The Cabin: Chloe's Story (Book Two) (The Cabin Novellas) (3 page)

Chloe

Breathing heavily, I
lay on the bed and let the last tremors of the orgasm trickle through me. With my eyes shut, the guy on the train was still holding me in his arms as I sat propped on the basin. With my chest rising slowly up and down as I drew breath, the last glimpses of my fantasy trailed away like faint smoky embers. The vibrator hummed beside me on the bed. Fumbling for it, I switched it off.

Although bringing
myself off had gone someway to sedating that sexual longing I had deep inside of me, it wasn’t like having the real thing. I wanted to feel a man against me, deep inside of me. I wanted to hear his deep guttural grunts as he came. I wanted to hear a man tell me how much he wanted me – how much he wanted to fuck me. I wanted to know that I turned a man on – I wanted to feel sexy and desirable. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d felt like that. Hearing a make-believe guy say those things inside my head wasn’t enough any longer. It was like sticking a Band-Aid over a deep cut – it would only help for so long. With my naked body gleaming with a sticky sweat, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My legs felt weak. I thought about hiding the sex toy in the drawer beside my bed. Nah, I thought. Let Ben see it. If he knew I was frigging myself off, it might stir him in to giving me the real thing. I doubted it – but it might.

I left my bedroom, and switching on the shower, I stepped inside and closed the glass door. Tilting my head back and closing my eyes, I let the warm water rain down on my face. As I washed my body, I searched my mind for any way that I might be able to get Ben interested in me again – how I might get any man to be interested in me again. I feared I had become as mundane as the life I now led. There didn’t seem to be any excitement anymore. The women in those erotic books I had started to read were getting fucked pretty much every day. But that was just fiction, right? But was it?

I’d listened to some of the girls talk at work over morning coffee and none of their lives seemed to be as dull as mine. They were getting fucked one way or another. A couple of them were having flings with guys in the office. Another had an Italian lover who she visited in Rome once a month. I sat and listened with envy as she explained how, once a month, she booked a ‘no frills’ flight online and flew over to Italy for a long weekend.

“Three nights and days of unadulterated fucking,” she smiled. “No strings but plenty of thrills!”

She then returned home to a flat full of cats, satisfied until her next trip out to Italy. All of them seemed to have much more experience with men than me. Sometimes they talked about ex-boyfriends and what they had gotten up to with them. I had no such stories. My only sexual experiences had been with Ben, and to be honest, there wasn’t a lot to tell, even if I had have wanted to. These days there was nothing at all to tell unless I wanted to confide in them about my sad little fantasies I had about the guy on the train. That was the closest I came to having any fun these days.

Turning off the water, I took a fresh towel from the rail on the bathroom wall. Drying myself, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was pretty enough, I thought, staring back at myself. My breasts were pert and still upright, and my stomach was as flat as a board. I turned slightly and looked at my own butt. That looked okay, too. I could remember Ben calling it a ‘candy butt’ when we first got together.

“A candy butt?” I had giggled. “Why a candy butt?”

“Because it’s so freaking sweet,” he would smile, turning me over and entering me from behind.    

Those first couple of years had been good. We had had fun. Wrapping the towel about me, and telling myself that the guy I had first met was still deep inside Ben somewhere, I went into the living room and switched on the laptop. As the screen flickered into life, I knew I had to try one last time to bring that guy – the old Ben – the man I had fallen in love with back into my life. Going online, I hit my history browser. The ‘Bed-Swappers’ website appeared on the screen.

“Now why did I even bother looking at that page?” I wondered out loud. “Ben wouldn’t screw his own wife, let alone someone else’s.” 

I clicked off the page, and chewing my lower lip, I typed ‘romantic secluded weekend break’ into the search engine. I hit the search button. Google chucked up pages and pages of possible locations. I scrolled down the page then clicked onto another, hoping that something would jump out at me. By page ten, and figuring I would never convince Ben to come away with me, I was just about to snap the laptop shut when I saw an advert which simply read ‘The Cabin’. Guiding the cursor over the link, www.thecabin.org.uk I clicked onto it. Although the webpage was simple in design – no frills here – there was a picture of a rustic-looking cabin surround by rich green trees. The cabin looked to be constructed from wood with a porch and small set of steps leading to the front door. It didn’t look pretty, grand, or anything special, but there was something about The Cabin. I read the description to discover that it was set in the Lake District, some way up a remote Cumbrian Mountain called the Cross Fell. The nearest village was a few miles away and was called Lufton. I’d never heard of the place. The Cabin was described as an authentic log cabin, in a forty-two acre mountain paradise. It had a stone wood-burning fireplace, comfortable furnishings, and a veranda with mountain views. There was a romantic Jacuzzi tub for two and a romantic master suite.

Starting to get a little excited, imagining Ben and I shut away in that cabin
together, I knew that if we could go to such a place, I might be able to save my marriage.  In such a place, miles from anyone and anywhere, fantasies were made. It would be the ideal place for Ben to shrug off his fears and worries, stresses, and concerns about his career. The online description didn’t say anything about there being a TV, either, so he wouldn’t be able to watch football. Why would such a place need a TV anyhow? I thought. Anyone going to such a romantic and remote place would be too busy fucking to watch TV. Hopefully, Ben and I would be too busy, too.

With a nervous twinge of excitement, I placed the cursor over the ‘Book Now!’ icon. Even as I put in tomorrow’s date, I knew it would already be booked up for the next six months or so – such places always were. They were being used by people like the girl from work and her Italian lover. But much to my surprise, my dates were accepted and a message flashed onto the screen, asking me to submit my credit card details. Reaching round in my chair, I snatched up my handbag from beside the sofa. I fished out my credit card and entered the details online. Once approved, I printed off the receipt, which came with a map giving directions up the side of the mountain to the cabin. There was also an instruction to collect the keys from a pub named the Slaughtered Lamb situated in the village of Lufton.

Folding up the receipt, I placed it into my bag. Turning back to the laptop, I knew all I needed to do now was to persuade Ben to come with me to the cabin.

Four

Ben

I twisted the key in the lock and pushed open the front door. I staggered into the hallway of our
apartment, my head feeling like someone had buried an axe into it. Kicking the door closed, I passed the bedroom. With one hand to my temple, I glanced into the room, half expecting to find Chloe halfway through her sex aerobics with that pink pulsating lump of silicone thrust between her legs. Chloe wasn’t there, but I could see her joy-toy lying alone in the centre of our bed.

Turning away, I headed down the hall and into the living room. Chloe was sitting at the table by the window, staring at the laptop screen. What was she looking at now? I wondered. Probably her favourite website ‘Cock-Swappers’ or whatever it was called. I couldn’t remember now, my head hurt too damn much. Whatever the name of the website, it was revolting and disgusted me.

Chloe looked up as I collapsed onto the sofa. I lay back, swinging my feet up onto it and crossing them at an angle. I heard Chloe snap the laptop closed, pushing her chair back from the table and cross the room towards me. I glanced up to see she had a towel wrapped about her slender frame. Probably been washing off the sweat worked up from her afternoon of dildo-gymnastics, I thought, the pain in my head almost crippling now.

“You poor thing,” Chloe hushed, kneeling down beside me and gently stroking my brow with her fingertips.

Why was she being so nice? I wondered. The onset of one of my headaches usually had her reaching for her sex-sabre and slamming the bedroom door shut in my face.

“Have you taken any painkillers?” she soothed, brushing the side of my face with the back of her hand. Her touch felt nice, cool and soft against my feverish hot skin.

“Two,” I groaned, closing my eyes against the fading sunlight filtering in through the living room window.

“Let me get you a glass of water,” she said softly, getting up and heading for the kitchen.

I heard her turn on the tap and the sound of the water sloshing into the glass felt like spikes being dragged across the front of my mind. Why was she being so nice? So understanding? I couldn’t help but feel suspicious. Maybe she had taken a step up from the imitation cock lying on our bed and had found herself a real one with a proper man attached to the end of it. I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to think about that. The thought of Chloe being screwed by another man made me want to vomit. Maybe she had found a new guy while browsing ‘Cocks ‘n Gobblers’ or whatever the fucking site was called.

Chloe knelt beside me again, offering me the glass of water. Easing myself up against the sofa pillows, I took the glass from her and popped two more pills from the packet in my pocket. I swallowed them whole, followed by a gulp of the ice cold water Chloe had fetched for me.

“Poor Ben,” Chloe said, rubbing my thigh with her hand.

Oh God, she wasn’t going to suddenly grab for my cock
, was she? Chloe wasn’t being kind purely to get at my dick, was she? I gently brushed her hand away.

“I was only trying to be nice,” she whispered, tightening the towel about her as if to prove the point.

I looked into her pretty blue eyes and they looked sad somehow.

“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand in mind. “It’s just that my head is freaking killing me.”

“You need to see someone, Ben,” she said, gently squeezing my hand.

“I’m not going to see a doctor,” I grumbled. “You know how I feel about doctors.”

There was a pause before Chloe said, “You need a break then.”

“I don’t have the time,” I said, closing my eyes and resting my head back against the pillows again.

“But it’s Friday,” Chloe said. “We have the whole weekend ahead of us. We could spend it together somewhere...”

“I’ve got a whole bunch of paperwork to get done before Monday morning,” I groaned, thinking of the report which had to be handed into head office on my return to work.

“Can’t it wait?” Chloe said, a sense of despair creeping into her voice. “Can’t we just spend the weekend together for once?”

“We will be together,” I told her, not in the mood for this conversation right now. “We’ll be here together.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, letting go of my hand. “Sitting here watching you sup beer while you watch football then bury your head in a mountain of paperwork isn’t what I call being together.”

“I need to get the paperwork done or I could be without a job,” I said, half opening my eyes and looking at her.

Then, jumping to her feet and placing her hands on her hips, Chloe said, “And if you don’t come away with me this weekend, you won’t just be without a job, you’ll be without a wife, too!”

“Please don’t get hysterical, Chloe,” I mumbled, rubbing my head.

“I’m not being hysterical, Ben,” she glared. “I’m being
serious
. Unless we spend some proper time together this weekend, I’m outta here!”

“So what?
You’re gonna go find yourself some cock?” I said through gritted teeth.

“And why not?”
Chloe hissed back. “It’s not like I’m getting any around here sometime soon.”

“Look, let’s just both calm down,” I winced at the pain inside my head. “Let me get this project finished and then maybe in a couple of weeks’ time, we can...”

“No, Ben!” Chloe shouted at me, and the sound of her voice seemed to rattle my brain against the sides of my skull. “Not next month, not in two weeks, not next week... this weekend or I’m leaving you. I’m serious.” 

I opened my eyes a fraction more and shivered at the look of determination on her face. “But it will be too late to book any place,” I said, plucking the first excuse that came into my troubled mind.

“I’ve already booked a place,” she shot back. “It’s paid for and everything.”

“You’ve booked a place,” I said, unable to hide my shock.
“Where?”

“It’s a remote little cottage in the lake district,” she explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Remote,” I whispered, feeling as if I had been ensnared somehow. “How remote are we talking about? Does it have wi-fi? A mobile phone signal?”

“Fuck the
wi-fi, fuck your work phone, and
fuck you!”
she shouted, spinning around and storming down the hallway to the bedroom. The door rattled in its frame and I gripped my head with both hands.