by Vivian Ward
“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 relationships. 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 starin
g in our direction.
“Owwww!” the other guy yells.
“Oh my God!” I say to my husband. “Why’d you do that?”
“If you don’t get inside that tent right now, we’re going to be putting on a show outside for them to see,” he says. “Teasing me like that is very naughty.”
“You like this naughty girl,” I tease back.
Chapter 3
Beth
Pulling my shirt over my head, I grin at Tom as an idea fills my head.
“How naughty would you like me to be?” I ask him.
He slides his pants off, revealing his semi-erect cock. Yep, that’s right. He doesn’t wear underwear. My husband goes commando. I think he owns two pairs of boxers for special occasions like weddings or funerals when he puts on a suit, but other than that he never wears them.
I’ve teased him a million times that I don’t know how his balls don’t get chafed. The way he sweats while working on rooftops would make one think that his nut sac would get raw and red, but somehow it doesn’t.
“What do you have in mind?” he says, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
We’ve always been a sexually adventurous couple. I can’t count how many times we’ve had sex outdoors or in public places. The whole aspect of ‘getting caught’ is appealing to us and turns us on.
It’s such a rush to wonder if or when someone will discover you—or even better, when you know they’re watching you but you keep going and put on a good show for them.
One time we were fucking at a park just before sunset not long after we’d gotten married. We made the mistake of thinking that we were alone. There was no one in sight, and everything was quiet.
Tom lifted me onto the hood of his Jeep and started going down on me. Thinking we were alone, I was anything but silent as his tongue fiercely flicked my clit and he finger-fucked me as the chilly breeze tickled my skin.
After teasing me for what felt like forever, he stood on the front bumper and fucked me like it would be the last time he’d ever get to do it again. Half-way through, I felt like someone was watching us—and I was right.
There was a man who appeared to be finishing his evening jog, resting at the picnic tables. He was older, in his late 40’s or early 50’s, and wore a pair of running shorts with a matching shirt. The man was leaning over the table, sucking for air and couldn’t take his eyes off of us.
I remember being startled that he might call the police on us or something, but he didn’t.
“Tom,” I said to him. “There’s a man over by the tables watching us.”
He slowed his movement and looked over toward the picnic area and smiled.
“Yeah? He sure is,” Tom laughed. “Let’s give him a good show.”
Picking up his pace, he continued to fuck me.
“But what if he calls the cops or comes over here?” I asked, trying not to panic.
Even though I was scared, I knew Tom wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. I have always known that as long as Tom’s around, I’m always safe.
“He won’t.”
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
I couldn’t look away from the man as my husband continued to fuck me on the hood of his jeep as the light breeze caused goosebumps to prickle on my skin. The whole time he hammered into me, the stranger and I stared at each other.
Something about the way he couldn’t look away turned me on. It turned on my husband, too. We both knew that we were being watched, and it did something to us—or for us.
This was how we discovered that we were exhibitionists. It was so fucking racy and dirty to let a complete stranger watch my husband impale me in an open place.
As Tom continued to fuck me, the man watched my large breasts bounce with each thrust and began to rub himself through his shorts.
“Tom,” I moaned. “The man is rubbing himself.”
My husband looked at the stranger who was still catching wind from his jog while stroking what was about to become a full-blown erection and looked down at me.
“Let’s show him something he’ll never forget,” he growled in my ear seconds before he licked my throat.
I’m still not sure if it was something my husband did or the excitement of being an exhibitionist for the first time, but I was coming all over his cock within seconds.
Nothing could have stopped me from moaning and calling out Tom’s name, not even the stranger who was intently watching us. As soon as he heard my cries and saw my back arch as my husband fucked me faster, the man pulled his dick out and started jacking off.
Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe I’m mistaken since he was so far away, but I swear to this day that he was jacking off in rhythm to the way Tom’s hips crashed against me.
“Oh god,” I moaned in pleasure to my husband. “He’s got it out, and he’s jacking off!”
My husband looked over at the jogger and smiled.
“Yes, he is,” he nodded at the man.
I can’t describe it, but it was almost like my husband was granting him approval or giving him permission to watch us or something because the man became even more vulgar and really started stroking it.
Ironically, he and Tom both finished around the same time.
After Tom slipped out of me and I climbed down off the hood, the man seemingly disappeared as quickly as he had originally appeared.
Since then, there have been many times where we’ve had sex out in the open with the hopes of ‘getting caught.'
Making out my husband’s features through the darkness of the tent, I pull him closer to me as we listen to the guys next to our campsite continue on with their partying.
“Come here,” I say to him. “I want those guys next door to know what it sounds like for a man to fuck his wife well.”
Even in the darkness of the tent, I can feel my husband’s smile, and for a minute, I think I can see his movie-star teeth.
“By all means, Mrs. Crescent,” Tom says, sliding on top of me. “I think we should.”
His mouth covers mine, and our tongues begin to dance a feverish pitch as his hands start exploring my body.
He breaks our kiss, making my lips beg for more.
“That’s a good start, Mr. Crescent,” I giggle. “Now show me what you’ve really got!”
It takes less than two seconds before he finds the evidence of how turned on I really am. Knowing that the two men next to us are about to hear us and that my husband is going to fuck my brains out while they listen has me so fucking turned on that I’m dripping—literally—in anticipation.
“My, my, my,” he coos. “Mrs. Crescent, you seem to need some extra attention in certain areas. Let me take care of those needs for you.”
God, he’s so fucking sexy!
His head darts between my legs before he starts lapping my juices. The musky smell of my sex fills the tent, and it makes me want him even more.
“I need you,” I whisper, sucking in a deep breath as I say that last word.
The way his tongue twists like a tornado around my hood drives me insane.
“I’m all yours,” he says, stopping to suck on my clit as he makes his way back up to me.
My mouth finds his in the darkness as his body covers mine, his cock sliding into my opening with ease and our teeth clash against one another’s.
I can taste myself on him, and it’s so damn delicious. A hint of musky mixed with sweetness. The fact that it’s coating his lips makes it taste even better, almost perfect.
As soon as he’s inside of me, I moan in pleasure as his warm breath exhales against my ear, moving my hair.
“Damn, you feel so good,” his deep voice booms in my ear.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him in even deeper.
“Fuck me, Tom,” I say, locking my wrists behind his neck.
“Listen to that filthy mouth you have, Mrs. Crescent,” he teases. “If my dick weren't already occupying your pussy, I’d stuff it right in your
mouth to stop you from talking like that.”
I love my husband’s playful banter. He can be so naughty and funny at the same time.
“Well you can’t, Mr. Crescent, so you’ll just have to fuck me senseless,” I hiss, biting his earlobe.
Pistoning in and out of me, I can’t help but moan and call out his name. The louder I get, the faster he goes, and I can’t help but increase the volume of my voice so that he’ll go even faster.
Skin slapping against skin, whimpers and cries of me begging for more and the scent of sex filling the tent under the light of the moon bring out the animalistic side of Tom, causing him to not only fuck me fast but to go as deep as he can.
The men next to our campsite have been listening to us for quite a while based on the obscene phrases that they’ve been shouting and their cheers of encouragement.
I know my husband has held back for as long as possible, and I’m amazed by how long he’s lasting because any other time, he would’ve finished a long while ago but not tonight.
Tonight, he’s taking his time. He’s enjoying what is his and letting the whole world hear how much pleasure he gets from my body, and I’m glad to give it to him. In fact, I want to bring this man as much pleasure as humanly possible.
Clenching the muscles of my pelvic floor, I can feel myself tightening around his thickness that fills me as he fucks me with wreckless abandon; and I know he can feel it, too.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts through his teeth as he tries to keep his composure.
Sweat beading on his brow threatens to drip on me as I raise my hips to meet each of his thrusts and it feels so damn good.
“That’s it, baby,” I coo, stroking his sweaty hair as I watch my tits bounce. “Come in me. Let me have all of it.”
“Ohhhh,” he says, unable to stop.
Gently rocking my hips back and forth, I let him explode inside of me and can feel a warm rush of his seed spilling inside of me.
Keeping the same steady pace and rhythm, I continue to encourage him to keep going because I’m not done yet. I’m always good for one more orgasm after his cum fills me.