2. Just Us, Cowboy
2
JUST US, COWBOY
Once I’m back in the car, I follow Amy’s directions and drive around the ring of cabins. They are rustic in appearance but also well-maintained. The scattered pine trees leave their needles on the ground in random piles, but the grounds are well-kept overall, with cleared paths between the cabin, the main lodge, and other buildings. I pull into the gravel parking spot next to my cabin and park.
Stretching as I get out of the rental, I open the trunk. My regular work clothes and suitcase are at the dry cleaners in my hotel back where I’m staying for work. I packed a smaller tote for the weekend with everything I needed, so I grab it and the groceries I bought before I drove up the mountain. It’s not fancy, but the cabin had a full kitchen, so I planned to cook my meals.
Closing the trunk, I walk to the cabin and climb the steps to the front porch. Holding the groceries in one hand, I drop my suitcase and pull the key out of my pocket. I open the door, reach for my bag, and walk inside. The cabin’s decor is cozy, and I drop my stuff near the bedroom and carry the food to the kitchen. It’s small, but all the appliances are newer, with a gas stove and oven, a small refrigerator, and a double sink.
I unload the groceries, splitting the food between the fridge and the counter. I’ve taken weekends between business trips to get away many times before, so I knew what I needed for a couple of days of meals. I don’t drink alcohol, so that was one less thing to pack. I take a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink. I take a sip before indulging in a protracted swig. It's icy cold and tastes fresh. Texas tap water is barely palatable in the hot summers, but this is straight from a mountain spring, and I close my eyes to savor its freshness.
On the way to the bedroom, I grab my bag, lay it on the bed, unpack my clothes, and sort them on shelves or hangers. Unpacking makes me feel at home and relaxed and is better than living out of a suitcase. I travel more than forty weeks a year, so finding the small things that make a strange room feel like home is essential.
I strip out of my work garb, roll the clothes up with my tee shirt, socks, and underwear, and put them back into the carry-on. At the end of each day, I open the suitcase on the closet rack and fill it with dirty clothes. Routines like this make travel comfortable for me, and it’s never a scramble to pack up to leave when it’s time.
I walk naked into the bathroom and start the shower. I do some stretches, leaning back with my hands on my hips before bending forward to touch my toes. My five o’clock shadow is noticeable when I see my reflection, but I resolve not to shave for the weekend. I stretch my arms out to the sides as I twist at the hips before lifting my hands to reach for the ceiling. The stretch feels good, and I close my eyes to connect with my body. The water is hot enough to see steam rising, so I grab the provided soap bar and the little shampoo bottle and step into the hot spray.
I enjoy the ritual of a shower after a long day and a longer drive than usual. The aches and stresses from the day dissipate as I rinse the soap off my hair and body. Twisting off the water, I grab a towel from the shelf and pull it inside the shower curtain. The air in the cabin is cool, so I dry off in the warm nook of the shower before opening the curtain and stepping out onto the mat. Pulling the towel around my waist, I secure it with a knot. I wipe the steam from the mirror before brushing my teeth and combing my hair. I hear a knock on the door as I turn to find clothes.
“Kurt! It’s Amy. I brought you some snacks.” Her voice reminds me of our camp days, and I walk out of the bedroom without a shirt to let her in.
“I was finishing my shower,” I say, opening the door. Her eyes widen as she takes in my bare chest and pans to the towel tucked in at my waist. Despite traveling so much, I stay in good shape, so I’m pleased by her expression.
“Oh.” She pauses as her eyes slowly rise to connect with mine. “I can come back.”
“You’re here already. Come in.” I step back, and she hurries past me, headed to the kitchen with a platter of snacks.
“I’ll put these in here,” she says meekly, setting the tray down on the counter and keeping her back to me.
“Amy,” I say, taking a step toward her. “It’s only a towel. Stay until I get dressed, at least. Unless you’re busy?”
I stand halfway between the kitchen and the door to the bedroom, resting my hands on my hips. All the memories I have of when we were younger spin in the back of my mind, which has things stirring under my towel. Amy stays still, her hands resting on the counter as she takes a deep breath. I’m about to return to my room when she spins towards me. Her eyes drop past my waist, and she bites her lip as she raises her eyes to look at me.
“I remember what’s under the towel, Kurt,” Amy confesses as she takes a tentative step toward me. “Very fondly. Have you ever wondered what would have happened between us if I hadn’t moved?”
I tilt my head down as she approaches me, keeping eye contact. “I think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t found religion. That ended the fun we were having.”
“Heh, yeah.” She laughs as her hands rise and touch my chest. “I made some silly mistakes.” Her voice is slightly above a whisper as her fingers trail down my chest and run along the edge of my towel.
“Amy…” I say, wanting it to sound like a warning. Instead my voice sounds rough as my cock throbs at the familiar expression in her eyes.
“That’s not a no.”
She swipes her tongue along her lower lip before denting it with her teeth. Our eyes stay locked, and I watch hers darken as we stare at each other. I shake my head, inhaling and feeling our connection tighten.
“I don’t think I’d ever say no to you.”
Boldly stepping closer, she yanks away my towel and tosses it aside. I lean down, cupping behind her head and focusing on her lips as I bend toward her. Our mouths collide hungrily as her small hand wraps around my cock, squeezing it. I growl into her mouth, my other hand gripping the front of her button-down and tugging hard, ripping her buttons off. They clatter across the floor as I grip her tank top in both hands and pull it up to expose the soft flesh of her tummy.
“Fuck,” she moans into my mouth as our tongues tangle together. “When I saw you, it all came back, Kurt. Every fucking moment.”
She pulls away from the kiss and starts stripping, squirming free of her ripped plaid shirt, and pulling her tank top off. Dropping my hand to the waist of her jeans, I work at the belt buckle.
"Fuck, Amy. Your mouth felt like sin when you wrapped it around my cock in the cab of my stepdad’s truck during that drive-in.”
“I can still remember my first taste of you when I stretched across the bench seat.”
She watches me as her hands push down her pants, wriggling them down her thighs. My cock aches, jutting out and pointing at her as she glances down, then meets my eyes with arousal behind her irises.
“What about stripping naked in your mom’s living room?” I join her in a laugh as my hand wraps around my cock, giving it a stroke, dragging the foreskin over the head. “Because you weren’t allowed to have boys in your room, and she worked late.”
“We were merely studying math,” she says innocently as she kicks off her shoes, pulling her feet out of her jeans.
“You were so fucking sexy with your tanned skin, and smooth, bare pussy.” I smile at her as she reaches for me, slowly stroking my cock. “Like you stepped out of a nudie magazine.”
“I’m still fucking sexy, thank you very much.” Amy smirks and flings off her bra. Fuck, she still has the best tits. “I’m done playing around on the floor, though. How about we use a bed this time?”
“How is that even a question?”
I swat her naked ass. Amy shrieks at my firm smack and giggles as she heads to my bedroom, swaying her hips. She must still tan in the nude because there are no pale lines across her body. Admiring all of her curves, I inhale and ask, “How long do we have?”
“For once, there’s no time limit. It’s just us, cowboy, for as long as we like.”
Amy watches me over her shoulder as I walk toward her slowly. The picture of her as a nubile teen fades and morphs into her mature, alluring, voluptuous curves. Her eyes are ablaze as she rolls onto the bed and faces me, lying on her side. I focus on her round breasts, capped with ruby-red nipples. I want to devour her.
Her hand follows my eyes, squeezing one ripe breast while plucking at her rigid nipple. My eyes follow her fingers as she flattens her palm to glide down her abdomen to her pussy. She shifts to her back, spreading her legs apart to expose her fingers, playing with pussy. I notice it’s still smooth and bare, save for the small tuft of short brown hair above her protruding lips. She lowers her hand and spreads her pussy open, showing me her glistening arousal.
“You’re still fucking sexy.” I crawl up beside her. “I remember licking you. You tasted so good.”
Her eyes drop to my cock, bouncing as I kneel on the bed. She looks up at me, shifting her body and angling her head as her hand grips my cock.
“I’ve been thinking of doing this since I saw you in the lodge,” Amy purrs, swirling her tongue around my crown.
My eyes roll back as her lips stretch over my crown, pushing my foreskin back and lapping at the precum oozing from the tip. I look down at her, recalling the different positions we’d tried on the carpet of her mother’s house. I twist and settle on my side, reaching for her leg and pulling her closer. She moans, encouraging me to kiss her petals lightly before taking a long, slow lick of her sex.
“Let’s take our time.” My fingers spread her open, licking her deeper. Her moan of approval vibrates my cock as her mouth pushes lower. Words evaporate into indulgent groans as we pleasure each other to distant echoes of our youthful trysts.