The Tree House
My thanks to Chastity420 who suggested that I turn this real life adventure into a story.
Every year on May 1, my wife and I put the kids to bed, pour ourselves a strong drink, or two, and then recite our favorite poem:
Hooray! Hooray! Itâs the first of May. Outdoor fucking begins today!
I learned this poem many years ago from a book by the humorist Allan Sherman and ever since weâve recited it together on May 1âand if the weatherâs good, we act on the imperatives of the verse. This past weekend, the weather was perfect, and so out we went.
Our house is in a suburban subdivision, but itâs an older neighborhood and so the houses have large lots, mature trees, and the yards are at least somewhat private. We have an entire acre of land behind the house and about half way down the yard is a tree house I built for our children years ago. It has two levels, but no roofâjust a latticework wall that is about three feet high to keep the kids from falling out. It sits in a couple of trees right up against our neighborsâ fence and has a commanding view of the backyards on either side of usâwhich means, of course, that anyone in those yards can see the tree house as well.
For the past couple of years weâve joked about doing our annual outdoor fuck in the tree house, but itâs either been raining, or we had company, or something else prevented us from climbing up for a little fun. This year, though, we had no excusesâthe weather was perfect, the kids were asleep, and we were getting buzzed as we worked our way into a second bottle of wine.
So, at around 10:00 p.m., I said to my wife, âOkay Sarah, time for our annual rite of spring.â
She smiled at me, raised her glass, and we said our poem.
âI think this is our year for the tree house,â I said.
She pondered this for a second and then her wicked side took over and she smiled broadly and said, âYou know, I think it is. Letâs go.â
I stood, she stood, and we kissed for a minute, our hands wandering over one another, following the familiar paths weâve established in our 20 years together. Sarah is a very beautiful womanâalmost six feet tall, a redhead, with a curvy body, perfect breasts and an ass that makes men stop, stare, and wonder how a woman in her forties can look so good.
Like me, sheâs a horny thing and loves to push the envelope of what we can get away with, especially if a little bit of exhibitionism might be involved. Over the years weâve made love in front of our hotel windows many times, putting on a show for those who care to watch. Weâve masturbated one another on the interstate, giving truckers and eye-full, and weâve had sex on picnic tables in parks (at night, of course), on rocky outcroppings along the Appalachian Trail, on the beach, in suburban hot tubs at 3:00 a.m., and once against a tree in the middle of an almost full campground. The thrill of possibly being seen adds tremendously to the excitement of the sex.
But weâve never risked exposing ourselves to our immediate neighbors. After all, we have to live with them for a long time to come.
That didnât stop us this time. As we kissed and fondled one another there in the living room, my cock began to rise to attention. Feeling my hardness pressed against her leg, Sarah began to stroke me through my pants.
âMmmm,â she murmured. âI think someoneâs ready.â
âGiven how hard your nipples are,â I replied, âI think you are too.â
âFollow me,â she whispered, already getting into the thrill of the thing.