Hot Slutty Nudist Wife In Moldova

You may have seen my articles in 'American Archeology,' under my rubric, Dr. Hamlet Steyer. I did my undergraduate degree at Columbia University and my Ph.D. at Harvard. My academic credentials made me a fine catch for the University of Denver, where I was offered tenure as an inducement to settle there. The University underwrote the mortgage on our ranch-style home and offered a 20% grant incentive. I have been teaching for nine years and probably will continue into retirement.

Denver is a fun place to live. The mountain and abundant sunshine, which nudist love, makes life pleasant. The landscapes are picturesque. The cost of living is moderate compared to most US cities. The restaurant scene is improving, and craft beer joints are everywhere. The University of Denver's reputation keeps improving, and the students are well prepared and earnest, provided they don't spend study time toking up on legal hemp. Traffic is one bugaboo, too many damn cars, tourists, and snowy days. But all in all, living in the mile-high city is not so bad.

I decided to return to our research site in Moldova, an Eastern European country where we had begun an archaeological dig several years earlier near the village of Bacota. My colleagues advised against a return for political reasons, i.e., the Ukrainian conflict, but after a two-year slowdown caused by the pandemic of (2020-22), I was anxious to start.

We had started our research in the deep gorge outside the small village, hoping to find remnants of early man's habitation. Lakeside dwellers were a common phenomenon in the prehistory of Eastern Europe. In 1950-70 several prehistory sites in Yugoslavia were excavated. We were researching further east. Although the war in Ukraine was very concerning, local informants were confident it would not spill over into Moldova. We hoped life would return to normal and solve their political problems.

Before leaving the USA, we received vaccinations and extra shots (tetanus, etc.), so much so that I could hardly sit down or raise my arms. With the medical requirement completed, we bought our tickets and planned our return. The air flight direct from Los Angeles took about eighteen hours. The crew was relaxed, and no idiots tried to open the emergency doors or attempt to hold us as hostages.

My wife, Brenda, is a gorgeous blond with a baby doll face, big blue eyes, cupid lips, and a pair of natural tits that look like Marylyn's. She is five foot ten with a slender waist, curvy hips but not fat assed, long slender legs with just the right amount of muscle. Her vagina is so beautiful; those who have seen it are mesmerized.

The Captain seemed fascinated with her when he made the rounds of the passengers, and right away, Brenda began flirting with the pilot, who afterward made frequent rounds of the passenger area to talk with her. Finally, the Captain sent out his co-pilot and invited her to the cockpit. Brenda can explain if you ever wondered why it is called 'the cockpit.' After her hour's adventure, when she stepped over me to sit down, I saw her thong panties were missing under her short white pleated skirt. When we deplaned, I noticed the top edge of her panties folded like a handkerchief hanging from the smiling co-pilot's breast pocket.

The geology of the archeological site was a sand-encrusted shear wall extending upwards for 150 feet above an ancient lake bed. The gorge was formed as an abutment to a large glacial lake in prehistoric times. Several years ago, we built a scaffold up against the lower section of the wall. When we left, We disassembled the platform at the finish of our first research and placed it in storage. With power tools, reassembly of the scaffold was easy. Being able to climb above the lower stratification levels allowed us to rake the sandy surface of the sea wall encrusted with sea shells and assorted bleached coral.

On the last trip, we did soundings and found evidence of a cave covered with silt and soil that washed down the slopes during the rainy seasons over the previous hundred thousand years. Finding that cave was the target of our return.

Our preliminary excavation revealed that the ancient river had meandered during the last 200,000 years and was now located five kilometers to the south. In the previous 50,000 years, the gorge offered safety for a small population of ancient fishermen who constructed a tiny village on the lakefront. Remnants of fossilized wooden piers were evident where habitations once lived. The ancient lake dwellers built floors and shelters on piers at the riverside. Fishing provided easy sustenance and made trade possible with other communities further inland.

Of course, my wife Brenda insisted on accompanying me, not as an archeologist but as an avid nudist with a propensity, if given half a chance, for wild promiscuity. I documented some of her adventures in earlier stories published here on Literotica. (See my works list featuring stories of Brenda entitled: 'My Slutty Wife's Halloween Party,' 'Nude, Not Lewd, Well Maybe That Too,' and 'My Slutty Wife's Nudist Holiday.')

The village of Bacota in Moldova was close to a newly reopened nudist colony's camping facilities. We rented a trailer for living accommodation at a reasonable price of 35 Euros daily. I thought Brenda could enjoy herself at the nudist campsite while I excavated. Brenda's idea of a good time is having as much sex as possible; she prefers threesomes, sex with handsome strangers in public places (i.e., bathrooms, telephone booths), or stuffing as many male organs as possible into her roomy orifices. Although she prefers male company, she is not above participating in a lesbian adventure. Brenda says,

"Only a woman knows how to lick a twat."

Due to its border proximity, Moldova is heavily influenced by the Russian government. The people were scared of Russian interactions and fearful of any Russians who visited the modest resort. Moldova was once a Russian possession and is trying to emerge from the Soviet shadow. Its current president (a woman) has voiced interest in one day joining the European Common Market. Many citizens fear entering the EC would open them to a Soviet invasion, much like what is happening in Ukraine. It is very much a 'sword of Damocles' situation.

During our time in Moldova, it was not uncommon to see Russian missiles flying overhead, winging their way to bombard Kyiv and other cities along the Ukraine-Russian border. We heard the supersonic missiles, but they were so fast they remained invisible. Fortunately, none of these missiles fell short and hit us, a fear shared by many inhabitants. Seeing the massive military engagements, I realized that my colleagues' advice to stay home in Denver was well-considered. Perhaps my enthusiasm for the dig was not worth dying, but we were there, and I decided to make the most of it.

While I spent days working hard with several volunteers from the nearby Moldova State University, scraping the sandy gorge slopes, Brenda was frolicking at the nudist camp like a happy puppy. In the meantime, Brenda's back and butt were turning a bright red from her naked sunbathing, which didn't keep her from 'fooling around' with a German boy whose penis would qualify for 'Ripley's Believe It Or Not.' When my wife returned home that evening, she leaked sperm from every orifice.

I thought it best to accompany her to the camp shower facility with a bar of soap purchased at the utility store. I got into the shower with her under the water spray and helped wash her down. I used a small rubber vaginal irrigator to get the residual sperm out of her private parts.

Since it was getting late, I suggested we get dinner at the commissary. The restaurant served wood fire broiled Branzino, a tasty local fish seasoned with salt and pepper and stuffed with sauteed onions. After we finished dinner, we returned to our camper and listened to the BBC on our tiny short-wave receiver. Then I massaged Brenda's back. When my arms were tired, I could see she was still restless.

"Brenda, what is the matter? You seem agitated tonight, not at all sleepy. Talk to me."

'Yes, my love, you know me so well, I could never leave you. You give me the freedom to pursue whatever perversions exist, and you never complain or question me."

"So what is the matter?"

"You know that German boy I pointed out to you, the one watching us in the shower."

"Yes, he seemed very interested in you. Is that the guy you've been fucking?"

"Yes, he is a nice boy, 22 years old, just graduated from Engineering School. He asked me to return to Germany with him."

"And what did you say?"

"I just giggled and put him off, but he demanded an answer, grabbed me roughly, and practically raped me; he was so angry."

"Disappointed, I imagine."

"He is nice, but we have little in common. He is starting employment in a large German auto company, and he knows nothing of art or literature, and his view of minorities was not very wholesome."

"That's odd; the younger generation is usually very liberal?"

"Eric is not strikingly handsome as some tourists here are, but his penis is phenomenal. It fills my vag so tightly that I think it is growing inside me. He fucks me so many times in a day that I have to ask him to go anal when my pussy gets sore."

"That's unusual for you; I recall when you had too much wine and afterward took on all the men in a coffee bar in Naples, excluding no one."

"Oh, you are embarrassing me; I was raw and red after that foolish spectacle.'

"You are lucky you didn't catch anything."

"I know, it was stupid, but so much fun, and their cocks were all so different."

"You are what you are, Brenda, a magnificent whore, and just being around you, loving you, fucking you is all I ask. Are you going back to Germany with this big cock Eric?"

"No, Eric would never give me the freedom I require, and anyway, he is leaving in the morning; his last angry sex put an end to it for me."

"Maybe it's all for the best, my darling."

"Your story has got me horny, but you are too sore for me to fuck you?

"You got that right, but you can put your big cock between my ass cheeks, and with a bit of lube, you can finish there, just stay out of my sore asshole.

When Brenda rolled over, I squirted a little lube between her ass cheeks and a dab on my cock and balls. I got on her ass and positioned myself for this pseudo-sex act. The pleasure of this position is as the testicles slide between her rump cleavage, producing the effect of a prostate massage. It took only a short while to set off my copious ejaculation. I pulled out just in time to cum into a towel.

Doing as she suggested, it was a great release for my clogged-up balls, but when I pulled out, I dripped some cum on her ass cheeks. I quickly wiped it away,

"I don't want to dirty you up before you sleep."

But my drips left a 'sperm shine' on her gorgeous ass that Eric would notice in the morning. I figured they'd have a quicky in the bus station bathroom when she saw him off. If he knew she was having sex with another, in this case, her husband, the young man might realize she was not the perfect companion to take back to Germany.

I appreciated the opportunity for sexual release that night and was more relaxed confronting my helpers in the morning. I was content that the students and I were progressing at the dig, and I didn't mind that Brenda was enjoying her dalliance with assorted guys at the campsite. This concept of an open marriage had kept us together for the past ten years, and even big-cocked Eric presented no threat.

After a few days, Brenda noticed an influx of high Russian officials at the nudist camp, replacing the German campers we'd grown accustomed to on our last trip. The campsite was now buzzing with uniformed Russians. Since none of us spoke Russian, we didn't understand what was happening. We weren't sure how to deal with this situation and feared being outed as American spies, arrested, and bartered back to the US in a spy swap like that female basketball player. I cautioned Brenda not to speak English around the Russians. As she was fluent in German, we hoped to pass as a German tourist.

The military personnel had arrived in large jeep-like vehicles, Russian knock-offs of the older wartime military Mercedes models. Brenda's friends said the soldiers were clearing a nearby wooded site for a helicopter landing. Brenda followed my advice and befriended a college student (age 20) who seemed to know what was happening. Brenda described Giorgi as having a very short but thick penis.

"When he fucked me, it was like someone had shoved a beer can in my pussy. He spoke some English, and told me something unusual was about to happen in the camp and advised me to stay out of sight and be careful."

Brenda's idea of being careful was to spend the next few days out of sight in the student's tent with his thick beer can stuck in her quim. Now that the Engineer had departed, she'd found a new penis as her play toy.

Brenda was amazed at how the 'Beer Can Guy' could recharge and have sexual relations several times on the same day. Feeling deprived, 'Beer Can's' girlfriend asked to join their sex play. When Brenda was sitting akimbo on 'Beer Can's chest, his paramour, Heidi, walked in on them and began rimming Brenda's butt hole.

"The girl had a tongue so long and thick," said Brenda, "It was almost a penis, and it felt delicious."

I enquired who Hedi was. Brenda pointed out the big-tongued big-breasted blond in the campsite's grocery store. Heidi looked like a German milkmaid. I got a little jealous of Brenda's going on when I saw how attractive Hedi was. I wished I was on vacation rather than on a work mission so that I might join in the fun.

Every nudist campsite has its lifestyle, but the older nudists are more conservative and less into sex play, preferring to sunbathe, read, or swim. Many younger nudist campers are into group sex with multiple partners, and I would have joined in with them in a Denver minute.

There is something magical about being in the middle of a group sex event when you are in the throes of intercourse with a beautiful woman who lies on a bed or couch. You are actively thrusting your erection into her vagina between her widespread legs, just about ready to ejaculate, when out of nowhere, an attractive young man spies your unprotected butt and throws his arms around your waist as his penis penetrates your asshole, holding you tight as you both thrust in unison like a well-oiled machine until his cock explodes. His arms tighten around your waist, giving you no chance to escape as he fills your asshole with his spunk at the exact moment you shoot your load into your lady's vagina to conclude your sexual performance. As the penetrator releases you, you fall forward into the woman's warm, soft breasts, the gracious 'rapist' slips away, and you never learn who has been fucking you so beautifully.

Awaiting to clean yourself, you make your way to one of the bathrooms and hang your cock over the porcelain sink, stretching the flaccid member so every crevice can welcome the cool water filling the bowl to rinse away the sperm and vaginal secretions so you feel clean again. Then there is that gentle burning in your butt, maybe his cum deposited deep inside or some rough thrusts your one-time lover gave without pre-lubing you.

With relief, You sit on the wooden toilet seat and piss urine and cloudy white bubbly sperm. You bare down to expel the sticky cum your intestines have already digested, and you realize some molecular entity of that unknown lover will metabolize and become a part of your body for who knows how long. You wipe away the creamy expulsion with a piece of paper towel someone left in the booth and enter the glassed-in shower stall, wet with water droplets from a previous bather, to scrub away any trace of this unholy coupling. You are ready to leave, but you must hunt your wife, and you find her in the middle of a busy group of men's penises, one of whom may have been fucking you a half hour before.

The following week, the sky darkened, and the weather changed precipitously; the warm days became so windy that it blew down tents. We wore warmer jackets and dust masks at the dig site but continued chipping and scraping, hoping the rain would not disrupt our efforts.

I was optimistic that we might find more items of interest, and on the fourth day of scraping, the sand gave way to a dark organic substratum that appeared to of decomposed wood. I hoped we would discover the hidden cave that the echo soundings two years ago indicated lay deeper into the embankment. One student raked a pocket of dark soft soil from under the sand and, when washed, revealed to our excitement several blue turquoise beads with hand-drilled holes. Knowing that the only site for Turquoise was 70 kilometers west, it suggested early trading between the two areas.

My excitement over our progress at the archeological site was apparent to Brenda, but so was my exhaustion after the long workdays. Brenda would edge closer to me on the camper's hard mattress. While it was our practice to have sex at least once or twice a week, I was tired after the arduous work schedule. After a dinner of bread and salami and a bottle or two of excellent bottled beer, I fell fast asleep before I could satisfy my wife's nocturnal needs, even though she attempted to jerk me off to encourage a sexual performance.

Unfortunately for both of us, I started to fall asleep. I knew Brenda would make up for my lack of sexual vigor the next day with her playmates; I leaned back and, a moment later, was gently snoring. My sleep was not disturbed by the familiar buzz of her battery-operated super turbo vibrator dildo that replaced me, and hearing it, I knew all was right in the world. Knowing the plug-in dildos would depend on the campsite's electricity, which was sketchy, I was glad Brenda had opted for the battery-independent model.

The morning's bright light always came too soon, and my shoulders and arms were still tired from the exercise of the day before. Since it was Sunday, a day of rest, I accompanied Brenda on her rounds at the nudist camp. We noticed armed guards with Sten guns stationed at the camp's periphery. The guards saluted us, winking at me; it seemed everyone knew Brenda.

I wondered if these were the culprit of the previous day when Brenda had returned home with telltale streaks of sperm running down her chin onto her breasts and leaking cum from both ends of her body.

"Dear Wifey, what the fuck have you been up to," I asked, handing her a towel to sit on.

"Oh, Hamy, the soldiers invited me to climb into the hatch of their big iron tank and descend into the narrow confines of the vehicle. I figured it would be interesting to see how these tank soldiers lived. Once inside, I saw they had papered the inside of the vehicle with hundreds of nude pinups; most of the clipping showed the girl's vaginas, and others were downright pornographic with cocks entering vaginas or women's assholes. Maybe that was why the guys were so horny? I was getting horny myself looking at them. When two additional guys climbed in after me and closed the turret door behind them, I figured I was in for it."

"One young soldier, probably 22 years old, spoke a little broken English."

"Missy," he said, "We are tired of jerking off. Could you let us fuck you? We heard you are a very hot chick."

"What could I do? My fear of being raped disappeared when he spoke in such earnest. I told the three guys to undress. I positioned myself on the narrow cot attached with metal chains to the sidewall of the mechanical monster."

"They thought they would fuck me individually, but I had a different idea. The first guy had a very large cock covered with a thick foreskin, the color of chicken skin, with two small balls tightly fitted in his scrotum. I suppose it had been a while since he'd been in the company of a willing subject, and he seemed in a rush to fuck me.