Showing posts with label anal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anal. Show all posts
What they saw in their motel room
It was one of those small motels along the highway. There were two beds, a dresser, a night stand, a lamp and a mirror. They took the mirror off the wall and propped it against one bed so they could see themselves from the other bed.
Put A Ring On it
Some women are the marrying kind and if you let them slip away, you'll be sorry. Here's a little advise from our friend Beyonce:
If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it
Peg me Wiki
According to Wikipedia, Pegging is a sexual practice in which a woman penetrates a man's anus with a strap-on dildo.
I find the idea to be pretty hot, but unfortunately, online photos I've found just don't seem to be as sexy as the idea.
Here's the photo that goes with the article. My question: why is this basic drawing so much sexier than any of the photos I've found so far? There's something pretty sexy going on here.
Shopping Spree
Oh, looks like someone's been on a shopping spree. Let's see what was on the shopping list...
* cigarrettes
* lube
* butt-plugs--one medium, one large
* a porn DVD or two from VIP video
Wonder what she has planned for tonight? Humm.....
* cigarrettes
* lube
* butt-plugs--one medium, one large
* a porn DVD or two from VIP video
Wonder what she has planned for tonight? Humm.....
She likes to stretch
Fact: Sex is a great way to increase flexibility.
Small but Sexy
This image is small but sexy. She made it with her camera phone, at night, and the light wasn't great, and the camera light on the cel phone wasn't very good, but she wanted to take a sexy photo. Really sexy. And naughty. She had been looking at porn on her computer, bored, lonely, and drinking white wine. She was getting hot and bothered and getting up the courage to post a picture of herself online.
She was worried one of her friends, of worse, a teacher, would see her image. So she wrapped a scarf around her like a bandit.
This was as sexy as she could come up with. Sometimes good things come in little packages.
She was worried one of her friends, of worse, a teacher, would see her image. So she wrapped a scarf around her like a bandit.
This was as sexy as she could come up with. Sometimes good things come in little packages.
When it's time
A lovely image. Such a tight fit, and when it's time, there's no time to take off the panties.
The Position
After some effort and a few failed attempts, they found the perfect position. If she lay on her back, she could raise her legs all the way up and back to her ears. Being flexible was no problem, but it was hard to keep her leg up and keep her back arched up. Then they realized all he had to do was straddle her legs. Sitting on them held them back, and also put his cock right above her face. She loved this, because it pinned her to the bed, and made it impossible to move--it was basically a light form of bondage and restraint, but without messing with ropes and chains. Sometimes she loved being in control, but she really loved being taken. The other advantage was that it exposed and opened her backside for easiest entry by their friend. As he lowered himself down to enter her, her husband was afforded a perfect view. He loved to watch his wife being penetrated in the ass. She loved feeling bent in half and getting in the ass--it was deep, but a smooth straight shot, so there was no pain. Being bent over so far meant that the entering penis hit her spot inside. If they timed it all perfectly, she'd cum just as he'd shoot his load in her butt, causing her to cum harder, causing her husband to let go of his load into her open, waiting mouth. Triple satisfaction.
Hot Betty (Part 3)
So the endless debate: in Gilligan's Island, Ginger vs. Mary Ann, and in the Flintstones, Wilma vs. Betty. In both, I take the not as obviously hot, girl-next-door. The brunette over the fiery redhead. The shy one over the flirt.
Wilma might have been the center of attention, but behind closed doors, Betty has a hidden side just waiting to come out.
Wilma might have been the center of attention, but behind closed doors, Betty has a hidden side just waiting to come out.
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| Betty was a hottie. She loved her mail-order lingereie from Fredricks of Hollyrock. |
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| Betty had a thing for Fred ever since she met him at Bedrock High |
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| Betty wanted to show Fred a few tricks she'd read about. |
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| Betty loved Fred's "bone" and she was very skilled at giving "bone jobs." |
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| Fred's bone was too large for her bum, but she tried anyway. |
The Quickie
Sometimes Mommy Likes it Rough
Sometimes she likes it rough. She likes her hair pulled and to be taken hard in the back. She likes being on her knees. Just because she has kids and is a mom, doesn't mean she's lost her edge. She loves being a mom, she loves having to watch her language and set a good example. But whenever she can, she likes being bad again.
Best View Ever
When making love with the wife, this is perhaps the best view ever.
Our Home Movie
They got a new camcorder and wanted to test it out. So they made a little home movie.
Bottons Up!
There's few things that turn me on more than when she bends over on her knees, revealing the curve of her backside, the cleft of her butt, with the thin hair, usually hidden, open to my sight. I love her full lips, her small pucker of her pretty anus. She loves to be gently spanked, pinched and licked from behind like this, until we are both too turned on to restrain ourselves any longer. She loves to be taken in the back, slowly and gently, until her body relaxes and can accommodate my cock. Then she likes me to go fast and harder, so she can feel my balls slapping on her pussy lips. She says by keeping her knees together, she can keep pressure on her clitoris. Usually, we'll both end with crashing, powerful orgasms. And I love that sometimes she's not even fully undressed.
KNUCKLE DEEP
I knew she masturbated, of course. But I'd never simply asked her how she did it and what she liked. She told me she really liked it in the morning, right when she woke up or right after her shower. This made sense, as she always seemed to be "awake" when she woke up, unlike me, who needs about 3 cups of coffee before I can even form words.
I always assumed she'd lay on her back, rub her clit with her fingertip. I was surprised to learn that she in fact liked to be sitting up, on her knees. She loved to fantasize about being taken from behind. One morning when I stayed over and she was feeling extra awake and frisky, I asked her to demonstrate her private technique for me.
She started out laying on her stomach and rolling around on her blankets. She slipped a pillow between her legs and humped it. As she got more and more excited, she raised her hips and sat back onto her knees. Her hand reached back behind her and slipped into her. She began to push it in and out, deeper and deeper with each thrust. She was really getting into it, moving closer and closer to orgasm. Then I realized which hole her finger was in, pushed as deep as it would go, hard as it could thrust.
We'd never tried anal before, but she was clearly showing me exactly what she liked.
We'd never tried anal before, but she was clearly showing me exactly what she liked.
CAPTURED BY PIRATES, PART TWO
While sailing to England from my home, a sugar cane plantation in the Caribbean, my ship was attacked by pirates and I was taken captive. I was first sodomized by the pirate captain and then lashed to a canon and taken at will by the crew. I was forced to endure every man's cock in my bum and mouth, and left without toilet.
The only condolence was that my virginity had been made strictly taboo. As rough, vulgar, and crude as the pirates were, they obeyed orders to the letter for fear of their own torture and death.
At first I had hoped to be ransomed back to my wealthy family, but I learned that it was not to be. It was too risky, almost certain capture to attempt a trade of money for a hostage, when the market offered cash and no troubles.
We sailed for two weeks, and made port somewhere in what I concluded was Brazil. Before we landed, I was washed with water and harsh brushes, the kind used to scrub the decks. Then I was wrapped in a blanket and taken to a place called the Fish Lodge.
The Fish Lodge was a foul place, where men were sold as slaves and women to the brothels. The women were displayed stark naked, in public auction. Sebastian, the cruel foreman of the lodge, would grope the poor girls all over their naked bodies, lifting and cupping their breasts, swatting their stomachs, and showing the crowd the most intimate details. He turns one girl away from the crowd and parts her soft buttocks. "Take a look as this pretty little pooper," he said. "The wench was hidding it all to herself under these soft pillows... it's tight and juicy, good for years of service to the wise buyer...."
Strange men step up to the girl and take turns pinching, poking, and inspecting her. But I am not put onto the auction stand. Rather, a special arrangement has been made to give a private showing to the Madame of the largest and most infamous brothel in Rio, Mme de Treval.
I am surprised that she is not Braziallian, but apparently French. She is assisted by anther french woman who comands me to lift up my arm."Madame wants a good look at you..."
"Mmmm ... not bad at all. She's young and of good blood. We can get a premium price and a good few years' service out of her..."
"She's too thin, Mme."
"Yes, perhaps," said the Madame. "But her flower brings us good fortune."
To be continued.....
While sailing to England from my home, a sugar cane plantation in the Caribbean, my ship was attacked by pirates and I was taken captive. I was first sodomized by the pirate captain and then lashed to a canon and taken at will by the crew. I was forced to endure every man's cock in my bum and mouth, and left without toilet.
The only condolence was that my virginity had been made strictly taboo. As rough, vulgar, and crude as the pirates were, they obeyed orders to the letter for fear of their own torture and death.
At first I had hoped to be ransomed back to my wealthy family, but I learned that it was not to be. It was too risky, almost certain capture to attempt a trade of money for a hostage, when the market offered cash and no troubles.
We sailed for two weeks, and made port somewhere in what I concluded was Brazil. Before we landed, I was washed with water and harsh brushes, the kind used to scrub the decks. Then I was wrapped in a blanket and taken to a place called the Fish Lodge.
The Fish Lodge was a foul place, where men were sold as slaves and women to the brothels. The women were displayed stark naked, in public auction. Sebastian, the cruel foreman of the lodge, would grope the poor girls all over their naked bodies, lifting and cupping their breasts, swatting their stomachs, and showing the crowd the most intimate details. He turns one girl away from the crowd and parts her soft buttocks. "Take a look as this pretty little pooper," he said. "The wench was hidding it all to herself under these soft pillows... it's tight and juicy, good for years of service to the wise buyer...."Strange men step up to the girl and take turns pinching, poking, and inspecting her. But I am not put onto the auction stand. Rather, a special arrangement has been made to give a private showing to the Madame of the largest and most infamous brothel in Rio, Mme de Treval.
I am surprised that she is not Braziallian, but apparently French. She is assisted by anther french woman who comands me to lift up my arm."Madame wants a good look at you..."
"Mmmm ... not bad at all. She's young and of good blood. We can get a premium price and a good few years' service out of her..."
"She's too thin, Mme."
"Yes, perhaps," said the Madame. "But her flower brings us good fortune."
To be continued.....
CAPTURED BY PIRATES, PART ONE
I'm sure there was nothing actually sexy about being captured by pirates. But ever since I was young, I had more of a romantic idea of pirates, perhaps from the movies. Perhaps the real pirates of long ago were terrifying, but to me they are handsome actors in ruffled shirts and tall leather leather boots. And there is something very sexy about the idea of being taken, used by swashbucklers on the high seas.
In my fantasy, I am a daughter of a wealthy sugar cane plantation owner. Having turned of proper age, I am to board a ship back to England, where I will live with relatives and finish my schooling, and my parents hope, be introduced to the right eligible young men of upper class society.
My ship is attacked by pirates before we even clear the Caribbean. I am taken prisoner, bound by hands and feet. By the custom of the sea, I am handed over first to the pirates' captain.
"Please be kind, Sir," I beg him.
"Don't fret, lass," he says. He looks over my naked body, and runs his coarse, calloused hands over my soft skin. He cups my small, firm breasts in his hand and squeezes, as if testing the freshness of a fruit. Then his hand brushes over the small patch of my curls. Then without warning, he inserts his finger inside me. He pokes at me and then withdraws, and inspects his finger. "You are a virgin, then?" he says.
I nod. My father has forbade me to interact with any of the local boys, as they are not of my class and lineage, as he claims.
"Now be calm," the Captain whispered into my ear as he laid me onto his bed, still naked and bound. "Your virginhood will be safe and sound 'til we reach the market. But your other two holes will be given due use 'til then! You should count yourself lucky, my beauty, a virgin fetches a very fine price in this parts, and so you are valuable to me in that state. Otherwise, you would be burden ... Now just relax and give me your arse. I'll provide your virgin brown hole a pirate education."
Without further word, the captain sodomizes me on his berth. It is painful and I am terrified about his mention of the market, where men are sold as slaves and women to the service of the brothels. I had hoped to be protected for ransom, but the chances of that seem less likely as the ship sails due course farther and farther from my home.
The captain uses me for a week, then he turns me over to the crew as a reward for their bravery in the attack on my ship. My ankles are lashed to the wheels of a canon, and then I am bent over the barrel of the canon, and my wrists tied to the other two wheels.
The captain has passed on the strict orders that under penatly of a keel haul, no one is to deflower me. My already violated ass, though, is fair game. As is my mouth. The men line up by rank, and take turns ramming their cocks in my bum, while some force me to take their members into my mouth. Some return a second and third time. Some, impatient for their turn, jack off, spraying their cum in my hair and on my back. "Please ... stop ... I can't take any more!" I cry as one pirate pulls out his spent cock and another steps up to ram his into my ass.
"Can't take any more?" says the pirate behind me, "You'd be surprised how much you can take, miss."
After a long day, my body is covered in semen. It soaks my hair, drips from my chin, oozes out of my ass. I have been raped from dawn until dusk, and I assume I will be unbound and allowed to clean up.
I am sadly mistaken. Water is poured down my throat and I am told to swallow or spit. I try to swallow as much of the water as I can, knowing that another day in the exposed sun will surely burn and dehydrate me.
I am left alone in the moonlight. I wonder what a pitiful sight I am. I realize I have not relieved myself all day, and finally, my body has relaxed enough to realize I have to urinate. There is no recourse. I dare not care over the one sentinel on watch for fear of what he may do in the cover of dark. So I have no choice but to left go, felling the warm trickle of piss run down my already cum-soaked legs.
To be continued....
I'm sure there was nothing actually sexy about being captured by pirates. But ever since I was young, I had more of a romantic idea of pirates, perhaps from the movies. Perhaps the real pirates of long ago were terrifying, but to me they are handsome actors in ruffled shirts and tall leather leather boots. And there is something very sexy about the idea of being taken, used by swashbucklers on the high seas.In my fantasy, I am a daughter of a wealthy sugar cane plantation owner. Having turned of proper age, I am to board a ship back to England, where I will live with relatives and finish my schooling, and my parents hope, be introduced to the right eligible young men of upper class society.
My ship is attacked by pirates before we even clear the Caribbean. I am taken prisoner, bound by hands and feet. By the custom of the sea, I am handed over first to the pirates' captain.
"Please be kind, Sir," I beg him.
"Don't fret, lass," he says. He looks over my naked body, and runs his coarse, calloused hands over my soft skin. He cups my small, firm breasts in his hand and squeezes, as if testing the freshness of a fruit. Then his hand brushes over the small patch of my curls. Then without warning, he inserts his finger inside me. He pokes at me and then withdraws, and inspects his finger. "You are a virgin, then?" he says.
I nod. My father has forbade me to interact with any of the local boys, as they are not of my class and lineage, as he claims.
"Now be calm," the Captain whispered into my ear as he laid me onto his bed, still naked and bound. "Your virginhood will be safe and sound 'til we reach the market. But your other two holes will be given due use 'til then! You should count yourself lucky, my beauty, a virgin fetches a very fine price in this parts, and so you are valuable to me in that state. Otherwise, you would be burden ... Now just relax and give me your arse. I'll provide your virgin brown hole a pirate education."
Without further word, the captain sodomizes me on his berth. It is painful and I am terrified about his mention of the market, where men are sold as slaves and women to the service of the brothels. I had hoped to be protected for ransom, but the chances of that seem less likely as the ship sails due course farther and farther from my home.
The captain uses me for a week, then he turns me over to the crew as a reward for their bravery in the attack on my ship. My ankles are lashed to the wheels of a canon, and then I am bent over the barrel of the canon, and my wrists tied to the other two wheels.
The captain has passed on the strict orders that under penatly of a keel haul, no one is to deflower me. My already violated ass, though, is fair game. As is my mouth. The men line up by rank, and take turns ramming their cocks in my bum, while some force me to take their members into my mouth. Some return a second and third time. Some, impatient for their turn, jack off, spraying their cum in my hair and on my back. "Please ... stop ... I can't take any more!" I cry as one pirate pulls out his spent cock and another steps up to ram his into my ass.
"Can't take any more?" says the pirate behind me, "You'd be surprised how much you can take, miss."
After a long day, my body is covered in semen. It soaks my hair, drips from my chin, oozes out of my ass. I have been raped from dawn until dusk, and I assume I will be unbound and allowed to clean up.
I am sadly mistaken. Water is poured down my throat and I am told to swallow or spit. I try to swallow as much of the water as I can, knowing that another day in the exposed sun will surely burn and dehydrate me.
I am left alone in the moonlight. I wonder what a pitiful sight I am. I realize I have not relieved myself all day, and finally, my body has relaxed enough to realize I have to urinate. There is no recourse. I dare not care over the one sentinel on watch for fear of what he may do in the cover of dark. So I have no choice but to left go, felling the warm trickle of piss run down my already cum-soaked legs.
To be continued....
WHAT SHE WANTED
Camping with Colette
One summer in college, I worked on a dude ranch in the Rockie Mountains. Most of the guests were families with kids, or wealthy men who came for the world-class fly fishing. I was a wrangle, in charge of the horses and giving trail rides, and sometimes taking the kids out for an overnight campfire. It was pretty fun work, but long hard hours, little pay, working alone a lot, and not having anyone else my age.
That changed for the one week Colette came to visit. She came with her two older brothers, a sibling retreat. They were in their early 40s, big bulky men with the beginnings of male pattern baldness and the middle-age paunch. They were stock brokers or investment bankers, and this was the late 90s, and times were good. They had decided to come West for a couple weeks to fish. They invited their sister, Colette, who was 34, a psychologist, now living in Southern California.
The first few days, I took the three of them trail riding. I liked them ok, but being a hired hand for the summer, and a college student, it wasn't like we were best buds. Colette was cute, in a way, but she was at least 12 years older than me, and at that age, that was so far beyond comprehension. When I was in high school as a sophomore, I dated a senior, two years older than me, and that was a big deal. Even just two years at that age meant a gap in growing up references like music and movies. I couldn't possibly imagine getting involved with Colette. 12 years older just seemed wrong. She had gone to grad school, started a career, bought a condo. I was still getting meals at the student union.
After the first couple days, the two brothers were saddle sore, and decided they had no more interest in horse riding and just wanted to be packed into the high country for a week of fly fishing. I hitched their gear to a couple pack mules and we all headed up into the high country. It takes almost a day to ride in, but it's worth it. The brothers could be alone in Wind River wilderness, just them, a campfire, and fishing rods. We dropped them off with food, but they would also catch fresh brook trout for their meals. For them, it was going to be perfect. In fact, they'd pulled out a bottle of scotch and were passing it back and forth. They invited me to imbibe.
By the time we set up camp, we were all pretty hammered. The evening was starting to fall, and I had to head back. I made sure they had everything, and turned to go, when Colette decided she wanted to come back to the ranch, too. She told her brothers that they deserved a "guys" week to fish, and that she, a horse lover as a little girl, would be much happier doing daily trail rides.
Everyone seemed fine with the new plan, so I saddled her horse and the two of us headed back toward the ranch.
Night began to fall. To ride in the moonlight was nothing new for me. My horse picked the trail sure-footed. Colette was pretty tired, though, and a bit drunk. She wanted to stop and make camp for the night. I explained that I should get us back to the ranch, but she argued that since she and her brothers were the only guests, did it really matter if we returned at midnight or in the morning? I was about to tell her, it really wasn't a problem, but before I could explain, she leaned over a kissed me. Maybe it was the whisky buzz, or the moonlight, or romance of horses and the open West, but suddenly I was very attracted to Colette.
We dismounted and hobbled our horses. I made camp and she unrolled her sleeping bag. I built us a nice campfire. We both crawled into her sleeping bag. We kissed more. And then, without having to say anything, we both stripped off our clothes at once.
We made love under the stars by firelight. In the morning, we made love again by the smoldering ashes. I got up to pee and rekindle the fire. Standing naked in the wilderness, skin salty with dried sweat. My cock long and large from making love, coated in a mix of our juices now dry. It felt very primitive, raw, earthy and sexual. I walked to the edge of camp, but in plain sight of her, pissed. My pale urine spattered on a rock. I watched the rock turn color with the wetness. Colette got up, her legs bowed and wobbly from horse riding and sex. She walked up toward me, and if to say that she was just a rugged as me, she squatted and pissed on a rock. She let herself drip dry and shook off the last drops. It shocked me how open she was in front of me. But in the rising heat of the summer morning, the insects humming in the air, and the horses grazing in the distance, it seemed perfectly natural.
I should have been hungry and hung-over, but being in the fresh air, and the excitement of sex with someone for the first time, I felt purely alive. In fact, I don't know if I have ever felt so good, so completely alive on the planet. We walked to a small lake and skinny dipped, and then warmed up in the sun. We kissed in the lake. We lay out on the sandy bank, and I watched the water dry in her golden curls. I rolled over and put my face between her legs, inhaled the musky scent and began to lick her. I had given college girlfriends oral sex, but this felt so much more sexual. Colette lay on her back in the sand. Her arms and legs spread eagle in the sun, as I sucked and slurped at her swollen sex. She knew just what she wanted, she'd hold her labia open with her fingers and grind her clit onto my chin and tip of my nose as my tongue thrust inside her. As she climaxed, she grabbed my hair and forced my face to her cunt as she spasmed.
She acted like a woman starved for sex. As soon as she finished cumming, she flipped me over and took me into her mouth. My college girlfriends never gave great head. They tended to lick like a lollipop and when they did take me into their mouth, scrape me with their teeth. Not Colette. She knew exactly what she was doing and sucked every drop of cum from the very core of my balls up through my hard stiff cock.
That day is a blur. I can't recall what order we did what in. I know we fucked and then swam and then fucked. My cock was never fully soft before she was ready for more. We were both sunburned, sandy, sore. Drymouth, hungover, hungry, and feeling like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, the only man with the only woman, naked in the wildreness, with nothing else to do but fulfill every bodily urge.
We did 69 on the shore. I took her from behind on her knees. She rode me, bouncing up and down on my cock as she pinched her swollen nipples. She had no inhibition. I had never been fucked so hard or so freely.
We napped in the shade, on her sleeping bag.
At one point I got up to pee again. Right when I was about to let loose a stream, she slipped up behind me, wrapped her arms around me and held my cock. "Let me help," she said. And the first, and only time in my life, a woman held my penis as I peed. She said she loved to feel my cock as the liquid went through, that it was something she could never feel as a woman. I wondered how many of her older boyfriends she'd done this with, but I tried to block those thoughts. It didn't matter. It was just her and me and she was giving me a sexual education of a lifetime.
She tapped my cock to shake it out, and her warm hands and their motion made my cock grow again to hardness. She stroked very slowly as first, as my erection grew. I could feel her pubic curls pressing behind me into my bare buttock. It felt new and exciting to have a woman behind me, her hand slowly pumping my cock and pushing her pelvis as if to hump me from behind. Then I felt one of her hands reach down between us. She rubbed her clit for a while, moaning into the back of my neck. I began to get more excited, thinking maybe she'd stroke me and touch her self and make us both cum at the same time. I didn't realize she was just wetting her finger.
I felt it circling and then gently pressing into my butt. Mentalyy I was shocked. No one had every done that before, and being shocked and uncertain, I wasn't sure it I liked it, but my body was way ahead of me. My cock sprang to full erection. Waves of pleasure surged through my body. She held me, pressed her bare breasts against my bare back. Her right hand firmly wrapped around my cock and her left handslowly sliding her finger into my ass. The sun beat down, the birds chirped. The water in the brook burbled. I couldn't believe I was standing fully naked in a mountain meadow, with a naked woman pressed up behind me, slowly masturbating me and fingerfucking my ass. It was too much, a sensation overload, and as she stroked my cock in time with the thrusts of her fingers, I shot my wad through the air and onto the rock.
She gently slipped her fingers out and we walked, naked, back to our camp.
We knew we would have to go eventually, so we started to pack up. I loved watching her bend over to grab something. Her labia was rosy and swollen from all our sex. Her breasts were large and natural. Her hair was dyed blonde, and the roots showed, and it was something I'd first noticed about her and thought looked fake. I realized in Southern California, her hair and makeup was just part of the culture there; but here in the mountains, without makeup, her hair tangled and wild, she was truly a beautiful woman.
When we saddled the horses, I took her from behind. Pulled down her pants to her knees and opened mine. My cock was hard again, ready to rise to more sex. I thrust it at her like a greek satyr. Her body still wet from excitement and cum, but she stopped me, and said that she was simply too sore. My heart sank, and the disappointment almost turned to anger, until I felt her take my hard shaft and direct it slightly up. She pushed her hips back.
I didn't know what she was doing. It seemed like I wasn't in the right spot and not even penetrating her. I couldn't really tell what was happening, other than she was pushing and I was pushing and we were trying to have sex, but it wasn't working. Then the tip of my cock popped into her. It was held by the tight muscles of her ass, and I realized, finally, what she was trying to do. I'd never had anal sex before. I'd tried it once with a college girlfriend, but we'd only gotten it in a little before she asked me to stop.
Colette wasn't asking to stop, but asking me to do deeper, harder. Apparently, she loved anal, and I had been to inexperienced to even consider trying it. She wiggled her butt back, forcing my cock deeper into her as she leaned forward on the saddle. The horse, a trained cowboy horse, didn't even blink. I loved it. She leaned against the horse as I shoved my cock up her ass. She loved it too and begged me for more, harder, faster.
I fucked her hard and fast, as she wanted, shot my cum deep in her ass, and then buckled up. She looked at me in a dizzy daze. Her knees were weak, and I helped her hitch up her pants and climb up on her horse.
Our ride down the mountain was quiet. The hangovers, the hunger, the lack of sleep, it all started hitting us as we slowly descended. We were happy, and sore, and at least I was euphoric in my newly discovered sex ed. But there was an unmistakable melancholy in the air. We both knew she'd go back to her career; I'd return to college. I wasn't going to drop out of school senior year to live in her condo in Southern California anymore than she was going to quit her private practice to live in my dorm.
But we had a few days before she and her brothers would leave. We had the horses, the trails, the mountains. We would fuck every possible moment together, in this hyper-romantic setting, in the hay loft of the barn, in the meadow by the creek. We would enjoy every possible second, knowing it would never be this way again.
That changed for the one week Colette came to visit. She came with her two older brothers, a sibling retreat. They were in their early 40s, big bulky men with the beginnings of male pattern baldness and the middle-age paunch. They were stock brokers or investment bankers, and this was the late 90s, and times were good. They had decided to come West for a couple weeks to fish. They invited their sister, Colette, who was 34, a psychologist, now living in Southern California.
The first few days, I took the three of them trail riding. I liked them ok, but being a hired hand for the summer, and a college student, it wasn't like we were best buds. Colette was cute, in a way, but she was at least 12 years older than me, and at that age, that was so far beyond comprehension. When I was in high school as a sophomore, I dated a senior, two years older than me, and that was a big deal. Even just two years at that age meant a gap in growing up references like music and movies. I couldn't possibly imagine getting involved with Colette. 12 years older just seemed wrong. She had gone to grad school, started a career, bought a condo. I was still getting meals at the student union.
After the first couple days, the two brothers were saddle sore, and decided they had no more interest in horse riding and just wanted to be packed into the high country for a week of fly fishing. I hitched their gear to a couple pack mules and we all headed up into the high country. It takes almost a day to ride in, but it's worth it. The brothers could be alone in Wind River wilderness, just them, a campfire, and fishing rods. We dropped them off with food, but they would also catch fresh brook trout for their meals. For them, it was going to be perfect. In fact, they'd pulled out a bottle of scotch and were passing it back and forth. They invited me to imbibe.
By the time we set up camp, we were all pretty hammered. The evening was starting to fall, and I had to head back. I made sure they had everything, and turned to go, when Colette decided she wanted to come back to the ranch, too. She told her brothers that they deserved a "guys" week to fish, and that she, a horse lover as a little girl, would be much happier doing daily trail rides.
Everyone seemed fine with the new plan, so I saddled her horse and the two of us headed back toward the ranch.
Night began to fall. To ride in the moonlight was nothing new for me. My horse picked the trail sure-footed. Colette was pretty tired, though, and a bit drunk. She wanted to stop and make camp for the night. I explained that I should get us back to the ranch, but she argued that since she and her brothers were the only guests, did it really matter if we returned at midnight or in the morning? I was about to tell her, it really wasn't a problem, but before I could explain, she leaned over a kissed me. Maybe it was the whisky buzz, or the moonlight, or romance of horses and the open West, but suddenly I was very attracted to Colette.
We dismounted and hobbled our horses. I made camp and she unrolled her sleeping bag. I built us a nice campfire. We both crawled into her sleeping bag. We kissed more. And then, without having to say anything, we both stripped off our clothes at once.
We made love under the stars by firelight. In the morning, we made love again by the smoldering ashes. I got up to pee and rekindle the fire. Standing naked in the wilderness, skin salty with dried sweat. My cock long and large from making love, coated in a mix of our juices now dry. It felt very primitive, raw, earthy and sexual. I walked to the edge of camp, but in plain sight of her, pissed. My pale urine spattered on a rock. I watched the rock turn color with the wetness. Colette got up, her legs bowed and wobbly from horse riding and sex. She walked up toward me, and if to say that she was just a rugged as me, she squatted and pissed on a rock. She let herself drip dry and shook off the last drops. It shocked me how open she was in front of me. But in the rising heat of the summer morning, the insects humming in the air, and the horses grazing in the distance, it seemed perfectly natural.
I should have been hungry and hung-over, but being in the fresh air, and the excitement of sex with someone for the first time, I felt purely alive. In fact, I don't know if I have ever felt so good, so completely alive on the planet. We walked to a small lake and skinny dipped, and then warmed up in the sun. We kissed in the lake. We lay out on the sandy bank, and I watched the water dry in her golden curls. I rolled over and put my face between her legs, inhaled the musky scent and began to lick her. I had given college girlfriends oral sex, but this felt so much more sexual. Colette lay on her back in the sand. Her arms and legs spread eagle in the sun, as I sucked and slurped at her swollen sex. She knew just what she wanted, she'd hold her labia open with her fingers and grind her clit onto my chin and tip of my nose as my tongue thrust inside her. As she climaxed, she grabbed my hair and forced my face to her cunt as she spasmed.
She acted like a woman starved for sex. As soon as she finished cumming, she flipped me over and took me into her mouth. My college girlfriends never gave great head. They tended to lick like a lollipop and when they did take me into their mouth, scrape me with their teeth. Not Colette. She knew exactly what she was doing and sucked every drop of cum from the very core of my balls up through my hard stiff cock.
That day is a blur. I can't recall what order we did what in. I know we fucked and then swam and then fucked. My cock was never fully soft before she was ready for more. We were both sunburned, sandy, sore. Drymouth, hungover, hungry, and feeling like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, the only man with the only woman, naked in the wildreness, with nothing else to do but fulfill every bodily urge.
We did 69 on the shore. I took her from behind on her knees. She rode me, bouncing up and down on my cock as she pinched her swollen nipples. She had no inhibition. I had never been fucked so hard or so freely.
We napped in the shade, on her sleeping bag.
At one point I got up to pee again. Right when I was about to let loose a stream, she slipped up behind me, wrapped her arms around me and held my cock. "Let me help," she said. And the first, and only time in my life, a woman held my penis as I peed. She said she loved to feel my cock as the liquid went through, that it was something she could never feel as a woman. I wondered how many of her older boyfriends she'd done this with, but I tried to block those thoughts. It didn't matter. It was just her and me and she was giving me a sexual education of a lifetime.
She tapped my cock to shake it out, and her warm hands and their motion made my cock grow again to hardness. She stroked very slowly as first, as my erection grew. I could feel her pubic curls pressing behind me into my bare buttock. It felt new and exciting to have a woman behind me, her hand slowly pumping my cock and pushing her pelvis as if to hump me from behind. Then I felt one of her hands reach down between us. She rubbed her clit for a while, moaning into the back of my neck. I began to get more excited, thinking maybe she'd stroke me and touch her self and make us both cum at the same time. I didn't realize she was just wetting her finger.
I felt it circling and then gently pressing into my butt. Mentalyy I was shocked. No one had every done that before, and being shocked and uncertain, I wasn't sure it I liked it, but my body was way ahead of me. My cock sprang to full erection. Waves of pleasure surged through my body. She held me, pressed her bare breasts against my bare back. Her right hand firmly wrapped around my cock and her left handslowly sliding her finger into my ass. The sun beat down, the birds chirped. The water in the brook burbled. I couldn't believe I was standing fully naked in a mountain meadow, with a naked woman pressed up behind me, slowly masturbating me and fingerfucking my ass. It was too much, a sensation overload, and as she stroked my cock in time with the thrusts of her fingers, I shot my wad through the air and onto the rock.
She gently slipped her fingers out and we walked, naked, back to our camp.
We knew we would have to go eventually, so we started to pack up. I loved watching her bend over to grab something. Her labia was rosy and swollen from all our sex. Her breasts were large and natural. Her hair was dyed blonde, and the roots showed, and it was something I'd first noticed about her and thought looked fake. I realized in Southern California, her hair and makeup was just part of the culture there; but here in the mountains, without makeup, her hair tangled and wild, she was truly a beautiful woman.
When we saddled the horses, I took her from behind. Pulled down her pants to her knees and opened mine. My cock was hard again, ready to rise to more sex. I thrust it at her like a greek satyr. Her body still wet from excitement and cum, but she stopped me, and said that she was simply too sore. My heart sank, and the disappointment almost turned to anger, until I felt her take my hard shaft and direct it slightly up. She pushed her hips back.
I didn't know what she was doing. It seemed like I wasn't in the right spot and not even penetrating her. I couldn't really tell what was happening, other than she was pushing and I was pushing and we were trying to have sex, but it wasn't working. Then the tip of my cock popped into her. It was held by the tight muscles of her ass, and I realized, finally, what she was trying to do. I'd never had anal sex before. I'd tried it once with a college girlfriend, but we'd only gotten it in a little before she asked me to stop.
Colette wasn't asking to stop, but asking me to do deeper, harder. Apparently, she loved anal, and I had been to inexperienced to even consider trying it. She wiggled her butt back, forcing my cock deeper into her as she leaned forward on the saddle. The horse, a trained cowboy horse, didn't even blink. I loved it. She leaned against the horse as I shoved my cock up her ass. She loved it too and begged me for more, harder, faster.
I fucked her hard and fast, as she wanted, shot my cum deep in her ass, and then buckled up. She looked at me in a dizzy daze. Her knees were weak, and I helped her hitch up her pants and climb up on her horse.
Our ride down the mountain was quiet. The hangovers, the hunger, the lack of sleep, it all started hitting us as we slowly descended. We were happy, and sore, and at least I was euphoric in my newly discovered sex ed. But there was an unmistakable melancholy in the air. We both knew she'd go back to her career; I'd return to college. I wasn't going to drop out of school senior year to live in her condo in Southern California anymore than she was going to quit her private practice to live in my dorm.
But we had a few days before she and her brothers would leave. We had the horses, the trails, the mountains. We would fuck every possible moment together, in this hyper-romantic setting, in the hay loft of the barn, in the meadow by the creek. We would enjoy every possible second, knowing it would never be this way again.
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