The old wooden floorboards of the lakeside cabin creaked under Liana’s bare feet as she padded toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, the late afternoon sun painting her skin in gold. She’d been here for three days—alone, by choice—supposedly to "clear her head," but the real reason was far more carnal. The isolation, the quiet, the way the wind carried the scent of pine and damp earth through the open windows—it all made her restless, her body humming with a need she couldn’t ignore.
She didn’t bother with modesty. The cabin was miles from the nearest neighbor, and the only soul who knew she was here was Tom, the gruff, broad-shouldered handyman who’d dropped off firewood that morning with a smirk that lingered in her mind like a promise. Liana bit her lip, her fingers already trailing down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts. She was soaked. The thought of him—his rough hands, the way his biceps strained against his flannel shirt—had her pussy throbbing before she even touched herself.
She kicked the shorts off, letting them pool at her ankles before stepping out of them. The cool air kissed her bare skin, her nipples tightening as she leaned back against the window frame, spreading her legs just enough to give herself room. Her fingers found her clit, swollen and desperate, and she let out a shaky breath as she circled it, slow at first, then harder, her hips rocking into her own touch. Fuck. She was already close. The cabin was too quiet, the only sounds her ragged breathing and the wet slick of her fingers working her pussy.
That’s when she heard it—the unmistakable crunch of boots on gravel.
Liana froze, her hand still buried between her legs, her pulse spiking. Tom. It had to be. No one else knew she was here. She should’ve been embarrassed, should’ve scrambled for her clothes, but the thought of him catching her like this—spread open, fingers deep inside herself—sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. She didn’t stop. Instead, she arched her back, letting her head fall against the glass as she fucked herself harder, her free hand groping at her breast, pinching her nipple until she gasped.
The front door creaked open. "Liana?"
His voice was rough, deeper than she remembered, and when she turned her head just enough to glance at him, she saw the way his gaze locked onto her—her glistening fingers, the way her pussy clenched around them, the flush spreading across her chest. His jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the doorframe like he was fighting for control.
"Didn’t peg you for an exhibitionist," Tom growled, stepping inside, the door slamming shut behind him.
Liana smirked, pulling her fingers free with a wet sound before bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean. "Maybe I just knew you’d be back."
That was all it took. He was on her in two strides, his calloused hands gripping her hips, spinning her around so her palms pressed against the cold glass, her ass on full display. She could feel the heat of him behind her, the thick ridge of his cock straining against his jeans as he ground against her.
"You’ve been a bad girl, Liana," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers dug into her flesh. "Teasing me all morning with those little glances, then this?" His hand slid between her thighs, two fingers plunging inside her without warning. She cried out, her body clenching around him, so wet it was obscene. "Fuck, you’re dripping."
She didn’t have time to respond before he was undoing his belt, the sound of his zipper like a gunshot in the quiet cabin. His cock sprang free, thick and veiny, the tip already glistening with precum. Liana licked her lips, pushing back against him, desperate to feel him inside her.
Tom didn’t make her wait. He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance before he drove into her in one rough thrust. Liana’s breath left her in a rush, her nails scraping against the glass as he filled her completely, stretching her in a way her own fingers never could. "Oh, fuck—"
"Too much?" He didn’t sound concerned. His hips snapped forward, his balls slapping against her with every deep, punishing stroke. The cabin was filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding, the wet slap of skin on skin, Liana’s moans growing louder, needier.
"No—harder," she gasped, reaching back to grab his thigh, urging him on. He obliged, his grip on her hips bruising as he fucked her like he owned her, like he’d been thinking about this since the moment he’d first seen her. The window fogged with their breath, the wood beneath them groaning in protest.
Liana could feel her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly. "I’m gonna come," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Please, don’t stop—"
Tom’s hand snaked around her front, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. "Come on my cock, Liana. Let me feel that tight pussy milk me."
That was it. The words, the filthy demand, the way his cock hit that perfect spot inside her—she shattered, her body convulsing as pleasure ripped through her, her walls clamping down around him so hard he groaned, his thrusts turning erratic.
"Fuck, yes—" His fingers dug into her skin as he buried himself to the hilt, his cock twitching deep inside her as he came, hot and thick, filling her up until she could feel it dripping down her thighs. They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them breathing heavily, the world outside the cabin forgotten.
Finally, Tom pulled out with a wet sound, his come spilling from her pussy as he gave her ass a sharp slap.