Dreamliner
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Milkfountain, I am so looking forward to visitng you and your lovel wife in South America one day!
wife with other men
- Thread starter conquen
- Start date
MilkFountain
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Wonderful . . . . Please PM me to tell me why. (Incidentally, if you like, check out the final five paragraphs of my previous contribution, which I've just clarified as much as possible, adding details.)Dreamliner said:
(By the way, the attached photo I took when Antonio was with Dina and me was taken just before I lay down next to them on their far side from the camera--as written about at the end of the account at the bottom of the previous page. It's a big bed. To kiss me while he was pumping away up into her, she just leaned out to her right, her breasts (fuller than they appear in the photo) swinging above and grazing my shoulder each time he landed home and her bottom shook. One of the remarkable things about Dina is that she loves reaching back to hold her man's balls in her hand and press them against her asshole each time he plunges up into her. (Sorry about the quality. I had to compress the photo.)
Last edited:
jackson44
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stonedme2mysole said:Which is why they call it Fantasy right ?
The problem is my wife KNOWS its what turns me on and eggs me on at times, but I can't see her going through with it unless the situation presented itself in 'just the right way'
Until then, Im a WannaBee
I am just interested how she eggs you on at times. My wife knows it turns me on but doesn't really bring it up outside the bedroom. In my opinion though, it is a good sign she is comfortable enough to joke with you about it. We just have to wait till the right guy and situation cum along
olivefun
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MilkFountain said:
I love the photo.
Being on top is the best too.
I love this feeling so much.
Thank you.
http://img18.imagevenue.com/loc957/th_50865_blueberry_123_957lo.jpg
ruggerohio
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my wife played and got burned, got caught (with another woman), but now our relationship is opening up. I guess things are looking up.
waynerobertson
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Very hot threads!
The insight and detail that Milkfountain has given us is incredible. Thank you for sharing your adventures and thoughts with us!
The insight and detail that Milkfountain has given us is incredible. Thank you for sharing your adventures and thoughts with us!
SexyAxeSlinger
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I'm not a married guy and I'm still single, so I don't have a girlfriend either. But I always found it amusing and interesting that married men are willing to share their wife with other men. Maybe that's a thing to think about for myself whenever I get married is allow her to fuck other men as long as I'm watching. 
Great thread!
Great thread! MilkFountain
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A key point--not always easy to ensure.
The difficult part sometimes to guarantee is your statement: ". . . allow her to fuck other men as long as I'm watching." You have to be pretty sure of your relationship to be secure that it's going to be that way. --MilkFountainSexyAxeSlinger said:I'm not a married guy and I'm still single, so I don't have a girlfriend either. But I always found it amusing and interesting that married men are willing to share their wife with other men. Maybe that's a thing to think about for myself whenever I get married is allow her to fuck other men as long as I'm watching.
MilkFountain
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Thanks! (And, you're welcome.)
Your appreciation is so important (I wonder what your wife would say upon reading what I've written on this thread?) --MFwaynerobertson said:
VaGentleOne
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What an arousing and wonderful story MilkFountain! I only read the one about smoothies, but I will be sure to read the many others you have left us to read.
If and when I ever have my own story, then I will be sure to share!
If and when I ever have my own story, then I will be sure to share!
toledoblues
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Wow! Very hot anecdotes, thanks everyone!!!
This has been a fantasy of mine for years and until recently I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to experience it. My wife Lisa was always very reluctant whenever I brought it up. Which, and lets face it, is probably beter than her being over eager first up!
Anyway, recently she changed jobs and started working with some younger ladies (she's 24, they're 21) and also going out with them socially. She would always come back after her girls nights with them and tell me all the things these young single girls did - picking up a different guy each night, sometimes more than one in a night.
At first she was a bit disgusted by it all, then slowly she seemed to change her opinion and see it as fun, see the freedom they had. I would carefully tell her that if she ever wanted to experience that then I would be ok with it. (We had been together since she was 19, so she had missed the single phase of her life to a great extent.)
Of course she laughed and said she didn't want to try it, but i could tell that slowly she could be weakening.
Then a particular guy from her gym started taking a real interest in her, flirting with her furiously and constantly asking her out on dates. One night we were having a drink at our local bar and he came up and introduced himself to me and started chatting to Lisa. His name is Rob and I must admit that I was a bit taken aback by how good looking he was. That was when my evil fantasy mind kicked into gear and started creating all the possible scenarios.
I think he asked her to dance, then she asked me and I must have said yes because they headed for the floor. My mind was too preoccupied with the various dirty thoughts that were swimming round in my head to really take much notice. I do remember that my cock was straining and ready to explode by the time I looked up and saw them dancing.
Rob's hand was quite obviously feeling Lisa's ass, then she's brush it away ad he'd lift it up her side to about breast height. I can only assume he was brushing the side of her tits as her nipples started to poke through the material of her top.
The song ended (or was it two?) and Rob said his goodbyes and left.
When we go home I barely got inside before Lisa was all over me. We made love 3 times that night and Lisa even sucked me after I was inside her, which is something she usually refuses to do. I knew that dancing with Rob had got her worked up and so I decided to suggest that if she wanted to sleep with Rob and experience someone new then I'd be fine with it.
We discussed it, and eventually she decided to try it once, just so she could find out what it was like.
About a week later she accepted Rob's offer of a lift to the gym and told me that she was going to "give in finally" to Robs attention so if I wanted to stop it I'd better say so now.
Naturally I said it was fine and I was looking forward to hearing all about it.
Rob came and picked her up and gave me a look that said Lisa had probably told him he was getting lucky tonight. That look made me hard as hell, I could see that another man was going to sleep with my wife, to see her naked and do god knows what to her body.
Eventually his car rolled back into the driveway and stopped. I watched from my office window and saw my wife and Rob embracing and kissing in the front seat. The street light gave just enough light to see him remove her singlet top and bra and start caressing and sucking on her tits. I didn't think I could become any harder.
But then I saw my beautiful wife sweep her hair back behind her ears and lower her face below the dashboard. I knew exactly what was happening and I was harder than ever. I had waited so long for this moment! My wife had another mans cock in her mouth not 20 feet from where I was standing.
After a few minutes she sat back up, grabbed her top and sprinted out of the car, up the steps and inside. I met her in the landing and could see the glow in her face and her smile as she dropped her top and bra to show me Robs cum sitting on her breasts and neck. SOme of it was on her face beside her mouth as well.
"That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen" was all I could say.
She dragged me to the bedroom and told me all about it as we fucked.
That was the first time for us. There have been a few more adventures with Rob since, which I'll update soon.
Watching Lisa with another man was the most amazing thing i have ever experienced. It has all only happened recently, so I have no idea of the long term consequences for our marriage, which worries me a bit. The trouble is that it's addictive. The first time was a complete sensory overload, with each subsequent liason it becomes more vivid and real. It as definately improved our sex life in the short term, but long term who knows?
This has been a fantasy of mine for years and until recently I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to experience it. My wife Lisa was always very reluctant whenever I brought it up. Which, and lets face it, is probably beter than her being over eager first up!
Anyway, recently she changed jobs and started working with some younger ladies (she's 24, they're 21) and also going out with them socially. She would always come back after her girls nights with them and tell me all the things these young single girls did - picking up a different guy each night, sometimes more than one in a night.
At first she was a bit disgusted by it all, then slowly she seemed to change her opinion and see it as fun, see the freedom they had. I would carefully tell her that if she ever wanted to experience that then I would be ok with it. (We had been together since she was 19, so she had missed the single phase of her life to a great extent.)
Of course she laughed and said she didn't want to try it, but i could tell that slowly she could be weakening.
Then a particular guy from her gym started taking a real interest in her, flirting with her furiously and constantly asking her out on dates. One night we were having a drink at our local bar and he came up and introduced himself to me and started chatting to Lisa. His name is Rob and I must admit that I was a bit taken aback by how good looking he was. That was when my evil fantasy mind kicked into gear and started creating all the possible scenarios.
I think he asked her to dance, then she asked me and I must have said yes because they headed for the floor. My mind was too preoccupied with the various dirty thoughts that were swimming round in my head to really take much notice. I do remember that my cock was straining and ready to explode by the time I looked up and saw them dancing.
Rob's hand was quite obviously feeling Lisa's ass, then she's brush it away ad he'd lift it up her side to about breast height. I can only assume he was brushing the side of her tits as her nipples started to poke through the material of her top.
The song ended (or was it two?) and Rob said his goodbyes and left.
When we go home I barely got inside before Lisa was all over me. We made love 3 times that night and Lisa even sucked me after I was inside her, which is something she usually refuses to do. I knew that dancing with Rob had got her worked up and so I decided to suggest that if she wanted to sleep with Rob and experience someone new then I'd be fine with it.
We discussed it, and eventually she decided to try it once, just so she could find out what it was like.
About a week later she accepted Rob's offer of a lift to the gym and told me that she was going to "give in finally" to Robs attention so if I wanted to stop it I'd better say so now.
Naturally I said it was fine and I was looking forward to hearing all about it.
Rob came and picked her up and gave me a look that said Lisa had probably told him he was getting lucky tonight. That look made me hard as hell, I could see that another man was going to sleep with my wife, to see her naked and do god knows what to her body.
Eventually his car rolled back into the driveway and stopped. I watched from my office window and saw my wife and Rob embracing and kissing in the front seat. The street light gave just enough light to see him remove her singlet top and bra and start caressing and sucking on her tits. I didn't think I could become any harder.
But then I saw my beautiful wife sweep her hair back behind her ears and lower her face below the dashboard. I knew exactly what was happening and I was harder than ever. I had waited so long for this moment! My wife had another mans cock in her mouth not 20 feet from where I was standing.
After a few minutes she sat back up, grabbed her top and sprinted out of the car, up the steps and inside. I met her in the landing and could see the glow in her face and her smile as she dropped her top and bra to show me Robs cum sitting on her breasts and neck. SOme of it was on her face beside her mouth as well.
"That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen" was all I could say.
She dragged me to the bedroom and told me all about it as we fucked.
That was the first time for us. There have been a few more adventures with Rob since, which I'll update soon.
Watching Lisa with another man was the most amazing thing i have ever experienced. It has all only happened recently, so I have no idea of the long term consequences for our marriage, which worries me a bit. The trouble is that it's addictive. The first time was a complete sensory overload, with each subsequent liason it becomes more vivid and real. It as definately improved our sex life in the short term, but long term who knows?
It is very intense and the arousal that comes with it is overpowering. It still puzzles me why some men find it so intense but, in the end, enjoyable. While for the majority of men it triggers anger and at times violence more than anything else.toledoblues said:
When I was in open relationships that was the most sexually intense and charged moments.
between Milk, Mike, others, and the ladies, this is the hottest fucking thread on this BB. 
great stuff. i came twice in the first 15 pages of this thread, and that was skimming most of the stories. they are all very hot, but i couldn't read fast enough. will have to come back and go thru it at a more leisurely pace.
great stuff. i came twice in the first 15 pages of this thread, and that was skimming most of the stories. they are all very hot, but i couldn't read fast enough. will have to come back and go thru it at a more leisurely pace. Watching my wife with other men is something that turns me on more than anything else. We were initially swingers enjoyed it a lot for the first two or three years, but realised something was missing. One thing was few of the women were as good in bed as my wife, they just seemed to miss the mark. By the number of guys that used to look for my wife at parties they had that thought too.
For her part she enjoyed the attention but commented on numerous occasions that she would prefer guys that were better hung. After one party in particular she decided she wanted to pick the guys she wanted, not just because the were there. We had a casual friend that was a nudist she knew he was well endowed, so we dropped round to his place one night for coffee, she made it obvious that she wanted him to fuck her and that it was fine with me. I had intended to join in for a threesome but he didn't have a double bed, instead I watched. I got so turned on at the sight of this young well hung guy (10yrs her junior) fucking my wife that I forgot the intention was to join in. After that I was hooked as was the wife, from then it was single guys or threesomes only.
For her part she enjoyed the attention but commented on numerous occasions that she would prefer guys that were better hung. After one party in particular she decided she wanted to pick the guys she wanted, not just because the were there. We had a casual friend that was a nudist she knew he was well endowed, so we dropped round to his place one night for coffee, she made it obvious that she wanted him to fuck her and that it was fine with me. I had intended to join in for a threesome but he didn't have a double bed, instead I watched. I got so turned on at the sight of this young well hung guy (10yrs her junior) fucking my wife that I forgot the intention was to join in. After that I was hooked as was the wife, from then it was single guys or threesomes only.
MilkFountain
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Norma, Truckers and the Hot Springs
TOLEDOBLUES, your closing comments a couple of replies above are intelligent, to the point and tell any reader that, whatever happens, you'll get through the experiences of sharing. Between the lines, you reveal personal commitment and what is probably a good marriage.
You reminded me of an experience long ago, after a year of living with Norma, the girl who would become my wife. Returning from a vacation and visits to friends in California to our home in Alberta, Canada, we had crossed the border into British Columbia late in the afternoon of an unusually warm fall weekday.
As dusk gathered around us, far north of the border, we found ourselves floating over roads so smooth and well engineered in the curves that I was kept awake perhaps only by the distraction of Norma, leaning against me. Her thinly-clad, braless breast lay warm on my forearm. The little puffs of her breath were hot against my neck as she laughed, delighted as she recalled how kindly my California friends had treated her. With night closing on us, and with the excuse of not wanting to fall asleep at the wheel, I asked her to flash passing truckers.
Norma was blessed with round hips, a small waist and a slender ribcage that dramatized her high, full breasts. Growing up in the heart of a healthy, large family in Argentina (they laugh a lot), she had overcome her school-years' shyness about her early blooming womanhood. She had told me once that, although only 9 years old—in the 4th grade in elementary school—her breasts had appeared, softening the contours over her boney ribs with a round firmness she had found hard to hide. . . . Within a year they had swelled, so that the boys called her "bumps."
Now, her head tucked under my arm, the vibration of her jaw reached me as she softly hummed “Strawberry Hills Forever.” The heat of her breast against my arm moved like summer lightning through my body, tugging from the night highway doze I’d been falling into. Arousal tentatively lifted my cock.
“Honey?”
“Mmm?”
“I need to stay awake.”
“Yes?”
“Would you do something for me?”
“What? Sure.”
“Keep lying against me, just like this. Don’t move, but take your blouse off.”
For moments she seemed to stop breathing. Then she raised her head a fraction, looking out through the moth-spackled windshield into the white glare of our road lights following the highway as it snaked into the night. Just then a fully loaded logging truck growled toward us on a long upgrade.
She laughed.
“Truckers or a bus-driver might see me.”
“Exactly.”
She looked up at me, he mouth opening.
Before she could speak, I smiled mischievously down and said. . . .
“If I were a truck driver on a long haul through the mountains of British Columbia, I’d thank God for the sight of you jolting me back from a highway death in the arms of sleep.”
She again burrowed her head under my arm and against my chest.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s sweet.”
“If I saw you, it would surely keep me awake a few more miles.”
I hugged her face back against me.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll save the life of somebody’s husband—the father of eight little kids?”
“You really want me to?”
“Honey, I wish, when I drove for the moving companywhen I was still in school, that I could have caught a glimpse of you from high up in my cab on some of those long night hauls back from Chicago to Ann Arbor.” I softly elbowed her in the ribs. "The hardon alone would have kept me awake."
She laughed and snuggled closer.
I lifted my protective arm and gave her an almost imperceptible nudge to sit up. I heard her soft giggle as she said, reluctantly. . . .
“Why not?” (In Spanish it’s not a question.) She sat up, arched her back, shucked the shirt, and quickly folded her blouse. In a moment she was again under my arm.
But now my protecting arm fell on warm, summer-heat dampened flesh. The full swell of her near breast seeming to burn through my shirt.
At first, she half shielded her breasts with an arm as the glare of a truck’s high lights caught her fully in the front seat of our camper van. She laughed when they repeatedly tooted their air horns as they disappeared behind us into the night. After the fourth or fifth truck driver saluted her with a long series of blasts, I gently lifted her arm away from her breasts.
“Sit up, sweetheart. Don’t be shy. It’s only a flash they see.” I laughed, “Anyway, they’re probably not looking at your face. It’s the whole vision of you they see.”
“I suppose,” she said, her eyebrows rising in mock complicity. Happily, I saw that she was now joining my conspiracy, as she almost invariably did when sharing private jokes around strangers.
Rather awkwardly, she sat up, and then settled herself on the seat beside me, drawing her legs up under her on the side toward the door, and again leaned on me, her head now even with mine.
“Here comes another one,” I said. “Why don’t you raise your arms, close your eyes and stretch. I love when you do that, like a cat getting up from a nap.”
She did that, arching her back, her bottom against the seatback, belly forward and breasts thrust up toward the windshield, the sudden flood of light from the oncoming truck bright on her prominent nipples, In the bright light, they were aroused and dark pink.
It was only a moment. As I glanced up, I caught a glimpse of the dash-lit face of the gaping driver at the same time he abruptly leaned far forward over his steering wheel, his face suddenly bright in my headlights. His eyes were wide for that split second on my wife for that split second.
Eventually I talked Norma into turning around, kneeling on the seat, presenting her bottom to our windshield. Knees deep in the seat cushion and one hand on the back of the seat, she turned her face and upper body back to look over her shoulder at the truck now coming toward us. With a hand on the dash, the oncoming driver also saw everything--the fall of black hair across her shoulders and to one side of her body, most of her long back, her bottom (held high and open to them) and her breasts. Once, when I doused our headlights, further dramatizing the her in the van cab's two bright overhead lights, she raised her chin to an oncoming driver, and with her puckered her lips sent him a kiss. That was on a long, hilly curve, the truck grinding slowly uphill. I had backed off the gas, coasting in second gear to give the driver a long look.
Then, I saw a small sign at the mouth of a dirt logging road. It said “Hot Springs, 12 kilometers.”
There was a hand-painted arrow, pointing into the black tunnel that the road became as it disappeared into the forest that climbed the mountain. The forest of towering pines was faintly green in the moonlight, but turned darkened into a black carpet blanketing the mountain a few hundred yards further on. Above that, the peaks gleamed with the deep snow that had survived the summer.
There are dozens of undeveloped, natural hot springs in British Columbia, perhaps hundreds that I don’t know about. I asked Norma if she’d like a dip. She knew how sleepy I had been before our little game with the truck drivers, and happily assented with a nod, looking off in the direction the road might lead us.
I’m posting this, and will now write about the two loggers at the hot springs.
TOLEDOBLUES, your closing comments a couple of replies above are intelligent, to the point and tell any reader that, whatever happens, you'll get through the experiences of sharing. Between the lines, you reveal personal commitment and what is probably a good marriage.
You reminded me of an experience long ago, after a year of living with Norma, the girl who would become my wife. Returning from a vacation and visits to friends in California to our home in Alberta, Canada, we had crossed the border into British Columbia late in the afternoon of an unusually warm fall weekday.
As dusk gathered around us, far north of the border, we found ourselves floating over roads so smooth and well engineered in the curves that I was kept awake perhaps only by the distraction of Norma, leaning against me. Her thinly-clad, braless breast lay warm on my forearm. The little puffs of her breath were hot against my neck as she laughed, delighted as she recalled how kindly my California friends had treated her. With night closing on us, and with the excuse of not wanting to fall asleep at the wheel, I asked her to flash passing truckers.
Norma was blessed with round hips, a small waist and a slender ribcage that dramatized her high, full breasts. Growing up in the heart of a healthy, large family in Argentina (they laugh a lot), she had overcome her school-years' shyness about her early blooming womanhood. She had told me once that, although only 9 years old—in the 4th grade in elementary school—her breasts had appeared, softening the contours over her boney ribs with a round firmness she had found hard to hide. . . . Within a year they had swelled, so that the boys called her "bumps."
Now, her head tucked under my arm, the vibration of her jaw reached me as she softly hummed “Strawberry Hills Forever.” The heat of her breast against my arm moved like summer lightning through my body, tugging from the night highway doze I’d been falling into. Arousal tentatively lifted my cock.
“Honey?”
“Mmm?”
“I need to stay awake.”
“Yes?”
“Would you do something for me?”
“What? Sure.”
“Keep lying against me, just like this. Don’t move, but take your blouse off.”
For moments she seemed to stop breathing. Then she raised her head a fraction, looking out through the moth-spackled windshield into the white glare of our road lights following the highway as it snaked into the night. Just then a fully loaded logging truck growled toward us on a long upgrade.
She laughed.
“Truckers or a bus-driver might see me.”
“Exactly.”
She looked up at me, he mouth opening.
Before she could speak, I smiled mischievously down and said. . . .
“If I were a truck driver on a long haul through the mountains of British Columbia, I’d thank God for the sight of you jolting me back from a highway death in the arms of sleep.”
She again burrowed her head under my arm and against my chest.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s sweet.”
“If I saw you, it would surely keep me awake a few more miles.”
I hugged her face back against me.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll save the life of somebody’s husband—the father of eight little kids?”
“You really want me to?”
“Honey, I wish, when I drove for the moving companywhen I was still in school, that I could have caught a glimpse of you from high up in my cab on some of those long night hauls back from Chicago to Ann Arbor.” I softly elbowed her in the ribs. "The hardon alone would have kept me awake."
She laughed and snuggled closer.
I lifted my protective arm and gave her an almost imperceptible nudge to sit up. I heard her soft giggle as she said, reluctantly. . . .
“Why not?” (In Spanish it’s not a question.) She sat up, arched her back, shucked the shirt, and quickly folded her blouse. In a moment she was again under my arm.
But now my protecting arm fell on warm, summer-heat dampened flesh. The full swell of her near breast seeming to burn through my shirt.
At first, she half shielded her breasts with an arm as the glare of a truck’s high lights caught her fully in the front seat of our camper van. She laughed when they repeatedly tooted their air horns as they disappeared behind us into the night. After the fourth or fifth truck driver saluted her with a long series of blasts, I gently lifted her arm away from her breasts.
“Sit up, sweetheart. Don’t be shy. It’s only a flash they see.” I laughed, “Anyway, they’re probably not looking at your face. It’s the whole vision of you they see.”
“I suppose,” she said, her eyebrows rising in mock complicity. Happily, I saw that she was now joining my conspiracy, as she almost invariably did when sharing private jokes around strangers.
Rather awkwardly, she sat up, and then settled herself on the seat beside me, drawing her legs up under her on the side toward the door, and again leaned on me, her head now even with mine.
“Here comes another one,” I said. “Why don’t you raise your arms, close your eyes and stretch. I love when you do that, like a cat getting up from a nap.”
She did that, arching her back, her bottom against the seatback, belly forward and breasts thrust up toward the windshield, the sudden flood of light from the oncoming truck bright on her prominent nipples, In the bright light, they were aroused and dark pink.
It was only a moment. As I glanced up, I caught a glimpse of the dash-lit face of the gaping driver at the same time he abruptly leaned far forward over his steering wheel, his face suddenly bright in my headlights. His eyes were wide for that split second on my wife for that split second.
Eventually I talked Norma into turning around, kneeling on the seat, presenting her bottom to our windshield. Knees deep in the seat cushion and one hand on the back of the seat, she turned her face and upper body back to look over her shoulder at the truck now coming toward us. With a hand on the dash, the oncoming driver also saw everything--the fall of black hair across her shoulders and to one side of her body, most of her long back, her bottom (held high and open to them) and her breasts. Once, when I doused our headlights, further dramatizing the her in the van cab's two bright overhead lights, she raised her chin to an oncoming driver, and with her puckered her lips sent him a kiss. That was on a long, hilly curve, the truck grinding slowly uphill. I had backed off the gas, coasting in second gear to give the driver a long look.
Then, I saw a small sign at the mouth of a dirt logging road. It said “Hot Springs, 12 kilometers.”
There was a hand-painted arrow, pointing into the black tunnel that the road became as it disappeared into the forest that climbed the mountain. The forest of towering pines was faintly green in the moonlight, but turned darkened into a black carpet blanketing the mountain a few hundred yards further on. Above that, the peaks gleamed with the deep snow that had survived the summer.
There are dozens of undeveloped, natural hot springs in British Columbia, perhaps hundreds that I don’t know about. I asked Norma if she’d like a dip. She knew how sleepy I had been before our little game with the truck drivers, and happily assented with a nod, looking off in the direction the road might lead us.
I’m posting this, and will now write about the two loggers at the hot springs.
Last edited:
olivefun
Literotica Guru
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- Sep 17, 2006
- Posts
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Milky, I forgot how much I enjoy the way you weave these stories.
The love you and Norma shared and the riches you gracefully bestowed on those that you came in contact with is a beautiful thing.
Thank you for this.
Delicous!
Olive
The love you and Norma shared and the riches you gracefully bestowed on those that you came in contact with is a beautiful thing.
Thank you for this.
Delicous!
Olive
Last edited:
bimale4cplsintn
Virgin
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If only it were true!
I would love nothing more than to see my wife fuck other guys.
I love hearing her stories regarding her past sexual experiences - fucking her gym instructor at the gym, having her pussy fingered by a guy (who we both know) while standing at the bar of a local nightspot. getting fucked in her office by her co workers. My wife is a georgeous MILF with very large breasts & very well known here in town which makes things even hotter!
She loves seeing guys jerk themselves off, so one of my fantasies is that we arrange to meet a guy from the net (This is a fantasy so there is no chance of STDs) at a fairly busy parking lot. When we arrive, my wife gets inside the car on the passenger side & I stand by the drivers window. The guy takes his cock out & starts jacking himself of while my wife talks dirty to him.
After a while she replaces his hand with hers & starts stroking his shaft saying, "Cum for me, I want to see you cum"! This continues for a few minutes & my wife becoming impatient with the guys inability to shoot the hot jizzm she wants to see erupt all over his lap decides to work his cock with her mouth, her head goes down & she engulfs his swollen cock head with her hot moist lips, I can hear the slurping sounds & her gasps as she attempts to catch her breath. Once she realizes that she has another man's schlong in her mouth she goes wild, feverishly gulping every ounce of his meat. The strangers back arches & he lets out a strained grunt. My wife pulls her head back just as he explodes, the 1st stream hitting the back of her throat, the 2nd & 3rd spraying all over her lips, cheek & in her hair. My wife sits up, unconceously she has the rapidly softening penis back in her hand again, moving the skin back & forward over the head.
She looks up at me & the goo on her face glistens in the neon of the parking lot.
My biggest fantasy is this....
My wife & I are on vacation at the beach. Nightime we go to a cool oyster bar right on the beach, as we sit at the bar drinking we strike up a conversation with the 2 guys sitting next to us, Chuck & Larry. I judge both to be late 40s to mid 50s, both have athletic bodies, are casually dressed & friendly. My wife is wearing a thin cotton, peach colored dress & sandals. Her lipstick & dark brown hair highlight her tan. little freckles crown the cleavage of her huge boobs. After an hour or so of jokes & conversation one of the guys orders a round of shooters, his buddy matches him with another, followes by another & another...
Pretty soon I can tell that my wife has a good buzz going & decides that she now wants Margaritas. One of the guys says, "Hell, we've got Tequila & Margarita mix up in the room, why don't we go back there & I'll make some for us"?
To my surprise, my wife agrees without hesitation.
After a short walk we arrive at the motel room. We move inside inside & the blender is soon humming away, the ice chattering against the glass. Our drinks are poured & the four of us stand in a close circle, clinking our glasse in a toast to our vacation. we chat & sip on our drinks when the second glass is empty & it is time to concoct a new batch it is announced that we are out of ice. I volunteer to fetch more from the ice machine & leave.
As I open the door when I return to the room I notice there is no chattering going on & as I step inside I see the reason.
Standing behind my wife is Larry one hand is kneading my wife's exposed breast, the other buried in her tangle of dark cunt hair. her dress is pulled up over her waist, her white cotton panties laing on the floor next to her sandals. Larrys index finger is working in & out of my wife's pussy & her hips are gyrating to match his actions, her head turned back her mouth locked against Larry's in a hot, passionate kiss. I see Chuck naked on his knees but to my surprise his head is behind my wife's ass & I realize that Larry's cock is in his mouth. My wife pulls away from her kiss, "Honey, after you left the guys told me that they were both bi & were down here on a sex vacation together. I told them that I've allways had a secret fantasy about watching 2 guys together & one thing lead to another".
The look on her face was more of a query as to my reaction.
My answer was to pull off my shirt & walk toward the 3 of them unbuckling my belt, by the time I had reached them I had the top button of my jeans undone & my zipper down. I lowered my hand to her crotch, my fingers joining Larry's. I kissed her hard, my tongue dominating her. I released from the kiss & put my mouth to her ear. "So, seeing guys suck cock gets you hot"? "Fuck, yes"! she moaned her crotch melting against my my hand.
I stood back & looked at the 2 men about to fuck my wife like a slut.
"Let's give her what she wants" I told them.
The 3 of us were rapidly on the bed. We were all undressing each other as soon as we reached it & our remaining clothes now lay in a mixed pile on the carpet.
I lowered my wife onto her back & pushed her thighs apart. Chuck stepped behind grabbing her ankles & pulling them back, spread wide over her head.
I lowered my face to her hot cunt, I could feel the heat, steaming as I neared her mound. I was engulfed in the aroma of her arousal & the heady musk of the evenings summer sweat. I buried my tongue in her tasting her wantoness, working her swollen clit nestled in it's hood. I raised my eyes as I tongue fuked her & I could see her head tilted to the side as she sucked greedily on Chuck's rock hard cock. Larry was standing by Chuck's side, his legs parted slightly allowing chuck access to Larry's large balls.
I raise my self up from between my crotch & scooted over to where Larry stood, I put my head down next to Chuck's feeling the stubble of our 5 o clock shadows scrape together. I took the head of Larry's cock into my mouth & slid it all the way in to the back of my throat until my nose was buried in the damp curl of his crotch hairs. I backed out moving my head from side to side as I did so like so many women had done to me over the years. I went all the way back until only the head was between my lips Then worked the head with a combination of my tongue & lips. I felt Chuck back away and move between my wife's thighs. seconds later I felt her body shudder as she took the first thrust of his cock plunging into her then the cadenced recoil of her cunt being pounded by the cock of a guy she had only known for a couple of hours. I removed my mouth from the hot shaft I had been enjoying & guided it toward my wife's panting lips, she accepted it greedily, mewing & moaning. I stood back to enjoy the sight of my wife tits bouncing wildly, her skin glimmering with the sweat of her exertion, her hair plastered against her face.
"Get on your knees", I barked at her as an order. Larry & Chuck gave her room as she flipped herself over onto her hands & knees, thrusting her ass into the air.
Chuck slid back inside, slamming her now, his hands holding her hips as he pummelled her insides with his thick veined schlong. "Fuck me, fuck", me she blurted, her voice trembling until her mouth was full of Larry's dick. I lowered myself & squeezed under her until my face was level with her cunt, the pussy lips expanding & contracting with each stroke Chuck pleasured her with. I raised my mouth to her snatch, my nostrils filled with the heavy release of her fuck juices which by now had left her inner thighs slick & shining. I licked hard swallowing all her juices. chuck moaned as his cock stiffend spurting his thick, hot cum deep ito my wife's fuck hole. he buried himself to the hilt then withdrew allowing a flood of bittersweet ball cream to gush from her open mound straight into my waiting mouth. I rolled out from under her & replaced Chuck's cock wiyh my own. my cockhead sliding easily into the viscous morass of sex.
I fucked my slut wife with long, puposeful strokes allowing the head to exit her now puffy lips each time prior to being driven back in. I heard Larry cumming & looked in time to see long spurts of pearl colored semen spray her face & lips. the sight was too much for me & I pulled out in time to blow my own heavy load all over her back & ass cheeks. as the guys stepped away I rolled her onto her back & pressed my mouth against her cunt, slurping up the coctail of female fuck cream & Chuck's thick man goo. I felt Larrys mouth take in my soft cock & I rolled into a 69 position so that we could orally stimulate each other back to the harness required for the long, hard fuck session of round 2. On the other side of the bed Larry & my wife were doing the same.....
If only it were true!
I would love nothing more than to see my wife fuck other guys.
I love hearing her stories regarding her past sexual experiences - fucking her gym instructor at the gym, having her pussy fingered by a guy (who we both know) while standing at the bar of a local nightspot. getting fucked in her office by her co workers. My wife is a georgeous MILF with very large breasts & very well known here in town which makes things even hotter!
She loves seeing guys jerk themselves off, so one of my fantasies is that we arrange to meet a guy from the net (This is a fantasy so there is no chance of STDs) at a fairly busy parking lot. When we arrive, my wife gets inside the car on the passenger side & I stand by the drivers window. The guy takes his cock out & starts jacking himself of while my wife talks dirty to him.
After a while she replaces his hand with hers & starts stroking his shaft saying, "Cum for me, I want to see you cum"! This continues for a few minutes & my wife becoming impatient with the guys inability to shoot the hot jizzm she wants to see erupt all over his lap decides to work his cock with her mouth, her head goes down & she engulfs his swollen cock head with her hot moist lips, I can hear the slurping sounds & her gasps as she attempts to catch her breath. Once she realizes that she has another man's schlong in her mouth she goes wild, feverishly gulping every ounce of his meat. The strangers back arches & he lets out a strained grunt. My wife pulls her head back just as he explodes, the 1st stream hitting the back of her throat, the 2nd & 3rd spraying all over her lips, cheek & in her hair. My wife sits up, unconceously she has the rapidly softening penis back in her hand again, moving the skin back & forward over the head.
She looks up at me & the goo on her face glistens in the neon of the parking lot.
My biggest fantasy is this....
My wife & I are on vacation at the beach. Nightime we go to a cool oyster bar right on the beach, as we sit at the bar drinking we strike up a conversation with the 2 guys sitting next to us, Chuck & Larry. I judge both to be late 40s to mid 50s, both have athletic bodies, are casually dressed & friendly. My wife is wearing a thin cotton, peach colored dress & sandals. Her lipstick & dark brown hair highlight her tan. little freckles crown the cleavage of her huge boobs. After an hour or so of jokes & conversation one of the guys orders a round of shooters, his buddy matches him with another, followes by another & another...
Pretty soon I can tell that my wife has a good buzz going & decides that she now wants Margaritas. One of the guys says, "Hell, we've got Tequila & Margarita mix up in the room, why don't we go back there & I'll make some for us"?
To my surprise, my wife agrees without hesitation.
After a short walk we arrive at the motel room. We move inside inside & the blender is soon humming away, the ice chattering against the glass. Our drinks are poured & the four of us stand in a close circle, clinking our glasse in a toast to our vacation. we chat & sip on our drinks when the second glass is empty & it is time to concoct a new batch it is announced that we are out of ice. I volunteer to fetch more from the ice machine & leave.
As I open the door when I return to the room I notice there is no chattering going on & as I step inside I see the reason.
Standing behind my wife is Larry one hand is kneading my wife's exposed breast, the other buried in her tangle of dark cunt hair. her dress is pulled up over her waist, her white cotton panties laing on the floor next to her sandals. Larrys index finger is working in & out of my wife's pussy & her hips are gyrating to match his actions, her head turned back her mouth locked against Larry's in a hot, passionate kiss. I see Chuck naked on his knees but to my surprise his head is behind my wife's ass & I realize that Larry's cock is in his mouth. My wife pulls away from her kiss, "Honey, after you left the guys told me that they were both bi & were down here on a sex vacation together. I told them that I've allways had a secret fantasy about watching 2 guys together & one thing lead to another".
The look on her face was more of a query as to my reaction.
My answer was to pull off my shirt & walk toward the 3 of them unbuckling my belt, by the time I had reached them I had the top button of my jeans undone & my zipper down. I lowered my hand to her crotch, my fingers joining Larry's. I kissed her hard, my tongue dominating her. I released from the kiss & put my mouth to her ear. "So, seeing guys suck cock gets you hot"? "Fuck, yes"! she moaned her crotch melting against my my hand.
I stood back & looked at the 2 men about to fuck my wife like a slut.
"Let's give her what she wants" I told them.
The 3 of us were rapidly on the bed. We were all undressing each other as soon as we reached it & our remaining clothes now lay in a mixed pile on the carpet.
I lowered my wife onto her back & pushed her thighs apart. Chuck stepped behind grabbing her ankles & pulling them back, spread wide over her head.
I lowered my face to her hot cunt, I could feel the heat, steaming as I neared her mound. I was engulfed in the aroma of her arousal & the heady musk of the evenings summer sweat. I buried my tongue in her tasting her wantoness, working her swollen clit nestled in it's hood. I raised my eyes as I tongue fuked her & I could see her head tilted to the side as she sucked greedily on Chuck's rock hard cock. Larry was standing by Chuck's side, his legs parted slightly allowing chuck access to Larry's large balls.
I raise my self up from between my crotch & scooted over to where Larry stood, I put my head down next to Chuck's feeling the stubble of our 5 o clock shadows scrape together. I took the head of Larry's cock into my mouth & slid it all the way in to the back of my throat until my nose was buried in the damp curl of his crotch hairs. I backed out moving my head from side to side as I did so like so many women had done to me over the years. I went all the way back until only the head was between my lips Then worked the head with a combination of my tongue & lips. I felt Chuck back away and move between my wife's thighs. seconds later I felt her body shudder as she took the first thrust of his cock plunging into her then the cadenced recoil of her cunt being pounded by the cock of a guy she had only known for a couple of hours. I removed my mouth from the hot shaft I had been enjoying & guided it toward my wife's panting lips, she accepted it greedily, mewing & moaning. I stood back to enjoy the sight of my wife tits bouncing wildly, her skin glimmering with the sweat of her exertion, her hair plastered against her face.
"Get on your knees", I barked at her as an order. Larry & Chuck gave her room as she flipped herself over onto her hands & knees, thrusting her ass into the air.
Chuck slid back inside, slamming her now, his hands holding her hips as he pummelled her insides with his thick veined schlong. "Fuck me, fuck", me she blurted, her voice trembling until her mouth was full of Larry's dick. I lowered myself & squeezed under her until my face was level with her cunt, the pussy lips expanding & contracting with each stroke Chuck pleasured her with. I raised my mouth to her snatch, my nostrils filled with the heavy release of her fuck juices which by now had left her inner thighs slick & shining. I licked hard swallowing all her juices. chuck moaned as his cock stiffend spurting his thick, hot cum deep ito my wife's fuck hole. he buried himself to the hilt then withdrew allowing a flood of bittersweet ball cream to gush from her open mound straight into my waiting mouth. I rolled out from under her & replaced Chuck's cock wiyh my own. my cockhead sliding easily into the viscous morass of sex.
I fucked my slut wife with long, puposeful strokes allowing the head to exit her now puffy lips each time prior to being driven back in. I heard Larry cumming & looked in time to see long spurts of pearl colored semen spray her face & lips. the sight was too much for me & I pulled out in time to blow my own heavy load all over her back & ass cheeks. as the guys stepped away I rolled her onto her back & pressed my mouth against her cunt, slurping up the coctail of female fuck cream & Chuck's thick man goo. I felt Larrys mouth take in my soft cock & I rolled into a 69 position so that we could orally stimulate each other back to the harness required for the long, hard fuck session of round 2. On the other side of the bed Larry & my wife were doing the same.....
If only it were true!
bimale4cplsintn
Virgin
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2006
- Posts
- 14
Re: If only it were true!
I guess I should have proof read my post before I submitted it (LOL)!
Oh, well. Think of it as a "Stream of consciousness!
I guess I should have proof read my post before I submitted it (LOL)!
Oh, well. Think of it as a "Stream of consciousness!
toledoblues
Virgin
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2007
- Posts
- 11
Great stories everyone!
I'll update you on my wife Lisa's current "situation", for want of a better word!
Her and Rob are still seeing each other, I've been able to watch them sometimes, other times I prefer to be in the next room and let my imagination do the work.
Seeing Rob and her fuck is amazing. She loves the sex, as does he, and while I love it when she talks to me while he is balls deep in her, telling me how good it feels etc, my favourite part is when she forgets about me and just enjoys it. It's like I'm not there and her and Rob are just two people fucking. Rob loves her tits, and I can't really blame him I suppose. I remember seeing him play with them on our couch for the first time and being so much in love with my wife all over again. It's like it reminded me how beautiful she is.
We've tried a threesome a few times as well, which I thought I'd love, but for me feels a little awkward. I'm more than happy to wait my turn!! Lisa, however, really got off on having a dick in her mouth as another one was in her pussy which surprised me a bit, but I suppose it's all part of her awakening.
At the moment she's with Rob a couple of days a week after gym. On the other days she's now always up for it with me too, which basically means she's getting it atleast once a day, which has never been the case in the past! She spent last night at Robs place, which she has done a few times when it has been easier logistically, and all night I lay there picturing what they were doing to each other and was constantly hard.
I'm a bit surprised with how quickly Lisa has changed from a fairly conservative girl to her current highly sexed self, but at the same time I've never been happier about it!!
I'll update you on my wife Lisa's current "situation", for want of a better word!
Her and Rob are still seeing each other, I've been able to watch them sometimes, other times I prefer to be in the next room and let my imagination do the work.
Seeing Rob and her fuck is amazing. She loves the sex, as does he, and while I love it when she talks to me while he is balls deep in her, telling me how good it feels etc, my favourite part is when she forgets about me and just enjoys it. It's like I'm not there and her and Rob are just two people fucking. Rob loves her tits, and I can't really blame him I suppose. I remember seeing him play with them on our couch for the first time and being so much in love with my wife all over again. It's like it reminded me how beautiful she is.
We've tried a threesome a few times as well, which I thought I'd love, but for me feels a little awkward. I'm more than happy to wait my turn!! Lisa, however, really got off on having a dick in her mouth as another one was in her pussy which surprised me a bit, but I suppose it's all part of her awakening.
At the moment she's with Rob a couple of days a week after gym. On the other days she's now always up for it with me too, which basically means she's getting it atleast once a day, which has never been the case in the past! She spent last night at Robs place, which she has done a few times when it has been easier logistically, and all night I lay there picturing what they were doing to each other and was constantly hard.
I'm a bit surprised with how quickly Lisa has changed from a fairly conservative girl to her current highly sexed self, but at the same time I've never been happier about it!!
MilkFountain
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2005
- Posts
- 1,481
"Norma, Truckers & The Hot Springs," Part II (Continuation)
With the setting of the sun and Brian Adams in our ears, the air cooled as our van carried us higher up the recently graded logging road in the darkening forest that blanketed the mountain. Norma rolled her window up against the night air. She quickly dressed again, including boots. As she drew a sweater around her shoulders and tucked her dancer’s legs up under her, I glanced over at her contented, expectant face, softly lit by the dash lights.
I thought, it doesn’t get better than this.
As I wrestled the wheel around corners our halogen headlamps were stark funnels of light bounding over the truck-hardened dirt between the trees. Once I leaned toward the windshield and far overhead glimpsed a patch of dark blue sky, visible only because the forest was black around us. I wondered if our lights would surprise a crossing bear, raccoon or deer. Our dog, Esme, standing on the stovetop just behind us craned her neck forward, between us and over our heads, eyes wide and inquisitively scanned the air with her nose.
For different reasons, she was as curious and as impatient as we were. Esme’s nose quivered, drawing in who-knows-what bouquet from the night. It suddenly wrinkled as it paused on finding something interesting on the air and then continued, quivering on up the stream of aromas coming at her out of the mysterious forest.
It took a quarter of an hour to second-gear it up the 12 kilometers on the steep logging road to the hot springs. We began to see patches of old, dirty snow along the side of the road, and then dust-blackened drifts. The air chilled inside the car, and although I turned on the heater, Norma tugged the edge of her sweater down over her tucked up legs. Soon our tires were crunching through deep tracks in many-times melted and frozen snow. And then the moon appeared between the trees high overhead, just past full. It brought the landscape to life, illuminating the pines so that we could see them individually and that they were not black, but very dark green.
I was afraid there’d be no sign, but in a small clearing off to the right side, on a 100-meter straight halfway between two curves, there was a clearing. There was enough space for maybe 5 cars to park, and a small wooden sign, silver with age, and on it, carefully hand-lettered, the words:
Hot springs, 300 meters.
Norma had dozed off. I kneeled on my seat, slipped an arm around her waist, gathered her to me and with my free hand lifted her near breast. I kissed it once, then drew her blouse and nipple deeply into my mouth. Her eyes opened.
“We’re here” I said. We gathered towels, a thermos still half full of hot chocolate and a couple of oranges, locked the van and trudged sleepily up the narrow, overgrown (a good sign!) trail, Esme at our heels or bounding ahead.
As we approached, slipping on the hardened snow underfoot that had melted and frozen so many days through the summer but had been preserved in the shade the surrounding walls of trees made, we heard a roar of cascading water. It grew louder as we climbed.
We came out on a broad, steaming pond, its edges overgrown with moss and dangling, small red wildflowers that hung, dripping, in the swirling mist rising from the water. No one else was there.
Ferns sprouted everywhere and the trees were covered on the sides facing the pool with moss as high as we could see. The bark of the trees was black with moisture. I saw that someone long ago had carted local rocks to enclose and enlarge the natural hot pool that bubbled up beside the flow of the tumbling stream that foamed white in the moonlight. Only a foot-thick wall of rock, soil and tangled tree roots separated the pool from the creek.
We dropped our packs and shucked out of clothes, laughing, hopping and holding onto each other for balance in the moonlight as we struggled to unlace our boots. The moonlight on Norma’s skin turned her for a moment to marble. With her breasts taught, high and visibly quivering in the cold air as she hesitated at the edge of the mist rising from the surface of the water, they were dramatic in the bright moonlight. Their tops were white marble, the curves of their undersides ebony, turning the mounds enormous above her rounded belly and strong thighs. Her nipples stood out against the cold.
She tested the water with a toe, smiled at me, and then gingerly lowered a leg through the vapor. Her calf disappeared into the water, then her knee, and finally she found bottom and then plunged in. Turning to me, sweeping the surface of the water with both arms outstretched, she gleefully beckoned me to join her. The water came high up on her belly, lapping at the undersides of her breasts. In the hot water, her nipples had turned bright pink
The cauldron of water was slightly sulfurous. At the right height below the surface we found a stone bench someone had thoughtfully built. Near us, for we were sitting on the far side from where we had entered, was a small, hand-lettered copper plaque, green with time:
“Charles Fortner and Samuel Claire, gold miners, built this pool in the winter of 1856. Trapped by an early blizzard, they survived in this hot water and by eating what critters they could catch.”
I pulled Norma across and onto me, settled her seated between my legs and wrapped my arms around her. The moonlight that filtered through the canopy of pine overhead turned the steam white, so that as we let the The water was hot enough to tingle on my skin and raise my core temperature so that I settled into a coma of relaxation, staring up over Norma’s hair into the swirling steam and black night around us. I thought how far we two were from the anyone else and from any city, there high on the side of the Sawtooth Range in British Columbia. The only sound was the rushing ice-melt water scant feet from us, the only sensation Norma’s hips fell round between my thighs. Her breasts floated in the currents of rising hot water, resting lightly in my cupping hands.
Sliding forward along the undersides of her breasts, I started to massage her nipples. Not pinching, I spun them constantly between thumbs and fingers, until Norma leaned back and kissed me over her shoulder, turning so that both her breasts slid in to lie in the sling formed by one of my forearms. I slid my other hand down over her belly.
Just then, a voice boomed to us out of the fog.
“Hi! Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Nice water, ay?” Two dark shapes loomed over us through the mist, standing on the other side of the pool.
“Good evening,” I said, not moving.
“We’re just up from the logging camp, Ay? Mind if we join you?”
They turned and, like ghosts, immediately disappeared into the wall of vapor. Their voices came to us faintly, muffled in the dense clouds of steam. With Norma again sitting beside me, I took the moment of privacy, and perhaps driven by the men’s presence, to lift one of Norma’s breasts to my mouth, sucking until it filled it and my throat was filled with her nipple.
The young men reappeared out of the mist and took shape standing above us. Big, muscular and naked, they were young, maybe 25 or 28 years old.
Clumsy and boyish, the larger and stockier of the two threw his towel over a low pine bow and without hesitation jumped feet first into the water, splashing us and making Norma laugh. The other boy held two candles in one hand and a box of matches in the other. He asked if we minded his lighting the candles. It was obvious that they had been here before.
Once he’d wedged the two candles securely into the moss at either end of the pool, he joined the three of us, sliding in slowly, as I had. The two young men squatted neck deep two meters across from us, returning our happy grins.
We four were silent for long moments. They splashed themselves, getting used to the water before they ducked their heads beneath the surface. As they shook the water from their shaggy heads, like dogs just out of a stream, I asked where they were from. The usual questions and quick answers tumbled out of all four of us. They introduced themselves as Greg and Mark. They were polite, but I saw their eyes often flickering over my wife.
The volcanically heated water kept her hair on the surface, fanned black on either side of her shoulders. Looking down at her, all I saw was her black her, nearly white face and breasts barely submerged in the water.
The currents rose up to caress our feet, legs, inner thighs and groin. It tickled our bellies and made my wife’s hair eddy and ebb around her shoulders. It moved her floating breasts in the rising current, and I wondered if Mark and Greg could see the tops of them through the mist, as I could see them shining in the candlelight. As if in answer to my question, Greg, the larger and brawnier of the two men, lay back in the water.
He rested the back of his head on a mossy rock, still looking across at us and asked how we’d found this place. As we looked at him, he closed his eyes, apparently surrendering to the movement and heat of the pool, and to the fragrance of pine needles mingling with the sulfurous volcanic water. That’s when his legs floated to the surface.
His knees appeared first, a meter or more apart, so that Norma must have been looking up between them the length of his submerged body to his face. Then his toes surfaced, hovering over what had to be about where Norma’s legs were. Not more than a meter and a half from her face and at about the same level, his cock emerged. The tip and several inches of the shaft had broken from the surface into the mist. At half-mast, it bobbed from the hot depths like a fat sausage, and lolled to one side, so that we saw the full length of it beyond the wrinkled sack of his scrotum.
And so I knew, they could certainly see my wife’s breasts.
Greg’s cock stiffened in the cooler air. It floated on it side for a moment, nodded once, wavered, and then visibly thickened, raising its head from the water. As it swung up to lie on his belly, I noticed that he was circumcised.
All this took no more than a few seconds.
Abruptly he sat up, his legs, knees and cock abruptly sucked down out of sight—as if dragged down by a passing shark. His eyes opened for a moment, long enough to glance across at us, perhaps wondering what we’d seen. His face was red, from the heat I supposed.
Squatting with their backs to the rocks on the far side, they bobbed in the water, both holding onto the sides. They tried different positions to keep themselves immersed. They had brought a bottle of Canada’s best rye whisky—Weiser’s Oldest. They passed it to us, and so it made the rounds, each of us drinking directly from the bottle, our smiles broader each time we lowered the bottle from our mouths. We talked very little then, seeming to smile a lot, occasionally remarking on little things—how much the moon, now high in the sky, lit the landscape; how beautiful the dew that accumulated from the mist on the pine needles was as it hung in droplets from pine needle tips in the candlelight; and, Mark shyly commented, how beautiful Norma looked.
Time passed. The air chilled. I felt the heat of the water reach my core. I began to feel slightly feverish. As our eyes adjusted to the candlelight our faces seemed brighter and brighter. The men liked talking to Norma. After a while it seemed they had turned their attention wholly on her, les and less frequently glancing over at me.
Although from the first moment when they’d begun clinging to the side of the pool to remain immersed, I would have invited anyone to share the underwater bench with us, but had felt reluctant under the circumstances. Now, conversation, good whisky and the heat of Norma’s hip on mine, had made me begin to feel guilty that we were hogging what I now assumed was the only place to comfortably sit in the pool.
Feeling along the bench, I found it extended only a few inches to my right. I asked Norma if there was room on her side for the boys to join us.
Norma felt to her left, and then sat up, looking up at me. She said “Maybe. There’s a little more room next to me.”
“Mark, Greg,” I said, standing now and looking down on them. “Why don’t you join my wife?” There’s just room enough for three. I’ve got to move around.”
In sitting up, Norma’s breasts had come completely out of the water. They looked pale and full. The nipples were orange-red, like prawns when boiled, the areola even darker. Her hair now clung to her shoulders, forming a black frame around her breasts, now streaming bright in the candlelight.
“No, no, stay there,” I said, turning to her. “You three are enjoying talking to each other, and I’m a bit dizzy with the heat.
I looked at the men. “Just sit on either side of her,” I said. “Keep her company. I need a dip in the river.” I half staged, genuinely dizzy from the hour or so I’d sat up to my neck in the hundred-and-something-degree hot springs.
As I surged toward the pool edge, my legs feeling heavy, Greg lightly bumped into me on his way across the pool. I distinctly felt his cock brush my hip. Now I understand women better. There is no mistaking a rigid cock. It was if I’d been struck by a child’s playfully flailing arm. I looked back at Norma, expecting her eyes to be on me, either angry, questioning, hurt because she felt abandoned, or all three.
What delightful devils women are.
No, she was looking, eye level, at Greg’s approaching cock. In profile, I saw that Mark, just now standing up to cross the pool, was in the same condition. Norma had subsided into the water. Greg, looking down on her as he turned to sit, had the same view as I’d had . . . the candlelight softly illuminating her face, shoulders, arms and breasts. Her belly, hips and thighs would be just visible beneath the slowly churning water.
I half stumbled toward the riverside edge of the pool, saying over my shoulder to Norma “I’ve got to cool off.” (Like "Cliff-hangers" of long ago, to be continued.")
With the setting of the sun and Brian Adams in our ears, the air cooled as our van carried us higher up the recently graded logging road in the darkening forest that blanketed the mountain. Norma rolled her window up against the night air. She quickly dressed again, including boots. As she drew a sweater around her shoulders and tucked her dancer’s legs up under her, I glanced over at her contented, expectant face, softly lit by the dash lights.
I thought, it doesn’t get better than this.
As I wrestled the wheel around corners our halogen headlamps were stark funnels of light bounding over the truck-hardened dirt between the trees. Once I leaned toward the windshield and far overhead glimpsed a patch of dark blue sky, visible only because the forest was black around us. I wondered if our lights would surprise a crossing bear, raccoon or deer. Our dog, Esme, standing on the stovetop just behind us craned her neck forward, between us and over our heads, eyes wide and inquisitively scanned the air with her nose.
For different reasons, she was as curious and as impatient as we were. Esme’s nose quivered, drawing in who-knows-what bouquet from the night. It suddenly wrinkled as it paused on finding something interesting on the air and then continued, quivering on up the stream of aromas coming at her out of the mysterious forest.
It took a quarter of an hour to second-gear it up the 12 kilometers on the steep logging road to the hot springs. We began to see patches of old, dirty snow along the side of the road, and then dust-blackened drifts. The air chilled inside the car, and although I turned on the heater, Norma tugged the edge of her sweater down over her tucked up legs. Soon our tires were crunching through deep tracks in many-times melted and frozen snow. And then the moon appeared between the trees high overhead, just past full. It brought the landscape to life, illuminating the pines so that we could see them individually and that they were not black, but very dark green.
I was afraid there’d be no sign, but in a small clearing off to the right side, on a 100-meter straight halfway between two curves, there was a clearing. There was enough space for maybe 5 cars to park, and a small wooden sign, silver with age, and on it, carefully hand-lettered, the words:
Hot springs, 300 meters.
Norma had dozed off. I kneeled on my seat, slipped an arm around her waist, gathered her to me and with my free hand lifted her near breast. I kissed it once, then drew her blouse and nipple deeply into my mouth. Her eyes opened.
“We’re here” I said. We gathered towels, a thermos still half full of hot chocolate and a couple of oranges, locked the van and trudged sleepily up the narrow, overgrown (a good sign!) trail, Esme at our heels or bounding ahead.
As we approached, slipping on the hardened snow underfoot that had melted and frozen so many days through the summer but had been preserved in the shade the surrounding walls of trees made, we heard a roar of cascading water. It grew louder as we climbed.
We came out on a broad, steaming pond, its edges overgrown with moss and dangling, small red wildflowers that hung, dripping, in the swirling mist rising from the water. No one else was there.
Ferns sprouted everywhere and the trees were covered on the sides facing the pool with moss as high as we could see. The bark of the trees was black with moisture. I saw that someone long ago had carted local rocks to enclose and enlarge the natural hot pool that bubbled up beside the flow of the tumbling stream that foamed white in the moonlight. Only a foot-thick wall of rock, soil and tangled tree roots separated the pool from the creek.
We dropped our packs and shucked out of clothes, laughing, hopping and holding onto each other for balance in the moonlight as we struggled to unlace our boots. The moonlight on Norma’s skin turned her for a moment to marble. With her breasts taught, high and visibly quivering in the cold air as she hesitated at the edge of the mist rising from the surface of the water, they were dramatic in the bright moonlight. Their tops were white marble, the curves of their undersides ebony, turning the mounds enormous above her rounded belly and strong thighs. Her nipples stood out against the cold.
She tested the water with a toe, smiled at me, and then gingerly lowered a leg through the vapor. Her calf disappeared into the water, then her knee, and finally she found bottom and then plunged in. Turning to me, sweeping the surface of the water with both arms outstretched, she gleefully beckoned me to join her. The water came high up on her belly, lapping at the undersides of her breasts. In the hot water, her nipples had turned bright pink
The cauldron of water was slightly sulfurous. At the right height below the surface we found a stone bench someone had thoughtfully built. Near us, for we were sitting on the far side from where we had entered, was a small, hand-lettered copper plaque, green with time:
“Charles Fortner and Samuel Claire, gold miners, built this pool in the winter of 1856. Trapped by an early blizzard, they survived in this hot water and by eating what critters they could catch.”
I pulled Norma across and onto me, settled her seated between my legs and wrapped my arms around her. The moonlight that filtered through the canopy of pine overhead turned the steam white, so that as we let the The water was hot enough to tingle on my skin and raise my core temperature so that I settled into a coma of relaxation, staring up over Norma’s hair into the swirling steam and black night around us. I thought how far we two were from the anyone else and from any city, there high on the side of the Sawtooth Range in British Columbia. The only sound was the rushing ice-melt water scant feet from us, the only sensation Norma’s hips fell round between my thighs. Her breasts floated in the currents of rising hot water, resting lightly in my cupping hands.
Sliding forward along the undersides of her breasts, I started to massage her nipples. Not pinching, I spun them constantly between thumbs and fingers, until Norma leaned back and kissed me over her shoulder, turning so that both her breasts slid in to lie in the sling formed by one of my forearms. I slid my other hand down over her belly.
Just then, a voice boomed to us out of the fog.
“Hi! Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Nice water, ay?” Two dark shapes loomed over us through the mist, standing on the other side of the pool.
“Good evening,” I said, not moving.
“We’re just up from the logging camp, Ay? Mind if we join you?”
They turned and, like ghosts, immediately disappeared into the wall of vapor. Their voices came to us faintly, muffled in the dense clouds of steam. With Norma again sitting beside me, I took the moment of privacy, and perhaps driven by the men’s presence, to lift one of Norma’s breasts to my mouth, sucking until it filled it and my throat was filled with her nipple.
The young men reappeared out of the mist and took shape standing above us. Big, muscular and naked, they were young, maybe 25 or 28 years old.
Clumsy and boyish, the larger and stockier of the two threw his towel over a low pine bow and without hesitation jumped feet first into the water, splashing us and making Norma laugh. The other boy held two candles in one hand and a box of matches in the other. He asked if we minded his lighting the candles. It was obvious that they had been here before.
Once he’d wedged the two candles securely into the moss at either end of the pool, he joined the three of us, sliding in slowly, as I had. The two young men squatted neck deep two meters across from us, returning our happy grins.
We four were silent for long moments. They splashed themselves, getting used to the water before they ducked their heads beneath the surface. As they shook the water from their shaggy heads, like dogs just out of a stream, I asked where they were from. The usual questions and quick answers tumbled out of all four of us. They introduced themselves as Greg and Mark. They were polite, but I saw their eyes often flickering over my wife.
The volcanically heated water kept her hair on the surface, fanned black on either side of her shoulders. Looking down at her, all I saw was her black her, nearly white face and breasts barely submerged in the water.
The currents rose up to caress our feet, legs, inner thighs and groin. It tickled our bellies and made my wife’s hair eddy and ebb around her shoulders. It moved her floating breasts in the rising current, and I wondered if Mark and Greg could see the tops of them through the mist, as I could see them shining in the candlelight. As if in answer to my question, Greg, the larger and brawnier of the two men, lay back in the water.
He rested the back of his head on a mossy rock, still looking across at us and asked how we’d found this place. As we looked at him, he closed his eyes, apparently surrendering to the movement and heat of the pool, and to the fragrance of pine needles mingling with the sulfurous volcanic water. That’s when his legs floated to the surface.
His knees appeared first, a meter or more apart, so that Norma must have been looking up between them the length of his submerged body to his face. Then his toes surfaced, hovering over what had to be about where Norma’s legs were. Not more than a meter and a half from her face and at about the same level, his cock emerged. The tip and several inches of the shaft had broken from the surface into the mist. At half-mast, it bobbed from the hot depths like a fat sausage, and lolled to one side, so that we saw the full length of it beyond the wrinkled sack of his scrotum.
And so I knew, they could certainly see my wife’s breasts.
Greg’s cock stiffened in the cooler air. It floated on it side for a moment, nodded once, wavered, and then visibly thickened, raising its head from the water. As it swung up to lie on his belly, I noticed that he was circumcised.
All this took no more than a few seconds.
Abruptly he sat up, his legs, knees and cock abruptly sucked down out of sight—as if dragged down by a passing shark. His eyes opened for a moment, long enough to glance across at us, perhaps wondering what we’d seen. His face was red, from the heat I supposed.
Squatting with their backs to the rocks on the far side, they bobbed in the water, both holding onto the sides. They tried different positions to keep themselves immersed. They had brought a bottle of Canada’s best rye whisky—Weiser’s Oldest. They passed it to us, and so it made the rounds, each of us drinking directly from the bottle, our smiles broader each time we lowered the bottle from our mouths. We talked very little then, seeming to smile a lot, occasionally remarking on little things—how much the moon, now high in the sky, lit the landscape; how beautiful the dew that accumulated from the mist on the pine needles was as it hung in droplets from pine needle tips in the candlelight; and, Mark shyly commented, how beautiful Norma looked.
Time passed. The air chilled. I felt the heat of the water reach my core. I began to feel slightly feverish. As our eyes adjusted to the candlelight our faces seemed brighter and brighter. The men liked talking to Norma. After a while it seemed they had turned their attention wholly on her, les and less frequently glancing over at me.
Although from the first moment when they’d begun clinging to the side of the pool to remain immersed, I would have invited anyone to share the underwater bench with us, but had felt reluctant under the circumstances. Now, conversation, good whisky and the heat of Norma’s hip on mine, had made me begin to feel guilty that we were hogging what I now assumed was the only place to comfortably sit in the pool.
Feeling along the bench, I found it extended only a few inches to my right. I asked Norma if there was room on her side for the boys to join us.
Norma felt to her left, and then sat up, looking up at me. She said “Maybe. There’s a little more room next to me.”
“Mark, Greg,” I said, standing now and looking down on them. “Why don’t you join my wife?” There’s just room enough for three. I’ve got to move around.”
In sitting up, Norma’s breasts had come completely out of the water. They looked pale and full. The nipples were orange-red, like prawns when boiled, the areola even darker. Her hair now clung to her shoulders, forming a black frame around her breasts, now streaming bright in the candlelight.
“No, no, stay there,” I said, turning to her. “You three are enjoying talking to each other, and I’m a bit dizzy with the heat.
I looked at the men. “Just sit on either side of her,” I said. “Keep her company. I need a dip in the river.” I half staged, genuinely dizzy from the hour or so I’d sat up to my neck in the hundred-and-something-degree hot springs.
As I surged toward the pool edge, my legs feeling heavy, Greg lightly bumped into me on his way across the pool. I distinctly felt his cock brush my hip. Now I understand women better. There is no mistaking a rigid cock. It was if I’d been struck by a child’s playfully flailing arm. I looked back at Norma, expecting her eyes to be on me, either angry, questioning, hurt because she felt abandoned, or all three.
What delightful devils women are.
No, she was looking, eye level, at Greg’s approaching cock. In profile, I saw that Mark, just now standing up to cross the pool, was in the same condition. Norma had subsided into the water. Greg, looking down on her as he turned to sit, had the same view as I’d had . . . the candlelight softly illuminating her face, shoulders, arms and breasts. Her belly, hips and thighs would be just visible beneath the slowly churning water.
I half stumbled toward the riverside edge of the pool, saying over my shoulder to Norma “I’ve got to cool off.” (Like "Cliff-hangers" of long ago, to be continued.")
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