An hour or so after my three-way with George and Mac I peered out of my tent. They were with Pete and Tom, sitting in deck chairs and drinking from beer bottles outside their big frame tent. I couldn't hear what anyone was saying, but Mac and George were doing most of the talking and I was certain the topic was our little escapade earlier. No way would they be able to keep that to themselves.
I left my tent and there was an immediate drop in volume as they all clocked me. With my towel draped over my shoulder I approached them on my way to the shower block. A knowing quality in their greetings which I answered with a million dollar smile. Only Mac was shirtless. He interlocked his fingers behind his head, displaying his hairy pits. Big George's chair creaked as he leaned forward and eyed me from under his heavy brow. Little Tom's gaze switch-backing between my tits and lower portions. As for Pete, he didn't disappoint. Just a glance at his face got mine heated. His lovely green eyes were watchful, humorous and sexy as hell. I moved on with my hip-swaying walk and felt their eyes like lasers on the exposed curves below the hems of my shorts.
In the shower I washed the sweat and dried cum off me, then headed back.
The boys were playing badminton doubles. 'Fancy a game,' said Pete. Not as blond as I am; damp strands of his hair were dark on his forehead.
'No, don't think so,' I said, my lips in a half-smile as I looked him up and down with another game in mind.
'Course you do.' He put a racket in my hand and stood behind me, real close. He grabbed my wrist and did some practice swings of the racket. 'Long. Slow. Strokes,' he said, his lips warm and moist in my ear. 'Yeah, think I've got it,' I said, smiling as much at the solid mass pressing into the top curve of my butt.
After all that they played like shit, even cool Pete. They missed easy shots with half their attention on me. I did my girly giggle, knowing it would get their nuts churning in their pants. Whenever the shuttlecock hit the deck near me, I laid it on, bending from the waist and presenting my rounded booty or the big hanging fruit of my tits. Okay, pretty shameless, but from the tightness of their packets I knew I'd lit the blue touch-paper and the slow burn in their balls would end in fireworks tonight.
'I'm done' I said feeling full of energy. I tossed the racket to Pete, said, 'Later guys.'
'Come and eat with us. I'm doing the cooking.' Pint-sized Tom looked me up and down as if I'd serve as a suitable ingredient.
'Sounds great.'
I couldn't settle to anything in my tent over the remainder of the afternoon. At around six-thirty I saw Tom getting a meal ready while the others lazed around. I put on my pleated micro-mini skirt and tight pink camisole, low-cut with spaghetti shoulder straps. A touch of make-up to finish and I was ready. I sauntered across.
A fry-up; grease on my lips was sticky as jizz, not that I ate much with my stomach churning with anticipation. Four horn-dogs at my disposal with Pete in a special category all his own. The boys competed with tall tales, laughed too loud, legs splayed, everything directed at me. Later, at someone's suggestion, as the sun went behind the hills, we ended up in the same pub I'd been in with Tim, Alex and Greg soon after I'd arrived at the camp site. That these were four different guys elicited a licking of lips and murmurs from grizzled regulars, as impressed by my work rate as they plainly were by my bare crossed thighs under the round table and, as I leaned over it, my tits threatening to balloon out from the low, wide opening of my camisole.
I learned that Tom was a trainee teacher and Mac and George were apprentices at an engineering firm. Those two kept glancing at me and looked well pleased with themselves. It was like they had a special claim on me after our threesome and that wasn't the case. Pete made me certain of that, sitting forward, chin in hand as he listened to my occasional contributions. He spoke even less, looked faintly amused while the other guys chattered. He said he worked for a local newspaper in the Midlands. They didn't hear him ask me how long I planned to stay at the campsite.
'Dunno,' I said. I inhaled deeply and Pete's eyes flickered to the deep dark divide between my boobs. 'Sleeping alone in a tent made for two wasn't in the plan.'
'Got a plan now?' he asked.
'You bet,' I said, my eyes smiling at him over the rim of my wine glass.
Pete's few words had hit the spot. At the best of times I feel sex is the ideal means of communication with guys, not talk. I was determined to bed Pete and see how he used his body to communicate. I figured if he was really as special as his physique and demeanour promised, I might make a big effort and break my current obsession with taking on three or four guys at a time and stick to just this one—maybe for more than a day or two.
With a stretch and a little fake yawn I said I'd be heading back. Half the clientele, I mean the male half, checked me out as I got up. Passing behind Pete's chair I gave his shoulders a squeeze.
That did the trick. I'd barely gone twenty yards outside when I heard steps hurrying to catch me up.
'You made George and Mac's day,' Pete said.
'Gave you all the details did they?' I said.
'I got the gist,' Pete said. I guessed he was understating the case massively. It excited me picturing him lapping up the details while maintaining a cool exterior. 'You seem to know what you want,' he went on.
I got a strong sense of what he wanted from his moist kissable lips and his pupils, enormously dilated in his searching green eyes. Right now I wanted him in my tent and ten minutes later we were outside it. I got on all fours and crawled, flaunting my curvy upraised arse, my micro mini riding high on it.
Inside, frantic kissing and necking while we simultaneously tore off each other's clothes till we were down to his briefs and my black lace panties. He lay back, supporting himself on his elbows, a rangy, muscled hunk, sexy and vulnerable even as his eyes burned into my boobs and points south. I didn't know where to start for a second or two—not that I'm ever unsure for long when it comes to sex.
His cock was angled to one side in his tight little briefs and demanded to be freed. I pulled the elastic waistband out and down and saliva sprang off my tongue at my first sight of his erect cock. Hooking the waistband under his big blond-haired balls lifted them, and he sighed at the squeeze of my thumb and forefinger around the base of his dick. It had an enticing slight outward bow that made a sweet spot in my pussy throb mysteriously in anticipation.
But I was feeling cock in my mouth first, my lips sliding down, widening to encompass the root. I tasted the skin, tight on the hard barrel, a faint tang of salt. Pete pushed up from his hips and dug his fingers into my blond hair. He grew deeper into my mouth till my swallowing reflex was massaging the big sticky end. He gasped over and over—'You're a
good
