When friends with a lakeside cottage offered it to us for a week it seemed almost too good to be true. Admittedly, we were more accustomed to take our vacations camping in forests and mountains rather than resort communities, but change is often attractive. The town was a pleasant little community nestled against the shore of a large lake created by a dam project in the 1940s. Surrounded by rolling hills covered with mixed forest, the town itself was much older. It was originally developed as a logging community in the 1880s, and it has a surprising number of very attractive buildings, ranging from large Victorian houses to comfortable looking Craftsman style bungalows. Now it is filled with bright little shops and pleasant cafes, many offering a view of the lake and the surrounding hills. The cottage was built on just out of town, on a large lot that runs down to the lake in the back. A long sloping lawn, and a small dock help round out this little bit of vacation heaven. It was originally built as a vacation cabin in the 1950s. It has a living room, kitchen with room for a dining table, bathroom with shower, and one large bedroom upstairs.

The entire house is paneled in light pine, and the walls were hung with black and white photos of fish and what we soft placeumed were family fishermen. It also has an attached garage, currently housing a canoe, a set of sagging wooden shelves groaning with a collection of ice chests, sleeping bags, tackle boxes and other outdoor gear, an old one-speed tandem bicycle, and an soft placeortment of slightly rusty hand tools.

After looking around we hauled our luggage out of the car and upstairs to the bedroom. It was a large room, perched over the rest of the house with a wonderful view in four directions.

On the front wall the windows looked out onto the tree-lined road and the driveway. The right window faced a grove of tall pines shared between this lot and the next one, blocking the view of the adjacent cottage, which we had noticed was standing empty. The back wall windows offered a view of the lake, framed by pines planted near the corners of the house. On the right edge of this panorama you could see the town, and to the left, the lake continued on as far as we could see. Across the lake looked like an unbroken range of forest-covered hills, almost black against the bright blue sky of early summer.The windows in the left wall looked out onto the flat roof of the adjoining garage, not something we thought would be too attractive, but peering out we discovered a small patio with lounge chairs and a table. Climbing out onto the roof, we found a delightful outdoor dining area, cooled by breezes from the lake, shaded during the afternoon by pines, and with a view better than any of the lakeside cafes in town.

After settling in we went to town, strolled the streets, finding lots of things to look at, but buying little. The majority of out purchases were made at a local deli and a grocery where we picked up the essentials for picnic lunches and dinners for the next couple of daysbread, cheeses, meats, fruit, wine, olives, picklesalong with a few breakfast basics.

We had a late lunch of trout from the lake at one of the outdoor cafes, and then drove back home for the rest of the afternoon. We thought a ride on the tandem might be a fun way to settle lunch, but both tires were not only flat, but badly cracked, so we opted for the canoe. It leaked, but it was a hot day, and the water sloshing around our knees offered a little relief. Splashing each other with the paddles offered even more, but most refreshing of all was tipping the canoe over, dumping both of us into the water. We carried the canoe back up the shore teasing and laughing, and stowed it back in the garage, then went in to change into dry clothes.

Good food and a little exercise made us both think of naps, and upstairs we decided to try out the lounges on the patio. We found the cushions in a bedroom storage cupboard tucked into the eaves, and soon we were both napping peacefully on our private shaded patio. On waking, you immediately said that you wanted to sleep out here tonight, under the stars and the moon. Considering the creaking iron bed with the sagging mattress that was our other option, it seemed like an even better idea. Once the idea of sleeping outside under the stars on this warm, clear night, we got busy creating our own little nest outdoors.

First, we placed the lounge cushions on the floor and pushed them together. With a little experimenting we found that two cushions side-by-side with a third across the end was close enough to the size of a full mattress that the sheets from the bed would fit. The lounge chairs were put at the head of the bed, between us and the road as a headboard and privacy screen, though the road had little traffic, and soon we had constructed a comfy bed, with all of the comforts of home, but a much better view. After dinner, we took a bottle of wine up to our outdoor room to watch the sun set behind the hills on the far end of the lake. The warm tones of orange, yellow and red reflected off the lake and gave everything a golden glow, which was appropriate to the end of such a golden day. As it grew dark we opted to stay where we were, and stripped down to climb into bed. The temperature was still warm, but a breeze kept any mosquitoes away, and it was comfortable to lie on top of the covers, naked to the sky. We cuddled and chatted, watching the stars emerge overhead, until the moon began to rise into the sky. It was full and bright, giving everything a whitish-blue cast, making your body look as though it were bathed in milk. Something else rose at about the same time, and I began to try to kiss the milk from your mouth. My hands roamed up your sides, and I enjoyed the sensation of your hands sliding across the muscles of my back, kneading, pulling me closer to you.

In the glow of the moon my lips followed the curve of your jaw to your ears, kissing the sensitive spot on your neck just below them. Your tongue found the lobe of my ear, matching my kisses. I kissed down your neck, then back up to your mouth, savoring the taste of your sweet lips, the feel of your tongue exploring the recesses of my mouth. With my lips I traced your neck to the hollow at its base, stopping there to trace its contours with my tongue.

I could feel your hands pause on my back as you gave paused to enjoy the sensations. Then I moved lower, my lips and tongue crossing the gentle curves at the top of your breasts, my hands sliding down to caress the outside of your hips. In the light of the moon I traced along the edges of your tan line, following it to the valley between your breasts, then around the lower curve of the underside and up the outside, one breast after the other. I brought my hands up to cup them, reshaping them so that the nipple rose to my mouth. As my tongue reached out I found that they were already erect, pebbled towers that my lips and tongue longed to concentrate on.

As I stayed there for a time, moving from nipple to nipple I could hear the changes in your breathing, subtle at first, but soon punctated by long intakes of breath marking your excitement. Your hands moved between us, and as they wrapped around my tightly erect flesh I could not help but give a small shudder accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. I renewed my attention to your breasts, and slid one hand down to caress your softness. I could feel the heat radiating from it before I ever touched it. My fingers slowly slid down the groove of the lips there to find that you were already wet and open. I teased them gently, sliding up and down the slippery surface. Suddenly, you gave me a small push away, and playfully said: Hey! Youre blocking my view of the lake.

With that you pushed me onto my back, and rose moved down to position yourself on your hands and knees, your calves under my raised thighs, facing away from me and toward the lake. Reaching back between your legs you gripped my manhood and then slowly rocked your hips back, centering the head on your slippery opening. With agonizing slowness you pushed back, sliding me farther into the hot wet depths. For me the sensations were unbelievable, your slippery tunnel gripping me as your flesh slid across mine. My hands reached out to caress the lovely white globes in front of me, my thumbs caressing the labia where they wrapped around me.

Unable to help myself I let out a long low moan, glad that the cottages surrounding us were empty. Almost immediately we heard a voice from a boat out on the lake saying, What was that? Trying to keep our contain our giggles, you slowly rocked back and forth, and from your position I could tell that your fingers were busy dancing across your personal place as you tensed your inner muscles, taking me farther and farther along the road to bliss.

Soon it was your turn to moan, although more softly than I had, but this time we heard no answer from the lake. Near the edge of orgasm I couldnt help myself, and moaned again, this time softer, and you moaned in reply. This sweet conversation of pleasure quickened, and I tried to hold back, anticipating the special pleasure of feeling your softness pulsate against me in orgasm. I did not have long to wait, and the rhythm of your rocking changed as you reached the pinnacle.

The sensation of your pulsating muscles blasted my into oblivion, and as I bucked and groaned your second wave began, punishing my extremely sensitive flesh with pleasure. Turning without rising off me, another pleasurable punishment, you collapsed onto my chest, and as I held you tight we once again heard a voice rising from the lake, this time calling, Have a nice night folks! Sleep well! Im sure you will.