"The cabin is at least still standing," Warren said to himself once the old, wooden building came into view.
His truck slowly crawled across the worn, bumpy gravel drive that led to his rural hideaway. For days, he pictured his cabin in disrepair as he let his son use the place to host his friends for a weekend getaway from college. Despite the promises his son made to clean and take care of his cabin, Warren knew his son would likely fall short with his promises.
Warren pulled up to the cabin and exited his truck. He took a deep breath and let the scent of the fresh forest air fill his nostrils. The trees surrounding his cabin revealed tiny green buds, the first sign of spring. Warren's mind began to race with visions of fishing in his little lake, hiking around his property, and getting away from his busy job once it got a little warmer. He soon after snapped out of it as he remembered why he was here in the first place, to check on the condition of the cabin after a long winter and likely long weekend of drunk college students. Warren circled the small, two-bedroom structure. None of the windows were broken, the doors were on their hinges, and the siding looked intact. Apart from the deck needing a coat of stain, the exterior of the cabin looked as it always had.
The exterior was only half the story. Warren stepped on to the deck and pulled out his keys. He peered through the front door's window as he fiddled with the lock. From what he could see, nothing was out of order. The furniture was in place, all the pictures and mounts were still on the wall, and nothing looked damaged. He unlocked the door, and slowly opened it. Immediately his nostrils were hit with a familiar, unwelcomed smell. Stale beer. The place reeked of it. Warren took two steps into his cabin, and with each step, his workboots peeled off the sticky floor. His son obviously did not mop. Rings of spilled beer puddles could be seen all over. There were even drops on the wall at some spots. As he walked into the kitchen he came across a trash bag of empty cans and bottles that had spilled over. The bag was untied and even more liquid had leaked out.
"This will be the last time I give you the keys," Warren said to himself as he texted his son the same thing. Warren walked over to a closet, pulled out cleaning supplies, and spent the next hour cleaning up his son's mess.
Once the cabin was clean, the supplies put away, and after a long text exchange with his son, Warren was ready to leave. Before he could enter his car, he remembered his ulterior motive for checking up on his cabin. Before winter, he had placed a trail cam on his property he was gifted for his birthday. With any sign of motion, the camera would take a hi-resolution photo every thirty seconds whether it was day or night. Warren was eager to check out what the camera had captured over the past few months. He quickly made the short hike to the lake and the spot where he mounted the camera. The lens was pointed at an area by the lake that was a hotbed for deer.
Warren easily unstrapped the camera from the tree and brought it back into the freshly cleaned cabin. He took out the SD card and plugged it into his laptop. The file popped up containing hundreds of photos, each one dated with a timestamp. From the beginning, he began to cycle through the photos. They were all pretty similar, with what looked like the same family of deer grazing once or twice a week. Every now and then he would get a squirrel or fox, but nothing too exciting. Warren was amazed how the camera managed to take such high-quality photos no matter how dark it was outside. He continued to cycle through the photos at a rapid pace as it was more of the same. As he came towards the end, he suddenly came across something out of the ordinary.
In a photo was a woman. When Warren zoomed in on the photo, he recognized her face. Her name was Shelby, one of his son's friends. Warren had met her a few times when he visited his son on campus. She was a gorgeous, young woman, only 21 years-old. Slender, a bit of a southern accent, and a face that always had a warm, inviting expression, Shelby had a classic kind of beauty that Warren always sought after in a woman. Her hair was blond with a little curl that fell just below her shoulders. In the picture, she had on a flannel shirt and skinny jeans which hugged her figure. Warren slowly scrolled through the next few photos. There were several more of Shelby pacing in front of the lake as if she were waiting. With the thirty-second intervals between photos, she had been waiting for quite a few minutes.
Warren began to pick up the pace of his scrolling when another person came into frame. He knew who this person was. Braden, another one of his son's friends, and on-and-off boyfriend of Shelby. He instantly recognized his overgrown, shaggy hair. He scrolled to the next photo and the two were embracing each other. Shelby was sat upon a tall stump as the two kissed. Her legs wrapped around Braden's thighs. Warren scrolled through the next couple of photos in disbelief of what he had captured. He could not believe of all places to sneak away to, they picked the one secluded spot that happened to have a camera pointed right at it. It was obvious they did not see it. It was nearly impossible to see if you did not know where it was.
Warren continued to scroll with anticipation of what was coming. Suddenly, Shelby's flannel shirt was opened. Exposed was her dark, floral bra. By the next photo, her shirt was on the forest floor. Warren grabbed the crotch of his jeans and adjusted the fabric as his cock started to stiffen. Sweat started to bead on his forehead as his anticipation grew with every photo he cycled through. He slowly clicked but was treated to more of the two making out on a stump.
