This is the (rather long) final chapter in the story of our sexual break in Wales. It involves exhibitionism, lesbianism and Wam, I hope you enjoy the telling of it.
We are a married couple of ten years and this is the story of a break in the country we enjoyed with out our two boys, who are living it up with my parents. We in the meantime are seeking to live it up and revitalise our sex life, by behaving like naughty teenagers for a week. We have chosen to take our caravan to a remote farm that we know well in mid-Wales. In the last episode, I told how Margaret, an experienced bisexual exhibitionist, took us to a party. On the way back to the caravan, I had pulled off my wife's tee-shirt and tossed it into the back of the car. She was now riding topless in the car.
"You know?" Rebecca said, "I'm beginning to like being underdressed. Particularly when I can't reach my shirt as you've thrown it way into the back of the car. If we were to meet someone now I wouldn't be able to do a thing about it and it would be your fault!"
"So you are absolved from all responsibility for your situation." I replied.
"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "I could say you stripped me and I could not stop you."
"Did you want to stop me?" I asked.
"That." She said emphatically, "is beside the point."
"So, say hypothetically, I was to do the same thing in the pub." I suggested, "You would allow me to do it, and let me take the consequences."
"I would possibly ......say........ agree with that." She said she replied slowly after thinking about it.
"It's a deal!" I said triumphantly.
"What's a deal?"
"I can strip you or remove some or all of you clothing provided I take responsibility." I told her.
"That's not what I said!" She remarked.
"But it's what you meant!"
She looked at me and smiled. "I suppose it is." She said, "But only this week, with no kids about."
"What about the party we were talking about holding?" I asked her.
"That's different. We are likely to be with like-minded adults when that happens." She reminded me.
"I think I can work with that." I agreed. I then pulled up at the bottom of the forestry track which led to the field where our caravan was sited. "Go and open the gate there's a good girl." I told her.
She had done something similar before, in fact she rode naked on the bonnet of the car all the way to the camp earlier in the week. But that was in the dark and late at night. Now it was broad daylight and the middle of the day. "OK." She said quickly and slipping off her shoes, she didn't want to get them muddy, stepped down on to the muddy track in her bare feet. She padded round to the gate, opened it and closed it again after I drove through.
"You're not getting back into the car in that state!" I told her in no uncertain terms.
"Will I ride on the bonnet again?"
"You'll have to!" I told her. She clambered on to the bonnet of the 4x4 and held herself on by hooking her legs round the bull bars on the front of the car. "Be careful!" I called out. "I don't want to run you over!"
"And I don't want to fall off into the mud!" She called out in return.
"Spoilsport!"
She turned and put out her tongue at me and in doing so slid slowly but inexorably backwards off the bonnet down, head first into the mud in front of the car. It was a good job I hadn't even begun to move! She stood up, bare breasted, turned her back to show that she had landed on her back and was smothered from the back of her head to be bum. "Beast!" She called out, before I had chance to say that I hadn't done it. But then I saw that she was smiling. She climbed back up on to the car and shouted "Tally Ho!" and pointed up the lane.
When we reached the caravan, I confronted her. "I could have run over you!"
"But you didn't." She concluded, "So it was all right!"
"Did you fall into the mud on purpose?" I demanded.
"You may think that Terry, but I couldn't possibly comment!" She bounded away across the grass, "I'm going to the pond to rinse myself off! -- Bring the camera!"
In my turn, I went after her, camera in hand, trying desperately to remember how much space I had on the memory card. As I crossed the field, I reflected on the change that I have observed in Rebecca since we got her a few days ago. Before we were married and perhaps a little after, we had indulged in a bit of "naughtiness" in public, but nothing on the scale that she was now proposing. She, and I are both proud of the way she has kept her body in shape, even after having two children. She now seems to have developed the confidence to allow others to see in just how good a shape she is in.
I arrived at the pond to find her standing ankle deep in the water. "I thought you weren't coming!" she called out as I emerged from behind the tall reeds along the edge. "Ready?" she asked. When I nodded and raised the camera, she turned her back on me to show just how muddy she had got when she slipped of the bonnet of the car in the lane.
The whole of her back, from her bum to the back of her head was plastered in the stuff. Her shoulder length hair at the back of her head was matted and stuck to her skull by the muddy brown goo. She must have chosen a particularly deep rut to tumble into. Either that or she was very unlucky (or depending on your point of view, lucky) to have landed as she did. She waded into deeper water until she was hip deep, then she bent over to begin to try and wash the mud out of her hair. I think her waistband was a little tight as she bent over, so she undid the stud and lowered the zip a little way which allowed the jeans to hang precariously off her hips. The fact that she had not taken them off, but left them in danger of falling off, made the sight somehow a great deal sexier than if she had removed them completely.
Having satisfied herself that she had removed as much as she could by herself, she called me down to join her. "Come and wash my back for me." She called out. I scrambled down to the water's edge, but took the precaution of taking off my (new) slacks, which Rebecca had bought for me literally only a couple of hours before. "Wimp!" she called out, so I chased her round the pond, caught her and dunked her under. It was not long before she was parted from her jeans and I pulled her towards shallower water, which happened to be in a bunch of Bullrushes. I climbed over her and slid my hard erection into her, pressing her arse into the mud in which the reeds were growing.
As we shagged, she drew handfuls of mud from beneath the water and dumped in on to my back, piling it up on my shirt. As I thrust away in and out of her, we disturbed more of the silt and soon it resembled soup. Only her head and shoulders were above water level as my seed flowed into her receptive hole. As I recovered, I retaliated for her treatment of my shirt by, still lying on top of her, dumping a couple of handfuls of the mud on top of her head.
There now followed wrestling match in which we were both pushed under water and each suffered the indignity of having handfuls of mud thrust into our faces. I piled a load of silt on top of her head and rubbed it well in. We were both shrieking with laughter as she returned the measure. By now we were both naked, thrashing about in the pond and loving it!
We stayed in the water for almost an hour, if you include the clean up (of sorts) in the muddy water. My only regret was that no-one filmed it. I would have loved to have watched it over and over again. "It's a pity we don't have a pond." Rebecca said as we trooped back towards the caravan for a proper shower.
"Our garden isn't big enough." I told her, "Anyway the neighbours overlook our garden."
"We wouldn't always have to be in the nude." She explained.
"What about the boys?" I asked.
"We could always let them join in." She reasoned. "In the non sexy part that is. They would enjoy getting dirty. .............Like we do."
"What about getting one of those big inflatable paddling pools?" I suggested. "You know, the type that is about ten feet long. It would be a bit obvious filling it with mud though, we'd have to use water."
"Mmmm." She murmured as she thought about it. "I suppose I could develop a habit of accidentally falling in."
".....Wearing one of your thin cotton mini dresses, with nothing underneath!" I suggested.
"Down boy!" She laughed. "Anyway most of my cotton dresses are not minis."
"I'll help you shorten them." I offered.
"I suppose." Rebecca agreed. "Perhaps you could take photos of my dress getting see-through as it got wet."
I could do a sequence, of you, say shopping in the market in the dress......"
"With nothing underneath?" She suddenly asked.
".....Don't interrupt!" I told her. "But yes, with nothing underneath. The skirt would be short, it would ride up as you drove home, then you would go into the back garden for something and fall into the pool."
"That sounds like a plan." She agreed, then added. "How short would my skirt be exactly?"