Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Slow, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Bob Long helps a woman that had hit a deer in a snow storm. He finds that she needs help with more than her car.
Bob Long pulled up in front of the cabin he and Marge had built on Mercado Lake. When he put on the brakes, the Jeep Commander station wagon slid a couple of inches on the stone driveway that led from the county road to his cabin. The driveway stretched about 3000 ft. from the road to the cabin. Bob turned off the engine and sat staring out of the windshield for several minutes. It was one of those rare moments that a man has when his mind and body become totally aware of the wonders of all life around him. A movement out of the corner of his eye brought him back to reality and he turned to see what had caught his attention. For a few seconds whatever had caught his attention eluded him. A slow movement to the left of and slightly behind the cabin revealed a raccoon making its way slowly toward the thick woods. The raccoon stopped just before entering the woods and looked back at the station wagon for a second as if to sneer at the human that had disturbed him.
Bob got out of the Jeep and walked toward the shore of the lake. The sun was just starting to head for the western edge of the lake. He figured that he still had about 2 1⁄2 hours of daylight left and that he might be able to get some work done before dark. He turned and headed for the porch. The porch faced the lake and afforded him a million dollar view. His cabin was on the far end of the lake; away from the skiers. Because of the remoteness of the location, not many people wanted to build in this area. The state had never built the wide roads needed to entice development in this end of the lake because of environmental concerns. The county road coursing through this end of the lake was a two-lane macadam road with no lights. Often the county road would be one of the last to be plowed after a snowstorm. As he sat down he heard the whirr of the wind generator high above the trees. The one hundred and twenty foot mast kept the wind generator above the tree line and caught the faintest breezes. He and Marge had kept the cabin comfortable but rustic. The wind generator kept the minimal lights going that they used when they were at the cabin and the heat trace on the water pipes. He looked out over the lake. The water was like glass, only occasionally disturbed by a fish breaking to the surface.
Mercado Lake is a man-made lake that was originally constructed for hydroelectric use by damming a mountain river. Over the years the cost of maintaining the aging electrical generating equipment had gotten prohibitive and the utility company had sold the lake to the state. The state bought the lake as a tourist attraction that the area sorely needed and the area thrived in the spring, summer and fall months. Most of the tourists shied away from this end of the lake in favor of the ski trails that had been built on the other side of lake Mercado. The nearest town to the lake is Hinley, which was about eleven miles from Bob's cabin. Hinley is an old coal-mining town that had almost gone out of existence before the lake was built. Over the past few years Hinley had been reborn as a tourist center, complete with the requisite tourist shops, restaurants and motels. The lake draws the tourists in the summer for the warm days and cool nights and in the winter the tourists flock to the slopes for the skiing. The area of the state where the cabin sits gets about 180 inches of snow a year and it often snows in late October. Many times, a light snowfall would be predicted only to become a 10 to 24-inch snowfall by morning. Weather in the mountains can be unpredictable at times.
Bob's father bought the 25 acres that the cabin sat on many years ago, before the area became a Mecca for tourists. At that time the electric company was thinking about doing away with the dam and letting the valley go back to its natural state so Bob's father was taking a chance buying the property. His father had never gotten around to doing anything to the site except to occasionally use it for camping. Bob's mother hated the mountains and the remoteness of the area. Her idea of roughing it was the Holiday Inn. After his father and mother died, Bob and Marge decided to build a weekend get-away on the site. As some projects do, the project grew in size until the cabin became a very comfortable place to spend time away from the rush of business. The driveway had been built first to allow the builder to get to the site with the building materials. Bob had purchased a small four-wheel drive tractor to help with the construction and he kept it ready in a small shed that he built for it. Almost 6 months from the start of construction, the cabin was completed and Bob and Marge began to spend almost every spring, summer and fall weekend at the cabin whenever their businesses allowed. The cabin became their private retreat. They rarely invited others to their retreat.
A local contractor who specialized in log homes had built the cabin. The log cabin was 45 feet by 50 ft. It consisted of one large room with sleeping lofts at each end of the cabin. Bob had insisted on having the cabin well insulated; a rarity in log cabins. A large energy-efficient wood stove provided heat on the cool nights. Even on the few winter nights that Bob and Marge had spent at the cabin, the wood stove did an adequate job of heating the cabin. Bob paid one of the locals to deliver and stack 3 cords of oak and hickory each fall. Marge, being an interior decorator, had taken over the job of decorating the cabin. The furnishings were rustic, but at the same time elegant.
Bob used his technical expertise to make the remote site livable. He had a wind generator installed and a stove, refrigerator and freezer; all of the appliances operated by propane. A propane fueled generator charged the batteries when the wind generator needed a little help. His computer was set up in one corner of the great room and, as soon as Internet phones were perfected he had one installed on his computer. He accessed the Internet with his satellite phone. Often, he and Marge would spend their weekends at the cabin working on their respective businesses. Bob had always thought that they had the perfect life.
A gust of wind hit him, shaking him from his reverie, and he felt the chill of the night air starting to come off of the lake. The late fall weather in the mountains could be right chilly and snowfalls this time of year were not unheard of. He looked out over the lake, enjoying the solitude. He smelled the smoke before he saw it. As he scanned the tops of the trees, he saw a lazy whiff of smoke heading skyward. Bob knew that the smoke was coming from one of the cabins or condos at the upper end of the lake, close to the county roads. He and Marge had called it the "yuppie" end of the lake. He fished in his pocket for his keys and walked to the door. The cabin had that "closed-in" smell so he left the door open to air out the cabin. He walked to the front of the great room and opened the window to get some cross-ventilation.
Several trips to the outside shed which protected his wood supply, to bring in firewood, ensured that he had enough firewood in the rack for about 24 hours. He threw a few logs in the wood stove over top of some kindling and fat wood and started the fire. He left the air vents open all of the way to get the fire going. It would take a while before the wood stove really started to warm the air in the cabin. The heavy steel of the wood stove and the firebrick liner had to be heated before the stove began to heat the air in the room. When he began to feel the heat radiating from the wood stove he closed the door and window. After two trips to the Jeep to bring in his clothes, food and the work that he brought with him from the office he could feel the wood stove beginning to warm the air in the cabin. He set the box that held the work from the office on his desk.
"Damn," Bob said to himself as he carried his briefcase into the area that he used as an office, "I forgot. I used the last of the paper for the printer the last time I was up here."
He checked his watch. He still had plenty of time to get to the small stationary store in Hinley; he wanted to get something to eat at the diner anyway. He needed that paper this weekend. He mentally berated himself for forgetting the paper. Bob Long was much harder on himself than anyone else would have been. It was his years of training in the Navy Seals that made him so hard on himself. Bob Long expected... no... demanded that Bob Long be the perfect human being.
Bob Long had joined the Navy right out of college. He had joined the Navy ROTC in college for the financial benefits but he quickly found out that he loved the military life. He had always been athletic and the Navy noticed him right away and suggested that he apply for the Navy Seals. Bob took to the program like a duck to water and soon rose to the rank of 1st Lieutenant. He went on many missions for the Seal Team and eventually became an instructor. The Navy sent him back to school often to upgrade his skills. Thanks to the Navy he got his Master's degree on the Navy's dime.
Bob met Marge at a party being given by some friends. They hit it off right away and spent the night in a corner talking. They were among the last ones to leave the party. Within 4 months they got married. Marge started an interior decorating business right out of college and, after several lean months, the business started to take off. They were both extremely happy except when Bob had to be away on a mission. Marge couldn't put up with him going to the base in the morning and him not coming home for weeks and she never knowing if he was alive or dead. After 5 years Marge gave him an ultimatum-it was either she or the Navy. Bob resigned his commission. They decided to wait to start a family until after Bob got settled into civilian life and got his feet on the ground.
He bounced around for about eight years at one job after another. Marge, with her interior decorating business, was the main breadwinner in the family during that period. A friend of theirs gave him the idea of using his Seal training to open a company to provide security for companies and company executives. Marge encouraged him to try it and soon Paladin Security Sources, Inc. was a reality. Bob started the company about five years before 9/11. Soon the company grew to where the company was providing security for CEO's and royalty, training security guards for energy companies and nuclear facilities and advising Special Forces groups for foreign countries. With their Virginia home so close to Washington, D.C. his company had the high visibility that it needed to land the security contracts with the Defense Department. They decided to wait to start a family until after Bob's business got off the ground. After both businesses took off there never seemed to be enough time for a family. Bob eventually began to take on high tech security device sales and armored car sales. The security business grew steadily as the political climate grew shakier and shakier. After 9/11 the business really took off. Many companies that had never really considered security now demanded the best security money could buy. Energy companies worried about their refineries and pipelines, electric companies wanted protection for their power generation facilities and power grids and CEO's and celebrities wanted 24-hour security. The increased business meant more travel and more time away from home.
Marge's business took off about the same time. The quality of her clients grew. She was being called on more and more by Hollywood celebrities and Fortune 100 executives to design their homes and offices. Her travel increased and it was often weeks and occasionally months that Bob and Marge were apart. Marge bought a place in the Los Angeles hills because of the large volume of business she was getting from Hollywood celebrities and spent about 20 percent of her life there. Bob only saw the house in California one time. Marge's reputation grew and she became known in Europe as well as the States. The growing volume of European contracts forced her to open a London office to service the European market and she hired a well-known British interior designer to run it for a salary and a piece of the company.
Bob should have seen it coming. Their times together became less frequent and they co-existed more like college roommates than husband and wife. They made love less and less and when they did, it didn't have the old spark. Often Marge would leave him a note in the morning saying that she would be working on the west coast for a few weeks and that she would see him when she got home. Each time that he decided to try and talk to her and try to spend some quality time with her a crisis would break out somewhere in the world and he would have to fly to some foreign country to solve the problem.
One day an assignment on the west coast popped up suddenly and he flew to Seattle to talk to the client. A major defense contractor wanted the company to take over the total security of their installations around the world and the security of the company's executives. In two weeks the deal was signed and he started for home. On the way to the airport he thought about surprising Marge at her Los Angeles office. When he called to let her know that he was on the way, her secretary told him that Marge was out of the office. Bob left his cell phone number, although he knew that Marge had it, and asked the secretary to have Marge call him. After he landed in Los Angeles Bob called Marge's office again and was told that she hadn't checked in yet and they would tell her that he called. Marge still hadn't returned his calls by 9 P.M. so he checked into a hotel. He had never asked for a key to her house out on the west coast; it just never came up.
The next morning Bob went to her office to see if she could take a few days off so that they could spend some time together. After he identified himself to the secretary, it was obvious that the young woman was uneasy that he was there. He began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. He pressured the secretary to tell him where Marge was but she would only tell him that Marge was with a client. The secretary assured him that she would have Marge return his calls when she checked in.
Bob left the office and decided to call an old client and invite him to lunch. It had been a while since the client had given his company any business and Bob wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong and make sure that the client's needs were being taken care of. The client agreed to meet him at one of the better restaurants in Los Angeles and told Bob that he was glad that he called because he wanted Bob to do some security work for one of their new foreign subsidiaries.
The client arrived at the restaurant shortly after Bob parked his rental car. They talked for a few minutes in the parking lot and then walked into the restaurant. The restaurant was large and had several small private dining areas for celebrities and business executives that wanted to have a working lunch or dinner. The client opted to eat in the main dining room and they were seated quickly. The lunch menu was brought to them and Bob's client made a menu suggestion that seemed right to Bob and he ordered the same. They ate lunch and discussed the general outline of what the client needed. Bob asked pointed questions to try and determine the budget without actually discussing money. Just after they had finished dessert, the client's cell phone rang and after a short discussion on the phone he told Bob that he had to get back to the office to fight a minor crisis that had developed. Bob grabbed the check and told his client that he would take care of the bill. The man stood up and told Bob that he had to get back to the office and thanked him for the lunch. He excused himself and left for the office. Bob put his credit card in the check folder and waited for the waitress to collect the credit card and bring it back for his signature. After the check was brought back for him to sign, he filled in the amount of the tip, signed it and took his receipt. He stood up to make his way to the door. It had been a very productive meeting; the new business would be very lucrative.
As he turned toward the door he noticed a couple coming out of one of the private dining rooms. Marge had her arm in the arm of a well-dressed man and seemed to have eyes for him only. She casually looked over the restaurant and her gaze settled on Bob. For a second the blood drained from her face. She leaned over and said something to the man that she was with and then headed toward Bob. Bob stood up as she approached his table and she took Bob's arm and started to lead him out of the restaurant. Bob kept quiet until they were in the parking lot.
"What's going on Marge? I've been calling your office and they keep giving me the run-around. Who is that guy you're with?"
Marge reached into her pocket book and fished out a key, "Take the key for the house. I'll meet you there in about an hour."
"Again Marge, what's going on?"
"We'll talk about it at home. Please Bob, meet me at the house so we can talk."
Marge turned before he had a chance to answer and walked toward the man waiting for her at the door of the restaurant. She took his arm and they walked toward a limousine that was waiting for them. As the limousine pulled out of the parking lot, Marge turned and looked back at him and quickly turned away.
Bob got in the rental car and stared out of the windshield for a minute before putting his head on the steering wheel. He closed his eyes as tight as he could to try and keep out what he knew in his heart was happening. After several minutes he raised his head and started the car. He tried to remember where the house that Marge had bought was. It suddenly dawned on him that his not knowing how to get to her west coast house was a good indicator of problems in his marriage. He started out of the parking lot and headed in the direction Marge's house. He had to stop twice to get directions. He got to the house about an hour and fifteen minutes after leaving the restaurant. Marge wasn't there yet.
Bob let himself into the house with the keys that Marge had pressed into his hand at the restaurant. As he looked around he saw why Marge was so successful. The house was a showplace. All of the furnishings were first class. He sat down on the sofa to wait for Marge to come home. He waited for over 2 hours before she pulled into the driveway.
She walked into the house and walked over to him, stood behind him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder, "What are you doing in Los Angeles?"
Bob turned his head and looked at her for a moment before answering, "What's going on Marge? I've been calling your office and they keep telling me you're with a client. When I showed up at your office this morning, you'd have thought that I had the plague. Who is the guy you were with in the restaurant?"
"His name is Roger. I've known him about 2 years. Bob, I was going to talk to you when I got back home. I..."
"You both looked right chummy in the restaurant. You're more than just friends, right?"
"Bob, let me talk and I'll explain everything."
"Go on," he snorted, "I'm dying to hear this."
"Roger and I met when I did his office for his company. He's the CEO of one of the largest companies on the west coast. I don't know how we became more than just friends, it just happened. Bob, you know as well as I do that we've grown apart. We haven't had a real marriage for several years now. No, we aren't at each other's throats, but we don't have much in common anymore. With Roger I feel alive. We do things together and he's very good to me. He has been very good for my business too. I can thank him for much of the business that I've gotten on the west coast and in Europe too."
"He's older than you, isn't he?"
"Yes, he's eight years older than me," she replied, "But we love each other. His wife died 3 years ago. We want to be married."
Bob felt like a cinder block had just hit him in the chest. It suddenly dawned on him that they were talking about the end of their marriage.
"You're telling me that you want a divorce?"
"Please Bob. You know as well as I do that it's over. We both have a chance for some happiness; let's grab it. I don't want to take anything except my business and the house out here. Roger's wealthy in his own right. We'd like to get married as soon as possible."
Bob looked into Marge's eyes and saw what he didn't want to see; that it was really over and that it would be senseless to try and talk her out of it. Marge's face had the glow of a woman in love; but not a woman in love with Bob Long. Suddenly he saw all of the missed opportunities that he had passed up that would have made his marriage work. He felt that he had failed in life. He realized that his priorities of the past several years were not really what he wanted out of life.
He looked into Marge's face for several minutes. Here was the woman that had once been the love of his life, his best friend, the woman that worshiped the ground that he walked on. He felt very empty inside, like his soul had died. He fought back the tears. He stood up. He had to get out of here before he started crying.
"Are you sure that this is what you want?"
Marge looked down at her hands, "Yes, this is what I want. I'm sorry to do this like this but I guess that there's really no easy way to do it."
Bob headed for the door. Marge got up and put her arms around him, crying.
"Marge, I wish you the best in life. I won't stand in your way of happiness. Have your lawyer get in touch with me and I'll do whatever you want. I'm sorry that I failed you."
Marge hugged him tightly until he pulled away and walked out of the door. He started the car and pointed it toward the airport.
Bob didn't remember too much about the trip back to Virginia. He booked his flight and headed for the airport lounge. He sat in the lounge getting drunk and watched his flight take off without him. He watched his second flight take off too. The airline sent someone to take him to the plane so that he would not miss his third flight.
In the 3 years since the divorce became final he threw himself into his work. He hadn't had a vacation or day off since the divorce. The business was growing each month and his reputation was growing with it. He had employees all over the world. The only thing lacking in his life was a social life.
A week before he had come to the cabin, a large defense contractor had approached him with an offer to purchase the company. It was much too good an offer to turn down, besides there was just no reason to keep pushing himself the way he had in the past. Since the divorce became final the fire was gone out of him. After the sale, he would never have to work again if he didn't want to. They had asked him to stay on as an employee and run the United States part of the business. If he took the deal, which he felt he would, it meant very little travel and a lot fewer headaches. He wasn't sure how he would make out in the big corporate world but he just might try it and see if he liked it.
Bob made sure that the wood stove was going good and that it was safe to leave the cabin. He went to his car for the trip to town to pick up the paper for the computer's printer from the stationary store in Hinley. A few snowflakes started to fall as he left his driveway and headed toward Hinley. As he turned out of his driveway and headed toward Hinley the snow started to fall a little harder.