The Infiltration

After we made our way through the initial depravity, we decided to move beyond the bonfire and loud music to go into one of the cabins nearby. It was good to get away from the music, which was painful to our ears. Maybe we were just too old for that crap, but we had had enough.

Tara and I walked to a cabin in which, lo and behold, Kent and James were setting up lines of cocaine for everyone. Additionally, the place was filled with pot smoke. There were about thirty people there, half of whom were engaged in sex, and half of whom were doing drugs. On the bunks, couples were fucking, giving head, or in 69s. The others were smoking pot or doing cocaine. Because Kent and James were the only ones who knew us in our masks, as they had given them to us, they were gracious hosts.

"Care for a line or two?" James asked us.

I had not snorted cocaine in about two decades, and part of me felt that I needed to decline the offer and be a good girl. But I was a fairly heavy user back in my youth and I loved that drug. The chance to revisit the experience of that high was too tempting.

"Sure, I'll do a couple of lines, but Tara might need three," I replied. "She is a little uptight."

Tara and I both approached the table, and with a small, glass tube, snorted a few lines of cocaine. The euphoria was nearly immediate for the both of us. It was like there was a clarity and perception to the world that did not exist before. We were high, in the truest sense of the word.

"Oh my God, I feel good, Jill" said Tara, in a drug-fueled epiphany. "Oh, shit this feels really, really good."

I could only laugh at her response. Later I learned that this was her first experience with it. She went from worrying to completely euphoric and confident in an instant. It was a good thing, at least at that moment.

In our cocaine reverie, we chatted with Kent and James, smoked a bowl of pot, and watched people come into the cabin to do drugs and fuck. We decided just to hang out there for the rest of the night. In retrospect, the entire scene was crazy. But everything that went on felt good to everyone. Within those walls, there were neither limits nor laws.

Long after midnight, as things were winding down, two guys-one black and one white-came in to buy some weed from Kent and James. They bought a couple of dime bags, and smoked them in front of us in the cabin. They were wearing really cool masks, and their frames were rock-hard. They were beautiful young men. Tara and I did a couple more lines of cocaine, and we were riding the high, so to speak. We felt invincible. We were also feeling very randy. Tara looked over at me while pointing at the guys and nodded her head affirmatively. That was her sign for "let's move on these guys." I was all for it. We weren't even going to stop and ask for their names.

While the black guy was in between taking hits on his pipe, Tara walked over to him and gave him a deep French kiss. She then grabbed his crotch, and started to massage his balls through his shorts. Eventually Tara fell to her knees, unbuttoned his shorts, and slid them down his ankles, after which she started sucking his cock. She was a portrait of pure animal instinct and, of course, like any guy, he did not protest. His penis was about four inches flaccid, but after Tara's lips and tongue urged it upwards, it reached its full length of seven inches. It was hot and heavenly to watch that thing grow. While Tara artfully ran her ravenous tongue in circles across his frenulum, I became eager to do the same with his white friend.

I leaned back on the table on which I was sitting, unbuttoned my pants, and shimmied them down to my ankles, before kicking them off to the floor. I motioned over to the white guy, took him by the hand, and started to suck his fingertips, while rubbing my pussy through my panties. He reached down with his other hand and assisted me. I pulled my panties aside and let him put one of his fingers inside me, after which he pulled it out and licked it clean. I could tell by his smile that he liked my flavor. I knew right then that we would be a good match.

I pulled him closer to me and we began to kiss, face to face, mask to mask. With our costumes, he had no idea that I was forty-two. He probably thought he was making out with an eighteen-year-old high school grad from another local school. He was a good kisser, and he smelled lovely, almost earthy, like pine. While we probed each other's mouths, I unbuttoned his shorts and started to rub his cock through his boxers. Once he was hard, I dropped to my knees and took his tool in my mouth, running my tongue along the underside of its head, before sucking it deeply. I knew that I could make him pop at my will, but I wanted to save him and savor him. I wanted his balls to ache for release, but to be denied. I wanted to tease him as well as please him, so that is exactly what I did. He may have taken a lot of classes in high school, but I was going to give him a lesson of a whole different sort.

Although there were at least a dozen people in the cabin watching both Tara and I perform these sex acts, it did not matter. We had been watching people fuck in the cabin all night, so it seemed like normative behavior at that point. Our new friends Kent and James were a few feet away from me. I think that they were thrilled to see me about to be fucked. Once my panties were off, and they could see my bare pussy, they took out their cocks and started casually stroking to my image. That made me feel good. Maybe I am still attractive after all of these years.

Across the room, Tara was looking quite fine in her own right, as she was getting worked over by the black guy. In a deep embrace, they fucked in the missionary position for several minutes, kissing passionately. Beads of sweat dotted their frames as they moved rhythmically as one. They were beautiful. It was obvious that the guy had already blown some cream into her, as one could see it foaming on his cock during his strokes, but the visual was a reminder that one of the great benefits of men his age is that they can have multiple orgasms. He was clearly going to empty himself into her again.

After I finished my oral tease on my masked lover, I lay back on the table, spreading my legs for him. With his cock in his hand, he eagerly moved in between them, parting my labia with his purple, bulbous head. Oh my, every millimeter of his six inches felt good, and we both moaned softly, as we rocked in unison. He was very tender and loving, kissing my neck while thrusting. Probably due to his inexperience with feeling a pussy, within about two minutes his breathing quickened and deepened. I knew that he was about to lose it. Seconds thereafter I could feel his cock pulsating, spasming, and delivering forth. After his orgasm subsided, I could sense that he was about to apologize for coming too quickly, but I stopped him, and pulled him close to me.

"Don't say anything. Not a word. Stay in me, baby." I whispered. "Stay in me until you get hard again."

His cock was softening, but I held him by his hips, and kept him inside of me. I could feel his jizz running from my pussy and down my ass. I tried to use my vaginal muscles to grind and squeeze him back into firmness, while kissing him deeply on his soft, supple lips.

"That's it, honey," I whispered in his ear encouragingly, as I held him tightly, grinding him. "That's it."

It was only a matter of a few minutes before he was hard again. Feeling him go from hard, to soft, to hard again was incredible. We picked up where we had left off: that is, fucking each other senseless. After a good twenty minutes, and after I had three orgasms, he came again, and collapsed on me in exhaustion. Together we lay arm in arm, as a pile of sweaty, spent, creamed flesh. Masked and sweaty, we were two spirits united as one. It felt like perfection. At that moment, there was nothing beyond us.

"You felt amazing," he whispered, before pausing. "I have a question," he added.

"What?" I whispered back in a daze.

"Can I see you without your mask?" he asked.

I was too screwed up to respond right away, really. Booze, marijuana, cocaine, endorphins from orgasms-I was a human cocktail. But he was an exceptionally good fuck, and I was willing to along with it.

"I'll lift up my mask if you do yours at the same time," I said, also curious to see who I just fucked.

"Okay, that's fine," he said. "Let's do it on the count of three. One...two...three..."

I took off my mask and my partner took off his. What I saw was unbearable.

"Ken?!?!" I exclaimed in a raw gasp.

It was my son. Out of the couple of hundred people there, I ended up fucking my son by accident. The look on Ken's face as he peered into my eyes was disbelief and horror all wrapped into one. He didn't say a word, but the trauma on his face spoke volumes. He squinted his eyes and shook his head, probably hoping that it was a bad dream. No, it wasn't a dream, but it was excruciatingly bad.

I didn't say another word. I just held him in my arms as tightly as I possibly could. People in the cabin were laughing, but I simply held him.

All of a sudden we were in a different kind of wilderness, completely alone among wolves.