Menage A Trois Ch 13

Dear reader,

I am afraid we have come to the end of our lust filled tale of Steve and Sandy and their horny friends. I suppose I could drag this tale on for numerous chapters, but I'm done with Steve and Sandy. You and I know who they are and what they are about, and there is no fun in just telling more stories of their lurid adventures. It becomes predictable after awhile and there are other characters and their foibles I want to explore. But just not to leave those of you who really want a traditional ending hanging here is a brief epilogue.

Menage et Trois Epilogue

A beat up red pick-up was parked on a sage covered ridge that faced the Gros Ventre range in Northwest Wyoming. Sandy and Steve had driven the old truck up from their home in Jackson Hole almost to Moran before they turned off on a gravel road that followed a creek paralleling the back of the Gros Ventre range. Eventually they had left the gravel road and followed a track up a low ridge to the east, the four wheel drive of the truck groaning and complaining and the tires spitting rocks and dirt occasionally. When they reached the top they parked the truck and jumped out peeling off their clothes as they did so. Steve's prick was already hard. Sandy had been massaging it off and on through his jeans since they left Jackson. Sandy was leaning against the lowered tailgate of the truck wearing nothing but a pair of hiking boots (the ground was too rocky for bare feet). Steve was dressed the same except for a badly soiled John Deer ball cap on his head. He stood in front of Sandy stroking his cock.

"Well are you going to fuck me or not?" she asked.

"Just taking in the view."

"Me or the Gros Ventres?"

"Both."

"So which do you like better cowboy?"

"Those are mighty pretty hills, he said.

Sandy pouted.

"I meant these hills," Steve said. He leaned forward, lifted a breast to his mouth and began to suck on her nipple.

Sandy let her head fall back and gasped. "Oh fuck, Steve. I was wanting you to do that all the way up here this morning." She reached down with a hand and grabbed his rigid prick.

"Is that all you wanted?" Steve asked. "Just for me to suck on your titties?" He switched to her other breast as he finished his question, not waiting for an answer.

"Oh god yes! That feels so fucking good," Sandy said, losing the question for a moment.

Really? That's all? You just wanted me to play with your titties?" Steve asked as he begin rubbing each nipple between a thumb and a forefinger.

"No!" Sandy hissed as she stroked his cock. "You damn well know what I want. I want what we always do when we drive up here. I want you to take this big cock (she gave it an extra squeeze for emphasis) and shove it into my hot wet pussy and fuck me until I scream for mercy. That's what I want."

Steve stepped back and grabbed her roughly turning her so she was facing the lowered tailgated of the truck. Sandy put her elbows and forearms on it, leaning forward so her naked ass out was shoved out at Steve. Her legs were spread so her pussy was exposed and readily accessible.

Steve stepped forward grabbing Sandy's hips and letting his rigid prick slide past the opening to her cunt and between her swollen labia. Sandy gasped when it bumped against her clit.

"Oh so that's what you wanted you horny slut. You like having my dick rub your clit don't you?"

"You bastard! Stop teasing me and fuck me. Put that big hard cock of yours in my cunt. Now! God damnit!"

They both could feel his cock grow harder as she talked. He loved it when she talked dirty to him. Sandy reached back with one hand and grabbed his cock, already slippery with her juices, and lined it up with the opening to her cunt. Then she pushed back with her hips impaling herself on his prick. Steve responded by shoving hard with his hips, sinking his cock into Sandy until his balls were swinging up against her clit.

"Oh fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes, that's what I wanted. Ever since we left the house. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard. I'm your horny slut. Just like your models back in New York were and I want it. I want it so bad."

Steve was silent now. He held Sandy by the hips and pounded her pussy with his cock. They had made love the night before so he wasn't worried about cumming too soon, but he wanted Sandy to get off soon so he reached under her with one hand and begin to rub her clit. It was hard. Not huge like some of his models back in the City, but it was just like a hard little pebble as he rubbed it with his forefinger and thumb.

Sandy was moaning now, incapable of coherent speech. Steve held her at that pitch, backing off with his fingers when he thought she was close to cumming, but continuing to pound her cunt with his cock. Their bodies made a slapping sound as they came together after each thrust of Steve's prick into her pussy.

Sandy was panting now. "Oh fuck Steve. Stop toying with me. Make me cum! Now, damnit!

He pinched her clit and she screamed as her climax roared through her. Steve held his cock as deep in her cunt as he could get as her muscles squeezed it. He continued to rub her clit as her climax roared through her in waves, easing up only when he sensed she was done. Sandy collapsed forward onto the tailgate, but Steve still held her hips, keeping her from collapsing completely. His cock, still rock hard, remained buried in her.

Steve leaned back, still holding Sandy's hips and soaked in the scenery around them. They were parked on a low ridge. To the south the ridge continued to climb slowly. Half a mile away the sage gave way to stands of pine and fir, but here there was just the grey green sage and tufts of bunch grass. Occasional stands of aspen, turned golden in late September, were scattered along the sage covered ridge.

Below there was the creek they had driven alongside and then the slow rise of the foothills of the Gross Ventre range capped by the range itself, at this distance mostly a bluish granite. It had been a cold wet winter and a cool summer so there were still patches of snow scattered about the highest peaks of the Gross Ventre. The sky was a cobalt blue without a sign of a cloud.

Eventually he felt Sandy stir beneath him.

"You didn't cum did you?" she whispered.

"No, but you sure did," Steve responded with a chuckle.

"Mmmmmm. Yes," she sighed.

"Time for lunch?" he asked.

"Not until I make you cum."

"Okay. I'm not so hungry I want to turn that down." He started to work his cock in and out of her again.

"No," she said. "I want to suck you."

Steve pulled his cock out of her and she stood up and turned to face him.

"I can't turn that offer down. You are just about the best cocksucker I know."

"My but you can flatter a girl." She had both hands on his dick now stroking it with a twisting motion as she stared into his eyes. It was slick with the juices of her climax.

"Sit on the tailgate," she said.

He did as she asked. He knew when to take orders. Sandy stood between his legs leaning forward, her weight on her hands spread widely on either side of Steve. Then she lowered her head and sucked his cock into her mouth pushing herself to take him down her throat, her chin against his balls and her nose against his pubic bone.

Sandy sucked him for ten minutes or more and Steve leaned back on his elbows and savored the moment. Eventually he reached the point where he could last no longer. "I'm going to cum babe," he warned her.

She responded with something unintelligible that Steve took to be her approval. She had made it clear in the past that she liked to swallow his ejaculation.

"Oh god. Here it comes." He threw his head back and groaned. He felt his cum escape in several spurts that fired straight down Sandy's throat. As he came he stared at the empty blue sky above him. Not quite empty. Just as the last of his cum dribbled down Sandy's throat an eagle drifted silently by a hundred or more feet above them.

Steve laid back on the tailgate and the bed of the truck, still staring at the sky. A minute or two later he felt Sandy hop up on the tailgate next to him and set a cooler between that she had retrieved from the cab of the truck. "Lunch time," she said as she pried the lid off the cooler.

"Did you see the eagle," he asked.

"No. Was there an eagle? When?"

"Just as I came"

"Uhh. I was busy, or didn't you notice?"

Steve laughed. "Oh I noticed."

"Oh well. We live in Wyoming now. There are lots of eagles. I saw one yesterday."

"There weren't any eagles in Manhattan, were there?"

"Nope. No NPOT either."

Steve laughed. "Naked Picnic on Thursday. Who made that up?" As he spoke Steve reached into the cooler and pulled out a cold beer. He looked at the beer and then said, "and who thought naming a beer 'Bitch Creek,' was a good idea?"

"I don't know about the beer," Sandy said, but Naked Picnic on Thursday was your idea. Remember the first summer after we moved out here you wanted to have sex up on this ridge?"

"Oh yeah. You're right. But I called it sex on Thursday. The naked picnic part was your idea. You came up with the acronym too."

That was from my old world at KPMI. We had acronyms or everything."

Steve took along pull on his beer and then held the bottle up to look at it. "Tacky name, but it's good beer."

Sandy reached over and took the bottle from him and took a long drink. "Oh that is good," she said. "Is there any more of that in the cooler?"

"Whole six pack." Steve pulled out another beer and opened it for her.

They sat silently enjoying the beer and the warm sun on their naked skin.

"That sun feels good," Steve said as he opened a second beer to go with his sandwich.

"Enjoy it while you can. This is probably our last NPOT for the year."

"Really?"

"This is the last week in September. It's supposed to snow tomorrow. We live damn near on the Continental Divide. Remember? Winter comes early here."

'True," he said. He worked on his sandwich and took another pull on his beer. "You still okay with living here? I mean you don't think we made a mistake leaving New York, do you?"

"Oh god no. I was so sick of the work I was doing at KPMI. The politics of being a senior partner in that firm was driving me nuts. Here I'm in a five partner firm and we do rich people's tax returns and returns for some of the Mormon farmers from the other side of the Tetons in Idaho. No I'm fine with living here, even in the winter. What about you?"

"Wyoming is a huge improvement over New York for me. We couldn't have NPOT in New York," he said with a laugh.

"Central Park?"

"Hmmm. I doubt if that would work unless it was at 2:00 A.M. on Thursday. There still wouldn't be any eagle flying by while you are giving me a lunch time blow job. Might be a cop though."

Once she stopped laughing Sandy said, "But seriously. Do you miss the New York art scene. Your paintings of naked women were a big success. Not just your first show, but everything you did after that. Now you are just doing water color landscapes and selling prints in a local shop in Jackson Hole."

"Nah. That's not a problem. I was running out of ways to paint women having an orgasm. I think I had pretty well mined that concept. Besides, I like the watercolors I'm doing now."

Sandy was leaning back, her legs, bent at the knees andhanging over the tailgate as she swung her feet back and forth. The sun was illuminating her naked body. "You weren't running out of pretty women who wanted to pose for you."

Steve smiled. "Yeah, that's true. I never quite understood that. Was it making you jealous?"

"No. . . Well maybe a little, but not much because I was working too hard to spend much time worrying about it."

"I didn't fuck them all," he said. "Only the first few. Fiona was the last one. I don't think I fucked any of that you didn't fuck first. Well, except Angel I guess."

"I know," she said.

"I got more money for the nudes than I do for the landscapes."

"I'm not sure about that. You sell a lot of prints of each of the watercolors. You weren't selling prints of the nudes. I'd have to go back and look at our tax records to be sure. You do really well at the art festivals you go to, like that one in Boise earlier this month."

"Don't bother. I like this life and the money doesn't matter. I like the art festivals just because of all the people I get to chat with. You know no one at those festivals has brought up my New York nudes yet. Guess I'm not as famous as I thought."

Steve finished the last of his second beer and tossed the empty bottle in the cooler. "Come on," he said as he dropped off the tailgate to his feet. "I got an idea for a picture I want to do. Lets walk down to that grove of aspen below us." He grabbed Sandy's hand and pulled her with him as he started to walk.

"Do I need clothes?" she asked.

"I don't know why you would. No one's going to see you except me and I want to draw you naked. This isn't Central Park you know. But you might want to lace up your boots and tie them so you don't trip."

"Where are we going?"

"Down to that grove of aspen, like I said." The aspen were in full fall color, their bright yellow leaves flickering back and forth in the light breeze.

"You don't have a sketch pad."

"I got a camera," he said.

"Oh so you want to take dirty pictures of me you lecher."

"Pictures of you naked are never dirty," he said. "You're always beautiful." He reached out and took her hand as they walked down to the aspen grove.

When they got there, he told her to step into the grove of trees and to stand looking back at him through the golden leaves. Then he begin to shoot a series of images, telling her how to pose and what her face should look like as he shot. "The concept," he said, "is you're going to be covered in gold leaves, like Klimt's gold paintings. But I can't afford the gold leaf so I'll just use these aspen leaves."

Sandy laughed at him.

Steve shot ten or twenty pictures of Sandy partially hidden by the leaves and then the light had changed so they quit. High thin clouds were flowing in from the north and cutting off the warmth of the sun.

"Brrr. It's getting cold," she said as they walked up the hill to the truck.

"I'm afraid you're right," Steve responded. "This is likely our last NPOT for the year."

"Don't sound like it's the end of the world. It just means we switch to NBMOT."

"What's that?"

"Naked Bread Making on Thursday," she said. "Have you forgotten last winter?"

The wind was starting to blow as they pulled their clothes on and climbed back in the truck. Steve opened the last beer from the six-pack and started the truck up. As they drove down the hill, Sandy spoke up. "Did I tell you Rachel and Lisa are coming out for Thanksgiving?"

"Oh my god," Steve responded. "I doubt if I will live through it. I hope they bring some men with them. I can't keep up with the three of you."

"Somehow I think you'll make it," she said.

Just as they got to the gravel road along the creek it started to rain.