She lay beneath two quilts listening to the gentle lapping of the lake against its shore. Soon the chirping of the birds anticipating the rising sun would infiltrate and then obliterate the peaceful sounds of the depths of night by the shore of the lake. The morning dew, or the fog rising from the lake would penetrate the solarium where she slept (or lay resting, alert, unable to sleep); the solarium her husband had converted to a bedroom and sitting room when she had become ill, when she had expected to recover from her illness. But her cancer had spread unrelentingly and her sick bed had become her death bed.
She would lay in peace, drifting in and out of sleep, dreaming and thinking, until eight o'clock when Bernard would bring her a one egg goat cheese omelet, a cup of vanilla yogurt with fresh fruit, a small glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and a cup of fresh brewed coffee. Some days she could eat a little, others not at all, but he always would serve her and sit with her until her nurse arrived at ten. Her morning routine would have begun.
But until then she would relax and enjoy the cacophony of the birds and the returning quiet of the morning and the peaceful sounds and enervating smells of the lake, dreaming the most erotic dreams of her life with Bernard and, waking, planning for his well-being after her death.
The Invitation
Marie invited Elizabeth to lunch Saturday late in May. They had been teaching together for over fifteen years and were close friends. Marie had ulterior motives. Her friend had been widowed for five years, and Marie thought she was ready at least for a good fucking but perhaps for a real relationship. Her younger brother would be staying at the lake in July, and she knew he and Elizabeth enjoyed each other's company even though Elizabeth was fifteen years his senior. And something she knew about each of them convinced her they should be together.
The invitation came at a time when Elizabeth had just begun to consider dating. She would have refused it had Marie asked her just a month before. The chance to get away from the city and to spend an idyllic month by a New Hampshire lake might provide her just the rest and relaxation she needed before returning to the fray. She was about to accept when Marie told her about Bernard.
"I've told Bernard I intended to invite you. He does the laundry and the cooking, so I thought it only fair. He said it is as easy to care for three as it is for two and easier to cook for three. He enjoys your company and hopes you'll come," Marie confided.
And now Elizabeth thought long and hard. Not quite the rest and relaxation she had been contemplating, but she had always found him very easy to talk to the few times she had had the chance during dinner parties at Marie's. As she thought back to these nights, she recalled him as a quiet and thoughtful man, a good listener with a gentle manner. He said little, but she opened herself to him as if he were another woman. She asked Marie if she could let her know her decision after the weekend.
She dreamt that night of Bernard kneeling naked between her legs, her bottom resting on a single pillow, looking at the top of his head as his tongue worked slowly and persistently from the tender flesh at the base of her cunt deep into her vagina and then spreading broadly parting her inner lips broadening further and running gradually upward lunging in fluid motion over her clitoris. He licked her deliberately and deeply again and again. She imagined his cock straining and spewing a steady liquid flow. He focused his tongue on her bud moving slightly and continually but never releasing her from its soft, insistent flesh. She woke and ran her hand under her pajamas between her thighs. Her lips were fully engorged. She penetrated herself with her middle and ring fingers and stroked herself deeply and slowly as he had been licking her. Her outside fingers caressed her outer lips; her palm pressed firmly and steadily on her clitoris. She listened to the screams of a stranger as her orgasm tore forth from her cunt shocking her breasts and stomach. Her palm continued to press her bud, more gently now urging wave after wave of pleasure from the core of her sex. She returned to sleep with her hand buried deep in her cunt and dreamed again of Bernard laying naked and erect by her side.
That morning after breakfast Elizabeth called Marie and accepted her invitation.
Her Arrival at the Cottage
Rain had been falling steadily and hard all day the Tuesday late in June when Elizabeth arrived at the cottage. She smelled the smoke of a fire Bernard had lit in the living room as she opened the car door expecting to rush to the door. But the tall pines which surrounded the cottage on the lakefront protected her from the worst of the rain and she walked unhurriedly toward Marie who held the door for her. The two women hugged and kissed and Marie took her coat and hung it in the entryway. Bernard was in the kitchen dressed in an apron stirring a bolognese sauce. The smells of the sauce, the fire, the rain, the pines and the lake ... the smiles of Marie and Bernard ... welcomed her. She felt immediately at ease. Marie led her through the kitchen to the living room where they sat by the fire. Bernard brought them each a glass of pinot noir and they settled in quietly together. When Bernard appeared with Elizabeth's luggage, Marie led her upstairs to her room and Bernard put her two suitcases on the bed telling her he would get them out of her way when she had unpacked. After a delicious dinner, the three sat and talked before the fire until, at about nine o'clock, Bernard went upstairs to bed. Elizabeth was surprised he went to bed so early. When he was upstairs and out of earshot, Marie said, "He's letting us have some time together." They talked into the night, finally settling in to bed around midnight.
Elizabeth awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and the morning sun just breaking the horizon. She pulled a robe over her nightgown, walked to the kitchen, and found Bernard also in a robe standing over the stove heating leftovers.