Good fishing
I remembered a story that happened last summer. My husband, his friend, and I decided to go fishing. We planned for the evening bite with the possibility of staying overnight. We took our gear, bait, food, a tent, and went in a minibus. I should say, I really enjoy male company, attention, compliments, and I had liked my husband's friend for a long time. I had all sorts of thoughts, but I probably wouldn't have dared to do anything more than think if not for a chance occurrence. Of course, I was making eyes at Sergey whenever my Oleg wasn't looking; it was such a turn-on. A whole evening and night in the company of men—I was practically drooling standing next to them.
The bite was pretty good, fish
were being caught, we started cooking fish soup, and I also baked pike with vegetables over the campfire. In the fresh air, our appetites were raging; we ate everything and drank some cognac. The blood was pumping, we sat by the fire for a long time, telling tall tales, but eventually, it was time to turn in. My husband laid out the seats in the car, making a decent bed, though it would have been better for two, but we were cozy and not offended. Of course, my husband didn't put me in the middle; he lay down himself, I was on one side, his friend on the other. We covered ourselves with two blankets.At night, I'm sleeping and feel a hand on my ass. I think, "What a time to get fresh," but I started pressing my butt against him and rubbing against his erect penis. For some reason, when you can't, you want it even more. Then more—he pulled down my pants along with my panties; we were sleeping in our clothes. He started making his way under my t-shirt to my breasts and caressing my nipples. The bad part was I couldn't move much, or our friend would wake up and that would be a buzzkill.
His rock-hard cock was searching for an entrance and kept trying to go in the wrong place. I reached my hand down, guiding him into my vagina, and then suddenly I clearly realized that this wasn't my husband's penis. I don't know how Sergey ended up next to me; maybe one of them went out for a smoke and crawled back in, lying down in the wrong spot. But the fact remained: it wasn't my husband fucking me, and I didn't even have time to get scared. An intense passion overwhelmed me and knocked all sense out of me; I quickly impaled myself on Seryoga's cock and whispered: "Fuck me hard!" Which he started doing. I was a little worried about it not being too loud, since everything was well-lubricated. Very soon, I exploded. Sergey squeezed me and came too. We quickly adjusted our clothes, and he quietly opened the car door and went out for a smoke.
Then I feel a hand on my ass again. Now it was my husband deciding to assert his rights over me; he moved closer, hugged me, started nibbling my ear and groping. Then, in one swift move, he took off his pants and mine, and thrust deep into me. His intensity turned me on, and I started thrusting back to finish quickly. I slipped my hand down and started stroking my clit. An orgasm washed over us simultaneously, and my vagina clenched his cock, refusing to let go. Sergey came back in and went to sleep, while we lay there for a long time; then my husband pulled out his pride, I pulled up my pants, and satisfied with such a catch, I fell asleep. In the morning, I kept glancing at my husband; it seemed he hadn't noticed the infidelity. I'd love to go on another fishing trip like that!