Wife in the Dunes

Photography is one of my personal passions, and I've been fortunate to be able to pursue my hobby all over the world. I've captured subtly beautiful landscapes in China, fascinating cultures in East Africa, and elegant architecture in Europe. But for the past 20 years, by far my favorite photographic subject has been my wife.

My wife has a classic feminine look, and even in her late-40s is often mistaken for being much younger. She has redish-brown wavy hair that falls just below her shoulders, smooth fair skin, sparkling bright blue eyes, and a warm inviting smile. She taller than average, has a toned body with lean well-defined legs, a tight ass, neatly trimmed bush, and small breasts with quarter-sized areola and prominent nipples.

Some of you may prefer women with larger breasts, but to me, my wife's tits are perfect and incredibly sexy. Around the house she sometimes goes braless, and I cannot help but stare at her chest as her nipples strain against the fabric of her shirt. The sight arouses me every time, and fondling her firm tits while gently tugging on her long nipples is my favorite bit of sexual foreplay.

The irony is that my wife is self-conscious about her body, particularly the small size of her breasts. Outside of the house she always wears padded bras to try, often unsuccessfully, to conceal her constantly stiff nipples. Mind you, she's no prude, and when she is relaxed she has a healthy libido and can be quite sexually adventurous. But she has a hard time believing that men, or women for that matter, would lust after her.

Over the years my wife has tolerated my photographic obsession with her. Most of the images are non-sexual, but a few times she has let me take boudoir-type photos, and I have some treasured pictures of her flashing me by a waterfall in Hawaii. However, each of these sessions has required a lot of persuasion, so as soon as we began planning a week-long car camping trip in the U.S. Southwest, I planted the idea of nude photos. I was particularly excited about the prospect during our planned visit to White Sands National Monument in New Mexico.

For inspiration, I borrowed a book of classic nude photography from the library, and it included Edward Weston's iconic series of a woman in the dunes from the 1930s. My wife and I looked at the photos together and admired the soft curves of both the female body and the sand. Based on her comments, I began to think there was a real chance she would agree to pose for me during our trip. Little did I know how much further things would go.

_______________

There were many hours of driving during the first few days of our trip, and at one point I raised the topic of the nude photos again. My earlier campaign of gentle urging seemed to have worked, because my wife expressed receptivity and even excitement about the idea. The anticipation was building for me too, though I also knew that being naked in the park wasn't permitted, so it would be essential to find a secluded spot.

We arrived at the park entrance in the afternoon of the third day, and were disappointed by how many people there were. It was in late spring, so the days were warm and the nights were cool, which is peak season for visiting. The parking lot had several large tour buses, plus RVs and cars with license plates from all over the United States. It was crowded, and there were families with kids everywhere. Getting naked in the dunes seemed like it was going to be impossible when we set out into the heart of the park.

The stunning natural beauty of the setting was somewhat marred by the presence of so many noisy people, but it turned out that most people only went as far as the first set of dunes. So after 20 minutes of hiking we found a nice private location. It had an open view to the west, but was shielded by a set of higher dunes to the east. By now it was late in the afternoon and the "golden hour" was approaching—the time of day when the light is particularly soft and sensual.

After some mild coaxing, my wife stripped off her clothing, but she did so rather unceremoniously and was clearly anxious about the situation. At first, that tension showed in the photographs. Her shoulders were hunched and her face was taught. But after a dozen or so pictures, she began to relax and seemed to enjoy the warm air on her exposed body.

I gradually got bolder about directing my wife's poses. Nothing was too explicit, but with each shot I tried to highlight different aspects of her body and the otherworldly landscape. She was standing in some pictures, while in others I had her lay stretched out on the sand. I got the impression she was beginning to truly enjoy the shoot and was getting frisky.

"What are you going to do with these photos?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, genuinely confused. I presumed that the obvious answer—jerk off while fantasizing about her—wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"You've gotten pretty serious with your photography. Maybe you should enter some into a contest."

"Really?" I replied, with a hint of skepticism in my voice.

"Sure, as long as you keep them tasteful and don't show my face."

Even with those conditions, the thought of showing some of the photos to the world got me horny. She knew I would respect her wishes for modesty, but she was misjudging how sexy she is, and how even tasteful erotica was fodder for men's fantasy. And for me, I was not entirely sure why, but the idea of countless unknown men masturbating to photos of my wife filled me with pride and turned me on.

The pictures started to get even more daring and sexual, and the banter got more suggestive. By now she had a nice broad smile on her face, and was clearly getting into it. She did a number of sexy poses with flashes of pussy. At one point she stood before me while she cupped her breasts and flicked her nipples, which she knows that drives me crazy. What she didn't know was at that very moment she had an audience.

Two guys, who looked to be in their early 20s, crested the top of the dune about 100 yards behind our position. They were directly in my line of sight, but behind my wife. They stopped when they saw us. I debated whether to say anything, but after seeing that they were staying where they were, I remained quiet. I kept taking pictures, but my wife must have noticed my distracted look.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I hesitated, but said, "You have some admirers," as I motioned to their position.

"What!" she exclaimed, as she quickly tried to cover herself and glanced over her left shoulder to where they were.

When she looked back at me, I had difficulty getting a read on her reaction. I had assumed she would immediately want to end the session and get dressed, so her next question surprised me.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Do you want to stop?" I asked, rather disingenuously.

"Not really, but I feel exposed," she said.

She appeared to be conflicted about the situation, so I took the hint and tried to put her at ease.

"Yeah, I understand, but they're pretty far away."

"They can see my ass," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"True, but do you really care?" I said, posing it more as a statement than a question.

"I don't know," she said pensively. Then, after a pause, "I suppose not, but I don't want them coming over here."

"It doesn't look like they will, so let's keep shooting," I said, trying to suppress my excitement at her willingness to continue.

"Fine, but they better stay there," she said.

I grinned. I was pretty sure she meant to say that they better not get any closer, but perhaps some part of her really did want them to actually stay. Anyhow, she stopped covering herself, but remained facing away from them as I resumed taking photos.

Knowing we were being watched added a new sense of adventure and risk. I continued giving her direction, as I had her sit on the sand and stretch out her fit body. She was still turned away from the two guys, but they were almost certainly getting good peeks at more than just her ass. I kept an eye on them, and even though they were far, something about the way one of them adjusted his shorts suggested he was especially well endowed.

After about ten minutes, my wife asked, "Are they still there?"

"Yup," I said, with a smirk.

"Are you serious?" She seemed surprised that two young guys would stay to watch a nude MILF provocatively posing.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"Admiring the view," I said coyly, "but mostly I think they are pretending not to notice."

"What about now?" she asked, as she rotated so she was in profile to them, giving them a better look at her full body.

"That definitely got their attention." I said.

"What do you mean?" she responded inquisitively.

"Well, one of them has a pretty noticeable bulge in his shorts."

"How the hell can you see that from here?" she asked skeptically.

"I don't know. I guess he must be pretty hung, and he's getting hard watching you."

"Oh give me a break, I'm probably old enough to be his mother," She said.

"Maybe so, but you're incredibly hot, and I am sure both of them will be fantasizing about you when they jerk off later," I said

She gave me an exaggerated look of exasperation and said, "You men are all the same. All you think of is fucking," as she looked straight at the bulge in my own pants.

There was something about the way she said that that seemed particularly sexy. She hadn't said that men think about "nudity" or "sex"; she said "fucking." I took it as a tell—a sign of what was really on her mind.

Then, with a mischievous look, she asked, "Shall I give them a closer look?"

"Ha, ha." I replied, assuming she was just being playful.

But after a brief pause, my wife stood up, brushed the sand off herself, and said,

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

And with that, my wife turned and walked towards the location of the voyeurs. Stunned, I started to voice a protest, but words failed me.

My wife walked confidently, with her head and shoulders held high, and didn't try to cover herself at all. She stopped at the base of the dune, much nearer to them, but still at a safe distance, and then looked around a bit nervously. She had indeed given them a closer look, and I assumed she was then going to come back towards me. Instead, she turned and started climbing the steep face of the dune, straight to them.

I was mesmerized watching my wife work her way up the dune. I watched the flex of her well defined calves, strong legs and tight ass. When she reached the top, I could see that she was breathing hard. Catching her breath, she interlaced her fingers and put her hands on her head, which had the effect of thrusting her chest forward. Given the level of exertion it was a perfectly normal thing to do, except she was now buck naked in front of two men.

I was dumbstruck as I observed the amazing and rather shocking scene—my naked wife next to two fully dressed guys. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but as she moved her hands to her hips, I still had this idea that she was telling them they had seen enough, and they should leave us in peace.

Right about then my camera started beeping, indicating that the battery was dying. I looked down and fumbled in my camera bag to try, without luck, to find my spare battery. When I looked back up, I caught a glimpse as the three of them walked down the opposite side of the dune and out of my sight.

It seems strange now, but at the time I really didn't think too much about what was happening. The whole sequence of events had already surprised and puzzled me, and I had a kind of naiveté about the situation. However, I quickly grew curious and a bit concerned, so I decided to scramble up an adjacent dune to make sure things were okay.

As I approached the crest of the dune, I expected to see the three of them still standing and talking. When they came into view, I saw that the two guys were in fact still standing, but my wife was on her knees between them. Their shorts were around their ankles and she was vigorously stroking both cocks.

I froze as I struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. I was flooded with feelings of shock, anger and jealousy. My knees were weak, and I felt like I might throw up. The sense of betrayal and humiliation was powerful, but my growing erection indicated arousal too. The raw sexuality of the scene was undeniable, and seeing my wife perform sexually made her seem vital and all the more desirable.

I was upset, but unsure of what to do, so I decided to crouch down out of sight. I still had my camera, but it was indeed dead. Fortunately I could use the viewfinder to zoom in to get a better look.

I was correct that the guys were in their twenties, and pretty good looking. The taller one was blond, skinny and a little geeky, while the shorter one had brown hair, a darker complexion, and he seemed to be the more confident of the two. Both were uncircumcised, and I guessed they were European tourists.

The tall one's cock was about average, with a slight bend to the left. Ironically, it was the shorter one who had the larger member. It looked to be a little longer than my six inches, and much thicker. My wife's hand barely reached halfway around and he had a generously size ballsack to match. I'd never seen a cock that large outside of a porn flick, and for a moment I caught myself imagining it stretching and thrusting inside my wife's pussy. I am pretty sure she was thinking the same as she expertly stroked away.

I know everyone belittles handjobs, but my wife is particularly good at them. Back when we were first a couple she asked me a few times to masturbate in front of her, and she'd played close attention. She knows just how much pressure and speed to apply and exactly how to fondle my balls. Of course she is an amazing fuck too—her years of yoga and regular workouts make for intensely creative sessions—but sometimes a little dirty talk and an uncomplicated handjob is just the right thing. She is always happy to oblige me, and now she was working her magic on two very lucky guys.

As I continued to watch, my emotions remained deeply conflicted. The initial shock had worn off a bit, and I simply observed the carnal lust on the faces of the two men. That was a reminder to me of how sexy my wife is, and how fortunate I am. So I decided to suppress my dismay, and simply watch and try to enjoy.

My wife had increased the speed of the motion of her hands, and based on the look on the faces of the guys, I knew they were close to cumming. But then she stopped, said something to them, and laid down on the sand. She stretched out her lean body, just like she had for the photos, with her rock-hard nips poking skyward.

I panicked, thinking things were about to go too far. Somehow at that moment I had gotten comfortable with my wife jerking off two complete strangers, but fucking was out of the question. I debated making myself known and putting a stop to it all. I started to stand up, but then I noticed that the two guys had begun stroking their own cocks, and she was egging them on. I realized she wanted them to cum on her; not fuck.

The tall guy came first, shooting spurts of cum in all directions, landing harmlessly in the sand. I was too far away to hear anything, but there seemed to be some good natured laughter as he hastily pulled up his shorts.

The other guy was still going at it and had positioned himself directly over my wife, whose legs were now slightly apart. I could see her arching her back and encouraging him, as I absentmindedly rubbed my own erection through the thin fabric of my pants.

The guy was stroking furiously and talking to my wife at the same time. Whatever it was he was saying was clearly turning her on as she ran her hands across her chest. When he finally climaxed, a ribbon of white fluid shot through the air and landed all over my wife's chest. That was followed by two equally voluminous bursts. He clearly had practice aiming his load.

I know it's a cliché, but the volume of his cum was truly impressive, and so was his technique. The look on my wife's face suggested she was similarly impressed. As the guy slowed his pace, cum continued dribbling from his cock, and I watched as one last gob dripped off his hand, landing right by my wife's pussy.

With both guys now finished, my wife sat up and motioned the taller one for his t-shirt. He obliged, and she wiped up the sticky mess on her chess and thighs, and then stood up. She gave the tall one a quick and somewhat awkward hug as she handed back his cum-soaked shirt. She gave the shorter one a full on hug, pressing those firm tits into his chest as he ran his hands over her bare ass cheeks and gave a squeeze. She then gave him a kiss and one last gentle tug of his partially flaccid, but still impressive cock.

Snapping out of my state of shock and arousal, I scrambled back down the dune to the spot where our stuff was. I arrived just as my wife crested the dune. She walked back to me self-confidently, totally naked, with a huge grin on her face.

I really wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I tried to muster the courage to confront her. Instead, when she got close enough, I asked rather meekly, "Where'd you go? I was worried."

"Nowhere." she said, as if the question was irrational.

"But..." I stammered.

"Oh, they were just harmless kids, so I gave them a little show."

By itself that would have been a pretty provocative thing to admit to, but of course I knew the whole story. I don't know whether she knew that I had seen her, but she certainly didn't display any signs of shame or remorse. In fact, she seemed quite defiant and pleased with herself.

I started to say something else, but before I could, she reached down, undid the buckle and zipper on my pants and released my throbbing cock from my underwear. I am sure she noticed the large wet spot from my precum.

Without uttering a word, my wife pulled my pants and boxers all the way down and motioned me to lie down. She then straddled me and reached back to guide my cock into her dripping wet pussy. There was no foreplay. No touching. No kissing. We simply fucked. I am not sure if the two guys were still there—for all I knew a whole crowd of people might be watching—but I didn't care.

As my wife began rocking back and forth, I stared at her magnificent tits, and I noticed a spot on her chest where she hadn't quite wiped off all the jizz from the shorter guy. To be honest, I was so horny that I only lasted a few minutes before unloading my own jets of cum deep into her. And even though she was the one who was doing most of the work, I found myself breathing hard from the intensity of release.

My wife continued riding my still hard cock, quickening her pace and grinding her pelvis into me while she leaned back. Our combined juices leaked from inside of her and onto my balls as she swiveled her hips and flexed her thigh muscles. My wife's eyes were partially closed, and she had a look of intense concentration.

Soon the unmistakable signs of an orgasm rippled across her face and body. Her lower lip was curled as she let out a series of deep groans followed by a long exhale. When she lifted herself off me, I could see her engorged vulva and I watched as a stream of my semen dribbled down her leg.

By that point, the light was fading quickly and the desert air was cooling. I got up and we both hurriedly dressed, not bothering to get cleaned up. As we set off for the park entrance, I noticed my wife looking back wistfully in the direction of where the guys had been.

Lost in our own thoughts, neither of us said anything as we hiked back. I remember trying to process the events of the day. I thought about all the great photos I had, and which ones I might post; I thought about my conflicted emotional state as I watched from afar; I replayed the look of my wife climaxing on top of me; and most of all, I thought about the fact that somewhere out there were two guys with an amazing story to tell.