tagLoving WivesA Romp in the Rockies

A Romp in the Rockies

byArt Martin©

The July heat in Denver had been insufferable for weeks. For days on end the mercury went into the high 90's by late morning. Without air conditioning in either our house or my trusty, but rusty, Jeep Wagoneer, Wendy and I just suffered through it. At least it cooled off by bedtime, but for the most part it was just plain hot.

Escaping from the city was the only relief available to us and as Friday afternoon rolled around, we skipped out of work early and headed for the cool of the high mountains. As we both worked downtown, we rendezvoused at the parking garage. The Jeep was packed, ready for a quick getaway. No need to waste time by going home first.

I wasn't about to drive west in my business suit and stripped down by the side of the truck. I was prepared and wore a pair of red jogging shorts under my suit pants. Wendy had a little more of a challenge, but managed to rid herself of her business clothes, changing into a green halter top and shorts, without flashing anyone but me. I sort of hoped someone would come by, but no one did before she was fully dressed.

Making our escape, we headed west, enjoying the wind blowing through the open windows. Passing the Dakota hogbacks, I looked over at Wendy, her long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail, the wind lifting her halter top and giving me a quick glimpse of the bare skin of her breasts.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Glen," she admonished me. "I don't want to be splattered across the roadside just because you wanna see a little tit."

"I can't help it Babe. I like your tits."

"Well, they'll still be here when we get to Mineral... if we get to Mineral."

Concentrating on the road ahead and ignoring my favorite set of boobs I mused, "Hope we can get there before anyone else does. I sure want that lowermost campsite this time."

Always the pragmatist Wendy replied, "I'll settle for any of the upper sites. It's so beautiful up there."

"Yeah, but sites above the falls have no privacy at all, and the one we stayed at last time, a great site for sure, has a little too much foot traffic coming down to the base of the upper falls. Remember what happened last time."

Wendy laughed remembering how embarrassed she was when three guys suddenly came trudging through our campsite, stumbling upon us in a state of martial coitus out in the wide open. Instead of just politely passing through, the three guys stopped and gawked a little too long. Didn't bother me enough to stop and I fucked Wendy to completion before pulling out of my wife. I stood up to confront our audience and as I did, the three profusely apologized and then hurriedly continued on their way. Safely away from me, the air filled with their hoots and laughter. I really didn't give a shit, but Wendy sure turned a deep shade of crimson.

I was a little annoyed at their rudeness, but I really couldn't blame them, as I have always found Wendy most appealing when she's nude and spread out, and its not everyday that you stumble across a couple fucking in outdoors. Unfortunately it spoiled the mood. After that, Wendy wouldn't screw out in the open for fear the threesome would return.

"Yes, we gave them quite a show," she lamented.

We climbed the grade and soon the air appreciably cooled several degrees. Long before we hit the Eisenhower Tunnel at the continental divide, it was appreciably cooler, requiring us to roll up the windows.

Wendy reached over and tweaked my erect nipple. "Getting cold?"

"Naw, it's just a bit cool," I replied pushing her hand lower towards my crotch.

"You sure you don't want to put a shirt on?"

"Naw, I'm okay."

"Good, because you look good shirtless. I like your nipples," she teased. "However," she said patting my tummy, "you need to start watching yourself. You're getting a little...pudgy."

"Pudgy?" I looked down. It was true, my rock hard abs were gone, having been replaced by a slight paunch. "Yeah, I look like hell!"

"It's not that bad Glen, but you need to get it under control. No more excuses as to why you can't get in workout on a regular basis. When was the last time you got any exercise?"

"Okay, okay. We've been really busy and..."

"You need to take care of yourself, Glen. Instead of eating at your desk, you need to get out, go to the club and work off some of the tension. You'll not only look better and feel better, but you'll also be more productive at the office."

"I know, but it's..."

"No buts! I love you too much to see you turn into a glob of flab, and I certainly don't want to be a young widow like my mother."

A glob of flab? Dead? That did it! I didn't give a damn what anyone else thought, but if Wendy thought I looked flabby, then I really needed to do something. No way was I going to allow myself to deteriorate into some sort of formless blob, not to mention the unpleasant consequences of an early death. "You think I'm flabby?" I asked suddenly wishing I had a shirt on.

"No, you're not flabby, but you've put on a few pounds and it's beginning to show."

"Well, thanks," I said peevishly. "How would you like it if I told you that..."

"What? That I'm fat? I wouldn't allow it!" she huffed. "When I'm fifty and dying my grey hair, I plan on having a dynamite body that you can't resist and I don't want you gasping for air while you try to satisfy me."

She had me there. She didn't have an ounce of excess fat on her lithe 5'8" frame and I couldn't imagine her overweight.

"Okay, I know you don't like the prospect of humping some old pot bellied pervert any more than I like the prospect of humping an old wrinkled sow, but we will both get old someday."

"Then let's take care of ourselves and grow old gracefully. I plan to and so should you; if not for yourself, then do it for me."

Wendy and I sat silent for a few minutes until she patted my tummy again saying, "Hey, it's really not that bad. Actually, it's kind of cute, but it's really not healthy."

When we stopped in Dillon for gas, I rummaged around and found a t-shirt more out of self-consciousness than in an attempt to stave off the slight chill in the air. Another hour later and we were heading up a one lane Jeep trail towards the ghost town of Mineral. Passing the dozen or so dilapidated shacks and buildings of Mineral, we turned left and followed Mineral Creek up a steep gorge.

I downshifted into low range and put it in the lowest gear ratio possible for the steep upward climb. Barely wide enough for my Wagoneer, the road was liberally strewn with rocks of various sizes. We progressed, lurching over rocks that would stop an ordinary vehicle. Wendy became increasingly nervous as the road climbed higher above the creek bed. The road was nothing more than a narrow ledge blasted out of the side of the mountain a hundred years ago for a narrow gauge railroad built to haul ore down from several mines to the mill at Mineral. According to lore, the mines played out just as the railroad was completed.

Wendy had the panoramic side, the view consisting of a shear drop off to the bottom the gorge several hundred feet below. I knew, but really couldn't see how close my tires were to the edge, but simply hugged the mountainside as best I could, losing my side mirror in the process. Each time the Wagoneer pitched and lurched sideways as I drove over a large rock, Wendy screamed.

At one point I encountered a rock too big to drive over. I didn't have room enough to open my door and exiting from one of the passenger side doors was too harrowing for my taste, forcing me to crawl over our gear to exit via roll-down rear window. I rummaged around without unpacking all of our gear, retrieving the long wreaking bar I keep in the Jeep for just such occasions. I guess I could have squeezed between the side of the truck and the outcropping rocks, but I chose the easier route of climbing over the top of the vehicle to reach the front. Fortunately the errant boulder was near the edge and with a little effort I manhandled the obstacle over the side.

"Don't get so close!" she admonished fearfully as I watched the big rock crash down the side of the chasm.

Once the boulder had smashed itself to smithereens, I climbed back over the top to reach the back of my Wagoneer. After stowing the wreaking bar, I crawled back over our stuff to reach the driver's seat.

"One thing is for sure," I said eagerly, "unless that rock fell within the past few minutes, there's no way that there's anyone is up here, unless they walked."

"Oh, god," groaned Wendy. "C'mon, let's go before another rock falls." That was good advice and we proceeded ahead at a blistering 5 miles per hour.

Finally after forty minutes of hair-raising travel, we caught sight of the lower falls. The sight was simply breath taking. A series of three falls, each with a drop of about fifty feet, they originated at the lip of a hanging valley carved by ice during the last glaciation. Soon we were abreast of the falls and the road widened suddenly. A few feet later we turned into the prized lowermost campsite.

The campsite was gorgeous, situated on a large pool of crystal clear water just above the first of the lower falls. It had a picturesque view of the smaller upper falls as well as a commanding view of the craggy alpine scenery of the surrounding cirque

The other campsite below the upper falls also had a very nice view. This was the site we had stayed at before. The only problem with the other site was that the trail leading down from the hanging valley to the upper falls forked. Hikers camped above the upper falls trying to access the pool below the upper falls sometimes took the wrong fork and wound up passing through this campsite to access the pool. The lowermost site had no such problem and I was elated to be able to stake my claim to it for the weekend.

Dusk was already upon us, filling the hanging valley with ever deepening shadows. We scurried about, setting up the tent and getting supper on before it got pitch dark. Before supper was done, we both had on our ski jackets and long johns as the temperature quickly plummeted.

After gazing at the incredible night sky for an hour, we retired to our humble tent to hump and rut for an hour or so until Wendy finally said, "Enough! You're making me sore!"

"You rather be sore or be horny?"

She cuddled up to me and honestly answered, "Sore."

Next thing I knew, it was daybreak. We dressed in layers for the day, putting on jeans over shorts, flannel shirts over t-shirts, and topping off with ski jackets and wool caps. Even though the morning air was brisk, we knew it would heat up through the day and that by lunchtime we would be down to our shorts and t-shirts.

After a quick breakfast, we headed up the valley to explore, leaving our ski jackets behind. The air was still crisp, but the exercise warmed us up nicely.

Following the road, hiking was easy, just a gentle grade climbing the U-shaped valley. The valley floor was covered in a blanket of wildflowers and strewn with boulders, some the size of a small house. We hiked past an alpine lake and turned off the road to follow a trail up to an old mine. For an hour or so we poked around the mine tailings looking for mineral specimens and I was rewarded by finding several garnets, not of gem quality, but nicely formed crystals for my collection.

Packing twenty pounds of rocks in my pack, we headed back down to our campsite for lunch and relaxation, planning to check out another mine later that afternoon after I got in a little fishing. We had shucked the flannel shirts an hour earlier and before we made it down, I stopped and shed my t-shirt as well.

Passing by the upper campsite by the foot of the upper falls, we saw that we had company even though we didn't see who they might be. I had worked up a sweat on the hike down and once back in camp it was a relief to pull off my jeans and trade in my hiking boots and socks for a pair of Tiva sandals.

Wendy had similar ideas and stripped down to her shorts. I wasn't all that hungry and before she could replace her t-shirt with a bikini top, I pushed Wendy up against the Jeep and laid on the kisses, my hands roaming across her bare skin as I ground my crotch into hers.

"Not out here," she protested weakly between kisses as I pulled her shorts down.

"Why not?" I whispered.

"Those people."

"What people?"

"At the other campsite."

"What about them? They won't come down here."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me," I said as I pushed my own shorts down. "Besides who cares if they do see us?"

"I do! What'll they think?"

I answered her in a near hiss, "They'll think that I love you. That I love fuckin' you. That you love fuckin' me."

While in the midsts of my dirty talk, I fruitlessly I tried to kick off my red jogging shorts, but they were hopelessly tangled up in my sandals, and much to Wendy's delight, I managed to fall on my ass.

I shed the offending shorts, then stood brushing the dirt off. I pressed Wendy against the front fender, moaning, "Ohhhh!" as my cock nestled into the folds of her pussy. I humped a few times, letting my cock slide along her slit for lubrication before I rotated my hips to position my cock in the maw of her vagina. "Uhn!" she groaned as I jabbed deeply into her. Pumping my cock into and out of her, Wendy's passion rose quickly and she whispered hoarsely, "Ohhhh, Glen, I love you Baby, I love you, I love you."

We fucked standing up for several minutes before I withdrew. Sinking to my knees, I pulled her shorts off completely and nuzzled my face in her crotch, wallowing in her flavorful femininity. She was very aroused, her pussy lips glistening and engorged, blooming like a wet flower.

Grasping her buttocks, I pulled her open for better access, licking all around her vulva before plunging into her tasty gash.

"Oh, yes, Baby," she moaned as I rooted around snacking on her delectable snatch. Nibbling and sucking on her distended labia, I elicited moans of approval. "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," she softly groaned as I rubbed her clit with my nose while sucking on the front wall of her vagina. "Oh, damn, that feels good, Baby," she moaned as I ate her out. Soon my beard was soaking wet from her free flowing juices. She gasped when I finally sucked her distended clit into my mouth, rapidly circling the hard nubbin with my tongue.

Her thighs clamped down on my ears as her orgasm hit. As usual she was silent as she came, unable to utter a sound as she shuddered and shook, staggered by repeated blows of furious intense pleasure. When it was too much, she ripped away from me and turned towards the car.

Standing, I pushed her forward over the fender and hood. Hooking one ankle, I kicked her legs apart and shoved my cock into her ready pussy, fucking her hard from the get-go, deliberately banging on her g-spot, sending her off to a new series of climatic events. Her vagina began to clutch and contract around my cock in spasmodic convulsions, sending me over the edge too. I let it rip, pumping my seed into her as a dutiful and caring husband should.

Once I stopped cumming, we panted and collected ourselves while my cock resumed a flaccid state still embedded in her body. I had been so consumed with lust, that I was somewhat surprised to rediscover our whereabouts. I looked around to see if we were still alone and seeing no one, pulled my soft cock from her pussy, unleashing a small flood of cum to trickle down her legs.

Stepping back, I playfully slapped her on the ass, bringing up an immediate red handprint.


"Where's my lunch woman?" I demanded.

Wendy turned and hopped up on the fender, lewdly splaying her legs. "It's running down my legs," she replied with a sluttish grin.

"Ah, my favorite! Freshly fucked pussy with cum sauce!"

Like a starving man, I lapped up the product of our coupling from her legs before sucking the remainder of my cum from her sweet pussy. I made sure she enjoyed it as much as I did, assaulting her little nubbin once again after I had orally scoured her pussy thoroughly clean.

I love eating pussy and my wife loves being eaten out. However, after a few days of camping, Wendy didn't particularly enjoy the chafing caused by my facial stubble and we pretty much dispensed with cunnilingus after the first day. To resolve this issue, I decided to grow a full beard under the theory that a wooly beard would be soft and not scratchy.

Much to my delight, Wendy loved it, the soft curls of my beard adding to her sensory delight rather than distracting from it. I also discovered that after eating her out, that I could smell her on my face for hours afterwards. The constant exposure to the scent of her cunt kept me horny and increased my sexual appetite. We'd go after it again and again when camping out, having sex several times throughout the day and into the night. By the time we returned home late Sunday from a camping trip, my balls always ached so bad that it would be a few days before I needed to drain them again.

After we had lunch for real, I thought that this would be good time to retrieve a work-related training manual from my briefcase and read through the awful crap. Wendy rolled her eyes and announced that she wanted to take a nap. That was fine by me, and after she disappeared into the tent, I padded off barefoot in my red jogging shorts to the shore of the pool to read my stuff. I had discovered on our last trip an absolutely delightful spot just a short ways from our campsite. The little glade was covered with a soft grass that felt divine to lie in.

Sitting in the cool grass in the bright sunlight, I coated my tanned body with sunscreen to prevent the high altitude UV rays from cooking me. Putting aside the sunscreen, I picked up my manual and began to read where I had left off. It was dreadful reading and soon the combined effects of the boring text, a full stomach, recent sex and the warmth of the sun made me drowsy. I lay back into grass, placing the open loose-leaf binder over my face to shield my eyes from the bright sun.

I have absolutely no idea how long I was snoozing when I awoke to the feel of my jogging shorts being pulled down. Being the helpful sort, I lifted my hips to assist in the removal of my only clothing and then proceeded to lie back to enjoy whatever came next. Now Wendy loves sucking my cock almost as much as I love slurping her pussy, so none of this was a surprise, delightful but not unusual.

Soon she was kissing and nibbling my cock, bringing it quickly to a fully alert state. I groaned in pleasure as she mouthed my glans and swirled her tongue stud over the sensitive head. I couldn't help but reflect at that moment that that tongue stud was best investment in jewelry I ever made.

She opened her mouth and I felt her lips descend over my throbbing shaft of hardness, engulfing a goodly portion of my cock before her sultry lips closed around my appreciative manmeat. Pulling up slowly, she dragged her soft lips along the length of my approving dick, then descended again, this time taking in even more of my shaft. Leisurely she bobbed down and up, down and up, each time taking in a little more of my cock until I was poking the back of her throat.

She gagged a little and then took me down her throat. This was a surprise as Wendy, despite being an enthusiastic cocksucker, never managed to get over the gag reflex to deep throat me. The feeling of her throat closing around my cock as she swallowed was absolutely fantastic causing me to writhe naked in the grass, incoherently babbling about what good suck job she was doing. She pulled off, took a breath, and deep throated me again. She was sucking my dick like she'd never sucked it before. After the third trip down her throat, I had enough presence of mind to lift the notebook off my head to watch my cock completely disappear into her mouth.

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byArt Martin© 7 comments/ 84148 views/ 6 favorites

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