I would like to say thank you to samscribble for editing this story for me.
We have been talking on the forums for a few months now, eventually we decide to meet the following weekend. You don't say anything else other than give me your phone number.
My phone tells me that I have a new message. It's from you.
You tell me that you have booked a cabin. In The Lake District. 'Miles from anywhere,' you say. You tell me that you will pick me up. Tomorrow morning. At seven-thirty. Just like that. You don't ask me. You just tell me. You just assume that, if you did ask me, my answer would be yes.
Seven-thirty. That's less than 12 hours away. Barely more than a sleep away.
I am sipping a glass of wine as I read your text. I read your message and then read it again. I notice that my hand is beginning to shake. You and me. Just the two of us. In a cabin in the middle of nowhere.
No, you don't ask me for an answer. But I send you one anyway. 'I shall be waiting,' I tell you.
I pack a small bag. Just a few essentials. A bikini. A pair of shorts. A pair of sandals. My little black negligée. My hands are still shaking. I can't believe how excited I am. I try to calm myself, but none of the old tricks seem to work. Eventually, I take a shower and then head for bed. But I can't sleep. At two o'clock in the morning I am still wide awake.
At some stage, I must fall asleep because, next thing I know, I am awoken by the alarm. It is seven. Oh, fuck! I should have set the alarm for earlier.
I decide to skip my shower. I brush my teeth and hastily fix my hair. Then I put on some white shorts, a strap top, and a pair of trainers. I am still tying my shoelaces when the doorbell rings. I try to compose myself.
You are standing there smiling. You're wearing a pair of board shorts and a plain white T that enhances your toned chest and shoulders. 'Hi. Come on in,' I say. 'I'll be just two minutes.'
I rush back upstairs and put on body spray and some perfume.
As I come back down the stairs, you are smiling, watching me, drinking me in with your eyes. And when I reach the foot of the stairs you kiss me. Lightly. The way that someone might kiss a child. 'Are you awake?' you ask.
'I think so.'
You pick up my bag. 'Is this it?' you ask.
'That's it,' I say. 'I didn't think we'd need too may clothes.' And then I realise what I have just said. 'What I mean is ....'
You laugh. But you take my bag and we head out the door.
It's a long way up to The Lake District. Even making the most of the motorways, it takes almost seven hours. We chat about this and that, and we stop along the way for a coffee, and then, at some stage, my sleepless night catches up with me, and I doze off. When I wake again, were are there.
'This is us,' you say.
I look around us. It's beautiful. A small wooden cabin, right on the edge of a lake, and not another house to be seen. 'Beautiful,' I say. 'Yes. Beautiful.' I lean across and kiss you on your cheek.
You get out of the car first and come around and open my door for me. I get out and pause for a moment to stretch my back. But it is not my back that I catch you looking at. My breasts are straining against the fabric of my top. 'I suppose I could have worn a bra,' I say.
You just smile.
We head inside and look around the cabin. It looks just as good on the inside as it did on the outside.
'Hungry?' you ask.
'A little peckish,' I say.
You have thought of everything, and, from somewhere, you produce a cut lunch and a bottle of wine. 'We can finish unpacking when we have had something to eat,' you say.
Who am I to argue?
The cabin seems bigger than it first looks. Downstairs there is a kitchen, a dining room, and a sitting room with a large-screen TV. Upstairs there is a really large double bedroom and a bathroom with a walk-in shower. I try out the bed, and then you come and join me. We kiss. We cuddle. And then ... we both fall asleep.
When I wake up again, I look at my phone. There is no signal. Oh, well. But my phone tells me that it is 6:45 pm. And then I notice that you too are awake. 'This is perfect, Sweetie,' I say. 'You have some excellent ideas. Thank you.' And I give you a long lingering kiss. It's a kiss that might have led to other things but, after seven hours in the car, I feel in need of a shower. 'I shall return,' I assure you.
I walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind me, but not closing it completely. Then I turn on the shower and let it run for a few moments to get it to just the right temperature. Next I undress and stand in front of the full-length mirror. The woman who looks back at me doesn't look that special. Not really. And yet you, a handsome man if ever there was one, seem to find me attractive. You seem to think that I'm special.
I step into the shower and let the water cascade over me. Oh, yes. And then, just as I start to wash myself, I am no longer alone. You have joined me. Beautiful you. Beautiful naked you.
'OK if I join you? I'm not sure how long the hot water lasts. And I need to was too.'
Of course you can join me. You can join me whenever you like.
You take the liquid soap and, turning me around, you begin washing my back, starting with my shoulders and then working you way downwards. I feel your strong hands, massaging me while you wash me. You work your way lower. To my waist and then on to my bum. I feel your strong fingers between my cheeks. And then I feel you hands working their way down my legs.
