Country Livng

The fall was crisp and clean at the University and getting into the advanced photography class in my sophomore year, on the strength of my portfolio, gave me a sense of accomplishment and some trepidation.

This class was graded entirely upon your work, and not just the finished photograph. Student composition's were discussed and dissected, during the class times on Wednesday and Friday, to find the underlying reasons for the photo and the feelings that evolved into the shot. The technical aspects of the film were secondary, unless there were no photos developed.

We were free to add or remove photos, from the portfolio, until the final day of the class.

We were required to have 30 photos in our portfolio at the end of the grading period, all drawn from the area in a 30 mile radius of the campus. Our instructor was honest when he described why the class was so important to our development as artists and not just photographers.

The same assignment had been given to this class, for every grading period for ten years. 20 students per class, three grading periods each year and the math on the chalkboard showed that there were 600 photographers before me.

He said that everything in town had been photographed, and most things in the county had appeared in portfolios, over the years. A fresh perspective would guarantee a good grade.

I had gone on some trips in my VW bus out into the countryside, with other members of the class, to look for quality subject matter. I decided after a couple of weekends that I needed to go out on my own, so I would not be influenced by the other artists plans for each photograph.

I had been purposely avoiding the southeast area of the county, saving it for myself, because I had friends from the dorms that had moved out this way. My close friends, like me, valued their privacy, and our motto was, "Everybody's a cop!".

I started out on Friday, after dinner at the dining hall, for the far reaches of the 30 mile radius. Starting at the main campus I headed southeast, moving from the main roads, to the county roads and finally to the township roads, which were covered only with tar and loose gravel for a road surface. The clearance of the bus afforded me many opportunities to move onto the roads less traveled, and I had shot four rolls of 35 mm on a variety of subjects and varying light conditions.

I started back to the campus as dusk arrived, but after just getting back into the county I ran out of gas . I coasted the VW down the long incline from Sandstone Ridge down to the bottom of Bear Wallow Hollow. The energy of the VW expired at the bottom, and the opening in the thick brush showed a driveway that headed up the hillside and disappeared into the thickening forest.

I wasn't able to even develop a plan of action, before a green pickup truck rolled up behind the bus, with three passengers crowded into the front.

The driver was a black man, dark and handsome. He had deep brown eyes and a short afro, a wide flat nose with flaring nostrils, lovely full lips that opened to show gleaming teeth and a bright happy smile. He was physically handsome, too, although only my height when he exited the truck. Shirtless, the lines of his muscles were defined in his blackness and the tan cotton slacks ended in sensible hiking boots.

A blond woman, about my age and size, was sitting next to him, wearing a bright green halter top that held her ample bosom in check and a loose fitting blue jeans dress, made from an old pair of Levi's opened in the middle and connected to form a dress, that buttoned down the front, and was opened a long way up her creamy white thigh. She reminded me of Mammy Yokum with her knee-high hiking boots.

The guy on the passenger side was big. He had wild shoulder-length hair that cascaded onto broad sun-burned shoulders. He had big arms, shirtless also, but his skin color did not add definition to his physique and I would learn that he was much stronger than he looked. He was wearing ragged cutoff shorts, that were an inch too short when he was sitting, and had good hiking boots on his big feet.

Everyone but the black man stayed in the truck, while he approached me, and the VW.

He introduced himself as Alan, and asked me what the problem was. I admitted I had run out of gas and could use a little help. Turning toward the truck, he introduced the blond as his lady Cindy, and the big guy he called Tarzan. I laughed and said, "Lord of the Jungle?".

Alan said, "Not really, his name is Ashley, but he can do the Tarzan yell just like Johnny Weismuller. So we started calling him Tarzan this last summer."

I knew Ashley but he sure had changed, since last spring. He was a football scholarship player I had met in the dorms. He had been in some hot water with the athletic department for his peace activities, since they wanted everyone to join R.O.T.C., and the situation must have finally come to a peak, if he was here and not at training table or football practice, in the fall. I waved at him and said hello, and saw that he knew me when his mouth opened in a smile.

Alan offered to help me out after they took the supplies in the truck bed up to the house. Cindy and I jumped into the bed of the truck and Alan started the slow twisting drive, through the small path in the undergrowth, and up the steep hill lane that wandered across and back as it worked up the hill. There were huge ruts and even going slowly, the truck bounced Cindy and me closer together. She whispered that Ashley thought I was hot and wanted to ask me to stay for some dinner, before we went to get the bus fueled. I smiled at her and said thanks. She whispered that she thought I was hot, too. I smiled, again, and told her thanks.

Then she leaned into me, pressing her breast into mine, and clinched the deal when she said, "Alan thinks you are very hot. Have you ever tried a black man?"

"In high school I necked and petted with one of the black guys at a party, but got pissed off when he asked me about fixing him up with a girlfriend." I replied. "I did love the feel of his lips against mine and especially on my neck. His hand pushing into my pussy, through my Levi's, had gotten me so wet, that he could have taken me then, if he had wanted me."

"Will you stay?", she implored, but I withheld my decision until I could get my VW running again.

The trail, since it was rough and overgrown, was very slow going, and the jostling kept Cindy bumping boobs with me the entire five minute trip up the hill. the underbrush gave way at the top to a massive plateau, with an old farmhouse complete with wrap around porch and porch sofas. There were two out buildings, more equipment sheds than barns, and a huge barn was visible behind the house and farther into the field. An old-fashioned outhouse was between the barn and the house.

The truck pulled up 20 yards from the house and Tarzan got out, threw his head back and did his horrible piercing yell of the conquering ape.

I was impressed, and said as much to him, asking if Tarzan was looking for his Jane. He glanced at me and said, "Let's go and get you some fuel for your bus.", then turned and walked toward one of the sheds. I pecked Cindy on the cheek and told Alan thank you for the help, and followed Tarzan into the shed.

As I entered, he spun around and grasped both my biceps in a steel grip, pulled me into him, and roughly kissed me on the mouth, never trying to tongue me. I responded, kissing him back, my lips pressed hard against his, my tongue wanting to slip into his mouth. As quickly as it started, it was over.

He reached down and picked up a gas can and a funnel and walked out of the shed toward the encroaching thicket. I regained my composure and followed him through the thicket and onto a landing.

There were stairs that led back down to the roadside. Actually there were three sets of stairs that connected three well-worn rock paths that led to the road. It was not an easy path and I slipped and landed in his grasp on more than one occasion. I tried to push my boobs up into his face, but he steadied me and said, maybe later, while smiling and laughing with me.

I had no idea we were at the roadside, until Ashley shoved through a small opening and we were about 30 feet east of the driveway entrance, and 100 yards from the bus.

I had told Ashley that I knew him from the dorms, and he said he had seen me around. I asked him about football, and he said that he didn't want to talk about his past. Then we were at the bus and he put a couple of gallons in and she started back up. I told him that Cindy said I should stay for a meal, and he said that would be cool, but we should drive the bus back up the mountain where it would be safe overnight.

I sat on the right and let Ashley negotiate the path back up to the farmhouse, driving the bus. The excitement on Cindy and Alan's faces when the two of us and the bus arrived, told me that I had made a good decision.

We all helped prepare a light meal, and then sat on the porch facing the sunset, while we ate our fill and the guys drank a couple of beers. The air in the fall was not yet cool in the evening, so the guys stripped off their shirts, again, and Cindy moved over closer to Alan. I moved closer to Ashley and we found ourselves sitting in the circle, passing to the right, so Alan pulled out a tray of pot and twisted a bomber.

The pot was excellent and the glow started to warm my loins, as I noticed Alan peeking down my top as we passed the joint. I asked Cindy why the guys should have all the fun, and then stripped off my top, exposing my lacey bra. Cindy popped her halter and her boobs spilled out. I was sure that I was the only one here who hadn't squeezed them, so I reached over and felt her up. She responded my pulling me closer and we kissed. Cindy kissed me like a woman likes to be kissed, and I melted in her arms.

I felt the other hands undressing me and Cindy, as we kissed and moved to allow our clothes to be removed. Naked hands, rough and calloused, were caressing me and gently probing my wet spots, while I was taken completely by this woman kissing me deeply.

She asked me again, if I had ever been with a black man, and I told her no, again. Then she asked me if she could give me to Alan to use however he pleased. To submit to his desires, and have Cindy clean me completely when he was done? I wondered about Ashley, and Cindy told me that she would get him ready for sloppy seconds with a well-used cunt. I was flabbergasted, but quickly agreed to his domination.

Cindy was ecstatic and pulled out velvet ropes and secured my hands high above my naked body to a post on the porch. She told me to spread my legs wide and tied each ankle to the railing. As my legs spread, the juice from my cunt spread down my thigh visibly. Each man set to work on a nipple, with their teeth, stretching, biting and pulling the nipples to attention. Cindy was sitting cross-legged between my legs, with her mouth plastered on my pussy, sucking my clit like Alan's cock.

Their hands found my ass cheeks and spread them to allow Cindy's thumb to penetrate me. I was near delirium from the sensations they were causing between my fiery nipples and my gushing cunt. Ashley said for Alan to fuck me now, and pulled Cindy's face off of my cunt and put her onto his cock, as he sat in a chair.

Alan asked me if I wanted his cock. I told him that I wanted his fat black cock to be the first in me today. I talked dirty to him, and told him what a cum slut I was for a hard cock and my first black one had better drive into me deeply.

Alan did not disappoint me. He told me that I was Cindy's gift to him and fucked me standing there tied to the railing, squirming around his cock.

His thick lips were all over me and he left bite marks on his possession. The third time his cock caused me to gush hot fluid over his cock, balls and thighs he pumped me full of his hot juice, driving up in me to ram himself into my womb.

I was still impaled on his meat, when Cindy untied my ankles and wrists, supporting me until I could get over to the sofa. I had looked over once, while Cindy was getting plowed, and I was ready to have Ashley's pole open me up, too.

I laid back and lifted my ankles above his head to provide clear passage for his cock to stir up the mess that Alan deposited in me. It was my first sloppy seconds, and I was in heaven with pleasure, as his pole slurped in and out of my pussy, spreading the slop all around my pussy and his cock and balls.

I wanted to have more splash, ooze and that fucking scent, so I flipped over to my knees and gave him a sloppy pussy goat style. He knew what an ewe needed and he drove me to three orgasms before I collapsed in a heap on my face under him. When I awoke, I was in a big bed and Cindy was slurping and cleaning my cunt with her mouth.

Ashley had treated me like the cum bucket I was, and filled me with a huge load of his cream, after my face hit the sofa. Cindy would have gobbled me there, but Ashley wanted me to be in Alan's bed when I woke up. He knew I was going to want more of that, and he wanted more, after Alan was done. I relaxed and let Cindy do her best, without any interruption, until she knew I was awake and fed me her cunt full of Alan's and Ashley's cum. I was being treated like never before, and was loving every moment.

Soon the door opened and the two men entered, to come and join us in the bed. They started all over on my boobs, now raw from attention, but the pain was a good sensation and Cindy bit gently on my clit at the same time, until my orgasm gushed up and sprayed her face with my slick sweet juices.

Then Alan laid back and asked me to ride his pole of pleasure. I watched every inch of his black cock penetrate my pussy. The pink wrapping around his blackness and drawing the flesh inside to pound my cervix some more. When I had the whole thing inside me I pulled my feet up until the soles were flat on the bed and my entire being was wrapped around the pole penetrating to my core.

Then I started bouncing up and down on the cock, as Cindy got behind me pushed me forward and tongue-fucked my asshole, while Ashley fucked her cunt senseless.

This went on for a long time, until the men filled the cunts up with juice. Ashley couldn't wait to sink his now hard cock in my mess, while Cindy went to work cleaning every inch of Alan's cock, balls and ass. Ashley pounded all the come out of my used cunt and it collected under me on the bed, a huge white mess of man and woman cum. After the last time he unloaded in me for the night, I heard him ask Alan if he was done with his present. Alan said yes, and Ashley asked if he could have me. Alan said yes, and for the rest of the fall I was Ashley's woman. Cindy and Alan could have me anytime they wanted, but I was Ashley's girl.

I became very familiar with the texture, taste and hardness of Alan's cock, and Ashley always loved to have the sloppy seconds. If Alan and Cindy weren't around I knew I could get a double header out of Ashley, by telling him that my fresh-soaked pussy was a treat that Alan left for him. He would never eat just Alan's come from my cunt, but mixed with his, there was no stopping that termite from devouring a sloppy, messy, swollen and cum-filled cunt. Cindy's, too, if Alan gave him the pleasure.

The photographs from the next session turned out to be the best, because no one had ever used this land and farmhouse for their photo study. I received the highest grade in the class, and was suspected by some of going outside the radius for my subjects. Eventually, I took the instructor for a ride in the VW to a spot near the farmhouse, so he could check the radius mileage. He understood the danger in going up the lane to the farmhouse, so the mileage was established and I passed the class.

Future classes would get the same opening day lecture about the radius and the new perspective for the viewer, and then he would always mention the brave soulthat went into the unknown wilderness lands of Bear Wallow Hollow, to seek out new photos and subjects, to bravely go where no one has photographed before, using his best James T. Kirk voice.

I made friends that remained with me until Alan passed away six years ago. Cindy is back in Colorado. Ashley disappeared shortly after Alan's funeral.

Once a year I get a card from somewhere. No writing, except the address and no return address. The single phrase is written neatly. "Me, Tarzan. You Jane!"