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The Cabin in the Woods (A Series)
Days 1 & 2
It had been raining all afternoon, and everything within reach of the cold drops falling from the heavens was soaked clear through. That was to say, people too. I looked at him, and he at me. His fingers wrinkled with that being in water too long look; myself included in the prune like appearance. We had been trekking through the woods, and well managed to walk right into a raging rainstorm. His white t-shirt, well let's just say it was transparent like glass. Clinging to his pecs, abs, and other wondrous features...
He didn't know, I didn't know, but I knew. I wanted to devour that man like a ravenous meat-eating inhuman beast. I was already the inhuman part, being so different from everyone else and all. I didn't fit in, not in my family, not at school—and not even within the realm of people like me. People like me—faggots.
I smiled at him, hoping not to seem odd, not that that much mattered. I was feeling adventurous; with the drop of a hat I could be on my knees servicing him. Not so much with the drop of a hat, more like a drop of the pants. He was my dream boy, tall—tan—smooth talking—cocky walkin'. If I had been given one wish this morning when I'd rolled out of bed at 5 AM, I'd have wished for the day he and I were having, together.
After much walking, and shivering, we reached camp. Just in time too, the moon was becoming present in the sky. I was never so happy to see that drab little cabin my parents owned a few miles outside of a very rural state park. The fireplace was dead, he and I had left early this morning, and hadn't left much other than embers; however, in no time he had a crackling fire going. The warmth was just enough to take the chill off the bone. I stripped naked, hanging my dampened clothes over the back of a wooden chair I'd placed near the fireplace. I did keep a bit of dignity about me, and wore my soaked underwear.
He too stripped, though he not modest as I had been removed all of his clothing. "Deep breath," I told myself, "you've seen that body before." I wasn't lying to myself, I had seen it, just not this close and this privately. It seemed almost surreal, like at any moment I could just reach out and touch him, and he would be okay with it. I longed for my fingers to meet that tanned, toned, and taught skin. I knew, or so I thought, that his skin would be soft like a baby's butt, and warm like the fire crackling in the fireplace before us.
He proceeded to pull on of the small wooden chairs nearer the fire, and placed his own soaked clothes over the back of its worn posterior.
"Cole?" he asked.
"Wha?" I replied, snapping from my daydreams.
"Why ya' still wearin' those soaked panties?"
This was normal, at least between us. Him badgering my femininity, though I wasn't very feminine. I wasn't exactly manly either— no that title was Bentley's. At only 18, he shaved on Monday morning and was in a ripe 5 o'clock shadow on Tuesday morning. Everything about the Adonis before me was nerve-rackingly beautiful, the way he talked—walked—sat—laughed—the way his big blue eyes glistened when he heard something sad.
"I was trying to be modest."
He snorted.
Yeah, because the chances of me dying from wearing wet pan ... underwear was real, eminent and within fathom. I couldn't argue with him though, he was too persuasive; and besides I was way beyond submissive to anything he could suggest.
I slid my Calvin Klein's off, and hung them on the back of my chair with the rest of my clothes. Bentley let free a loud wolf whistle when he saw my bum. I blushed.
Sometime later, with our clothes thoroughly dried and ourselves likewise I moved to put on my clothes. There was just an unease among my thoughts as I thought about the possibility of popping a boner right in front of Bentley, while I sat there and entertained the visions of him plowing me like the little faggot I am.
I put my clothing back on. Bentley looked at me, smiled, and then looked away.
After a while, He suggested that it was time for bed; and I agreed, wanting to cuddle up to him in the bed we shared due to its close proximity to the fireplace. Bentley stood, turned, walked to the fireplace, and added a few choice pieces of wood. It appeared that he was not going to bother redressing. Oh god, he was going to sleep nude. . .
I debated with that little voice in the back of my head. Should I remove some of my clothing? I usually slept in just my underwear, and well, I was not very sure if that would be a good idea.
POP an idea sprang into my head. "You should wear your underwear to bed, but take them off under the covers; it'll be like you're `sleeping' with him." That thought scared me a little; what if, in the middle of the night, while I was cuddling him, as I was one of those bedmates who usually cuddled the person next to me as I slept; I sprang an erection and managed to stab him with it? The idea was too much, and I found myself tenting up in my pants at the mere thought of it. I said to myself, "Fuck it." I walked over to the bed, Bentley paying little attention to me, slipped all of my clothes off, and crawled under the covers. Bentley crawled in beside me a moment later, after snuffing out the oil lamp.
"G'night Susie." He said.
"G'night, Sir." I replied, placing emphasis on the latter part.
He laughed, then turned to face me, "Now, I don't want you poking at my backside tonight, `cuz I know you ain't wearing no clothes neither." I nearly wet myself.
Then assured him jokingly, "Won't happen, Sir."
"Night." He said, rolling over with a content chuckle.
I rolled with my back to him, and closed my eyes. I tried and tried, and tried to sleep; using every trick I could think of, but none of them worked. I looked at my watch, sitting on the small window ledge behind the bed. It was no later than 2 AM, and well, I was plumb tired of trying to fall asleep but failing at doing just that.
I rolled on my back. Watching Bentley sleep through my peripheral vision. I rolled over again, now resting on my side, facing him. I let free a large sigh.
"Cole would ya' just shut up and go to sleep, you're drivin' me crazy." Bentley said, among a snore.
"Sorry, I just can't sleep."
"Why?" he asked, his eyes opening a little.
"I dunno."
"What's botherin' ya?" he asked.
"Nothing I can think of."
"Ya' sure?" Bentley was now on his side, facing me.
"I dunno."
"Okay then, I'm goin' back to sleep." With that, he closed his eyes, still looking towards me, and began to snore once again.
I then figured out what was bothering me, I thought I did at least. I hesitantly approached the subject aloud.
"Bentley, would you spoon me?"
"If it'll let me sleep . . . yes."
I rolled to face the other way, my back now turned towards that man I so craved. Seconds passed, I thought he'd forgotten just as I had given up hope. . . One of his decent sized arms flung over top my waste, and his chest nuzzled warmly into my back. He was so warm, so soft, and just so angelic. I was able to fall asleep sometime later.
I was very disappointed to find him missing the next day when I woke. The early morning sun, streaming through the curtains in the window above the bed, struck my skin. The dawn's rays were not warm, at least not as warm as he was. I went to remove the covers, not opening my eyes, only to find that there weren't any covers on me. I was laying stark naked in the middle of the bed.
Today, we planned on some fishing, hiking, and the sprucing up of the cabin. Bentley and I planned to stay at the cabin for at least a week, and we were on day two of the at least seven. Two days, and I'd gotten my hunk to spoon me! Two days, and I saw him naked. Two days and I'd woken up naked in the middle of the bed, uncovered?
"About time yew woke up," he called from the door.
"Ffff, you," I hollered back.
"No sir, F-you."
"Maybe later, my ass is a little sore," I replied.
He gave me one of those devilish little smirks. I'd let that boy fuck me, right there on the dining table.
Stop! Stop! Stop picturing it, I screamed at myself inside my head. No need for me to pop a tent right now, and I couldn't if I had wanted to.
--
The next installment to come soon.
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