
My Lover's Cave: an erotic romance
Explicit content warning
09/15/21 • 20 min
He didn’t meet you at the airport. You were gone three months and he only sent his driver? The driver handed you a note. It just read, “I have a special place for us to meet this time.”
You thought you knew Kauai pretty well, but after the driver left town and turned down a dirt road, you were lost. He finally stopped the car and walked around to open your door.
There were no buildings–nothing, anywhere. He was dropping you off at the edge of the forest. Seeing you were worried, he said, “It’s okay. He’s here. There’s a note on a tree over there. He just wants you to follow the trails. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.”
The drivers eyes seemed to glint a little with that last comment. Or was it just your imagination?
As the car left, you headed for the tree the driver had pointed out. There was a light rain, the kind Kuaii is known for, the kind you barely notice. The droplets were so tiny. It was more like a mist.
It wasn’t the weather bothering you. He’d actually had you delivered, well, nowhere. Alone.
As you stepped into the forest, your shoulder brushed an Orchid leaf which bowed gracefully, spilling its cool water down your back. “Damn him,” you muttered to yourself. The rain softened the front of your blouse as you walked––not soaking it, just lightly nourishing it with moisture.
The first note was pinned to a tree right where the driver said it would be. You frowned, this stunt better lead me to him, and when it does, we’re going to have words.
The handwriting was quite impressive for a man. He must have taken special care with each letter.
"I'm so glad you came. Don’t be mad. I know you didn’t like being dropped off in the middle of nowhere. Be patient, you’ll like what you find. Now follow this path until it splits into three, You’ll find another note there. Come, my love. I await you.”
Some sort of bird sang a lonely song in the distance. A small brook was splashing somewhere nearby, but the forest was too thick to see it. The rain stopped and the lush green leaves all around you were steaming from the warm sunshine flooding through the trees.
Though the forest was thick, the path was clear and bathed in light. It was nothing like the forests back in Washington State. Most everything growing around you would be considered house plants back home.
You spotted the next note, tacked to a Breadfruit tree. Before you lay the three paths.
"I can hardly wait," it read. "The birds are so beautiful here, their songs fill the place. It is perfect for us. Take the path to your left. It will be a bit of a walk to the next note, but I promise all this will be worth it."
You smiled. His romantic gestures were winning you over. Somehow the forest seemed more inviting with its steamy leaves, moist ground, sunlight... and there was a man waiting for you. The thought sent a little tingle between your legs.
The note was right; it was a bit of a walk––more than a bit actually. Halfway there a parakeet leapt off a branch above you and flew away. You ducked and screamed a little too, then laughed as you realized the bird was just as startled as you were.
The trail slanted uphill making you inhale deeper as you climbed. You wondered if that wasn’t part of his plan. Perhaps he was watching you as your breasts rose with each deep breath.
Finally, you spotted another note on a large boulder, held there by a small rock.
“You’re here, my love. You’ve arrived. Look up and to your left.”
You turned and realized that just in front of you the trail opened into a broad meadow, bathed in sunlight. You stepped out into the clearing and looked up. There, not more than 50 feet away, was your man standing on a rock shelf. No shirt and cotton pants that hung much lower than they should. A thin wall of water was falling gracefully behind him into a small pool that you guessed was feeding the brook you heard earlier.
Light reflected from the sunlit meadow gave his tanned body a golden hue. He waved and nimbly stepped on three boulders and jumped to ground level. Then slipped on some loose moss and fell on his butt.
You laughed and took his hand to help him up. Well, it was really just a gesture since his muscular body was way too heavy for you to actually be of any help.
“Not exactly the entrance I was planning,” he said laughing. Taking your hand he lead you toward the waterfall. “Come, I want you to see our room.”
“Room?” you said.
He lead you on a small path taking you behind the waterfall. Now you understood. The ‘room’ was a small cave. The pond in front collected the falling water and flowed into a small stream leaving the cave dry and untouched.
“This,” he said proudly, “is our room for the evening.”
In the center of the cave, a bit to the back, he’d made a bed––a thick mattress of leaves covered in soft moss. On top was a foam covering to protect from moistu...
He didn’t meet you at the airport. You were gone three months and he only sent his driver? The driver handed you a note. It just read, “I have a special place for us to meet this time.”
You thought you knew Kauai pretty well, but after the driver left town and turned down a dirt road, you were lost. He finally stopped the car and walked around to open your door.
There were no buildings–nothing, anywhere. He was dropping you off at the edge of the forest. Seeing you were worried, he said, “It’s okay. He’s here. There’s a note on a tree over there. He just wants you to follow the trails. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.”
The drivers eyes seemed to glint a little with that last comment. Or was it just your imagination?
As the car left, you headed for the tree the driver had pointed out. There was a light rain, the kind Kuaii is known for, the kind you barely notice. The droplets were so tiny. It was more like a mist.
It wasn’t the weather bothering you. He’d actually had you delivered, well, nowhere. Alone.
As you stepped into the forest, your shoulder brushed an Orchid leaf which bowed gracefully, spilling its cool water down your back. “Damn him,” you muttered to yourself. The rain softened the front of your blouse as you walked––not soaking it, just lightly nourishing it with moisture.
The first note was pinned to a tree right where the driver said it would be. You frowned, this stunt better lead me to him, and when it does, we’re going to have words.
The handwriting was quite impressive for a man. He must have taken special care with each letter.
"I'm so glad you came. Don’t be mad. I know you didn’t like being dropped off in the middle of nowhere. Be patient, you’ll like what you find. Now follow this path until it splits into three, You’ll find another note there. Come, my love. I await you.”
Some sort of bird sang a lonely song in the distance. A small brook was splashing somewhere nearby, but the forest was too thick to see it. The rain stopped and the lush green leaves all around you were steaming from the warm sunshine flooding through the trees.
Though the forest was thick, the path was clear and bathed in light. It was nothing like the forests back in Washington State. Most everything growing around you would be considered house plants back home.
You spotted the next note, tacked to a Breadfruit tree. Before you lay the three paths.
"I can hardly wait," it read. "The birds are so beautiful here, their songs fill the place. It is perfect for us. Take the path to your left. It will be a bit of a walk to the next note, but I promise all this will be worth it."
You smiled. His romantic gestures were winning you over. Somehow the forest seemed more inviting with its steamy leaves, moist ground, sunlight... and there was a man waiting for you. The thought sent a little tingle between your legs.
The note was right; it was a bit of a walk––more than a bit actually. Halfway there a parakeet leapt off a branch above you and flew away. You ducked and screamed a little too, then laughed as you realized the bird was just as startled as you were.
The trail slanted uphill making you inhale deeper as you climbed. You wondered if that wasn’t part of his plan. Perhaps he was watching you as your breasts rose with each deep breath.
Finally, you spotted another note on a large boulder, held there by a small rock.
“You’re here, my love. You’ve arrived. Look up and to your left.”
You turned and realized that just in front of you the trail opened into a broad meadow, bathed in sunlight. You stepped out into the clearing and looked up. There, not more than 50 feet away, was your man standing on a rock shelf. No shirt and cotton pants that hung much lower than they should. A thin wall of water was falling gracefully behind him into a small pool that you guessed was feeding the brook you heard earlier.
Light reflected from the sunlit meadow gave his tanned body a golden hue. He waved and nimbly stepped on three boulders and jumped to ground level. Then slipped on some loose moss and fell on his butt.
You laughed and took his hand to help him up. Well, it was really just a gesture since his muscular body was way too heavy for you to actually be of any help.
“Not exactly the entrance I was planning,” he said laughing. Taking your hand he lead you toward the waterfall. “Come, I want you to see our room.”
“Room?” you said.
He lead you on a small path taking you behind the waterfall. Now you understood. The ‘room’ was a small cave. The pond in front collected the falling water and flowed into a small stream leaving the cave dry and untouched.
“This,” he said proudly, “is our room for the evening.”
In the center of the cave, a bit to the back, he’d made a bed––a thick mattress of leaves covered in soft moss. On top was a foam covering to protect from moistu...
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High School Reunion: an erotic romance
In this erotic romance, you meet an old High School flame who leads you on a path of passion, love, sex, and ultimately freedom from a bad marriage.
Pathways to Pleasure is an erotic romance podcast. We believe erotica should be more than just sex. Our erotic stories mix sex, really good sex, with love and romance, raising your passions in a slow burn, pulling desire from deep within you, until, at last, they climax in raw, sexual release.
Erotic romance author, James Jobe, publishes one episode each month, taking time to lovingly write stories you can escape into on your pathway to pleasure.
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The Letter: an erotic romance
My dearest friend,
I wanted to write this letter to let you know I haven’t forgotten. It’s been ten years already. Ten years since we graduated from the university and went on our separate ways, to our separate futures––ten years since that incredible night.
I’m married now, and so are you. But we weren’t then. We’d become best friends over those four years in school, close friends, studying together, taking many of the same classes, sharing our dreams and hopes for the future. But we knew our careers would soon send us on different paths.
That last day was our goodbye. We met early on campus at the bench by the pond. Do you remember? Then just like all those nights when we crammed for exams, we tried to cram our friendship into lasting memories.
We walked through the campus one last time, holding hands, pointing at the gym where we raced in the pool and you beat me by climbing on my back, keeping me from touching the edge first (cheater!). The lecture hall where old man Simmons kicked us out for talking and laughing too loud, and the fountain we poured orange dye into on Halloween. I’ll bet they’re still trying to figure out who did it.
We ate our last dinner together at Toad Hall Pizza, had our last drinks at the Castle pub, then just walked around town. We could have gone to a club or something, but we didn’t want the crowd or the load music we’d have to scream over. Being alone together was everything we needed.
I miss those days, I miss you. I know I shouldn’t be saying that. I’ve been married now for 8 years, and I love her very much. But I can't forget that night, with our uncertain futures staring us down, when we suddenly felt the need to cling to what we had. A friendship that somehow on that final night expressed itself as something more––something special.
It was midnight when I walked you to your apartment. It was time. The day was gone. Your cab would be picking you up early so you could catch your flight home.
Then, remembering that my plane was leaving only an hour after your’s I said, “Wait, I could come over tomorrow morning and we could take the same cab to the airport.”
Your face lit up. “That would be great,” you said.
Almost like magic, your eyes, moistened by the thought that this was our last night, caught a glint of the street light. My eyes were wet too. We’d been talking all day, trying to hold off that final moment of goodbye.
Something changed in us. Something we should have seen in all those study sessions and shared classes. We were more than friends, but we were stupidly just discovering that on our last night together.
We stopped talking and starred into each others eyes, trying to memorize our faces, trying to memorize that moment. I’m not sure how long we stood there. It felt like time had frozen. I reveled in the unspoken words we were sending each other. A quiet understanding filled us.
I don’t know if it was the beer, the moonlight, or that glint in your wet eyes, but suddenly it seemed like the most natural thing to kiss you. It was like we had the same thought, leaning into each other, kissing lightly, then hugging and pressing our lips harder together as if that would hold back our futures and let us stay there, together, forever.
A tear fell down your cheek. I wiped it off and said goodnight. Turning to leave, I felt your hand grab mine. Without a word you pulled me back and walked me to your door. Neither of us spoke as you slowly slid your key into the lock, and pressed the door open.
Our silence continued down the hall and into your apartment.
Once inside I tried to speak, but you put a finger over my lips and hushed me to silence. I pushed you against the wall. Our kiss was instantly passionate and deep. Our bodies pressed together. My arousal was beginning to harden. I pulled back, not wanting to rush, needing to make the night last.
I walked you to the couch. We necked like a couple of teenagers. Then, finally, like a signal going off in our heads at the same time, I reached for the buttons of your blouse and you reached for my belt.
We finally realized how starved we’d been for each other, and how hungry we suddenly were to satisfy a desire we’d allowed to boil just under the surface.
You pulled you blouse off. I stood and stepped out of my pants. Your long hair flowed around your breasts that were barely hidden behind a thin bra.
I carried you in my arms while you hugged me, kissing my neck. Standing you next to the bed, I kneeled, removing your shoes. I kissed you through your jeans, undid the button, pulled open the zipper, and tugged at the waistband, until they slipped down your legs and tumbled to the floor.
You stepped out of them. The bra fell next. There, in front of me, with only your panties hiding it was your secret place. The one kept hidden from me by our friendship all those years. That night we became more...
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