Camping Again

My name is Sue, and my husband always tells me how much he loves me as I bring him his mug of coffee in the morning. When he's home on his days off, he spends much of his time fiddling around here and there and often would come up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist and pull me back against him, holding me snugly. I really love that. He's a good man, and I do my best to show him how much I love and appreciate him. He's sixty-two now, I'm in my late fifties, and I love my life with him.

Late last summer, my husband got the big idea that we should go to our local mountains and do some camping. I, on the other hand, was very hesitant to even consider it because neither of us had ever gone camping before.

Well, Nick (that's my husband) got some wild hair up his butt about it and was determined that we should go and experience the great outdoors. For a while, I was upset, but I had always endeavored to make him happy, so this time was no exception, and we went camping. And by the time we were packed up and ready to head home, I could hardly wait for our next camping trip. Let me share my story, and you'll understand why.

My husband had become one of those devout Christian men after we had been married for a spell. I did my best to support him as a good wife should, but I wasn't nearly as dedicated. I say devout... Well, sort of. Let me explain. My husband has always been a slender-built guy at about five foot ten and around a hundred and seventy or seventy-five pounds. He can handle himself for the most part, and physically, he looks well-built and strong. He's no fem, and he definitely walks with a very masculine stride.

My husband is just a city boy at heart and not the "Hunter killer" type he resembles. Despite his lack of killer instinct, I do love him dearly nonetheless. He's no slouch. All that being what it is, he's found a great deal of comfort and support in the church. There, he's very much accepted as he is and, indeed, seems to be thriving in that setting amongst the other men.

Nick and I have been married for well over thirty years. We've been happy, and I've been very comfortable with our marriage. He's a good man and has provided for our family quite well, I must admit, and things have been great. But just as with every marriage, there have been bumps along the way, some have been rather large. Together, we have overcome the vast majority of problems and pressed on with our lives. Save one thing: his intimacy issues. Nick is a premature ejaculator and a rather meat and potatoes type of lover. To his credit, his balls are huge, and his penis is just this side of seven inches, yet rather thick, but for some reason, he's very self-conscious about himself when around other men. As if he didn't measure up, I really don't get why. Although I suspect his anxiety stems from his inability to last more than a few minutes before cuming. Embracing this was never a major concern for me.

Though I've never really had any complaints myself, he's always managed to fuck me sufficiently. I've tried to reassure him that his performance has always been more than adequate. But yet... When it comes to sex, he and I have had to learn to satisfy each other in many other ways besides full penetration.

When a man has a problem with cuming too fast, there's a tendency to put off penetrative sex till after the woman has been brought to orgasm, hopefully several times. It's been this way for many years with us. Needless to say, I have an arsenal of dildos to satisfy my needs for thicker, longer, and prolonged pleasuring.

Nevertheless, there have been times when I have longed for the sustained pleasuring of a man that could fuck me proper. I've tried to hide those desires, but I would soon learn that I had failed miserably in that regard.

For a couple of months leading up to our trip, Nick had been seeing a therapist for his sexual anxiety. For the most part, this was his idea, though I was requested to attend an office visit once or twice. As a measure of his condition, my husband began to explore his sexual hang-ups to confront any latent fears of adventurous explorations. In lay terms, my husband began watching tons of porn, which went against his rigid religious practices.

I didn't mind it at all, for once, I didn't feel so guilty for having an overactive sexual imagination, but one could argue I was now guilty of encouraging him a little.

As a part of his therapy, he and I discussed some very sexual ideas, and we confronted some of our biggest sexual roadblocks. Through this, I learned a lot about his inner fears related to me.

I never knew how profoundly afraid he was that I would leave him for another man over his sexual performance and his perceived lack thereof. Though I had indeed fantasized about getting fucked by other men, I never really considered leaving him for one. We spent many hours in bed talking things through. Again, I would learn a lot about his sexual proclivities and interests.

As my husband worked through his issues, we explored new sexual ideas and acts. Interestingly enough, my willingness to do things in bed began to encourage him to explore things he was afraid to attempt for various reasons, some religious, some that he just felt I would think ill of him for suggesting. As a result, we were enjoying his exploration together.

I don't know why I didn't connect the two things, but it would turn out that going camping was simply a part of a grander fantasy that he decided to make real. I was being set up by him to cheat, as it were, unbeknownst to me. And I took the bait, believing I was simply taking advantage of the situation he put me into. My church-going husband was turning to the dark side, and I didn't even know it.

But I would come to revel in his newfound deviance in due time.

So, over several weeks, my husband put together our camping expedition. He looked into the full, "Out in the wilderness" option and decided it to be too involved a project just to gear up for it. So, as an easier alternative, he began searching for suitable campgrounds to accommodate our novice adventure level.

Following the general advice of a rather erudite coworker, Nick googled two campgrounds recommended by him. I was a bit surprised that he didn't seek advice from his church brothers at first, as some of them were avid campers. However, it wasn't until after the fact that I understood why he hadn't.

Before too long, the date was set, and I was requested to request a long weekend for the end of September. At this point, I still wasn't fully sold on the trip, but I knew this would go a long way to helping him in his therapeutic endeavors. And I was all for that. Besides, I had already thought about what fun we could have getting horny and playful out in the woods.

The weeks came and went, and soon it was the night before. Nick pushed me to hit the sheets early, so I spent most of that night reading in bed before falling asleep. But once I finally shut my eyes, I was seemingly awakened instantly by the way-too-early alarm. As I cleared my head and struggled to rise, I noticed that Nick was already up and running.

He had gathered the supplies and gear and was in the process of loading the truck.

I made sure to remind him not to forget any of my things, as I knew he was very excited and had already grumbled about stuff he couldn't find. But as the sun broke over the mountains in the distance, we were loaded for bear and, pulling out of the driveway, headed out for our very first camping trip. He was very excited, and I guess I was as well, to a certain point.

As we ventured across the long miles to our destination, we stopped now and again at rest areas and eateries. As we climbed higher into the mountains, I was taken aback by the beauty of the forests that surrounded us; they were quite beautiful. By late afternoon, we were pulling up to the main gates. As we passed through, I happened to notice that I didn't notice any kids in the other vehicles ahead or behind us.

I shrugged it off and didn't give it a second thought. As we casually drove the winding road through the grounds, I watched as we passed RV sites that seemed to be mostly full, I wondered where it was that we were going. Nick bought a really nice tent, so I already knew he didn't have an RV waiting for us. We seemed to be heading deeper into the woods, and I was a bit concerned, albeit excited. But soon enough, through the trees, I started to see tents and campsites.

Pulling into a more rustic-looking campsite, I saw that there were many tents scattered among the trees. None so close as to say we would have neighbors, but I didn't get the feeling of being so alone. I felt a little relieved at that. Still, our lot was at the far end of the site and, as yet, was pretty out of the way.

As we drove in, I did notice some buildings set back in the trees; I assumed they were bathrooms and possibly showers. Later, while exploring a bit, I would discover my assumptions to be correct. But my little adventure exploring the grounds around our tent would also reveal some very naughty aspects of camping.

Our site was a few dozen yards from the lake's edge; it was a large lake, and we were situated on the far side of it from the main gate. Most of the paths were lit pretty well for the most part, but all the best lighting was around the central fire pits at the center of the site, the lights around the bathrooms were adequate, while the shower building sat just a bit further back into the trees and the path lighting was a bit less adequate. Nonetheless, I was encouraged by things thus far.

After using the bathroom and having a bit of a look around, I noticed how the footpaths around the campsite branched off in many directions. And if I looked through the trees hard enough, I could see those big concrete picnic tables nestled among them, almost hidden. After a bit more exploring, I returned to our site to help Nick set up the tent and other things.

Soon, we were both sitting and having a drink. We were greeted by passers-by, and everyone seemed to be very friendly, although I couldn't help getting the feeling that I was missing something. As the sun got lower in the sky, Nick and I decided to walk around and get the lay of the land together and see where things were situated before it got too dark.

We happened upon another couple, and we said hi, and they greeted us back as well. We all stood there on the path and talked for a bit, getting to know a little bit about each other. They were a very nice couple in their late forties, and they seemed to be very friendly.

As they headed back to the campsites, we decided to walk back with them and continue talking. It seemed that they were repeat visitors, and we told them this was our very first visit. We all ended up at their tent, and they treated us to a few beers and some wine coolers. Oddly, during our conversation, I got the impression that they were trying to figure something out, they asked questions like, "Have you ever visited the other campgrounds?" which was an odd but not so odd question, I guess. Nick seemed to have the right answers mostly, but I still wondered if I was missing the point on something. Either way, our little visit with them was fun, and I really liked meeting them.

But as we were about to head back to our tent, the woman casually suggested to me discretely that if I couldn't sleep, I could take the path we met them on up to the showers, that it would help me relax. I thanked her for the tip and walked with Nick back to our tent.

Late into that evening, as Nick and I lay on the mat, the warm air and woodsy solitude were indeed keeping me awake, and all I could do was run our conversation with that couple over and over in my head. As well, I couldn't help but think about things that my husband said. Things just seemed a little too cryptic for me to relax as my curiosity was peeked. So, as Nick snored like a bear, I slipped out of the tent and headed up the path as she suggested. The night air was warm, but the slight breeze felt really nice. And even though I could hear the voices of the other campers off in the distance, I felt like I was pretty much as alone as I could be.

Slowly, the shower building came into view, and I noticed other campers hanging around at the picnic tables, mostly men, and I began to question my need for a shower. As I approached the building, I noticed that the men's entrance was on the front-facing side, and the sign pointed to the back as to where the women's entrance was. As I walked around, I could hear the water running and some voices, as well as some very familiar nonverbal sounds. As I walk in, I come around that little brick wall meant to keep people from seeing directly into the showers. There in front of me are a couple of long benches and some hooks on the walls for towels and such. Just across are the group showers. But curiously, there was yet another brick wall at the end of those showers, and around that were four individual showers, I assumed for shy women.

Standing by the bench, I saw some clothes there, and I could hear voices in those back showers. I still felt some apprehension, but I hung my towel, slipped out of my clothes, and walked around the wall. I was both relieved and surprised to see that woman again in one of the showers with yet another woman.

It took her a second to recognize me, but soon, she was greeting me with open arms and inviting me to join her under the water. Before I knew it, I was getting pulled in and soaped up. As I got over my awkwardness, I realized how nice it felt as they ran their hands over my body, lathering me.

They didn't ask or hesitate to touch me, they just went right in and soaped me down. And it didn't take long for my apparent horniness to engulf me, and soon I found my own hands soaping the bodies of the other two women in turn. These ladies were very curvy and voluptuous, soft and fleshy. I massaged their breasts as they did mine, and I parted my legs as I felt someone's hand slip between my thighs. I couldn't resist it, and as I felt that warm wet hand on my pussy I moaned audibly to my surprise. I'm no model, yet I, too, am slender but curvy and somewhat voluptuous in my own right. Not being as young as them, I still felt like I could hold my own in their company.

The two ladies and I huddled under that shower together and giggled our way to several fingered orgasms. I had never envisioned myself ever doing anything of the sort; it wasn't that I was opposed or afraid, I just never really considered I would allow myself to enjoy anything sexual with another woman, let alone two.

After we rinsed off and walked out to the benches to dry ourselves, the ladies and I watched each other dress. Being the last to towel down, Sally and Brin decide to grab my bra and panties and toss them to the floor.

"Yeah, you won't be needing those tonight, sweetie," Brin Said with a naughty grin.

Not being concerned about it, I just shrugged "Ok." After all, I had just fingered the pussies of two women as they did the same to me, going without my bra and panties seemed inconsequential at that moment. So I slipped on my tank and little shorts, and we exited the showers together.

Once we emerged, I was reminded that our side faced the woods, and it seemed much darker than the men's side of the building. Sticking tight to my new friends, I walked with Sally and Brin up one of the paths that led away from the main camping area and the showers. The farther out we walked, the more sparse the lamp poles seemed to be spaced, but the ladies seemed to know where they were going, so I just tagged along.

After a few minutes of strolling the paths, I turned to look down at the main camping area. We had walked a considerable distance, and yet I could see that there were many campers still milling about at the later hour that it was, and with their flashlights, I could see them on the upper paths among the trees. I knew the hour was late, likely well past midnight, so I was indeed curious as to what the deal was with so many others out on the little paths.

We had walked past two or three of the big concrete picnic tables, seemingly heading somewhere they knew. And before long, we walked up to yet another table. There was one lamp post just a few feet away, and it provided just enough light to illuminate the table and a few feet around us in a dim but warm glow.

Sally, Brin, and I sit, and for a moment, they are silent but grinning at one another. I could definitely feel I was missing something.

"What?" I said, trying to get let in on the joke. They just giggled at me. Then Sally asked me something that kinda made me question my husband's sanity.

"You do know it's an adults-only campsite, right?"

After what the three of us had just done to one another, I just answered, "Yes, of course, I do," knowing I didn't have any idea until then.

I thought I had just had an exceptionally random encounter, but I began to realize that people were here to have these encounters intentionally. Holding onto my naïveté, I sat and listened to Sally and Brin go on about things, and for the next ten or twelve minutes, they opened my eyes to what my husband had gotten me into, whether he intended to or not. Needless to say, I was a bit angry at him but also very aroused and horny at finding myself in such a situation and in such a place as this. My mind was definitely spinning with the possibilities of opportunity.

As I sat there enthralled by their words, I hadn't noticed the four men as they approached us from another trail. As they walked along the path slowly just a few feet from us, they all looked in our direction with big smiles. We all exchanged pleasantries as they stopped to talk with us.

Sally and Brin invited them to sit, and my mind just froze. I couldn't say a word as one of them sat next to me. Knowing now what they were out looking for, I knew I was about to be forced to make a really big choice. All those years of wanting to get fucked proper by a man who could last long enough to do so had just sat down right next to me. But could I let one of these men just fuck me like that? I was indeed in a really tantalizing predicament. I felt my body start to tremble with an anxious but hesitant horniness.

The boys took up spots next to us on the bench. I was sitting on the side nearest the path next to Brin, one guy sat in between me and Brin with his buddy taking a seat just the other side of me, straddling the bench and sandwiching me in between. The oldest of them stood at the end of the table while his buddy sat next to Sally, straddling the bench facing her. Things were moving along rather swimmingly, and I just sat there watching and listening to them converse and flirt. I didn't know what to say, and I was definitely a little more than apprehensive about the whole situation, but otherwise, I was still very aware of the boy's intentions. As I sat there, I couldn't help but be left in suspense as to how things would get started.

Watching my two lady friends, I see how they begin to flirt more with body language than words. Sally was leaning in the direction of the guy next to her at times and almost encouraging him to lean into her as well, and he did. Soon, he had his hand on her lower back and was caressing her from her shoulders down to her hips and thighs. The older guy sat on the edge of the table and leaned in Brin's direction, making small talk as his buddy, who was sitting next to her, had his hand on her lower back and started to casually caress her as well. Not to be left out, the guy sitting to my left took a cue and rested his right hand on my shoulder while leaning in to join in the banter. But I still sat quietly and smiled as they urged me to join in.

After a bit, as I turned to Sally, I attempted to join in the flirty talk, feeling emboldened by sheer horniness. Sally just gives me a little smile and a wink, then in one motion, she turns to the guy next to her and kisses him passionately. And that was all it took. The casual bantering suddenly stopped, and we all watched for a moment as Sally and her stranger made out.