Daisy's Adventures in Love
Trip to the Mountains
When my daughters busted Brad and I mid-thrust — who knows who was on top, I’m not sure, it was a whirlwind of passion, wind ripped from our sails and records were poorly kept — I realized I should’ve taken him up on his invitation for a romantic weekend away at his cabin the mountains. Damn it, I thought they were at soccer practice, and Brad and I thought we’d be the ones scoring a goal, or goals if we were so lucky, ha! But as we sprang apart, mutually mortified, the shot went wide of the net. And so, Brad and I booked time together at his cabin.
Nestled among the trees, with the exquisite towering Rocky Mountains for a backdrop, sat the most stunningly beautiful rustic cabin, Brad’s cabin. A stream meandered languidly through the trees, providing a calming bubble to the perfect scene. A romantic weekend getaway.
Several weeks ago, when we were out for supper, out of the blue, Brad mentioned, “I have a cabin in the woods near Canmore. Would you like to join me for a weekend of skiing and fun? Would you be able to arrange for your parents to take your girls?”
I didn’t know you had a cabin.
“Yes, that sounds great! I’ll make it happen.” And I did. I’ve been excited ever since!
Life is hectic, what with each of us having two kids and successful careers, finding time to get together is always a challenge, but one that we both embraced. An added challenge is that my girls are with me full time, while Brad’s kids are at their mom’s every second weekend. My husband, Adam, died in a car accident five years ago and we’d been on our own ever since. Thank goodness my family is close by and are available to help whenever required.
Round two of us dating was going swimmingly. Round one had been quite another story. It had felt magical and then it ended in a crash and a clunk, confusion, disappointment, and a river of tears. He hadn’t been ready for a long-term relationship as his divorce had been devastating for him. Thank the stars he worked through his “stuff” and then reached out to me when he was ready. The timing of round two worked for both of us. I had still been stumbling through the disaster of crazy men on the dating circuit when he texted me out of the blue. Our renewed connection and fireworks were through the roof.
We spent the day skiing at Lake Louise. I hadn’t been downhill skiing for several years, but it came right back to me, just like riding a bike. I love feeling the wind whipping through my hair as I fly down the slopes. “Woah girl, slow down, I can hardly keep up to you!” Brad joked. He was an excellent skier, very graceful compared to my self-taught fastest-way-down-the-hill technique.
I grinned, “Ha-ha, sure, right!”
We stopped for lunch on the hill: burgers and beer. It felt great to relax, stretch, and chat. Sitting with our knees touching under the table had freed the butterflies in my tummy. Where did they all come from? When he placed his hand on mine that familiar warmth spread through my body, right to the tips of my toes and fingers, everywhere. I stared at Brad as he was talking.
Damn it, I’m falling deeper in love.
Falling? Girl, you’ve fallen.
Yes, I want this man. Forever.
I’d been unsuccessfully trying to protect my heart since we started dating again, but I felt pretty sure that was useless at this point, I had fallen. Hard. I smiled as Brad continued telling me about a project at work.
Yes, I love this man.
The sweet, somewhat simpering voice on my shoulder, Bridget, whispered to me, “He better not get cold feet again. My heart still aches at the thought of it.” Princess Pussy, my the louder, hungrier, more carnal, and impulsive voice, shook her head, “He’s past that, worry wart. The sex is great. Everything will be fine. He wouldn’t have come back if he wasn’t.”
But was he? Shit! Bridget has a point. What if he pulls away again? I’m not sure my poor heart can handle that again. I inwardly shook my head. He’s changed. He’s put in the work. He’s ready to be my man. But is he, really? How does anyone know for sure? I didn’t like the answer. Simple . . . we don’t. We love who we love and only we know the reason why. I know my love is true, and deep. And damn it, that’s all I can control.
I snapped out of my trance. What did he just say? Something about systems and . . . crap, I don’t know.
The afternoon was filled with more swish swishing down the slopes. For our last run, as we were riding up the chairlift, Brad suggested, “How do you feel about moguls? My favourite run is just to the left of here. Shall we try?” Eek! I shrugged and nodded, “Sure, why not?”
No problem, I got this.
As we reached the top, my confidence wavered.
Shit, that’s why not.
There I stood, at the top of the bloody run, looking down.
How in the fuck am I supposed to get down this?
There were moguls. And not just any moguls, the biggest, most gigantic, steepest moguls I’d ever seen. And for added fun, challenge and benefit, there were numerous large and lovely trees interspersed. Fuck!
No room for error here or I’d become one with the bloody trees.
Fuck! Here goes nothing!
I pushed off, and in relative slow motion, I tackled the first mogul, careful to keep my eyes on the prize. Around it I went.
Yeah, success! One down, twenty-some to go. I could hear and feel my heart beating in my ears and my breathing was much too loud for the energy I was exerting. I’m sweating like there’s no tomorrow. Scared and excited as hell!
I successfully maneuvered number two and then stopped to catch my breath. I looked back toward Brad, smiled, and waved. He nodded and started down the hill. Swish, swish, swish, he flew down the moguls like they were nothing. He stopped halfway and looked expectantly toward me. I could almost hear him say, “Ok, Daisy, your turn, let’s go girl! You’ve got this.”
Shit, here I go again.
I made my way down the run methodically. It wasn’t elegant, but I did it. And I didn’t die. A story to tell my girls.
On our way back from the slopes, Brad surprised me with supper at the Grizzly House, my favorite restaurant in Banff, with a multiple course fondue meal to die for. We enjoyed our evening sipping wine and dining on incredible cheese and bread fondue, veggies, and broth, chicken, beef, shrimp and even alligator cooked on the garlic butter hot rock. We rehashed our skiing adventure while we sipped and nibbled.
As we were sitting enjoying the fullness of our bellies, Brad moved our discussion toward the energy industry.
“Daisy, everybody keeps talking about it, but what exactly is energy transition?” Brad asked. “Is it just a woke buzzword or is it real? Pipedream fantasy,” as he moved his hand onto my thigh, “or urgent — necessary — reality?”
Enjoying his touch — instantly wet is more like it — I sighed and explained, “It’s all that. Woke buzzword, yeah.”
Brad stroked higher and deeper along my thigh. Mmm, yeah.
His fingers turned gentle circles on my hot skin.
Keep talking Daisy, so he keeps doing … what he’s doing up under my skirt. Oh, Brad, don’t stop!
“Energy transition,” I continued, enjoying every second, “is the shift from fossil-based systems of energy production and consumption, including coal, oil, and natural gas, to renewable energy sources like wind, solar, hydro, and batteries.”
“Oh, so eventually we’ll just be able to survive on solar, wind, and hydro?”
It was taking a lot of effort to focus on the discussion. His fingers were distracting the hell out of me.
“Uh, no, not really. At this point, there isn’t anything that can meet all the needs that petroleum and natural gas fill. It’s a transition and for the foreseeable future, we need renewables and non-renewables to work together. Kind of a best-of-both-worlds. Cleaner energy.”
“Oh, I see,” Brad commented, his fingers continuing to work their magic. “A long time?”
The longer the better. It’s sooooo nice. Focus Daisy, focus!
“If we ignore the consumer products made from petroleum and just talk power for a sec, the sun doesn’t shine, and the wind doesn’t blow all the time. If those were our only sources of power then we’d be in blackouts constantly, just think about windless nights. Natural gas is a much more environmentally friendly alternative to coal. It fills the renewable void nicely.”
OMG, am I boring him to death? Are his eyes glazing over? Yikes! Almost done. Ha!
“Renewables and non-renewables combined create an opportunity for entrepreneurial innovation. It really is an exciting time for energy.”
His fingers turned new circles, and I moaned almost noiselessly.
We’re in a restaurant for crying out loud.
“But we can’t stop now. We have to keep…keep going.”
Brad was nodding enthusiastically as he continued with his discrete movements, listening, staring intently at me as I continued talking.
“It isn’t a moral thing,” I breathed. “One technique, ahh, source of energy is not ‘good’ or ‘bad’, just with different … mmmm … consequences.”
“Oh,” Brad said, “So it’s good we’re trying new things and learning what works best?”
“Yes!” I, damn near shouted. “Yes! New things are good.”
It IS good.
Brad relented and after a quick trip to the men’s room to wash his, uh, face, returning in time for the final course: melted chocolate and fruit fondue. He leaned toward me, “I don’t know how I’m going to fit any of that inside my belly, but I’m going to give it my all. It looks and smells scrumptious!” I was way ahead of him. Everything he’d done had worked up my appetite again, after all. My mouth was already filled with chocolate and a strawberry so all I could do was nod and grin.
As Brad swirled his banana — tsk, tsk the one on the end of his fork you with the dirty mind — around in the chocolate, coating it thoroughly, he asked, “What about taking all the power created during the day from solar farms and storing it?”
“Eventually that might be a possibility but currently it isn’t on a large scale. Batteries can only store so much.”
Brad nodded, “Oh, I didn’t realize that. Interesting.” We continued to enjoy the luscious dessert. My tummy was rapidly losing any free space it once had.
After Brad settled our bill, I purred, “Thank you sweetie; that was delicious. But …” I paused and laughed, “Now you’re going to have to roll me out of my chair, piggyback me out of the restaurant, and down the street back to your truck. I’m so stuffed. Maybe we can borrow a shopping cart?” I giggled, “O-M-G, that chocolate fondue is to die for!”
Grinning, Brad replied, “I know what you mean, Daisy! I’m full to the brim. Let’s wander up the main street and give our tummies a chance to settle before rolling back to the truck.”
Brad took my hand in his as we walked down the street, staring at the majestic mountains as we reminisced about our day on the slopes. Brad had never experienced a day like ours before. His ex-wife had no interest in going skiing or hiking or doing much activity outside. I’d been lucky with Adam; we’d enjoyed these types of activities together. I felt extremely fortunate that Brad and I shared this as well. It was a must for me. I had zero interest in being with someone who didn’t enjoy being active with me. I was beaming thinking about Brad, and us, as our trek took us toward the river.
As we rounded the curve in the river, Brad pulled me off to the side of the path, took my face in his hands and kissed me hard. He smiled, looked deeply into my eyes, and said, “I love you, Daisy Flanigan. You’re amazing. Thank you for being patient with me and for loving me. I’m so happy we found each other.” Then, he let go of my cheeks and took me in his arms. A muffled, “I love you too, Brad,” travelled up from his vest, where my head was buried. I was grinning from ear to ear and so was he.
When we felt our tummies had settled enough, we walked back to the truck, hopped in, and drove straight to the cabin.
Love in a Cabin
When the truck rumbled to a stop, Brad removed his hand from my knee, where it had resided for the drive. He hopped out, opened my door, took my hand, and led me out of the truck. He wrapped his arms around me, and put his hands on my waist, oh now my back, my ass, his hands were roaming. He kissed me deeply, passionately.
My thighs are on fire. Hell, my whole body is on fire.
I felt that kiss deep within my loins. When we finally came up for air, I let out an extremely satisfied and heavenly sigh as Brad enveloped me in his arms again.
Heaven, this IS heaven!
Moving out of the cold and into the cabin, Brad let go of me long enough to get the fire going. I glanced around. The cabin was Brad. His secret den, his man-cave. But I didn’t feel like an intruder. His warmth emanated from the rustic furniture to the log walls, an imperfectly perfect representation. I instantly felt comfortable and welcome within its walls, just like how he makes me feel in his arms.
Ooh, he keeps looking at me with yearning and desire, I love it.
Once the fire was roaring—the other one, the one in the fireplace—Brad turned in my direction, his eyes hungrily devouring me as he strode toward me. I could feel his desire as he tilted my head back and we merged into one as we kissed. He kissed my neck and then slowly removed every article of my clothing, one item at a time, some with his hands and some with his teeth, slowly. Kissing every square inch, surveying my skin and soul with his lips. I was glowing. My body was vibrating. My desire for him was throbbing through my body, everywhere. My erogenous zones were begging for his touch.
Once I was naked, Brad led me to the bed and asked me to lie down on my back. He spread my legs, kissed from my right heel all the way up my legs to my inner thigh and then gently flicked his tongue on my clit before he started to lick and suck. OMFG! I moaned, “Oh Brad, that … um … feels … so … good … holy … fuck … I’m …” I didn’t even finish the words and cum was gushing into my pussy. As I finished, Brad’s tongue hungrily entered my pussy to lap up my cum. Between licks he said, “Mmmm, you taste great.” My eyes were rolling into the back of my head in ecstasy, and I wanted more.
Brad ripped off his clothes and flung them to the side. I could only stare, my mouth gaping, at his chiseled body, taught from the hours spent in the pool, on the bike and running. Oooh, triathletes.
I was snapped to attention when Brad commanded, “Get on your hands and knees.” Oooh yes, command me, Brad. Quickly, I flipped over and got into position. He spread my legs even wider, so I was completely exposed. Vulnerable. I felt a wave of heat as I let go and submitted to his touch. I ached for him. Leaning into me, he spread my lips, and started licking my pussy again. If it was heaven before, this was a whole second level of heaven. Incredible and dirty and sexy and well, fucking AMAZING!
I am so turned on. Am I panting? Yup, I sure am! Oh Brad, I want you inside me.
Next, he tapped my butt gently with his hand, then a mini smack. I jumped. Ooh, I kinda like that. Brad grabbed my hips firmly, pulled me to the edge of the bed and he thrust deep inside me. Again. And again. I was cumming instantly. This is so hot! I love this. We’ve never even had an inkling of rough play before today. I don’t want it to end.
Brad thrust hard deep inside me several times, grabbing my hips, and pulling me toward him each time, then he took a quick rest after I cummed on him. I was getting dehydrated from cumming so much. OMG, holy crap this is awesome! Eventually we both ran out of steam, and he finished strongly inside me, draining every ounce. We collapsed into a deep slumber.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows as the sun rose, signaling the start of a new day. I smiled and snuggled deeper under the covers and into Brad’s arms. It’s official, I love this man. He checks—uh licks—every single box for me. I was daydreaming. I was beaming. I thought of him and our future. I couldn’t wait to meet his kids. We’d been dating for four months now, and we were on solid ground. Everything was clicking with the two of us and the next logical step was to meet each other’s children. That time was near. Thoughts of the present and future made it damn near impossible for me to put one foot in front of the other some days. I am so deliciously distracted by this man.
Brad slowly opened his eyes and pulled me even closer, kissing my forehead and then my nose and my lips. We kissed and enjoyed the feel of each other, and we both felt the pull and desire for more. He kissed me on the forehead and said, “Be right back, gorgeous.” As he walked towards the bathroom, I smiled, “Don’t be long, handsome.”
Soon, but not nearly soon enough, he was back, sliding under the covers and gently rolling me to my back. He had one arm on either side of me and was on his elbows staring down at me. We were lost in each other’s eyes for the moment. Alternating between smiling and looking deeply into one another.
He nuzzled and kissed my neck, nibbled on my right ear lobe, then kissed me again as he slid inside me. I took him in and held him there, mine, fit to me. If his dick was his soul and my pussy my own, as I held him there our souls intertwined. Laugh if you want but if you’ve ever had your soulmate inside you, you’ll know exactly how it feels.
We gently rocked together experiencing the depth of intimacy. “Babe, you feel so good inside me. Can we stay like this forever?”
Brad laughed and whispered, “Yes, I intend to, beautiful.” After we rocked for a while, we heightened the intensity. He slid in and out faster and was getting deeper inside me. I started to moan and then I was exploding. There was a deep, visceral itch that we both needed to scratch, a connection that went deeper than any level we’d ever reached before. It was touch-the-stars animalistic heaven, a hole-in-one. Something extremely special. A rare experience. We climaxed together and fell into an exhausted and elated heap. We both fell asleep instantaneously.
Brad awoke before me and got the fire roaring while I was still sawing logs. He made a fulsome breakfast for us to enjoy. A delicious bacon scent wafting through the cabin, along with the glorious smells of eggs cooking, coffee and toast, stirred me from my sleep. My stomach rumbled, telling me to jump out of bed and devour the amazing feast. I rolled out of bed, tiptoed across the creaky floorboards, snuck up behind Brad and put my arms around him.
He whispered, “Good morning, sweetie. You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you. Feeling rested now?”
I snuggled in closer as I yawned, “Oh yes, very much so. Would you still like to go cross-country skiing today?”
Brad turned around, grinned, took me in his arms, kissed me passionately, and said, “Yes, after we have breakfast and make love again.” A shiver ran up my spine. Oh my, yes please. I kissed him back just as intently, agreeing with his suggestion, with my lips, wholeheartedly.
We enjoyed our breakfast, me wearing his shirt and he in a pair of boxers. I loved that I could inhale his scent from his shirt while eating. It was the most sensual breakfast I’d ever experienced. Is that even a thing? A sensual breakfast? Sure, why not?!
Throughout breakfast we maintained physical contact with one another. His hand on my knee, my hand on his, a quick kiss, our knees touching. Our desire for each other drove us to finish breakfast quickly so we could get back to exploring each other again. We made love deeply and passionately, taking time to explore every crack and crevice of one another, connecting on many levels as we made love.
After thoroughly enjoying each other, we bundled up, slipped our skis on and cross-country skied right from Brad’s cabin, along the stream. It was a gorgeous day for skiing. After working up a sweat, we returned to the cabin, jumped in the shower and lathered each other up, washing all our body parts. We kissed several times in the shower before the ticking clock reminded us that we needed to get on the road.
As we drove back to Calgary, I looked at Brad and smiled, “Thank you! That was a fantastic weekend. I loved every moment.”
Brad took his right hand off the steering wheel, grabbed my hand, kissed it, and said, “It was perfect.” The weekend had been out of this world, now, back to reality.