We had a rope that we hung between two trees across the road when we wanted to be left alone and everyone respected that simple sign.Unfortunately, some years later when I was a young adult my father lost his life in an accident. My mother never went back to the camp; it just opened painful memories and she could not imagine being there without him. She was happy to let me use it any time I liked, however. My buddies and I would run to the camp for the weekend or on holidays to get away from the regular rat race.One summer I had some free time and decided to spend a week. A grocery run was only ten minutes away (it took five just to get out the logging road). I loaded what supplies I needed to save running back to town and headed to the camp on Friday afternoon. One stop I made was at the local hardware store for a few things to make repairs and improve a couple of things.Lacy was a young woman who worked at the hardware. This was before computers were common and the boss was too. "The illumination had dimmed until only the feeble glow of deep velvet twilight remained. All there was left for Janna to see was silhouetted movement against the ceiling of her room. Even this had progressed to such a frenzy that there was no coherence to what she was seeing. What had been supple limbs and graceful body moving in sensuous rhythm above her had become a dark blur of motion.Janna didn't care. She didn't need to see. She didn't need to hear. She just needed to feel.She barely heard her own gasps and moans. She could not sense the strain of her thigh muscles holding her legs apart so wide for so long. She was too focused on the rocking of her body against the bed, and the thrust of thick manhood in her tunnel.Her hands pressed into Tarras' shoulders, fingers curling hard into muscle as her pleasure rose slowly. Too slowly. She didn't need a romantic, tender fling, she needed a rutting, something strong enough to drown out the other emotions that had welled up inside her.
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