Out In The Sticks free porn video

“He’s just a tortured writer!”

That tone of sarcasm demanded a response.  Looking up, he silently mouthed the words to his younger sister.

‘Fuck off.’

The shock on her face amused him.

“Mum!”

The floor bounced as her elephant feet left the caravan.  He stared vacantly at the feint-lined page of his foolscap book.  Vanilla, luxurious, expensive, his cheap thoughts would sully it.  A restless need to expel surplus energy rose up from his feet.  Being sedentary did not agree with him; it always made his legs itch.  He exhaled loudly; another deep sigh in a day of many and he stared at the blank page.

The floor bounced, “Jack, are you sure you don’t want to come to Penarth Falls?”

Looking up, he feigned a picture of innocence, “Nah Mum, I’ve been four times in four years.  I’ll give it a miss this time.”

“Fine,” and she shrugged, “If you need anything there’s a tenner in the cupboard…”

“… I know, I know, in the gravy boat.”

He did not mean to sound so peevish and his mum knew that too, being a teenager, even at sixteen afforded him some leeway.

“Okay wise guy, just don’t burn the place down,” she paused to give him that look, “and no booze!”

He tutted and the floor bounced again.

The thrum from the car engine ebbed away leaving the trill of birdsong and occasional thuggish seagull.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Walking slowly, he showed everything he had, athletic, boyish good looks, slim-hipped, and smooth-skinned.  His wet tousled hair caught the sun, raven-black, and sparkled like polished jet stone.  Dropping down her sunglasses, the bulge in his tight speedos captivated her attention. 

Squeezing her hand, she leant in and whispered into her ear.  That brittle upmarket accent always made it sound so filthy.  A surreptitious hand wormed it way up her thigh and to the cleft of her behind.

Murmured desires opened her thighs a little wider, and a solitary finger breeched the taut fabric.  Hot, wet, she purred with delight.  This challenge would test all of her feminine wiles.  Impaling on her slender digit, it stirred her most lustful desires

“Show him,” her husband’s voice low with a hint of firmness; it always made her insides melt.

She rose, like a cat in a stretch, arms long, and legs bent at the knees.  Elevating her glorious rump, her back arched.  As a deliberate spectacle to attract her young quarry, it worked.  Rising, she straightened her back and stretched her arms in a mock yawn that threw her breasts forwards.

Through her sunglasses, she witnessed how his moonstruck eyes did not waver.  Impassive to the end of his glance, she did not flinch.

“Well done,” he whispered, “that did the trick.”

She purred in response, “So, do you dare me?”

There was a pause followed by laughter, deep and rumbling, “I do, consider yourself dared.”

Feeling the tingle in her loins, their ‘get away from it all’ holiday might become their most tawdry adventure yet.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Irritated by the blah-blah-blah on the radio, he sighed in frustration.  For an hour, his thoughts flowed effortlessly from pen to page.  Mentally blocked, frustration surged up inside his restless body.  Being alone not fun, he changed the station, and the jangling electric guitar suited his mood.

Three days into their annual holiday, this was torture.  Peace and quiet meant boredom and frustration; no television, no wi-fi, and barely a phone signal.  Every year they came here, out in the sticks, berthed in a large static caravan.  In two short rows, they looked out over the dramatic vista of the Welsh coastline. 

Perched on top of a short escarpment, he peered down at the caravans in front.  Each had a lawn alongside, enough space for sun loungers or a pitched tent.  Jack lingered and pitched his own tent - in his shorts. 

The object of his desire stood in the doorway of the caravan below.  Her wavy brunette hair shone off the high sun and rested on her shoulder blades today.  He struggled with why she cast a spell on him.  Watching her intently, he pondered if the isolation had driven him mad, or at the least, slightly defective.  She was the most attractive creature in this social wilderness. 

Stepping out, her stance upright, she curled her spine and stretched her arms in a ten-to-two pose.  Thrusting out her derriere, it tightened her shapely legs.  Probably in her mid-to-late thirties, she looked fabulous in that black bikini.  He grasped his erection through his shorts; the lack of privacy left it neglected. 

She turned, something her friend said amused her; a dazzling smile bared her bright white teeth. 

Jack admired her breasts, generous and full, the scant material provided little support.  Down her taut curves, he stared at the tight triangle of fabric at the confluence of her thighs.

Turning up the radio, he pulled his shorts down to his ankles.  In this first private moment for four days, he had to relieve himself.  Fat and engorged, his perineum tight, he began to stroke.  Fully erect and veiny, the violet head of his cock bulged. 

A loud pulsating guitar solo typified his mood; he needed to fuck - that would alleviate the boredom.  He wrestled with that thought, he needed to fuck regardless of being bored, happy, sad or excited. Stroking his cock, he closed his eyes.  In the realm of his fantasies, reality leeched away.  He would plunge his cock into her, fuck her senseless, and lose his virginity.  His load would be thick and copious; the box of tissues on the table would come in handy.

The floor bounced and his fantasy seized to a halt.  Instead, a cold deluge of panic surged through him.  His sister, the brat, left the caravan door wide open and heavy metal rampaged through the air.  Reaching for his shorts, he cursed his disconnected fingers and the stubborn garment.  Frantically, he pulled at his t-shirt and covered his modesty. 

“Hello.”  Bright, amused, her tone was not one to chide him.

“Jesus Christ!”

Expecting howls of protest, he waited for her vexed words of disgust.  Instead, she stood there with an unfamiliar smile on her pretty face.  That black bikini glistened in the dappled sunlight.  Frozen still, mouth drying in the air and eyes too wide for a bright summer’s day; he blinked and shame seared his skin. 

Her deep-green eyes twinkled, “Someone’s enjoying themselves.”

That ice-cold chill surged through his pounding chest.  Following her gaze, it did nothing to placate him.  If he could see the outline of his erect penis pressed against his t-shirt – so could she.

“I… I…” crumpled before her, he inhaled deeply and exhaled like the air escaping from a balloon, “I’m so sorry.”

Again, her eyes flicked between his groin and gammon-coloured face, “Don’t be sorry.”

Those three simple words did not register, “W… what?”

She tutted and stared at the radio.  Moving slowly, she leant over and tamed the guitar solo.  Staring at her breasts, two erect nipples poked against the wet-look fabric.  Caught in no-man’s land, he pleaded for his erection to deflate.  Revved up on arousal and fear, he never felt so helpless.

“There that’s better.”

She turned tail and he tried not to ogle her luscious behind.  The hypnotic swish of her hips defied his rational mind.  Out of sight, the tinny slam of the door signalled her departure.  Feeling the warm comfort of relief, he bargained with his embarrassment.  He would avoid her for the rest of the holiday, that seemed reasonable, and no more wanking over her too.

The floor bounced again, his sense of alarm returned, and he clutched at his t-shirt.  There she was, back in view, and hands on hips.  Fine lines crunched at the corner of her eyes and her feline cheeks dimpled with a smile.  It looked mischievous and it did nothing to ease his bewilderment.  It was too much to comprehend and decided that surrender would be the best option.

Raising an eyebrow, she gestured with a nod, “So?  What are we going to do with you?”

Still stunned, he offered a shrug, “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“No,” and she laughed, “but if you are going to do something like that, you should have closed the door.”

Shifting uncomfortably, his admonished eyes looked to the carpet, “Yeah, sorry.”

A sense of humiliation simmered inside him.

Still amused, her eyes continued to flick up and then down, “No girlfriend to take care of that?”

Jack shook his head.

“What?  Really?  Good looking lad like you?”  Her expression seemed to mock him, “Not old enough huh?”

It stung him and his humiliation frothed, he looked her in the eyes defiantly, “I’m sixteen!  I could if I wanted to.”

“But you haven’t though have you?” her tone deliberate and slightly mocking.

He shook his head, and kept his bubbling humiliation in check.

The idea of corrupting him crackled as electricity through her body, “So, Sweet Sixteen, what’s your name?”

“Jack.”  He swallowed and cleared his croaky throat.

“Well, I’m Emma.”

Flapping for words, Jack settled on something simple, “Hi...”

The pause hung uncomfortably in the muggy air.  His predicament amused her, “So do you get caught wanking a lot?”

Fidgeting, Jack shrugged, “No.”

She scanned his body and its overtness fuelled his shame.

“I saw you at the beach yesterday," she spoke softly with luscious rounded syllables, "I caught you looking at me several times.”

“Oh fuck,” he muttered.

Emma laughed, “Well, I admit, you did look good in those tight speedos, not a lot of room in those.”

It did nothing to tide the stem of blood to his face, still flustered, he grappled for words, “T…thanks.”

Biting her top lip, her stare lingered on his groin.  Her long, lithe limbs cut the air elegantly.  Arm bent and her elbow sharp, with a deft pull from behind her neck, the thin straps fell away.

They were there, unbundled and naked, tanned with the rest of her body.  He stared at their broad cups, full and juicy, each brown chunky nipple scrunched tight.  Perfectly sculpted to her body, they flared from her torso and complimented her broad shoulders and hips.  Unable to tear his eyes away, Emma smiled contently.

“You like these?”

She piled a deep sense of arousal on top of humiliation and shame.  He felt utterly powerless in front of the assertive woman that bested him.  Dumbstruck by lust, his edifice of concerns started to crumble.  The merciless pounding in his loins took him hostage.  He watched her toy with each puckered nipple between finger and thumb.  Unable to tear his eyes away; what held him enthralled felt so visceral and terrifying. 

Cupping them, her gaze locked onto his incredulous eyes, “Go on then, start wanking.”

Her tone, direct and assertive, did nothing to convince him, and he remained implacable.

She giggled, “It’s okay.  Don’t be shy, I want to see you.”

Jack spluttered and shook his head. 

His conflict amused her, clearly caught in two minds; it was time to pounce.  Undoing the string bows on her hips; she pulled the fabric away and threw it at him.  Wide-eyed, mouth open with surprise, Jack stared at her smooth mound and the cleft of her sex.  He took in the sight, her naked body before him.  Athletic curves would shame a woman half her age.  Living, breathing, smiling – a woman that wanted sex with him, right now.  Fused, it played in a loop over and over again.

“Oops,” Emma exclaimed playfully, “I’m all naked, here, with you… alone.”

Jack gulped.

“That’s it Jack, take a good look, I like it.”

He wanted to feel bored again, and then he wanted to feel excited.  That need returned, and the more he stared, strong hammer blows of lust pummelled his resistance.  The animal inside rushed forwards and compelled him to submit.  A powerful primal urge overwhelmed him, he never felt it before, and it felt so strong and determined.  He did not want to think anymore.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

 “What?”

“Pardon, not what,” her admonishment demanded his attention.  “Stand up.”

Wrestling with his shorts, he extracted himself from the table.  He rose and a fretful bag of nerves met her gaze.  One flick of her eyes and she would see his hard erection.  She moved two steps closer and he did not flinch.

A caress to his face distracted him and her lips grazed his.  Instinctively, he closed his eyes and the kiss stifled a whimper.

“Do that again Jack, mean it this time.”

He pressed his lips to hers and she prized his mouth with her tongue.  Interwoven limbs pressed their bodies tighter into an embrace.  To the accompaniment of his pounding chest, the soft birdsong grew quiet in the moment.  Rising in passion, her fingers teased a nipple and the kiss deepened.  Light-headed, he melted into her with more soft whimpers.  Stifling a gasp, his naked erection pressed against the delicate flare of her abdomen. 

Tugging at his t-shirt, he lifted his arms unquestioningly and the cool breeze soothed his body.  Her caress was almost as gentle. 

His expression looked so vulnerable and helpless.  Reticently, he leant in and kissed her.  Reciprocating with encouragement, he kissed well, if incongruous, it felt soft and steeped with tenderness.  She mused if it was just like his first.

She broke and pressed a solitary finger to his lips, “You’ve never been with a woman before have you?”

Stepping back, she admired his naked body, uncorrupted and box fresh.  Those slight pectorals, finely chiselled without the bulk of an older man.  Lean and vibrant, a symposium of tight sinews and compact muscles, he looked good naked.  She lingered on his offensive appendage; it made her body ache with need.  Staring at it, so thick and violent, she wanted to do more than complete a dare.

Nonchalantly, she looked into his timid eyes, “So you're a virgin?”

He shook his head solemnly and to reward his honesty, she captured his girth.  Startled, his gasp caressed her skin and she revelled in his surprise.  It felt so hot and unyielding, the perfect dimensions for a divorced mother of two.

The delicate squeeze of his caress and the rapture on his face eviscerated her.  He rolled an erect nipple between his fingers, and automatically, she eased out a soft gasp.  Looking to her for approval, she bit her top lip, nodded, and moaned.  The atmosphere crackled with tension, his nervousness felt endearing.  His attentiveness venerated her when so many men did not. 

Emma squeezed his erection, "You know, you have a magnificent cock.”

“Th.. Thank you.”

There it was, a smile, a relaxed happy smile; Emma giggled.

She squeezed his rigid penis again, “You should shave this, it would look even bigger.”

He nodded and mumbled in agreement.  Emma smiled knowingly, in this state, he would agree to anything.  His arm felt limp when she took his hand from her breast.  It tightened with a little resistance as she guided it to her naked mound. 

“It’s okay, touch it.”

He relented and cupped her sex.  He watched her pout and her eye narrow.  Their gaze never wavered as his fingers broke the seal.  They skidded on the slippery confection and his innocuous caress of her clitoris rose from her throat as a groan.

“Can you feel that hard button at the top?  Rub my juices over it, rub it gently.”

The tenderness of his touch belied his age.  Sensitive and aroused, it throbbed its pleasure into her abdomen.  Again, he found it, a deft caress and she groaned.

His nerves a distant memory, he found himself attuned to an unknown instinct.  His touch aroused her, she responded to everything he did.  The worry and concern of thousands of doubts crumbled away.  He felt a pang of something familiar – enjoyment. 

With rising confidence, he toyed with her nipples and clitoris.  Soft hands, a little clammy with nerves, explored her body with a featherlike caress.  Studying her reaction, one discovery after another became a sequence of events.  Inventive, he would tease and then reward.  Listening to the ebb and flow of her gasps and moans, he would make them louder or let them quieten.

Masturbated by a virgin, the notion ignited her insides.  Shuffling down a little, waves of tension tightened and eased.  The fire became a furnace as the pleasure intensified; the undulations of her hips matched her airy moans.

“Finger me.”

He obeyed without a second prompt.  One at first and she bore down on it.  The clamping sensation made him gasp with surprise.  Demanding another, the fill of them pushed her feet down firmly and her hips rocked to meet his touch. 

Grabbing his wrist, she manipulated his hand, “Just there, like that.”

He adapted quickly, the subtle caress of her clit and soft fingers grazing her sensitive walls; she capped each breath with a gasp.

So many combinations and Jack used them all, mouth, fingers, on her lips, her body, breasts and nipples.  Taken by his improvisation, he drew out stronger cries as that knotted ache grew.  Rising and falling like the white tops out to sea, her loins tightened and eased.  Leaning in, he kissed her boldly and its vacuum encouraged her tongue forward.  Deeper and deeper, their tongues danced.  Woozy with its power, this was how teenagers did it and he devoured her.

Reaching to his ominous girth, still fiercely hard, she needed it now.  Pushing him away, she took his fingers into her mouth.  The lewd display made the message was clear.  Pulling him in, he tasted the bittersweet juices of her tongue, his erection pressed against her abdomen.

“Sit there.”

Compliantly, he followed her gesture, and his majestic penis swayed.  He sat with his back to the bay window, a naked virgin against the backdrop of a sun-filled sky.  Torso blotchy with arousal, thighs open, balls tight and fierce erection proud, it was time to take his gift.

She pulled the table back and stood before him.  With one last look at his innocent body, everything would change for him now.  He would learn the pleasures of coitus and she would take his climax.  The moment, the sight of that tumescent length, and the look on his face brought a torrent of juices to her sex.

His eyes filled with hope and anticipation, she smiled warmly at Jack.  Playing with her hair, she draped it to rest over one shoulder.  Standing legs slightly apart, she placed her hands on her hips to reward his appreciative eyes.

Straddling him, she felt his trembling body, "Ready?" 

His hands roamed over her breasts and he nodded, "Yes."

“Look into my eyes.”

She reached behind and held him at the entrance.  Mouth half-opened, he moaned deeply as her enveloping heat embraced his girth.  Her eyes did not falter; neither did his expression of ecstasy.

A hot pillow warmth embraced his turgid shaft.  Erect for so long, he felt a little numb and his balls ached.  Pushing further, the heat rose, the cushion tightened and he groaned from the pit of his stomach.

Taken to its hilt, she gasped sharply, he felt deeply satisfying.  Squirming her hips, she enjoyed his response.

Cupping his head in her hands, she placed a soft kiss on his compliant lips, “There, how does it feel?”

“G…good, very good.”

“You are not a virgin anymore,” her voice soft, barely above a whisper.  “Try to last as long as you can, let me do all the work.”

Bathed in heat, she eased down a second time, and the sublime friction made him groan louder.  Feeding the tension at his core, she rose and pressed down again.  Time felt immaterial, his fears a distant memory, instead he felt an addiction to this new unfathomable pleasure.

Like riding a half-tamed stallion, she cantered slowly.  The assistance of gravity pressed his engorged length against the soft walls of her sex.  That hot thick muscle caressed every nerve ending in her labia, the walls of her sex, grazed her g-spot, and stopped just short of her cervix.  Riding him slowly, its perfect curve hit all the right places. 

Emma wondered how he might endure, a minute, maybe two, she might at any second feel a sudden lurch and his explosive ejaculation.  The thought of his youthful semen painting her insides removed the last of the friction.  She gripped his body against hers; his hands responded and squeezed her rump.

It did not matter if he climaxed quickly; this would be the entrée to a feast of many courses.  She would stiffen him easily and he would learn endurance - she would be his teacher.  From the spring in her thighs, she took him repeatedly and felt the pleasure of every fat inch.  He grunted so loudly that she pressed his face to her breasts.  Sucking on a sensitive nipple, she took him completely and ground against his prone body. 

“Feels good doesn’t it?” she offered tenderly.

“Uh huh.”

Rising again, she gasped, “You feel amazing.”

She pressed him back to her breast and he suckled it gently.  Tense in his loins, the ratchet of pressure clicked tighter with each thrust.  It pulsed through his loins and pooled there as the pressure swelled.  This was sex, slow, considerate and he sat there so alive that every vibrant sensation seared into his memory.    

Trapped beneath her, she changed her posture, and felt how she smeared her sex against his pubic bone.  The restraint of her body weighed on him moved only a few inches of his girth in and out of her body.  Her breasts squeezed between them as his fingers plucked with her nipples.  Hardwired to her hips, they rubbed against his lap with a rising fierceness.

Emma peered through the bay window and he was there, watching.  Her husband stood at the doorway to their caravan.  Quietly, not to rouse suspicion in Jack, she blew him a kiss.  The expression on her face spoke a thousand words and her husband smiled back.

Grinding against Jack’s bony hilt, her engorged clitoris pulsed.  He touched places that her husband never reached.  Only a short distance away, she locked her stare at him standing there.  Her hips flexed instinctively and the full draft of Jack’s length grazed everything.  Writhing, she pressed harder, rattling the coiled pressure loose.  The heat of his frantic moans caressed her clammy skin.  Beads of perspiration caught on her eyebrows dripped onto his seated body.

Quickening her pace, Jack felt so swollen, thicker than before.  She knew that moment well and Jack tried to tell her.  Still grinding on his entombed erection, she wanted him to burst.  Her husband would witness her climax and she quivered at the thought.  The deviant excesses of their relationship would create another explosive memory to share in their moments alone.  Exhausting Jack, her husband would be rampant and with the skill of an astute lover, he would give her the bone-shuddering orgasms she craved.

The swell of tension grew to new heights he never felt before.  This was not a lengthy act of self-pleasure; this was fucking and she determined the pace.  Rising, the compulsion to vent his climax made his muscles seize and tremble.  His legs stiffened and the tension radiated throughout his body.  Locked solid, he bucked to expel it.  The tight friction of her sex was too much and he felt it - the certainty of release.

He thrashed harder; his newfound strength forced her more determined response.  She clutched him tightly and used his body for leverage.

His breathing frantic, he croaked and stuttered for words, “I…I.. I’m gonna… gonna cum.”

Clenching his face to her breasts, she pressed down on his length and rapidly ground against him.

“Do it, do it.  I’m fixed, cum in my cunt.”

He groaned loudly and began to tremble in slow, tight tremors.  She always milked them this way, effortless pelvic thrusts that drained their first load.  Stifling his cries, her immolated sex gripped him tighter. 

 “Cum, cum inside me.”

Clutched to her body, he spasmed and groaned deeply.  He felt the sap rising as lava from trapped muscles.  Pressed tightly against her, he writhed and shook.  Rushing from him, he thrashed and felt it leave his body with a gruff wail.

Triggered by the first lunge of his penis, the coarse unwinding of her climax tightly massaged his quivering length.  He howled and grunted out each full spasm.  She felt them all, strong and hard, and added her chorus to the loud cacophony of sound. 

Through the ajar window, her husband caught their faint sobs carried on the soft breeze.

Blurry at first, her eyes focussed to see her husband; he grinned and raised his hand.  Returning to her charge, she cupped Jack’s face and kissed him longingly.  Weakly pulsing inside her, she softly caressed her sex against his body. 

Toying with his nipples, she admired the post-coital relief etched on his face.

“You enjoy that?” her breathing ragged, the words soft and hissed.

“Yes, yes, that was incredible.”

Her hips, slow and deliberate, caressed his half-flaccid penis inside her cum-filled sex.

“Do it again Jack, let me fuck you hard.  Fill me up some more.”

“What?  I don’t know if…”

Her lips against his, she kissed him with her open mouth.  Passionately, he responded as air whistled through their nostrils.  Tongues dancing, designed to enflame his ardour, she plucked at his nipples.  Relentlessly, she refused to let up until his length surged hard.

Giggling, his erect penis recovered rapidly, Jack’s head lolled to one side with a heavy groan.

“That’s it, good boy, now give me more spunk.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

‘Stag’, ‘Vixen’, these words held a new meaning.  Emma watched him expectantly, waiting on edge for his reaction.  Thoughtfully, Jack asked more questions and slowly, each answer became easier to understand.

Through late morning and beyond lunchtime, this is what they did.  Assertively, she struck her bargain, no-strings fucking, discretion, and her signal – the black bikini hanging on the washing line.  Jack readily agreed and she rewarded him by sucking his cock hard for another fuck.

She schooled him in sexual pleasure, four times she had him, four times he shot his sticky mess between her legs.  He gave her one orgasm after another, until one got him and took the semen from his balls.  Lost in the haze of post-coital relief, she revived him with her mouth for another fuck.  Three fucks to the good, she tortured him in a soixante-neuf and discovered his talent for eating pussy.

Each time they fucked, he held out for longer.  Each time, their sweat-soaked bodies skidded and writhed against each other until the inevitable conclusion.

Slowly, he wore her down with his vibrant energy.  Unable to rely on her strength, she used words.  Talking him through what she wanted, Jack responded easily.  She wanted a threesome, her husband watching as Jack fucked her until they came.  She gave herself to him, on her back, and from behind.  Sharing her sordid fantasies, it ramped up their fucking into a fierce missionary pounding and an intense climax for them both.

Hot, their skin and hair wet, they rested in the torpid atmosphere thick with the musk of sex.  Putting on her bikini, Jack sat and watched, muscles swollen with exertion.  His erection grew again as she dipped into her briefs to sample the taste of her sex.  Well-used, it throbbed with satisfaction, sticky with her juices and his essence.

She giggled “Open a few windows, you need to air the place.”

Jack smiled, “Yeah, my parents will be back at five-ish.”

Adjusting herself, she smiled back, “You were amazing, not so nervous now are you?”

He reciprocated, “No,” and looked a little crestfallen, “are you going?”

Emma stared back with a wicked glimmer in her eyes, “Even though we have a few hours, I’m not staying here.  I want you to do something for me though?”

“Oh?” he asked with interest.

“We need to shower, we stink of sex.”  She flashed a mischievous smile at him, “There’s no-one here, everyone will be out.  Why don’t we sneak into the shower block and wash each other down?”

They did and fought to contain their gasps and moans as they echoed off the tiles.  She surprised him with what she took from his room, nail scissors, shaving foam, and a razor.  He let her do it, an erotic act of depilation that left him fiercely hard, ready to go again.

She had to do it, knelt under the frothing water.  He pirouetted, hands out and elbowed locked, beneath him, her tongue soft and pointed.  Wet hands skidded over clean skin as she explored his tight perineum and heavy balls.  He yelped as the tip flicked over the knotted muscle of his behind. 

Reassured that her husband had gone fishing, Jack followed her back to her caravan.  Bundled through the front door, she pressed him against the wall and kissed him hungrily.

“Wait here; I have a surprise for you.”

Disappearing in the back, the main bedroom, Jack waited.  It served to heighten the anticipation and when she returned, it was to show him her body adorned in black lace, a full-length basque, suspenders, and lace-topped stockings. 

His body responded immediately, “Holy fuck!” he exclaimed as Emma walked seductively towards him.

“I thought you might need a little inspiration.  Besides, my bikini bottoms are soaked with all the spunk you shot up me.”

Pulling down his shorts, she admired his smooth, erect penis, bulky and thick.

“Mmm, you are inspired!  It looks so much better shaved.”

Taking it with her mouth, she looked up and he groaned loudly.  Her eyes never wavered as she slid her mouth up and down his rigid length.  Her hands worked his shaft and heavy balls.  Looking down, he lusted for more; sex would be his new hobby.  This holiday held much more promise than he ever imagined.  His hands, no longer nervous, ran through her mane sensuously as his hips fed his length into her.

She coughed a little, “Jack, Christ!  You’re so hard.”

He laughed.  Turning around, she pulled off her briefs and wiggled her behind.  He devoured the sight, the puffy swell of her sex framed by her luscious behind. 

Looking back at him, she teased him with her lascivious pose, “Come on then, stick it in me.”

With a yelp, he skewered her easily in one firm thrust.  Clattering into her body, his smooth loins slapped against her fleshy derriere.  Seizing her waist, he pulled with his arms and gave his whole length up to the hilt.  Long confident lunges pressed the draft of his thick length tight against the envelope of her sex.  A squelching noise punctured her groans as his relentless pace made her buck back with each thrust. 

So much for the virgin from a few hours ago, he learned fast.  Instinct took over, the plunge of his length slapped against her body.  Again, he eased almost out and thrust firmly into her again.

“Fuck!” she exhaled, “Don’t stop doing that.  How much longer are you going to be here?”

“Ten… ten more days.”

Emma purred, “I want your cock every day.  Do you think you can sneak away?”  With a staccato set of thrusts, her moans strengthened into soft yelps, “Oh Jack!”

“Yes, I’ll fuck you every day.”  He pressed hard to completely impale her, “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Through the crack in the bedroom door, he watched his wife writhe and buck.  He would get his turn soon enough.  Their fantasies alive before his eyes, her young charge confidently took her wanton body.

Who would have thought, out in the sticks, they would get what they wanted?

All of them.