Sensing that she was being watched, Camarin surreptitiously glanced inside the cabin. She saw Taylor standing at the kitchen window, her breasts still bare and her fingers playing with her nipples.
Camarin found it amusing to watch Taylor standing there, playing with herself and probably wondering why Camarin had not returned the favor. She did feel a little guilty about leaving her like that, but she had no choice.
"Hmm," she said, puzzling over what to do. Then it occurred to her that voyeurism was one of life's greatest stimulants. It would also keep her a safe distance away from Taylor. She unfastened one button on her shirt. Very slowly and seductively, she slid her hand inside the opening and pulled her breast free. The nipple barely visible, she played with it. Although she never considered herself an exhibitionist, Camarin found it to be very arousing. She felt her panties dampen once more.
Taylor watched Camarin's open display, wondering who else might be watching her. The cabins offered some measure of privacy but not enough to obscure Camarin standing by the woodpile, fondling herself. She gasped when she saw Camarin's other hand slide down the front of her shirt, then pause at the button on her jeans. "Oh!" she gasped as she stared at Camarin's blatant act of public masturbation.
What she did not know was that Camarin was watching her from the corner of her eye. Every move calculated to arouse Taylor, Camarin slowly unzipped her jeans. Her bright magenta panties were a sharp contrast to her pale skin. Camarin openly admired herself, sighing as she slid her hands down the side of her panties. Her fingers met in the center where her clitoris was pressing against the damp lace. She placed two fingers over her clit and began a slow rhythmic movement, parting her legs so she'd have better access. She placed one foot on the wood block, turning so her crotch was pointed directly at Taylor. Her tongue caressing her lips, she moved one hand to her breast. She teased the nipple so it was erect and hard, pushing against her shirt. Knowing exactly where to touch and when, Camarin felt an orgasm approaching within seconds. She looked at Taylor to see if she was watching.
Although her hands were busy, Taylor was nowhere near as close to an orgasm as Camarin. She played with her nipples, squeezing the tips and rolling them back and forth with her fingers. Her mouth hung open as she gazed down at her swollen breasts. Oh, she was aching so badly! What she wouldn't give to have Camarin's mouth at her breasts. "Umm," she murmured, her fingers stretching the nipples as far as she could. Every move she made, every nerve she stretched sent jolts of excitement through her.
There was a barstool beneath the counter, the seat a perfect square.
Taylor positioned herself on it so her clit was pressing against one of the hard corners. Slowly, rhythmically, she rubbed her clit against the barstool. She tried to pace herself with Camarin, watching her every move as she masturbated in the back yard. Sliding backward, then forward, she panted as her pussy rode the hard surface. Her fingers teased and stretched her nipples. All the while, she wished it were Camarin's hands punishing her wanton flesh.
Camarin was having fantasies of her own, fucking Taylor's sweet little pussy. She envisioned herself poised behind Taylor, a dildo strapped around her hips. Down on all fours, Taylor would be wiggling her ass, begging Camarin to fuck her. She could hear her voice all raspy with excitement, "Fuck me, Camarin. Give it to me.
Please." Beside herself with arousal, Camarin hurriedly pushed her pants down enough so she could fuck her own pussy. She felt in her pocket for the vibrator she kept with her at all times. It hummed to life when she flicked the button. The sleeve was ribbed with evenly spaced bumps designed to caress a woman's vagina in a slightly different way. Using one hand to part her lips, Camarin slowly edged the vibrator inside of her. Her mouth was open and she could hear herself panting, her breath sending a stream of white puffs into the cold winter air.
Just as expected, Taylor watched Camarin masturbating beside the woodpile. She fondled and squeezed her nipples while she rode the barstool. When Camarin started using the vibrator, Taylor used a thick candlestick she found lying on top of the counter. All within easy reach, she couldn't help but wonder if Camarin had planned it this way. She placed the candle upright on top of the stool, then rode it like a stallion. Bucking and rocking, she gasped for air as she spun a million different fantasies around the beautiful woman outside her window.
Unknown to Taylor and Camarin, someone else was listening to their every sound and watching their every move as their bodies spoke to one another through the distance that separated them. Taryn was perched on the limb of a pine tree a few yards away from the cabin.
She was seething with anger, thinking how foolish she was to trust Camarin with her young protege. Yet, deep within her own sub-conscience, she knew things were going just as she'd planned. She could hear Camarin panting and moaning as she fucked herself. She glanced through the kitchen window, watching as Taylor mimicked Camarin's every move. "Horny little bitch, aren't you Taylor," she whispered.
Perhaps it was the sudden realization that they were clearly visible to anyone who happened by, or maybe it was that sense of being watched, either way, Taylor and Camarin were becoming more and more excited. Their bodies fought to prolong the time it took them to orgasm. Despite the cold mountain air, they were becoming unbearably hot. Taylor had fucked her pussy raw with the thick candlestick. Now she was banging her clit against the edge of the barstool, hard bruising thrusts. Then she slowed down, circling the swollen nub gently over the hard surface, cooing and purring with pleasure as her toes curled and oxygen flooded her brain at a pace so rapid she became dizzy. Swaying on the barstool, she clutched the counter for support.
Taryn watched the scene from afar. She was uncertain what had prompted her to check on them, but she was glad she did. She was going to teach them a lesson they'd never forget, at least for a while.
She edged very quietly down the tree trunk, careful to not alert them to her presence. Once on solid ground, she glanced at them again through binoculars. It wouldn't be too much longer now. She hurried through the wooded area, circling to the front of the cabin.
Stalking like a cat, Taryn crept across the yard to the front door.
She held her breath for fear that Taylor might hear her. Very cautiously, she turned the doorknob and slipped inside the warm cabin. She could hear Taylor in the kitchen. Her breathing was so jagged that Taryn didn't know if she'd have time to accomplish her deed. She looked down the hallway to her right. Having stayed in one of the cabins before, it was just as she'd expected. She tiptoed down the hallway to the bedroom.
Moving quickly, Taryn completed her task and hurried out as quietly as she'd entered. She circled through the woods and back to her hideout. The wooden box was just as she'd left it. Taryn stepped on it then hoisted herself up. With only seconds to spare, she perched on the tree branch and focused the binoculars on Camarin and Taylor.
Both women appeared ready to explode at any moment.
Unfortunately for Taylor and Camarin, another explosion occurred just before that exquisite moment arrived. The explosion they heard rocked the air like a sonic boom. Both women stopped in mid-grope, startled and frightened by the sound. At first, it was hard to tell where the bomb had exploded. Taylor was the first to realize it was from somewhere in the cabin. Coughing and sputtering, she hurried out the back door.
Camarin smelled the smoke, too. She saw Taylor running toward her, screaming her name. "Camarin!" she yelled as she raced out the back door. In another time and place, she would have appeared very comical. She was bare from the waist up and her pants were tangled around her knees. Her chest flushed with pre-orgasmic arousal, it was more than obvious what Taylor had been doing when the bomb exploded.
Tears stinging their eyes, Taylor and Camarin had difficulty seeing as they groped their way through the smoke. Each one wanting to check on the other, they collided in the middle of the yard. Camarin's fly was hanging open and her shirt was unbuttoned. She sat up and offered Taylor her hand. "Are you okay?" sh
e asked.
Still gasping for air, Taylor nodded her head. She was coughing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
Thinking Taylor had done something stupid, such as leaving the stove on and the oven door open, Camarin scowled at her. "You and your cookie baking could have gotten us killed!" she yelled. Before Taylor had a chance to defend herself, Camarin covered her mouth and nose with the tail of her shirt and rushed back inside the cabin.
The smoke was so thick she could barely make out the cabinet where the fire extinguisher was kept. Although she managed to find it, she could not find the fire. "Oh, great," she muttered. This was going to be a little more complicated than she'd thought.
Taylor burst through the back door just as Camarin was starting down the hall. "Camarin!" she yelled. Her throat still choked from the smoke, Taylor's voice was barely audible. She started after Camarin, following her into the master bedroom. They spotted the remains of the smoke bomb at the same time.
"Damn it!" Camarin exclaimed, coughing from the sudden inhalation of the smoke-filled air. "Why would someone do something like this?" she asked, looking about the room as though expecting to find someone sitting there, watching them.
"Who knows we're here?" Taylor asked, a puzzled expression on her face as she, too, tried to figure out who might have done this.
"I don't know," Camarin muttered. "Maybe someone followed us up here. Most people who know me know my car, so it wouldn't be hard to find us. I just can't understand why." She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I suppose it could always be a client, someone who got pissed at one of us but didn't have the nerve to confront us directly.
"Wow," Taylor said. "They'd have to be awfully mad to go to all this trouble." She looked around the room, frowning when she saw the closet door standing open. "Oh, great!" she growled. "Now we're going to smell like a smoke factory."
Camarin started opening the windows, trying clear the smoke. "We better get this mess cleaned up before the smoke settles in too much.
If Taryn gets billed for damages, she'll have a fit."
"Okay," Taylor said. She started sweeping pieces of broken glass from objects that had been jarred to the floor. The glass swept into a tidy heap in the center of the room, she followed Camarin down the hallway. She watched as Camarin scurried about the cabin, opening doors and windows to air out the cabin. It seemed an awful lot of smoke for such a tiny mechanism. Taylor started to pick up pieces of metal scattered in the hallway.
"No!" Camarin screamed. She dived for Taylor's hand just as she started to grasp a piece of the metal. "It may be hot," she explained.
"Oh," Taylor replied, too embarrassed to think of anything else to say. She watched as Camarin used a pen to roll the metal onto her shirttail. She gathered it up and carried it very gingerly to the kitchen sink. She dropped it into the sink and turned on the cold-water tap.
Steam started rising.
"Yes, I'd say that's hot," Camarin said. She turned the faucet off and looked around the room for a container to gather the pieces from the hallway and the bedroom. An empty cereal box was sitting by the refrigerator. She grabbed it and instructed Taylor, "Bring a hot pad to pick up the pieces."
Obediently, Taylor took a hot pad from over the stove and followed Camarin down the hallway. The two women spent the next twenty minutes coughing and wheezing while they searched the cabin for glass and metal. If they'd been in the living room, they might have recognized Taryn's car driving past. As it was, they got into an argument about whether to call the local law enforcement. Camarin was trying to pry the cordless phone from Taylor's hand.
"Stop it!" Taylor shouted. Frightened by the incident, it made perfect sense to her that they notify the local law enforcement of what happened. "We are not the ones committing the crime here," she exclaimed. "Now either you give me the phone or I'm going to drive to the service station and use the pay phone."
Camarin was not in the mood to argue. "Do whatever you want,"
she told Taylor. "But remember one thing. Lavender Excursions prides itself as a place where women can expect complete confidentiality. If you bring law enforcement into this, they're going to start asking a lot of questions and snooping into our business.
That's the surest way I know of scaring off clients, especially if it gets written up in the paper."
Taylor sighed, a hangdog expression on her face. Suddenly her work at Lavender Excursions didn't seem very much fun. "Okay," she muttered. "You go ahead with whatever you're doing and I'll finish cleaning up."
Camarin watched for a moment, wanting to make certain Taylor wasn't going to do something stupid when she left. But Taylor seemed resigned to the situation and was dragging cleaning supplies out from underneath the kitchen sink. "I need to run an errand,"
Camarin said. "But first I'm going to get a change of clothes from my car and take a shower at the recreation center. If you promise to behave, I'll find something for you to wear until we have a chance to wash our clothes."
Taylor scowled but nodded agreeably as Camarin started out the door. This was one of those times when she was acutely conscious of her immaturity and lack of experience. She sighed and finished gathering the cleaning supplies. Deciding to start with the kitchen, she gave vent to her childish anger and emptied the cookies into the trashcan. "So much for domesticity," she muttered.
Chapter Twelve
By the time Camarin showered and changed, she'd calmed down a little, but she still didn't feel like going back to the cabin. It was too depressing. On a whim, she decided to walk to Kimberly's cabin and return her gloves. She went to the guest register and asked for her cabin number. "Thanks," she told the clerk as she pressed a ten-dollar bill into his hand.
As she left, Camarin realized how easily someone could have gotten the cabin number for where she and Taylor were staying. If someone had a grudge, what better place to take it out than this remote section of backwoods? She made a mental note to mention it to Taryn. It might be time to have the company's private investigator do a little research on their customer database. There might be some clients worth investigating, although she couldn't imagine who it could possibly be.
She strolled very leisurely across the lobby, her eyes darting back and forth, searching for signs of a suspicious character. By the time she arrived at Mark and Kimberly's cabin, she was amused by her antics. Laughing at herself, she removed her glove and knocked on the door of their cabin.
Mark was poised over Kimberly's nude body, his penis glistening with her wetness. He growled when he heard the knocking at the front door. "Fuck!" he muttered. He thrust his penis deeply inside Kimberly one last time. "It might be Uncle Bob," he grumbled. "I better go see." He withdrew himself from Kimberly and reached for a tissue on the bedside table. After wiping Kimberly's cum from his penis, he pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt. "This better be good, Uncle Bob."
After Mark left the room, Kimberly curled herself into a tight ball on the bed. She felt so miserable and confused. She wanted to go home and curl up in her own bed with her three cats and a good book.
However, she was here and she couldn't think of a way to get out of it.
The first tear was threatening to fall when she heard Camarin's voice at the front door.
"I thought she might be needing these," Camarin explained. She dangled Kimberly's gloves in front of Mark's face. From the looks of his clothes, Camarin suspected she'd picked an opportune time to call.
When Mark reached for the gloves, she snatched them away and started into the cabin.
Stepping over so he blocked her path, Mark frowned and asked,
"What? You think I won't give them to her?"
Camarin frowned and wagged her finger back and forth in Mark's face. "Are you always so suspicious?" she asked. "I just thought we'd better make certain the gloves are hers. They look rather expensive, so if they're not hers, I'll drop them off at the lodge and hope that whoever lost them thinks to check there."
A sheepish loo
k on his face, Mark stepped aside and motioned Camarin inside.
Acting very causal and nonplussed, Camarin strode past Mark and smiled when she saw Kimberly coming down the hallway.
"Kimberly! We were just talking about you," she said.
Kimberly smiled and walked over to Camarin. "What brings you here?" she asked, suddenly conscious of how disheveled she and Mark must look. She pressed her hands down her shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.
Camarin found it very amusing. She held Kimberly's gloves out to her. "These yours?" she asked.
"Why, yes," Kimberly replied. "I take it I must have forgotten them." She reached for the gloves, acutely aware of Camarin's hand brushing against hers.
"Maybe," Camarin teased, pausing for a moment, "you didn't forget them at all." She winked at Kimberly as though at some private joke.
Kimberly felt her cheeks blushing with embarrassment. Afraid that Mark would pick up on the sexual innuendo, she laughingly replied,
"It wouldn't work. Mark would just buy me a new pair," she said, reaching for Mark's hand. She hooked her arm through his and pulled him to her side.
Mark grinned and squeezed Kimberly's arm affectionately. "Nah, I'd just make you use my pockets to keep your hands warm," he replied, a huge smile on his face. To emphasize his point and perhaps to show Camarin that Kimberly was taken, Mark took Kimberly's hand and pressed it inside the pocket of his jeans. "There," he said, wiggling her hand deep inside the pocket. "Now we'll both stay warm."
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