Gender: N/A Age: N/A Location: N/A
My beautiful wife Cindy and I’ve been married for almost three wonderful years now, and still going strong. Last summer we had planned a little getaway with our best friends Jason and Stef. We've known these two since we started dating almost six years ago back in our college days, and we try and get together with them as much as possible. A four day camping excursion for the long weekend seemed the perfect plan. We’d never done something like that before and wanted to do something special. Neither Cindy nor I had any idea just how special our trip would be!
We drove out to Mt. Hights, a nice, full-facility campsite just south of Rhode Island. Cindy and I arrived quite early in the morning so we could get a good site. We pitched our tent and assembled our gear, the novelty of it all making the work pleasant. In no time we finished our preparations, leaving us with a lot of idle time. Quality time, as it turned out.
"Let’s go for a walk in the woods," I whispered to my wife, nuzzling my face against her smooth cheek. My fingers twined through her curly red hair. My other hand had slipped down to her crotch. I massaged her pussy through her loose walking shorts. Underneath I could feel her bikini-style briefs. I made up my mind to undress her right there and then.
Cindy had other ideas.
"Not now Mark," she giggled, pushing me away. Her playful shove didn’t deter me in the slightest. I grabbed Cindy by her slight, toned asscheeks and pulled her roughly to me, kneading her taut backside while I drank her sweet nectar from her lips. The wilderness suited her. she tasted as sweet as a mountain spring. She responded to me favorably, her arms snaking around my back as she returned the heated kiss.
"Slow down, cowboy. Time to take a walk." Cindy broke our kiss and slid a tiny hand into my shorts. She grabbed me by the cock, then turned around and started walking. I had two choices, remain behind and be emasculated or follow her into the bush. It wasn’t the bush I wanted to enter at this moment, but I’d take what I could get. Cindy always led me around by the dick, though never before in such a literal fashion. My pixyish wife barely came mid-chest on me. Her diminutive frame always made me feel protective of her and compliant to her wishes. I could deny her nothing, a fact that she often used to her advantage.
"We going to get back to nature or what?" I asked her, amused by her little stunt. My cock pulsed in her satiny grip.
"Maybe later. Right now, we’re going out to get some exercise." Cindy increased her pace, forcing me to move faster if I wanted to keep my equipment attached to my groin. As much as I liked Jason and Stef, I almost wished that they wouldn’t show. I thoroughly enjoyed my time alone with my sexy, playful wife.
I’d soon find out that not only Cindy had come to Mt. Hights ready to play.
It wasn’t until early afternoon that we returned to the campsite, me walking unsteadily after two ball-emptying orgasms and my wife licking my cum off of her slim, pale hands daintily like a cat preening itself after feeding. She’d refused to let me fuck her though, saying that she had to keep something back for later. But with her hot mouth available to me I hadn’t felt cheated.
While we had been busy Jason and Stef had finally arrived, setting up their gear next to ours. Not only that, but Stef had something delicious already grilling on the portable hibachi.
"Damn, but that sure smells good!" I said, nose whiffing the air like a hound. My belly grumbled, reminding me that a bowl of cereal and a banana couldn’t keep a man of my stature content for long. Not when I saw burgers and all-beef franks sizzling on the grill!
"Something looks good to me, too," Stef said, staring directly at my crotch. Two blowjobs or not, the smell of food cooking had gotten my cock slightly stiff again. My rod made a definite bulge in my pants. "I’ll fix you a burger. You got sausage already." Stef winked at me. Stef was everything Cindy wasn’t; buxom, tall and ample sized. Her olive complexion and dark hair gave her an exotic, Mediterranean look I found absolutely enchanting. When I thought of Stef I thought of Greece and Greek both. That ass of hers was a perfectly rounded example of what a woman’s ass should look like.
A frigid deluge of icy water from Jason’s cooler chest sluiced over the crouching Stef, pasting her thin white halter top to her skin. In an instant the woman had turned topless, her halter now as clear as a diamond of the first water. She squealed from cold shock and the effects the water had on her breasts. Her nipples lunged out, creating little tents on her sizeable mounds. Jason ignored his cursing, sputtering wife and walked over to us, handing me a Bud. He quickly brushed his lips against Cindy’s. "Hi kids, sorry we’re late."
"Hi Jas," Cindy said, walking past him to greet the fuming, sodden Stef. She greeted Cindy warmly, kissing her on each of her cheeks while simultaneously glaring at Jason and me as if I’d become an asshole by association.
"What kept you guys, man? Cindy and I were starting to worry."
"You know, the usual. We left late, had to stop three times so she could use the can, then I just had to bugger that sweet ass of hers on the way up." He said that without missing a beat. Open, straightforward, and lacking any measure of tact. Either you loved the guy or hated his guts. Sometimes I felt that if it wasn’t for Stef we wouldn’t be as close as we were. I think he thought so, too. He never visited Cindy and me without having Stef in tow.
"You two clowns done talking? Come and finish cooking. I’m going to change. Come on, Cinds." Stef crawled into her tent, Cindy following close behind her. Angry mutters came from the tent, ‘assholes,’ ‘jerks’ and ‘clowns’ the only words we could make out from amongst the low level noise. Of course, those were the only words our women wanted us to hear.
"Glad you could make it," I said, raising my beer in salute.
"Hope you two made it before we showed," he said, clinking my bottle with his Coors. "Cindy’s got a tight bod that just begs to be slam-fucked." Couldn’t agree with him more on that point, but it did bother me that he always said things like that. Sure I lusted after his wife, but I’d never dream of doing anything about it. Besides being immoral I truly loved Cindy. Why cheat when you had everything you ever wanted in your wife?
Stef had a world class ass, though. No question.
"Pay up Mark, my oh-so-cute pigeon," Stef cooed. I quickly counted the chips and paid her the thirteen dollars I owed her. She chortled with sadistic glee as she scooped up my money, counting it again as if I’d short her. I had thought about it, but where could I run to way out here?
Cindy and Jason had stopped playing poker hours ago, instead chatting quietly amongst themselves. Stef, card-shark extraordinaire, refused to give up, cajoling me to agree to keep playing with her. When that had failed she played on my sympathy, calling me a heartless brute for abandoning the gimp. Stef had badly sprained her ankle on our afternoon hike and had to be carried for over two hours. Bad enough, right? Well, we’d planned to hike for most of the evening. Her condition now made that impossible. Instead we’d been coerced into playing cards with her. Stef always had her poker set with her, dual decks, chips and scorecards perpetually ready. The cynic in me almost believed that she’d purposely twisted her ankle to skip out on the hiking. Stef wasn’t fat, but a plump ass and generous set of tits like hers needed careful maintenance.
"I’m done here. Cindy, let’s go."
"Yup. Lost all the money tonight I’m going to. I’m jetting."
"Is that what’s making you leave?" Stef said. "Here." She counted out fifty bucks and pushed it into my hand, closing my fingers around it. She gazed at me with her black, bottomless eyes. "Now will you play with me?"
"Sure will," I said, settling back down. Satisfied, Stef reshuffled the deck and began to deal the next round’s cards.
"What did I just see?" Jason asked, incredulity larding his voice.
"I gave him back his money so he’d continue playing."
"You never give back money," Jason grumbled. I detected a definite edge in his voice.
"It’s not Mark’s money I want," Stef said. She continued to deal the cards, steadfastly ignoring Jason’s and Cindy’s looks. Jason stared at us for a couple more seconds before resuming his chat with Cindy.
I continued to lose. As much as I tried to keep my eyes fastened upon my cards they inexorably returned to Stef’s dark, olive complexioned face. Each time, I found her gentle, guileless eyes already upon me. Before long I’d lost my stake again. This time Jason suggested that Cindy and I leave. Truth be told, I’d been eager to get the hell out of there for awhile. Tension threatened to shred the nylon walls of the tent. Cindy scuttled out of the tent first. Just as I turned to follow her I felt a soft hand stroke my back. "Goodnight, my pigeon," Stef breathed. Her pouty, full lips brushed against my cheek, barely grazing the skin. My cock instantly hardened.
"Goodnight, Stef," I replied as I took my leave. I avoided Jason’s gaze, knowing that his wife’s actions had pissed him off. She’d never touched me in such a fashion, not in all the years we’d known each other. Jason kissing my wife on the lips was an old, accepted habit. Obviously he felt this to be something else altogether. Neither one of us knew what to make of it.
Cindy and I awoke to awful howling. Feral snarls and agonized, Banshee-like wailing and shrieks pierced our eardrums. Cindy’s wide, fear-filled eyes consumed most of her face, but I stayed calm. She hadn’t lived in a dorm with Jason through college. I’d heard those noises before. Jason always seemed to find the screamers. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
"Mark! How can you sleep with that going on? What’s making that awful sound?
"That’s Jas working out some frustration. Ignore it."
"Working out his frustrations on what?"
"Stef’s ass, I’d say,"
Cindy remained quiet, but didn’t immediately lie back down. Fear still filled her eyes. She needed distracting almost as much as I did. "Forget about them. Worry about me." I reached for Cindy’s head and pulled it down upon me. She fastened her lips upon my throbbing cock, her tiny, bright teeth nibbling gently around its purpling head as her tongue swathed it. I wasn’t in the mood for gentle cocksucking so I insinuated my fingers in her curly red hair, getting a firm grip as I bucked my hips sharply upwards. I jammed my turgid meat into her throat. She gagged momentarily, surprised by the move, but she soon found her rhythm. I slam-fucked her face, my thrusting hips whacking my loose nuts against her chin. Her tight, grasping throat mashed my hard cock in its molten sheath. Drool spilled over my balls and crotch as I took her mouth, the saliva-lubricated shaft slicing easily in and out of her throat.
Cindy’s magnificent cocksucking technique knew no equal, but tonight it wasn’t the thing that stirred me. As I blasted spurt after spurt of blazing molten jism down my wife’s throat my mind filled with visions of tanned, creamy asscheeks impaled by a fat cock, and the pleasures to be found within. I came not in a tight, squeezing throat but a vicelike sheath of red-walled, horribly traumatized rectal tissue. Cindy’s hot, pointed tongue cleaned up my cock and balls, lapping up any sperm that might have escaped from her swallowing throat.
Afterwards, she lowered herself to me, holding me tightly as we tried to drift off to sleep. "Love you," she whispered before sleep overcame her.
"Love you," I replied, stroking her head. I looked down upon my beautiful, accommodating wife. I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep. Images of black, liquid eyes and clenching, puckered knots of dark sphincter muscle ensured that sleep took it’s time to arrive.
Jason came by early the next morning to ask me to go to the camp commissary with him. I threw a stale pair of underwear at him in reply, then rolled over and tightly hugged my pillow. If I wanted to wake up at 6:30 I would’ve stayed home. Poor sleep and overwhelming guilt kept me in bed. I didn’t want to be around Jason right now, not after fantasizing about his wife for three quarters of the night. Cindy came to my rescue, offering to go with him. That was okay by me. She dressed quickly and left the tent. I went back to sleep.
Minutes later the tent flap opened again. "Forget something, babe?" I called out. "My wallet’s in my fleece pullover. Help yourself."
"I’ll wait until tonight to take your money, pigeon." I pulled away the pillow-shield I’d been using to keep the odious sun off of my face. Stef knelt in front of me with eyes submissively downcast. "I’m here to ask you for a favor."
"Shoot," I said, trying my damnedest to focus on her face and not the full, dark-areolaed breasts that strained against her rather thin, translucent sea-green halter top. Her Body Alive compression shorts hugged her form like a second skin.
"I need to take a shower. Can you help me? Jason’s gone and I need help getting there."
"Can’t you wait until he gets back?"
"Mark, I really need to use the facilities," she said. I took her meaning.
I pulled on my sweats and exited the tent, picking Stef up easily and carrying her over my shoulder, ass up and forward facing, down to the facilities. I kept my hand upon the small of her back no matter how much I wanted to fondle her ass. Her massive tits ground deliciously against my back as we bounced along the dirt track. She didn’t speak the entire trek down, and neither did I.
"Um, I have another favor to ask of you," she said, trepidation thick in her voice. We’d arrived at the door to the women’s facilities. "I need some help getting undressed and into the shower."
"Why? You have a sprained ankle, not broken fingers. What’s up?"
"Please, Mark! I couldn’t ask anyone else for this but you."
I didn’t understand the whys of the situation, but I sensed her desperation. I grabbed hold of her waist and aided her as best as I could. She leaned heavily against me, her left ankle all but useless. She stumbled suddenly, her body lurching into mine. I shifted my grip in order to catch her, my hand grasping her buttocks. She hissed in pain.
"Shit! Sorry Stef," I said, embarrassment coloring my cheeks. Then I noticed her tear-filled eyes. "Stefanie? Are you okay?" I took the time to carefully examine her, noting for the first time the bruises on her arms and legs, the chafed wrists and other signs of struggle. "Stefanie?"
"I’m okay, Mark. I bruise easily is all. I just need a bath."
"Okay Stef. No more questions." Not for her, anyways. My clenching guts told me that Jason and I’d have words soon, though.
I hustled her into the women’s washroom and helped her into a shower stall. I was turning to leave when she stopped me with a hand gently placed upon my shoulder. "Mark? I don’t bathe in my clothes."
"Me neither," I replied. A fucking stupid response to a situation I’d no reason being in.
"Help me get out of my things, pigeon. Don’t fly away so soon."
A million things flitted through my mind, dozens of witty responses selected and discarded faster than I could follow. Before I could decide on the perfect repartee I noticed that my hands had already decided on the proper course of action. They helped her out of her things. Her halter slid off of her voluptuous frame, the lacy green cloth a feathery mass in my hand. I carefully folded it and put it on the corner, wall mounted shelf. Next, I knelt before her and unzipped the rear of her emerald compression shorts. Olive skin appeared between the green parting cloth. I rolled them down her long, fleshy thighs, allowing her to brace herself against my broad shoulders as I shucked her of her pants. She stood before me in her underwear, a lacy black three-quarter cup bra that barely concealed her nipples, and matching thong briefs that vanished between the firm, round asscheeks. Anger lanced through me as I spied the dark, mottled blemishes that marred the perfect, bronzed skin of her ass. Without thinking, my fingers traced the outlines of the vicious-looking bruises.
"What are you thinking?" Stef whispered.
"That Jason and I need to have little talk," I replied, the vehemence in my voice surprising me. Why should I care what this man did to his wife? But Perdition’s Flames burn me, I cared a great deal. "Being married doesn’t give him the right to hurt you."
"You hurt me more than Jason ever has," she countered. "I can handle an ass pounding, but what you did kills me."
She might as well’ve been speaking Greek. Color me dim, but I couldn’t fathom her meaning. "Me hurt you? How?"
"You married her!" The accusation came out with such angst that I couldn’t ignore it. "You knew how I felt about you, but you married her!"
I stood before her completely dumbfounded. Stef loved me? I had no fucking idea, not back then and certainly not now. I still remember the day Cindy and her hit on Jas and I over at the pool parlor. Cindy had been the shy one, sending Stef out to do her bidding. Three pitchers of Bud and a dozen highballs later we had split up into the couples we remained today. That first hotel room fuck had cemented Cindy’s place in my heart and in my life. I had never stopped to consider the other possibility. "Stef? Answer this truthfully. When you came over and introduced yourself to us who was it that Cindy wanted to date?"
Stef’s downcast eyes gave me the answer. I’d been Cindy’s consolation prize. That shouldn’t change anything, should it? I loved my wife. We had three years of happy marriage behind us.
But for the first time I doubted her love for me.
"Pigeon? Is everything okay?"
Was everything okay? I didn’t know. Were Jason’s kisses just brotherly shows of affection? Were his jokes just that? Did Cindy keep me around simply to be near him? So many thoughts whipped through my head that it hurt. I clenched my eyes shut, my hand pinching the bridge of my nose. "Mark?" Concern filled Stef’s voice, genuine worry over my well being. She stroked my back reassuringly. I raised my head and looked deeply into her eyes, seeing my own confused face mirrored there.
"Take off your bra, Stefanie. Slowly." The cold voice sounded foreign in my ears. I knew it belonged to me only because I felt my mouth move. Her hands glided over her huge breasts, working the small golden clasp that lay nestled between the round globes that perched on her chest. The clip sprang open. She held the two halves of her bra closed, waiting for my command. "Move the cups apart, Stefanie. Show me your breasts."
She revealed her tits to me, the coppery red areolas capped by thick, walnut coloured nipples that crinkled prettily as they hardened under my scrutiny. Her pendulous breasts looked firm, so massive yet extremely shapely and self supporting. The opened brassiere hung at the sides of her breasts, temporarily forgotten. I brushed the garment off of her shoulders, stroking her arms all the way down to her wrists before letting the garment fall to the tiled floor. Her long arms trembled as if my fingertips’ contact hurt her. I collected the black bra and folded it, placing it on top of the halter.
Without asking she’d slid her thumbs beneath her waistband, pushing the thong down her generous hips. I halted her with a curt shake of my head. "Leave them on, Stefanie. They won’t be in my way." She nodded her head in acquiescence. She waited, breasts heaving and eyes glassy.
"Well what?" she whispered."
"I don’t bathe with my clothes on either. Take care of them."
A glorious smile split her dark face as she reached out towards me, quickly relieving me of my sweatshirt, track pants, shoes and socks. I didn’t wear underwear so that was one less piece of clothing to contend with. I stood before her totally nude, allowing her to drink in the sight of me. "Do I pass inspection, Stefanie?"
"Oh yes," she said as she tried to embrace me. I checked her maneuver by placing my hands on her breasts, grasping the thick nipples firmly between index and middle fingers and raking my thumbnails across the stiffened nubs. She hissed in shock.
"Still sensitive from last night, Stefanie?" I asked. She hated her full name and always insisted on people using the short form of it. The fact that she hadn’t corrected me yet told me a lot about her state of mind.
She didn’t answer, instead closing her eyes and allowing me to torment her nipples. They were already the thickness of my little finger and as long as its first joint. They continued to thicken under my ministrations. When I dug my thumbnails in her eyes shot open. "On your knees, Stefanie. Kneel for me." She descended to her knees with the grace and facility long practice gives. Being married to Jason, that made sense. I knew how that guy operated. I paced around her, examining her lush body from all angles. I couldn’t believe that I possessed a goddess and had her before me on her knees, willing to do my bidding! More unbelievable still was that my traitorous cock wasn’t hard at all.
Last night I’d lusted for Stef. Today, I only wanted my wife. What did Cindy really feel for me?
It didn’t matter right now. Cindy was with Jason. Stef was right in front of me.
Mine to do with as I pleased.
I crouched behind her and undid the tensor bandage on her ankle. We had only the one, and couldn’t afford to get it wet. I carefully folded it up and placed it with the rest of our clothes. I quickly returned to my immobile plaything, positioning myself on my knees behind her. I grabbed a breast in each hand, teasing the nipples and areolas with rough tweaks and pinches. She gritted her teeth, stoically bearing my tit-mauling. I slid a hand down her front and into her panties, curving two fingers up inside of her. I frigged her pussy hard and quick, frothing her up like a whisk did fresh whipping cream. Her taut, plushy asscheeks jammed back against my flaccid cock.
I abruptly pulled my hand out of her and stood up, leaving her kneeling and bewildered. I looked down upon my raven-haired temptress. I’ve known her for so long, yet now I realized that I’ve never really known her at all. "Pigeon?" she said in a tiny voice.
"Bath time Stefanie. Stay as you are.”
I opened up the faucet and allowed the frigid blast to wash over us. The cold water made my cock shrivel up and hide. I tried the hot water knob but only succeeded in increasing the water’s pressure, not its temperature. Stef’s teeth chattered but she didn’t move from her kneeling posture. Fuck! Jason had her well trained. I’d have to create my own heat with Stef before we both froze to death.
"Let me serve you," she said over the water’s roar.
"Negative, " I said. Before the hurt could enter her eyes I added, "You’re the injured party. I’ll wash you first." A relieved grin blossomed on her face as I again positioned myself behind her, this time with a sponge and soap. I briefly considered exchanging spots with her so she’d get hit with most of the cold water, then ditched the pansy-assed thought.
But fuck that water was cold!
I lathered her up and scrubbed her trembling body with soft strokes, working as swiftly as I could so we could get the hell out of that arctic deluge. I forced myself to slow down as I reached her crotch, pulling the buried thong out from between her asscheeks and pussy lips long enough to scrub her down. I used my soap-slickened fingers to ream out both of her orifices. Amazingly, she didn’t work herself against my probing fingers like I’d expected her to. Her deep, constant moans told me she relished the sensations, though.
"Aren’t you going to fuck me?" she panted. "I want your cock inside of me."
"In cunt or ass?" I asked her. I lowered my mouth to her ear and nipped at her earlobe. "Where did Jason plug you last night?"
"He fucked both of my holes."
"Then I’ll have to find me another hole to fill," I said. I realized that I wasn’t kidding. I didn’t want my cock contacting any of that bastard’s sperm. Thank god Jason was one of those weird fuckers who didn’t like receiving head. I was certain that he hadn’t blown a wad in Stef’s mouth last night.
I roughly spun her around so that she faced me, her eyes shining with ill-concealed joy. I grabbed the left side of her head and snapped it back. Her mouth opened wide to accept me. I drew her head forward by her captured hair, allowing only the tip of my cock to enter her mouth. She suckled upon it like an infant did its mother’s teat. I withdrew from her sucking, greedy mouth. She stuck out her tongue, trying to maintain contact with my throbbing shaft. I kept her head still while I grasped my cock with my right hand, gripping it tightly behind the balls. At long last it had hardened to iron-stiffness.
"You want some of this?" I asked her. I jiggled my cock for emphasis, the head glancing against the waggling tip of her obscenely outstretched tongue.
"What is it you want?"
"Your cock," she sighed.
"Where do you want it? Tell me. Tell me where and how."
"I want your meat stuffed down my throat. Give it to me, Mark. Fuck my face, baby."
Baby? She’d never called me that before! I guess she was as ready as she’d ever be. I changed my grip and grasped her around her swanlike neck with my thumbs upon her throat. I loved feeling my cock slide in and out of a woman’s gullet. Feeling my cockhead push past my thumb excited me. Slowly, inexorably, I fed hard inches into Stef’s eagerly waiting face, pushing gently as inch after inch of hard cock slid over her trembling tongue and down her throat. My cock was well on its journey to Happy Land when the stream of water sputtered, then died out.
The dying shower broke the trance I’d been in. I came to my senses with my best friend’s wife naked and on her knees, head thrown back with my cock buried bollocks-deep inside of her throat. As pleasurable as it felt the guilt ruined the experience for me. I unceremoniously pulled out of her.
"Get dressed. I’ll be outside." I retrieved my clothes from the other side of the shower stall, nearly bowling over some old woman in a baggy sundress and Birkenstocks who’d come in after us. She gave me lewd wink as I brushed past her, bare assed and cock swinging, on my way out.
Stef met me outside; dry, dressed and unashamed. That was okay. I felt enough shame for both of us. Without a word I hefted her up over my shoulder and made my way back up the trail towards our campsite.
My steadying hand massaged her sizeable, delectable ass the entire way. My cock had been down her throat, after all. I no longer had a convincing reason to deny myself the pleasure.
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