Summer Camp: Once a Scout, Always a Scout

"I don't think that's a good idea; I'll come in about ten strokes if you give me a blowjob," I said as she did just that. It was actually fifteen strokes before I shot my semen into her mouth. She sucked and sucked some more. Then she licked. By the time I was coherent, my cock was clean and resuming an erect state.

"Get on the bed, I'll be right back," my mother said as she walked in to her bathroom. I heard the sink's faucet run and her gargling as I lay back on her bed with my cock now fully recovered.

When she climbed on the bed, I assumed that she would straddle my hips and fuck me cowgirl style, but she didn't stop at my cock, although she did slide her cunt over it while en route to align her cunt with my mouth. When she had positioned her crotch where my tongue could best access her clitoris, she stopped. "Eat me, Bill."

My mother's cunt was as tasty as I recalled, except for one minor difference: she had patted a little patchouli oil on it, giving it that scent and flavor that I recalled from my morning with her friend, Marge. As I clamped my lips around her swollen clitoris, I wondered about Marge. I would ask my mother where Marge was after she came at least once.

***

When we stopped to have lunch, my mother no longer had anything to complain about in the orgasm department; she had come at least five times with the aid of my tongue and cock, a cock that had slammed into her cunt many times.

"Fucking you is almost more than I can take, but when you're gone, it's all I live for," she said over the sandwich and coffee we had for lunch. "But there is one thing I worry about, Bill."

Worry about? How could she be worrying about anything after we had come as many times as we had?

"I sometimes wonder if you should be having sex with girls more your age. I like having your cock in me, and I'm sure that all the other women you're fucking like it as well, but I think that you should try a young gal just to see what it's like if for no other reason."

"I have no complaints. My cock has no complaints. I like to fuck woman your age. You seem to know what you like and how to show me what you like."

"That's true, we older women don't have the coy mannerisms that young gals seem to possess. All of the guys I have sex with know that I like sex and have no problem giving me what I want."

"What do you mean, 'all the other guys' how many other guys are you fucking?"

"As many as I want. We women no longer have to worry about fucking around since the pill arrived on the scene, and that gives us what men have had for years: freedom. If I see a man who I think might have a nice cock and who knows how to use it, I let him know that I'm available. I fucked a delivery man earlier today."

"Did you use a condom with him?"

"No, that's one reason why you slid into me so easily."

***

By the end of the day at my mother's and in my mother, she had not only nearly fucked me until my cock was raw, she had identified for me all of the men she had fucked since I left. In addition, she gave me an accounting of which she liked and those that she found wanting. Our neighbor, Mr. Conrad, was one she liked a lot. It seems that Mr. Conrad had been fucking her for years, thus the sexual frustration of Mrs. Conrad.

Before I left, I asked about Marge again. My mother said that Marge was divorced since I last fucked her. She had turned into a woman I might not recognize. She no longer pleaded to be fucked; she had men clamoring to get into her. I decided to call her.

"Sure, Bill, I would love to have you stop by. Maybe we can find something to do for a few hours," Marge said. I only hoped that I had something left for her.

I felt the Corvette parked at my mother's and walked to Marge's house. It was still about the most well kept house on the block. If her husband was no longer around, I assumed that she was trading sex for yard work.

"Hi, Bill," Marge said as she opened her front door. She had prepared for the visit by getting into something that I had not yet seen on a woman: a sheer body stocking. Her tits and cunt were clearly visible through the fabric, a fabric that held her in way that her body might have been that of an eighteen-year-old woman. Granted, I hadn't seen many eighteen-year-old women's bodies; one to be precise. "Well, what do you think?"

I walked in and ran a hand along her inner thigh, over her cunt, up to her flat stomach and to first one firm tit, then to the other. Then I kissed her, having said nothing. "I think I'd like to cut a small hole in this suit and fuck you where you stand," I said.

"It's clear that you have the equipment for it if that tent in your shorts is any indication." Then she took my hand, closed the door, and gave me a hug and kiss. The body stocking was silky to the touch that added to the sexiness of her. "Now, do you still want to cut a hole in this?"

I gave her my answer by cupping her cunt and working my middle finger over her damp crack and over her clitoris. As I worked on her cunt, Marge unzipped my shorts and reached in, wrapping her hand around my cock. I hadn't worn underwear for just that reason; I wanted her to have no problem finding my cock. As we mutually masturbated, Marge looked into my eyes and smiled. Then she said, "Are you doing this for the money or because you like it?"

"Both," I replied. "Now, where's a scissor, so we can get on with this before I come on your floor.

There is something about the feel of a body stocking covering the woman you happen to be fucking to make the sensation beyond sensual. After I pulled the fabric down and away from Marge's cunt and snipped off a piece of it, I asked if I could enter her from the rear so I could feel her tits with my hands as we fucked.

She answered by taking me to her bedroom where she had a seat at the foot of her bed. With no instruction, Marge placed one foot on the seat and leaned onto the bed's footboard. After getting out of what few clothes I had on, I walked behind her, took hold of her around the waist and pulled her ass into my steel-hard cock. Marge reached between her legs and guided my cock into through the new hole in her body stocking and into the opening of her cunt. Then I pushed until I had everything I had buried in her. As I started to pump in and out of her, I took hold of Marge's tits and used them as handles to keep my balance.

"Let's stop, Bill," Marge gasped as I increased the speed and force of our coupling. "I want to face you now. I want to see you come."

It was hard to pull out of her cunt, but I did. As soon as I did, Marge crawled on her hands and knees onto her bed, turned over and beckoned me to continue. I followed her over the footboard with my cock glistening and at its maximum size. When I reached her, Marge looked at my cock and smiled while opening her legs. Once again, she grabbed my cock and pulled it to her cunt. Then we began to fuck like we were both teens and this was our first time.

As I started to come, Marge gave a yelp and pulled me into her. As I shot semen into her cunt, she came as well. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened as she convulsed.

"Ohhhhhhh, fuck, Bill. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. My god. Mmmmmmmm. Oh, fuck." Then she settled back and appeared to go to sleep or lose consciousness as my cock lost its will to go on.

"Are you sure you want to service any woman who comes along with a check book, Bill? I will give you everything you want or need if you change your mind. You can live here and fuck me every day in any way. Oh, fuck. I almost died that time. You just don't have any idea who my cunt feels right now."

As I listened to her tell me about how my cock made her feel, it regained its former stature while it rested at the opening of her now very open and open and wet cunt. Then I started the same moves that had brought her to her current state.

"Mmmmm, fuck me. Just fuck me," Marge said with closed eyes and a smiled as I slammed against her.

***

Marge and I had reached a new plateau in our relationship that day. She was no longer saddled with a husband she no longer loved nor had sex with, and I no longer had any illusions about just how sex-centered women were. Marge made it clear that she thought about little else.

"Why didn't you just pick up guys after you left your husband?" I asked as I sat across from her kitchen table where we were finishing lunch.

"I lied to you earlier; I did pick up guys and some picked me up. The fact is I had no shortage of sex after our divorce. However, there was always the memory of you and your cock. No one has done to me what you do. It's like you have a vibrator implanted in your cock, it's that intense. I get orgasmic just thinking about it. Every man whom I have fucked since I first experienced you has been compared and found wanting, except for one."

My ego got a shock when she said this. First, she tells me that my cock is the best she has ever had in her cunt, then she tells me that it isn't. "Who was the owner of the cock that is better than mine?"

"His name is Martin. You may know him since he's a Scout."

Martin! The guy who I was responsible for unburdening from his state of virginity? "Yes, I know Martin. I was instrumental in getting him laid for the very first time. I also fucked his mother. Mrs. Reardon, the summer camp cook, was actually responsible for Martin's deflowering, but I was there at the ceremony. As I recall, he was very well put together and more than anxious to lose his virginity. So your saying that his cock does more for you than mine does?"

"The only reason for that is that it's just a little more substantial. Girth counts in cocks. It took a while for me to find that size does matter. Length is great, but girth is better."

As Marge described what turned her on and brought her to orgasm, my cock started its predictable climb. "What would it take for me to exceed Martin?" I asked as I stood and showed Marge what her description of Martin had done to me. Maybe she would assume that telling me that some other cock did more for her than mine did would deflate me in more ways than one; she was wrong. My cock was standing out in all its glory. We hadn't dressed after showering. Eating lunch in the nude was a handy way to prevent stains on one's shirt.

"I happen to have something that my former husband left behind that might do the trick: it's a cock extender that slips on over your cock when it's hard. He used it because his cock was so small. Yours is not small by any means, but it will be even bigger around with this thing in place."

With that, she stood, took me by the hand, and led me to her bedroom once again. Once there, Marge opened one of her dresser drawers and removed a device that looked exactly like my cock, only it was bigger and it was black.

"Do you fantasize about being fucked by a black man, Marge?" I asked while running my right hand down her bare back to her ass then between her legs to her cunt.

"I was fucked by a black man. His cock was huge, but I had to pay him to fuck me. It was on a trip to the cities for just that purpose. I don't include that among my meaningful sexual experiences. Having to pay for sex isn't exactly my cup of tea. I just wanted to have that experience and am glad I did. I bought the cock extender on the same trip. My husband thought that it was insulting to wear it."

I took the device from Marge and looked at it. Then I slid it into place over my cock. I had to admit that I felt like a super stud when it was on and hanging down in its entire ten-inch splendor. "Is this the same size as the black guy's cock?" I asked while holding it up toward Marge's cunt.

"Yes, that's about the size of his cock. But his was the real thing. Now, would you put that thing in me before I come just thinking about his cock?"

Marge lay back on her bed and spread her legs, exposing the open and wet cunt that I was about to slide this monster cock into. When I got on her, I guided the tip of the cock to her cunt, then she took over and drew it to the entrance, then she told me to push it in.

I didn't feel the insertion, but I saw it in Marge's eyes. She got that far off appearance, like she was in another state of reality as I pushed. It was difficult to know when I reached bottom, or if I had gone too far because of the thing that covered my cock. From the way Marge was reacting, my guess was that I couldn't go far enough into her cunt and that I couldn't slam into her hard enough, so that's what I did.

The look on Marge's face and the way that her tits moved as I fucked her with the huge cock extender was enough to bring me to orgasm. Shooting semen into a real cunt is one thing, shooting semen in to a fake cock is another. Marge saw that I was coming and responded by grabbing her cunt and working on her clitoris in an almost hysterical way. Then she came. Man, did she come. I knew when she came that this was an experience that I wanted to repeat, but with someone other than Marge. Marge had no problem finding sex partners. She had told me that already.

This would be our last time; Marge would go on to new and better men and I would return to my "real boss" and "painting."

"How about Martin?" I asked as Marge and I dressed following the shower we took together.

"Martin is going off to college this fall, but he promised to visit every time he returns. I hope that he finds some young thing at college to use that fantastic cock on."

Then we parted, but not before we talked about getting together real soon.

Twenty

Life as a "painter" and gigolo to my boss and several other women made life good for several years. By the time I had reached an age when I could no longer achieve a hard on with just the look from a woman, I gave thought to my life and where it was going. Money was not an issue since I had invested wisely and owned an apartment complex, thanks to my boss. Sex wasn't an issue since I took good care of myself and woman seemed to be attracted to me. What was an issue was the thought that I wouldn't always be young and that at some point it might be nice to have family. So that's what I did; I found a family.

Mrs. Reardon and I had remained in contact over the years in more ways than one. Her daughter had been married and divorced during this time and joined us from time to time. When I brought up the idea that we should consider a life together, Olivia thought it was a great idea, but on one condition: I had to stop fucking her mother. I agreed, but with a lot of regret. Mrs. Reardon was the woman who gave me an education in women and what made them not only tick, but come. It was an education that made me wealthy. How was I going to tell her that we wouldn't be exchanging bodily fluids again after her daughter and I were an official couple. Then it occurred to me: I would simply lie. Isn't life full of lies, after all? Almost every woman with whom I had had sex was married and was "cheating" on her husband. Isn't that the greatest lie of all? I thought it was, although I was grateful for it. So that's what I did.

The End