camping out

Two summers ago, my friends and I went camping on a beach in Maryland. The campgrounds were dirty but there were lots of people around. Camping out on a site next to us were two Yugoslavian families who had driven up all the way from California.

They had brought with them great cigars and terrific wine. The two women in the group were stunning. One was in her early forties and had a wonderful ass and a great sense of humor. The other one was less outgoing, she must have been 37-38, but she was great looking too although too slim for my taste.

In the evening, we went over to their site to chat and drink. They were seated on a bench next to a wooden table, squatting mosquitoes and drinking wine and they offered us some. I loved the accent of the older woman, who sat next to me. She was wearing light jeans and a T-shirt and from the first minute was laughing and touching my arm while we spoke.

The bench was situated below a shade, and there were a couple of dim lights off the side. My friend was sitting across from me chatting with the husbands. The other woman was pottering about and she finally came and joined her husband. We were having a delightful conversation.

As evening fell, I decided it was time to get into action. I slid my right arm under the table and rested it gently on the woman's thigh (the forty-year old). She glanced down for a second but kept talking. In a few minutes, she crossed her leg away from mine, leaving that delicious gap under her thigh that I so like to get my hand into. As if on cue, I slid forward, turned my arm around (it was dark and there was plenty of opportunity to adjust without raising any suspicion) and placed my palm right under her thigh. The bench was long but narrow, which meant that the greater part of her thighs were extended out beyond the edge of the bench. So I was able to cup her thigh from under.

We kept up the conversation, and although the woman looked down nervously a couple of times and even moved a little bit, she showed no hostility. I think she had been drinking all day and wasn't prepared to throw away an opportunity for some fun. But I don't think she was showing willingness to be chikaned, even though I felt she was debating whether to go for it. So I kept rubbing her thigh from under, laughing at her jokes, every once in a while turning my attention to her husband who was seated across the table.

I dug my fingers into her flesh and started to slide my upturned hand towards her pussy. SHe tensed up just a little when the tip of my fingers arrived at the junction of her thighs and her bottom. I was able to prod further and feel the warmth of her pussy. SHe allowed that contact for a few minutes, but then shifted away from me to deny access. I went back to palming her thigh, but now I also kept rubbing her hand and playing with her fingers under the table. SHe didn't respond but didn't move her hand away.

A little while later, we changed our seating arrangement because the mosquitoes were getting intolerable on the other side of the table. We continued to sit where we were, but turned around -- with our backs now facing the table. And the husbands brought out chairs and sat down across from us. In this new configuration, there was no table between us and the husbands (and my friend) -- therefore, I could no longer carry out any frontal action.

So I decided to focus on her wonderful ass. It was dark enough for me to wrap my arm around from behind and basically hold her ass. She said not a thing. She'd move every once ina while, and with every move, i;d just slide my hand right under her butt. At one point, I had her crack and half of her left cheek in my palm. I got so bold that I started to lift up her ass and pull it towards me -- and she responded by allowing herself to be dragged over.

After a while, she got tired and I think a little scared because her husband was starting to become grim. I gradually retreated and started focusing on the conversation instead. By 11, we were so drunk that we could have dropped off to sleep right there and not one mosquite would have bothered us. But we chose to part ways and went to bed in our separate tents. When I greeted the group the next morning, I got a subdued hello -- I didn't know if it was because of the hangover or if the woman had told her husband. In any case, we were planning to leave by noon -- so after a couple of hours on the beach, I headed home to wank off.

[ see in the context ] [ back to the menu ] [ pics & movies ]