A Quiet Wee Camping

I decided the only way I was going to finish writing my book was to take time off work and spend a few weeks at a seaside camping resort a day's drive from home, in a neighbouring state. It was a naturist resort which I had been to previously with my wife, but now she could not get away from her job and, as it was early spring, not yet warm enough for the resort to be busy, I thought I would have enough seclusion to concentrate on writing.

On the drive down it was cold and wet, the forecast for the next week was not good, which did not worry me as I knew the resort had a comfortable lounge with a wood burning fireplace and although I would be camping I would spend most of my time working inside, cooking my meals in the camp kitchen.

For the first few days it was windy and wet weather. The view from the dunes over the sea was spectacular, squalls and clouds sweeping in from out to sea, and waves breaking on the offshore reefs. Plenty of time to settle down to write after a morning walk. As the weather started to clear my morning walks across the dunes became more pleasant, warm enough in the shelter of the dunes to go naked, and on a still day warm enough for a bracing swim in the brilliant clear blue-green sea and a walk along the deserted beach of white sand, feeling as if this beach belonged to me.

The resort was a strict naturist resort, and any overt sexual conduct was frowned upon and could lead to expulsion. So while I tried to get some sun for my early spring tan around the camp site, it was only on my long walks that I could let my mind stray to thinking about my wife and her relationship with her boss, which I suspected but did not know for sure had gone beyond the flirtation I had witnessed. Her boss had big powerful hands, and who knows what else that I did not, and I could easily imagine him with a hand in her knickers, to her obvious enjoyment. Thinking about what they might be doing gave me an erection as I walked, and lying in the sun in the shelter of the dunes, out of sight, the warmth of the sun on my cock and on my body made masturbation something special. Followed by a swim to wash away the sand and cum, I felt restored and ready to return to work on my book.

There were usually only one or two other people at happy hour each day, and often I was alone for lunch. This particular day was cool so I was dressed while sitting indoors, having my usual light lunch when a woman came into the lounge, wearing only a towelling poncho, and shivering from the cold. She was a day visitor and had been out walking. The day was blustery and overcast, but she was new to naturism and was determined to see the property and walk as much of the dunes and beach as she could. We chatted for a while and she asked a lot of questions about the resort.

I could see she was cold, and mentioned that the spa was the best way to warm up. She clearly did not want to strip off with me sitting there clothed, and when she asked me if I would join her in the spa I felt a bit awkward but said OK. As I stripped off she asked me how old I was, and I said let's just say '60s'. I'm guessing she was in her 30s. She told me I looked good for my age, and I told her she looked trim and in good shape too, though she had obviously filled out a bit after having children.

As I followed her into the spa she looked directly at my cock and said that this was the first time she had seen a penis other than her husband's. We sat in the spa beside each other a suitable distance apart and enjoyed the warmth. Her body was good, nice breasts and her mound and pubes were invitingly close under water. As much as I wanted to touch her, I was worried that someone could come in at any time. She asked me how I avoid getting an erection, and I laughed, saying 'I just think about something else'. She asked about my wife, and if we have sex with other people. I said, 'not generally'. My gaze kept returning to her crotch and, when my hand lightly brushed her thigh she noticeably quivered. She moved a little closer and reached for my cock, but I moved away, saying 'would you like to see my camp?' She told me her husband was due to pick her up soon, but yes, she thought she had enough time.

We dried off, and I got back into my clothes, relieved that I would not need to hide my erection, and she threw on her towelling poncho. The tension as we walked down the track to my campsite was unbearable. Her mobile phone rang, startling me. It was her husband. She said 'I'm walking back from the beach, see you in the car park in about 20 minutes'. When we reached my campsite she motioned to follow me into the tent. I stepped out of my jeans, quickly tidied my tent, sweeping away the used tissues from my morning masturbation, and as I turned and lay on my side she pushed me over on my back and straddled me, squashing my hardon against her pubes.

No need to take off her poncho, I had barely got my hands up inside it to cup her breasts when she reached down between her legs to guide my cock, which slipped into her already-wet pussy, and before I knew it she was fingering her clit and humping my cock like there was no tomorrow. I fondled her breasts and tweaked her nipples while I tried to control my cock but she clenched her cunt around me and spasmed before I had time to cum. Like nothing I had experienced with my wife, except one time, but that's another story. I was still hard, embedded to the hilt, as she lay down panting on top of me, her breasts squashed against my chest.

I put my arms around her, starting to hump her from underneath, and said, 'I'm going to cum'. She just said 'OK' and whimpered as the sound of my cock squelching in her cunt sent me over the edge and I came inside her, both of us breathing hard. There was no time to lie around, so I took her by the hand and we quickly showered in the communal showers before she set off down the track to the car park to join her husband, without looking back.

I did not see her again, but finished my book inspired by our brief meeting. The book has been rejected by several publishers and the unpublished manuscript is still sitting on my desk at home. My wife took some time off to join me a few days later, and as we made love in my tent she asked, 'Have you been using a new kind of soap?' I'm sure she noticed the woman's scent, but I said 'It must be the shampoo from the shower block', before I pushed my cock deep into her and came, thinking of that fleeting encounter.