“The Cabin”

                         Rudolph Strang

  Although I didn’t realize it years ago, there’s nothing like having a warm bed to

come home to after a long day at work.  It’s especially welcome if it’s being warmed

by the woman who is mother-to-be of your first child.  A little over a year ago, I

would never have thought of coming home to such a thing.

  I work long hours, and have been for a long time, even before I met my love.  I

had ambitions, mostly of being financially comfortable and influential, but now more

of the former and the latter instead of just being happy.  I want to provide the

best for the family I am soon to have.

  Doffing my shirt and tie, kicking my shoes off and draping my trousers over a

chair by the bureau, I stretch a little and gently sit on my side of the bed, combing

her headfur aside, but careful not to wake her.  It is her last month, and good

sleep often eludes her, so it is a novelty to look upon her peaceful face as she

sleeps.  It also gives me a chance to look at her deliciously fecund body without

making her self-conscious.

  It’s almost frightening at how quickly my path in life has changed, the situation I

am now involved in.  I went from lone bachelor to impending fatherhood in less than

60 seconds it seems.  Of course, the process has really taken much longer, but

from accounts by relatives and friends, it never seems that way.  Meeting my mate

at a party, it took me all of a week to fall in love with her, a month to become

physically intimate with her, and another four months to decide to start a family

with her.

  This might seem impulsive to you, but to us it just seemed the right thing to do,

like we had little voices in our heads telling us to stop wasting time and get down to

doing the business nature wanted us to do.  Our parents and relatives were a bit

shocked at the rapid development of things between my love and I, but since we

married, the ruffled fur has smoothed out a bit.  As a matter of fact, we’re now

getting a little more advice and help than we think is necessary, but it’s good to

know we’ve got their support.

  Did I ever mention that getting a woman pregnant is often as easy as falling off a

log?  Well, in our case it was that easy, or rather, it was a set of circumstances

that made it that easy.  We had been together for five months when we decided to

take a little getaway vacation for a couple of weeks at my grandfather’s cabin,

tucked away in a mountain valley a half- day’s drive from home.  When we had

arrived and were unpacking things from the car into the cabin, when it was

discovered that my mate had forgotten her purse, which was sitting on the sofa

when we returned from the trip.  In it were her birth-control pills. 

  Now, the pragmatic thing would have been to drive home to retrieve her purse,

spend the night home and return to the cabin the next day, but she didn’t really

want to do that.  Actually, neither did I.  Another option would have been to go to

the nearest town and purchase some condoms, but again consensus kept us where

we were.  I don’t know what it was, but considering the romantic location, things

were going to happen that would change our lives.  I wasn’t entirely unaware that

something was afoot, however.

  The cabin we were staying at has something of a history, as family lore goes.  The

land was originally owned by my great-grandfather, handed down to grandfather

who built the cabin, then to my father who would in the future hand it down to me.

When I picked up the keys to the cabin from him, Dad had a little story to tell

that I figured was more fanciful than factual.  Apparently, the cabin had

mathematic powers over it’s occupants.  Two would go in, three would leave. 

  What Dad meant, was that couples had a tendency to reproduce after an

overnight stay at the cabin.  He said he was a result of my grandparent’s first

overnight at the cabin, as was I.  He also listed siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and

friends who had made stays at the cabin with their mates and went home to later

discover a bun in the oven and a conception date traced back to a stay at the cabin.

Being a modern male, I had my reservations about the story.  Of course, now I

know better, even better than my father does.  I don’t think it was the cabin.

  On our first night there, both of us were tired from the drive and toting stuff

into the cabin, which also had to be cleaned of dust and swept out from a winter’s

idle time.  After a couple of sandwiches and a soda, we retired to the master

bedroom in the loft for the night.  We went to bed and did nothing more than

sleep.  So much for the mysterious powers of the cabin.  The next morning was a

different situation.

  The cabin had been connected to an artesian well and modern plumbing installed

when Dad was a teenager, and electricity also came in as other cabins sprouted up

about the lake it was on when I was a child.  Our area was relatively secluded

though, because we had a large surrounding parcel of land and never sold any of it

off.  I had turned the plumbing heat-tape off as there was no longer danger of

freezing and ran water to clear the pipes the night before.  I had also turned on

the hot water heater because a nice shower or bath would feel good the next

morning.

  My first morning ritual has always been to go get a glass of water and have a slow

drink while I pondered the day ahead of me.  I especially enjoy the water at the

cabin because it’s remarkably pure and sweet.  I was the first in the kitchen

because my mate’s always been a bit slow waking up, so I was leaning back and

sipping off the remains of my water when she arrived.  As my custom, I nodded and

smiled to her as she wandered in and fetched a glass from the cupboard.  The odd

thing was, her smile was much wider than mine, wickedly wider.  After she gave me

a compliment about the quality of my “morning wood”,  I followed her gaze to see

what was probably the most impressive erection I’d so far had in my adult life at

the time.

  Have I ever mentioned that males are weak?  If there are three things we need

from life to meet our essential requirements, it’s sex, food and drink.  First, we

think about sex and once we’ve had that, we’re hungry and thirsty.  Once that

need’s satisfied, it’s not long before we start thinking about sex again.  It’s a never

ending cycle.  We are totally ruled by a little demon between our legs for a major

portion of our lives and annoyed by it for the rest.  It’s nothing but trouble.  I had

a lot of trouble going on.

  My “morning wood” was poking out of my bathrobe like a prairie dog scanning for

threats from it’s burrow, but I think it was looking for opportunities.  My love’s

embarrassed me before, and I’ve wilted like lettuce under a heat-lamp, but this

time it was not going to happen.  As she filled her own glass of water from the tap

and drank of it, the expression on her face began to change from amusement to

something else. 

  As she pulled the glass from her lips, a droplet ran down her chin as she put the

glass to the counter, reaching out to me to grab my robe by the collar and engage

me in a passionate kiss as she dragged me from the room.  We didn’t make it that

far as I wound my arms into the folds of her robe, and our legs tangled as we

sidestepped through the kitchen door.  Tumbling to the floor like several sacks of

potatoes, we did the whango-bango in the doorjamb, oblivious to anything else.  I

guess a good night’s sleep gives a person energy to do such things.

  The remainder of the time we spent at the cabin was fairly much a blur, with the

exception of some hints I’ll pass on to those of you who think sex in the wilds is

the hot stuff: 1) Don’t go naked outdoors.  Just more stuff for mosquitos to bite.

2) Sex on hiking trails; make it an unpopular one.  We were interrupted, then

photographed.  Have you seen us on the ‘net?  3) Anthills aren’t pillows.  4) A bee

stung me on the ass, making things interesting in mid-coitus.  My love offered to

re-create the scenario, as it had something extra in it for her, I guess.  I declined.

5) Do not cook bacon while naked unless you have a lid for the skillet.

  Everything that involved the cabin, essentially involved the water.  I figured that

out a few days into our stay there.  It’s not like I couldn’t think between bouts of

the mad lust that drinking the water brought on.  Needless to say, my love had a

bun in her oven by the time we left the place, although the signs weren’t apparent

then.  I never did learn why the water had no effect on me when I was single,

perhaps it’s a psychological thing.

  So tonight, as I watch my love sleep, I visually pore over her body.  There’s

nothing like knowing a woman carries your child to affirm that you’re a fully

functioning male.  As the weeks and months have gone by, seeing her belly swell and

her breasts weigh heavy, I find it difficult to contain myself.  As I look into her

sleeping face, I wonder if the child will look like me with her eyes or vice-versa.  I

know either will be just fine.  We have plenty of bottles filled from the cabin in

the utility closet anyhow.  No need to go to the country.  We do need to start

looking for a house though, a large one.   My love says she gets thirsty a lot.

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