by Vivian Ward
“I guess we’ll just have to camp next to them,” he shrugs. “There’s not much else we can do.”
Ugh. This is going to suck. I thought that maybe the two of us would have the whole campground site to ourselves. This is our spot because it’s usually so secluded, but even having a couple of neighbors beats staying where almost everyone else goes because it’s always so crowded at the main campsite.
With the sun setting high in the sky, I drink in the breathtaking view of golden streaks swirling around patches of strawberry rays in the sky while Tom builds a fire so we can eat.
It’s not long before the crackle of the fire warms our faces as we roast weiners over the dancing flames. Now that the night is beginning to settle around us, I look up and take note of the shining stars hovering above us. They look like brilliant diamonds twinkling against a sable backdrop.
“Want another beer?” Tom asks, taking one from the cooler.
“Sure,” I mumble, scarfing down the rest of my hot dog.
The sounds of crickets chirping and an occasional owl hooting into the empty sky reminds me why we came—to escape the hustle and bustle of the city.
Well, except for the guys next to us who haven’t stopped partying since we got here. They’re friendly enough though. One of the guys even came over to help Tom put up our tent, and that was nice because I’m terrible at doing stuff like that.
I look over at Tom as the party next door kicks up another notch and I’m reminded of how lucky I am as the moonlight bounces off his face, casting shadows in all the right places.
He returns my glance with an evil grin as he raises his eyebrows, nodding toward the tent. I know exactly what that look means. It says: Honey, I’m horny and I want you now.
There’s something about being surrounded by nature and the open air that does cranks his gears up. Okay, if I’m being honest, it makes me hornier than hell too.
Whatever his excuse, I don’t care because I’ve been dying to be alone with him. He’s so sexy, especially out in the wilderness. There’s something irresistible about watching him kick back with a few beers around the flickering campfire while his deep laughter fills my ears.
“Are you wanting to call it an early night already?” I ask in a playful tone as his shoulders slump, unamused by my question. “But honey, we could sit out here and watch the guys next door make fools of themselves.”
“Yeah, right. You know what I want,” a mischievous smile tugs on the corners of his lips, revealing his perfectly white teeth.
“Well come on, let’s go!” I squeal as I make my way over to our tent.
For added emphasis, I stop at the entrance as I crouch down and wiggle my butt. He bursts into laughter, smacking it as hard as he can.
The loud pop fills the air, shocking me. I look over at the guys next to us to see if they heard it and it’s evident that they did because one of them is staring in our direction.
“Owwww!” the other guy yells.
“Oh my God!” I say to my husband. “Why’d you do that?”
“If you don’t get inside that tent right now, we’re going to be putting on a show outside for them to see,” he says. “Teasing me like that is very naughty.”
“You like this naughty girl,” I tease back.
Chapter 3
Beth
Pulling my shirt over my head, I grin at Tom as an idea fills my head.
“How naughty would you like me to be?” I ask him.
He slides his pants off, revealing his semi-erect cock. Yep, that’s right. He doesn’t wear underwear. My husband goes commando. I think he owns two pairs of boxers for special occasions like weddings or funerals when he puts on a suit, but other than that he never wears them.
I’ve teased him a million times that I don’t know how his balls don’t get chafed. The way he sweats while working on rooftops would make one think that his nut sac would get raw and red, but somehow it doesn’t.
“What do you have in mind?” he says, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
We’ve always been a sexually adventurous couple. I can’t count how many times we’ve had sex outdoors or in public places. The whole aspect of ‘getting caught’ is appealing to us and turns us on.
It’s such a rush to wonder if or when someone will discover you—or even better, when you know they’re watching you but you keep going and put on a good show for them.
One time we were fucking at a park just before sunset not long after we’d gotten married. We made the mistake of thinking that we were alone. There was no one in sight, and everything was quiet.
Tom lifted me onto the hood of his Jeep and started going down on me. Thinking we were alone, I was anything but silent as his tongue fiercely flicked my clit and he finger-fucked me as the chilly breeze tickled my skin.
After teasing me for what felt like forever, he stood on the front bumper and fucked me like it would be the last time he’d ever get to do it again. Half-way through, I felt like someone was watching us—and I was right.
There was a man who appeared to be finishing his evening jog, resting at the picnic tables. He was older, in his late 40’s or early 50’s, and wore a pair of running shorts with a matching shirt. The man was leaning over the table, sucking for air and couldn’t take his eyes off of us.
I remember being startled that he might call the police on us or something, but he didn’t.
“Tom,” I said to him. “There’s a man over by the tables watching us.”
He slowed his movement and looked over toward the picnic area and smiled.
“Yeah? He sure is,” Tom laughed. “Let’s give him a good show.”
Picking up his pace, he continued to fuck me.
“But what if he calls the cops or comes over here?” I asked, trying not to panic.
Even though I was scared, I knew Tom wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. I have always known that as long as Tom’s around, I’m always safe.
“He won’t.”
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
I couldn’t look away from the man as my husband continued to fuck me on the hood of his jeep as the light breeze caused goosebumps to prickle on my skin. The whole time he hammered into me, the stranger and I stared at each other.
Something about the way he couldn’t look away turned me on. It turned on my husband, too. We both knew that we were being watched, and it did something to us—or for us.
This was how we discovered that we were exhibitionists. It was so fucking racy and dirty to let a complete stranger watch my husband impale me in an open place.
As Tom continued to fuck me, the man watched my large breasts bounce with each thrust and began to rub himself through his shorts.
“Tom,” I moaned. “The man is rubbing himself.”
My husband looked at the stranger who was still catching wind from his jog while stroking what was about to become a full-blown erection and looked down at me.
“Let’s show him something he’ll never forget,” he growled in my ear seconds before he licked my throat.
I’m still not sure if it was something my husband did or the excitement of being an exhibitionist for the first time, but I was coming all over his cock within seconds.
Nothing could have stopped me from moaning and calling out Tom’s name, not even the stranger who was intently watching us. As soon as he heard my cries and saw my back arch as my husband fucked me faster, the man pulled his dick out and started jacking off.
Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe I’m mistaken since he was so far away, but I swear to this day that he was jacking off in rhythm to the way Tom’s hips crashed against me.
“Oh god,” I moaned in pleasure to my husband. “He’s got it out, and he’s jacking off!”
My husband looked over at the jogger and smiled.
“Yes, he is,” he nodded at the man.
I can’t describe it, but it was almost like my husband was granting him approval or giving him perm
ission to watch us or something because the man became even more vulgar and really started stroking it.
Ironically, he and Tom both finished around the same time.
After Tom slipped out of me and I climbed down off the hood, the man seemingly disappeared as quickly as he had originally appeared.
Since then, there have been many times where we’ve had sex out in the open with the hopes of ‘getting caught.'
Making out my husband’s features through the darkness of the tent, I pull him closer to me as we listen to the guys next to our campsite continue on with their partying.
“Come here,” I say to him. “I want those guys next door to know what it sounds like for a man to fuck his wife well.”
Even in the darkness of the tent, I can feel my husband’s smile, and for a minute, I think I can see his movie-star teeth.
“By all means, Mrs. Crescent,” Tom says, sliding on top of me. “I think we should.”
His mouth covers mine, and our tongues begin to dance a feverish pitch as his hands start exploring my body.
He breaks our kiss, making my lips beg for more.
“That’s a good start, Mr. Crescent,” I giggle. “Now show me what you’ve really got!”
It takes less than two seconds before he finds the evidence of how turned on I really am. Knowing that the two men next to us are about to hear us and that my husband is going to fuck my brains out while they listen has me so fucking turned on that I’m dripping—literally—in anticipation.
“My, my, my,” he coos. “Mrs. Crescent, you seem to need some extra attention in certain areas. Let me take care of those needs for you.”
God, he’s so fucking sexy!
His head darts between my legs before he starts lapping my juices. The musky smell of my sex fills the tent, and it makes me want him even more.
“I need you,” I whisper, sucking in a deep breath as I say that last word.
The way his tongue twists like a tornado around my hood drives me insane.
“I’m all yours,” he says, stopping to suck on my clit as he makes his way back up to me.
My mouth finds his in the darkness as his body covers mine, his cock sliding into my opening with ease and our teeth clash against one another’s.
I can taste myself on him, and it’s so damn delicious. A hint of musky mixed with sweetness. The fact that it’s coating his lips makes it taste even better, almost perfect.
As soon as he’s inside of me, I moan in pleasure as his warm breath exhales against my ear, moving my hair.
“Damn, you feel so good,” his deep voice booms in my ear.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him in even deeper.
“Fuck me, Tom,” I say, locking my wrists behind his neck.
“Listen to that filthy mouth you have, Mrs. Crescent,” he teases. “If my dick weren't already occupying your pussy, I’d stuff it right in your mouth to stop you from talking like that.”
I love my husband’s playful banter. He can be so naughty and funny at the same time.
“Well you can’t, Mr. Crescent, so you’ll just have to fuck me senseless,” I hiss, biting his earlobe.
Pistoning in and out of me, I can’t help but moan and call out his name. The louder I get, the faster he goes, and I can’t help but increase the volume of my voice so that he’ll go even faster.
Skin slapping against skin, whimpers and cries of me begging for more and the scent of sex filling the tent under the light of the moon bring out the animalistic side of Tom, causing him to not only fuck me fast but to go as deep as he can.
The men next to our campsite have been listening to us for quite a while based on the obscene phrases that they’ve been shouting and their cheers of encouragement.
I know my husband has held back for as long as possible, and I’m amazed by how long he’s lasting because any other time, he would’ve finished a long while ago but not tonight.
Tonight, he’s taking his time. He’s enjoying what is his and letting the whole world hear how much pleasure he gets from my body, and I’m glad to give it to him. In fact, I want to bring this man as much pleasure as humanly possible.
Clenching the muscles of my pelvic floor, I can feel myself tightening around his thickness that fills me as he fucks me with wreckless abandon; and I know he can feel it, too.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts through his teeth as he tries to keep his composure.
Sweat beading on his brow threatens to drip on me as I raise my hips to meet each of his thrusts and it feels so damn good.
“That’s it, baby,” I coo, stroking his sweaty hair as I watch my tits bounce. “Come in me. Let me have all of it.”
“Ohhhh,” he says, unable to stop.
Gently rocking my hips back and forth, I let him explode inside of me and can feel a warm rush of his seed spilling inside of me.
Keeping the same steady pace and rhythm, I continue to encourage him to keep going because I’m not done yet. I’m always good for one more orgasm after his cum fills me.
I don’t know what it is or why it happens, but I like him to fuck me just a little after he’s come, pushing it deeper inside me. Sometimes, it’s the only way I can get off.
“Yes,” I hiss in his ear. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop until I come.”
Each time he drives himself inside of me, I can feel the warmth of his semen spreading and leaking out of me. Knowing how close it is to my cervix gets me closer to climaxing until there’s so much of it that I get lost in that sweet oblivion.
“Oh, oh, oh,” my eyes roll in my head as I drown in a sea of waves that never stop rolling.
My orgasm is so intense that I don’t even realize I’m screaming until I finally come down from my high and Tom’s donning the biggest grin I’ve seen on his face in a long time.
Around this same time is when I hear a round of applause coming from outside of our tent.
I could die a thousand deaths of embarrassment and shame, and I know if I did, I’d die the happiest woman on earth.
“Should we go have a smoke, Mrs. Crescent?” Tom beams at me.
“Ugh,” I sigh and lower my voice to a whisper. “I don’t know. What if they’re right outside of the tent? They sounded like they were awfully close.”
“Eh, fuck ‘em,” he slips his pants on. “Then they got to listen to a performance of a lifetime.”
Shocked by his words, I pull my shirt on over my head and start getting dressed with him.
“I wasn’t ‘performing’,” I say with finger quotes. “You, Mr. Crescent, know how to fuck like no other.”
A throaty laughter that escapes his chest puts a smile on my face.
“I didn’t say that you were performing,” he begins unzipping the tent. “I was on top and did all of the work, so I believe I was performing.”
And with that, he climbs out of the tent and I hear him say, “Oh, hello.”
I was right, they are literally right outside of our tent, and I can see their legs in the dim moonlight once Tom has made his way completely out of the tent.
“Nice going!” I hear one of them say as they high-five each other.
“Man, you guys are fucking animals,” the other one says.
Chapter 4
Beth
Shaking my head, I can’t believe that I have to go face them, but I really need a cigarette. That fuck was too good not to enjoy one right now.
Climbing out of the tent, I look around to see who might be there. I don’t know why I’m suddenly shy, but if I’m being completely honest with myself, the guys next to our campsite are pretty fucking hot.
I tried not to pay much attention to them while Tom and I were setting up our campsite, but they both look like bronzed gods. They might be brothers, but I doubt it because of how well the two of them seem to get along, but they appear to be pretty close. Maybe they’re just best friends or something like that.
“Beth,” Tom says, grabbing my hand to help me out of our tent. “This is Hunte
r,” he nods toward the man who is the leanest of the two friends.
“Hi, Hunter. Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand.
“I’m Shawn,” the stockier guy steps forward, taking my hand into his without giving his friend a chance to respond.
“Shawn? Nice to meet you, too,” I smile.
Something about the way his hand feels in mine makes me tingle inside, and I know it shouldn’t. I quickly withdraw my hand from his grip and put my arm around my husband.
“Here you go,” Tom removes a cigarette from his pack and hands it to me.
“Thanks,” I put it between my parted lips and wait for him to light it.
Before my husband can do the honors, Shawn flicks his lighter in front of my cigarette.
“Allow me,” he grins at me.
Lighting my cigarette, I thank him and tuck myself in closer to my husband. I don’t know why but I feel vulnerable to this man and the effect that he has on me.
His eyes are a dangerous caramel color, the kind that you see in those candy commercials when they show their rich, creamy batter being stirred in a large pot, teasing your senses.
Tom takes a drag off his cigarette as he pulls me close to him and squeezes me while planting a kiss in my hair.
“You two are pretty entertaining,” Hunter says.
I’ve never seen eyes quite as blue as his. They’re as bright as the ocean yet a darker hue, a deep cyan, surrounds his pupils. The contrast between the two colors is stunning and I wish my eyes were as beautiful as his.
My husband laughs at his statement.
“Yeah, she can get pretty wild. Can’t you, babe?”
Sometimes I hate it when my husband puts me on the spot, but he means no harm by it. He’s just proud of how great our sex life is and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve been known to brag when given the opportunity.
I can feel myself blushing while the back of my husband’s hand caresses my face. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he could feel the heat flushing from my cheeks with the way he stops and holds his cold hand over it.
