My Horny Housewife Harem

My Horny Housewife Harem

Part 10 of 16

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Carlos was a shy, fearful virgin when he enrolled in college. Then he met an older woman who made him a man. She also gave him some good advice: instead of looking for romance with clueless girls his age, seek out married women in sexless marriages. His horny housewife harem taught him the ways of erotic love.

All 16 chapters of this tale have been written and will be posted just as quickly as the good folks at Literotica can review them. Here in Part 10, Carlos learns the art of erotic photography.

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When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in our tent. Before I opened my eyes I was aware of the raucous sound of a loud chorus of birds that seemed to surround me. I'd love to have an alarm clock that sounded like those birds.

It felt as though I'd had the best sleep I could remember.

That made sense. Rita and I had a great workout on our hike yesterday. All that fresh air and sunshine made me feel alive. We'd had great sex - twice - and nothing is a better sleeping aid than a big, strong orgasm.

I realized that there's something special about sex in a tent. That's what I was thinking when I discovered I had a particularly hard morning boner. You might imagine that the fabulous sex I'd had yesterday would curb my appetite for more. In my experience, the opposite is true.

Hot sex makes me feel like a new man,

I thought to myself.

And the first thing that new man wants is more hot sex!

When I unzipped the tent flap and stepped outside, I saw Rita standing next to her camp stove. The sound of sizzling meat greeted my ears, and the aroma reminded me that I was hungry.

"Here. Coffee," Rita said, handing me a travel mug. It tasted better than anything you can buy in one of those fancy overpriced coffee shops. I realized that my short time camping in nature had sharpened my senses. I looked around at the trees and realized the world looked beautiful in a way I'd never noticed before.

So did Rita. She looked lovely as she grilled a big, thick steak in a massive iron skillet. I watched as she cracked a half-dozen eggs and put them next to the steak. Rita was dressed in another pair of shorts cut so low it exposed her belly button and several inches of smooth skin, including the pretty dimples on the lower back. It was cut so high it revealed the bottom edge of her sexy butt cheeks.

She wore another one of her snug halter tops. It made her big, bubbly breasts look fabulous without looking slutty. Her long, blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked at me and smiled so sweetly that it made me feel an overwhelming sense of happiness that we were together enjoying such a wonderful morning.

"How's the coffee?" she asked.

"Perfect. Thanks for making it," I replied. "And thanks for making this breakfast. It looks great and smells even better. I'm sorry I didn't wake up early enough to help."

"You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you," Rita said. "It was kind of nice having a few minutes to myself. I spent the time thinking about how good it is to be camping again, especially with you. Besides, it gave me a chance to have a cigarette by myself. I know you hate cigarette smoke. Carlos, I'm making a real effort not to smoke in front of you. It's hard."

"Don't worry about it. I can handle a little smoke," I said. I realized that I wouldn't be able to stand it if she smoked inside the tent, but as long as we were outdoors it was tolerable.

"By the way. When I woke up I felt something the size of a telephone pole poking me in the ass. Do you always get that hard in the morning?"

"I always wake up with morning wood," I said. "But this morning was special. I had a tough time zipping up my pants."

"I guess the outdoors is good for you," Rita said.

"Yeah. I'm sure that's true," I said. "But I think it's mainly because I slept next to a very sexy, very naked woman. It gave me something nice to dream about."

As we talked, I realized that I enjoyed watching Rita as she went through the motions of preparing our breakfast. I fetched my camera and began taking photos.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking pictures of the most beautiful short-order chef west of the Mississippi," I said.

She laughed. "You have the nicest way of expressing yourself. It just never ends. Have I mentioned that you make me feel better about myself?"

"You may have said something like that once or twice," I replied.

"Feel free to keep doing it," she said.

Rita finished preparing our meal. She served the food on paper plates, and we ate with disposable knives and forks. "One thing I remember about camping is that the food tastes so much better," she said.

"I can confirm that," I said. Steak and eggs are a great breakfast under any circumstances, but it seemed like a feast when served on our little picnic table in the open air. It tasted so good that I had to force myself to eat it slowly and savor every bite.

"Would you like to know about today's agenda?" Rita asked.

"It's very convenient traveling with a tour guide," I said. "I assume we're going on another hike."

"Yes, but not right away," Rita said. "We can't hike anywhere with such a big breakfast in our belly. That would be uncomfortable. I thought we could spend some time at the visitors' center. Our meal will start to digest while we're there."

"What's at the visitors' center?" I asked. I visualized a place with maps, brochures, and a lot of ads for things like restaurants near the park.

"I want to see the exhibits," Rita said. "I haven't been here for a long time, so I expect there will be some new displays. They'll be about the geology of the area. Types of trees in the forest. Wildlife. That kind of stuff. I used to think it was pretty boring when I was a kid, but I'm sure I'll appreciate it more now.

"There's one thing you need to know about. After we finish up at the visitor's center, I'd like for us to take a hike through a section of the park known as The Cathedral. It's the biggest reason this park exists. You'll find out why when you see it. As we go through the visitors' center, watch out for information about The Cathedral. It will help you appreciate what you see on our hike later."

We cleaned up after breakfast, packed our gear, then drove to the visitors' center. Rita said it was in a much bigger building than the one she remembered, and that the exhibits were different. As she'd predicted, the displays talked about the park's natural features and its history.

It was all new information to me. I know nothing about geology. Wildlife. Forests. I'd never heard of this park before, so I knew nothing about its history.

The coolest thing we saw was a little 15-minute video that talked about how the park was created. The story started more than a century ago when timber companies cut down almost every large tree in the area. That was a bit of a shock to me. On yesterday's hike, I looked at the woods and imagined they'd been untouched for thousands of years. The truth was that we'd hiked through an area that once resembled the surface of the moon. It looks better now because in the 1930s an army of conservation workers replanted trees.

Although the woods looked nice, they still bore scars from the clearcutting era, and would never fully recover. Before Europeans arrived, the entire region was covered by a canopy forest. Almost all of the canopy was cut down, which allowed harsh sunlight to shine on the forest floor. The hot, drying effect of the sun killed the native plants and animals; most are now extinct. They were replaced with invasive species that could survive the harsh conditions.

But there was one area that was spared. Hundreds of acres of old-grown forest were never touched because they were located on such steep, rocky terrain that timber companies had a hard time building logging roads. As loggers methodically removed all the rest of the trees in the region, a few local people realized that if nothing was done, the lumber companies would eventually destroy it all.

That led to a frantic effort to preserve the area, which became a park just in time to protect the last large stand of old-growth forest left in the state. The historic old black-and-white pictures of the area showed that most of the place looked pretty ugly when the park came into existence, but more than a century of work had turned the place into a nice playground for families looking to pitch their tents, park their RVs, and enjoy something that reminded them of nature - even though it wasn't anything like it used to be.

Except in one place: The Cathedral. That was the area that was saved before timber companies could destroy it. Ironically, most park visitors never see The Cathedral. It is located on such harsh, steep terrain that few hikers have the skill and endurance to get there. I realized that yesterday's hike was Rita's way of preparing me for today's adventure in The Cathedral. That big breakfast was intended to provide the fuel needed to make the journey.

Clever girl, eh?

"So. Today we're going to The Cathedral, right?" I asked.

"That's correct," Rita said. "I've only been there once. I wasn't big and strong enough to hike that far the first few times my family camped here. I think I was about 14 when my Dad finally allowed me to go there with him. I have very nice memories of the place. I hope it's as beautiful as I remember."

There was only one way to find out. By the time we'd looked at all the exhibits, our meal had digested enough for us to start our hike. We had to park at a trailhead next to a dirt road that took us a long way from the more traveled roads in the park. We didn't see a single vehicle on that road, and we were the only ones who used the unpaved parking lot next to the trailhead. There was no cellphone coverage up there.

"Be extra careful on this hike," Rita says. "If one of us falls and becomes injured, the other will have to hike out and call for help. Some of the rocks are slippery. It's easy to lose your footing. This is a serious hike for serious hikers. OK?"

"I read you loud and clear, Ranger Rita," I said. "Thank you for arranging this. I'm looking forward to what we're about to do."

"I'm sure you'll love it," she said.

We started down the trail, which was much steeper than the one we'd done yesterday. It was rocky, and there were huge tree roots that threatened to trip us as we made our way forward. The trees were much bigger. Although I'd been impressed with the woods we'd hiked through before, I finally realized that most of those trees had trunks that were barely a foot in diameter. Some of these tree trunks were 10 feet wide. The canopy was much higher, and it did a better job shading the floor of the forest. There wasn't a single place where shafts of sunlight reached the ground.

The vegetation was different. It was denser, and I saw that it featured more ferns and other types of shade-loving plants that had been exterminated in the area we'd hiked previously. The exhibits in the visitors' center claimed the animal life was also more diverse, but all I saw were a few birds. The rest of the forest wildlife heard us stumbling down the trail, and they remained hidden until we passed.

The only problem with the hike was that we had to spend so much time looking down at our feet that we weren't able to look up at the glories above us. Rita had us take regular breaks to sip some water and take in the view.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" she asked.

"Never. Never in my life," I said.

"It gets better," she said.

We hiked deeper into The Cathedral, and eventually we reached a place where the trail ran along a ridge. We spent less time scrambling up and down steep hillsides, and more time soaking in the scenery. I took a few photographs along the way, but none of them captured the depth of the area's beauty.

It was discouraging. I'd studied camera technique long enough to know what a good photograph was supposed to look like, but I seldom managed to get one.

Once again, the passage of time seemed to vanish as we moved through the forest. I felt tired by the time we finally reached our destination. Rita took off her backpack when we got to a place where boulders the size of houses were scattered across what looked like the top of a hill. It was hard to tell how high we were. The forest was so dense it was impossible to see more than a few hundred feet in any direction.

"This is it. We're in the heart of The Cathedral," she said. "Let's get a little farther from the trail. I doubt that we'll see many other hikers, but I'd like to have some privacy as we rest here."

She found a flat spot behind the boulders, and then spread a big red picnic blanket on the ground. "What do you think, Carlos?" Rita asked. "Was it worth all the effort it took to get here?"

"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like this. I had no idea places like this existed," I said.

"There aren't many left," she said. "When I was a kid, I didn't understand why my parents liked camping so much. I was jealous of the kids who got to go to amusement parks and beach resorts. I had to grow up before I was mature enough to figure out why they brought me to places like this."

"Is this where you want to eat?" I asked.

"I had something else in mind," Rita said, pulling a tiny metal box from inside her backpack. "Carlos, would you share this with me? Please?"

Inside the box was a skinny marijuana cigarette. I had very little experience smoking weed. Although I didn't enjoy the sensation of inhaling harsh smoke into my lungs, I liked the way music sounded after the weed took effect. The Cathedral was already a magic place; I realized immediately that it would look even more enchanted after I smoked a joint.

Although I felt conflicted about Rita's regular use of marijuana, alcohol, and (especially) tobacco, I also thought that she'd picked a perfect spot to experience the effects of weed. I've read that lots of people think marijuana makes them more creative; maybe it would help me create better photographs.

"Sure, Rita. I'd love to share that with you," I said.

We reclined on the blanket and looked up at the forest canopy. Rita lit the little joint, inhaled a big puff, then handed it to me. We passed it back and forth until it was almost gone, and Rita put what was left back in her little metal box.

I felt the effects almost immediately. The canopy began to resemble an abstract painting by the artist Jackson Pollack. The trees looked impossibly tall. The soft, subtle background sounds of the forest seemed louder. More textured. Like a forest symphony.

"What do you think?" Rita asked.

"Wow. Just . . . wow," I said. "Words fail me. Everywhere I look I see amazing images."

"I'm glad you like it," she said.

"I love it," I replied.

We spent several minutes in silence, doing nothing but enjoying the sights and sounds of The Cathedral. At length, Rita raised leaned over and looked into my eyes. "I'm sure you remember that when we got to the park, I made you promise to give me your cock whenever I wanted," she said. "Carlos, I want it now. Right now." She reached over and began massaging the front of my pants.

My cock was soft, but it didn't stay that way long. I felt a sudden surge of lust that overwhelmed me. Rita unzipped my shorts and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of my boxers, touching me with her soft, warm hand. It felt intensely erotic, and it made me hard as iron.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" Rita asked, a coy expression on her face. We both knew it was a silly question. I pulled her to me and gave her a passionate, soulful kiss. I'd never enjoyed a kiss more. I loved the soft, yielding feel of her lips on mine, I loved her taste, and I loved the way her tongue slipped between my lips and began to explore.

I reached behind Rita's neck and untied her halter top. Her breasts looked larger. Softer. More inviting. She reached behind my head and pulled me toward her until my lips reached one nipple and my hand reached the other.

"Ohhhhhh . . . yes . . ."

she moaned softly.

"Keep doing that, baby. Keep doing that."

I don't remember how it happened, but somehow I managed to remove Rita's shorts, exposing her entire nude body to my eyes and hands. She was achingly lovely. Her long, flowing hair. Her expressive face. She placed one of my hands on top of her blond pussy, and she groaned when she felt my fingers dip into her wet slit. Rita's hand closed around my cock and began stroking it up and down, sending intense waves of pleasure through my entire body.

If I hadn't smoked the weed, I would have begun following the routine I'd developed for pleasing Rita in bed. I would have followed the step-by-step process for giving her the foreplay I knew she enjoyed, then I would have spent some time eating her pussy, and then I would have given her a long, relaxed session of missionary-style sex.

But none of that happened. I suddenly lacked the capacity for that kind of careful, thoughtful, conscious action. All I could do was respond to Rita's touch and touch her in return. I vaguely remember thinking that the forest floor was so covered with rocks and tree roots that it would hurt Rita's back if I got on top of her. That wasn't a problem, because Rita pushed me down on the blanket and straddled my torso, rubbing her warm, wet pussy against my hard aching cock.

She looked beautiful. Transcendently beautiful. I saw her nude body displayed against the background of the forest canopy, looking like a masterpiece of erotic art. It was easy to imagine she was a goddess of the forest, and The Cathedral was her temple.

It's literally true that Rita is the sexiest woman I've ever known. That's not an exaggeration. I've been fortunate to sleep with great beauties like Maria, and Taylor, and Lucy. But none of them matched the beauteous eroticism of my Rita. That was overpoweringly obvious as I looked at her through my freshly opened eyes. She was a precious gem displayed in a natural setting that complemented her pale blond assets.

She got us both nice and wet, then took my cock in hand and placed it at the entrance to her passage. I felt a surge of lust when her soft, warm hand wrapped about the shaft, and the head dipped into her moist portal.

"Yes, Carlos . . . yes,"

she moaned as she lowered her body until I was deep inside her.

Although I'd been in her tight pussy many times, it didn't feel the same. Something was different. It could have been the environment. It might have had something to do with the weed. For whatever reason, it was almost as if we were making love for the first time.

She went up and down slowly, and I savored the slick sensation as her velvet pussy gripped and massaged my member. In and out. In and out. I watched in awe as she staged a sexy performance for my eyes only. It was like an erotic ballet starring Rita as a naked ballerina.

Once again, I stopped being aware of the passage of time. I'm not sure how long we continued, but I don't think it was very long. In normal circumstances, I work hard to postpone my climax. All the time I'd spent with my harem of horny housewives taught me the importance of making sure I give every woman as much attention (and as many orgasms) as possible. They come to me for satisfaction, and I usually deliver it by giving them large servings of cock portioned out in long, satisfying sessions.

That's why I felt alarmed when I realized my orgasm had begun. Rita hadn't cum yet, and I didn't want to go soft before she climaxed. But I was helpless to do anything except experience the exquisite intensity of sensations as my cock began to throb and fill Rita with hot seed. I came again, and again, and again, shooting a volley of hot cum into her receptive pussy.

"Oh . . . oh . . . oh!!!!"

I cried, calling out so loudly it echoed through the forest. I don't usually make a lot of noise during sex, but I did this time. The experience was so overwhelming I had to express what I was feeling.