I’ve known Roger and Pamela for about five years. I met them not long after moving to southern Oregon. They introduced me to the wonders of this beautiful part of the country, from the waterfalls to the redwood forests to the coastline. We spent many camping weekends together along with some of their other friends. They are in their mid-fifties and are both quite fit. You’d never know by looking at her that Pamela has borne two boys.
There is something about her, in the way she carries herself. She’s not a raving beauty, but she has a confidence about her that is blatantly sexual. She radiates “I could fuck your balls off”. Her love for Roger is equally apparent. I always thought he was damned lucky.
One early summer day we were on a three-day trip to one of the many rivers here, and I was already shoulder-deep in the cold water. There’s a standing joke, “You’re only cold a couple of minutes. Once you go numb it doesn’t bother you.”
Roger was content sitting in the campsite having a beer, but Pamela was slowly edging into the water, commenting on how cold it was. Geez, she was hot looking; I was surprised the water around her wasn’t boiling. She was still able to rock a bikini. I could see goosebumps on the skin of her arms and belly, and her nipples seemed like they were about to pop through the fabric of her top. My dick responded despite the cold water and I was glad it was hidden.
When she was about waist-deep, she pushed off and rolled over onto her back as she floated toward me. “Oh, that’s cold,” she exclaimed. Seeing the swell of her breasts glistening wet with the nipples jutting out against the fabric caused my cock to harden further. When she floated next to me, she tried to stand but slipped on the rocks and went under.
The next thing I knew, her hand was on my crotch and just for a moment she seemed to almost grasp my shaft, then it pulled away and her head came out of the water sputtering. “Geez, I’m sorry. Damned slippery rocks,” she said. Her face was bright red, not from the cold water, I was guessing. We both glanced at Roger who was tending the fire, oblivious to what had just happened.
“Come on in, Roger,” she hollered.
He replied, “No, thanks. That snow melt water is too cold for me. You polar bears enjoy.”
Pamela sighed and swam away in a breaststroke. I was content to just float there, swimming only enough to keep me from drifting downstream. Luckily, we were at a rather wide, deep spot where the current near the bank was very slow. After about a half hour I decided I was numb enough and returned to the campsite to warm up by the fire. A few minutes later Pamela came walking back, too. She was so fucking delicious looking. Damned dick started rising again, so I rearranged the towel to make sure it didn’t show.
We’d all been swimming in various places before, even shared hot springs together, and I’d never reacted like this. It was as if she was radiating more than usual. She gave Roger a quick kiss and walked off to their RV trailer to get dressed. What a fine ass! Just a little cottage-cheesy and a sweet wiggle.
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed with us sitting around the fire, deciding on what to do tomorrow, and eating the supper Pamela fixed in the trailer. I’ve always been a tent person myself, but I must admit there are advantages to having a kitchen with you. Fortunately, with Pamela dressed in t-shirt and baggy shorts, there were no more potentially embarrassing rises from my cock. Eventually we headed to bed, they to their trailer, me to my tent.
I’ve reached the age where I can’t do sleeping on the ground anymore, so I have an oversize cot and a tent large enough to hold it comfortably. It’s really a sweet setup and no harder to put up and tear down than any other tent I’ve had. There’s also plenty of room left over for personal stuff, or even another person sleeping on the floor. It was a warm night, and I hadn’t seen any mosquitoes, so I left the flap of the tent open. That way, I could see the river in the moonlight and the river sounds weren’t muffled.
As I lay there on my side, gazing out at the moon sparkling on the flowing water, I could see Pamela’s wet breasts glistening in my mind. God, she was one fine woman. I wondered if Roger was getting some of that right then. The trailer was stable enough, they could fuck like rabbits and nobody would know.
My dick started getting hard at the combined thoughts of Pamela’s body and her fucking Roger. As I lay there fantasizing about slipping her bikini off and tasting her body, I closed my eyes, pulled my shorts down a bit, and began stroking my cock. The positioning of their trailer and my tent made it safe, even with the flap open, especially in the dark.
Between my imagination and physical stimulation, I was rock hard in a few moments. I kept a slow, steady stroke going, just enjoying the mixture of thoughts and sensations, imagining Pamela’s mouth and breasts providing the feeling of my hand. A bit of precum bubbled up on the tip and I spread it around with my thumb, then put my thumb to my tongue and licked off the residue. I’ve always liked the flavor of my precum.
As my hand returned to my shaft, I heard a whimper. I froze.
Opening my eyes, I saw Pamela kneeling at the tent opening. She was backlit by the moon’s reflections on the water, but by the position of her head I guessed that her eyes were fixed on my dick. A moment of horror, then I realized her hand was between her legs. As rationality settled in, I could just barely see (blessed full moon) her lips parted, her nipples obvious under her t-shirt (no bra), and the action of her hand said she was at work on her pussy.
Then, apparently, she realized I was no longer stroking myself, and her head turned toward my face. For a moment we just stared at each other in the tree-shadowed moonlight. Then she quietly asked, like a little girl, “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I replied, but didn’t move, just laid there with my rock-hard cock in my hand watching her. She crawled in on all fours, coming to a sitting position next to my cot about halfway between my head and groin. The top of the tent is mesh, about two-foot square, usually covered by a rain fly, but with no chance of rain I’d left it off for better ventilation. It let enough moonlight in that I could see her better now.
Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, then closed; the fingers that had been working on her crotch came to her nose, then she quickly dropped her hand to her lap. She seemed quite confused and out of place. Still, I didn’t move, just lay there watching her as best I could.
After what seemed to be several minutes, but probably wasn’t nearly that long, she looked up at my dick and said, “You’re so big.”
Really? That was surprising to me, since I’d always thought of myself as rather ordinary. She started to reach for it but stopped just short of touching the head. I moved my hips out and lifted it, causing the glans to brush her fingertips. Taking that as the okay it was meant to be, she began tracing the head with her fingers, spreading another small dab of precum around.
“My first lover was large, like you,” she said in a far-off voice. “Then we broke up and I met Roger.” A small sigh and she continued, “I’ve always loved him so much, but he’s small. I thought at first it wouldn’t matter, but over the years I find myself missing the feeling of being filled. We’ve tried dildoes, but they just aren’t the same.”
Her hand wrapped around mine as she looked into my eyes and said, “I’ve never thought of being unfaithful to Roger, but after accidentally feeling you today, and realizing it had to be because of me, I’m thinking now that may be possible. I really want to feel filled up again by a real dick. At least once.” Her voice had taken on a plaintive, almost begging tone, and her hand began to move mine on my cock.
“Roger’s asleep. A bear could tear through the side of the trailer and he’d sleep to sunrise. Fill me up, Steve. Please fill me up.”
Shit, there’s no way I could refuse. I rolled off the cot to kneel in front of her. She lifted her arms as I pulled her t-shirt off, then lay on her back as I removed her shorts. There were no panties. In the moonlight her breasts were as wonderful as I’d imagined. I could smell the passion wafting from her and hoped I could last long enough to give her what she needed.
I stood as best I could in the tent, she pulled my shorts down and I stepped out of them. Her hands went to my cock, wrapping around it, tugging on it, pulling it to her mouth. Oh, geez, I was ready to shoot as her lips encircled the shaft and her tongue swabbed around the head. She milked out what had to be a huge dollop of precum, then sucked as she slid her lips off. “Mmmm,” she said. “Fuck me, Steve. Fill my cunt with your cock. I want to feel you cum deep in me.”
She lay back with her legs spread wide and knees up. The scent of woman in heat was overpowering. When I positioned myself over her, she grabbed my cock and guided it in. When I felt the head enter her well of hot silky wetness, I sank to the hilt in one quick motion. “Oh, fuck,” she cried. “Oh, God, it’s good. Fuck me.” She pulled her hand out, brought her legs up to lock her ankles around my waist, and began rocking her hips. I pulled out until only the head remained, then dropped back into her. We synced our rhythms quickly.
The night air was filled with the sounds of ragged breathing, moans, gasps, and squishy wetness. She was tighter than I’d expected and as we continued pumping against each other I could feel her muscles working on my cock. I slowed some, pressing hard against her when I bottomed, grinding on her clit before pulling out and driving back in.
“Oh, God, you’re hitting my cervix. It’s been so long, Steve. So fucking long. Fuck me, Steve. Cum deep inside me.” Her nectar was flowing, coating my balls. I thought of a puddle of pussy juice on the floor and figured my tent would never be the same again.
A stream of babbling verbiage came from her, begging me to fuck her, harder, deeper, to make her cum. Then she did, with a squeal she muffled into my shoulder. Her legs clamped down on my waist, her arms squeezed so tight she lifted herself against me, and her body went rigid except for the quivering of her climax.
I could feel her pussy muscles milking my cock and that put me over the edge. Even though I was as deep in her as I could be, I slammed her down onto the tent floor and pumped against her as I sent squirt after squirt of semen against her cervix. Each one brought a whole-body spasm and a squeal from her.
Eventually our orgasms subsided, our bodies relaxed somewhat, even though our breathing was still as if we’d just run five miles. “Oh, God, that was good. I needed it so bad,” she sighed. My dick softened and she sighed/moaned as I slipped out of her and rolled over onto my side next to her. She wrapped her left hand around my now soft cock, wiped off the residue, then held her hand over her nose. “I love this smell of fresh sex.”
Then she reached down and scooped up my cum as it was flowing out of her. “Do you have something I can wipe this up with? I can’t go back to bed next to Roger leaking like this. Damn, that’s a lot of cum. Roger’s never cum that much.” I handed her the small towel I’d planned on catching it with after jerking off. After cleaning herself up, she put her left hand to her nose again, inhaling deeply. “This I’ll keep. Roger will just think I’ve gotten myself off again. He’s pretty much resigned to the fact he can’t fully satisfy me, but he knows I still love him no matter what.”
“Well, I thoroughly enjoyed this. You are one hot woman, Pamela, and I’ve fantasized about you a lot. I was tonight, when you caught me. You’re why I came so much. Any time you need a good fill-up, just let me know. I’ll be glad to oblige.”
She laughed softly and turned to go. I lightly swatted her bare butt as she went through the tent opening. Outside, she turned back to me, caressed her crotch briefly, winked and headed back to her trailer. I slept like a log that night and was glad I could leave the tent flap open to air it out.
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