“My friend Genevieve called. She asked if you’d be interested in a weekend with her, her husband, and a few other couples.”
My mother, bless her heart, was always looking out for me. This time, she’d decided I needed another job to cover the costs of my third year at college.
“They’ll pay you $100 per day. They want you to set up their campsite, collect wood, then go fishing with them and perhaps do some cleaning and tidying in the camp. They’ll cook for you, so don’t worry—you won’t poison them.”
“Cheeky bitch!” I laughed out loud to her amusement. She wasn’t too far off with the cooking bit.
“The guys apparently hunt and hike a fair bit, so I’m sure they’d appreciate some company for their security when they’re gone—seeing as you’re so BIG and STRONG!” She was taking the absolute piss now as she squeezed my biceps.
It was, however, agreed. I’d accompany my mother’s friends for a few days away in the forest—it was a beautiful, dense woodland beside a wide, flat, rock-bottomed river with a coarse sand bank. The sort of water you can see 10 feet in because it’s so crystal clear. The air smelled of damp and sun and of spring all year. It invigorated the lungs, and by accident, the soul.
After we’d driven the few hours, I set to work on the rusty poles and bent pegs as I stretched the five tents into a wide circle, with about 15 feet between. I’d set my tent up away from the group—given my role for the weekend was to kind of be there but not seen or heard.
With a collection of the larger river rocks fashioning a neat fireplace in the center of the circle, there is enough room for camp chairs and so forth between the fire and the tents. I’d done a good job and was duly proud. After the initial setup, I went about collecting dry seasoned wood and neatly stacking it near the fireplace.
I was pooped. A light lunch and a swim in the river had me fully worn.
I headed to my abode and read for a while—some magazine I’d purchased before my trip home for break. My lights eventually went out with the quiet afternoon. The last thing I remembered was the resounding ‘pop’ of a champagne bottle and the giggles that so often go along.
Some time later…
Genevieve teased the tent open.
“You awake?” she whispered into the nothingness inside.
From my semi-sleep, I became aware of someone’s company. Stirring, I looked up from my pillow to the source of the voice I either just heard or imagined I did.
Looking towards the door, I could see the outline of a female figure, backlit by the flickering of the campfire beyond the tents. There was a stillness in the air that you just don’t get in the city. A peacefulness that comes from having no one around, no traffic, no worries about work, nothing.
“Yeah, I’m awake. I’d decided that the person was real. I must have dozed off.
“I’ll come out in a second. I’ll just put something warmer on.” I’d been asleep long enough to miss the chill rising as the sun fell behind the distant snow-capped mountain. I threw on some fleecy track pants and a matching pullover and made my way over to the fire.
Looking around, it became obvious that there was a significant portion of the crew missing.
“Where is everyone?” I asked out of interest. All the husbands were missing. Around the fire sat Emma, Taylah, Portia, and Genevieve as she rejoined the group. Each had a champagne glass in their hands or neatly stored by their side.
“They do this,” Portia murmured in a matter-of-fact tone. I picked up a note of disappointment or resignation.
“Are they off hunting or something?”
“You could say that, I guess.” She replied. “In a way, I guess they’re hunting.”
My sideways glance towards the others must’ve told them of my lack of coherence.
“They’re probably drunk over in the next clearing.” This time Emma spoke up. As she finished, she raised the luminous glass to her lips. The fire flickered in its reflection. She wore a pink beanie, with her long, wavy hair escaping its grasp as it cascaded over each shoulder.
My gaze lingered for just a moment. She looked like she could be getting off a chairlift at some exclusive ski resort. The air was chilled, but she wore her clothes like they were a defense against some invisible threat.
“You can go and join them if you want, but you may not like what you see.” Emma was starting to speak like the language; she was telling me with her body. She was uncomfortable with something, more like upset.
“At least go and have a peek for us. Come back with some intel,” Portia spoke, half-jokingly. She was seemingly trying to lighten the mood. She spoke warmly, but her face was hardened, like she was trying to carry herself in a more positive tone than she was currently articulating.
Pity, I thought. She was very pretty with her thick black glasses over her black, straight shoulder-length hair. She was wearing a bone-colored long-sleeved fleece that was fitted to her shapely body as though it were designed with her in mind.
I marveled at her for a moment—there simply wasn’t a crease or fabric fold where there shouldn’t be one. Her top looked comfortable but also as though it were sprayed on her. She wore it with quiet confidence that I was sure she never spoke of but was fully aware of.
“Uh. Ok.” My brow furrowed, despite trying to act confident. What? The. What the fuck were these guys up to?
I cautiously adjusted my trackpants a moment before I stood. I’d been remiss in putting underwear on but wasn’t about to demonstrate that to four wives.
I traipsed away from the warm crackling of the fire to the sound of another champagne bottle popping behind me. Through the dimly lit track that led away from the campsite, I made my way down the twists and turns of the densely vegetated woods. The smell of pine and cedar from the canopy combined with the moist vines and shrubs beneath. The rosemary scent and glimpses of coyote bush dappled the forming dew. As my shoulder brushed the low-hanging leaves, a trail of dew lingered on the pullover, eventually making it saturated in spots.
As the light assisting me from the fire fell away, I could see the flickering of some sort of artificial light through the canopy. A few more trips and wet shoulders later, I came into the clearing. It was adjacent to the high-water mark of the river. It’s babbling and gurgling, hiding any noise being emitted from the device.
Around the device, I could make out bodies lying motionless. Their sleeping mats were arranged in a circle surrounding what looked like a laptop or tablet screen.
As I made my way towards them, the dense scent of something else became obvious. Its dank pungency grew more familiar the closer I got to the makeshift meeting point.
Pot. The realization of the fact these guys were all probably stoned to sleep was rattled by my kicking the shit out of something as I made my way to them. A tinny sound echoed over the babble of the freshwater stream as a can bounced over the grass and rocks to its resting place a few feet from the nearest body.
Glancing down, I caught a glimpse of some unopened rum cans next to the light of what was now definitely a tablet.
Fucking great. They’re stoned and pissed. Fuckwits.
I strode over to them with a bit more determination now. They were all passed out, lying around a small tablet. The stench of pot and the multitude of cans around the mess of limbs are enraging me. Why the fuck would you leave gorgeous women—their very own wives—to sit around and entertain each other while these knobs snuck down here for a childish joint and sneaky rums?
I looked at the screen. “Fucking losers!” I blurted out loud to all of them, but not at the same time.
Porn. They were watching porn together down here. Pissed, stoned, and watching some poor girl get gangbanged by four ugly, hairy, fat assholes on a single mattress in a two-bit hotel room by the looks of it.
“Dickheads.” My final thought, out loud, as I turned in disgust and made my way back to the campfire and some good company.
I emerged back into the campsite. The smoke rose steadily in a straight column, and the clearing was lit like it was a deliberate ploy of a realtor on open home day. The tall cedar and pines towered, their bulk standing guard against any winds or storm, while the undergrowth surrounded the camp, holding everyone near and dear while keeping the surrounding woods obscured. A private sanctuary.
“What are they up to?” It was Emma. Her head tilted in my direction. Glass half full, with her feet on a nearby chair that was supposedly for a husband to enjoy.
“Not much. They’re pretty settled.” My reply didn’t even convince me, so how could I expect it to do anything for these wise ladies?
“What do you mean ‘settled’?” It was Taylah. She apparently cut through bullshit when she suspected it.
“I mean, they’re very settled down there. I don’t think you’ll see them for a while.”
Taylah glanced at Emma. Emma returned the look. She sniggered to herself.
“They’re pissed, aren’t they?” She seemed exasperated. Like it wasn’t the first time she was saying this.
“I don’t know.”
They all stopped for what seemed like an eternity.
“Well…” Genevieve spoke slowly and deliberately. “What do YOU THINK they are?” She was staring straight at me. My pullover was saturated on my shoulders, and the moisture was starting to gather at the center.
“I think you’re correct, Genevieve.” I hesitated. Fuck it, I thought to myself. These assholes.
“I think they’re pissed, stoned, and passed out. I also think they’re disgusting and selfish.”
The group was silent. To the point that I thought I was going to get a piece of their mind at being so brash towards their husbands. I was anticipating “Oh, you don’t know how hard they work” or “They’re just letting off steam” or “Let them be, it’s just a bit of harmless fun.”
Silence. They all seemed lost in their own thoughts out here. There were a few empty champagne bottles by the fire. I reached down to grab them and take them away. As I did, Portia finished off her glass. It had been half full moments ago. She collected the half bottle remaining next to her and filled hers and Taylah’s glass.
“Why?” The silence was broken. Emma. “Why drag us out here for a nice weekend and then go all childish down there in the boy club with teenage spliffs and stolen tins like your parents are away? What were they doing down there?”
I took a look out into the distance. I saw the cars all pulled up; I remembered the excitement of getting here and the setup. It was perhaps all bravado by these guys. Perhaps one of them led the others astray. “Fuck that,” I reasoned, “they are all old enough.” There’s no excuse.
“Porn,” I said firmly.
“They’re watching porn.”
“What the fuck!” Genevieve spoke for all.
I continued, “A shitty gangbang on someone’s tablet. Some poor girl being manhandled by four of the ugliest assholes you’d ever see.”
They all briefly looked at each other and then at the ground. The fire crackled. A plume of sparks flew as one of the logs collapsed.
I couldn’t contain my disappointment. “I’m sorry, but I’m off to bed. I hope you all have a lovely evening.” I popped the top off the last bottle of champagne, handed it over to Taylah, stripped my wet pullover off, and hung it over the back of one of the seats near the fire. I was aware of eyes following me as I laid my shirt over the seat. I headed to my tent.
“Hang on.” It was Genevieve. “Answer me this before you go.”
I turned to face the collective. My moist skin was tight with the cool air.
“Are we really that ugly that you’d rather watch a skanky porn flick than hang out with us?”
“I’m sorry?” I stammered. I was aware of the question but flummoxed as to how to answer it.
“Let me put it simply. Would you rather beat off to a hairy-backed four or have the real deal with us?
I took my cue as my mind raced for the words. “I’m not either of your husbands, but I know what I’d choose any fucking day of the week.”
Genevieve’s face softened. “Is that a compliment?” she countered.
“It’s reality.” My confidence was growing. What could happen, I reasoned? Would one of these ladies wake their drunk, stoned husband to tell them I’d started flirting with them? I thought not.
“You each hold yourselves far too well to be treated like this.” I’d started down a slippery slope.
“What do you mean by ‘hold yourselves’?” Portia leaned in towards the conversation.
“Do I have to say it? I don’t think I have to.” My hands fell by my side. My position settled. I was comfortable with what I’d said.
“Yes. You have to say it.” Genevieve again.
“Jesus. You’re all fucking gorgeous. You’re all confident. You all carry an attractiveness that goes beyond physical.”
All eyes lit up. My heart jumped. I became aware of my being without a shirt.
Raised eyebrows met each other in the gathered collection.
“Any particular examples you’d like to point out?” Portia. She’d been quiet.
“Your figure. Your fleece looks like it was made with you in mind.” I shot back. The recoil nearly dropped me.
“And her?” Portia nodded towards Genevieve.
“Eyes, without a doubt. The glimmer of green eyes in this fire.”
“Emma?”
“Hair. It cascades out of that beanie. You’ve just stepped off a chairlift in Aspen.”
“Taylah?”
“Legs. They glow in this fire. I can see your definition from here.”
“You’re very observant.”
“No more than anyone else lucky enough to be here. I’ve just got the guts to say it. Your husbands aren’t up to it right now. More fool them.”
“Agreed,” Taylah. She’d become more energetic.
“Ok,” Emma piped up. “Fuck it. I say you get to pick one of us, and that person can do something related to what you said about them to highlight that feature. If it’s Portia, it’s her figure; if it’s Taylah, her legs; if it’s Genevieve, her eyes; and if it’s me, my hair.”
“No way.” I recoiled at the thought. “I can’t choose! I’d pick all of you. You could scissor, paper, rock it.”
“Ha, nice. This’ll be fun. Turn around so it’s a surprise.”
“Not a worry in the world with that arrangement.” My heart was starting to pound in my chest.
I turned and faced away from the campsite fire. Facing the tents and cars, I took in the smell of the woods, the fire, and the sense of calm that it brought. A fire seemed to lower everyone’s guard. Mind you, a few champagnes seemed to be helping. There was no other noise. I was almost in a trance. It was interrupted…
“Ok. Close your eyes. We have a winner!”
“Close my eyes?”
“Yep. It’ll be a surprise for you.”
Not to argue, I followed instructions. I closed my eyes. A soft small hand reached out and took mine. Its touch was gentle and warm. I was led near the fire. I could feel the warmth soaking into my bare skin, the heat running up my back in a relieving wave.
A hand pushed at the back of my knees, encouraging me to kneel. A towel had been placed on the ground for me.
My heart raced.
“Keep your eyes closed.” The voice was Genevieve’s, but I couldn’t tell if it was her in front of me.
Camp chairs were being moved and dragged. They came closer and seemingly stopped a couple feet away from me, on my knees with my back being warmed by the gentle fire crackling away behind me.
“Ok. Open.”
Glimpsing past the veil of eyelid, I became aware of a strong, shaped calf muscle lying across in front of me. On top, Taylah had her other leg sitting on top, her right thigh a mere foot from my position. She had her legs crossed and sitting on another empty camp chair. The others were seated in a circle that included me in it.
I immediately had to catch myself from reaching out and sliding my hand up her shapely legs. They looked smooth and exfoliated. They were brown and strong. As part of her treat, she’d either lifted her shorts higher to hide them or had taken them off and pulled down her hoodie. Either way, there was no garment obvious below her hoodie. This only exacerbated the look and the length of her legs.
“Holy shit!” My response was infantile but a reflex to the sight that I had before me.
I looked up to Taylah, who sat with a champagne glass in hand. Green hoodie pulled down over her waist. Indicating her legs, I asked, “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Her reply, blunt as I’d become accustomed to.
I reached out with my right hand and dragged my upturned hand down her calf from just below her knee. Letting my fingernails just touch her skin. I’d hoped to elicit a response—preferably goosebumps.
I flipped my hand over and used my fingertips on the return journey. I was able to take in just how smooth her legs were. My fingers traced up and over the lean definition.
Goosebumps started to appear.
I returned on the trip twice more, each slower than the previous. Each is a little higher in its start and end point.
I repeated my question, “Do you mind if I?”
“Let’s see,” came the reply.
It is time to either make or break this evening.
I gently wrapped my hand around her right ankle and slowly lifted it up and off her lower leg. Swinging it around to sit on the other side of me, Talyah was facing me now. I caught a glimpse of pink underwear under her lowered hoodie. She’d taken off her shorts, leaving her in her sheer panties.
“Do you mind if…”
“No.” The replies were becoming curt.
I did the same action now, but with both legs at the same time. I was able to start at both ankles, slide up the back of her legs to the back of her knees, and then swing around to the front and move more and more up her thighs.
“Oh my god.” I’d started mumbling to myself. The goosebumps were obvious on both of Taylah’s legs. It wasn’t from the cold; someone had replenished the wood.
Each of the other three was sitting silently, taking in the view, or the show, or the spectacle. I had no idea what they were thinking.
Fuck asking anymore, I thought. I’ll know if I go too far.
I placed both hands on her knees. Looking up at her, I felt her legs separate ever so slightly. I eased them apart. Leaned in and kissed her inner thigh on her left leg. Her legs seemed to spread further for me. I lingered as I took in the smooth, firm tone of her skin. She tasted like velvet on the palate. Rich and smooth.
I swapped legs, tenderly kissing both inner legs, well beyond what is allowed under the contract of marriage she’d taken.
Looking up, her eyes were dilated and fixed on me. I could see her breath had shortened by how her chest was rising and falling. The goosebumps on both legs were pronounced.
I moved my attention further and further up her shapely thighs.
Taylah’s breathing continued to shorten.
In one smooth motion, I locked my hands around the back of her knees and pulled her towards me. As she slid forward, I lifted her hoodie up and over her waist. Without permission, I slid one finger under her panties and pulled them to the side.
Her lips were smooth and warm. Moist to the touch. Keeping the momentum, I leaned in and ran my tongue between her labia. Smooth and velvety. She smelled fresh and clean, smooth as her legs.
Taylah’s head rocked back as I slid my tongue over her pussy, all while her three friends watched on.
I lowered myself and ran my tongue between her labia, working my way inside. She was moist between her lips, so I was able to drive my tongue deeper and deeper. As I slid my warm tongue up, I found her engorged clit. I flicked over it a few times before working my way back down to the base of her pussy.
Taylah’s breathing became more and more strained. I pulled her back onto my tongue with my hands back around her knees.
“Jesus!” Genevieve, who was sitting on my right, blurted. “This has escalated!”
As she said this, Talyah’s head rocked further back, and she brought a hand around from behind her and rested it on my head, gently pulling me in towards her. I could see a patch of trimmed pubic hair above her clit. She brought her other hand around and used it to tug her panties further to the side.
She raised her knees further up, allowing her to spread them further apart for me.
“I don’t know if we should be watching this.” Genevieve again.
I paused for a moment – “Stay. Please.” – before resuming pleasuring Taylah.
I was now able to plunge my tongue deep inside Taylah. She was wet.
Her panting became audible as the force on the back of my head increased. I slowed long enough to offer her two fingers, which I did by sliding my hand up the inside of her hoodie, over her abs, between her breasts and up to her mouth. She eagerly took them into her mouth, taking them as deep as she could. Once they were wet, I slid my hand back down, over her erect nipples, before easing them inside her waiting pussy.
Looking up as I ground my palm against her clit, I hooked my fingers and started gently massaging her G-spot with an up and down motion.
As I looked around, I could see all eyes squarely on Taylah and me. Emma had a hand resting on her crotch. Portia had covertly cupped one of her breasts while Genevieve sat motionless.
I quipped, “Perhaps you three could scissor, paper, rock?”
“I’ll go.” Portia. The body of a teenage dream. The silhouette of a centerfold in this light. She was quite short in her tone.
I returned to flicking Taylah’s clit while my fingers worked her g-spot. She started to buck up against me as her pleasure grew. She thrust a hand up her top and cradled one of her tits as she pulled my head in towards her cunt. Her pelvic thrusts against me were obvious now.
“Ohhhhhh,” she started to moan above her breathing.
A bone-colored fleece, then a bra, was strewn on the chair next to me as I watched in my periphery. Knees settled on either side of me from behind, and I felt two arms wrap around my naked torso, then the warmth as naked skin pressed against my back.
Portia leaned in towards me and whispered to me and the group, “My body, hey? How does this feel?” She pressed her ample breasts against me. I could feel her sharp nipples press into me as the soft flesh compressed and crowded my back.
I wrapped my spare hand around behind her and pulled her up against me as tight as I could.
The rhythm of Taylah’s thrusting continued to rise. Her vocal gasps increased. She took her hand off the back of my head in favor of cupping both of her breasts, one under her top, one over the top. She leaned further and further back, spreading her legs further for me to access her depths. Her clit was pronounced. How? I took to sucking it and kneading it between my lips.
Behind me, Portia’s hands slid below my waist and under my track pants. My cock was thumping with the blood straining at the tip. She tried to wrap a hand around my shaft but had to readjust her grip.
“Holy fuck, you’re thick!”
My cock—only seven inches when fully erect—is, by my own admission, girthy. Portia brought her second hand around and grasped my shaven balls, while the other hand gently stroked up and down my venous shaft. She’d pause on my circumcised head, pressing her fingers into the helmet, then glide it back down to the base, all while her other hand cradled my balls.
I started to fuck her hand as her firm tits pressed into me and I brought Taylah closer to her climax.
I could see that Genevieve had slipped a hand beneath her pants and was caressing herself while watching us.
As I looked up at her and our eyes met, I couldn’t work out if she realized that she’d been sprung or if she herself realized that she’d started masturbating. Either way, it seemed to fire up her action. She grabbed another towel and went behind Portia. I felt her knees separate further, then a hand on my thighs guided my knees further apart to suit me.
The towel was placed between both our legs, and then I felt her wiggle between my knees, sliding up on her back.
Genevieve reached up from under me and wrapped each hand around the waistbelt of my pants before pulling them down, setting free my aching cock. It bounced against its own rigidity, standing erect. It’s protruding veins popping in the firelight.
“My eyes, hey? How do they look now then?” Genevieve grabbed my thick shaft, taking over from Portia. She lowered my cock and slid the tip into her mouth.
I paused eating out Talyah’s cunt and sat up for a moment just to watch my cock disappear into this wife’s mouth as her green, almond-shaped eyes looked up at me. Her pupils were dilated as she eagerly tried to fit as much of me into her mouth as possible.
Here I was, eating out one pussy, with another’s gorgeous body pressing into me from behind as I was having my penis pleasured from beneath me.
Reaching behind me, I grasped Genevieve’s back, pressing her against me yet again. I then slid my hands down to her ass and grabbed the waistbelt of her pants, eagerly trying to lower them. She’d taken control of my shaft and was holding it steady for Genevieve to suck. Genevieve had, in turn, taken control of massaging my balls as she looked up at me.
My cock looked too thick for her to manage, but she was eagerly stuffing the tip inside her, and I could feel my cock’s head hitting the back of her throat as I started to gently fuck her mouth.
Taylah was now starting to moan with each breath. She tugged her hoodie up and took each breast in her hands as she lifted her bra. I felt her abs contract as she sat up for a moment, lifted her hoodie off, and undid her bra. She threw both to the side and lay back where she was. She kneaded her nipples and squeezed her own tits.
I raised the rate of my finger thrusting inside her yet again as I madly flicked her clit with my tongue. She lifted one of her nipples and took it in her own mouth, which effectively stifled her own cries of pleasure. Her thrusting against me was manic.
Behind me, Portia had pulled her pants to the ground and had worked one leg out of them. I took my free hand and dove it under her panties and straight into her pussy. I easily slid two fingers straight into her. She responded to my bucking up against them by pressing her chest tighter against me.
Underneath, Genevieve had started undoing the buttons on her flannel top. The red and white checker pattern made her eyes pop as they looked up at me, past my meaty shaft. I wished I had a third hand that I could help her undo the buttons with, but each was inside a different pussy.
Behind me, I used the fingers inside Portia to pull her closer to me as I ran them up and down her opening and just inside, then up between her ass cheeks. She felt so firm.
Genevieve slid a little more down and took my balls in her mouth. She lapped her tongue over and around each one before taking one in her mouth at a time. She’d finished undoing her buttons, and the flannel fell to either side. She wore a white bra underneath with a front fastening.
Portia took over my cock, slowly jerking me from the base to the tip while I ran my fingers from her pussy, inching closer to her asshole.
The next time I went up from inside her pussy, I paused my wet fingers on her rosebud opening. I didn’t force anything but lingered a moment on her asshole, then went back down inside her waiting cunt. She suddenly moved from kneeling to squatting behind me. I understood why a moment later when she lowered each breast onto a shoulder and used her forearms to squeeze them against the side of my head.
Below, Genevieve reached for her bra and popped it open. Her freckly bust tumbled from its enclosure. Her head bobbed on my throbbing balls as she grasped herself with her spare hand, bringing her nipples together so that she could massage both at once.
Taylah had all but arched herself off the chair in front of me as she bucked and wailed. She continued to kiss her own nipples as my hand became a blur inside her. I felt the front wall of her vagina begin to tighten. I took my hand from Portia and the moisture from her pussy to flick my fingers over Taylah’s clit. Doing this meant I had both hands massaging her cunt, so I lifted my head and took in the spare nipple that she wasn’t sucking.
She bucked and thrashed.
Her cries echoed out over the campsite.
Her pussy started convulsing as we kissed and sucked her tits together.
She rode the orgasm by lifting her knees higher and fucking my fingers in a frenzied blur of action.
Then she relaxed.
“Oh my Jesus!” She was exasperated.
Behind me, Portia took the opportunity and stood. She came around in front of me, between Taylah and me, and kneeled over Genevieve.
From here, Portia was able to offer me her tits, which I eagerly took. She squeezed them together for me so that I could take both nipples in my mouth at once. I used both hands—my right to slide back inside her slick pussy. She was so wet, so warm. My left hand, I wrapped around her and massaged her asshole with.
Beneath us, Genevieve worked back down to my cock and took it back inside her mouth. She massaged her own breasts with one hand, while her other slipped down and between her legs.
I used the same g-spot massage inside Portia as I had Taylah. I could feel her clit as well. Behind, I had worked a fingertip into her ass, using moisture from her pussy, which I collected by dropping my finger down between her ass and bringing it back up.
Taylah stayed in the chair in front of us, naked as the day she was born, and started playing with herself as she watched our play unfold.
To the side, Emma sat, watching from her vantage.
Beneath me, Genevieve stopped and wriggled up so that her head was squarely under Portia. From here, she raised her hips and pulled down her pants, kicking off each leg and casting them to the side, near where Emma sat.
Without hesitating, Genevieve now sat up and took my hand from inside Portia. She lifted herself and landed her tongue square on Portia’s pussy, licking her from underneath.
Portia jumped at the sensation of a tongue inside her. I kept my other hand teasing her asshole.
It was time. Moreover, my time was running out. My balls ached, and my cock throbbed.
I lowered myself down and quickly ran my cock head over Genevieve’s cunt opening. Without asking or teasing, I plunged my cock as deep inside her as I could. The first thrust got about a third of my seven inches inside her. Her lips strained against my girth. She was wet, almost sopping. I raised up out of her and slammed back again. Her cry rang out as she continued to lick her friend’s pussy from underneath. The second time, I got three quarters inside her.
She moaned a deep, chesty gasp. The third thrust got me as far inside her as I could get. My waist came to rest against hers. I took a moment to savor being seven inches deep inside this gorgeous wife.
Genevieve wrapped her legs around me and braced to be fucked. I slammed down as hard as I could on her. The towel beneath did little to absorb the force as I drove all I had inside her.
I encouraged Portia to bring her legs down either side of us and brace her body up off the ground using her arms. From here, both Genevieve and I could both lick her pussy at the same time. She’s from underneath, I’m from on top.
And so it was, as I drove my thick venous shaft deep inside Genevieve, we both licked and pleasured Portia. I had to take my hand away from her ass to brace myself. Genevieve and I were able to make out, with our tongues meeting as they both slid in and out of Portia. We each shared her pussy juice, exchanging our tongues from her pussy to each other’s mouths.
Genevieve, Portia, and I became a frenzy of sexual energy. Exchanging gasps, moans, and cries of pleasure. I pounded Genevieve until I thought her pelvis would give out; I could feel the wall of her cervix as I plunged inside her. The ground refused to take any of the force.
“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum!” Portia. She continued, “I don’t want to cum till I’ve had your cock!”
I stopped my thrusting, as deep as I could get inside Genevieve. Forcefully pressing myself into her.
Speaking to Genevieve from the other side of Portia’s cunt, I asked her if I could be excused for a moment.
“As long as I get you back.” Came her reply.
I climbed to my feet and took Portia’s hand. Led her to Emma’s chair.
“Can we borrow you for a moment?”
“Sure.” Emma sat up as I turned Portia around to sit on her lap.
As she did, I plunged straight into Portia and immediately started thrusting into her with the same force I had with Genevieve moments ago.
The gusto with which I slammed into Portia made her tits bounce. This motivation only caused me to push harder. I could see Emma being rocked with the force she was absorbing through Portia. Portia immediately went into a crying mass of pleasure as she pushed back up against me. Emma’s hands came around and grasped Portia’s tits in an effort to calm their recoil.
“Oh FUCK!” Portia was starting to climax. So was I.
“Oh FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
To our side, Genevieve had two fingers inside herself as she massaged her tits with her other hand.
As I felt Portia start to tense, I slowed my rhythm down to a more pronounced, heavy, slower thrust. She put a hand down and rubbed her clit.
A rustle in the bushes behind us alerted the group, and a bewildered middle-aged man walked through—all daggers in his eyes and mumbles in his voice.
“I’m going to bed, Em, darlin.” The figure panted towards the group as he staggered by in a pose half asleep, half horizontal, but somehow was able to still move.
I had paused; in moments of panic, I believed he was stone-cold sober and would see the transgressions taking place. After his mumbled sentence and taking in his negligible ability to walk, we could all relax. I resumed and couldn’t take any more. My balls had tensed beyond control. The idea of Em’s husband seeing me balls deep inside the lady sitting on his wife’s lap tipped me. A few long rough thrusts, watching Emma struggle to keep Portia under control on her lap, was all I could manage.
I pulled out my cock and stepped to the side of Portia. I stroked myself a few times until I could feel the swell inside me. The first shot landed at my feet. The second shot crossed the gap between Emma and me and splashed her waist, the third hit her throat, and the fourth and fifth landed in her hair. By this stage, Genevieve had reacted and got on her knees and took my cock in her mouth. The last few shots went down the back of her throat. The sight was something unbelievable.
As we all calmed, the door to Emma’s tent was open—within, we could see a pair of fully dressed legs, complete with hiking boots. He was done.
Emma was wiping the mess off her chin and waist, wiping it onto the material on her legs when she was the first to speak.
“Any chance of keeping this between us?” She looked directly at me. The rest of the group were silent in their concurrence.
