by Vivian Ward
“You’re beautiful, Beth,” he watched me intently. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a coffee shop on a Thursday night all by herself? Don’t suppose you have a big, mean boyfriend or husband, do you?” he looked around.
There was nobody in the coffee shop besides us, an elderly couple and a homeless man. Obviously, I was there alone.
“If I did, that wouldn’t be any of your business.”
He frowned at my sarcasm.
“But, since you seem like a nice guy, I’ll answer your question.” His steely eyes perked up as he closed his book, holding onto my every word. “I’m here alone. I just got off work, and I’m waiting for the bus to go home.”
He seemed surprised as his mouth opened to speak but then closed it before opening it once again.
“Beth,” he looked around outside. “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be taking a bus back and forth. It’s too dangerous in the city. Let me give you a ride home tonight.”
I started to object, but he cut me off.
“And before you say no, let me just remind you that it’s raining and getting dark pretty quickly. It’s the least I can do so I can go home with a clear conscience.”
“A clear conscience of what?” I asked him.
“That you got home okay. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he grinned at me.
“You don’t even know me,” I protested. “Besides, I’ve already bought my bus pass, so it’s paid for. Might as well use it.”
“I insist.”
I’m not sure why but I couldn’t say no to him. Maybe it was his charm, perhaps it was the pouring rain, or like I said, maybe it was fate.
For the next hour, the two of us sat and talked. I explained to him the situation with my car and the need for the bus pass. We made plenty of other small talk about everything, yet nothing in particular.
During the ride home, I became very grateful as we approached my apartment. The rain started picking up, and light hail fell from the sky. There was no way I wanted to get caught in that.
“Thanks for the ride,” I reached for the door handle. “It was really nice of you, and now you can go home and sleep well tonight.”
“Beth?” he grabbed my arm, stopping me from leaving the car. “I don’t want you riding the bus. There’s too many weirdos and smelly people on there. How about a ride tomorrow, too?”
I smiled at his thoughtfulness. His concern for me as a complete stranger was admirable.
“Are you going to offer to drive me to and from work every day?” I asked.
“If that’s what it takes,” he replied.
“If that’s what what takes?” I asked.
“To get your number.”
It was the sweetest thing a guy had said to me in a long time. I couldn’t turn him down, and now that I have him, I’m glad that I didn’t.
“I’ll talk to the guys and see what they say,” Tom finally says as we’re climbing into bed.
“About what?” I ask.
“You tagging along with us. I’m telling you right now, they’re not going to like it, and there won’t be anything for you to do.”
I climb into bed and snuggle against him. The scent of his body wash fills my senses, and I get drunk on the smell as I deeply inhale.
“You’re the best. I just don’t want to be left home alone all weekend,” I make a pouty face and give him puppy dog eyes.
He hates when I do that because I look so pathetic and he can never tell me no.
“What are you going to do while we fish and hang out?” he frowns.
“I don’t know,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders. “Read? Do crossword puzzles? Enjoy the sun? I’m not picky.”
“Okay,” he sighs. “The thought of leaving you alone all weekend does make me a bit sad for you, especially since you gave me those puppy dog eyes of yours. I’ll see what I can do,” he reaches up and uses his finger to tap the tip of my nose. “Night, babe. I love you.”
“Night,” I reply, snuggling up to him as I wrap the blanket around me.
I really do have the best husband. He loves me, he cares about me, and he makes sure I’m taken care of—even when it comes to my plans, so I’m not bored or lonely.
I don’t know what I did to get so lucky, but I’m glad he’s mine.
Chapter Two
Beth
“Damn it!” Tom says as he slams his lunch box on the counter.
Normally, when he comes home from work he’s in a pretty good mood, but he’s mad about something. Whatever it is, it mustn’t be good news because it takes a lot to ruffle his feathers.
“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask.
“Nick can’t go because he has to watch his girlfriend’s kids this weekend since her mom’s in the hospital again. And Dave backed out on me because he said it wouldn’t be any fun.”
“What the hell? That doesn’t make any sense,” I shake my head.
They always go camping together, so it doesn’t jive why he wouldn’t go.
“I think he’s seeing someone new but doesn’t want to say,” he empties his dirty lunch containers in the sink.
“Why? He’s never cared before.”
“Yeah?” he cranes his neck to give me some side eye. “This chic is pregnant.”
“What?” my mouth flies open. This is the first I’m hearing about this.
“Yeah, she’s pregnant. I think he said she’s almost seven months?”
“Is it his?”
“No,” Tom take a glass from the counter and turns the faucet on and laughs. “He met her about three months ago, and he thought she was cute so he started talking to her.”
I watch Tom grab a few ice cubes and toss them into the glass as before he fills it with water. After he gulps down two full glasses, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
This is his nightly ritual because he’s so thirsty every time he comes home from work.
“Hunh,” I saw, shrugging my shoulders. “I guess it’s not much different from the time he dated that woman who had all those health issues. He always has to ‘save’ somebody. Doesn’t he?”
Tom nods in agreement, filling his glass a third time with water while I get dinner started.
“The problem is this ‘rescue’ will cost him a fortune if he’s not careful. I don’t think this lady works.”
This sounds just like Dave. He’s a sucker for women, and they always take advantage of him. It pisses me off because he’s such a sweet guy.
Before the night is over, Tom and I decide that we’ll still go camping together. Just the two of us, and we’ll have a great time all alone. We’ve gone on quite a few camping trips together and always enjoy each other’s company so we’re looking forward to having a relaxing weekend on the water.
The problem with being a curvy woman is that nothing ever fits right. At least not how designers make things.
Packing our bags, I have trouble deciding which bikini I should take with me. I like my red one but the bottoms are very skimpy, and my purple bikini covers more of my big ass, but the top pushes my boobs up to my neck.
I hate that the tops either cover my large breasts or have them spilling out and that the bottoms fit perfectly around my curvy hips or they ride straight up the crack of my ass. There is no in between.
“Come on, Beth,” Tom says, grabbing his duffel bag off the bed. He’s been loading up the car for the last 20 minutes. “We’ve got to get on the road, or we’ll never get there before dark, and you know how bad the deer are around that place.”
Indian Creek.
My family has been camping there since I was a little girl. It amazed me how Tom and I didn’t meet until our mid-20’s when I learned that his family often vacationed there while he was growing up, too.
Actually, there are a dozen different ways that I could have met Tom before I did but for some strange reason, we never crossed paths.
Before we met each other, we’d both been in some pretty crappy relati
onships. I think we both had to kiss a lot of ugly frogs and experience all the things that we did to truly appreciate each other.
“I can’t figure out which bikini I want to take,” I bite my lip as I try to make a decision.
With a huff, Tom grabs my swimsuits off the bed and stuffs both of them into my bag, zipping it shut.
I watch in surprise because he’s usually so patient with me but he’s really in a hurry so we don’t hit any deer and to make sure nobody takes our spot, which is pretty unlikely but I guess anything is possible.
“You’ll take both of them,” he nods in satisfaction. “Yep, there you go. Now, it’s all settled because we know that your butt and boobs are going to look great in anything you put on.”
Hoisting the bags over his shoulders, he marches out of the room, and I burst into laughter. He tries to be a hard ass when it comes to me, but he just can’t do it. Don’t get me wrong, Tom is all man, but there’s no denying the soft spot in his heart when it comes to me.
He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and could never tell me what to do so when he tries to assert himself like that, it’s hilarious.
“Laugh later,” he calls from down the hall as he makes his way through the house. “Because we’ve got to get going! Come on! Chop, chop!”
Leaning against the rear of our SUV, I watch him continue to pack everything up. I love looking at him and seeing the way his muscles flex when he does things.
Tom went into roofing not long after we got married and his muscles are the fruit of his hard labor. He has always been fit, but once he became a roofer, he bulked up.
A lot.
The way his strong muscles contract beneath his rugged, tanned skin is never lost on me, not for a minute. Like a train wreck, I often find myself staring at him, wondering how I ever snagged a guy like him.
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me get everything in?” he says, catching me staring at him. Again.
“Sorry, just admiring the view,” a lazy smile plays on my lips. “What do you need help with?”
“Grab the fishing poles and lay them across the backseat. I don’t want them getting broken, and I’ll take care of the rest of everything back here.”
Ah yes, the fragile fishing poles.
Tom doesn’t splurge on much, but if there’s one thing he’ll drop some serious cash on, it’s his fishing equipment. It’s a good thing that we don’t have any kids because there would be some serious competition amongst the kids and fishing gear.
Once we get on the highway, Tom plugs in his iPod and cranks the stereo up before taking my hand in his, kissing the back of it.
There’s seriously nothing better than the smell of summer, the warm wind whipping my face and loud music while I’m passenger to the most handsome man on earth.
It only takes us two hours to get there, and once we arrive, I see why he wanted to get here earlier than we did. Some guys are camping in our usual spot!
“What are we going to do?” I ask Tom.
“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 Three
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.
