Open-air

One time, sitting by the campfire at night, there were two young men in their company this time. One of them was overly zealous in caring

for Kristina and constantly trying to draw her attention, which, naturally, did not escape Andrey's notice. It must be said that the topic of swinging, sexwifes, and various non-standard sex, like MFM, FMF, had been floating around in their couple for quite some time. And although things had never gone beyond talk so far, the topic had firmly taken root in their heads. The initiator, of course, was Andrey, as is the case in most married couples. His wife, Kristina, at 33, looked almost ten years younger, was quite attractive, and had a figure like a girl's—slender, with a very developed, appetite-whetting butt, a narrow waist, and practically girlish, small first-size breasts with very sexy and very sensitive erect nipples. She loved sex very much and indulged in it with all her soul. At first, she didn't even want to hear about anything like that. But gradually, her reaction began to change. Interest sparked in her eyes; during sex, Andrey sometimes began to voice fantasies aloud, which added considerable excitement and sharpness to the sensations, bringing her closer to release. But so far, these were just fantasies.

Throughout the time they were sitting, the guy, whose name was Max, was actively "hitting on" Kristina. Especially when Andrey went somewhere. Some whispering, jokes, teasing, hints, winks. In general, if not for Andrey's hidden interest in all this, there were more than enough reasons to "punch the guy in the face" or at least ask "what the hell, dude." But he was gripped by a burning interest and a kind of excitement. The atmosphere itself, some amount of alcohol consumed, and the circumstances that had conveniently aligned contributed to this. And he watched, under various pretexts trying to leave them without his presence as often as possible, but not losing sight of them. He was very curious to see how his beloved would behave. She, of course, acted as if she "wasn't falling for it," keeping him at a distance, but from an experienced ladies' man, which Max apparently was, it did not escape notice that she was quite favorably receiving his attention, and his experienced eye did not miss her interest in him and his courtship. Time passed, the night flew by, the people, thoroughly warmed up, gradually began to disperse to their tents, and Andrey and Kristina slowly crawled away too. Climbing into the tent, undressing, they half-jokingly, half-seriously discussed these "peacock dances," not bypassing the topic of group sex with Max as a possible candidate for that role.

"So, how is he? Did you like him? Could you be with him?" he asked, trying to see her eyes in the dark but hearing only her quickened breathing.

"I don't know... He seems okay... Probably."

While talking, Andrey placed his palm on Kristina's leg and slowly moved it up her thigh. Reaching her pussy, he discovered that his Kristinochka was seriously aroused. Her panties were practically soaked through, and a light touch to her lips caused a tremor throughout her body. She arched, moaning, and spread her legs as wide as possible, as if inviting. Which he immediately took advantage of, as he was also seriously aroused. Sliding lower, he moved aside the thin strip of wet panties and pressed his lips to her hot petals, immediately feeling the heat emanating from them. Moaning softly, arching even more, Kristina placed a hand on his head, pressing him to her. Closing her eyes, spreading her legs wider and wider, lifting them higher and higher, opening as much access as possible to her pussy. The hot breath, the awareness of the evening's events, her words, so aroused Andrey, clouding his mind, that unable to restrain himself any longer, he impulsively rose and literally entered her full length on the spot, causing a loud "Aaah" and sealing Kristina's lips with a kiss, began to pound fiercely. Immediately and deeply.

His cock, erect to the point of aching from excitement, penetrated to the very uterus, causing a sweet languor in her, touching something inside with each thrust. Spreading and lifting her legs as wide as possible, meeting him, tightly wrapping both arms around his neck, Kristina moaned, whispering: Yes! Yes! Yes, my good one! More! More! More, my love! Yes! From hyper-arousal, from her words and moans, from the sensation of his cock in that sweet pussy, finally literally hammering her into the air mattress, with the last thrust wringing a cry from her and pressing himself into her essence, sharply pulling her hair, throwing her head back, he came with a growl, ejaculating sperm into such a beloved, such a native pussy. Breathing heavily, continuing to hold her in passionate embraces, feeling her tremors, he kissed her cheek, ear, shoulder, everything his lips could reach. Without releasing her from his embrace, he slid to the side, lovingly hugging her beloved body, stroking her belly, thighs, and the small pubic hair. Kristina opened her eyes, turned her head, and pressing her whole body against him, burying herself somewhere in his neck, whispered:

"I love you!"

"I love you too, my girl!" he whispered in response, and so embraced, they fell asleep.

Outside, a hot summer night, a stuffy tent, the embraces gradually loosened, Andrey rolled away to the other side of the tent. Kristina slept, all open like that, in her hitched-up T-shirt, which she was too lazy to adjust, in thin panties, in her favorite side-sleeping position, pulling one leg to her chest. In this pose, the view is amazing, and access to her pussy is maximally open. Through light sleep, she feels hands on her marvelous buttocks, fingers carefully caressing her pussy, then a wet tongue, first very cautiously, then more boldly sliding over her still wet-from-sex lips. It gently flutters over every fold, gradually immersing her again in bliss. Kristina, languid from sleep, is too lazy to move; she only moans slightly, not opening her eyes and smiling through sleep, thinking about her husband, "what a restless one!" And the tongue becomes bolder and bolder, already pressing with force, penetrating its full length into her essence, filling her belly with pleasant warmth. Hands, now freely roaming over her buttocks and thighs, widen their amplitude, stroking her back, creeping under the T-shirt. One hand reaches forward and grasps her breast, squeezing the nipple with two fingers, eliciting a moan from her chest.

Kristina, of course, now clearly understands that it is not Andrey inside her, but she has neither the strength nor the desire to resist and find out who it is. All she wants is for him not to stop. And he does not disappoint

her expectations. Increasing the pace, he begins to pound deeper and deeper into her, causing sensations unknown until now. Orgasm, always so distant and long-awaited, suddenly unexpectedly and quickly begins to envelop her, gathering somewhere in the depths of her lower belly into a lump of something inexplicable, immense, lifting her to some unreal heights. The cock, so unfamiliar and so wonderful, continues to penetrate forcefully, carrying her higher and higher. And Kristina, unexpectedly for herself, literally after a minute of such sweet fucking, comes with a cry, burying her face in the mattress. Shuddering all over, forgetting herself, where she is and what she is, turning into a trembling lump of pleasure, she is carried so far away where she has never been before. The world turns into some kind of colored spots that envelop her and carry her, spinning and turning. And at that moment, she feels how this marvelous cock begins to erupt somewhere inside. She so clearly feels the full force of these powerful streams hitting her greedily opened uterus, causing additional spasms, that she unconsciously and involuntarily wiggles her butt on this wonderful cock, impaling herself on it as much as possible, not wanting to let go and prolonging such sweet sensations. Gradually, the wave releases Kristina, plunging her into some kind of nirvana of relaxation and bliss. She is satisfied as never before and lies unable to move even a finger. Her eyes are closed. The unfamiliar lover slowly withdraws his cock and, running it over the silky skin of her buttock, wipes away the remaining sperm. Then, as unnoticed and quietly as he came, he leaves.

After some time, Kristina comes to her senses and lies there, thinking about who it actually was. All her thoughts are occupied by him, and mainly by his COCK. So marvelous, giving her sensations previously unknown. And he, of course, none other than their new acquaintance Max, quickly catching his breath after such an exciting but too quick sex, will walk in circles around their tent, under the impression of this sweet, sexy girl, her such a lovely pussy. He will want more. Oh, how he will want! He is a good and insatiable lover, and one such short time with such a body is catastrophically little for him. And having decided, he quickly approaches the tent again, but... hesitates. And Kristina lies, all wet, her sleep gone as if by magic. And she catches herself in the treacherous thought that she wants MORE! She wants this wonderful cock inside her again. These sweet, unearthly sensations. She hears someone's footsteps near the tent, her heart flutters, but the footsteps freeze. Come on!... and not waiting, she herself, impulsively rising, sticks her head out of the tent. And runs into him. Their eyes meet, and it's as if thunder and lightning flash between them.

Moaning, she presses one hand against Max's chest, grabbing his knee with the other, and lowering her head, freezes in ecstasy, enjoying the sensations from the tool inside her. She had few lovers in her life, but none possessed such outstanding size and hardness. It seemed she could sit on him like that forever and enjoy it, but a new juicy slap on the butt and Max's hands, squeezing her buttocks and pulling her up, brought her back to reality. To the sweet, intoxicating, incomparable reality. Where she sits, impaled on a magnificent cock, practically of an unfamiliar male, who is fucking her, essentially without asking her desire. Where nearby, literally a few meters away, her beloved husband sleeps, suspecting nothing. Where around, behind the thin tent canopies, dozens of people who could see and hear. "What a bitch I am!" flashed through her head with a kind of painful pleasure. Unfamiliar and thrilling sensations took over her entire being, the upward movement stopped, and she began to descend again, feeling with every cell how the walls of her vulva part and stretch.

And the dance began. Ancient and natural, like the world itself. Forgetting everything and everyone, she moved up and down, forward and back, not thinking about anything, completely disconnecting from the whole world, turning into a lustful female, focusing on this cock and the sensations it gave. And she deeply didn't care that with her moans, sometimes turning into cries, she probably woke up half the camp, that somewhere not far away was her husband, who and what would say or think about her in the morning. She would have killed anyone at that moment, even probably her beloved husband, if they had interrupted her or even tried to somehow interfere. A hot ball, originating somewhere inside her female essence, began to grow and expand, emitting sparkling rays that pierced her entire being. At some moment, having grown to some unimaginable sizes, it filled her, not allowing her to breathe. Kristina convulsively opened her mouth, unable to swallow air. At that moment, gripping with force, leaving bruises on the delicate skin of her thighs, growling like a wild beast, Max began to come, impaling her on the cock to the hilt, shooting somewhere into the very womb. The ball inside Kristina exploded with a million sparks, contorting and arching her.