The Cabin: Chloe's Story (Book Two) (The Cabin Novellas) Read online

  forget what I wanted to do there. Surely nothing could make me feel as horny as I did right now. I would’ve let this guy do whatever he wanted to do to me. I’d be happy to be his fuck-thing all night long.

  Drawing in deep lungfuls of breath, he slowly slid his cock from me and I collapsed onto my front. Gasping for breath, I knew I wanted more. I needed more. It had been so long since I’d been fucked, the once just wasn’t good enough. Rolling over onto my back, I looked up at the guy as he leant over me. With that unquenchable lust for sex still aching deep inside of me, I opened my legs and started to rub my clit with my fingers.

  He stood at the end of the bed and watched me, his cock showing no signs of softening.

  “Do you want to watch me make myself come?” I whispered.

  “Chloe, what are you doing?” someone suddenly said.

  Then, looking past the guy at the end of the bed, I saw Ben standing in the open hotel room doorway.

  Seven

  Ben

  I woke to the sound of heavy breathing, gasping, and panting. I sat up, the firsts rays of morning light creeping into the room via the window. The noise came again, sounding muffled as if coming from the other side of the wall. The pain in my head had gone, and I shook it from left to right, trying to shake off my deep sleep and get my bearings. Where was I? The hotel room. Yes, I remembered now. Chloe and I were on the way to some cabin she had booked in the Cumbrian Mountains. I had my own mountain to climb and that was the report I had to get finished before Monday morning and my return to work. How had she ever persuaded me to go with her? She had threatened to leave me. That was how she got me to leave the work behind.

  The sound of moaning and groaning came again and I looked about the room, still feeling half dazed. It was then I saw Chloe lost amongst the bedding beside me as she twisted and turned, as if lost in some violent dream. I peeled back the duvet to find her covered in a glistening coat of sweat. Her eyes were tight shut and she wriggled from side to side like a snake. She gasped, frowned, then murmured again. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I shook her gently awake.

  “Chloe, what are you doing?” I whispered in her ear. “What are you dreaming about?”

  Gasping, she snatched my hand away and shot up. For a moment she sat staring at me, a blank look on her face. She swallowed hard and gazed about the room, looking lost and confused.

  “Chloe, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  Breathing deeply, she pulled the duvet up, covering her breasts. Reaching out, I mopped the sweat from her brow with the back of my hand. Although she was sweating, Chloe’s skin felt cold and clammy.

  “Were you having a nightmare?” I asked her.

  Glancing about the room, as if looking for someone, she nodded slowly.

  “What was it about?” I pushed softly.

  “Can’t remember,” she whispered, looking back at me.

  “Well, whatever it was about, it was just a dream. There’s no need to feel scared,” I told her.

  Slowly, Chloe swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, dragging the duvet behind her like a long white robe.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To pee,” she said, still sounding half asleep. She closed the bathroom door behind her.

  Shrugging, I crossed the room and switched on the kettle. I dropped a couple of teabags into two cups and added milk and sugar. Sitting back on the edge of the bed as the kettle started to boil, I couldn’t help but wonder if coming away to the cabin that Chloe had booked was a bad idea. I thought of the work I had to do before Monday morning, and even thinking about it made my stomach knot in dread. But I knew I couldn’t turn back now, however much I wanted to. I knew that Chloe would leave me if I did, and I desperately didn’t want that to happen. In some respects, I felt like I was trapped. I wanted to do the right thing by Chloe, but there was also my career, and both of them went hand in hand. No career, no future for Chloe and I.

  I heard the toilet flush, then the shower started to run. I looked across the room at the closed bathroom door. How long had it been since Chloe and I had stayed in a hotel room together? How long had it been since we had been away together? Three years ago? Perhaps four? I couldn’t be sure. But one thing I could remember was the last time we’d stayed in a hotel together, I had crept into the shower with her. Chloe’s back had been turned towards me, and she hadn’t heard me creep in at first. I had squeezed some shower gel into my hands, then slipping my arms about her, I had slowly started to soap her breasts. We had ended up making love against the shower wall like a couple of horny teenagers. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. I looked back at the bathroom door and pictured Chloe in there alone, water running down the length of her body as she gently washed herself. I imagined her pert breasts covered in water as she rubbed soap over them with her hands. A few years ago, thinking of her like that would have turned me on beyond belief, made my cock turn rock hard. I looked down into my lap and didn’t even feel a twinge.

  Christ, what had happened to me? How was I going to survive my stay at The Cabin? Chloe hadn’t booked it so we could sit and play cards and talk about the weather. She had other ideas in mind. The thought of not being able to do the things to her that she had planned made my stomach cramp tighter, more than my fear of returning to work on Monday morning without my report complete.

  I stood up and sloshed boiling water into the two cups. As I stirred them, I heard the shower turn off. The bathroom door opened and Chloe appeared in the room. She had a crisp white towel wrapped about her. She looked at me.

  “Feeling better?” I asked with a smile.

  “I guess,” she smiled back, sitting on the edge of the bed and toweling her thick blond hair dry.

  “Drink some of this,” I said, passing the cup of tea.

  Placing the towel to one side, she took the cup from me. “You do really want to come away to The Cabin with me, don’t you?” she asked, staring up at me from the bed.

  “Did I have choice?” I said back, not wanting to sound disgruntled in any way.

  “I meant what I said, Ben,” she said, not sounding angry either, just matter-of-fact. “We either try and work things out or it’s over.”

  “Do you still love me?” I asked her, fearing her answer.

  “Yes,” she said, looking down into her cup of tea. “But I don’t love the way you are anymore.”

  “I don’t work so hard just for me,” I tried to explain. “I do it for the both of us.”

  “Your work is destroying both of us,” she said, glancing back at me. “I just want to have some fun, Ben. I want some excitement in my life again. I want to do something wild. I want to feel alive! At the moment, I just feel trapped.”

  “I know how that feels,” I said just above a whisper, turning away and heading for the bathroom.

  Eight

  Chloe

  While Ben showered, I finished drying myself and got dressed. Standing by the window, I stood and drank the tea Ben had made for me. The view from the window looked out across the hotel car park. Suddenly the young porter who I had dreamt about appeared. I stepped back, my heart quickening a little. What was I hiding for? He didn’t know about the dream I’d had. There was nothing to feel embarrassed about. As he headed towards his car, looking tired after his long nightshift, I wondered if perhaps I did have reason to be embarrassed. Shouldn’t I be embarrassed with my own behaviour? That was twice in the last twenty-four hours I’d had such vivid dreams about complete strangers. Was I really that frustrated that I had taken to dreaming about men I’d happen to see – who had happened to be halfway good-looking? What would make these wild dreams I had go away? Would they not disappear until I’d actually lived out my fantasy of being screwed by a complete stranger?

  I looked back at the door, hearing the water pitter-patter to a slow stop. I looked back out of the window and watched the porter climb into his car and slam the door. He had no idea how hot he’d been in my dream last night. He had no idea
how hard he had fucked me. As he sped away out of the car park, I wondered if he would pleasure himself alone in his bedroom with his ‘lad’s-mag’ before falling asleep for the day. Or was he going home to a lover? If so, would he fuck her as hard as he had fucked me in my dreams? Lucky bitch, I half-smiled, turning away from the window and finding Ben, standing in the bathroom doorway.

  “Okay?” he asked, heading across the room, a towel wrapped tightly about his waist.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen his cock, let alone felt it deep inside of me. What would he do if I just dashed across the room right now, ripped free his towel, and sucked him off? I wondered. Would he push me off? Flee in fear perhaps? I turned back towards the window. No, I would wait until we reached The Cabin. I had a sense that The Cabin would sort everything out, even if I couldn’t.

  Now that Ben’s head was clear, he drove the rest of the way to The Cabin. We made the journey pretty much in silence, sharing a few occasional lines of chit-chat, but nothing too deep. Neither of us dared to mention what was really on our minds. We both knew that we would either come back from The Cabin together or alone.

  We reached the small village of Lufton just before lunch. The village had an elegant main street, with medieval-looking houses and shops lining each side of the street. The village was set in a beautiful valley, a vast mountainous range surrounding it on all sides. At once, I got the feeling we had left our old lives behind. I felt like a different person already. Ben steered the car over the narrow cobbled streets until we reached the furthest part of town where the pub The Slaughtered Lamb stood. Parking up, we took our rucksacks from the boot of the car and headed towards the pub.

  I reached the door and I heard Ben say, “Good idea, I could do with some lunch, I’m starving.”

  Looking back over my shoulder at him, I said, “I wasn’t planning on eating, I’ve got to collect the keys for The Cabin.” I wondered if Ben wasn’t trying to buy himself some time.

  “We could get a drink at least, I’m parched,” Ben said, brushing past me and pulling open the pub door.

  I stepped inside, the door creaking closed behind me. The pub was small, and the low ceiling was a network of ancient oak beams. There was a wooden bar, which ran along the wall in the shape of a crescent moon. Behind it stood a thickset man. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows and he stood wiping the inside of some glasses with a white cloth.

  I approached the bar. “I’ve come to collect the keys for The Cabin,” I smiled at him.

  “You must be Miss Chloe Wells?” he smiled back, his face looking weather-beaten.

  “That’s Mrs.,” I grinned.

  “Really?” he whispered, looking over my shoulder at Ben, who was studying a painting fixed to the wall above the fireplace.

  “Really,” I smiled again.

  “So you’re married then?” he said, producing a long iron key from beneath the bar.

  “So it would appear. I have the certificate and everything,” I said. “We really are married.”

  “Let’s hope it stays like that then,” he half-smiled at me, taking hold of my hand.

  “What’s that s’posed to mean?” I asked, looking down at his strong hand holding mine.

  “The Cabin has a way of changing things,” he whispered, closing my fingers over the key he had placed in the palm of my hand.

  I looked up into his dark eyes.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Mrs. Chloe Wells,” he said softly, letting go of my hand.

  “I’ve been careful for far too long,” I said, looking back into his deep eyes. Then, breaking his stare, I turned away from the bar and headed towards the door.

  “I thought we were going to have a drink?” Ben said, coming after me.

  “I’m not thirsty,” I shot back, leaving The Slaughtered Lamb.

  Nine

  Ben

  Chloe pulled a folded white piece of paper from her jeans pocket. It flapped in the wind as she held it out before her. I could see that it was a receipt. Printed below this was a map, showing the path we needed to take up the mountainside to reach The Cabin. She set off along the path towards the mountain, which loomed in the distance. It spread across the grey skyline like a broken spine. There were patches of green, but the vast majority of it was dull coloured and bleak-looking. Its highest peaks were covered in a dusting of snow. The location didn’t look romantic to me, the complete opposite – oppressive and uninviting. It was too late for me to turn back now. Perhaps if we set off early tomorrow morning, we could be home in time for me to catch up with my paperwork. If I worked all through Sunday night without sleep, then I still might be able to get my report finished by Monday morning.

  The road we followed twisted and turned. It straightened as we drew near to the foot of the mountain. Just ahead I could see an ancient-looking church with a spire. Just like everything else in this part of the world, it was grey with a washed out look. There was a leafless tree in the graveyard, and its trunk and branches were black and gnarled-looking like broken limbs.

  “Got any last minute confessions you might want to make?” I laughed, nudging Chloe in the ribs with my elbow and nodding towards the church.

  Chloe stared at it, then sideways at me. “Perhaps on the way back,” she smiled, then set off towards the mountain.

  I took one last look at the church, then turning my back on it, I made my way after Chloe.

  We trudged up the mountainside for what seemed like forever. I was fit and healthy with plenty of stamina, but several times, I had to stop and catch my breath. Chloe, however, seemed more determined in her effort to get to the cabin. Every time I slowed, she would glance back and urge me on.

  It was late afternoon when we finally reached The Cabin. Good job Chloe had a map, or I fear we might have been wandering around the mountainside for days and weeks without coming across it. The Cabin was hidden away behind a thick crop of trees. They circled the wooden structure on all sides, as if hiding it from the outside world. A chill wind suddenly picked up and whistled around the rickety-looking roof. There was a wooden porch and a set of steps leading up to the tired-looking front door.

  “Nice,” I whispered as rain started to fall from the overcast sky.

  Hearing me, Chloe looked back as she climbed the steps and said, “I’m sure it will be very nice inside.”

  I watched her produce a long black key from her pocket. She slipped it into the lock and twisted her wrist. The door almost seemed to fly open, as if desperate for us to step inside. Glancing back just once more at our isolated surroundings, I followed Chloe inside and closed the door.

  Chloe had been right; The Cabin was, to my surprise, very nice. It had that whole Doctor Who thing going on – like the police box. The Cabin seemed a lot larger on the inside than it had looked from outside. There was one large room, with a polished wooden floor. Set into the far wall, I could see a stone and brick fireplace. The grate had been filled with logs ready to be lit. On the floor before the fire, there was a large thick white rug. I saw Chloe glance down at it, and I could only imagine the thoughts flickering past the front of her mind. There was a large soft black leather couch, a small table with crystal-cut glasses, and a whiskey decanter and several bottles of wine. Looking to my right, I could see through another open doorway which led to the bedroom. There was the biggest bed I had ever seen. It looked large enough for several people to sleep quite comfortably. The bed was covered in what looked like white satin sheets and pillows. Blood-red rose petals had been scattered over it.

  “It’s chilly in here,” I said, looking at Chloe.

  She took my rucksack from me and headed across the room to the bedroom. “Light the fire and relax then,” she said, stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind her.

  Alone in the large room, I knelt before the fire. Sheets of newspaper had been twisted up and placed between the logs piled in the fireplace. There was a box of firelights on the ground. I lit one and held it beneath the paper
. It caught quickly, sparks and embers seesawing away up the chimney. I breathed onto the growing fire and flames began to flicker as they took hold of the logs.

  Taking off my coat, I hung it on a hook by the door, which rattled in its frame as the wind blew hard outside. Crossing the room, I went to the bottles of wine. I selected a red and unscrewed the cap, pouring two glasses. Why did I feel so on edge – anxious even? Chloe was just my wife and I loved her. I tried to push all thoughts of work from my mind. I gulped down a large mouthful of the wine, hoping it would ease me a little. From behind me, I heard the bedroom door swing open again. I spun around to discover that Chloe intended on wasting not one moment of our time together in The Cabin. She stood in the doorway. Her long legs looking even longer in the tall black heels she was now wearing. Her shapely legs were covered in silky black stockings, which stopped short in a lacey fringe at the top of her creamy white thighs. She wore the briefest of black panties and a black silk bra, which cupped her breasts perfectly, making them look firm and round. Her long blond hair trailed over her smooth shoulders, her lips covered brightly with red lipstick. She did look fucking hot and she knew exactly what she was doing. Back when... when things were good between us, I used to like her to dress like a whore. I loved her to look like a tramp. It used to turn me on.

  Without saying anything, Chloe slinked across the room towards me. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor. Reaching me, she placed her hands gently on my shoulders and pushed me down onto the leather sofa.

  “Chloe...” I started.

  “Shhh,” she said, placing her soft lips over mine.

  Chloe slipped her tongue gently into my mouth as she lowered herself onto my lap. I tried not to think about getting hard, because I knew if I thought about it, it wouldn’t happen. I tried to relax as her tongue darted around the inside of my mouth. I tried to concentrate on how she tasted and smelt. I let my fingertips brush over the smooth silk of the stockings that covered her beautiful long legs. Sliding her tongue slowly from my mouth, she flicked the tip of it over my lips. Then reaching round, she unfastened her bra and let it fall away. Her breasts stood proud, just an inch from my mouth. Her nipples were a soft, pink, and erect. She guided her tits towards me. Trailing her right nipple over my lips, I shuddered, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I felt my cock begin to stiffen – just a little.