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You can read [Part 1 here](

*”You weren’t disturbing me,” I say, opening the door wider. I look him up and down and give him a wry smile. “Where’s your wood?”*

 

“It’s…” he starts. Something catches in his throat and he audibly swallows, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. Behind him is an off-road cart with a pile of logs in the bed. “I’ll just, I mean if you’re not in the middle of something. I can come back, if…”

I look him over again because something’s not adding up. Sure, he’s already snuck a peek at my cleavage within the first thirty seconds we’ve been talking but to be honest, who wouldn’t? My tits are amazing even in a sweater. But there’s no guile, nothing on his face telling me that he knows how hard I’d just orgasmed. Maybe this isn’t my peeping Tom. What a shame. “Sure, bring it in,” I say sweetly and step back into the cottage.

He has to come in sideways with bundles of firewood under each arm and he looks like he stepped out of an LL Bean catalog. The sweat and panting before was probably from honest labor. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name,” I say as I hand him a glass of cold water.

“Thanks. It’s Thomas. And you don’t have anything to be sorry about. I was supposed to do this before, anyway. We market this place as a bit of a sanctuary. You know, no interruptions. It’s me who should be saying sorry.”

“We?”

He finishes stacking the wood next to the hearth and dusts off his jacket. “My wife, Helen and I. She handles the booking and online stuff and I do all the grunt work.”

For a half second, I imagine Thomas fucking me raw in front of a roaring fire, giving me the best of his grunt work. Sweat runs down his bare chest in glistening rivulets, melding with my pussy juices already coating his throbbing cock. His strong, callused hands grip my waist as each thrust sends shockwaves over my body. Okay, maybe it was a full second. Then I think about his wife, watching us.

“Are you okay?” he asks and I snap out of my fantasy. We lock eyes and if Thomas noticed anything, he kept it well hidden.

I sit at the dining table and watch his eyes follow my chest. He might not be a tech genius, but at least he’s not dead inside. “It must be a lot of work, maintaining this whole estate with just the two of you.”

Thomas nods. “We make it work. Back when this place was owned by the Harrisons– you know, the old oil family– well they had twenty people on staff. Butlers, housemaids, the whole shebang. These days roombas do most of the cleaning. Except for the cottages. Helen makes sure each one is dusted and the beds have clean sheets.”

“Well, can you thank her for me? The bedroom was immaculate.”

“She’ll be glad to hear it. I should go and leave you be.” He scribbles a number on a chalkboard near the door. “If you need anything else to make your stay more pleasant, please give me a call.”

“You bet,” I reply. I add the number to my phone and close the door. So many new questions pop into my head, like did Helen install the cameras? If she’s cleaning after every stay, does that mean the cameras are dumb? Does Thomas know? Is he complicit? Is she hot? What have I really stumbled into?

I decide to go for a walk to clear my head. A trail behind the cottage leads into the woods and I follow it. The air is cooler in the forest and my exposed neckline breaks out in gooseflesh. I don’t want to turn back so I begin to jog to keep me warm. When I run at the gym, I’m in my own bubble, secured with noise-canceling headphones. But I don’t need them here. Wind and birdsong are enough to keep me going.

As I reach a bend in the trail I see another cabin set deeper in the woods. It’s smaller and more rustic than my cottage, made from the abundant oak trees here. When I run over, I notice it’s dark. Moreover, it doesn’t look wired for electricity at all. I peek through a window (I told you, I’m a nosy bitch) and the single room interior is spare, but very neat. The pantry shelves are organized, the large table in the center is clean, and the bed at the far end looks tidy. I’m about to head back to the trail when I hear an engine approaching. It’s Thomas, alone in his golf cart on steroids.

“Hey there,” he says with a toothy smile. “Did you get lost?”

“No, I was just out for a jog when I saw this place. What is it?” I ask. He grabs firewood from the cart and the pieces fall into place. Another guest. I wonder if Helen spies on this one too. “Do you need a hand?”

“Can you get the door?”

Unlike my cottage, there’s no electronic entry. It doesn’t even have a lock. I step inside without asking and walk around. “What kind of person books this place?”

“Hippies with money,” Thomas says with a laugh. “It’s more remote, but more peaceful. It’s my favorite, to be honest. Do you like it?”

He hasn’t noticed that I’ve been circling him, drawing closer with each pass. A cabin in the woods where the wife can not see? Interesting. Maybe Tommy’s been a bad boy. I wonder what sort of mischief he gets into here. Mischief’s my pussy’s middle name. I stand in front of him and tug at the hem of my sweater, deepening my cleavage.

His eyes are glued to my tits and there’s nothing innocent about his gaze. He looks hungry, taking a step that closes the gap between us. That’s it, live in the moment. Part of me wishes that Thomas had been faithful up until now. When I broke him. My face feels hot and my chest heaves with anticipation. At that moment, I want him more than anything else in the world.

I pull at my sleeves and the neckline of my sweater opens with them, exposing my shoulders and red bra straps. For a moment, the cotton fabric clings to the tips of my breasts before falling around my stomach. “Would you like to touch them?” I whisper.

Thomas starts at my hips, dragging his fingertips along my side. It’s maddeningly slow and I love it. I close my eyes and focus on his touch, moving higher to my shoulders, then down my chest. I let out a soft moan when he finally cups my breasts, squeezing them through the bra. He leans over me and I feel his hot breath on my neck. When he nibbles on my skin I squeal and giggle with the biggest grin on my face.

He laughs into the crook of my neck, still massaging my ample tits in slow circles. I’m glad he’s having fun. I reach behind me and unsnap the bra and it falls off my shoulders, nipples hard and aching. It’s your turn, girls. Thomas wastes no time dipping me back to suck on my breast. His tongue is magic, flicking my sensitive nub but when he gives me the tiniest bite, I see stars. I run my fingers through his hair as he switches from right to left, then back again.

I’m putty in his arms, riding the pleasure but I want more. I pull him off my chest and writhe down on my knees until my nose rubs into the bulge in his pants. Running my fingers over his crotch, I can feel the outline of his cock. “It’s so thick,” I coo as I undo his belt buckle. I pull down his pants and briefs and his uncut cock bounces on my nose, leaving a dab of precum on it, earthy and raw.

“Wait.”

Shit. Is he having second thoughts? “What is it?” I ask while slowly stroking his shaft.

“I just want to be up front about this. I’m not going to cheat on my wife.”

I suppress my urge to laugh. What the hell is this if it isn’t cheating? “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t let this go any farther. Having a little fun is one thing, but if I take you to bed, that crosses a line. I thought you should know.”

“So, blowjobs aren’t cheating?” I lick his balls and watch his eyes close involuntarily, cock twitching as I slide up the shaft. “This is okay with you?”

Thomas nods and brushes my hair away from my face. As I take his dick into my mouth he says, “it’s my favorite.”

He doesn’t have to say another word. Neither of us do. Instead, I take more of him into my mouth and suck that cock like it was oxygen. The warmth and fullness of it wrapped around my lips, is enchanting. The feeling goes straight to my cunt, already wet and ready. I’m lost in pleasure but when I look up I see Thomas staring back at me, clearly appreciating my skills. *His favorite*, he said. I wonder how many guests he’s not-cheated with? I speed up, determined to fuck him with my mouth. Drool spills from my lips and I massage it into his balls until they’re slick and heavy fruit in my hand.

“I’m close,” he grunts. Thomas’s hips start to buck and I hold onto his ass to keep him from pulling out. I want his hot load streaming down my throat. Every last drop. It’s a lot, and it keeps coming until the last salty spurts leak from my mouth.

“That was *a lot* of fun,” I say with a come-stained smile. I want to say more but his phone rings inside his jacket pocket.

It’s Helen.

Thomas’s demeanor changes and the lust that was there moments before is gone. “I’m almost done stocking the hunting cabin. Be back in a few. Love you,” he says before hanging up. He pulls up his pants, careful to tuck in his shirt again before stopping at the door. “It was fun, Connie. If you’re wanting some more, you know how to get me.”

Even though he says he won’t fuck me, I know I’ll be calling him again. Good dick is good dick. But it might not be for a while though. I have to meet his wife first.

NSFW: yes

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