The Dare Ch. 02

We sat around sipping on our wine. It had become hot in the van, and Hazel got up and opened all the windows and the side door. She checked the flyscreens were all tight. Scared bugs would overrun us. As she returned and sat between us, Don asked Hazel why she had not told him about her University days before.

"I was afraid. I didn't want to lose you, so I didn't say anything. Then, after we were married, it wasn't something I was terribly proud of, and honestly, I didn't want to bring it up. If you had asked me directly if there had ever been someone else, I might have told you some of it."

Don and I almost simultaneously exclaimed, "Wish I had been at University with you."

Hazel turned to me, "Why? Would you like to have met Trudy?"

"I was more thinking about the fact there were no gangbangs when I was in my teens. But Yes, I would have liked to have met Trudy."

Then, seeing that Hazel gave me a puzzled, questioning look, I answered,

"I've always been attracted to stuck-up, strait-laced, untouchable women. I guess I see them as a real challenge. In my experience, when you get them into bed, they are real fire-brands and often quite insatiable. So Trudy sounds just my sort of woman."

Don piped up, "You wouldn't want to meet her now. She's anti-sex; Brett, her husband, never gets it. He's always complaining, and if we're out with them and our conversation ever strays onto sex, she throws a sulky fit. Doesn't she, Hazel?"

"Yes, She's a bit uncomfortable with her past. I've tried to discuss things with her several times when we were alone, but she will have none of it. She even tells me I must be thinking of another girlfriend."

"Will you tell us a bit more about that year?" I asked.

Hazel hesitated; she looked nervously at Don, then relaxed her shoulders. She seemed to resign herself to the fact she had to finish telling the narrative. "I know you won't let up until I've told you everything. But I'm not happy about this. I've kept it locked away for so long, and it really should have remained that way."

Don leaned against her, hugged her, and said he understood. But he needed to know everything now and that he could handle anything she had done, as it was all long in the past.

"Where was I up to?" she asked.

I answered quickly, in case Don gave the wrong answer. "You had just been bent over the couch that Trudy and Ashram had moved into the centre of the lounge."

"Oh God, this is going to sound pretty debauched, guys. You really want me to go on?"

Immediately, two eager idiots were nodding their heads right beside her. She swung her head from one side to the other, taking in our keen puppy dog expressions, before hanging her head and taking up where she had left off.

"Did I explain that they positioned me kneeling on the couch, with my elbows over the low back? The guy behind me was trying to do anal, and I couldn't tell him 'No' as Ben was holding my head tight and fucking my mouth. But I snapped my hips to the side every time he touched me there, and he finally got the message and put it in the right place."

"Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ashram positioning Trudy alongside me, and while he was doing her from behind, she started playing with my tits. I don't remember all the details of what followed, but we were shared by other guys in the room. Trudy surprised me in that she loved anal, and two of the guys did her at the same time. You know, what we just did before. Some of them tried again to get me to do that, but I made it plain that I was not into anal."

Don asked, "What about the other girl that was there?"

"A couple of guys took her to the bedroom, and others went in there with her during the night. I don't remember her really. I'm unsure if she stayed the night or left before we did."

"Why did you not like anal?" I asked.

"An uncle did that to me, and he hurt me. I mean, it really hurt." She paused, "Well, he wasn't actually an uncle, just a friend of my father's, but we called him uncle. It was long before I lost my virginity and in my bed at home. I don't think he came back to our place after that."

"Did you tell your mother?" I asked.

"Hell no! I've never told a soul about that, not even Trudy. It has been weighing on my conscience for years. My parents would have blamed me. They were very strict. I could never have told them."

Don again reached over and cuddled Hazel. "You could have told me. I would have understood, you know." He gave her a minute, then asked, "Did you go to any more parties?"

"Oh yes, the boys had a party at least once a month. I think Trudy and I attended most of them after that night. You see, it was a club. It had been running for a long time. As the guys left Uni, others replaced them. The four main protagonists always lived in the house. Pete had lived there, but when he finished Uni the year before, another guy had taken his place."

"I wondered if Pete was at the party when you said it was the same house?" I butted in.

"Yes, I'm glad he wasn't there. I still hate him and wonder sometimes about running into him somewhere."

Don piped up, "Do you mean it was a University Club? Did the Uni know what was going on there?"

"No, funnily enough, I don't think many people knew about it. Indeed, others knew the guys lived there and that they had some pretty raunchy parties. You could never have kept that secret. But it worked because there were only a dozen or so members, each joining different Uni groups and taking girls along they thought might be likely candidates.

"They would date them a few times, sleep with them, then bring them to a party when they thought they may be ready. Many of the girls that turned up at the parties left as soon as they realised what was happening, but at most parties at least one stayed."

Then she added another thought, "Really Pete 'according to their rules', should not have taken me to that party the year before, as he had not slept with me. I guess he had tried it on so often he just thought, 'What the fuck'. I think Pete's father may have owned the house. I'm not certain of that, but I saw him collecting the rent once while visiting Ben."

"How did the guys get to join the club?" I asked. Thinking that I would have enjoyed belonging to a club like that.

Hazel thought for a bit. "I'm not absolutely sure, but I think one of the members would befriend a guy whose girlfriend he fancied. Then, over time, I would talk to the guy about sharing his girlfriend. I'm sure most guys would get offended, and nothing would happen. But there must have been some that showed an interest, as there was usually at least one new guy and his girlfriend at the parties."

"I remember one party where there were three new couples, but one by one, all the girls chickened out and pulled their boyfriends out of the party in disgust. That is what happened most of the time. But if the girlfriend participated, the guy would show up at future parties, with or without her. So I'm pretty sure that was their right to admission and how they got new members."

"You said Trudy, and you went to all the other parties that year. Were there other girls that went to every party?" I asked.

"Not really. There were a couple that turned up more than once, mostly the ones that came with their boyfriend. But the girls that were seduced into coming with the club member, mostly, it was a one-off, just like I had been the year before. As for the boyfriends, I noticed they all turned up thinking it was going to be great having an orgy, only to find that they got insanely jealous as soon as their girlfriend fucked another guy.

"Ashram and Trudy broke up after that first party. He couldn't handle it. I'm sure he wanted to return, but he forbade Trudy to attend again, and she dumped him. When I talked to Ben about it, he said that Ashram had been blacklisted, as he was only likely to cause trouble."

"How come you two went to all the parties then?" I asked again.

"I got on well with Ben. It's not like he was my boyfriend or anything, more like 'friends with benefits'. He liked us to be there, as more girls would stay and participate if they were not the only girls there. Also, I liked giving blowjobs, and Trudy liked anal. I guess that got us a few brownie points with the whole gang. I probably would have bailed again after that first party, but Trudy loved it. She insisted it was her one blow-out year and she would never get the opportunity again, and so didn't want to miss a party."

"Will you tell me some details of the other parties?" asked Don.

"If you want, but not now. I can see Dave's eyes drooping, and I'm tired also."

So I tidied myself up and made to leave. But Hazel stopped me and asked for my details. I gave her my email and mobile. Then she asked about my address, as they may call in and say hello on their way back south. I also gave her that, thinking I would never see or hear from them again. I then wandered back to my van.

I slept the sleep of the dead, better than I had slept in years. My bed takes up the whole back of the van. I could make it up as two singles, but at 6'1", the double size is far more comfortable.

I always wake as the sun rises, around 5:15 am at this time of year.

I stretched and spread out, watching the golden dawn rays creep around my curtains. I thought about putting on an eye mask to try and get another hour or so's sleep. I was feeling mellow and did not feel like getting up at this early hour. But I needed a piss.

The back door opened as I lay there, summoning the energy to make the move. I had not locked it in my sleepy state the night before. And in crawled Hazel, wearing a dressing gown and slippers. She gave me a hell of a fright, but I recovered very quickly, noting that as she slipped out of the dressing gown and crawled under my covers, she had nothing else on.

"You are not meant to be here without Don. I told him last night that the two of you must be honest with each other and never go sleeping around behind the other's back."

"I know," she exclaimed, "But he's fast asleep, and I'm fucking horny. He'll understand. I'll tell him everything."

She burrowed down beside me and took my morning hard in her hand.

"I need to relieve myself. Don't start without me." And I awkwardly maneuvered myself past her and out the back door. I have a toilet in the van, but trying to go when you have a massive hard-on in that tight little space is nigh on impossible. There would be more pee on the ceiling than in the bowl. So, with one leg up on the step, balancing precariously on my other leg, I pointed Percy towards the ground and let fly.

I got back inside and had to kiss Hazel to stop her laughing. She had enjoyed the sight of me trying to pee with a full hard-on. When she had calmed down, she pushed me on my back and swallowed my 'now' limp cock. It didn't stay flaccid for long. I was pretty proud of myself that he would rise to the occasion so quickly after the night before's activities.

Once hard, she mounted me, and her hips started to writhe around. Her face twisted with concentration on the feelings she was generating between her legs. I had no problem lasting the journey; in fact, I wondered if I had any seed left in me. But the body is an amazing thing, and as she moved towards her climax, so too did I.

Her rotating hips became thrashing hips. Then the shudder. The long, stomach-convulsing shudder that told me she was there. I had been roughly manipulating her sensitive breasts but had to slip a hand up and over her mouth, or she would have woken the camp, the back door of my van being wide open. What a way to start the day; there was not a cloud in the sky.

As our arousal subsided, I removed my hands and let her slump down beside me. "You really should get back to Don before he wakes. He will not handle you sneaking over here very well at all," I whispered in her ear.

"Your right, but I'm still horny," she replied.

"Well, go and wake Don, as you have just woken me." I pushed her up and out towards the door, then threw the dressing gown at her.

She leaned in and blew me a brief kiss, then slipped onto the damp grass before slipping on her dressing gown and hurried off.

I hurriedly got myself up, and without making the bed or having breakfast, I put away some loose items and drove off. I had intended to visit a couple more places that day, but I drove straight home, as I wanted to get in front of my computer and put down as much of the wonderful adventure that had just happened. 

----

That should be the end of the story, and I thought it would have been. But two days later, I saw their motorhome come to a standstill at the bottom of my drive. It was early on a Monday morning, and I felt a decided rush of pleasure as Hazel walked up the drive towards me. She was wearing a short green skirt and a loose light green blouse, and I was sure she was not wearing a bra. Don was with her, but I must admit, I hardly noticed him.

'Fuck!' I thought, 'I can't be this lucky again.' I guided them into my lounge and then asked what their plans were. They had driven through to Hatfields Beach late the night before and slept there.

Hatfields is only about twenty minutes from my place, hence their arriving so early in the morning. They informed me that they both started back at work on Wednesday and so had to be home in Wellington the following night. They wondered about staying the night with me, then driving back to Wellington all day Tuesday.

"Not a good idea, a huge trip to do in one day and added to that, the traffic from here into the city on any weekday morning is horrendous. You need to leave here around 4:00 this afternoon and drive to somewhere like Cambridge. It's a beautiful place, and although you will still need to be away early, you will have a much more pleasant drive down to Wellington from there."

Don replied that they had stayed in Cambridge on the way up, so yes, that it was a much better idea.

"Right," I said, "We have a few hours, so I'm going to show you a couple of places out on the peninsula." Hazel gave a disappointed look. She was obviously after a bit of action. But she needn't have worried; I had a fantasy I'd wanted to play out for a long time, and I'm sure she would be pretty happy with what I had planned.

I grabbed a few items I had for a picnic: cutlery, breadboard, a blanket, and some food, but I needed to call in at a supermarket to get more food and drink. I hustled them into my car, but at the bottom of the drive, Hazel made me stop and let her out to grab some things of her own from their motorhome. She came back to the car, holding a large beach bag.

As we headed off to Shakespeare Park, I marvelled at my good luck; it was a beautiful day, pleasantly warm, the sky clear and blue, and the trees even seemed much greener than usual. We passed a man working in his garden, wearing nothing but a pair of denim shorts. What a great day to be alive.

After the supermarket, we drove out to the park. The end two-thirds of the peninsular is divided off by a predator fence to keep the cats, rats, mice, etc. from attacking the native birds. The Shakspeare Park reserve contains Tui's, Bell Birds, Kereru, and Fantails. I stopped at the beach and showed them some of the rare Dotterels that nest there. Then, we drove to the end of the road, where there was a gate with a combination lock. Someone who had camped there had told me the combination, but the gate was not locked anyway, so we were soon through the gate and driving through the camping ground. I parked on the grass right at the end of the beach. 

Only about three motorhomes were still in the camping ground after the Christmas rush, but there was much evidence of the vehicles that had either left that morning or the night before. Then, we grabbed our bags, headed to the beach, and up a track that very few people knew about.

Once out of sight of the campground, I turned to Hazel, "Right, take your skirt off."

"Hell no! There will be people around," she said, glancing left and right.

"Not at this time of year. I've never seen a soul on this track, and have hiked up it many times. They all do the track along the top of the ridge to the lookout. After the rush of summer camping, no one ever seems to come on this lower track," I replied.

Hazel heard the authority in my voice and looked around nervously. Then she came to a decision and tentatively unzipped the skirt. Don stepped up beside her and helped her out of it. We continued walking up the track, and after about twenty meters, I told her to remove her blouse now. She looked a lot more uncomfortable with this, but Don again stepped in and helped her undo the buttons and slip them from her shoulders. She now walked off wearing nothing but her very brief thong.

After a few paces, I couldn't resist reaching forward and pushing two fingers between her legs to see how excited she was. My fingertips softly and slowly slipped under the leg band of her thong, delving into her wet mound. She stopped dead and gripped her legs together, but too late to stop my fingers sliding deep inside the pouting wetness of her silken slit.

The phrase 'Wetter than an otter's pocket' came to mind - just one of the many silly phrases locked away in my brain's recesses.

Then, with one last look up and down the track, she pushed my hand away, threw her arms in the air, and did a pirouette. "I feel free. Get yours off to Don. We'll be nudists for the day."

As Don obediently started to remove his shirt and shorts, she bent forward, pulled her thong down her legs and stepped out of it. She started up the track again with a natural spring in her step.

I turned to Don and showed him my very wet fingers. He needed no encouragement. He took off, grabbed hold of her, and, copying me, slipped his fingers between her legs. Hazel didn't resist him but turned to me, "Com-on, big boy, get your gear off as well."

"In a minute," I said. "We are nearly there." And I bent to pick up Don's clothes and the bag he had been carrying.

Sure enough, another twenty paces and the bush on each side of the track finished. It opened out onto lush green paddocks, with a great view down the Harbour to Auckland city. I led them up a gentle slope towards another band of bush and trees on top of the cliffs. Once there, we had a 360-degree view of the harbour and the ridge track behind us. But we were hidden from walkers on the ridge track by the curve of the land. If people had been up at the lookout, they could have seen us with binoculars. Same with anyone down on the beach, but there were only two kiteboarders there, and I was pretty sure they wouldn't have a telescope.

Don wasted no time at all. He dropped the bag and clothes he was carrying and hustled Hazel beside the tree under which I was busy laying the blanket. He pushed her around quite brutally, not the quiet, placid guy I had met a few days before. He was consumed with desire. Bending her over, he fingered her with one hand while he rummaged around in the bag she had just dropped at her feet. He pulled out the jar of Vaseline I had left with them a few days ago. Within seconds he was lubed up and hammering into her arse.

I moved over beside Hazel, lifted her head, and asked if she was okay. She nodded enthusiastically at me, "He doesn't want blowjobs any more; this gets him off quicker than he ever did before."

I went to fondle her breasts and pull on those lovely dark nipples. As I cupped my hands under them, Hazel reached behind her and digging her fingernails into his arse cheeks, she began moving her arse and hips hard against him. Poor old Don came with a rush, moaning loud enough to scare the birds from the trees.

Hazel pushed him away, dived into her bag, and pulled out the antiseptic wipes. "Clean yourself up properly. I want you and Dave now."