Wilderness

I hadn't counted on how quickly the concoction would work and when I suddenly regained awareness, the carnal activities were already in progress on the floor just to the side of where I lay. I had planned to arrange myself in a good position for my voyeurism before feigning sleep but now I found my head was pointing in the wrong position and it took some time to subtly adjust my posture while maintaining the illusion of sleep. Even when I could see, despite the spectacle of them rutting, drowsiness still threatened to envelope me causing me to concentrate more on staying awake than on their meshed heaving bodies, so I have little detail to report except that their frenzy had to indicate the mutual need that had accumulated during the day.

There was one thing I do remember vividly, something that both surprised and shocked me, and that was the overpowering smell of sex which filled the interior of the tent. When watching porn, in close up or not, that element is not present and when you are a partner in the passionate encounter, for some reason you remain unaware but when lying within inches of a copulating couple you have to be breathing in the mixed aromas of their meshed genitals. The strong odour must have triggered my saliva gland because I needed to continually swallow or else I would have been lying there drooling like a baby. I was still contemplating that thought when consciousness again deserted me.

I suddenly snapped awake again to find that my mind was crystal clear. They were now stretched out naked side by side with my wife to be lying the further away. He had one bronzed arm round her and they were kissing with tongues enmeshed, his left hand contentedly fondling her breasts while the fingers of her right hand traced lazy teasing circles on his lower abdomen without ever quite making contact with his genitals. They broke the embrace and as if on a signal Pat moved her hand lower to start reinvigorating his penis -- a task she accomplished with practiced ease. When his organ was nicely engorged but not yet at full stiffness she sat up and leaned forward, with lush breasts dangling like ripe fruit, to take his swollen knob end into her wet mouth. As he casually caressed those wonderful tits she used her full oral magic on him but I could tell this was intended to get his great tool ready for more heavy duty action rather just an exercise in phallic adoration.

When she had achieved the required degree of rigidity, Pat cocked one leg over him, adroitly engaged his male prong into her female socket and sank down on him. For a time she leaned forward riding him like a jockey with her hands on his pectoral muscles but once her cry had signified a Derby win she sat up. She continued to look down at him, her hips undulating slightly to maintain friction and with all evidence of his maleness secreted somewhere inside her body. "When Tom is fully recovered I'm going to end it with him, "she said. Her words caused me to make an involuntary moan of despair but I managed to turn it into a snore.

"I hope you're not thinking of me as a replacement," Bret said with real consternation in his voice. "I said at the start this was just an interlude. Its' a delightful interlude and I've never been with a woman I've enjoyed more but it's still an interlude. I'm far too fixated on my research to get entangled in a relationship -- even with you."

"Don't worry," Pat told him, "I love doing this with you [quick flurry with her hips to emphasise the point] but you're so overpowering I'd hate to have you around all the time. No the reason I have to finish with Tom is that he deserves someone far better than me. I love him so much. He the kindest decent, most loving man I've ever known and I thought we were soul mates but you've made me realise despite all that, I can't go through the rest of my life without ever having a big cock inside me again. I thought I could. The boy friend I had before Tom was fantastic in bed but I finished up hating him. I managed to convince myself that a good relationship was all that mattered but now I know it isn't. Tom needs a wife who'll stay faithful to him and I don't think I can."

"If you are so good together it's stupid to throw it away for high minded principle," Bret advised. "I personally know several husbands who are willing even happy to give their wives some leeway with extra-marital stuff. Perhaps Tom isn't in that category but there are still loads of women in strong marriages who truly love their husbands but still manage to have discreet sexual adventures when the need or opportunity presents itself."

"Maybe you're right -- I know it'll break my heart to give him up," she told him thoughtfully.

They did some more fucking but the pain in my leg and the pain in my heart ensured that I took little note of it. Later, through the long night with the tent in darkness, I lay with my leg a superheated mass of throbbing agony and visions of gangrene and amputation dominating my mind, bitterly regretting that I had not consumed the full glass of morphine mixture. For most of the next day I was delirious with Bret and Pat taking turns to monitor me with worried looks on their faces. The weather stayed locked in which meant spending another night in the tent. During the evening I had spell of remission in that the pain eased and I felt quite lucid. I wondered if their concerns about me might inhibit them from screwing that night but just one intercepted exchange of hungry glances shared between them told me that was unlikely. This time there was no question of me not gulping down the entire morphine chalice when it was offered.

I heard later that the following morning dawned clear and the helicopter landed about eleven. With very little room, space was made for me to be whisked to hospital but the other two had to wait for a second trip. I was examined, X-rayed and prepared for surgery but virtually the whole of that day is a blank except for a few vague impressions. For some reason I only became fully conscious again minutes before being taken down to the operating theatre. Very aware that I might return minus a leg I looked round hopefully for a loving face but was disappointed. A nurse started fussing around me so I asked if she knew where Pat was. "The helicopter had mechanical problems so your wife and your friend have had to stay where they are until tomorrow," she explained happily, quite unaware of how this news further damaged my fragile peace of mind. 'Nice for them," I thought, 'All alone miles from anywhere without even my helpless presence to make them feel guilty.' A few minutes later I was sedated.

I came round to the great relief of knowing that I still had two legs but then slept again for several hours. The next time I woke it was to find Pat sitting at the side of the bed smiling at me. I smiled back and was about to say something personal until my peripheral vision picked up Bret sprawled out in a chair on the other side of the bed. She got up to kiss me but it seemed more going though the motions than showing real affection. Medical advice had limited this to a short visit but by the end I wasn't sorry. Although Pat chattered for us both it was all about my prognosis and who back home had been informed of my accident with no personal sentiments mentioned at all. Bret gave me a nod near the start and a thumbs up before leaving but didn't actually speak.

Although the visits were far longer, the next three days followed the same pattern. The problem was that they always arrived together. I will admit that Bret tried to keep a low profile, pretending preoccupation with various items of medical equipment or the view outside the window and absenting himself from the room for periods of time but I was never unaware of his presence even unseen -- their body language when arriving and leaving was as good as a diagram of how they spent their nights. All was the same on the next day until shortly before departure time when Bret strode to the side of the bed with his hand thrust out saying, "I won't be coming here again but I don't think you'll be too upset by that. I'd just like to wish you the best of luck and hope you make a full recovery."

This time, I returned his grip and said sincerely, "Thank you for saving my life -- I'll never forget it." There was a long moment still retaining my grip before I added the words that still needed to be said, "No hard feelings." It was a lie.

The next day Pat gave me a warm smile when she arrived, quickly followed by the first really loving kiss since my fall. Even more significant was the remark 'when I get you home' because that showed that she still viewed us as a couple. With Bret gone the difference in her was amazing. Pat seemed more rested and I could no longer see the guilt hidden deep in her eyes. Most importantly I was now able to sleep far more easily without those visions of her being fucked into a catatonic state of ecstasy every night. We were even able to take advantage of single room privacy for her to give me a relieving daily hand job. These started by accident when I complained that my plaster was rubbing but Pat when slipped her hand under the covers to check the problem, her questing hand encountered my over stiff penis.

"Well that certainly isn't broken," she said laughing followed by "Oops," when my pent up erotic state exploded at her touch. There was more amusement as, without ceremony, she threw back the covers and started mopping up with tissues from her bag, remarking 'There's rather a lot' and 'Next time I'll be more careful." It was amazing how the departure of Bret from the scene had allowed our old intimacy to return.

During the week arrangements were made for us to fly back home on the Saturday. Well on Thursday, just before leaving, Pat warned, "I'll be a bit late coming in to see you tomorrow but it doesn't matter because soon we'll be together all the time." Of course I wanted to know the reason and her answer destroyed the illusion I had created, "Bret's going back tomorrow and I want to see him off."

"I thought he went back last week, "I stuttered.

"No, he just stopped visiting because he thought you'd prefer not to see him," she said. "He actually feels responsible for you so he cancelled the rest of his holiday. We ought to be very grateful to him -- you have to pay to be in hospital here but he's managed to wangle it on to his insurance."

"You mean you've still been sleeping with him all this week?"

Pat shrugged. "I didn't see why not -- it would've been a waste not to. I mean, you knew he'd already fucked me more than once and seemed to have accepted it so I couldn't see the harm of a few more times. Besides which, Bret really stuck his neck out just to save us a lot of money and it was the only real way to reward him. The medical bill would have been thousands."

I didn't argue but remained subdued for the rest of her visit and when Pat eventually turned up the next day I continued to let my resentment show. The journey home was exhausting and it took a great deal of sleep over several days before I felt both more like myself and in a far happier frame of mind. I was to remain a relative invalid for two whole weeks but both my condition and optimism were improving all the time. I felt our relationship was almost back to how it used to be -- this helped on my part bu the fact that my rival was safely at work a whole ocean and over half a continent away. The large pot on my leg was replaced by a much smaller one and this greatly improved my mobility. Since the return we had had sex but this was me fondling her and Pat getting me off with either hand or mouth. Now I was going to attempt the real thing. The attempt was successful not just once but three times with Pat pulling out all the stops to give me the best sex of my life.

The next day I was hobbling around in a contented haze until, without preamble, Pat said abruptly, "We've got to stop seeing each other -- I think we need to split up."

"But last night," I gasped, completely bemused.

"You deserved last night and I tried to make it special as a memory."

Her announcement had caught me by surprise but I had had plenty of time to prepare my counter argument. "I know why and I understand but there's no need to separate," I said urgently. "After seeing how you were when you'd been with Bret -- and before that when you were going out with Frank, I know that I can't give you the kind of sex you need. It's unfair to expect you to give that up just to be with me so I'm prepared to let you have sex with other men. It's just a matter of not letting my love for you be possessive love and recognising that sharing you won't really take anything away from me." It was a desperate plea and from the emotions on her face I almost thought it had worked.

"It's more than that -- I'm pregnant and it can't be yours," Pat told me sadly.

"But how?" I asked stupidly.

"We'd agreed to try for a family after the holiday and I thought we would always remember if I conceived when we were miles from anywhere. I was going to tell you that I wasn't protected the first time we made love but it didn't happen. The Saturday was the day I was due to ovulate but everything had already gone wrong by then so I just hoped that Bret wouldn't impregnate me.

It didn't need any thinking about. Taking a deep breath I told her, "It looks like WE are going to have a fine son. I think we ought to get married if only to keep your folks happy -- that is if you still want me?"

Her answer was wildly and emotionally affirmative.