A Reunion with Cynthia

Abs

Sometimes you just have to hit bottom before you start to rise again, and apparently I’d hit bottom a while back. Through a sequence of stupid decisions and choices, some bad luck with the economy, some tragedy and heartbreak, I’ve found myself alone for the first time since going off to college. Was busted broke but found a new job that actually pays pretty well, actually got pretty healthy and more physically fit than since those college days, and had even managed to buy a tiny house.

A windfall came when an uncle that I’d barely known died. It turns out he had never married, had always liked me for some reason though I can barely remember him, and I was his last known relative. Most of his financial assets had been designated towards one or another charitable organization, but to me he left an old farmstead way up in the high mountains a half-day’s drive from here.

I took a ride up there one weekend and found the place in minor disrepair but very salvageable, a bit on the rustic and basic side but in a way that was totally appealing to a guy that longed to live in these hills and away from the bustle of the crowded city, and surprisingly livable for a place that obviously hadn’t been lived in for almost a while. Old Uncle Charlie apparently had bought the place many years ago but allowed the farmer and his wife to stay there and work the place, and it had only been empty for the past few years.

A month or so later my company offered me the opportunity to work remotely, as most all my work was individualized and with an internet connection I could very well work from anywhere. I’d have to come into town once a week for organizational meetings, but otherwise a cell phone and internet connection was all I needed. Talk about things going well for a change…

Over the course of the next few months I began the process of moving to the mountain. It really was a grand piece of property, nearly 200 acres in all, with the little frame house comfortably sitting at the base of a mountainside overlooking a nice sized stream. There wasn’t any power up there so I had a line run in and service set up in the kitchen. The rest of the house would have to wait until I could wire everything, and until then oil lamps and candles were just fine. There was a tank for the gas stove and water heater, and a wood furnace for heat.

Working on weekends through the summer I had the house nearly ready to move in. I’d added insulation, installed new windows to keep out the cold, and done a good bit of painting both inside and out. I listed my little house in town for sale and managed to close on that just as the colors of autumn were just starting to show high up on the mountain.

About a week after moving into my new mountain abode full time I had made the trip down into the village for groceries. I was intently studying the meager selection of fresh fruits when I heard a female voice call out my name.

“Walker Lee!” I instantly recognized the voice as a girl I’d worked with long, long ago, right out of college. At that time we were both attracted to each other and had shared a kiss on more than one occasion, but we were both in other relationships and had managed curb ourselves, but had remained friends. After moving to other jobs we remained in contact for a while but eventually had lost contact, and she had moved long ago from the city. I really didn’t know where she’d gone and had changed contact info myself so any thoughts of reunion were long dismissed. Besides, I’d figured she was happy in her relationship anyway.

When she called to me I instantly spun around, a big grin sweeping over my face, and greeted her, “Cynthia Clearwater, how in the hell are you!?” Oh, she looked great. She had always been a fitness buff and it was obvious that the passion had carried through. Her American Indian heritage had given her smooth skin and long, black hair which was in sharp contrast to her sparkling blue eyes. Before I could even run my eyes up and down her frame she had her arms around my back and had hugged up tight to my body.

“Walker, what are you doing up here? Damn, it’s good to see you, you look great!”

“Hey, I was about to ask you the same question. And you still look dynamite, as always. You’ve defied the years, woman.” She told me of how she had quit her job down in the city after her parents had passed, and had moved up here to enjoy the peace and solitude. She’d fallen in love with the village and surrounding mountains years ago, and was making just enough money to live on by looking after the homes of absentee owners.

She asked how I’d come to be up there and I related the story of my Uncle Charlie, and her eyes lit up. She’d known the old farmer and his wife, and told me of buying honey and candles from them, of how the old man had fallen ill and the two of them leaving to be with one of their children down in a warmer Casibom climate.

We also shared summary versions of how we’d come to be alone at this point.

“Tell you what, Cynthia. I’m a fair cook these days. Why don’t you come up to my place for supper tonight? I brought my old stereo and collection of vinyl albums and we’ll enjoy some good food, good music, good drink and good company.”

“Walker, it’s a deal. What can I bring?”

I felt like a school boy again. One that had just talked to the prettiest girl in class and had gotten a date with her for the first time. I made another round through the store to pick up a few more things and was still grinning as I checked out.

The sky was crystal clear that day and as the afternoon shadows fell, so did the thermometer. I built a fire in the woodstove and started lighting oil lamps and candles just as I heard a car drive up in front of the house. I greeted Cynthia at the door and she stuck out two bottles towards me.

“Wine and tequila. Take your pick.” She knew darn well what I’d go for, and I knew she liked wine, so we were both set. But, I knew I’d not be overindulging this night. I still had the hots for her and I didn’t want anything to blur any sensation or experience that I’d held in fantasy for years. “Wow, this place looks just like it used to, only a bit better. More like you than the Emersons. I see you’re still using the old oil lamps. Nice.” I took the bottles and headed toward the kitchen while she shed her jacket. Cynthia followed me into the kitchen, asking, “Walker, something smells good, and I’m hungry. What’re we having?”

I poured her a glass of wine, turned to hand it to her, and as I did she took the glass, wrapped her other arm behind my neck, and pulled close. She hesitated for an instant, then lightly touched her warm lips to mine. The world was lost for me. The only thing I was aware of was the taste and touch of her lips. We could have been floating in a cloud for all I knew. “I hate to even serve what I’ve cooked after that, because it sure won’t taste as good.” Cynthia just smiled, her eyes twinkling at me, and she slowly turned to walk away in that tease she had perfected so well.

I watched as she walked from the kitchen back into the sitting room. She is fairly tall, slim, a nice shaped and very firm derriere, graceful yet athletic, with just enough sway in her stride to cause her long ebony hair to swing back and forth. Just as she got into the sitting room she turned her head in mid stride, catching me watching. Busted. That got a slight grin from her.

We enjoyed a great meal, the conversation flowing easily and broken only by laughter now and then, and the atmosphere warm in the glow of the oil lamps and candles around the room. As I cleared the table Cynthia went to browse through my record collection, after refilling her wine glass for the fourth time. The shots I’d had before dinner were just subsiding, and I wanted to keep it that way, but I did take the bottle into the sitting room for her to enjoy. Cynthia always could out drink me anyway.

The room was warm and full of the flicker of candle flame and oil lamp. Cynthia was reclined on the sofa, the only seating in the room, as I turned on the vintage stereo. I pulled out an old album that was sure to enhance the mood instead of dictate the mood, and went to the sofa. Cynthia didn’t move, so I picked up her legs, sat down and laid her legs across my lap. She just grinned and downed the rest of that glass of wine. She sat up to put the glass on the table next to the sofa, then got up, moved over, and sat down on the sofa so that she was facing me. I reached out my arms, inviting her to me, and she leaned over into me, placing her face under my chin.

By this time she’s killed all but a swallow from that bottle of wine and I could tell she was feeling mellow, and intimate. I lifted her chin up, tilting her head up towards mine, and bent to kiss her. It was a gentle kiss at first, but as we lingered in the kiss our passions rose. Lips parted and tastes shared. Her tongue caressed across mine, inviting mine to come to her. The heat of the kiss spread to our bodies, my hands running across her back and down to her hips. Her hands through my hair, over my shoulders and down onto my chest, kneading my chest. We sat there making out like teenagers for long minutes, long enough for the album to play through the side and the music go silent.

Our kiss broke but our faces stayed close, touching, not wanting to separate. Her voice barely above a whisper, I heard her words, “Walker, take me to bed.”

My mind was whirling and thoughts flying around but something even better than taking her to bed came clear. Well, to be honest, it was sort of taking her to bed but in an unusual and orthodox manner. I sat upright and moved to stand up.

“Put your shoes Casibom Giriş on, Cynthia, and grab a jacket.” Her face changed dramatically, looking a mixture of disappointment, insulted and questioning. I stopped and turned to look at her, “and trust me. You’ll like it.” I scurried around gathering a sleeping bag and a blanket, stuffing them into a rucksack, grabbing a headlamp and a flashlight, putting on my shoes and jacket, and at the last moment putting the small bottle of amaretto into the sack.

“Ready?” She clearly didn’t look ready, more like scorned. I opened the back door and held it open for her, then once outside offered her the choice of headlamp or flashlight. She chose the flashlight, so I donned the headlamp but didn’t need to turn it on just yet seeing as how the full moon was so bright. Telling Cynthia to follow me, I headed off up a footpath up through the meadow behind the house, veering off near the upper end into the woods and towards the top of the mountain.

Cynthia had asked me several times where we were going but I always replied with something like, “you’ll see” or “just wait”, not wanting to give it away just yet. We’d been hiking for about twenty minutes when we neared the summit. Many years prior there had been an old fire lookout tower atop this summit, but it had been abandoned decades ago. I’d found it a week back when I was exploring the property. The old roadbed that led past the house had long since grown over but in daylight you could just make out the traces of the route. That’s what had led me to trek to the top. The old tower was still intact and remarkably good shape for the age. It wasn’t a really tall tower, just tall enough to peer over the treetops, and from below there wasn’t a line of sight due to the tree cover. The tower was essentially invisible from below but when I’d climbed up atop the tower to the observation deck the views were magnificent. When the tower had been taken out of service the roof and walls had been removed, leaving only the deck and handrails.

When Cynthia and I had finally reached the summit and the tower loomed over us, Cynthia stopped, turned her head up and said, “Wow! Walker, this is awesome. Can we go up?” I knew she’d be happy to find the tower. She had an adventurous side that liked those sorts of things.

“That’s exactly why I brought you up here. Come on, the steps are right over here.” I led her around to the steps and allowed her to ascend first. Once up on top the sky opened up to yield a glorious show of stars with the blanket of treetops below bathed in the light of the full moon. Thankfully it was a calm night so the chill was manageable. We stood at each quadrant and gazed at the panorama before us, remarking about the twinkling lights of the village and remote homes, and how beautiful the sight was. After we’d made the full circumference I pulled the sleeping bag and blanket from the rucksack and spread them out on the decking.

“Care to join me? The stars are viewed best from a prone position.” It was a legitimate invitation, but the full suggestion wasn’t ignored and a devilish grin grew over Cynthia’s face. Her first action was to come to me, press her body against mine, throw her arms around my neck, and look up into my eyes. The moonlight shown on her face in the perfect angle to highlight her delicate features, accentuating her simple beauty. I couldn’t resist as I leaned down to touch my lips to hers.

I honestly don’t know how we made it down onto the blanket, but we were trying to cover up with the sleeping bag, side by side, and the stars shown down in a perfect setting. We kissed, long and deep with the passion stirring to greater levels. Cynthia had put her hands inside my shirt and was rubbing my chest, and my hand had found the hem of her blouse and was cupping her breast over her bra. She leaned up on her side and with one hand unclasped her bra, a feat I’d always had trouble with two hands and looking directly at the thing. I always amazed me when women could so easily handle that task while us men always seemed to fumble and balk at the chore.

Our bodies eventually were bare, the warmth of skin providing even more stimulation to the building passion. Her legs were intertwined with mine, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies, my fingers finding her sweet nectar already oozing from the folds of her pussy. My erection was nearly at full mast as her hand wrapped around and began to gently stroke the full length. I found her neck with my kisses as her fingers ran through my hair. With both hands Cynthia pulled me over onto her, her legs parting enough for me to take position. I leaned down to kiss and suckle her firm breasts, seeing her dark areolas by the moonlight, puckered and with hard nipples standing proud.

Her hand gently guided my erection to her warmth as her knees parted and pulled up, her hips Casibom Yeni Giriş tilting upward to receive my advance. As the head of my cock slowly slid into the warm, slick environs of her tunnel Cynthia eased a soft moan of satisfaction. I wanted to both ram my full length into her at once, and to slowly savor the increasing depth of the moment. Slow and savory won, and we both moved our bodies as best to maximize the process.

It took several minutes for us to make the full depth penetration and when we were coupled as deeply and closely as possible we both paused to take in the sensation. We kissed deeply, tasting each other with lips and tongue, our breathing seeming to pause and the rest of the world vacant from around us. She wrapped her arms around me even tighter and pulled me against her body as we began that slow rhythm of pleasure.

We took a long, slow time in allowing ourselves to climax, trying to enjoy and prolong the building of the power of the release to its fullest potential. Though no words were whispered there was a full understanding of intention and desire, and in perfect synchronization we eventually began to move at a quickened pace, thrusting harder and faster, deeply moving before near withdrawal. Breathing became rapid and erratic, bodies were flushed with the exertion of quest for pleasure, both given and received, until at once the momentum of the moment soared through both of us at the same precise instant. Cynthia and I both reached a powerful climax together took over control of both mind and body, pouring out the built up energies with such vigor and completeness that we both were spent to the point of breathlessness.

We laid there, coupled and content, until we had regained our breath. As my erection subsided and slipped itself from her warmth I rolled to her side and pulled my arm over her chest. I kissed her lightly on the shoulder and turned to lie on my back beside her. We laid there for a long time simply gazing up at the stars of the sky. I was content and I believe Cynthia was a well.

“Walker, I don’t want this moment to end. Thank you.” I really didn’t know exactly what she meant, whether it was the setting, the weirdness of making love atop a fire tower in the middle of the night, being with me in this intimate moment, or what.

“This is special, a first for me, that’s for sure. I’m glad you weren’t against it. Gotta admit it’s not what you expected, now is it?”

In the light of the moon I could see Cynthia smiling and she cuddled up closer, putting one leg across me and her arm across my chest. She put her fact against my chest, and it felt good.

“You’ve always been different from the rest of the guys, Walker. This was a surprise, but awesome things like this is what I expect from you. Always did. I’m glad you brought me up there tonight.”

As we laid there quietly I could tell that Cynthia was getting a bit chilled, and to be honest I could have used a bit more covers than the this sleeping bag I’d brought. “You want to follow me back down the mountain?”

Looking up at me, Cynthia replied, “Yes, but only if you’ll let me share your warm bed with you tonight.”

“Hey, deal.” I couldn’t stop grinning.

We dressed quickly, I gathered the blanket and sleeping bag and headed down the stairs of the tower. When we got to the bottom and started back down the trail I jokingly asked Cynthia if she wanted to rise early and come back up to watch the sunrise from atop the tower.

“Yeah, that would be awesome, but just not tomorrow morning. You’re going to be busy in the morning.” I stopped dead in the trail, turned around to face her, already grinning, and gave her a long kiss.

Back at the house the warmth felt great but I could tell the wood was about exhausted in the wood stove, so I told Cynthia I would tend the fire while she made use of the bathroom. After stoking up the fire and turning out the lights I headed to the bathroom myself to ready for bed. The bedroom was dark and cooler than the den where the woodstove sat, and in the dim light of the single candle burning on my nightstand I could barely make out the raised portion of the thick down comforter where Cynthia was lying. She was still and quiet and I thought she might actually be asleep already. I eased off my jeans and shirt, pulled off my socks and pulled the covers back just enough for me to slip in. I leaned over and blew out the candle and settled back onto the pillow when I heard her whisper.

“You aren’t going to sleep with your underwear, are you?” I didn’t even say anything, just raised my hips enough to slip my underwear down, and then kicked them off. As soon as I had settled back to rest I felt a warm hand cup my cock and balls, and a smooth leg shift over onto my legs. Cynthia slid over beside me and I could feel the coolness of her breasts as they nestled against my side. She rose her head up just enough to kiss me on the cheek. She then whispered, “You sleep well, Walker, because you’ve got a busy morning ahead of you.” I turned my head just enough to give her a light kiss, and settled back onto my pillow. Sleep came easily.

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