Lust in the Wilderness

As happens at some point in time to almost all good authors, Roz was experiencing "writer's block." She had published a number of erotic tales in years past, ranging from poems, to short stories, to three novels. However, the last year she was having real difficulty improvising the type of genitals-stimulating sagas that had made her famous. Well, at least made her pen name -- Kissmeass -- famous.

Roz was someone who felt comfortable only in familiar situations; and she was too shy and withdrawn to publish under her real name. However, as "Kissme," as she was known by her fans, she was as adventurous and provocative as one could be without getting arrested. While she had had her share of sexual exploits in her forty eight years, she had never actually experienced most of the varied sexual ventures her female characters encountered. She often wondered if she ever would engage in some of the acts she so salaciously described in her manuscripts if confronted with the possibilities in real life.

She was apprehensive about the start of her day. She had a morning meeting with Will Scarlet (yes that really is his name), her agent, at his office in Stratford-on-Avon, about as far as she was willing to travel from her home in Northampton. She knew he was growing tired of her excuses for why she was only on chapter one of a contracted-for novel due in two months. She really couldn't afford to return the advance she had received, but was coming up dry when contemplating how to proceed.

Roz brushed her silken brown mane, ending just before her shoulders, so that every hair was in place, put on light blue eye-shadow to highlight her azure eyes, and put on her most stylish work dress. When everything was in place she took a deep breath and went off to Will's office.

When she got to her agent's office her trepidation increased. Sitting on a couch next to Will's desk was Peter Timmons, the vice-president of the publishing company that had contracted for her new novel.

"Roz, do you remember Peter Timmons?" Will asked as Roz entered his office and a tall handsome man stood up from the couch.

"Of course I do. How nice to see you again Mr. Timmons," Roz apprehensively replied.

"Is he here to cancel my contract and demand return of the advance?" flashed through her mind.

"Please, Roz -- or should I call you 'Kissme'," (laughter all around) "call me Peter. I really am pleased to see you are agerasia."

"Wow -- that's a £50 word I haven't hear since University. So nice of you to say that I look young for my age, Peter -- but actually I've put on a few pounds and I'm feeling a little dowdy." At 5'8" and about 125 pounds, Roz was far from dowdy, but her self-image was not at its high point.

"Now don't deflect a compliment, Roz," Will chimed in.

After some more pleasantries and small talk they got down to business.

"I can sense anxiety on your part about me being here, Roz," Peter said. "I know you have had difficulty in churning out another of your deliciously bawdy tales. My opinion, though, is that your writer's block just shows that you hold yourself to a high standard, and won't turn out garbage just to meet a deadline. I'm here to tell you that not only will we be patient, but I have an idea on how to energize you."

Her facial expression changing from one of unease to one of delight Roz replied "Thank you, Peter; I'm all ears."

"Well, my nephew, Andrew, is the director of a company that specializes in unorthodox adventures. The journeys they plan are perfect for someone whose mind needs a real escape," Peter continued.

"Wow; I never thought of that," Roz exclaimed. "Go on, Peter."

"Well unless you have some relationship or obligation that would preclude it, we'd be willing to foot the bill for you to go on one of their three week expeditions. One is scheduled to start in ten days. If you agree we'll extend the due date for your book by three months."

"You'll really pay for my trip?" Roz queried.

"We look on it as an investment. We're quite confident that you'll produce your best work ever."

Roz needed the extension no matter what; and time away from constantly agonizing over her writer's block could only help even if it meant springing out of her comfort zone for three weeks. After a few moments of silence while Roz tried to recover from the shock of what she feared would be a very bad situation turning into an extremely interesting one she smiled broadly and responded "What can I say, Peter. I'm very grateful. I don't have a significant other at this time and I certainly can put my affairs in order in the next ten days to get ready for a three week quest. How do I get details?"

The next day Roz met with Andrew at his office in Warwick, only 13 km from Stratford. Andrew was easy to recognize -- he just as easily could have been Peter's 23 year old son as his nephew. He was even taller and better looking than Peter, had an endearing demeanor, and was very fit. "How could he not be fit," Roz mused trying to distract her from an attraction she was sure all women felt toward him "if he leads groups on treks."

While Roz was pleased to meet Andrew and with her time extension, she had something new to worry about when she found out that the expedition would be to wilderness areas in the province of Quebec, Canada. That was way out of her comfort zone.

Andrew could sense consternation on her part about the upcoming "adventure" and tried the best he could to put her at ease. He told her that he and a female guide were both very experienced, that emergency services were always readily within reach, and that while the trip would be physically taxing -- necessary to allow the participants to clear their minds -- it was not a "boot camp." He provided her with a list of the only items and clothing she should bring with, and recommended that in the nine days before they left to start an exercise regime that he laid out for her.

Roz found that following Andrew's recommendations exactly was a good way for her to calm her nerves and after a few days of exercise more strenuous than she was used to she was able to sleep better and was less anxious.

All participants in the expedition flew from England to Montreal together. In addition to Andrew and Roz there were: Arabella, a fairly well known 18 year old 6' tall fashion model who was succumbing to the stress inherent in her profession; Cole, a 35 year old hedge fund manager who had the same problem as Arabella; Alistair, a 20 year old Cambridge drop-out from a noble and wealthy family who was told by his father to "get his act together" or get disinherited; Darcy, a 28 year old professional tennis player who was trying to recover mentally from physical injuries he had dealt with for the last few years; and Rowan, a 29 year old solicitor who had been wrongly accused of murdering his girl friend, and now that he was fully exonerated when someone else confessed just as his well-publicized trial was starting, needed to clear his head. In Montreal they would meet up with Michelle, a 26 year old Canadian wilderness guide. All were single.

Andrew's optimism and gregariousness rubbed off on the group, and despite their diverse backgrounds they seemed to develop good chemistry just in the time in the airport before the flight, and during the approximately six hours they were in the air.

Seemingly always looking for a reason to be insecure Roz quickly noticed that she was the oldest participant by far; and she was taken aback by the physical attractiveness of all of the others, who she (wrongly) considered much more comely than herself. However she was very pleased that her age and appearance didn't seem to matter at all to anyone else. It seemed that each participant had made up his or her mind that they would get everything out of this trip that they could hope for, and knew that attitude was one of the most important keys to success.

Michelle greeted them at the airport -- she was obviously as affable as Andrew as she smiled warmly and gave everyone a big hug. Her toned athletic body including shapely muscled legs completely exposed by her very short shorts, sparkling eyes, symmetrical face, and button nose were clearly appreciated by all the male participants. Michelle piled all eight of them, and their gear, into a van, and they immediately set out for the Quebec wilderness.

While it was a wilderness trip the food and sleeping accommodations were actually not bad, especially since it was the warmest time of the year in Quebec. Andrew and Michelle were both exceptionally strong, and easily carried cooking equipment and a three day supply of good food for everyone, and the group was re-supplied by pontoon plane whenever they ran out. Also, Andrew and Michelle were experts at manually pumping up micron-thin air mattresses that each participant carried in his or her backpack, and there were enough cabins, lean-tos and caves along the way that if there was inclement weather they could take refuge at night.

Within two days Roz -- and likely all of the rest of the participants -- had completely left their problems, anxieties, or manias behind. The physical demands of the trip meant that everyone slept like logs, and the conviviality of the group only increased from day to day. Neither Arabella nor Darcy were the least bit pretentious, Alistair never mentioned or acted like he was from nobility, and everyone else was seemingly just interested in being as pleasant as possible.

The trip took a turn in direction after the first re-supply, undoubtedly due in part to the well-known fact that intense physical exercise enhances libido. About 2 p.m. the group came upon a picturesque waterfall surrounded by smooth rocks, and splashing into a crystal clear pool, on the afternoon of the hottest day of the year. Before anyone knew it Arabella had shed all of her clothes and was in mid-dive. After an initial shock Alistair, Rowan, and Cole followed her lead. As the buff quartet splashed and giggled in the pool below Darcy, Michelle, and Andrew looked at each other, smiled, shook their heads, stripped, and Darcy and Michelle mimicked their predecessors.

A naked Andrew stayed behind and turned to face Roz. "Come on Roz, join us; you'll have great fun," Andrew pleaded. Roz wanted to reply, but all she could do was stare at Andrew's cock. It was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen in her life; and though not hard, it was twitching. Finally after hearing "Roz, Roz, are you there?" she snapped out of it and choked out "OK, I don't want to be a fly in the ointment." She removed her top, and once Andrew was sure she would join them, he dove in too, laughing in mid-air, landing right next to Michelle, and playfully pulling her under the water.

Much to her embarrassment as Roz undressed the rest of the group noticed she was the only one not in the water, and looked up at her. She bit her lip, removed her last remaining article of clothing, her panties, and jumped in giving everyone a good look at her tits and pussy.

Everyone splashed around doing the types of silly things naked people who had not yet had sexual relations with each other could be expected to do, with laughs, screams, and giggles filling the summer air. After about a half hour, members of the group started filing out and sat on the adjacent rocks, some in the sun, others in the shade. No one was in a hurry to get dressed; in fact Arabella, Michelle, Andrew and Cole all washed the clothes they had worn and laid them out on rocks to dry in the bright sunshine.

Having learned her lesson from her entrance not to be last, Roz got out as discretely as she could in the middle of the pack. As she walked up toward her clothes she could sense someone behind her, and turned to see Rowan trailing by a few meters, unabashedly ogling her ass. She pretended not to notice and picked up her sweat-drenched panties. Just as she was about to put them on, Rowan stopped her.

"Roz; could you do me a great favor and not put your panties on just yet?" Rowan queried. "You have the best ass I have ever seen in my entire life and I would really appreciate some time to peruse it a while longer." As Rowan gently removed her panties from her grip he continued, "Plus your panties are soaked with perspiration. Why don't we both wash our clothes like Andrew and Michelle did."

Roz was not only speechless she momentarily lost her ability to breathe. She looked up into Rowan's eyes which were burning holes through her head. Seeing him naked, she recognized for the first time that he was almost as muscular as Andrew, had a very nice half-hard dick, and that his gaze was intoxicating. She stammered for a few seconds trying to think of something -- anything -- to respond, without success. After what was for her an uncomfortable 30 seconds, Rowan smiled, diverted his stare, picked up his and her clothes, and while laughing said "Come on, I'll do the washing for you." He then jumped off the rock they were standing on into the water with all of their clothing in his arms.

Roz was sure she was going to faint, never having experienced anything close to this in its exhilarating effect before. Here she was, naked, in the middle of the wilderness, surrounded by beautiful people, and a handsome man 19 years her junior had just told her she had a fantastic ass. She jumped in after Rowan.

After all the washed clothes were dried, Andrew and Michelle suggested they find another location to camp for the night. From the very first day Andrew and Michelle didn't act like drill sergeants. They made suggestions, and gave reasons why. All the participants greatly respected both of them, and readily went along with whatever was suggested.

After a great dinner, a completely merry time around a campfire which included numerous flirty and gross jokes, told primarily by Arabella, Darcy and Alistair, and even a few stupid games, the group retired. Roz was not unaware that Rowan sat next to her during the meal and gave her playful pats and squeezes at various times throughout the evening. She told herself that it was just everyone having a good time, and indeed there was body contact by all of the members of the group. But it got her mind racing.

For the first time on the excursion she didn't immediately fall asleep as soon as her head hit the air pillow. Thoughts of her writer's block seemingly banished from her mind long ago, she was trying to come to grips with the emotions she felt. Constantly running through her mind was the thought of her sucking Andrew's cock, while holding onto Rowan's and Darcy's balls with her hands; and then being tied to a tree while Rowan approached her and buried his tool deep inside her. As she lay there wide awake, essentially working herself into a sexual frenzy, she heard stirring.

While the group was spread out widely, Roz was able to surreptitiously watch two figures sneak off into the woods, hand-in-hand, one of them carrying an air mattress. After establishing that everyone else -- at least those who could possibly see her -- was asleep, her curiosity got the best of her. She followed the figures into the woods. As she silently crept forward, she could hear low moaning in the distance.

As Roz turned past a large pine, there to her right, in a small clearing, were two naked figures on an air mattress. Her eyes having adjusted to the moonlight, Roz fairly quickly made out that it was Arabella and Alistair. "Not an unlikely pair," she said to herself. Her conscience told her that she wasn't a voyeur, and she should leave -- but in her sexually aroused state there was no way that she could.

She watched as Alistair ran his hands and mouth over every inch of Arabella's sleek body glistening in the moonlight, as she quietly moaned. Roz saw Alistair straddle her and bury his face in her cunt as she hungrily sucked his testicles into her mouth. As she started to orgasm and was on the verge of screaming, Alistair spun around, and kissed her deeply, muffling her cry. Then, once he was sure she had calmed down, he lay beside her, moved one of her long legs over him, and obviously penetrated her. They both moaned and grunted as they pulsed their hips toward and away from each other, interspersed with sucking sounds as Alistair periodically lowered his head and devoured one of her tits.

Roz was fascinated. She had never fucked in that position and was amazed at how erotic it looked. It wasn't long before they both were clearly in the throws of orgasm and Alistair was again pressing his lips against Arabella's to muffle both of their cries.

Once she was sure that Alistair had withdrawn from Arabella, and they were murmuring and giggling to each other, she stole away. When she got back to the camp sleeping area, two other bodies were missing, and she thought she heard a rustle in the woods to her left. Even more sexually charged than she was before, she followed the sounds. After a hundred meters or so she could see two figures in the moonlight, standing, removing clothing from each other, and emitting distinct kissing and sucking noises.

After a few minutes she was able to recognize the lovers. It was Andrew and Michelle. Even though she could not see their faces, there was no mistaking Andrew's tall, hard body, and since Michelle was the only other woman besides herself not "otherwise occupied" in had to be her.

Roz was gob smacked as Andrew picked Michelle up, she wrapped her legs around him, and she moaned as standing without support he obviously plunged that beautiful dick of his into her waiting pussy. After a little hip movement in that position, Andrew moved Michelle close to a tree. After a muffled exchange of words, Roz saw Michelle bend backwards, and partially support herself with her arms on the tree as her torso was virtually horizontal. Once she was supporting herself Andrew started pumping like an oil derrick. Somehow Michelle was able to pump back as Andrew periodically bent over and sucked one of her nipples.

Roz had to get a closer look. She silently moved behind a tree right next to where Andrew was standing. She got as good a look as she possibly could, given the lighting, at Andrew's fuck tool as it moved in and out of Michelle's restless soaking-wet pussy. She could feel her hormones ebbing inside her and moved her hand to her crotch. She dared not stick her hand inside her shorts, however, since the white-hot action she was witnessing would be sure to bring her to orgasm quickly and the ensuing noise would give her away.

It was actually fortunate, given Roz's state of arousal, that just as with the last two she had spied upon, Andrew and Michelle quickly climaxed. As they did Michelle did a "sit up" and smashed her lips into Andrew's as they continued to wiggle and twist their asses. This was Roz's cue to slink away again.

Roz decided to loop around when going back to camp. But she had gone no more than fifteen meters when someone grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth. Whispered into her ear was "Roz, this is Rowan. I only put my hand over your mouth so that you wouldn't scream as a result of unexpectedly encountering someone in the woods. I'm going to remove it now but don't make noise or we'll be exposed."

Roz nodded her head in agreement, and Rowan removed his hand. Without another word he grabbed her hand and led her in what appeared to be a long loop back toward the camp, and away from all four of the clandestine lovers. But when they were still a good hundred meters from camp, Rowan stopped and turned to face Roz. In the moonlight she saw desire on his face, and was regretting the aroused state her pussy was in from her dual voyeuristic encounters.

Rowan stroked Roz's silken brown hair as he gazed into her blue eyes. "You already know what I think of your ass," Rowan murmured. "But I find everything else about you overwhelmingly exhilarating too; I have to fuck you."