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The Cabin – Part 81

He picked up my bag when we left the downstairs and when we reached this point in the tour, he opened one closet door to reveal a completely dark and empty space. He set my bag inside on the floor.

“You can hang anything you like here.” When he flipped the light switch, he revealed a half dozen hangers, but two lengths of vacant hanging space on either side of a carpeted galley, and at the end, a step down to a tiled floor with a washer and dryer.  I entered closet nirvana.  My gasp made him smile.

“Why is it empty?”

“It’s been waiting for the right clothes.”

When I finished hanging my attire, as well as what I wore for the past hour, we finally lied down together, this time with the intention to be together. I wondered how our second attempt at passion would translate now that we knew we both wanted to be together for the right reasons.  Would I be as stunned and delighted as the previous night?

As impressive as his home compared to his plain tent, his body’s performance enthralled me and nearly overwhelmed me during its encore performance. And truthfully, it may have the appearance of a cabin, but never in my life had I ever spent time in surroundings that felt so much like a resort or a mansion, or even more so, like a home.  Maybe I did feel more safe here than anywhere I ever been with a man, but I believed the man, not the home, made the difference in fulfilling what my life always lacked.

When he laid his head on the pillow next to me, I took the opportunity of his finally relaxing and being at ease in his own bed to begin by stroking the hair that I adored since the first moment I looked at him. As he closed his eyes and allowed me to pamper his skin, I eventually made gentle, soft love to him as if he were made of glass.  It still took a while to see inside him completely, years in fact.  But once we both became at peace in each others’ lives, we both began seeing counselors, and we both began to heal from all the ugly bits and pieces we each experienced.  We opened up and shared with each other the smallest heartbreaks and the largest struggles that we tackled by ourselves, and then slowly left them in the emptiness that existed before that weekend.

Like us, the fire across the room lost its fury and energy after the several hours we spent together in his bed, making love, making each other laugh, and making each other’s lives lighter.

“Do you want to go camping next weekend?” He asked me as I started to doze off.

“Yeeesssss!” I answered slyly as I did the previous week, and as became my trademark response when I really wanted something he offered me.  “Should I bring my own tent?”

“You can if you want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

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About Pam Portland

For a decade and a half I worked behind a series of desks, peeking out from around my computer monitor. Seeing the United States in bits and pieces wasn't enough to satisfy me, so I am grabbing my virtual pen and taking flight. Welcome along!

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