Peter Jensen - A husband_s hobby

There was no further delay. Mark, already excited by watching the two boys' frenzied fucking of his wife's mouth and cunt, began to fuck furiously into the depths of her rectum, while his young charges stroked his long hard thrusts into her lips and pussy. It took a moment, but they quickly began to move in unison, buffeting her body between them like a sack of soft, resilient foam rubber. As if on a pre-arranged signal, all three of them pulled their fiery rods almost all the way out of her panting body, leaving only the heads in the hotly sucking lips of her three orifices, her insatiable cunt and her ravished anus and her voracious mouth. Then, simultaneously, they drove deep into her body to collide with the one that ran halfway down her esophagus. She uttered a single low whine of ecstasy that was interrupted only occasionally by a deep grunt from her chest as they smacked into her nakedly writhing body with more and more passion.

It was like nothing she had ever dreamed of before – every opening in her body was filled with hard virile male flesh and her own beloved Mark was slamming into her forever-stretched anus with more enthusiasm than she had known he possessed. Again and again the two campers and their counselor pounded against her quivering flesh in the dark air by the lakeside, pistoning into her flowered open orifices. There was no pain or discomfort, only sheer, raw lust.

Her hips began to move backwards to meet the ass-crushing lunges of Jason and Mark as they slammed into her cunt and rectum, then forward again to swallow the whole of Art Towne's young cock plunging into her sucking mouth. Her whole body undulated wildly between the three males and her buttocks moved in tiny, abandoned circles. Wilder and wilder they became, slamming her back and forth on the squashing stack of sleeping bags. All four of their coarse groans resounded in a satanic symphony of mad sexual delight.

But it was Natalie who wailed first.

"Ooooohhhggh… mmm… mmaah!" she screamed around the penis pistoning into her warm, saliva-filled mouth.

The beautiful nature guide's wife was absolutely insane with desire and began sobbing out with the force of the orgasm that seemed to go on and on forever. Mark and the boys, intoxicated by their complete conquest of her body, drove into her again and again as though they were being spurred on by her animal cries of release.

Almost simultaneously they plunged into her as far as they could go, and their cocks jerkily began to spurt into her pussy and throat and rectum. It was Art who began first, shooting white-hot jets of fresh creamy cum down her sputtering throat with such force and speed that she couldn't swallow fast enough to keep up. His heated gushes of tangy sperm dribbled from both corners of her mouth as she tried in vain to lap up every last drop.

Jason and Mark exploded almost instantly, pumping their boiling semen into her ass and her cunt so fast and furiously that she was sure their cocks would burst through the thin dividing membrane and collide. She had no idea how her dilating and undulating passages could ever accommodate the copious supplies of raging male sperm that were being shot lewdly into them, but her pelvis rocked and thrashed joyfully in a willing effort to accept it all.

At last, they collapsed in a heap in the center of the sweat-soaked, cum-sticky pile of sleeping bags, their naked flesh glimmering in the pulsing orange light from the lanterns. Natalie was hardly aware when the three spent and satisfied males slithered to the perimeter of the tarpaulin, to be replaced almost immediately by three new bodies – Rich Simmons, Bobby Farris, and his friend, Dennis O'Malley. Natalie smiled happily her warm welcome, winking to Mark as she began to arrange herself for another wild quartet of youthful, exuberant, exhilarating fucking. She gave herself over completely to her joyful new task, not even bothering to count or remember how many delicious, mind-shattering orgasms she experienced that night on the shore of Lake Devonshire.

Natalie Jenkins leaned over the back of the chair and smiled. She recognized the handwriting on the letter Mark was reading – it was the handwriting of his old college buddy, Stuart Brooks. "What's he got to say this time, dear?" she asked playfully.

"Listen to this, Nat," Mark began, reading from the letter. "He's going to open the camp for winter sports during Christmas vacation, and he wants to know if we'd like to come up and be teachers and counselors again. What do you think?"

The dark-haired math teacher looked away thoughtfully. "What kind of winter sports, Mark? There are too many trees around there for skiing."

"Oh, I imagine Stu could think of some indoor sports – especially with you around," the friendly-faced husband grinned. "Really, Nat, we ought to go up and help him out… Remember how well those kids did on their psychological development tests, after you gave them that photography lesson…" He winked exaggeratedly and the dark-haired young woman laughed aloud.

"Let's look at those pictures, Mark," she purred suggestively. They'd poured over the lewd color prints many, many times since they returned from Weatherly-Brooks Summer Camp for Boys. At first, Natalie had thought she would be repulsed or offended by the obscene, compromising shots of herself, but after she had gone over them all with her loving husband at her side, she had to admit that she became definitely aroused by them.

Mark nodded his agreement and went into the bedroom where he kept the photos handy in the top drawer of his dresser. They were in a well-worn folder, and several of the prints were caked with sticky dried cum, from the times they had fucked during one of their reminiscing sessions.

Natalie eagerly slid in beside her husband in the big armchair, pulling the lamp over closer so they could see the pictures clearly. She squirmed excitedly as he opened the sheaf of perhaps fifty photographs, and her pupils dilated as she saw the first shot come into view. It was one of the first roll, taken in the Camp Director's office, and she was leaning back on the desktop with her legs arched up on either side of her sunlit pussy. She leaned down to study the glistening pink folds of hair-framed flesh, wondering that such a tiny slit could expand so much as to accept a huge blood-engorged cock.

"God, your cunt's tight, Nat," Mark said thoughtfully, looking hard at the suggestive pose in the picture. He hastily flipped through the rest of the office shots until he came to the series taken up on the hillside, the pictures of his wife being fucked every which way by six lustful adolescent boys.

"Shit, I wish I'd been there that day," he remarked. He was looking at a close-up of the coralline flanges of Natalie's cunt-lips nibbling around the perimeter of an anonymous cock that was pulling out of her vagina. The cords of his wife's thighs were shadowed by the sun as they stood out under her smooth soft flesh, and they seemed to be pulling at the sensually moist slit to hold it open for the violating penis. This photograph was one of his favorites, and it was coated with a thin film of semen, which he had tried unsuccessfully to wipe off after an afternoon of masturbating to the snapshot.

"Mmmmm, I wish you'd been there, too, Mark," Natalie crooned, rubbing up against her husband's shoulder with her face. "We'd have loved it so much more together…" She looked down at the picture of her widespread anus where someone had stuck his finger in her virginal rectum. She hadn't known it at the time, but the finger had belonged to her first illicit young lover, Jason Powell, the boy her husband had secretly picked out for her to use. She remembered how it had been uncomfortable at the time, and then she smiled smugly when she thought how much she had enjoyed anal fucking, ever since that one orgiastic night on the beach after the campfire.