0 comments/  11592 views/  10 favorites

Riverside Lust

By: yowser



First of a two-part tale, although each piece can stand alone. Same setting as the story "Arlene's Long Spermfest Weekend," but a year previous...

*********

Lenny is just about the horniest bastard I have ever known. We had been buddies since seventh grade and I had watched him run through a string of girlfriends in high school, and I don't even want to think about how many deflowered cunts got chalked up to his name in our backwoods town in New Hampshire. 

He wasn't particularly good looking or witty or charming or athletic or even well endowed - none of the things you normally would equate with success in the sexual arena - but he had a restless, unquenchable libido and an uncanny nose for sex, the erotic opportunity door cracked open just a sliver that would lead to some exciting, exotic sexual experience. And he was never one to be shy about forcing the door, if he thought the odds seemed even remotely favorable.

Back in high school I always heard about his adventures the next day, in excruciating detail, enough to make both my mouth water and at the same time curse my own rotten luck with the girls. 

He generated enough daring, risky, sex-saturated stories to fill a couple books, and I could tell you details about his girlfriends' bodies and proclivities that they never would have suspected would be revealed to anyone else. Lenny Steinholz was not someone you could trust, but he sure made up for it in the entertainment category.

Now decades later, we sat sipping our afternoon beers on the porch of his rustic northern California summerhouse, with a nice forest-shaded view of the river fifty yards away. 

I couldn't help but think about how we were still talking sex non-stop, just like the pair of horny, small-town, fourteen-year old boys we used to be, dreaming about how we might somehow be able to make life into a wet, wide-open womb waiting to indulge our pricks. He'd done far better on that measure than I.

His salt-and pepper hair looked good, receded some but not a lot. Nice casual plaid shirt, expensive shorts. His belly was out there, shoulders still broad, his legs pale and skinny, but his eyes retained the familiar glint. He didn't miss a trick, especially if the sniff of sex was anywhere near. 

I had been small but wiry, and while my middle had expanded over the years, I was still way trimmer than him. But the hair was mostly gone and all gray now and I kept it cropped short, old-guy style.

I looked at the right hand surrounding his beer glass. Those long, careful fingers had been the first ones to stroke my penis besides my own, back in those excruciating, hormone-drenched, lethally frustrating years before we Scud-drove our pricks up our first conquests. 

Back then in our small town being called a "homo" was about the biggest insult that could be hurled at another guy, but we never felt like we were in that category. We were just messing around, sexually open, perpetually aroused. 

We didn't talk about it much, Lenny always said neither of us would be touching each other's cock if there had been a girl around, although we certainly entertained many fantasies about what would have happened if that had indeed been the case - say Amanda Phelps with her long breezy blonde hair, her shirt off, lodged in between our two raging pricks. 

But he was right. We weren't attracted to guys or each other, just interested in playing with our pricks communally - "practicing" - seeing what these exquisite tools of pleasure could do, experimentally studying the whole arousal/erection/ejaculation cycle so we would be ready when "real' sex arrived, the sooner the better.

So the other guy's cock was just a placeholder, a last-choice port in a raging storm. Nonetheless, our little supercharged sessions together had still been plenty exciting and way better than masturbating our own tools to eruption, although we did a lot of that together too, watching each other spray our semen around the room, our camp tent, outdoors, wherever we were. It sure had been fun, excitedly perched as we were at the edge of our sexual event horizon.

After high school we'd gone to college at UNH, even roomed together off-campus for one year, but had drifted after that, each of us escaping our old stomping grounds as fast as we could. 

I had only recently found out he had done law school, at NYU for godssake, which amazed me since he never seemed all that bright in an intellectual sense, but of course most of our discussions over the years had basically been his prick talking, and so he was probably smarter than I imagined when his cock wasn't getting all the blood-flow that might have gone to his brain. 

He certainly had the requisite native cunning to be a lawyer. At any rate, he had gotten into financial markets and made his killing, and bailed out before everything went south around 2008 (and maybe before he got his own fingers caught in some dodgy investment cookie jar) to semi-retirement. 

His economic situation compared unfavorably with my own erratic life as a journalist, my highest position having been second reporter for a newspaper in New Jersey. I wasn't poverty stricken but made it just barely into the comfortable range, now just doing freelance stuff. 

The late-model seven-series BMW he drove had picked me up at the San Francisco airport and contrasted sharply with my well-worn Camry at home and my own marginal status.

The damn Facebook thing had brought us back into contact, and after a few months of communication, I found myself taking a cheap flight out from the east coast for a couple weeks' visit. It had been a long three-hour drive north to his hideaway, somewhere way back in the woods. 

He said he split his time between this place in California and a beachfront condo in Florida, where he liked to spend his winters. He said there was a nude beach within walking distance. You could imagine I heard about that. 

He complained he didn't like the shaved groins he saw at the beach, and we reminisced heavily about getting our hands down some girl's knickers the first time, feeling the alluring crotch hair, then smelling the intoxicating scent on our hands later, even if our adventures that night never got any further than a furtive grope.

"Thick crotch hair and bra-less tits. Man, we had no idea how good it was back then until all that was long gone. Know what happens when a shaved cunt is a week overdue?" he leveled a challenging stare at me.

Somehow I didn't want to answer, he'd obviously experienced this little event more than occasionally.

"Feels like fucking sandpaper," he snorted when I didn't respond.

"You mean 'fucking' sandpaper, or fucking 'sandpaper'?" I asked.

"Stubble rough on your prick or your lips, either one, both," he continued. "Give me a nice thick, soft, luxuriant crotch thicket with fluids all over it any day, well lubricated, spread inviting lips in the middle, smelling of sex, now you're talking." His eyes gleamed.

"Yeah, but nowadays you can see girls in thongs on beaches." For some reason I didn't want to yield completely to his nostalgia. 

"Back then they were known as 'G-strings' and you only saw them at topless bars and strip joints. Now they are all over. Ass cheeks are out there in the open to ogle in a way never possible then. Even women with short skirts will wear them now, and you can get a glimpse sometimes if you're lucky. Plus, if it's a quickie, maybe in public, you can just push the string aside and do the penetration thing. Much easier than getting panties off or out of the way." I tried to make it sound like this was a common occurrence for me. 

"True, true. Point taken, not all fashion change is bad," mused Lenny. "But halters? Remember them? Bring them back. A bare set of shoulders and some nice boobs moving around inside soft, clingy fabric? And still give me a sweet silky triangle of bush-hair, that's my idea of a good time."

"Remember Sue Jackson?" he leered. "Now there was a cunt with some serious hair."

Sue had been a large, fetching dark-haired wench with big hips and a big chest. I had heard plenty about every possible aspect of her vaginal attributes (tightness, texture, ability to absorb every pint of sperm Lenny deposited into her) after he coaxed her into a regrettably short liaison. But Lenny's short-term attention span and reckless roaming eyes always led quickly to another new conquest in those days, and they probably only coupled a dozen times.

He shook his head with the memories.

"Ever do a reverse tit-fuck?" he asked me suddenly.

"'Reverse tit-fuck?' What the hell is that?" I never knew what the guy was up to.

"With Sherry," he said, referring to who I believe was his second wife, "I loved to straddle her meaty chest and poke my cock up at her mouth while her big soft boobs made a nice valley for my plow. She'd tongue me on the upstroke and I'd either end up coming on her tits or I'd face-fuck her mouth. Come on man, I know you have done that."

"Sure, sure. I love sitting on a nice chest. Everyone I have done it with has enjoyed it. Several said it felt nice to have my penis 'mark' them, feel it rub up and down their face and boobs. But what the hell is a 'reverse tit-fuck'?"

"Okay, same scene, you just turn yourself around, so you're facing her feet. I suppose you could call it a 'cowgirl tit-fuck' if you're a stickler for terminology. You ride her tits, which she holds together, and you can cram your balls into her mouth to get suckled for some variety while she plays with your rod. Sherry loved mouthing my nuts. That alone almost made living with her for those years worthwhile." 

It was not hard imagining him doing this. I had obviously never met Sherry, but he had described her as having wide dreamy eyes and a big chest that throbbed with sensuality. Of course her boobs attracted no end of male interest, and oddly enough, since they were basically the reason Lenny married her, they ended up being the cause of their split up. 

Turned out she liked tit-fucking enough to do it with more than the one guy she was married to. It wasn't as if Lenny had been Captain Commitment himself, but like a lot of guys I know, he had a double-standard and he got bent out of shape when he found out someone else's sperm had been glazing her chest. 

They apparently had parted with a ferocity that still reverberated, so it made his fond reminisces of their little sexual adventures all the more surprising. 

" 'Course a reverse tit-fuck can turn into a sixty-nine, and we did that plenty too, my tongue buried in her furry, aromatic crotch while she drained my balls with her mouth on my pumping cock," he mused. 

"Sometimes it was just an appetizer, but mostly it was fun just to plow her chest while I straddled her and looked at her gorgeous crotch, get my balls sucked, and then I'd hump a load of semen out between her boobs onto her belly." 

"Fifteen more minutes of playing with her and I'd be fucking hard again and I would be back on top of her, missionary, my sperm squishing around between us. We'd have ourselves a nice leisurely second course." 

He gazed off in the distance with a smile I couldn't quite identify.

This always had amazed me too. He had the ability to get hard again almost immediately after ejaculating. Even as teenagers fooling around together, he could jerk off two or three times in succession, while I was always done in by one.

"One night I reverse tit-fucked her, emptied a sticky good load out onto her stomach, and then plugged her belly to belly, straight away, sperm squishing all over the place and she came twice. Then before knocking off for sleep and after I pissed, she sucked me off again just on principle. Ha! Three times in an hour! Those were the days."

The memories had been powerful enough that he had pulled his prick out from his shorts and was pulling on it while it pointed straight up. His formerly dark crotch hair was now speckled with gray, but it was the same pointy prickhead I remembered. Lord knows how many times it had spewed forth in the forty-some years since I had first seen him ejaculate. 

"So what do you do up here in the hinterlands for jollies then?" 

I knew after three marriages, the last of which ended five years previous, as Sherry had been the second, he had vowed never again, but I also knew he was not the kind of guy who would be spending the rest of his days wanking off on his back porch with a view of the river. 

"You got a girl in town, or someone who visits?"

"Even better," he said, running his fingers over his prick with a wild prankster grin. "Got a troop."

I sputtered a mouthful of beer out.

"What? A 'troop?' What the hell does that mean?"

He smiled and his his dark eyes twinkled. "You'll meet 'em tomorrow, or at least some of them. I got a little plan hatched for us." 

It turned out there was some tribe of young back-to-nature types up the road, a half-dozen year-round, maybe up to twenty of them in the summer when college was out, and Lenny had come into some understanding with them. They were camping out in some tents and an abandoned barn nearby and lived pretty close to the land. 

They would come by his place and take showers when the river wasn't warm enough to bathe in, do laundry sometimes and some other chores harder to handle in their primitive headquarters, and it sounded like they would even look in on his place while he was away in the winter. In return they were up for various sexual escapades. 

Lenny indicated he had helped them out financially at times and performed enough other favors that they regarded a little public sexual activity every once in awhile as a trifling compensation. He subsidized regular visits to the local clinic for them, "so I know they're clean," he said with a smirk. 

I asked a million questions about the details but he waved them off. "You'll meet them tomorrow. Here, let me show you something."

He stood up, prick still stiff, and pulled off the rest of his clothes. "Best part about summer in rural California is you can go buck naked whenever you want. No bugs, the air is warm and comfortable, sure as hell not like New Hampshire," he said with a snort and padded into the house, his prick bobbing up and down. 

He returned with a scrapbook of photos. I gave a start since I remembered he kept a scrapbook in high school of his conquests, but this was a different one.

"This is all Sherry," he said.

Sure enough, there were some old photos, looked like maybe twenty years ago, of him straddling Sherry's over-sized chest, and pumping his prick up and down her sternum, some with his cockhead engulfed in her mouth, a bunch of views with each of her big tits flopped out to the side. He must have had a tripod and a timer or something with his camera next to the bed in those pre-digital days.

"Look at this one," he said proudly. It was a massive load of sperm on the valley between Sherry's big breasts after she had sucked him off or jerked him, a drip of semen having dribbled down and was hanging off her right nipple. He had to have pushed his camera up close for that one. 

My own cock was hard now too, and I was startled to have Lenny lean over and give it a rub through my shorts. 

"Take your clothes off, fella," he said. "Let's see the old organ."

I was sitting on one of his Adirondack chairs and figured what the hell, so started to pull my khakis off, my erection popping free into the afternoon air. 

"Remember the first time you sucked me?" he asked, gazing at my erect cock, eyebrows twitching with amusement.

"Of course, how could I forget?" I winced. I sure lost that bet, but that's another story.

Despite the near coercion of it, I had enjoyed it more than I ever had wanted to acknowledge.

"Yeah," I went on, "and you said you'd return the favor sometime, and of course you never did." 

"All those years," I shook my head. 

I had sucked him off plenty of times in adolescence and then even in college, usually when we had returned empty handed from some off-campus bar, luckless with the girls but all worked up with a pressurized load of sperm inside us and needing some relief. 

He'd get that gleam in his eye and I knew I would end up with his cock in my mouth again. I could tell you almost as much about his prick as my own. For some reason he always finished by spurting his sperm into my mouth, and while it was technically true that he had indeed sucked me, it had always been just to make me hard, never to climax. He would generally just get me off with his hands after I had pleasured him or just watch eagle-eyed while I did myself.

He moved forward, pushing his prickhead at me. 

"Hey, go away with that thing," I said, playfully batting it aside. 

Like I said, except for the half-gray groin hair, his cock didn't look any different from before. If you are going to have something on you look youthful, I suppose it might as well be your penis. 

He banged his engorged cockhead into my face again and laughed. 

"Come on down to my set-up by the river," he said, "you'll get a kick out this."

He turned and walked bare-assed down the trail to the river, where there was a clearing. I followed, and he showed me a little raised wooden platform he'd built, which had a few chairs, one of them a lounger which reclined, a bench and table, and a few beach towels. If one were up for sunbathing, it would have been a perfect arrangement. 

Then I noticed a tripod on the edge of the platform with a fairly expensive looking Canon on it. It wasn't pointed towards the river or anywhere you might have thought would make for outdoor wilderness photography but rather at the reclining chair. 

"What's your gear for?" I asked.

"Remember I mentioned the troop?"

"Yep." 

"Sometimes when they come over, they'll put on nice little show for me, sort of an appetizer for the afternoon of sex we have arranged. Couple of them will fuck here," pointing at the reclining chair. 

"I like taking some snapshots. Here, take a look at this." He pulled the camera off the tripod, powered it up and gave it to me. 

"Scroll through the last couple dozen shots there, you'll see what I mean."

Sure enough he had captured a couple of hippie types, a tall guy with dreadlocks and a long snake-like dick and a zaftig dark-haired wench, doing various lewd things to each other. 

The photos were dated from the week previous, so they were recent. The screen was small and a little hard to see in the bright sunlight, but you could tell Lenny had gotten some good up-close shots, one a rear view of the guy with his prick buried up her cunt, with his balls squashing into her thick dark-haired groin. 

Judging from the strained look of his ass-cheeks, he must have been tailing her pretty hard. Another shot had her lips around the head of his prick which looked like a long, skinny snake of a cock. 

The girl was dark-haired, round of body, with great long, side-slinging tits. Damn, made my own cock twitch. Lenny laughed. 

"We should get some good pics tomorrow and have ourselves a good time. They'll be over by noon or so, although punctuality is never one of their strong suits."

"They don't mind the photos?" I asked. "Do you post these somewhere?"

"Only very selectively," he said, "and no, they don't. In fact they don't mind a little bit of fame themselves. The photos have gotten a couple of them some paid photography shoots which helps their balance sheet, and I let them do whatever they want with the pics. For lots of folks you take your fame and money any way you can get it."

We had the damnedest afternoon. Our cocks were hard with all the talk about sex, and we ended up amusing ourselves taking snapshot after snapshot of each other's prick in various stages of stiffness, trying, but not succeeding very well, in some art shots and unusual positions, scrotum close-ups and whatnot. 


Riverside Lust Ch. 02



Summer evening in rural Northern California, the evening after our afternoon's adventures down near the river.

*****

We had a good leisurely dinner in the cabin, the four of us, everyone talking all over the map. My groin had that warm suffusing glow that comes after a good climax, in this case two of them that afternoon. Lenny's voice was animated, he told story after story, his eyes gleaming whenever anything erotic was involved. 

Otter and Rothgard listened attentively when Lenny talked, half smiles on their faces, I couldn't tell if they were believing everything Lenny said but the stories were mostly true. 

I wondered what it was like for these hippie castaways to be dinner companions for a couple old codger wank-off buddies like Lenny and I. Otter's green eyes met Rothgard's frequently, and when they laughed over some Lenny witticism, Rothgard's long tied-back dreadlocks shook. 

I am sure they considered Lenny an absolutely unreconstructed pervert, which of course he was, but it's possible they saw him in a different light. The food was good and satisfying, the wine had loosened his lips, he was playing emperor and enjoying it all. His broad German-ancestry face and dark eyes swivelled about the table, making sure we got all the details of his exploits over the years, boasts of the places his cock had visited, the pleasure given it by others, its enduring prowess. 

I was just along for the ride, an old friend, and I mostly just listened and watched the others. I think I glimpsed Otter give Rothgard's prick a furtive rub under the table once, but I may be mistaken.

But after the brandy and dessert, we all stood up, tall slender Rothgard with his arm around Otter, a full head shorter. 

We retired earlier than otherwise might have been the case, all of us fatigued from our afternoon exertions and then the copious food and drink. It had been quite the day. I wished River was still around, and still couldn't quite believe my luck in coupling outdoors with her earlier. 

Otter and Rothgard said they were too beat to head back to their commune, and the truth was Rothgard, almost unsteady on his feet, had had quite a bit to drink. Lenny lent them a double sleeping bag and pad and they settled themselves outside on the porch of his summer cabin. 

I found my way to the guest room, glad to find a little quiet place to sort out the day's events in my head, Lenny to his big room in front. By ten we were all asleep, or at least all the lights were off.

I woke after only a few restless hours of sleep. The moon was up and casting a fair blue light around the room. My mind was racing away, reliving all the sexual adventures we had had that day, tailing River and witnessing my old bud get his rocks off with a couple wenches a third his age. 

Watching him dump a good load of semen out on River's chest had been enthralling, the image of his cock pulsing, the white spermy ooze emerging from his prickhead, still a testament to his own potency. 

I had to urinate and walked through the living room to get to the toilet. The moonlight coming through the windows was bright enough that I didn't need to turn on any lights. On the way back I stopped to look out the large back window, intrigued by the moonlight streaming through the forest surrounding the cabin, and noticed Rothgard was up too. 

He was standing on the edge of the porch, and pissing a great stream of urine out over the backyard. He'd had a pile to drink at dinner. 

The geyser went on for some time. I made a mental note not to walk barefoot in the backyard tomorrow, but the sight was strangely alluring, and I moved to the side of the window to both see him a little better and be hidden a bit by the curtains in case he turned and looked back at the house. 

He finally finished and flicked the head of his cock out to send the last drip away from the porch. He turned around and the moonlight illuminated his long wagging prick. He came back towards the sleeping bag, but Otter had apparently awakened with him. 

As he stood there, she reached up and began to fondle the great snake. All I saw was her hands, a bit disembodied, as she reached up and stroked it. 

With the stimulation Rothgard's dick went from long and skinny to long and hard, a dark curved outline against the background moonlight. Otter's fingers traced his shaft, caressed his prickhead, rubbing, coaxing it along. 

And then she had raised herself up on her knees, and took his prick into her sweet little mouth. Mostly it was a silhouette view, I desperately wanted a little more light, but the movements of her head made it clear what she was doing. I held my breath, it looked so nice.

She slid her fingers up and down his shaft, Rothgard standing there with his hands on his hips. He reached down to fondle a nipple, and after a bit they they ended up back in their sleeping bag. 

I didn't see much from then on, not as much as I wanted, but it was obvious enough when he had begun to hump her serious, the cover of the sleeping bag thrashing around over them. 

Otter's little moans of pleasure increased as they went, very alluring actually, as he tailed her for quite awhile. I held my breath as she came. 

"Ohh, ahh," she went, and then Rothgard's thrusts grew rapid and frantic and then they were still. 

I lingered at the window after they finished, until I heard Rothgard's breath in sleep mode, long and sonorous. My penis had grown half-hard with the viewing, and I felt my now sensitive cockhead pressing against my boxers. 

I turned back to my room. The light from underneath Lenny's door caught my eye, so it appeared that he was awake as well. I padded over and knocked softly. He opened, clean naked, his prick in a fairly erect condition, sticking out from under his belly.

"What's up?" he said.

"Just witnessed our guests fornicate out on the porch," I volunteered in a hushed voice. "More heard them than saw them, but it still was a nice little show."

Lenny smiled broadly. "Nice to be young, eh? He's got a good dick for poking, that's for sure. Don't think she minds, either."

I was looking at his penis, stiff, engorged, standing out straight in front of him. It looked nice. I swallowed hard. 

On all the surveys I had filled out over the years, I had always ticked the box labelled "heterosexual." I once had been married, for over ten years in fact, and whenever I went to the beach, my eyes gravitated towards breasts moving around underneath bikini tops, or female ass-cheeks from behind while their owners strutted along the sand. Long silky hair, an intriguing feminine face, these all had gravitational attraction for me. 

But there is something riveting about an erect penis. And here was the first one I had ever known, besides my own, nearly within reach of my hands. It looked beautiful.

He noted my gaze and paused. 

"C'mon in, take a look at this," gesturing at his computer at the corner of his room. "You'll see why I'm hard."

We crossed his room to his desktop. 

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Figured I'd download the photostream from the last couple days, wanted to see how the lot came out. Take a look, some pretty good shots." He scrolled down and pulled up a photo on the monitor. "Recognize this?" he said with a leer.

"Looks like my scrotum all right." I squinted closely. "And that is River's pudenda around my prick." 

Lenny couldn't have gotten his lens much closer, the image was huge on his big monitor. 

"You were giving it to her pretty good," he said. "She's got a great crotch."

I quivered as I stared at the picture, that moment sure had been sweet.

Lenny scrolled through the photostream, including our previous afternoon shots with each of us photographing each other's cock, lots of erect penises with swollen veins, engorged cockheads, from all sorts of angles and focal points. Some of them, to say the truth, were pretty good shots, if you like erection pics. And I do. 

We hadn't taken many full body shots of each other, perhaps unconsciously avoiding paunches and gray hair, they were mostly just close-up groins, balls, erections, and since you couldn't see the rest of our bodies, they could have come from folks a lot younger than us. 

Lenny saw the expression on my face and laughed. Looking me straight in the eye, he reached out and began to stroke my penis through my night-time boxers. 

"Not bad for a couple old coots, eh?" he said. "We each got ourselves two good climaxes this afternoon." 

His fingers were insistent, running under my balls, gliding lightly over my cockhead through the smooth fabric. I swallowed hard and found my fingers reaching out and fondling his tool as well. Smooth shaft, pointy circumcised head, nice heavy balls. Just like I remembered them.

We spent a few minutes feeling each other, our hands gliding, fingers exploring, until Lenny let go and arched his eyebrows.

"Pull your knickers off and take a seat at the head of the bed maybe?" he asked.

We sat next to each other, our backs on the headboard, each of us fingering our own pricks, and Lenny started reminiscing. 

"All those nights in the tent in my backyard? When we'd talk sex far into the night? We'd talk about which girls we wanted to fuck, and what we would do with them."

"And what they would do to us," I said wistfully. Lenny laughed at this. 

"You had a better imagination than I," he said, "always called up a scene with some girl's shirt off and her lips over your cock."

"While you played with your tool," he added.

"But you always did better in real life," I returned. "I think when we were fourteen our cocks were hard about eighty percent of the time." Lenny laughed.

"You always came quick in our little circle jerk sessions," he commented. "And we worked so hard to try to stay erect, prolong the climax as long as possible."

"I get excited real easy. And your prick was always better," I said. "Lasted longer, made more sperm." 

We had had lots of contests. 

My memories of touching his penis for the first time were extraordinarily vivid. I remembered how my fingers trembled with excitement before contacting his smooth, stiff cock, which twitched with the first contact, and then how much fun it was to stroke Lenny to climax. The image of his sperm jetting forth that first time, all due to my own efforts, was seared in my mind. 

"And you could come twice in an evening." I said this with envy, although that often meant more enjoyment for me, as well.

"Still can," he said evenly. 

"Yeah, you came twice today already. That's plenty at our age."

"Well, so did you," he rejoined.

Lenny looked at me while he stroked his penis. It was standing straight up, its head reddish-purple, and pointed. There was challenge in his eye.

"Bet I can come twice again tonight," he said. 

I knew better than to try to wager with him, but I still doubted that and told him so. 

He looked at me hard. "Tell you what. Let's have you do me, just like the old days, then I will do you. And I will still be good for one more."

His eyes met mine. "You game?"

His cock was twitching with anticipation, sure looked nice. My own tool felt good in my hands too. I swallowed hard. I wanted to do this, but also didn't. How can you want two conflicting things at the same time?

Back as teenagers we were just plain horny, we couldn't help it. Now it was different. I should just be satisfied that my penis had had its workout with a couple barely legal girls only just that afternoon. 

But then again my whole visit here had been absolutely sex-saturated. I would not have predicted that my penis would have been this aroused, this long, exercised so thoroughly with this trip out to stay with my old friend. 

Lenny apparently wasn't going to wait for me to make up my mind. He got to his knees and pushed his cock towards my face. Its head was right in front of me and I was going to have to turn my head away if I didn't want it hitting me square on. 

Instead I found myself opening my mouth and closing my eyes. I felt the smooth pointy head of his prick penetrate my lips, and my tongue began to slide along its firm surface. 

For me, having a penis in my mouth is an extraordinary adventure, not quite like anything else. I wish I had experienced this more often in my life. I could feel how hard he was, the swollen pressure on the skin of his cock, and I knew that by sliding my lips along his shaft and tonguing his cockhead, I was in a situation that could produce astonishing pleasure for my old friend. 

I was also trying not to think how much enjoyment I would get out of sucking him as well.

Eyes still closed, I reached under his ballsack and held his nuts in my hand. They were way up in their sack, all firm and moving about restlessly. I knew that if I wanted, I could have Lenny climaxing fairly quickly, he was that aroused. 

At the same time, I wanted my own pleasure with his penis to continue. I sucked him for a few minutes, luxuriating in the movement his cock made in my mouth, feeling the tension and firmness of his member as it slid around.

Then I turned him over onto his back, and had him spread his legs wide. 

His penis was laid out full and erect on his belly. That big tube that runs along the center-line of his shaft and handles the sperm launch was taut, very prominent in his penis especially, and felt nice as my fingers traced its outline, stem to stern. My fingers pressed here and there, feeling his veins, the sharp ridge under his circumcised head, that sweet inverted "V" up near his piss-slit. 

I let go of it and just looked at it. It twitched on its own, its head glistening after I had smeared my saliva around it. So engorged, so hard, it held itself parallel to his torso, so stiff that the head hovered about an inch above his belly, ready for business. Lenny looked down at it with the pride-smile of ownership and squeezed his asscheeks, making it bob. We laughed.

I marvelled at its shape, and ran my fingers lightly along his cockhead. As I remembered, it had taken on a reddish-purple color when aroused. Its pointy head started to ooze clear fluid as I caressed it with my fingertips, and I carefully smeared the drop of lubrication around his cockhead. I wagged his prick back and forth, played with it in all sorts of ways, pulled it up and let it snap back down on his torso, never tiring of its shape, its movement, its exquisite hardness. 

"Lick my balls," Lenny finally said in a low urgent voice. "Take them in your mouth." 

We had discovered this very early on in our teenaged experiments, just how much pleasure could be had from stimulating your testicles while your rod stayed hard. I knew very well what Lenny liked. Or used to like, anyway.

Lenny's balls were handsome firm ones. They were the kind that drew up into one tight mass in their sack, his hairy wrinkled scrotum holding them like shrink-wrap, all tight and restrained. 

I licked them. I sucked them. I nursed at them. I ran my fingers around his scrotum, fingernails scraping the inside of his thighs. When I felt his hips squirm when I hit a good spot I was pleased. My own cock was way too hard, almost uncomfortable.

I licked his perineum, revelling in the pressure it provided against my tongue. The thick smell of his balls filled my nose, my tongue tasting his salty groin sweat.

I spent a good amount of time mouthing his testicles, but when his hip movements had become so frequent and it was apparent he was having a hard time restraining them, I moved alongside the big body of my old friend and took his cockhead into my mouth again. 

Slowly I went up and down. The veins on his prickshaft were pronounced, I could see them clearly when my eyes were open, and feel them when my tongue went wetly along the surface of his shaft. I was pleased to feel his balls moving around in the grip of my left hand. I massaged his perineum, taking just his prickhead in my mouth for some rapid up and down action. 

Never doing the same thing for very long, changing tempo, always something new, I sucked and licked until I felt his legs were board stiff, his cockhead just a bit larger and firmer than even just a moment before. 

Lips moving quickly, sensing his mounting excitement, I went up and down his shaft, sloppy, eager and wetly, and with a strangled cry Lenny bucked his hips and I felt the first spurt of sperm erupt in my mouth. Pulse, pulse, pulse his cock went - warm thick fluid kept coming. Eyes closed, my hand clenching his balls, I swallowed and continued to move my lips over his penis until he was done.

I milked the last bit out of him, savoring the ooze, and nursed at the head of his prick for another few minutes. His cockhead got smaller fairly quickly, then the pressure on his shaft slowly dropped, but I liked the way his cockhead felt as my lips and tongue rolled over it. 

Finally he pulled away, unable to stand any more contact, however gentle. My heart was racing, my cock twitching with the sympathetic pleasure I had produced for my friend. 

I didn't want to open my eyes. I wasn't sure what sort of expression Lenny was going to have on his face. I couldn't quite get over how excited I was myself from my lingual attentions to him.

But when I did pull off he was smiling. 

"Nice work," he uttered in a low voice. "Felt good." 

He stood up, his prick dangling, soft and wet. He gave me a look. 

"Give me a sec in the washroom," he said. "Then it's your turn." He looked at my very hard penis.

"Lie down," he urged, "I'll be right back."

I laid myself out full length on the bed. Probably a bed that had gotten a pile of action since Lenny had moved in to this rustic California country house.

My brain whirled, replaying the sensations of sucking my old friend. What was he planning for me? What sorts of things might he do?

When Lenny returned, I saw he had cleaned and dried his crotch. He eyed my body laid out. 

"You've stayed in good shape," he finally said, kneeling between my legs, a hand running along my bunchy thighs.

He ran his fingers along my cock. I started at the first touch. He used both hands, alternating, fingers pulling on my cockhead, caressing very gently along the ridge of my prickhead. He pulled on my balls, pressed my perineum, stroked my shaft. I was struck by how soft his fingers felt. 

I closed my eyes and just focused on the nerve endings going off in my cock. 

I didn't last long. He was pretty good, surprisingly gentle. He never used his mouth, never licked me anywhere, but his fingers kept moving. Sweet fingertips traced the edge of my cockhead. He squeezed my shaft, pulled up on my cockhead, pressed, pulled, made my prick anticipate every touch. It was divine. 

I liked how he attended to my balls, held them, rolled them around in his fingers. I was getting close, my hips squirming around when I felt him leave off touching me completely. 

I opened my eyes to see Lenny rummaging in a bedside drawer and finally pulling out a little bullet shaped vibrator., about the length of a finger. He had an evil look on his face. 

"Close your eyes, big guy, I am going to give you a good time."

I complied and felt his fingers start to stroke my penis again. The vibrator got switched on, a low hum, and I felt its rounded end pushing up against my anus. 

Fingers still working my raging cockhead, he pushed the vibrator around the edges of my anus, kept pressing it at the entrance until I finally felt it penetrate. 

Fingers working quickly now on my penis, he pushed the vibrator up further, me feeling like I was going to expel a hard mass of excrement. He rotated it around, touching some very sensitive areas, fingers flying up and down my cock now, and I felt my balls contract. 

My hips went off, I found myself yelling out, "Fuck, yes!" and spurt after spurt of semen got launched up on my belly. I opened my eyes at the end, watching the last bits of sperm come oozing out, Lenny working the vibrator like a madman, fingers of his other hand on my shaft, avoiding my semen. 




Riverside Lust Ch. 02



Slowly my erection diminished, and I couldn't take any more contact. Lenny clicked off the vibrator and removed it, a very pleased expression on his face.

"Good load man," he commented, looking at the puddle of sperm on my belly. I was thoroughly spent. 

I stood up, my turn to get cleaned up. I noticed his own cock was hard, sticking out nearly horizontal. He was serious, it looked like he was going to be able to come again.

I peed a long stream into the toilet, looking down at my soggy cock. I tried to remember the last time I had climaxed three times in a day, and couldn't do it. I could also not quite believe that my old buddy, Mr. Potent, was going for four.

When I came back into the bedroom, Lenny was sprawled out on his back. His cock had drooped a little, and was lying along his thigh. The smirk on his face was vintage Lenny.

I sat down next to him and looked him in the eye. He looked back evenly, as I began to toy with his cock, just wagging it around, waving it half-hard in the air.

It is so odd how a prick has a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde life. Most of the time, unless you are a teen-aged male, it is loose and floppy, for all appearances just a little garden hose of an emptying device attached to the confluence of your legs and torso. To me, a limp prick isn't even that handsome, except that perhaps you notice the balls more, those two sturdy accompanying soldiers in the background. 

But once the blood starts to flow into the ballast tanks, and the brute begins its ascent, a cock turns into its wilful, determined self, and its beauty emerges and it becomes irresistible.

I laughed silently at this last thought, since of course my own raging penis had been resisted many a time in life, not just in my adolescent years. Pushed away, accessed refused, gates closed to its penetrating desire. Yet I also knew its power, how your partner would notice it when your desire was obvious - impossible to ignore, really. 

Lenny's penis was so soft in my hands. I found myself looking at it, rather than Lenny now, and stroking its soft rubbery head, running my fingers along his shaft, only just starting to firm up. 

I loved the next stage for Lenny's erection however, the gradual shift in his cock's character from loose and limp, to hard and ready. I saw Lenny smile out of the corner of my eyes, while I played with his prick, and he watched intently as it stiffened until it was laying out full and erect, head pointing towards his face. 

It was stiff enough to hold its pressure, when you tweaked it up or down, side to side, it would return with a throb to its own place, hovering an inch above his torso, twitching, all nerve-endings awake. 

I traced my fingers along his central tube-vein, pressing down and closing its channel just for fun, feeling its resistance to pressure, then circled, ever so slowly, the exquisite sensitive ridgeline along the head. 

The beast was alive now, ready to be prodded and loved. I stroked his balls. I stroked his shaft, very slowly, bottom to top, pushing my thumb along his cockhead. I luxuriated in its smooth velvety feel.

But at the first involuntary hip-quiver from him, I stopped. 

We both knew, from our long-ago experiments, how nice it was to prolong things, do the "cycle" as we used to call it. I ceased all movements except for stroking his inner thighs, and we watched as the great penis began to subside. I looked at it from every angle, even got up to turn off the room lights, just to see it in the eerie moonlight. 

Lenny was looking at me, I think wondering how I was going to proceed. I half expected him to tell me what he wanted me to do, but it appeared that this would be my deal. 

When he had softened a fair amount, I began again to play. Very gentle, just little, teasing caresses with my fingertips to his cockhead. Slow, long rubs to his shaft. Rummaging his balls, pressing against his perineum. 

In ten minutes he was rock-hard again, hips moving around, and I left off all touching. 

I repeated the stimulation/rest cycle maybe five times. Each time it took less attention to get steely hard, and longer to subside. Lenny's face was getting tense, his breathing shallow and rapid, but I daresay he was enjoying the sight of his great tool in the dim light. As well as feeling the pressure reserves of pleasure building up in him.

I had him stand by the side of the bed, and we watched his cock slowly drop, until it was about forty-five degrees, still full, but much softer. I sat at the edge of the bed, his cock about eye-height, and began to feel his balls, running my fingers under them, coaxing, squeezing, still staying very light and teasing with my motions. Without even touching the rest of his prick, in a few minutes it was hard again, pointing very rigidly upward. I liked this.

The first little drop of lubricant appeared at the top of his slit, I slowly ran one finger over it and along his cockhead. 

I licked up and down his shaft, going way too slow for his pleasure. I could see and feel his cock quiver with each touch. I tasted his sweet-salty oozing tip.

We waited again for it to droop, which took longer this time. I looked at it from a pile of different directions, underneath, from the side. I was on my knees now, and wanted him in my mouth. I decided this next round would be no hands, and I even put them behind me so I wouldn't be tempted to stroke him.

The next few minutes were intoxicating. Lenny moved his hips forward and dangled his cockhead into my mouth. I licked, I used the tip of my tongue, I went around the edge, then let just the head, nothing else, rest in my mouth, making just the slightest teasing movements with my lips. I could feel it get harder, and let my lips slowly cup the edge, tongue the frenulum, apply suction. I let it droop out of my mouth at times, and let it run along my cheeks and nose, then would nuzzle his balls. 

I felt like I was nursing at the fountain of pleasure, and in an odd way, it wasn't Lenny's cock any more, but the Universal Phallus. I licked. I caressed with my tongue. I made it grow. 

It really probably wasn't much more than a few minutes and it was too hard to dangle into my mouth anymore, its head pointing towards the ceiling.

So I nuzzled his nuts for a bit longer, my nose in his earthy groin hair, until his prick began its slow descent. I decided this would be its last droop cycle, I wanted to finish him off.

I thought for a moment, then figured out what I wanted. I lay back down on the bed, my head on the pillows, and gestured Lenny over. He got the idea immediately and crawled up over me on all fours, to drop his prickhead into my mouth again. 

I loved the look of it approaching my face in the moonlight, its head getting larger and larger until it penetrated my lips. My hunger for it was great now, there was no longer a need to postpone the pleasure. I sucked at his cockhead for all I was worth, one hand fondling his balls, all drawn up and very tight. I felt his cock get hard again, then that steel-like stiffness that comes just before a climax. I sucked. I ran my lips up and down his shaft.

Then Lenny took me by surprise and grabbed the headboard with his hands, his hips thrusting powerfully into me. 

I got a hold of the base of his prick with one hand and managed to control how deeply he went into my mouth. His thrusts increased in frequency, I could hear him breathing hard, long low-pitched primal sounds coming from his throat. 

His hips were moving forcefully, and his cock was going in and out at a good clip. I had a grip on his balls and could feel them behind his prick, pushing hard, in and out. I gave suction on the out-stroke, licked the underside of his cock on the intake, and managed to get a good slip of my lips over his cockhead's ridge every time I could. 

A final frantic thrust, I could anticipate it arriving, and the beast pulsed with the first spurt of sperm. 

"Ahh!" he grunted. "Uraghhh." He kept thrusting, differently now, almost helplessly, little quivering motions from his hips, I had a hand on one of his asscheeks so could feel them clenching as he sent his sperm home. I didn't expect that much sperm this time, and the quantity was definitely less and thinner in feel, but the pulses were strong. I revelled in the twitching his cock did in my mouth.

After a half dozen final thrusts, he grew still, my mouth full of warm, slippery fluid. 

I let my mouth and tongue linger, very gently, at his prickhead. Felt so good to let my lips slide over that rapidly softening tip of his cock. I was sorry when he pulled out, but knew he could handle no more contact. I looked at it in front of me, long, but drooping, and shrinking before my eyes, head first, all wet and glistening in the moonlight, then softening, and Lenny got up.

Lenny looked me in the eye. 

"Fucking nice," he said and paused. "I am fucking beat." 

He did look exhausted.

I got up slowly, and we stood facing each other. He looked at my cock, which had gotten half hard again, surprisingly enough, in my excitement at tonguing him.

I shook my head, although I am not sure he was offering.

"Time to turn in," I muttered, my brain whirling. "See you in the morning." 

"You suck a mean cock," he said. I think I noted admiration in his tone. 

He surprised me by giving me a hug, something he rarely did, and patted my ass on the way out.

"Get your rest old friend," he said with gleaming eyes. "Get your rest."



Riverside Lust



I was aroused enough that I was tempted to suggest we stroke each other off like we had so many times before, but without knowing exactly what was in store tomorrow with his "troop," I also felt the need to conserve my strength. Four climaxes in a weekend was not excessive as a college student, but these days that would have been more than half my typical monthly output. 

I kept eyeing his erect cock, still vibrant looking. I found myself anxious to see it in action tomorrow. It was sticking out strong, stiff looking, its head pointy and aroused.

I felt my balls churning away. I was hoping they were preparing more than a single spermload for the morrow. I was confident of one, at least, but knew very well that a pile of other factors would come into play for any more than that: the situation, the diminished recovery time that came with the damned business of aging, other aspects that were out of my control. 

"Stay strong," I whispered under my breath, looking at that bobbing, engorged cockhead of mine, feeling the afternoon breeze in my groin hairs.

We had a light dinner, some salmon and salad, out on the porch, and turned in early.

The tribe came by a little after noon. There were three of them, a tallish male, the guy I had seen with the long dick in the photos, and a couple feral looking girls, probably all early twenties in age. 

They all wore drawstring pants in thin earth-toned colored cotton, and the girls had on loose cotton tunics on top. The guy was shirtless, with long slender arms. I was pleased to see the dark-haired round wench from the copulation pics Lenny had showed the day before. She had long, thick, unmanageable hair and of course was barefoot. 

Her name was River, and she had breasts that moved around delightfully under her tunic. I was guessing anything resembling a bra was but a distant memory for her. She had dark lively eyes and a saucy smile.

"Nice to meet you!" she said while shaking my hand, her eyes shooting a look over at my old bud, who was leering at us. "Lenny's told me so much about you, it's good to have you visit."

I wondered what Lenny had said. 

She could have been my daughter, the years were great enough between us. I tried to convince myself that it was impossible for her to be young enough to be my grand-daughter and was almost successful. She had a wide, open face, really a very sweet demeanor, but I couldn't help pulling up in my head the photos Lenny had shown me yesterday, of her lips around the tall guy's prick, and her groin being penetrated. This was the same girl, in the flesh, right in front of me. 

The other wench, Otter, was smaller and slender, with crooked teeth but darting green eyes and short curly brown hair. Her top was sleeveless, and you could see her light-brown underarm hair poking out while we stood there doing introductions. Her chest was as flat as River's was large. 

The guy, who went by the name of Rothgard, had long dreadlocks pulled back. He was tall and slight, but looked like he was stronger than his build suggested. Couple of regulation earrings in his earlobes, and a large, hard-to-miss silver ring hung from his nose, and he had a sparse, wild-looking beard. 

In conversation River said she had grown up further north and had attended Chico State for a little over a year. "It wasn't that great," she said with a shrug. "Classes not that interesting, couldn't make up my mind for a major. Psych? Health services? Harvest time came along early in my second year and I just bailed. Left to make some easy money and ended up here." I didn't need much imagination to guess what sort of "harvest" she was talking about.

"But we don't need much money here anyway, and it is much better to live outdoors and not be cooped up inside some walls and whatnot," she gestured at the river and forest, her breasts moving in a breathtaking manner inside her cotton upper-garment. Her smile was open, easy. 

"Your friend is an interesting guy," she said to me, a bit enigmatically, while Lenny was talking with Otter and Rothgard at the edge of the porch. "We've had some good times since he moved up here."

She was looking in his direction but I wasn't sure whether her eyes were on him, his crotch, or Lenny's whole platform set-up visible behind him down the hill. Lenny had been vague to me on the specifics of his little sexual dalliances with the crew, aside from the photography aspect, but I had a feeling his cock had been up River more than once. 

Rothgard was much less talkative, not so much hostile or reserved, just quiet. His eyes were liquid, brown and alert. He said he did construction from time to time.

"He's pretty good with a hammer and a wrecking bar," said Otter, eyes twinkling. Her shoulders were very slight, and her nose was small and sharp, pixie-like. Her face had an eager, challenging look to it that suggested that she was the type who would be up for trying anything, at least once. 

We talked for a bit and went down to the platform, where Lenny had arranged some food and drink. They were happy to see some tequila out, as Lenny had remarked to me earlier that it was a luxury amongst the crew, and they poured themselves glasses of it with some lime slices and mixed with some sort of organic ginger ale or beer that Lenny had obviously known they liked. By half an hour's time we were happily chatting away, comfortable and relaxed. 

I was just starting to wonder how we would all end up moving into a more sexual mood when River turned suddenly next to the drink table and managed to knock a spoon off the table top. When she stooped to retrieve it, I got a long lovely look at her dangling left breast through the opening of her tunic which had billowed out when she bent over. 

She must have seen my gaze since she came up with a sultry little smile directed my way. She took a step backwards until she was next to Lenny. All the while looking at me, a playful wanton smile on her face, she placed her right hand on his crotch and began a slow little teasing rub to his prick. 

Lenny in his turn, reached around her and began fondling one of her nipples through the thin cotton fabric of her blouse. They looked at each other and exchanged a little affectionate kiss. I could see his prick was stiffening now in his shorts, pointing off to one side. 

She stepped back, and ever so languorously removed her top, breasts swaying out to the sides. They had heft to their ends, what we used to call "torpedo tits" in our ever-so-cultured high-school days, and had wonderful dark circles around her nipples. They were glorious smooth and white.

She knelt carefully in front of Lenny, and just as slowly and methodically pulled down his shorts, letting him step out of each pantleg when the shorts had made their way to the ground. His prick was pointing out at her, at about a forty-five degree angle. 

She looked intently at it for a moment, and give it a light kiss, before taking his prickhead into her mouth for a short, soft tongue caress. Cockhead now moistened, she knelt down further and licked underneath his shaft and nuzzled his balls. 

I looked over at the other two. Rothgard had his arm around Otter's shoulder and they both were looking intently at River, amused smiles on their faces.

But shortly River's mouth was back over my friend's prick, her hands holding and kneading his balls, and she worked him over. All this was done with a delicacy and refinement that I scarcely would have expected out of the wench. 

Of course we were all riveted by the sight, and I could see the bulge of Rothgard's dick underneath his drawstring pants. Like Lenny he apparently had on no underwear to restrict his cock's movement. 

Piece by piece, the clothes came off of everyone while we were standing there in the warm sun, until the only one left with anything on at all was River, who was still wearing her cotton bottoms while she knelt in front of Lenny. 

Otter indeed had a flat boy's chest, the only difference being that her nipples were hard and large and stood proud like dark raisins on her smooth-as-silk chest. Standing next to Rothgard, she had been idly fondling his organ, which was getting more and more aroused with the scene in front of us. 

No one had said a word while the lingual attentions of River on Lenny's prick were in progress, but after maybe five minutes of increasingly arousing attention to his prick, Lenny took a step backwards, and made eye contact with Otter and Rothgard, gesturing them over to the reclining chair, which I saw he had covered with a large white beach towel.

River stood and pulled off her pantaloons. She had a soft, flat ass, and wide hips with a belly she held well, and wonderful dimpled pale skin. Her crotch triangle was dark and thick. I saw that the females were tanned mostly just on arms and faces, their haunches, bellies and breasts were white and creamy, while Rothgard appeared to be uniformly brown all over. I was guessing maybe Spanish or Mediterranean heritage, no tanline visible anywhere. 

I speculated that he spent most of the day without clothes on up at their commune, and I wondered what it would be like to see that prick of his wagging around while he went about his daily business naked there, whatever it was. 

Otter walked over to the recliner, very small ass-cheeks moving as she went, barely a handful each, and sat at the edge, and we watched Rothgard approach her, his snake-prick not quite fully rigid but the head was heavy, just poking free from his foreskin, and it wagged from side to side as he walked over. She put her left hand under his prick-head and gave it a wet kiss on the tip, then, like River with Lenny, took his prick into her mouth.

We watched, enthralled, as she made the snake grow before our eyes. She nibbled the tip, darted her tongue around the edge of the head, licked up and down, suckled his balls, it was all wonderful, and soon the beast was sticking out long and hard in the sunlight. 

It had a strange abrupt curve to it at the end, like you had taken a handhold of its head and a couple inches of its shaft and bent it hard to one side, but there was no arguing with its potency at the moment. Lenny shot me a glance that said "Nice tool, eh?"

Otter left off with her mouth, while letting her fingers play over it, and then slowly eased her way back onto the recliner, letting her thighs open up and her furry notch spread wide. It was a lovely if perhaps overgrown cunt, with healthy looking outer lips and a fringe of light brown curly hair framing her split. 

Rothgard knelt and paid appropriate homage to it, gently at first, and then more vigorously as he explored her sex. Well, probably not big time exploration, he had likely been through this territory before many a time before, but it was new to me anyway. He licked her lips up and down, he stuck his tongue way up her and caressed her hips, which had sharp visible edges to them in the front. Her eyes were closed, and she was enjoying it. My own cock was getting uncomfortably aroused.

The two of them exchanged looks, then exchanged places, and he laid down on his back. She straddled him and lowered herself slowly down on his prick, a sultry sight. His eyes were alert, hungry, and he gazed at her face the whole time. I imagine the hard left bend of his prick straightened out in her channel. She stayed upright while he reached out and tweaked her nipples, and I could see her contracting her ass to grip his cock. 

She began a lovely little circuit move with her hips, giving him a little bit of friction, enough to feel good but not push the action too quickly. You could tell by how he moved his own hips that it was luscious. 

Then I heard the first of many shutter clicks. Lenny had removed the Canon from its tripod, and was looking for good angles while they fucked. Even when he knelt down for a shot, you could see his own prick poking out ramrod straight, its knob all purple and engorged. 

I wished I had my own camera to take a picture of him taking a picture. River had moved over next to me, and I felt her fingers playing lightly over my member. She glanced up at me, a wanton little smile on her face, trying to see if what she was doing was good.

Sheesh, this was going to be an interesting afternoon. She was so young, her skin so fresh, and her touch both made me quiver and feel about twenty years old again. I put my hand on her shoulder and let it drift down to her soft white ass, and the lovely curves of her hips. She looked pleased.

After about ten minutes of very slow, deliberate fucking, you could tell Rothgard was getting pretty close to coming. Otter was lying on top of him now, her smooth tit-less chest pressing on his own, working her hips pretty good in a figure eight, sometimes lingering on the upstroke, his prickhead barely in her, and then slithering down his shaft, where you'd see her anus pucker shut and you knew his cock was getting a good squeeze. 

I wondered how many times he had tagged her up at their barn or tepee or wherever they lived. Finally he began humping her as best he could from underneath, holding her hips in a death grip with his hands. 

She was nibbling his earlobes, and then he grunted and gave a good half dozen frantic thrusts up into her and lay still, Lenny catching all of this with his camera, poking the lens in next to their conjoined groins, right up next to his balls. 

River gave a little involuntary giggle next to me, then whispered in my ear, "they do like a good outdoors fuck." She shot a sultry little look to me, and I swallowed hard. I was hoping I would get a chance to feel her own lovely body pressed against mine, one way or another this afternoon. 

Otter continued to move slowly on top of the tall one, her anus contracting rhythmically, while her cunt muscles were busy pulling his semen up and out of his prick. River's fingers went back to work gently on my organ. It sure felt good.

Finally after a lingering kiss, Otter pulled off and we saw the big old snake of a prick slop out from her cuntlips, its head red, but smaller, and glistening with fluids. It was still long, but deflated, a limp garden hose. 

Rothgard stood up slowly, grabbed a towel and dried his groin, and headed to the table to get another glass of tequila. Lenny knelt in front of Otter to get a huge close-up of her worked over cunt, all wet and oozy. 

He stood up and exchanged a look with River, who made her way over to the recliner and laid down on her back, an absolutely lecherous smile directed at Lenny. If I was to get a turn with her, I would not be first in line apparently.

Lenny gave me the camera and told me to "get some good ones." He knelt between her legs, his balls all drawn up. I snapped a couple shots of him tonguing River, who had closed her eyes and spread her elbows out, fingers interlaced back behind her head, her great sidewinder tits splayed out on each side in the sun. 

They were liquid looking, all their heft just flowing off to each side, while Lenny slowly and delicately paid attention to her crotch. I came in close for her groin, zooming in with the camera to catch Lenny's lips playing over her dark well-furred labia and up and down and in her notch. Her hips would squirm involuntarily when he hit a good spot. I even got some rear shots of Lenny's balls, his prick shaft sticking out in front.

He took his time, and soon she had wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her breasts close. Her legs had stiffened out, even her toes beginning to point. Then her hips began to curl up, rotating her cunt into his face. 

Her own face had turned red, now scrunched up and turned to the side. A couple good exhalations and hip crunches signaled her climax, which was short but strong, but Lenny only let up briefly. 

She came twice more, fairly quickly, each a little less vigorous than the one before, until Lenny slowly stood up. I got a good shot of her soggy cunt, the lips all red and relaxed, juicy and inviting, her dark crotch-hair matted down with Lenny's saliva and her own fluids. Lenny's purple-headed organ bobbed with excitement. My own prick was twitching.

Lenny then moved forward and straddled her chest. She urged him up farther and tongued him, taking his prickhead into her mouth. He moved around, sliding his tool in and out of her lips, and spent some time on all fours over her head. 

I still have the image, and the photos on my hard-drive, to remind me of him above her, his prick down deep in her mouth, while she fondled his balls with her hands, her boobs spread out to the side and jiggling with the movements of their love-making. 

She sucked his nuts and he plowed his prick all over her face and chest, leaving moist little trails in her unruly dark head hair. Then with a conspiratorial grin directed my way, he stood up and turned around, then straddled her chest again, facing her feet this time. The "reverse tit-fuck." I have the whole series of photos, including one of her suckling his nuts, his ass pointed right at the camera lens.

He let her tongue his balls some, leaning forward and playing with her crotch, and then, sitting up more vertical while she held her big long tits together, he started to hump them but good. His rump was squeezing hard with the effort, and he leaned forward, again more or less on all fours while he continued to plow away. 

His face was red, and his movements more vigorous. His ass was squeezing faster and faster, each ass cheek making saucers, while he plowed away violently. And then with a great loud "fuck, yes!" uttered into the afternoon air, he dumped a load of semen out on her belly. 

As teenagers we had had contests to see how far we could "shoot" and plenty of times we could send a wad of semen nearly up to our own chins while we were lying on our backs, jerking away. His output now wasn't the same, the velocity way off from the old days, and he mostly just oozed a good puddle of gluey sperm out on to her belly, the pleasure on his face no less than as a young buck, however. 

He moved back a little on all fours, his cock dangling in front of her face and let her clean off the tip of his prick with her tongue and then stood up, cock pretty soft and wiped-out looking. His eyes gleamed at me, he had certainly enjoyed himself.

River shot me a "come hither" look I could not refuse. At the same time Lenny got up and reached for the camera from me. I mounted River in an instant, slithering my cock up her, my prick absolutely raging. Her cunt was already soft and relaxed and I was in such a hyper-aroused state I was only dimly aware of the shutter clicks from Lenny's camera that captured me humping her. 

His sperm was between us, I could feel its gooey mess sliding around between our chests and torsos, and while kissing her, I was acutely aware that her tongue had just been on Lenny's prick, some semen taste mixed with tequila coming through. 

Her belly was soft, slippery wet. I could feel her cunt gripping my tool, her hips matching my oscillations into her. Her hands were on my asscheeks, urging me on. I flattered myself that she was enjoying it too, but my pleasure was increasing so quickly that there wasn't much room in my brain to think about anything else. 

I was so worked up, my cock going in and out at a rapid, violent rate, I came way too fast in a furious set of rhythmic thrusts, her tongue sucking on mine while her cunt gripped me. My pumps gradually slowed, but it felt so good, I kept a little movement going for awhile after my climax. 

River's hands were caressing my back, drifting down to my ass crack, where her fingers ran up and down delightfully, and my whole body was limp with the expenditure. 

"Nice!" she whispered in my ear, then nibbled on my earlobe playfully. Finally I gave her a soft, wet kiss, her eyes dancing with pleasure, and uncunted. I stood up, my dangling prick a soggy mess. I had just coupled with a twenty year old hippie chick, a right handsome one at that. 




Riverside Lust



Rothgard gave me a sly smile and raised his glass of tequila towards me like he was proposing a toast, which made Otter laugh. 

We took a break, toweled off, and had some food and more tequila to drink. The afternoon was still young. 

The tequila was good. We'd gone through almost half the bottle. I would not have put the three items together. Lime and tequila were made for each other, of course, but the ginger beer, which was tart and not too sweet, was a perfect match. After my overheated fuck, it was great going down.

I looked over at the whole scene, everyone all unclothed. River's lovely soft chest was at ease, a big long breast drifting off to each side, Otter's dark nipples were a contrast to her white skin, Rothgard's prick was lolling potently to one side while he sat in a chair. Lenny's prick was dangling, his balls hanging in a small bundle, while he stood there with a half-filled glass in his hands, a thoroughly pleased and highly lecherous expression on his face. 

Luckily the sun had moved on to a later afternoon angle, and shade from the trees had hit the platform, while we talked. 

The river was making soft noises in the near distance, and I loved the way Otter was lounging on the recliner, her legs splayed carelessly apart, her labia open, her notch red and inviting. River was sitting next to her on the edge of the recliner, her long boobs swaying nicely every time she reached for her glass. Rothgard had stood up, his tanned skin a perfect counterpoint to the delicate white smooth skin of the two wenches. 

Half an hour later of relaxing and recovery, Lenny's face still sported his Cheshire cat's grin, while we continued to talk. His cock had gotten semi-hard again, balls dangling and prickhead in that wonderful soft, expectant state. I had the camera back in my hands, and zoomed out to catch the whole spectacle. Everyone looked up and smiled, a lovely looking group of wanton wastrels there in nowhere Northern California. Would have been a great cover shot for Nudist magazine, circa 1966.

Lenny had taken our afternoon's discussions into sexual territory, as usual. He had posed a question to the group: where was the most unusual place they had ever copulated? You could see everyone thinking, and Rothgard was the first to answer.

"A rowboat," he said simply. "Just about what you would expect. It was fun and totally spur of the moment. Otter and me had, ah, appropriated an abandoned rowboat on Long Lake, and were poking around a pretty isolated cove. No houses around, nobody fishing. Midsummer, nice and warm. I was rowing." 

"I had taken my top off," volunteered Otter, her face smiling with the prompted memory, "while I was sitting in the back of the boat." 

Lenny chuckled at this, and ran his fingers along his shaft. 

"He was rowing while I was in the stern, and I could see his cock half hard through his shorts. I reached over and gave his crotch a little rub, and he shot back a little look that meant ..."

"Let's fuck here. And now," added Rothgard, interrupting with a laugh. 

"Course you got to be a little careful standing up in a rowboat to pull your pants off," he said, like we might not have ever thought of this. He acted out the business of pulling his shorts off, teetering on one leg, then the other. 

"Getting the clothes off was my first challenge and I almost tipped the boat over while standing on one leg. Second challenge was finding some way to make Otter comfortable, and we spread out our clothes and used a boat cushion for a pillow for her head." 

"Even that wasn't all that great," Otter smiled. 

"Rough bottom of the boat. And with him humping me it made the damn thing rock way too much. We ended up switching places so I was on top. I know it wasn't so comfortable for him either, but was lots better for me. We were both real hot for each other. I gave him a good time though, don't think he minded." 

They exchanged a roguish smile of complicity. 

"There was something special about feeling him inside me while I had a beautiful view of a cove over the boat's side. Sun on my back, riding him, movement of the boat in the water. Then his cock pulsing into me, all liquidy all around. I fell asleep afterward on top of him," she laughed softly.

"While he was still in me. A little post-fuck nap."

"And got a good sunburn on her ass because of it," laughed Rothgard. "We finally woke up when the boat, which had been drifting, bumped up against the shore. I looked up and saw a guy standing at the edge of his pier, not fifty yards away, giving us a good look over. I am sure he was wondering what the hell was going on, us with no clothes on and joined together in a drifting boat. The ownership of which I would have been hard pressed to explain. Pulled my shorts on fast and high-tailed it out of there. Not your everyday fuck!"

We all paused, taking sips from our glasses.

"You up for another round?" Lenny directed this at me, eyebrows arching, a little challenging smile on his face.

I looked down at my groin, but I didn't need to. Like Lenny's, my cock was dangling, somewhere in that zone between soft and raging hard. It had desire stirring in it, all the sex talk putting it into an expectant, lust-packed condition. Adding to the arousal was the sight of the other three young healthy bodies, and even my old buddy's cock half-erect.

I noticed the eyes of River and Otter on my crotch, and my face turned red.

"Absolutely," I answered, confident as I could muster. Otter seemed to suppress a smile. I had wondered what the girls thought about playing with these old guys' members, but the whole spirit of the afternoon had been pleasure mode for everyone, it seemed. 

"Take a seat," Lenny directed me to the recliner.

Otter, relinquishing her place, stood up carefully, and looking me straight in the eye with a playful, challenging gaze, gave my prick a nice little caress with her hands before I sat down, the back of the recliner halfway up, so my legs were out, my back at about a forty-five degree angle.

River lent over to give me a long little teasing kiss, her right boob dangling down, within reach, and I couldn't resist feeling her nipples, and the soft heft and skin of her delectable tits. Such young skin, so smooth to the touch.

Otter positioned herself on one side and took my prick in her mouth, gently working her tongue around my cockhead until my hips were squirming. River had been dangling her breasts in front of my face while rubbing my chest with her hands, so I was able to see Otter at work between a lovely set of long, hanging luscious boobs. 

After a few minutes of this, River joined Otter down at my crotch, and they took turns taking my cock into their mouths. There was no hurry here, my earlier climax was delectably delaying my arousal, and it was an absolute piece of heaven to be watching them suckle my prick, the sight of their lips moving up and down, and feeling the nerve endings of my cock fire away in the warm afternoon air. What was it like for these youngsters to be sucking an old guy's cock? Didn't seem to matter. 

Lenny was grinning satanically, camera clicking away. At one point River had me pretty well engulfed in her mouth, while Otter sucked my nuts. This was almost too much and my hip movements caused them to halt and decouple, not wanting me to climax yet, I guess. 

They knelt on each side of my cock for a few minutes, letting some of my hardness dissipate, while they ran their fingers along my inner thighs and up my belly, River pinching my nipples. Then she stood up and came around to my head, dangling her left breast into my mouth. So long and delectable, like some exotic tropical fruit, heavy on a branch. 

River then had me sit up for a moment while she lowered the seat back all the way down, so I would be flat on my back. She turned and straddled my chest, facing my feet and lowered her cunt into my face. It was warm, furry, wet, soft and relaxed, and of course still well-basted with my own sperm. 

She eased herself down to my prick, and now we each had each other's crotch within tongue-reach. She ground her groin into my face, at the same time taking me deep in her own mouth. The sensations were all jumbled together, her cunt pressing hard and rhythmically into my face, her soft suction on my prick growing ever more insistent, a whole lot of things going on down there. 

And of course I couldn't see anything except her big soft ass on top of me, so my sensations were all touch, with sounds of wet friction fore and aft. That and the earthy, excited smell of her own crotch. 

I only knew from the photos later that Otter had been sucking my balls, the whole thing was just a cacophony of mixed up nerve events, and lasted far shorter than I might have wished.

With River's increasingly active groin over my face, the cunt and semen smell intoxicating as the mingled fluids ended up in my mouth, I found my hips starting to thrust and I pumped out a half dozen violent pulses of semen into the warm mouth of River, who kept sucking and sucking, until I was as drained as I have ever been. 

I tried to remember a time when two females had attended to me at the same time and couldn't. River lay still finally, my prick still in her mouth, her hips quiet above me.

We finally uncoupled, standing up and drying each other off with a towel. I pulled a stray cunthair from my tongue, where it had gotten stuck. A long, dark curly-kinked thread. 

I was pleased to see both River and Otter smiling with satisfaction at each other, they appeared to have enjoyed the effects of their ministrations to me. 

Rothgard and Lenny had huge banshee grins on their mugs at the side, and Lenny offered me a refilled glass of tequila. There were still two fairly stiff cocks left on the platform. Lenny's mostly erect and eager looking, Rothgard's sloping out to the side, with a heavy head poking past his foreskin. 

Lenny sidled over to Otter and placed her hand on his cock. She took the invitation and fondled his shaft lightly, sliding her fingers up and down, rummaging his balls, looking up into his face, until after a few minutes his prick was pointing out hard and straight, testicles beginning to rise up into their sack. She had an amused look, a half-smile that seemed to say "what's next?"

Lenny took her by the hand and led her over to the recliner, raising the back a bit and sitting down himself. He spread his legs and urged her to kneel between them. She suckled his balls first, the second set she had had in her mouth that day, until his cock was pointing straight up. She took her time working over his prickhead, lips light and deft, tongue darting over his piss-slit, very gentle, very arousing. 

Lenny raised his head and looked around at the rest of us. River sought his gaze. 

"Any particular desires, O Phallic One?" River queried, her eyebrows arching in amusement. Lenny, it appeared, had acquired a nickname. 

I am pretty sure Lenny had a clear idea of what he wanted, but he took his time answering, pretending to think harder than was probably strictly necessary. 

"I want to stay hard for at least another hour," he finally said. The girls nodded, although Rothgard snorted and shook his head as if to say "no way."

"Think you can handle two cocks at the same time?" Lenny directed the challenge to Otter. 

"Sure," she smiled. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"I'd love to tag you on top," went Lenny, "but you're so small, and I feel so heavy on top of you. Why don't you straddle my prick in a moment," he said, "and maybe attend to your friend here too? At the same time? Later maybe between you and River, you can make him come with your hands? I'd love to see how much semen you can milk out of those handsome balls of his on his second round." 

I had a feeling this little scenario had been in Lenny's mind for awhile. He looked at me and gestured to the table, where the camera was. I was to be the pornographer-camera man again. 

He gestured at Rothgard's nuts, which were all drawn up in their sack, one of them hanging a little lower, while the great prick listed off to one side, the head halfway poking through his foreskin, damp and reddish at the tip. 

Otter just smiled, her hands playing lightly over Lenny's prick. 

"Sure" said River, eyes flashing with the challenge. 

Otter slowly stood, turning to face Lenny, who was half reclined. She straddled him and moved up his body until her cunt was in front of his face and gently thrust it forward. For a few moments he buried his head there, rubbing her little backside with his hands. She retreated, and moved her way down his torso, readying herself for insertion. 

I grabbed the camera off the table and started snapping.

Then ever so slowly she lowered herself down on him. I focused intently as she slid down his shaft, until all you could see was his balls at the bottom where their groins joined. She gave a little wiggle with her bottom, which got a lecherous grin out of Lenny. He reached out and twisted her nipples, while she just barely moved her pelvis on him. It looked divine.

For the next stretch of time, she alternated riding him, real slowly, uncoupling when either of them felt that maybe the cuntal massage was getting my friend too close to climax. During the intervals, she did various things to keep him aroused, but not overly so. He lay back with some sort of Roman emperor expression on his face, the center of his own little sexual kingdom.

Once she gave him a nipple massage, running her smooth pale chest with those dark, hard oversized nipples along his entire body, head to foot, like she was drawing nipple parallel lines on him. Another time she just sat on his belly, while Rothgard, standing close, volunteered his cock, out horizontal, for her to suckle, and for Lenny to watch. 

Lenny took this all in intently, and I got some wonderful close-up shots of her mouth buried up to the tall guy's crotch hair, fingering his nuts, and playing with the great snake. 

Then one time when she had lowered herself back down on him and was slowly working her pelvis on him, River came up behind Lenny's head and bent over, draping her big long boobs into his face. Each one of them covered his eyes, as he bent his head back, and she dangled them relentlessly over his face, letting them droop around his head, soft flesh grazing his cheeks and chin, forehead and nose. It was beautiful, made me take a deep breath of envy. 

River then, and this is the part that I almost don't know how to describe, drooped each of her tits onto his eye-sockets, her soft mammary flesh bunching out around his face, completely covering his eyes. She pulled the left one back with a hand, so it was behind his head while he was looking up, the right one still over his right eye. Then with a slow, deliberate motion she raised her back slightly, so that each boob acted like a pendulum, swinging over his face until settling into a position opposite to where it had been before. The boobs took turns sitting on his eyes, first left, then right, and each time she raised her chest, they would cycle back and forth, one fore, one aft of his head. 

It was like she was walking her tits over his face, and she got a delightful little rhythm going, just by raising and lowering her back. Intoxicating. She had a big grin on her face the whole time, obviously very pleased with herself. 

I am guessing she had never pulled this stunt before, but I also bet some lucky guy would get graced with this little performance again sometime down the road. Lenny's body was ramrod still, as he was luxuriating in this novel boob rub. 

I had the bizarre thought that this would have been a fabulous pendulum movement demonstration in our introductory physics class at UNH. We would never have forgotten reciprocal motion, ever. 

Well, obviously, she couldn't keep up this for too long, her back under strain of being half bent over and it taking some fairly concentrated activity to keep it up, and besides Otter had begun to oscillate her pelvis on his prick again, which started Lenny making some involuntary hip motions.

So Otter pulled off to sit on his torso, and Rothgard pushed his insistent cock into her face again. We all watched while she tongued him over, hands on his hips, his prick disappearing into her mouth, and then emerging, while she tickled her tongue over its hard, red knob. A mouthwatering sight. Her hand had drifted back to fondle Lenny's shaft while she did this. After a few minutes, Lenny made a move to stand up, gesturing for Rothgard to take his place on the recliner.

Rothgard made himself comfortable, and Lenny guided Otter around to between the big guy's long tanned legs, spread wide apart.

"Bend over and suck him," he urged in a low breathless voice.

Otter did as requested, lowering her mouth to the long curved serpent, which Rothgard was holding vertical with one hand. Lenny was standing behind her, and using his hands, spread her legs further apart, so her notch showed, groin hair curling around and framing the split. 

I caught a nice shot of it. While she moved her head up and down over Rothgard's prick, Lenny pulled up behind her, running his prick up and down her ass crack, having to spread his own legs a bit so he was at the right height. 

Then, with a decisive movement, Lenny held his prick out straight, one hand on her right hip, and slid his cock firmly into Otter, who gave a little involuntary gasp when it was buried fully up her.

Hands on her hips, he humped her doggie style. He humped her but good. From behind, his testicles were all drawn up, and his ass was busy squeezing rhythmically, pushing his cock into her. She had to hold off sucking Rothgard, her head resting next to his groin while she braced herself with her hands. 

He paused a few times to rest his chest on her back, feeling for her nipples, while his prick was up her. I circled around, catching the action from every angle I could think of. He wasn't long in her, that's for sure. He had started in on a final series of near violent thrusts. His face was red, his breathing rapid, his hips now moving fast and hard. 

Otter didn't look all that comfortable, to tell the truth. She wasn't that big a person, and while Lenny wasn't the biggest cock around, he wasn't being very gentle either. His eyes had a wild, determined look. He was going to dump his sperm inside her even if he had a heart-attack doing it. 

He came with a low guttural sound, his hips moving strongly, and for a half dozen thrusts, his pelvis pushing big time, he pumped his afternoon load of semen into her, while she braced herself as gamely as she could. When done, he raised his head, letting his body lean into her, who had to hold on tight to the recliner. He let out a long, drawn out "Fuuuck!"

He pulled out, prickhead all purple and glistening. "Damn," he muttered, eyes nearly glazed over. And then, taking me, maybe all of us a little by surprise, he knelt behind Otter and gave her notch a kiss. Probably the most tender action I have ever seen him take; it happened too suddenly for me to capture on the camera.

He stood up, walked over to the table and poured himself another glass of tequila, face red, sweating profusely and breathing hard, his wet prick wagging side to side, and then pulled up a chair next to Rothgard, whose prick was still lying there erect next to Otter's face. 

Without saying a word, Lenny gestured to Rothgard to stand up, and then he had River lie down, lowering the back of the lounger so it was completely flat. Her tits flopped out to each side, very inviting.

He had Rothgard hover over River, on all fours, and then spoke in a low voice to Otter.

"Dump his sperm out on her," he said intently, pointing to River's tits. Otter looked a little surprised, but sat next to them on the edge of the recliner, and began to stroke Rothgard. 




Riverside Lust



His prick was gorgeous, all erect and leering out to the side with its dramatic curved shaft. Otter rummaged his balls, pulling his shaft with one hand, then alternating with the other, while she manipulated his cock. 

I knelt next to them, marveling at the wonderful up-close angles I could get with the Canon, her fingers on his cock, pulling it this way and that, how his balls hung so handsomely in the late afternoon light, how delicately she ran her fingers over his cockhead and slipped his foreskin up and down over his tool. A young hard, insistent prick, with stamina. I wished I was twenty again.

Within a few minutes, he was starting to curve his back, his hips crunching forward and Otter slowed up, avoiding his cock now, but stroking his balls and the inside of his legs. It bobbed around with the motions she made. Lenny held out his hand for the camera, which I yielded up a bit reluctantly. 

Rothgard looked a bit like some sort of horse or four-legged animal, his prick outsized and all ready for business. His head was down, looking in turn from River's chest to Otter working him over and then to his own prickhead, swollen and doubtless aching. With her hands River urged his head down to her chest, and had him suckle on her left breast, now his body making more of a triangle, his ass in the air. 

Otter started in on him again, pulling more energetically now, spitting on her hands to make them slippery. She kept the same tempo, but moved her hands around his shaft and cockhead, fingers squeezing his cockhead. 

A drop of fluid had emerged at the tip of his tool and she smoothed it around his prickhead until his equipment was glistening. She had a determined, if half-amused look on her face, this was likely not part of her normal sexual routine.

Pretty soon he was up on all fours again, shifting his weight from one knee to the other, his head raised, and his back arching with pleasure. Otter had moved in close, pushing the heel of one hand in hard on his perineum and rubbing his balls, while her other hand moved quickly in for the kill. 

All of a sudden Rothgard raised his head up a bit more, his back making a semi-circle while his hips bucked, and he spurted out onto River's chest and belly. It was like having the sprinklers go off during a fire, sperm flying off in small drops in every direction, while Otter kept her fingers flying furiously over his cockshaft, a big smile on her face. 

Rothgard's ass cheeks kept pumping while he thrust into Otter's fingers, the great serpent spitting all over the place. Little globules of sperm landed everywhere from River's chin to down past her navel, the bulk in the valley between her boobs. Lenny was snapping shots like a demon, until all the activity came to a close, Rothgard breathing heavily, his head drooping. A little drop of semen hung from his prickhead, the shaft long but slack. Otter rubbed some of the semen onto River's body, so sweet. 

We were wiped out. 

Lenny sat down on a chair, camera dangling from his hand, his eyes shining but every other part of him saying fatigue. The youngsters looked beat too, although their movements had a little more life to them. All three cocks were limp and spent.

After a few minutes of us all looking at each other, Rothgard addressed the girls more than us old guys, "Clean up in the river?" 

The two girls both nodded and we watched them pick their way down to the river, three very different lovely naked asses in view, where they rinsed themselves off, squatting in a couple smallish pools, dipping their hands in the water and rubbing their faces and limbs. I wondered idly what sort of fluids from them would be heading downstream after their bathing. 

They came back up, looking a little refreshed. 

They stayed a little longer, finished the tequila, all of us pretty well wrung out. Lenny had offered them dinner, but only Otter and Rothgard accepted. River declined, saying she might be back later, but I knew she wouldn't be. I was sorry to see her take leave, and watch her pad barefoot back up the trail to her place, clothes back on but breasts still moving with energy from side to side as she walked up the trail, her wide hips swaying as she made her way.