A Camping Getaway

It was one of those vacation plans a long time in coming. Dave and Becky were our best friends, but since moving a few hours away, we'd not seen them much. We agreed that we'd have to find a fun way to get together, and the idea of camping, which we hadn't done in years, appealed to everybody. A weekend was set, a campsite was booked, and Kristin, my wife of six years, had set about getting us things like a new flashlight, an inflatable mattress, and several items of sun protection for the possibly hot summer days.

A few weeks before the trip, I got a call from Dave, who started the conversation with so profuse an apology, I was sure he was cancelling the trip. He went on to explain that he had been talking that afternoon with Rick, an old buddy of his, and when Rick had learned of the camping plans, he had basically invited himself along. I told Dave no big deal, and I didn't think Kristin would mind.

There were a few things I knew about Rick. First, he is 32 and single by choice. He is a bit of a letch, and though he isn't terribly attractive, he seems to always be trying to score with the ladies, and it seemed his success rate was enviable. I also knew that he had always had a thing for my wife.

Kristin and I have a good, if mostly unadventurous sex life. We are open enough with each other that we have verbalized some of our strongest fantasies. Kristin surprised me early in our marriage with how much she enjoyed me talking about us having sex outdoors: beaches, parks, parking lots, pools. But she made it very clear that she loved only the fantasy. She would close her eyes as I told her that I was not unwrapping her bra in our bedroom with the blinds drawn, but on a secluded, sunny beach, where somebody might or might not walk by at any minute. She loved to hear this sort of thing, but the couple of times I thought maybe I could help her turn the fantasy to reality, she flatly refused, stating the fantasy was as far as this fun went for her.

My fantasy was watching her flirt with other men, and then the fun of imagining all the things their flirting could lead to. She indulged my fantasy to a degree, role-playing if she was feeling particularly frisky, sometimes just letting me tell stories, using her body as my visual aid. Even though it had been a good year or so, these stories and some of that role-playing had included Rick in the past. He made no bones about hitting on her, and she knew it. She also had come to know that it turned me on, as Rick was one of the few men I had actually gotten to see blatantly flirting with my very clearly married wife.

In bed that night, we were kissing and cuddling, and I whispered, "I got some interesting news today."

"What?" she said. "It seems Dave was talking to Rick, and Rick somehow invited himself along on our camping trip."

She sat up a bit, looking peeved. "I thought it was just going to be the four of us?"

"I know," I said. "It was supposed to be. Dave felt really bad, and said he had just included himself. I told him it wasn't the end of the world."

She lay back down. "Is he coming alone?"

I laughed. "I asked that too," I said. "Yeah, he'll be alone."

She relaxed a little, and I realized that some strange woman that she didn't know was the thing that would really have bothered Kristin. "I hope he is bringing his own tent," she laughed.

"He doesn't have one," I said very seriously. "So, we agreed he will sleep in their tent one night, and in ours one night."

"WHAT??" she cried, and I broke into laughter.

She laughed too, and settled back into my arms. We kissed a little more.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she whispered.

"What?" I asked.

"Rick sharing our tent for one night."

"Rick and I would both like that," I teased.

"Why would you like that?" she asked.

"Because I know that when it came time to get ready for bed, he'd finally get to see those beautiful tits I know he dreams about."

"You would want me to change in front of him?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Very slowly."

I pulled her nightshirt up and off slowly, and got a look at those gorgeous C cup tits, crowned with perfect pink nipples, right now reaching skyward in their obvious excitement.

"Do you really think about him seeing my tits?" she asked.

"You know I do," I replied. "Are you thinking about it?"

"Hard not to," she laughed. "Do you really think you would like if that happened? If he got to see my tits?"

"I would love it," I said, taking the opportunity to kiss both of them gently.

"It's just kind of different right now," she said.

"What is?" I whispered.

"Whenever you have talked about this before," she said, "it has always been just impossible fantasy. Like us in a corner booth at a bar, or in the middle of a party or something... places it's fun to talk about but where I would never in a million years expose myself."

"Camping is different?" I asked, trembling with arousal.

"Camping is VERY different," she laughed. "Camping has no privacy at all, especially when you are talking about five people in one tiny little site. And it's supposed to be really hot, so none of us are going to be wearing much anyway."

"Fuck you are turning me on, baby," I whispered. "Fuck I want him to see those gorgeous breasts."

She laughed. "I think you'll have to settle for him seeing them in a thin t-shirt," she said, climbing atop me, and immediately taking my cock in her thirsty pussy.

"Just show him, baby. Please????" I said.

She looked down at me with lust in her eyes. "We'll see," she said, and we both hit a remarkable orgasm in nearly record time.

Two days before our trip, something dreadful happened. I am the head of IT at a small software development company, and our biggest client had experienced a major system crash. Our software, vital to their business, was no longer functioning, and they had nobody in-house that could do anything to restore the software or the system. Their entire business was paralyzed, and they were demanding that our timely and thorough technical support was one of the guarantees in their contract. My boss laid the news on me apologetically yet firmly: I was getting on a plane bound for Indianapolis the next morning, and my trip would last as long as the client needed.

I arrived at home glum. I had waited to tell Kristin until I could do it face to face. Walking through the door, I could see that our clothes were laid out, she had picked up boxes of food, and our gear was already waiting in the corner of the room to be packed away in the back of my car.

My tall, beautiful wife sauntered in and held up two modest but still stunningly enticing bikinis. One was a slightly metallic red, the other was a pale cream with a light floral design sweeping across the two padded cups. My first reaction was one of painful guilt, seeing all the trouble she'd gone to for this trip. The second, straight from my cock, was of our conversation when I told her about Rick, and how much I wanted him to get a good look at her tits. Certainly that must have gone through her pretty blond head when she'd gone shopping for 2 bikinis that afternoon.

"Which one do you like?" she asked. "I'm going to take one back, but I wasn't sure."

I was achingly close to breaking my shitty news to her, but my stirring cock couldn't resist putting it for just a couple minutes. "I'd really have to see them both on you," I said.

She considered this, and seemed to accept it as sensible. In a woman's mind, this seemed like a reasonable, asexual request.

She first modeled the red bikini for me, and she looked stunning. For just a minute I was seeing my wife through new eyes, and I had to be honest, they were Rick's eyes. The plunging cleavage of the top was daring me to stare at her taut tits, their milky exposed flesh hinting with subtle allure at the pink perfection hidden by a fractional swath of fabric.

"Beautiful," I said, and she nonchalantly removed the top, and I imagined myself again to be Rick, getting to behold these perfect, and still so voluptuously perky globes for the very first time. Then the bottoms were peeled away, and I was still Rick, getting a hard-on-inducing glimpse at the neat little light brown landing strip that was so clearly meticulously groomed, as if somehow expecting to be seen.

She quickly slipped on the cream bikini, and it fit her gloriously, really hugging her supple breasts, which, squeezed tight like this, were appealingly displayed to be just a little larger on her tall, thin frame than you would expect. But there was another element that he was guessing she had not fully considered. In the dark, drawn changeroom where she had no doubt tried the garments on, she'd never have noticed it, but here, with the glow of the bedroom light, the suit was just a tiny bit transparent, certainly betraying a great deal more about the size and tone of her luscious nipples than the other had. I knew that if she went swimming, or possibly even from the light sweat of a very hot day, her nipples would be as gorgeously displayed as I had ever seen in public.

"You look beautiful in that," I said. "It fits you so nicely. Definitely that one."

"I really thought you'd pick the hot red," she said, laughing.

I went to her and hugged her. Her many patches of naked flesh felt wonderful. "I have some really bad news," I said.

She pulled away. "What?" she asked with worried eyes.

I explained to her about the client, and the emergency plane trip I was being forced into.

"Jesus," she said. "Now? So we can't go?"

"Hold on," I said, taking her in my arms again. "You know how disappointed I am, but I know how much you've done planning for this, and how much you'd like to spend time with Dave and Becky. Please go."

"But you were going to set up the tent, cook the ribs, build the fire, I don't know."

"They'll help you with that," I said soothingly. "Dave and —"

"And Rick," she said, looking me in the eye.

"Right," I said.

"I saw the way you were looking at me in those bikinis, and I somehow knew you were thinking about him. Now I know for sure. You aren't even going to see me in a bikini. You were thinking about him seeing me."

"I like that he will," I whispered.

"Even without you there?" she questioned.

"Yes, especially," I said. "The whole time I am gone, I am going to think about you in that bikini. I am going to imagine Rick ogling you, and flirting with you. I'm going to imagine him pouring you drinks, hoping you get careless with your top."

She stepped back, and looked at me intensely. The glare was not angry, but deadly serious. "Do you really want that?" she asked. "For me to get careless with my top?"

"Yes," I said. "I love you."

"What do you want?" she asked. "Tell me."

"I want Rick to see your tits this weekend," I said, lightly stroking her shoulder.

"See them? See them completely exposed?"

"Completely," I said.

"Ok," she said.

A jolt of excitement ran through me. She lowered the cups of her bikini and showed me her engorged nipples.

"You really want him to see THIS?" she asked.

"So much," I said, honestly.

"What else do you want?"

"I won't be mad if he gets to touch them."

"You are crazy," she said.

"Are you still going to go?" I asked, kissing her lightly.

"I think so," she said. "It's not going to be the same without you."

"Are you really going to show Rick your tits?"

"If it's really hot, and I am wearing this, and it's what you really want, then maybe I will get up the courage, as long as Dave and Becky don't see."

"Nipples and everything?" I asked, pressing myself close against her.

"Nipples and everything?" she laughed. "Once you've gotten to nipples, there's not much more to see."

"By the end of the weekend, is Rick going to know what these nipples look like?" I asked, tweaking one.

"It's possible," she purred, kissing me back now.

"And touch them?" I asked.

"Dave and Becky are going to be there," she said. "That really doesn't sound at all realistic."

"If it's late, and you happen to visit Rick's tent alone, it might be possible," I said.

"Baby," she said, skeptically, "If I go to Rick's tent, and let him touch my tits, he is going to try to fuck me."

"You can tell him no fucking, but if you offer him a handjob or a blowjob, I know you can have fun without letting him fuck you."

"Are you serious?" she asked. "You wouldn't be jealous and mad?"

"Yes, " I said, nuzzling her neck. "Of course it make me a little jealous, but it would also turn me on for the next five years. Knowing that Rick got to touch you, suck on your tits, and knowing that you stroked or maybe even licked his cock."

"Oh my god," she sighed, extremely aroused. "You have to swear to me, swear to me that you really want something like that, swear to me that you won't end up mad at me, or regretting it and holding it against me."

"Do you want to let Rick see your tits, maybe play with them," I asked, still rubbing her, and nibbling at her ear.

"It would be really exciting, as long as we were alone," she said. "But I have to know 100% you really want that."

"I want that 100%," I said.

She shivered in my arms.

"And I want you to enjoy it," I said. "And if he makes you excited, and makes you feel good, I want you to have some fun with his cock."

"I just realized, something," she said, backing away, looking guilty.

"What?" I asked.

"I haven't given you a blowjob in like two months," she said, biting her lip a little.

"It's been four!" I exclaimed, laughing. "That's OK, baby," I said, taking her back in my arms. "It is going to turn me on that much more knowing that Rick might be enjoying something that even I haven't gotten to enjoy in so long."

"Sorry it's been so long," she said, kissing me passionately.

"It's OK," I said. "You are an amazing lover."

"Do you want me to go down on you now?" she asked.

"Are you asking that because you might feel bad if Rick is your first blowjob in months?" I whispered.

She lowered her head, blushing, a little shy. "Yes," she admitted. "That is what I was thinking."

"Does this mean that you are thinking about taking Rick's cock in your mouth?" I whispered.

"Of course I am," she laughed. "You keep talking about it."

"Better question," I whispered, lightly stroking her breasts again, and kissing on her ears in between words. "Do you like the idea of kissing Rick's cock?"

"Yes," she said, breathlessly. "But I want to suck yours first."

"No," I whispered to her. "I want to make love to you, and I want to imagine what Rick might see, or even touch this weekend. But I love the torture of the idea that the next cock in your mouth will be Rick's. I like the idea that the next cum you taste might be from a strange cock somewhere out in the wilderness."

I felt her spasm to an orgasm, STANDING, right there in our bedroom, and I knew that if Rick played his cards right, he was in for one hell of a weekend.

TO BE CONTINUED SOON...