Camping

After a moment, she leaned back, her pussy still wrapped on top of my cock, and said, "Well, thank you for that! Now, let's make sure you're clean as well." Reaching over to where I'd put the soap and sponge, she said, "Turn around," and as I did, leaning against the wall as she had, she started with the same sponging. I was out of the water's flow, while she was standing under the shower, getting rinsed in the process of sudsing me. It felt great, having my back scrubbed vigorously, then my legs from the knees upwards (obeying her nudging my legs further apart), then my buns, and finally I felt her hands rather than the sponge, repeating the track over my now invigorated skin. At first it just felt good, then she kneaded my ass cheeks and finally started dipping between them. I jerked in reflex as I felt her hand rim my ass, and then relaxed again, barely, as she cradled my scrotum in her hand. She rolled the balls around with her fingers, not too tightly but firmly enough to keep my undivided attention, and then reached further under and grasped my shaft for a moment.

"Turn around, big guy," she said, and I did, my soapy cock standing straight and tilted upwards. I'm average sized, I think - a tad over six inches at best but never to six and a half, and not noticeably thin or thick for that length, to my eye. I'm circumcised, and it all works fine. I appreciated the "big guy" comment, but took it as slang rather than as description.

She, however, may have meant it otherwise. Once I was standing facing her, my shoulders against the wall, my feet slightly away from it, she took to stroking again, this time more intentionally. "My, you have a wonderful organ here, mister - a bit bigger than I'm used to, but not too much so, and it's gotten so hard! A girl just loves it when she makes this sort of thing happen, you know." I couldn't tell if that was pure flattery or some mixture of truth, but wasn't going to quibble, just enjoyed the ego burst. Meanwhile, over and over she stroked, pulling a bit on the outs, squeezing a bit on the ins. I knew I wasn't going to last long, and told her, "I'm almost there - you should stop that before . . . "

"Really? Oh, well, then..." she mock-pouted, but immediately stopped, rinsed the suds off her hand, and stepped out of the shower before I could quite register what was happening (very little blood left in the brain by that time).

Damn! I'd meant that as a notification, not poorly stated as a suggestion, but now was left, standing alone in the shower, still soapy mostly all over, standing tall, and mightily frustrated. The surprise left me dumbfounded, but I did what was in order, rinsing off, my dick staying mostly hard but somewhat deflated by the sudden stoppage of what it was loving.

Stepping out of the shower, I was quick enough to catch the towel she tossed at me as she was finishing drying herself. "Come on up to the lodge after you're through here, ok?" she smiled at me as she started to don her few clothes. "Oh, and I hope that thing will be ok - after all, you did tell me I should stop, and I always strive to do what my men want me to do."

"I think I'll survive, and I'll come up to the lodge, but it may take a big to talk my friend here into returning to a low profile, thanks to your getting him all energized."

"Well, you could always satisfy him yourself, I'm sure. But I think you and he will both be happier if you continue to defer that gratification, and I just might be willing to make that only a temporary deferral. Ta - ta!"

And with that, she strolled out of the bath house, leaving me and my disappointed dick to ourselves. I wasn't about to beat off after all that, much as I was being asked to by my friend. So I shaved at the sink, finished drying, dressed in the clean shorts (commando, I'd neglected to pack underwear for the short walk, but it didn't seem that I'd need them) and camp shirt and sandals, and headed back to my camp to drop off the other items.

-------------

At the tent, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon I'd packed, along with the Cabernet I'd planned for my dinner. I didn't know if I'd want either or both, but figured the shower interlude was certainly worth the bourbon (I wasn't sure whether it would be for Jim or for Sandy, but I knew it would be thanks to Sandy), and if we dined together, the wine would be a good thing to have brought as well. Everything considered, I at least owed Jim a good glass of bourbon anyway. I wondered if she'd told him anything, and if so, what, and of course, what his reaction had been. If I met a double barrel, I'd have no one but myself to blame (ok, and maybe a bit of her, but it's not like I was fighting kicking and screaming back in the shower). And what was that bit about John and Anne? Had I interrupted something and was now being drafted as a pinch hitter or something? No doubt, I had plenty to mull over as I trekked up the hill to the lodge.

Sandy appeared on the lodge porch, now dressed in a cream white linen dress that buttoned from its calf-length hem to collar. Her hair was pulled back in a (practical yet girlish) pony tail, and she was barefoot. Altogether, quite a vision. It took me only the first glance to see that the hem part was unbuttoned to a bit above her knees, and the collar part was to right between her breasts - both amounts facilitating either total modesty or tantalizing views, depending on her posture. She was clearly in control, and her freshly brushed out hair and just the tiniest bit of makeup made her a vision indeed - all healthy and fresh air and fuckable (oops, there went that brain blood drain again - as far as I knew, her claims of Jim's open mindedness were wildly exaggerated, and I knew I'd better play it straight until that corroboration came, if ever). At least it wasn't Jim with that double barrel.

"Hi, trail blazer!" she called as I mounted, er, climbed up the steps to the porch,

"Hi, blazerette," I countered, and we smiled. She moved quickly into me, planted a kiss on my cheek, turned, or rather twirled about and headed into the lodge. I followed, still sorting out feelings and facts. As she strode away, I thought I could see the outline of bikini panties through the thin linen, and as she walked, with me scrambling to keep up behind, the light shone through and I could see the silhouette of her legs as well. What a great dress, I thought, but said, "Here's a bit of libation I thought we might share." I caught up with her, rounding the corner into the spacious kitchen. "Is Jim back yet?"

"Oh yes, he's showered himself and is changing, I think. And no doubt, you're wondering about that potential corroboration, right?"

"Well, busted again, I guess," I smiled back, still not really at ease with all this.

"Mmm . . . that's some fine bourbon you've got here, mister. Let's have some!" she laughed and opened a cabinet to get glasses. As she reached up on tiptoe, I got a nice view of her ass.

Two double shot bourbons with a touch of water in our hands and another poured and waiting for Jim on the counter, Sandy bade me sit while she sliced an apple and put it with crackers and cheeses on a platter. I was on a barstool behind the kitchen's island. She leaned over to offered me some, bending over to give me ample opportunity to see that she was wearing a peach colored bra that shaped and exposed a good bit of breasts that looked wonderful as the linen fell free from them.

Watching me take in the view, she laughed, "Nothing you haven't seen before, and recently!"

"Well, the bra is new to me, and lovely. And I certainly never tire of seeing cleavage, particularly the particularly beautiful kind. Isn't it amazing how a bit of clothing makes the sight of the body underneath seem all the more forbidden and delicious!"

"Forbidden and delicious? 'Sounds like I'm missing a great conversation!" said Jim, entering from the hallway. I rose, and we three gathered at the kitchen island.

"Tom here was just looking down my dress and commenting on how clothes make the view more, as he said, forbidden and delicious." Sandy was clearly enjoying all of this, while I was on edge, taking in every nuance of Jim's response to gauge his reaction, whatever his words.

"Well, she is delicious, I'll agree to that," Jim replied. Then, after a pause, "As for the forbidden part, she tells me that, since we've discussed opening up things a bit, in her opinion, you're just the right guy for the task."

Well, nothing like getting his cards on the table! "Sort of a big step, I'd think. And one I don't want to be part of if it's going to be a problem with you two," I said, meaning it.

"Yeah, big step. But one that I think I can handle, and one she's certainly able and apparently willing to try."

"Well, let's see how things go, then, with no set agenda," I suggested, "and if at any time either of you, or I, for that matter, want to put a halt to whatever, let's all agree to that being ok - ok?"

"Right," Jim said.

"Fine with me," Sandy said.

"OK, now, a toast - to friends present and future!" I offered.

And we all took hearty drinks of the bourbon.

Dinner followed, and nothing more was said about directions or much otherwise. Jim and I were both provided ample views of Sandy as she hostessed about, and after a pretty light repast, but with ample amounts of chardonnay (they graciously accepted my red and stowed it), we retired to the lodge living room with refreshed glasses of bourbon, the three of us feeling very pleasant. The room had a fireplace (the fire not really required in the warm weather, but still, burning somewhat low). Facing the fire about 6 or 8 feet back was an arc of furniture: two big leather upholstered easy chairs flanking a padded and also leather upholstered bench, all on thick throw rugs of various compositions. Easy for gathering around a fire with five, maybe six being seated in the semicircle. Jim put on some soft jazz CD, and started to dance with Sandy. I sat and watched, and they moved comfortably together, more of the familiar two-step than any set fanciness. He had his hands low on her back, his fingers stretching to where her ass curved out, while she had both arms around his neck. They kissed and embraced that way, seemingly oblivious of me, and that was fine. I was just enjoying them, enjoying themselves.

After a round of Frank Sinatra doing "Strangers in the Night," Willie Nelson's rendition of "Stardust" came on, a favorite of mine. "Your turn," Jim said, and I rose to the offer as he moved to toss a couple more logs on the fire.

Sandy put her arms around me, same as she'd done with Jim, and I wrapped her in my arms, closer than I'd have normally done in a first dance with a lady, but it just seemed appropriate. She pretty much melted into my body with hers, my thigh nudged between her thighs, one of her thighs pressing my crotch. I could feel her breasts pressed into my lower chest, and her 5'7" or so height fit well so that she rested her head in the crook of my neck and shoulder. As we moved, barely, about, I could detect her pushing her hips against mine, and the filling of my cock in my shorts. Soon, I knew it would have to be detectable to her as well, and she made no move to avoid it.

"What a nice way to start an evening," she murmured, and as I looked down at her, she raised her face and we kissed, not passionately yet, but in exploration. Her lips were as soft as I'd hoped, and I was glad I'd shaven closely. After a moment, I felt her tongue reach out, between my lips, and the kiss graduated from hello there, to hello!

We stopped dancing and just stood, kissing, her fingers in my hair now, one of my arms around her, one naturally dropping to pull her closer, my fingers finding the top of the valley between her lovely buttocks, pressing on that lovely bone there to clutch her to me.

Realizing what we were doing, I broke the kiss to lean back, not letting her go, but enough to turn my head to see Jim's reaction. He was sitting in an easy chair, smiling and sipping another bourbon.

"Don't stop on my account," he said genially. "She's a great kisser as you're finding out, and I don't get the chance to watch her doing it when I'm the kissee. Please, continue - I'm fine just watching, at least for now."

OK, corroboration continuing, I thought, and returned to the kiss. Our tongues were darting and dancing on their own now, interspersed with nibbles of lips. I leaned down, pulled her collar away a bit and sucked gently at the side of her neck, then was granted an "Mmmmm" for my efforts. By now, my cock was pretty much full on,

Turning her, I looked and saw Jim sitting back in a chair, smiling. He was also casually stroking his crotch through his shorts, all us being fully dressed. Turning again, I reflected a moment on what seemed to be turning into my very good fortune, as I felt Sandy slip her hand, the one away from Jim's view, down and between us, just a stroke, but definitely a stroke that traced my again hard cock's outline. "Mmmm..." she murmured, and returned to hands behind my neck, body pressed to mine.

"How's it going up there?" Jim asked from his lower vantage point.

"Might need some assistance - there's an awful lot of wonderfulness here to dance with," I replied, trying to keep him engaged in the goings on. I figured he was the real key - she'd already shown me her willingness, as well as her charms, and she knew I was all for it from the pressure my dick was applying below. If Tom was good with it, fine. If for some reason he wised up to the idea that a stranger was messing with his wife, and got all macho or at least a little protective about it, the whole venture would be off, and I'd willingly (ok, not so willingly) let it go, return to my camping, and fade into their "the time it almost happened" fantasies. So, I had to keep Tom happy, and how better to do that than with a willing female?

Tom picked up on the offer and joined us. He stood pressed against her back as we sandwiched her. No more dancing, just swaying, my hands now on her hips, her arms around me, Tom's hands on her shoulders. As I nuzzled one side of her neck, I think he was doing the other, and her "Mmmm" of earlier turned into an "Aaahhhhhh..."

We continued to sway, slowly mutually stroking, as her hand reached down and grasped me again. "My, you both seem to be all excited," she said, her voice now lowered to a sultry Lauren Bacall sort of thing. I figured she was grabbing Tom's cock behind her with her other hand but didn't really know.

"Tom," she continued, "we've talked about this sort of thing. Are you still ok with this?"

"Can't you feel that I am?" he answered, and she chuckled.

"Oh, yes, so I can! But are you ready for another step?"

"Absolutely," he replied, and stepped back, pulling at her shoulder so she turned to him. I didn't know quite where this was going, so I just let my hands rest on her hips. He leaned in and kissed her, and she reached back for my erection to hold it as he unbuttoned her dress all the way down, then turned her back to me. The gap in the open dress exposed the center of her bra and her lace panties, then he pulled it off her shoulders and she stood in just the lingerie, truly a beautiful vision to me.

The bra was barely a demi - embroidered a bit, but mostly sheer, just more than a half cup, so I could see the outline of her nipples semi-concealed at the edge of the cups. Her breasts rounded above that. Further down, the same color revealed nothing of the hair I'd seen earlier, but was at an angle such that I figured it was just opaque.

"Is that enough corroboration?" she asked me, her eyes atwinkle. "It looks like someone thinks so," she continued, looking down at my camp shorts bulging.

"Yeah, but we may need to revisit that as we proceed," I cautioned, drinking in as much of her as I could for future memories.

"Quid pro quo, as Starling might say," she teased, and reached out to me, unbuttoning my camp shirt, sliding it off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor behind me. Then she turned and did the same, pulling Jim's polo shirt off and tossing it aside. I was relieved to see that Jim was no more buff than I, and that we were both in pretty good shape from what I could tell in waist-up comparisons. He was shorter than my even six feet, by a couple of inches, and he was more hirsute, sporting a thicker chest of hair. I'm a dark blond, I guess, with a chest that has enough hair, but not as much as his. If Sandy was really into hairy guys, I figured she'd been disappointed in the shower, but since she didn't seem so, I wondered, contrarily, if a bit of a change of pace might be a plus in my favor.

"Now that's a lot closer to the way I like to see my men," she smiled, turning back to me and asking, "Another dance?" as if my saying no could be a possibility.

I didn't reply, but pulled her gently to me, loving the feel of her bra cups against my chest.

"Quid pro quo," Jim called out. "We're here bare-chested, and you seem to be all covered up!" If that was covered up, I was blind, but wasn't one to argue his point.

"Mind?" I asked, unclipping her bra in the back, then slipping the straps off her shoulders. Now the only thing keeping it up was that our chests were pushed together, frustrating gravity.

"No, I suppose not," she said, and stepped back for just long enough for the bra to fall to the floor and for me to get another good look at her magnificent breasts. They were heaving just a bit with her breathing, but mostly just standing there, beckoning with their hardened nipples and lovely contours. While I'd seen them earlier in the wet t-shirt, and could have paid more attention in the shower if it weren't for her lower assets occupying my focus, now I took the time. 36Bs, maybe Cs, nicely firm and with just enough mass to drag them down just enough to look like a woman's, not a girl's, breasts. All curves, and well separated, almost crying out for a couple of hands to hold them. So I did, cupping them one in each hand, and rolling the nipples gently to gauge her response. She smiled, closing her eyes, and just swaying while I groped.

"Top drawer, wouldn't you say?" Jim asked, reminding me of his presence.

"Oh yes, absolutely," I replied, kneading just a bit firmer and being rewarded by her leaning her head back, presenting her smooth throat to me. I leaned in and sucked, again gently - not one for leaving marks, but she brought out the hunger in me - eliciting a moan of pleasure from her. Closing in a bit more, I pressed the bulge of my cock against her as I continued to learn about her breasts, and I felt her push back and rub side to side against my erection.

"These look to be in the way," Jim said. I'd lost track of him again - something about priorities, and realized he'd come up behind her again and now had knelt and pulled her panties down to the floor. She stepped out of them and he tossed them aside, standing behind her again and pulling her away so I could look again.

This time, I could see, she'd shaved, completely. Something Jim no doubt knew was new and that he no doubt wanted to show to me. She wasn't cheating on him, for sure - it now seemed more like he was taking ownership by expressing his power to share it. Convoluted, but made sense to me at the time. There was an element of salacious, an element of youth, an element of blatant desire. Her pussy seemed a bit swollen, the lips concealed completely, just the slit at the apex of her legs, just below the slightest swell of belly. The presentation invited being captured by an artist, but I knew my memory wouldn't need anyone else's contribution.

"Absolutely, stunningly gorgeous - you're a way fortunate man," I said sincerely, looking from her to him.

"Quid pro quo, Doctors Lecter," she quipped, and turned to Jim, kneeling and loosening, then dragging down his shorts. His cock emerged about 3/4 hard, I guessed, surprising me, since I was fully engorged by then. I recalled he hadn't had as much rubbing as I'd gotten during the dance, and registered that he seemed, at least so far, a bit smaller than I in the cock department - in that state approaching five so far if I'm six plus a bit, and while not fully covered, still soft enough to show he wasn't circumcised. Unless he was much more of a grower, I figured I did outsize him, as Sandy had indicated in the shower. He looked a little thicker for the length, and I couldn't tell if he'd be thicker than I when at full mast. Ego satisfied for the moment at least, I turned my attention back to Sandy as she rose to her feet and stroked him, sliding the skin back along his shaft, and getting the expected reaction of his lengthening and rising upwards.