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“You thinking about repairing it?” I asked.
“I could do some of the topical repairs, but there are bigger issues that need to be addressed.”
“You got the money to pull off something like that?”
I saw her shoulders stiffen and I began to regret even asking the question.
“I have my savings and a bit of inheritance money. The cabin means a lot to me, so I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
“You said it was your childhood home?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said.
I could tell by the tone of her voice that I’d hit a sore spot, so I dropped the topic and moved on.
“What kind of repairs does it need?” I asked.
“Lots,” she said. “The staircase, obviously. The porch. The kitchen needs to be updated. I haven’t even gone upstairs yet because I’m afraid to walk the rest of the way up, but I’m sure it needs some shit done to it. Thankfully, the pipes and the electrical wiring don’t seem to be bad.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“I need to find someone I trust with the repairs,” she said. “I won’t let just anyone in that house to work on it.”
“Understandable.”
“And I’ll have to figure it out soon because the longer the cabin sits like that, the worse it’ll get.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” I said.
I could see Amanda eyeing the door before she turned her gaze back toward me.
“Well, thanks for dinner,” she said.
“I didn’t cook, so thank you for dinner,” I said.
“It was nothing. An easy soup. I hope you and Lanie enjoy it.”
It seemed suddenly as if Amanda couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. She whipped the door open and closed it behind her, then practically leaped off the porch. I watched as she walked back toward her cabin in the dark, her hips swaying and her hair blowing in the wind. She had her arms folded over her chest as the winter air descended upon the mountain, and I kicked myself for making her feel uncomfortable.
I was actually beginning to enjoy our conversation before I fucked it all up.
Settling down for the night, I got into a warm shower. I could still smell her body spray lingering in the air, and I wanted to wash it from my skin. The last thing I needed was to go to bed with her on my mind. Then I would end up fantasizing about her when my eyes closed for the night.
But as my cock twitched with anger at the fact that Amanda wasn’t here with me in this shower, I knew I was in trouble.
I wrapped my hand around my dick and began to stroke. I thought about Amanda in that tight little number she had on tonight, with her low-cut shirt and her beautiful tits. I thought about ripping that flimsy fabric off her and tossing it to the floor. I thought about biting and nibbling on her pebbled nipples as she bucked against me. I thought about sliding those jeans down her legs and sliding my fingers inside her tight, wet pussy.
I bet she could grind against me wantonly and with absolute abandon.
Stroking my cock, I felt a few drops of precum slide to the surface. The warm water beat against my aching muscles as my hips began to thrust into my hand. I thought about her red lips wrapped around my dick as she gagged on its length. Then kissing away her tears of effort before I slid into her tight, throbbing pussy. I thought about fucking her against the wall and bending her over the table. I thought about sliding my growing cock into her tight little asshole.
I wondered if anyone had taken that little asshole of hers.
I thought about how her ass would bounce every time I slammed into her. I thought about smacking it time and time again, leaving my handprint behind as a sign of owning her. I thought about all the times I could make her moan my name before tears of mercy streamed down her cheeks.
Then I thought about kissing them away before I pulled one last orgasm from her body.
“Amanda. Shit. Oh fuck, those tits. That ass is so tight. Come for me. Come on my cock. Just like that, baby girl.”
