6 comments/ 80619 views/ 18 favorites Joan Takes a Big Step By: showher Thanks again to Editor Angel Love for my appearance of literacy, her good advice and a developing friendship. * The cold water was causing my wife's nipples and areolas to jut forward like small proud cones in her halter-top as the wet terrycloth molded itself to her small breasts. The beginning of June can be chilly for camping in north central Pennsylvania and the trout stream fed lakes stay fairly invigorating all year-round. We liked this area because it is fairly secluded and never over crowded. Our campground was virtually deserted with the exception of a few fishermen, two other families and a lone young man traveling on a bicycle. The first morning I emerged from the "grown-up" tent into a beautiful, morning sun that promised to warm the mountains into a pleasant, late spring day. The boys were still asleep in their dome tent. The tent was new this year at the request of the boys who wanted private quarters. Joan and I were equally pleased to have "private" quarters. I was building a small wood fire to take off the damp morning chill when Joan exited the tent wearing the white cotton shift she wore to lounge around the campsite. The chemise was ankle length, had long sleeves and a loose-fitting body. The steadily climbing sun gave sufficient back light to outline the body moving beneath. As the fire quickly caught, I shifted my attention to my bride of fourteen years. Joan moved around the camp making coffee and starting breakfast. From my vantage point, with the sun abetting my voyeurism, my wife's body was a perfect silhouette. Her small titties, just slightly sagging after three children, swayed and jiggled as she moved. She never wears a bra so I have to guess her cup size to be either a snug A or a loose B. They lay proudly on her chest and, I think, have improved with child rearing. Nature's limelight continued drawing shadow pictures against the shift. I could see Joan's waist nipping down from her chest to the flare of her hips. When she turned sideways the slight roundness of her belly and the jutting roundness of her bottom were evident. By way of a finale, it seemed, Joan turned to directly face the sun. Standing with her muscular, cheerleader legs slightly spread apart, her pear-shaped ass was perfectly outlined by an aura of sunlight. A shaft of light about two fingers across split the silhouette where her magnificent thighs meet. Giving a very slight hint of her womanhood. I was jolted out of the sun's anatomy lesson by the clatter of the boys tumbling out of their nylon bunkhouse. I assumed the last of the breakfast chores while Joan retired to our tent to change into the uniform of the day. She reappeared a few minutes later dressed in the terrycloth halter and shorts. The faint smell of her "Windsong" perfume, a light touch of make-up and her fresh from the shower look belied the fact that her eldest son was one year shy of teenhood. After a typical camp breakfast that resembled the menu at a truck stop the boys declared their intention to spend the majority of the day either in the lake or on the beach. Joan and I immediately capitulated envisioning a warm sunny day in a beach chair with some best seller prose. Already in bathing suits the boys were putting on their sneakers, I was tugging on a pair of Bean's moccasins and Joan was slipping into flip-flops. I couldn't help but notice that the scarlet polish on her toe and fingernails screamed against the hunter orange of her shorts and top. Only my seductress wife would wear nail polish in the woods. The day moved through the late morning and into the early afternoon with only us as any kind of permanent beach residents. A few people had come for a quick dip and left but we virtually owned the swim area. Joan and I spent some time reading and wading in the shallow water as the boys rotated between lake and beach, cold and warm. It was a very pleasant day. About one in the afternoon the young man on the bicycle arrived at the beach area. He wrapped a chain, enclosed in tubing, through the frame of the bicycle and through an eyebolt embedded in the concrete parking lot. I smiled; there probably wasn't a bicycle thief within a hundred miles. He started walking across the sandy beach toward the water. He was tall, about six feet, of average build, defined but not muscular. His hair was short, straight and satin black. He already sported a dark tan undoubtedly from his bicycle travels. The tan was evident by the white expanse between mid-thigh, where his biking shorts ended, and the thigh-high cut of his swimsuit. Half way across the beach he dropped his helmet in the sand and sprinted toward the cold water. He entered the water still at a sprint and dove headlong for deeper liquid. It was the move of a man lacking the courage to enter cold water step by step. The young man surfaced near the boys and within minutes new friendships were formed. There was a lot of splashing and cannon balling from the float. This went on until each rioter was a pale shade of blue at which time they headed for the warmth of the sand and towels. Chris introduced himself as a college junior from the University of Maine traveling cross-country on a bicycle. He had stopped here for two nights and would be leaving in the morning. He was a handsome young man with a healthy look and a compelling smile. You were immediately attracted to his friendly easy-going manner. He stood in front of us and talked as we sat in the sand. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Joan was having some difficulty avoiding the eye level bulge in his swimsuit. I did most of the talking to monopolize his attention allowing Joan to indulge herself, which she did, unaware of my assistance. Soon everyone warmed up and the boys and Chris bravely returned to the water. I lay back in the sand and said, "Well did you like what you saw?" "Yes, what a good-looking boy, nice buns." Joan made no pretense at innocence. In two short sentences we set up a sexual current between us that each sought to heighten. I could feel my heart beating faster and my lower belly began to crawl. Joan was watching Chris walk toward the water and she was absently bouncing her legs up and down causing her thighs to rub together. We have been playing some exhibition sex games since I discovered Joan liked to show herself to men. It is sexually exciting for me and very rewarding in our lovemaking. During some of our fantasy sessions we discussed Joan having sex with another man either on her own or with me as a third. Unspoken, that thought hung between us like a hot wire connecting our minds. "Why don't you go in the water and make a friend?" I suggested. She looked into my eyes and asked, "Are you sure about this?" We kissed our tongues fighting for control, I brushed her left tittie and said, "I love you and want you to do something thrilling, go for it!" Joan casually waded into the water toward Chris and her offspring. The water was up about mid-thigh when the onslaught began. For a few seconds she disappeared behind a wall of splashing turbulent water as the boys and Chris attacked. When she reemerged, she was laughing and choking at the same time. Her sandy blond hair hung in dripping ringlets and the terrycloth outfit had absorbed as much water as it would hold. The cold water was causing my wife's nipples and areolas to jut forward like small proud cones in her halter as the wet terrycloth molded itself to her small breasts. When she put on the outfit that morning, she had no intention of going into the cold lake water. Now the wet material clung to her body like a second skin. There was only Joan and the material no lining and no underwear. The game continued with Joan doing as much splashing as the rest but concentrating her efforts toward Chris. When she bent to scoop the water, the weight of the soaked and stretched terrycloth would pull the halter away from her chest allowing the college boy a view of two small but very lovely tits boasting half inch nipples and puckered areolas. A condition undoubtedly brought on by both the chilly water and anticipation. The material covering Joan's ass clung to her cheeks and settled into the cleft. During any retreat there was little doubt as to how that beautiful bottom would look naked. Chris dunked Joan a couple of times using, Joan later said, "Whatever protruding part of my landscape he could put his hands on." She admitted to trying to dunk him but succeeded only in getting a good feel of a hard body and what promised to be respectable package. After a few minutes of this mayhem Joan begged off claiming cold but really not wanting things to get out of hand in front of the children. She exited the water with the terrycloth hanging and clinging in all the right places. Chris' eyes mapped her retreat until she wrapped in a towel and sank down beside me. The boys and Chris came ashore shortly thereafter and we prepared to return to our campsite. "Why don't you come over to our camp about eight thirty for a beer or glass of wine?" I asked Chris. "Sounds great," he returned with a wave as he started toward his bike. Back at camp, in the privacy of the adult tent Joan was changing out of her wet things. Naked and cold her nipples trying to reach an inch long she looked both beautiful and wanton. I took her into my arms and ran my hands over the goose flesh of her cold ass. My erection held in check by my shorts pushed into her nakedness and she ground against me. "Do you mind that I invited Chris to join us?" I asked. I could feel the slight tremble Joan had when she got hot. "No," she replied a bit breathless, "I want the three of us to get better acquainted." "We'll just take things as they come. If either of us has any reservations, we'll end it then," I assured us both. The rest of late afternoon and early evening were consumed by camp chores, getting the boys some snacks and sitting around the campfire. About seven thirty Joan excused herself to go down to the restroom/shower area. I got the boys some cokes and broke out a bottle of California red for myself. By the time the kids had consumed the cokes and I was on my second glass of wine Joan reappeared. She sported damp hair but perfect make-up including scarlet red lipstick to match her nails. She smelled of soap and the ever-present perfume. After accepting my offer of a glass of wine Joan entered the tent and returned wearing the white cotton shift. As I handed her the wine I ran my hand down her back and over her ass. As I expected she was unencumbered by any garment other than the shift. I could feel my semi-erection move down the leg of my shorts. In a few minutes a stranger would be joining us for the evening and my wife was dressed in a thin cotton shift and was totally naked underneath. Chris arrived carrying twelve bottles of Labatt Blue and a lawn chair. He was dressed in sweat pants and v-neck pull over and smelled of English Leather; his ebony hair was combed straight back. It was dark enough now that when he smiled his white teeth gleamed in the firelight. Looking at this fine young man, I could understand why Joan was so immediately drawn to him. The boys, Chris and Joan started to prepare for roasting hotdogs and marshmallows. I grabbed a clean pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, excused myself and grabbed my own quick shower. Somewhere around ten the camp quieted down as our hotdog and s'more filled sons retired to their stronghold and the adults settled around the campfire. I stoked up the fire and added a couple of new logs resulting in a warm, bright light and in a few minuets a mellow feeling settled over the camp. Halfway into her second glass of wine Joan got up to check on the boys whose tent was set up at the farthest end of the camp site. "You probably couldn't wake them with a cherry bomb," she said reappearing from the shadows. My wife then started to tidy up the remains of the hotdog roast; a chore that placed her, often, between Chris and me and the bright fire. She was fully aware of the effect firelight had on the shift. She even paused long enough to add another log; a bending move that allowed the silhouette's small, pointy breasts to fall away from her chest. While firelight is a distant second to sunlight, Chris was enjoying the same sensuous silhouette dance I had enjoyed that morning. Chris fished in the cooler for his third beer as I poured my third glass of red. "More wine?" I called to Joan. Both Chris and I shifted our attention to the sultry dark shape moving beneath the shift. "About half a glass," my wife replied turning to face us with legs spread and the campfire directly behind. "Nice?" I queried nodding at Joan's silhouette. "Beautiful," Chris returned our eyes meeting and holding for one poignant second. "Chris and I have taken a survey of all males present and we are in agreement that you look very beautiful in the firelight," I quipped. "Don't forget your wine." Joan approached the table to retrieve her half glass of wine. She was close enough we could smell her perfume. She gave me an almost imperceptible nod of her head and probed deep into my eyes seeking confirmation. She found what she sought. She positioned herself, once again, between the firelight and Chris. Her legs spread slightly apart and took a sip from the goblet. "Thank you good gentlemen for the complement," with that slight tremor in her voice. "I must think of something to return the kindness." "Are you open for suggestions?" Chris' way of testing the waters. He continued with one arm outstretched, "If so, why not come over and join us." My wife walked to the side of Chris' lawn chair where his outstretched arm wound itself around her waist. Joan took a deep pull on the wineglass and moved in tight to Chris, who remained seated. Joan now had her hand on our guest's far shoulder and was gently rubbing the side of his neck. She was feeling some warming effect from the wine and drinking in the aroma of his "English Leather." Chris could undoubtedly feel her trembling. Her eyes seeking my assent Joan asked, "Should we move into the tent and light some candles?" Two pieces of mosquito netting and a brass zipper became the point of no return in a game Joan and I had embarked on after discovering we both enjoyed her showing off her body. My stomach felt like I had consumed a wasp's nest and my cock was now steadily seeking the waistband of my shorts. "Sounds great!" I managed, "Chris, any prior engagements?" "None that I wouldn't break," he replied smiling widely and tightening his arm around my wife's waist. Joan bent down and kissed Chris lightly on the lips unwound herself from his arm and moved to where I was standing. As her arms went around my neck she whispered, "I love you and I'm so excited I'm shaking. It feels like a fire and a million butterflies are sharing my belly." No intentions had ever been spoken aloud. It seemed we were acting as one entity. Chris was the perfect choice, unspoken thoughts seemed to pass between him, Joan and me as if telepathic. In silent agreement we started to move toward the tent. The tent was a large two-room affair, the main room eight foot by ten feet with a screened window in the back wall. With the exodus of our sons the smaller room on the side served as a storage area. The floor in the main room was laid with two large foam sleeping mats and two sleeping bags zipped together to form a king-size accommodation. Two camp chairs and a small folding table completed the master suite. Chris and I retrieved the wineglasses and cooler and placed them just inside the zippered screen door on the spare room side of the enclosure. The fire afforded us enough light to refresh our drinks and we took up residence in the camp chairs. I placed Joan's wineglass on the table between the chairs. She was busy lighting the half dozen candles divided between the table and a suitcase on the opposite side of the space. The lighting chores completed Joan unzipped the screen door closed the nylon outer flaps and re-zipped the screen. We were now enclosed in a private candlelit cocoon with ventilation provided by the back window. A smiling Joan, sipping from her glass, knelt between Chris and me. To break the ice I reached down and cupped my wife's right tit through the thin cotton. As I rolled the nipple between my fingers, I nodded to Chris' questioning look. Chris tentatively weighed Joan's left breast in his left hand. As a welcome to the advance she pulled his head down and placed a lingering, hungry kiss on his mouth. I could see her cheeks depressing as she sucked in his probing tongue. She broke the kiss but held his hand tight to her tittie. Setting down her wineglass, her free hand pulled me to her hot mouth. She was already breathing hard as our tongues entwined. I squeezed the tit allotted to me and I could feel Joan's rapidly beating heart. As she pulled her mouth from mine her hand closed over my hand on her breast. Kneeling between Chris and me still holding our hands on her tits Joan said, "It's going to be my party and I'm in charge. Agreed?" We couldn't agree fast enough. "What ever you want is fine with me!" replied Chris a slight rise in his voice betraying his excitement. "Whatever you want, I want sweetheart," I added. Joan stood and pulled Chris to his feet and moved into his willing arms. She pushed her groin into the tented area of his sweat pants and brought her lips to his in a ravenous, searching kiss. Chris' hands slid down Joan's back to maul her beautiful ass and pull her even tighter against the iron hard cock restrained by only the cotton of his sweat pants. Joan responded with a slight moan and a renewed assault on his mouth. I left my chair and moved behind my wife reaching between the two bodies to cup a breast in each hand. Turning around Joan redirected her attack, filling my mouth full of twisting tongue and hot breath. I mimicked Chris' earlier action by massaging her ass and her pulling steaming cunt hard against my own, now granite, cock. With some hesitation Joan pulled away from my embrace and asked in a very raggedy voice, "Why don't you guys take off those clothes and lie down on the sleeping bags? We have a long slow night and we might as well get comfortable." Chris shed his top and dropped his sweat pants down to his ankles. Emerging from a thick black nest of pubic hair was seven inches of rigid circumcised cock. He was fully erect and his cock was pointing straight up his stomach. Thick, bluish veins stood out on the white shaft. A darker, purple-tan head of about the same thickness topped his rigid column. With his cock climbing up Chris' belly Joan could see the split on the underside of the head. His testicles dangling, in their wrinkled pouch, from the base of his cock appeared to be the size of golf balls. There was an absence of any unnecessary fat on his body. The tanned, smoothly defined body exhibited a white area from mid-thigh to just below his navel. As Chris moved to extract himself from the sweats and tennis shoes, the white served to accent his dick and hard, tight ass. My wife looked mesmerized by the sight. As I removed my own clothing, everything appeared to be moving in slow motion. I could see Chris totally naked and Joan still clad in the shift reaching for his cock. She very gently stroked it a couple of times and motioned Chris to lie down. The light touch of Joan's hand must have been maddening for Chris. I'm shorter than Chris is and this early in the year my tan is non-existent. I've put on a few pounds but I'm not ashamed to wear a bathing suit. My wife's attention shifted to my naked erection, uncircumcised maybe an inch shorter but definitely thicker than Chris'. The head is large and has a protruding rim that both Joan and I can feel rubbing the walls of her vagina during intercourse. My wife's hand closed around my shaft and I drew her into my arms. Joan Takes a Big Step I whispered, "I love you and this night is yours and ours. Anything you want, I want you to have!" With an acknowledging squeeze of my cock Joan pushed me down toward the sleeping bags. Then she knelt between two naked men with their members fully erect and striving to reach new length records. I noticed there was already a drop of pre-cum on the head of Chris' "respectable" cock. Without a fanfare or any kind of theatrics Joan pulled off the shift and threw it into the storage area. She then sat back on her heels with her arms at her sides. An onrush of pride momentarily pushed the lust out of my heart. To me this was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Reinforcing my pride and rekindling my lust was the fact that another man, unknown to us until today, was also appraising my wife's naked body. Joan remained sitting on her heels and allowed us to take stock of her assets. Her little titties hung down and slightly to the outside of her chest. The pinkish nipples were protruding about a half-inch from the darker tightly puckered areola. There is enough round fullness on the undersides to make each tit stand out on her chest and form a miniature ski slope from the top down to the jutting buds. Sitting back on her heels with legs spread slightly apart, my wife's pussy was partly exposed to our guest and me. As our appraisal moved down her slightly rounded stomach to her swollen pussy lips, the candlelight reflected off the moisture forming on her flowering labia. The fine sandy blond hair covering her mons was so light that it failed to hide any aspect of her womanhood. After allowing sufficient time for our inspection Joan rose to her feet and slowly turned in a complete circle. Her arms hung at her sides. When the circle was complete, she faced us so that we could see her well-shaped and toned legs. While she stood naked devoid of clothing, the scarlet lips, toe nails and fingernails seemed to scream FUCK ME! She now made a half turn and presented us with a view of her magnificent, pear shaped milky white ass. The bottom of each cheek making almost a perfect half circle before forming the cleft where her thighs meet. Arms hanging down Joan did a quick shimmy move making that beautiful bottom sway from side to side. Chris exhaled audibly as if he had been holding his breath ever since Joan removed the shift. In a move both surprising and exciting Joan, still facing away from us, brought her feet together and bent at the waist and touched her toes. There, about arms length away was that lovely, scalding hot slit. Surrounding her pink labia were lips so swollen they looked as though they were stuffed with cotton. The fine blond hair sparkled with her juices. Joan turned and lay down on her back between Chris and me. We were three naked people fully charged with sexual emotions. At this point and until morning the outside world ceased to exist. The three of us were consumed only by what was unfolding within those, candle lit, nylon walls. Chris and I lay still as if in shock for what seemed like minutes but were only seconds. Joan finally slid her hands down our stomachs to fondle the hot rigid members and caress the balls now tightly protected in their wrinkled bags. "I thought you guys wanted to play with me!" Joan said in a husky voice. Galvanized by the voice Chris immediately rolled on his side and captured Joan's right tit in his mouth. I could see his jaw working as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. I raised on my elbow and leaned in to assault my wife's left breast. I nibbled her nipple and then tried to suck the whole little globe into my mouth. Chris, a quick study, saw what I was doing and attempted to suck in Joan's entire right tit. A loud intake of air testified to her enjoyment of our special mouth to tittie resuscitation. Continuing to suck and nibble the tit I slid my hand down Joan's belly toward her steaming womanhood. When my hand arrived at her sweet spot, it came to rest on the back of Chris' messaging hand. My moaning wife spread her legs wide so each of us could have access to her hot wet nest. At times in the initial grouping frenzy Chris and I both had fingers up Joan's pussy at the same time. "Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" tumbled unbidden from her mouth as we mutually probed her depths. I released her tit and covered Joan's mouth with mine trying to reach the back of her throat with my tongue. As Joan sucked my probing tongue, I could feel Chris' hand move away from her down covered mound. When I pulled away from my wife's kiss I realized Chris had risen to his knees and moved up to Joan's waist. His cock was jutting out in front of his stomach pointing at her face. "You're beautiful and the hottest woman I ever met. I love your slippery hot cunt" Chris uttered in a hoarse voice. "Max, I'll bet she's the best fuck you ever had." Stirred and excited by the crude statements Joan was quickly on her knees with arms around Chris straddling his member. From my vantage point, lying on the sleeping bag, I could see Chris' cock sliding between Joan's legs without penetration. Joan was sliding her cunt back and forth along the shaft. When she drove her pelvis against his I could see the shiny purple head of Chris' cock emerge at the bottom of the cleft in her white ass. "You're going to see just how good a fuck I am," Joan said in a trembling voice picking up the gutter jargon. "But first I want to taste your beautiful cock." Chris assumed a supine position on the sleeping area with Joan on her knees perpendicular to his body. She grasped the head of his dick between two scarlet nailed fingers and pushed it back against his body. Her warm wet tongue traced lines up and down the underside of our newest friend's hot meat. Joan was cupping Chris' balls in her free hand. When her licking brought her to the base of his cock she would suck one of his testicles into her mouth or run her tongue under his sac to where it met his ass. Chris was writhing in sexual ecstasy. Joan released his cock and the freed member sprang away from his stomach only to be engulfed in the mouth of my longtime wife. I watched in lustful fascination as Joan's head moved up and down on the rigid white shaft. Her wet red lips were stretched to form a perfect "O" and her cheeks were drawn in from the vacuum caused by the sucking motion. Joan kept her sucking at a slow even pace to avoid having Chris ejaculate too early in the party. While I watched and Chris enjoyed we again shared one tit each. I was kneading her left breast and rolling the nipple between my fingers. My other hand roamed down Joan's back where I could feel the dampness of her arousal sweat. My hand moved over her bottom, which was thrust in the air, and closed on her pussy eliciting a deep moan muffled by the presence of the cock in her mouth. She was very hot, very slippery and very puffy. Her lips were a thick spongy roll surrounding entrance to her vagina. I abandoned my worship of her pretty little tittie and positioned myself on my back with my face under her main altar. Raising my head slightly I made one tentative foray into that sweet pussy with my tongue. Joan's immediate reaction was to grind her pubic area into my face. It felt like someone was bathing my face with a hot, wet sponge. I could smell the woman smell mixed with the "Windsong" on her thighs and a very faint "English Leather" triggered by Chris' perspiration. A background metallic taste filled my mouth as I drank in Joan's juices and buried my tongue as far into her pussy as possible. Withdrawing my tongue I would suck her swollen lips into my mouth and gently chew them. After a few minutes of licking and teasing I captured her clitoris with my teeth and sucked and nibbled my way to Joan's first orgasm. Her body went rigid, her legs straightened and her toes pointed like a ballet dancer. Spasms wracked Joan's body; moans and groans of pleasure escaped both Joan and Chris. As her orgasm overtook her, Joan, in frenzied reaction deep-throated Chris burying her face in his abundant black pubic hair. As she withdrew another spasm caused her to clamp down on the cock with her teeth. She completely abandoned any attempt to delay Chris' orgasm and started sucking the life out of him. Peaking, Chris entwined his fingers in Joan's blond hair, pulled her to his cock and shot rope after rope of hot cum into her mouth. At the same time Joan continued to grind her pussy into my face until I thought I might suffocate. She experienced a second and third orgasm. As the excitement subsided, we untangled. Chris and Joan lay in each other's arms bodies glistening with a mixture of their sweat. I slid in behind Joan with my still hard manhood pushing into the cleft of her lovely bottom. "Oh honey, let me take care of that for you," Joan cooed. She gave Chris a lingering kiss and then positioned herself between my legs. As her hot mouth closed around my cock I knew it wouldn't take long. She started sucking and my mind re-ran earlier footage of her ardently giving our guest a great blowjob. Thinking of her sucking off a perfect strange brought me to a climax almost immediately. It was my turn to grab her hair and pull her face to my pulsing cock. I felt the molten lava racing from my balls to explode into Joan's eager mouth. She milked me until I was completely spent. Wiping her mouth with her hand Joan climbed up to lie on top of me straddling one thigh. Kissing me passionately she slid her sticky wet cunt against my leg. "I love this!" Joan proclaimed in a voice meant to be heard by both Chris and me. "I want it to go on and on and on, forever!" After the initial passion subsided, Chris stood up, cock dangling in front of him and asked, "How about a drink?" Agreeing, Joan and I watched in fascination the way his dick swung from side to side as he moved toward the cooler. Joan's eyes never left that "white" area. When he bent over to retrieve a couple of beers and the wine from the cooler Joan was rewarded with an erotic picture. Hanging down past the cleft in his tight ass was the distended bag holding his balls and showing below the balls was about two inches of flaccid cock. Joan moved off me and was sitting cross-legged, Indian style, when Chris returned with the drinks. Leaning over my wife to hand me a beer he intentionally brought his swaying meat within inches of Joan's face. He favored me with a broad grin at his own action. "I want some more of this!" Joan's head darted forward in a vain attempt to capture the white shaft with her teeth. This brought smiles and chuckles all around. Chris settled in beside Joan and as we lingered over our drinks we fondled and played with my wife's body occasionally sliding a finger between her incredibly smooth wet pussy lips. Joan shifted her wine from hand to hand taking turns stroking and cupping new life into our manhood. Chris was quickly recovering and his cock started to move up his belly. This was not lost on Joan, who concentrated her efforts on Chris' penis growth. She laid down beside him and started to lightly stroke his member while fastening her mouth to his and washing the inside of his mouth with her tongue. They were now lying on their sides facing each other. Chris' arm was across Joan's waist and his hand was full of her sweet, white, ass his other hand kneading a tit. Joan's hands were still busy on his balls and cock and each looked like they were sucking the tongue out of the other. Joan broke the kiss, in her trembling gutter talk said, "Max, I want Chris to fuck me." "I want him to fuck you too," I assured her matching the tremor in her voice. My heart increased to jackhammer mode and my cock suddenly started down the road to recovery. "Max, we need to share this; I want you to guide Chris' cock into me." "What?" not quite understanding Joan's statement. Joan replied slow and deliberate, "I want you to hold Chris' cock and guide it into my cunt so we can share the experience of Chris fucking me." Chris seemed completely calm and uninhibited. Whatever Joan was suggesting was all right with him. While it was obvious neither of us was gay we did appear to be comfortable with each other's nakedness. I got the message and started to get the show on the road. "Chris, you stand up and Joan I want you to lie on your back and spread those pretty legs apart." Chris stood like an actor taking direction, his member waving around in the air. Joan lay flat on her back causing her small titties to slide toward the outside of her chest, nipples and areolas still at attention. She spread her legs about three feet apart at the ankles exposing her swollen lips and flowering labia, which was glistening with her own nectar. Before proceeding I leaned in and ran my tongue the length of that sweet slit to be rewarded by a shudder and slight whine from Joan. "OK Chris, get on your knees in between Joan's legs about even with her knees." He obeyed instruction very well and by the look of his straining cock was impatient to get on with the scene. He didn't take his eyes off the spot where my wife's thighs joined. "Honey, I want you to pull your knees up until your feet are flat on the floor." Joan lay there sandy blonde hair on the sleeping bag, scarlet lipstick smeared from earlier lovemaking, tits slightly sagging to the side and her cheerleader legs pulled up and spread like a wanton whore. A naked stranger was kneeling between those legs. I thought she was erotic, beautiful and exciting. I was filled with a feeling I can't describe; a mixture of jealousy, love, pride and lust. My stomach was turning over and over. "Are you all right with this Chris?" I asked looking down at his rigid cock. "Yeah, fine. Itճ kind of exciting," he managed through his rapid breathing. I was kneeling on Joan's left side about waist high. With my right hand I massaged Joan's wet pussy then moved the same hand to Chris' swaying dick. I tentatively wrapped my hand around the cock close enough to the base to feel his pubic hair on my thumb and forefinger. His cock was incredibly hot to the touch and as I squeezed I could feel the blood pulsing through it. I was surprised to feel my own member jerk as a result of my touching Chris. I've had my own hard cock in my hand many, many times since puberty but grasping a cock from the front with your thumb down at the base gives it an entirely different feel. Chris was closer to six and a half inches than the seven I estimated earlier. With my hand wrapped tightly around his meat the purple head pushed against my wrist an inch and a half past the heel of my hand. Joan watching everything from her position on the sleeping bags put her hand on my right arm and raised her hips ever so slightly as a signal she was ready. I stroked Chris' cock twice. On the third stroke I just held tight and pulled as an indication for him to move forward. Not needing a second invitation Chris leaned over Joan placing a hand on either side of her waist. His right arm was outside of my right arm and hand, which still held his cock. Joan immediately gripped his arms at the biceps. Chris moved his knees forward. He was now well within striking distance. I pushed the hot member down until it touched Joan's pelvic bone and rubbed a few strokes sideways across her mons. I then moved it up and down her molten pussy. My wife was now making little whining sounds, her chest rising and falling at a very rapid rate. She looked from Chris to me and in a raspy voice said. "I want you two to fuck me . . . now! I moved Chris' cock to the center of the labia flower and with my left hand gave his ass a token push. He slowly drove his member in Joan's cunt until my hand was captured between two straining bodies. As he withdrew for his second stroke I moved my hand to Joan's stomach and lay down beside her. Her arm was around my neck drawing me to her devouring mouth. As we kissed I could hear Chris grunting and feel Joan's body absorbing the jolt of each thrust. The whining sounds escaping from Joan into my mouth were getting louder and more frequent. I pulled away from the kiss and propped on my right elbow stared into her eyes. We drowned in each other's gaze and I gently fondled her titties as the tempo of Chris' onslaught on my wife's cunt increased. Soon the whines turned into muffled screams, groans and oh gods! Joan removed her arm from my neck and laced her hands behind Chris' neck. Joan's eyes were now fixed on Chris' and her hips were driving against his every thrust. I watched his pistoning cock ramming into Joan's pussy and the pussy lips clinging to the hot intruder on the withdrawal stroke. There was a wet, sucking, slapping sound as the two bodies slammed together. The pace continued to increase. The whines, grunts, screams, groans and oh gods run together into a steady stream issuing from both. Joan was bucking as if having a seizure. Chris was trying to slam his six or seven inches of meat ten inches into Joan's body! Both sweat-covered bodies shone in the candlelight. I could see Chris' balls tight against his stiffened body as the seed began forcing itself against the floodgate. Chris gave a mighty thrust and held it. Joan's hips rose to meet the thrust almost lifting Chris off the floor. Streams of hot cum shot into Joan's vagina and escaped around her pussy lips as Chris continued to push deeper and deeper into her cunt. Her arms wound tightly around Chris' neck her body stiffened and she forced her womanhood against his groin. "Oh god, oh god, fuuuck me, fuuuck me!" from Joan as the orgasm wracked her body. As Chris collapsed on Joan's still bucking body she experienced her second orgasm. After lying together for a couple minutes Joan gently pushed Chris off, kissed him deeply and softly stroked his dick in appreciation. She then turned her attention to me. "I love you baby. Did you enjoy watching me with Chris? Are you ok with everything?" By way of answer I pulled her on top of me and said, "Chris please return the favor." Chris pushed Joan to a sitting position gripped my cock and inserted it into my wife's hot sticky pussy. It felt like boiling water surrounded my cock. Joan started bouncing up and down and grinding her womanhood against me as she continued to experience multiple orgasms. I pulled Joan down and kissed her, my hands gripping her white ass and my cock trying for depth. I exploded into her adding more semen to her already dripping cunt. I erupted in three or four mighty thrusts lifting Joan and my lower body off the ground. I then collapsed with Joan on top of me. Exhausted the three of us lay together occasionally fondling a body part until sleep overtook us. I awoke about five in the morning surprised to find myself alone in the tent. As I lay in the quiet trying to get oriented the faint sound of lovemaking came from outside the tent. I crawled quietly to the back window of the tent. There, out of sight of the boy's tent, were Chris and Joan. In the earliest faint light I could see Joan bent at the waist, supporting herself on a trunk of a tree. The chemise was bunched around her waist, and Chris was fucking her from behind. Joan was whimpering with each stroke and Chris was uttering muffled snorts like a bull in heat. I returned to the sleeping bag and listened as the sounds continued until Chris came. There were some good-byes and pauses I assumed were kissing. When Joan returned, I pretended I was asleep. Shedding the shift, she crawled in the bag and snuggled up against me. Groggily I enfolded her in my arms. We lay side by side. I had my arm across her waist, my hand gently squeezing her ass. My other arm was under her head and we were kissing. My erection was probing around her lower belly. My wife lifted her right leg across my hip. Her left hand reached between our bodies and guided my tool into her well-used pussy. Joan Takes a Big Step Slowly entering and very slowly withdrawing we could feel the mushroom head of my penis as it scraped the walls of her vagina. The rhythm increased only slightly until we reached our peak. Then we just clung to each other slowly grinding our pelvises together and telling each other what parts of the night excited us; and how much we loved each other. I never mentioned the good-bye tryst I observed earlier that morning. It was easy to bring my wanton wife to, yet, another climax and we exploded together. We made love!