The Happy Campers

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Married lovers have a wild time at the campground.
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Conrad and Macy's kids were making the transition to adulthood, with many interests outside the family. They weren't around the house much any more, so Conrad and Macy began to explore new ways to enrich their 20-year-old romance.

Macy had accumulated a few extra pounds over the years, giving her tiny five-foot body the pleasing curves of a mature female with few vanities. Her attempts to work off unwanted weight only resulted in better fitness and muscularity. Macy's dark red hair framed plain features on a freckled face that rarely saw a blush of makeup. Aside from a very open relationship with her husband, Macy pursued strictly conservative ways and kept an obsessively neat house.

Conrad wasn't an overly big man, or obviously athletic, but he moved with confident grace. As a mining engineer in the prime of his career, he brought home a very comfortable income. In spite of his 42 years, Conrad still had no trouble slinging his bride over his shoulder from time to time. Conrad's jet-black hair and beard gave him a commanding presence in business meetings as well as social life.

Conrad and Macy enjoyed outdoor excursions so much that they bought a vacation trailer and a membership in MegaTrails, a private campground organization. They often took the trailer out for weeklong stays at MegaTrails campgrounds in the Northwest US. MegaTrails is well known for upscale amenities such as swimming pools, tennis courts, shopping, laundry facilities, hosted cookouts, TV cable and sewer service at every site, and so on. Conrad and Macy took frequent advantage of the hiking and other exercise opportunities.

In the Northwest rain forests, there are frequent rains even in summer. Conrad and Macy sometimes had to be content with indoor activities when they were camped, which can be rather limiting in the confines of a small vacation trailer. After breakfast on one such rainy day, Macy discovered while she was dressing (she usually wore a simple housedress until breakfast was done) that her panties were looking bedraggled. They were showing little tears around the waistband. She was about to fling them into the wastebasket when her mischievous instinct surfaced.

Macy tracked down her sewing kit and extracted the scissors. She sat next to Conrad, who was reading on the sofa, and studiously commenced to cut the deteriorated fabric of her old panties. She whacked a big opening, about four inches across, centered in the back. She cut irregular holes in the crotch, and up the sides and front panel, creating a Swiss-cheese effect. Conrad was distracted from his book, and gave Macy a quizzical look. She just grinned and went back to annihilating the unfortunate panties, making a series of short snips in the waistband and leg bands.

Macy held them up for inspection. Then, apparently satisfied with the result, she put away her sewing kit and retreated to the bathroom. When she came out again, Macy was naked except for her much-molested panties! Her hips swayed smartly as she strutted up to the propane furnace control next to Conrad and dialed in a new setting. Wisps of Macy's primly manicured pubic hair peeked out through the ragged holes around her pussy. Conrad's attention was riveted. The thermostat was mounted inconveniently high on the wall, and he watched Macy's ample breasts rise up on her chest as she twisted the knob. When she turned away from him, her supple bottom cleavage bounced and weaved seductively inside the large back opening.

Macy pranced about, sweeping the floor, cleaning up the remains of their breakfast. The furnace responded efficiently. Conrad forgot his book and started to perspire. His pole extended to full length and tented up his pants, twitching and straining against the cloth. Macy kept up her silly charade, finding yet more trivial housekeeping tasks to perform in her scanty new costume.

Macy knew that Conrad was following her movements closely with his eyes, but she purposely ignored his rising discomfort. She felt a pleasant tingle grow and spread in her belly. She amplified the feeling by displaying her charms to Conrad in ways that could only be described as lascivious. She swayed and stretched. She bent down to pick up the smallest particles of dust. She drew the broom handle between her thighs and rocked her pussy up and down over the wooden shaft, painting it with a moist coating of her abundant natural perfume.

Conrad was usually a perfect gentleman. He often negotiated with Macy, letting her know what he wanted in bed, trying to accommodate her needs, too. This may be good strategy for cementing a long-term relationship, but eventually one understands another well enough to bypass it on the odd occasion.

Wondering at Conrad's apparent restraint, Macy decided to break a boundary. She presented her raggedly covered bottom directly to Conrad, bending low enough to grab her ankles. Urine trickled down the insides of her thighs and puddled on the vinyl floor around her bare feet. Conrad's breath stalled in his throat. He finally became so provoked that he tackled Macy and threw her roughly down on the sofa. She curled into a fetal position, in mock defense against the hungry carnivore standing over her defenseless pink form. Conrad rapidly shed his clothes. He savaged what was left of Macy's abused panties, tearing them viciously from her and ripping them into tatters. Like a shaman performing mystic rites, he decorated her submissive body with the pieces. Thus liberated, Macy's heady aphrodisiac scent quickly saturated the little trailer's overheated atmosphere.

Conrad's weighty pipe was fully primed and flowing with thick juice, but he was inspired to detour by the dining table. Conrad grabbed a tall bottle with a metal spout. "Bottoms up, you naughty girl," he ordered, gyrating the bottle at Macy to indicate the desired rotation. She rolled obligingly onto her tummy, and Conrad dispensed a liberal serving of their best extra-virgin olive oil directly into her not-so-virgin confluence. "Mmmmmmm," Macy purred, as the oil warmed and descended into her fleshy crevice.

Conrad favored his potent erection with a little more of the rich Mediterranean condiment and then mounted Macy's sumptuous derier. He took a moment to survey the symmetrical pink landscape under him, and noted with profound appreciation his mineral rights thereto.

"Hey, Conrad," Macy called over her shoulder; "what are you waiting for?"

"Oh, I just wish you could see the view," he replied wistfully. "You were blessed with the most magnificent backside in the whole universe."

Macy giggled and pinched her buns together as Conrad leaned forward and nestled his sensitive organ into her cleavage. Conrad moved lower, until his cock slipped into the lush valley between Macy's thighs. He began drilling steadily for the mother lode. Waves of hot sensation shot through Conrad's body with every millimeter. Macy felt Conrad's hard shaft drive along the folds of her swollen labia and tug on her sensitive inner lips as they parted. Conrad penetrated Macy's body completely, finding only the most pleasurable resistance as he bored into her steamy depths.

She arched her ass up at Conrad, forcing his massive drillhead deeper and deeper with every stroke. Macy was very pleased to get her dose from behind; Conrad always touched her insides in a very special way when he banged her buns in this position. And bang them he did. His piledriver impacts flattened Macy and drove her down into the sofa even as she pushed her twin pillows up into Conrad's loins. The whole trailer shook rhythmically on its steel-belted radials. Conrad pounded away like this, oblivious to the rest of the universe, until the thick sweet syrup of deliverance gushed out of him, blasting his mind into nothingness, propelling pulse after pulse of his essential liquor deep into Macy's hungry reproductive conduit.

When Conrad had recovered sufficiently from his convulsive release, he turned Macy over and made love to her fragrant, sloppy pussy with his mouth. He smelled and tasted the spicy product of his own body mingled with Macy's aromatic secretions and fine olive oil. Conrad knew from her odor that Macy was ready for the coup de grâce. She felt him lick around her swollen clitty bud with his warm, soft tongue. Macy moaned deliriously and closed her eyes to enjoy the delicious sensations, knowing there would be more, much more to come.

Conrad slipped one finger inside Macy's drooling wet cunnie, then another. He curled them up towards her bladder and rubbed the little patch of spongy tissue. He could tell by its coarse texture that Macy would soon be airborne. Conrad massaged the spot with a marching rhythm while his tongue worked up to a furious cadence on her clitty.

He didn't have long to wait. Macy was seized by a majestic visceral tension, so delicate, yet so firm, tickling her entrails with a feather that slowly morphed into a jackhammer, shattering her consciousness, spilling out the fluid of her mortal soul. She writhed and bucked and shuddered, groaning as if pierced by a broadsword, letting down even more primal wetness. Conrad was not dissuaded from his efforts. He continued to pleasure Macy slowly, feeling her convulse again and again as he caressed her highly sensitive inner flesh with his practiced tongue and fingers until she could linger no more in her private dimension of ecstasy. Macy gently pushed him away.

They were both sweating profusely from the heat and intensity of their ordeal. Conrad got up to check the thermostat. "I don't believe this," he exclaimed; "Do you know, it's over ninety degrees in here!" He turned it back down and opened the roof vent wide. Conrad fetched a towel and soaked it in hot water from the kitchen sink. He tenderly cleaned Macy's pussy with the steamy towel, eliciting more soft cooing moans of pleasure, then rinsed it and cleansed the sweat from her glowing pink body. When he was done with Macy, he rinsed it again and wiped down his own body several times as the perspiration subsided.

Conrad recalled the lively ride he had just experienced, and wondered if anyone in the campground had seen their trailer jumping with joy. "Remind me to adjust those damn stabilizing jacks!" he admonished Macy.

Two days later, the weather at their site near the Washington coast had performed a complete about-face. It was warm and balmy outside. After eating lunch at a picnic table next to the trailer, Conrad and Macy decided to take a hike in the woods. They followed an old trail remembered from last summer's explorations. It was just over three miles long, looping around a small secluded pond in the forest. The trail, though well used in the past, had become partly overgrown. It looked as if very few travelers had passed this way recently.

Conrad carried a light backpack with a blanket inside, plus a few snacks, first aid gear, and other odd bits of hiking paraphernalia. Aside from the brush and detritus on the path, it was a pleasant walk, hardly requiring any serious exertion. They selected a grassy clearing not far from the water, spread the blanket, and settled in for an afternoon of recreation.

A light wind caressed the fir trees overhead, sounding like a distant waterfall. Birds flitted from branch to branch. Closer to the ground, insects buzzed and clicked incessantly. Frogs sent up a guttural croaking from the pond. The sticky sweet smell of ripe wild berries came and went with the salty Pacific breezes.

During a lull in the forest background noises, Macy thought she heard the distant, soft tinkle of a woman's laughter. She sat up straight and listened carefully, straining her ears. Yes, there it was again. "We're not alone," she whispered to Conrad, with a frown settling over her features. Privacy was a matter of some concern, because they had planned on a little sun-drenched hanky-panky before the afternoon was over.

Conrad and Macy got to their feet and sought out the happy interloper, creeping carefully over the duff on the forest floor to avoid making noise. Soon they heard a man's booming laughter as well. As they got closer to the source, it became clear that the strangers were altogether too giddy to be just picnicking. Conrad spotted them first. He halted and stood stock-still, peering intently between the curving branches of a vine maple, and pointed silently for Macy to see. She saw them too, without a stitch of clothing, cavorting on a quilt in a little clearing like the one Macy and Conrad had just left behind. There was an open picnic basket nearby. An empty wine bottle stood by its side. The strangers' ages looked to be about 40, the same as Macy and Conrad, both of them handsome and not too worse for the wear.

They obviously knew how to enjoy themselves. The man was feeding sections of an orange to the woman, putting each one directly into her mouth when she was ready for it. In between bites, the woman went down and made a big show of slurping and drooling all over the man's rigidly erect member, causing him to groan and laugh maniacally. When the food was gone, he pushed the woman down on her back. With a flourish befitting an accomplished chef, he emptied the rosy contents of his wine glass straight into her pussy. She held her legs together tightly and he went down on her, lapping up the wine like a puppy drinking from a dish.

Macy and Conrad looked at each other in wide-eyed amazement. They had viewed this kind of scene in videos before, but here, in the woods, it was so organic, so genuine. No one was acting; they were simply playing. Conrad and Macy stood as if rooted into the earth and watched the uninhibited couple continue their lighthearted game of love.

When the man had lapped up all of the wine he prized the woman's thighs apart and lifted up her knees. She granted him full access to her tender sanctum and he plundered her with his tongue, lapping her intimate flesh with as much enthusiasm as the wine. She pulled and twisted on her nipples as her hips writhed under the man's enthusiastic oral assault. He slid his hands under her butt and tried to control the wild gyrations. She responded by clamping her thighs like a vise around the man's ears. After a few minutes of wild loving in which Conrad and Macy thought she might break the poor fellow's neck, a mighty orgasm tore through her. Still tweaking her nipples madly, she bucked and arched her back up above the blanket, then let out a sharp screech. Her panting was clearly audible to Conrad and Macy, more than a dozen yards away in the bushes. The woman's overstimulated tummy quivered with muscle spasms, sending ripples through the soft pink jelly of her breasts. Her intrepid lover went on lapping at her cunnie, and she bucked several more times, emitting another sharp cry each time, but with diminishing volume.

Conrad and Macy became intensely aroused as the minutes passed, yet they felt a certain guilt for violating the unknown couple's privacy. Ironically, they were spying on this innocent pair of lovers in the same way that they had taken steps to prevent for themselves. Conrad and Macy alternately shot questioning looks at each other, but didn't move from their places!

When the woman regained her composure, she pushed the man down on his back and began ministering to him in a similar fashion. She was on her knees facing directly away from Conrad and Macy's position. The strange woman's plush vulva was gloriously displayed, framed by the sensuous spreading curves of her generous female bottom flesh. Her moist pussy lips squished in and out, playing hide and seek between her thighs as she went up and down over her man. Conrad's face flushed bright red. He turned to Macy with a pained expression, but Macy's gaze was fixed on the action. Conrad resolved not to miss any more.

The man in the clearing vocalized continuously, cheering his woman on, praising her efforts in words that were mostly lost to Conrad and Macy's ears. The woman's softly contoured mounds undulated rhythmically as she moved over her lover, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, unfailingly graceful. She was apparently using her hands to good effect as well, but Conrad and Macy couldn't see how. The man's voice started to strain and crack. His toes curled up and the muscles in his legs stood out in stark relief. He was clearly enthralled beyond reason, calling out "Julie.. oh, ohhh... Julie, Julie, Julie..." until his speech faded slowly back into the forest background. Julie's pussy lips contracted between her thighs and stayed there for a long moment. A shiny trickle of viscous fluid ran down to the blanket.

By this time, Conrad had raised a huge woodie in his shorts and he was in danger of hyperventilating. Macy's mouth hung open, for how long she didn't know, but her lips were very dry. A tempestuous desire burned low in her belly and her breasts were aching to be freed from their confinement. As Julie laid down to rest together with her man in the clearing, Macy and Conrad crept carefully back to their own little nest. They collected their belongings and trekked a bit further around the pond, 'til they found another level spot big enough to spread out the blanket.

Their pangs of guilt didn't last long. They were soon locked together in a passionate embrace, wrestling on the blanket, and then fumbling desperately at the fasteners on each other's clothing. Conrad badly misjudged his strength when he tried to unzip Macy's shorts. Her zipper jammed near the top. He couldn't force it down. It wouldn't go back up either! On his third attempt, the pull-tab broke away in Conrad's fingers. He flung it into the bushes angrily. Macy burst out, half laughing, half crying at this frustrating turn of events, trying to accept the bad luck. Macy's hiking shorts were a bit on the snug side. There was no chance of getting them off her without lowering the zipper.

Conrad went livid with blind determination. He retrieved the shorts that Macy had so recently pulled over his feet, and fished out his pocketknife. He opened the larger blade. Holding the knife in his right hand, he lifted the hem on one leg of Macy's shorts with his left, and started cutting! Conrad held the fabric away from Macy's body and slashed the tough denim from the inside out, working his way up to Macy's waist in a few strokes. He hacked the other leg away just as quickly. Macy had a lot of trouble holding still for this. She clasped both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming, and sucked in her tummy, trying in vain to distance her soft flesh from Conrad's busy steel.

He yanked the shredded garment from under Macy's bottom and heaved it after the broken zipper pull. Nothing now stood between him and his objective but the sheer lavender film of Macy's finest silk panties. Conrad, reflecting on the supremely satisfying act he had just completed, decided to indulge himself a little more. He grabbed the thin veil of material in his strong hands and ripped her panties away in a single vigorous motion.

Macy reeled in shock at Conrad's raw impulse and the sharp blade cutting so close to her vitals. At the same time, she was intoxicated by his unquenchable need for her. In the boiling ferment of emotions only one thing was certain: Macy was very, very hot and slippery in the same place that Conrad sought with such overwhelming zeal. Her need for him was just as great, maybe greater, but her dignity was fast becoming a casualty. "You devil!" she hissed.

Macy hooked her heels behind Conrad's sturdy buttocks and compelled him to enter, raising her hips, giving him barely enough time to center his dribbling didgeridoo over the entrance to her concert chamber. She clamped her heels down tightly, sending them both on a journey of exquisite sensations. Macy didn't let Conrad play his primitive instrument, even a little. She smothered him against her pussy pelt with legs grown muscular from climbing steep trails. Macy rolled her pelvic cradle around Conrad's savagely swollen cock, shooting fiery sparks through her clitty as she smashed up into his pubic crest again and again.