Jenna Jameison: Erotica for Women with Explicit Sex

Lisa made no attempt whatsoever to be quiet. She was moaning audibly from nearly the beginning, and the longer we went, the louder her vocalizations became. With her hands planted firmly on my chest, she ground her hips into me with increasing urgency, clearly building toward orgasm. When she finally got there, she screamed “oh god, Clint!”

Almost as soon as the words escaped her lips, she seemed to realize her error. She froze and her eyes opened wide, as an alarmed look came across her face. She ducked down, as if hiding, and whispered urgently in my ear, “Oh shit. Oh Shit. Shit. Shit. They’re all going to know now aren’t they? They’ll know I was fucking you, not Brent. Why am I such a fucking idiot?”

I tried to think of the right thing to say, but my ability to concentrate was impaired by the fact that my still rock hard cock was inside a woman who was not my wife. Eventually, and somewhat pathetically, I whispered back “I doubt anyone will put the pieces together. Lots of people are making noises.” The last part at least was true. I could make out the sounds of at two different couples still going at in the near vicinity. What I didn’t mention was that, by the sound alone, I could easily tell who those couples were (Candy and her boyfriend Keith to our right and Krista and her husband Jim to our left).

Lisa raised her head and looked directly in my eyes, as if trying to gauge whether I was being sincere. Apparently she was thoroughly unconvinced because a moment later she lowered her head and whispered, “You’re a good fuck, but a bad liar.”

It was only then that she seemed to realize that I was still inside her, that from my perspective, our encounter had been interrupted prior to completion. She nibbled my ear and whispered, “I’m sorry, Clint. In my panic, I totally forgot about finishing you off.” With that, she began to move her hips again, slowly pistoning up and down on my cock.

Wanting a change of position, I reached around to brace her back and slowly rolled us over onto the other cot until we were in the missionary position. Once we were in position, Lisa raised her legs high, and I began to move faster. Between the slapping noises and the creaking of the cot, we were making quite a ruckus. Sensing my impending orgasm, she blurted out, perhaps a little more loudly than she had intended, “don’t come in me, Clint, just in case.”

She said it just in time for me to pull out. As I did, she grasped my cock with one hand and lifted up her tank top with the other, exposing most of her belly. In the dim light, I could barely see the ropes of cum shooting out and landing near her belly button.

After we’d cleaned ourselves off, Lisa crawled into my sleeping bag with me and lay down with her head on my shoulder. We had agreed that Lisa and Becca would return to their cots at midnight and it wasn’t yet 11:00. Lisa finally broke the silence. “So do you think I’ve made things worse tonight? How do you think Becca and Brent are going to react if tomorrow everyone in camp knows what we did tonight?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But even if they know, maybe they won’t say anything. Brent and Becca may never know that they know. Right?”

“I guess.”

I must have dozed off after that, because the next thing I knew, my watch was vibrating. It was midnight. I woke Lisa, who had dozed off too, and she gave me a final kiss goodbye before heading back to Brent. A minute or so later, Becca walked quietly back into view. In the dim light, her expression was hard to read. I had no idea what to say to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either, but, reassuringly, she crawled into my sleeping bag with me and curled up onto me, her arm draped across my body and her head resting on my chest. We both promptly fell asleep.

During breakfast the next morning, Becca and I kept getting weird looks. At first I thought I was imagining it, but when Brent and Lisa walked into the center of camp and I saw the way others were looking at them and whispering, I knew something was up.

It didn’t take long to get confirmation. Alesha, true to form, was plugged in to every bit of gossip within the group, and before everyone had even finished their morning coffee, she had dragged Becca and Lisa off into the brush to confront them with what she’d heard.

Becca came back about 10 minutes later, shaking her head as we made eye contact, but not looking terribly upset. She pulled me aside. “Good news, Clint. Everyone knows about last night and they all think we’re kinky swingers,” she said with a deadpan delivery. “Apparently neither of us was as discreet as we thought. According to Alesha, Terra and Frank actually saw Brent and I in the act. Oh, and apparently both Krista and Candy heard Lisa calling out your name last night when you too were going at it. Lisa’s hoping that detail doesn’t make it back to Brent.”

“Oh man. What the hell did we get ourselves into? How did Alesha react to all this?”

Becca smirked a little, “Honestly, I think she was totally unnerved. Not necessary by what we did, but by the thought that we might actually be swingers and somehow she didn’t know about it until now.”

“I assume you explained the situation.”

“Yeah, we gave her the quick version. Assured her this was a one-time thing. And I swear to god she looked disappointed. I really wonder about her sometimes.”

We were interrupted by the guides calling everyone to come down to the rafts. As I was heading down to the water, Brent and I made eye contact. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t try to avoid it and seemed to be in a much better place. He nodded at me, as if to say “we’re good; no hard feelings,” as we stepped onto the raft.

That afternoon, we stopped at the incredible Havasu Creek. Words don’t even begin to describe the surreal beauty of that place: pristine turquoise water, like the beach in Tahiti, picturesque waterfalls and countless tranquil pools. It was like paradise. I’d never seen anything like it. And it seemed to have an intoxicating effect on everyone. The usual suspects (Jen, Sonja, Candy, Krista) were all topless almost immediately. But what really shocked me was when I turned around and saw Becca’s breasts. I never, in a thousand years, thought I’d see Beccago topless in front of other people — never. But as I looked around, all I saw were breasts. Everyone was topless.

Becca looked at me and shrugged, “when in Rome, I guess. I didn’t want to be the prude one.” She smiled, “And now I’ve got a reputation as a swinger to uphold.”

Becca seemed a little self-conscious at first, but before long, neither of us thought anything of it. We each took a few jumps off of a decent sized waterfall into a large pool below and everyone clapped and cheered. After a while, though, we decided to venture off upstream and explore some more secluded areas. Several times, one of us pulled the other into an embrace and we kissed. I even took the opportunity to fondle her breasts a few times. We seemed to be in a good place, but neither of us asked the other any questions about the night before. I wondered how long that would last.

We reached a point where the creek forked off in several directions. We clung to the left wall of the canyon and followed the water around the bend to where we could hear another small waterfall. Up ahead, Becca had stopped and was peering over a small bush, toward the waterfall. I came up behind her. It was then that I realized why she had stopped. Under the small waterfall, I saw a man’s back, with two legs sticking out by each hip. I looked closer. It was Jim, our muscle-bound New Zealander guide and the legs belonged to Jen. He was standing in the creek. She was seated on a rock just behind the small waterfall. By the way his hips were moving, it was clear that they were fucking. He had his arms around her hips, supporting her on the rock as he thrust into her.