ROMANTIC EROTICA | COUPLES | EROTIC FICTION
Emma Invites Noah to a Treasure Hunt, and She’s The Prize
Moving the booty call from her lover's house to the mountains
Previous Emma and Noah Chapters
No responsibilities, rules, or guilt; those thoughts whispered across her mind with the same serenity as the waves lapping the lakeshore not forty yards from her toes. Emma felt good.
She got to the cabin less often than she would have liked, but with the kids at their fathers for a week, she'd booked time off work, packed the SUV, and headed for the mountains. She was free at last.
Having arrived at the cabin only a few hours later, Emma arranged her supplies, exited the porch, and slipped into the hammock. Then, pulling a light-knitted blanket over herself, she swayed with the scent of the forest and the sounds of woodland creatures lulling her into a slumber. With the warm summer sun and a cooling mountain breeze, Emma smiled and told the chirping birds and chittering chipmunks, "The only naps you regret are the ones you don't take."
The sound of cracking wood echoed from the trees, sounding as frustrated as Noah felt. Pulling the axe toward him, his hand slid up the handle as he swung the tool in a high arc before tightening his grip and powering the steel through another pine slab.
Although he had no justification for such a grievance, an annoyance lingered. Tossing the chunks of bucked timber into the growing pile, he pulled another slab, set it on the chopping block, and then gripped the axe handle again. If he had to buck the entire trailer load of wood to burn away his resentment over having and losing Emma again, then that's what he would do. As much as the aftermath of spending a night with her tortured his soul, he knew whenever she called, he would answer and accept whatever part of her she could give.
The blue steel arced through the air and sparked images of her breathless smile, partly veiled by the lengths of her gorgeous ginger-blonde hair. The smooth axe handle, gliding across his palm conjured memories of his hands sweeping over her soft, firm, perfectly shaped ass, and the sweet scent of sap delivered the taste of her neck to his lips.
Everything about Emma haunted his mind and made his blood feel like fire and ice, but despite his best efforts to put her out of his mind, to Noah, Emma was the sunrise in each of his days.
His muscles burned, and his mind ached; the wood splintered and sailed through the air; his desire for Emma grew in tandem with the pile of chopped wood.
The sun felt good on her breasts, and the wild grass tickled her calves as she strolled naked toward the lake. With no one around for miles, Emma left her clothes draped over the porch railing and sauntered al fresco, ready to revive herself with a plunge into the alpine lake. Even with no one to witness her nudity, she felt bold, powerful, and even a little sexy. Then the thought occurred to her that there could be some adventurous boys camped out across the lake, and if they happened to look across the water, it would be a summer memory they wouldn't soon forget.
Emma had the face of a model and the body of a dancer. She recently turned 40, but tall, lean, and sculpted, with petite breasts and long, flowing hair, people routinely guessed her to be no older than thirty. Emma would have owned the world's stage as a supermodel and A-list celebrity if she had taken her vanity seriously. Still, at heart, she was just a small-town girl who couldn't imagine any stage matching her backyard Rocky Mountain paradise.
As she dipped her toes in the water, she again thought of possible voyeurs pressing binoculars against eye sockets. The chill of the pristine water turned her smooth skin to gooseflesh, raising the fine blonde hairs on her arms and hardening her nipples into delightful raspberries. Crouching until her knees touched the water, Emma plunged her hands beneath the surface and then splashed her face and body. A shocked but joyous shriek echoed off the granite cliffs. Chilled and naked but brave, she made two long strides into the lake water, swan-dived, and made like a loon gliding smooth and swift beneath the surface.
With no barrier between her skin and the pristine water, Emma scissored her legs until her chest clamored for air. Pushing herself past the panic, she dove for the bottom and pressed her fingertips through the sandy bed, touching stone from the basement of time.
Noah dumped the last bin of ice into the large rubber barrel spilling water over the rim and across his bare feet. His toes curled involuntarily, retreating from the frigid dousing, and once more, began convincing himself the cold-water immersion was a good idea. Aside from the healing benefits, sitting in a cask of freezing water was the only thing that could cool his burning desire for Emma.
Wide awake or drifting off to sleep, his mind replayed their last lover's rendezvous. He loved the shape of her: every feature, bend, curl, smooth line, and crease. To Noah, Emma was a staggering beauty. Inside and out. Her intelligence turned him on as much as her body, and he yearned to experience more of both.
Tacky with dried sweat and sticky from soft sap, Noah's muscles ached with the burn of hard work. Shedding his t-shirt and dropping his pants, he readied himself to climb into the frigid bath. The realization that after the immersion, his body, shocked into a primal healing state, would seek to heal the aches and pains from joints and muscles steeled him for the unnatural act of pushing himself to near hypothermia.
It had to be fast. No hesitation. Once he climbed the footstool and clamped his hands on the edge of the barrel, it was a hop and plunge. Blasted by the freezing temperature, Noah bobbed and shook, clamping his jaw shut and squeezing his eyes closed. He focused on his breathing. He stopped shivering and began to adapt. Today's goal was seven minutes.
With his eyes still shut, his vision turned back in time, and it wasn't the ice cubes touching his bare skin, but Emma with her beautiful fingers. The soft undulation of the water lapped at his chin and washed over his lips. Again, it was Emma. Straddling his lap, she sat with her arms crossed behind his back and her mouth on his. She was a magnificent lover and a beautiful kisser. Tender and fierce. Pushy and submissive. Demanding and docile. Their last tryst hadn't left his mind for a day since the night she'd made the booty call.
He loved her breasts. Petite but beautiful, firm but delicate. She had great nipples. Small, pretty, and hard. He loved swallowing them whole, sucking on them as his hands gripped her ass, pulling her waist to meet his, rocking rhythmically inside her. And she was so tight; her pretty pussy grabbed his cock, impossibly soft, warm, and wonderfully wet.
Then she clamped and squeezed, riding him and making it feel like his heart was beating through his balls. Emma used his body like an instrument and knew how to tune him perfectly. Her soft lips sucked on his ear but finished with her teeth biting down. She knew he adored her, finding every part of her irresistible, even her hands, and she was always conscientious of putting on a good show. Running them through his air, digging into his scalp, or gently streaming them across his face like rainfall. She let him see what he so enjoyed to his and her heart's content.
She smiled, her bright eyes blazing with mischief, and slid one hand along her body, over her breasts and stopping to pinch and tug each nipple before caressing down to her taut belly, teasing over her mound before curling them around his cock and joining his thrusts inside her.
He concentrated then, sending his gaze over every visible inch of her. He wanted every bit of her intoxicating frame burned into his memory. Her neck, dainty and elegant like a flower stem, and her nape were a constant invitation to seduction. Her shoulders, toned and muscular from a regular workout regime, showed her strength without sacrificing their angelic feminine form.
Then the rush would come. Her eyes went wide with a wildness. She kissed him, eyes open, teeth pinching his lips, and tongue darting deliciously inside. She moved with a primitive need mashing her breasts against his chest and her hips gyrating and throwing herself into his thrusts. She wanted to feel his power, draw it out of him and become a vessel of lust.
Spreading his hands wide over her small ass, he gripped her hard and collapsed her body against his with each thrust. Moaning in his ear, Emma kissed him greedily, then grabbed his head and pulled it to her tits, telling him to bite each one hard while she clamped onto him and ground her pelvis against his. Feeling his cock pulsing inside her brought her shuddering release, soaking his cock with her juices.
Emma pushed herself off in a final spoiling gift, crawled back on the bed, and stretched her long frame before him. Her legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed at the wrists above her head, looking like a ballerina laid out beneath him. Then her sweet voice asked him to paint her sexy, bare body with his cum.
Looking at her, he had no chance to hold back any longer. While his mind struggled with the reality of a woman being that gorgeous, he stood over her, furiously pumped his cock, arched back, and ejaculated his hot semen over her waiting, needing, pleading body.
The clang of the alarm broke Noah's daydream review. Time was up, and now he had to get himself out of the tub while he could still feel his legs. He didn't notice until he hitched a leg over the barrel's rim and placed a foot on the step ladder that his cock, despite having been turned into a popsicle, was engorged. Heavy, thick, and pulsing with the rush of circulation.
"Yup," he said to the bright blue sky above, "That's accurate. Emma is the only woman who can give a guy a hard-on while he's in an ice bath."
Pulling a towel over his shoulders, Noah hopped through his backdoor and hurried down the hall to his bedroom — he had one more healing exercise to complete.
Dressed in only a t-shirt, Emma swayed in the hammock with the afternoon sun warming her legs. After her skinny-dipping excursion, she kept to her naked freedom, eating lunch on the deck in a state as natural as her surroundings. She had just meditated on her contentment when an unexpected lonesomeness struck. It wasn't for children or the solitude, and it wasn't until her second bite into the fresh apricot that the answer came. Without even thinking about him, Emma realized that the quiet ache was for Noah.
Perhaps it was the wildness of her surroundings, or maybe her sense of freedom, but the heat she felt wasn't only from the summer sun. An idea popped into her mind. She rolled out of the hammock and dashed inside to prepare the surprise for her most ardent admirer.
Pulling jeans out from her travel bag, Emma pondered her pose — she was going to send Noah a picture and a clue — she intended to lure him into a quest, and she was the treasure.
As a rule, Emma never sent pictures on any device showing her in a compromising position. No nudes, no flashing, and the closest she ever came with being overtly sexy were pictures of her in a bikini. But the full-length mirror in the bedroom confirmed what she was feeling — she looked good with the sun giving some color and shine to her legs. For this one time, she decided to bend her rule for Noah.
Grabbing the jeans, Emma left the bedroom, headed to the kitchen, tossed the pants over a chair, took a bottle of Pinot Noir from her supplies, uncorked it, and poured herself a glass. Emma surveyed her stage as she sipped the libation and then propped her phone on the bookshelf behind the table. After a few practice shots to establish the correct frame, she was ready.
Executing her pose, Emma took the picture, then added the tempting words. Smiling at her wickedness, she skipped outside, verified she had reception, then pressed "send."
“I have several bottles, plenty of food, and days with nothing to do. But I have no company. I’m in the mood to share — if you can find me.”
She sipped and daydreamed, wondering if she was terrible for teasing him, but she could already picture Noah dropping onto his couch, staring at her photos and the words with a smile spread from ear to ear.
Laughing at her playfulness, she raised the glass for another sip but was surprised to find it empty. "Fair enough," she said to the woodpecker knocking on a tall pine, "it's too early for a big wine. I think I'll try the Rosé."
On her way back into the cabin, the woodpecker knocked again. Her hand rested on the rustic chair facing the lake, and contemplating the scenery, she decided to hit Noah with one more shot and a panoramic clue.
The jeans went on this time, and she swapped the red wine for the rosé. Though less revealing, the pose would be no less intriguing — and Emma knew precisely how to set the bait. She arranged the stage, took the picture, and sent Noah another message.
“Maybe this will help. Come find me, handsome! Oh, and make sure you pack your rod.”
When Noah stepped out of the bathroom following the hot shower to the sound of his phone rattling on the dresser, he smiled when he saw the message from Emma.
After scrolling back and forth between the two pictures and reading the words, he sighed and fell onto his bed.
He wore a grin from ear to ear. It was time to go fishing.
