You Want Me To Do What?             Part 2

 

 

It took me all weekend to come down from the high I was on following my Friday night session with Betty. I just kept shaking my head in disbelief as it seemed like an impossible dream. Despite all my apprehension, I found everything about that night had been so intoxicatingly erotic, like nothing I had experienced before in my entire life. The whole experience was made so much more powerful by the incredibly intense sexual reaction of Betty, who had seemed to be consumed with pleasure throughout the night. I desperately wanted to picked up the phone and talk to her about it, but I knew that would be totally foolhardy, and I certainly did not want to do anything to jeopardise her marriage.

 

I was dismayed when I got a message from Betty at work saying she would not be able to meet with me for coffee that following week. I feared Betty had reconsidered our relationship and had decided to end it. It was therefore a major surprise when I picked up the phone on the Friday and heard Betty’s voice on the end. Her and Kate (her younger sister) had been planning to go on an overnight tramp on the weekend, but unfortunately Kate was not well and had pulled out. I knew that Betty and her sister were both keen trampers, and went out into the wilderness at every opportunity. Her husband did not enjoy the outdoors and refused to join them.

 

Betty wondered if I would like to join her on the tramp. I actually had planned a full weekend of redecorating my house, but when I weighed that up against the opportunity of spending time with Betty, it was just no contest.

 

Betty arranged to collect me from my house very early on the Saturday morning, and we set off on the two-hour driving to the wildlife park where we were planning to hike. As we drove we chatted away in the easy, relaxed manner that characterised our relationship. Betty did not mention the Friday night, and although I was desperate to talk about it I had resolved to say nothing until she raised the matter.

 

We hiked for over two hours before stopping for lunch in a bush clearing. I had not been tramping for several years, but was enjoying the unspoilt beauty of the native forest, plus the sheer isolation. We had not seen a single person since setting out.

 

As we ate our sandwiches for lunch I was aware Betty was unusually quiet.

 

“Come on girl, spit it out.” I decided to press the issue

 

“About the other night,” Betty began tentatively

 

“Yes?” I urged her

 

“Do you think worse of me for the way I acted?”

 

“Good heavens no! It was a wonderful and very special occasion.” I reassured her.

 

“It was great. You were great. Can we do it again sometime?” Betty blushed.

 

“We sure can.” I decided to jump right. “How about right now?”

 

Betty sat up with a start, and stared at me with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity etched on her pretty face.

 

“What do you mean?” She was staring at me with confused wide eyes.

 

“Stand up,” I commanded quietly.

 

For a long moment she continued to gaze at me, as if trying to figure out what I might be up to. Finally she slowly stood up. I could see she was apprehensive, but there was also a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. 

 

She stood, awkwardly fiddling with her hands, looking every bit like a nervous adolescent rather than a confident and successful 42-year-old woman. Even dressed in her khaki tramping clothes she was still a gorgeous site. All six feet of her.

 

“Take off your shirt.” A simple command.

 

“Wwwhat?” she asked, disbelieving, “Now? Here?”

 

“Right now, right here,” I reinforced.

 

With a deep sigh she slowly began to unbutton her shirt. I could tell that her breathing had become more rapid. Betty removed her shirt to reveal a conservative red sports bra. I reached out and took the shirt from her, placing it in my hiking bag.

 

“And the bra,” I held out my hand.

 

Betty looked furtively around her. “But what if someone comes?” she almost whispered.

 

I just tilted my head, raised my eyebrows, and continued to gesture for her to hand over her bra. Betty’s eyes locked on to mine, and for a moment there was a visual standoff before she lowered her eyes to the ground. It was the same, powerful gesture of submission I had witnessed in her on the Friday night.

 

Without looking up at me she reached behind, unclipped her bra and in one quick action removed it. One arm immediately came up to cover her breasts, while the other arm passed her bra to me.

 

I took the bra from her and placed it in the hiking bag along with her shirt

“Take your arm away,’ I requested quietly, but firmly.

 

Still looking down at the forest floor, she gently lowered her two arms to her sides. I was enthralled at the opportunity to again soak up the sight of her surprisingly full bosoms that jutted out invitingly from her tall slender frame.

 

“Just beautiful,” I murmured, causing Betty to blush. “But it is time to move on. Show us the way, pioneer lady.

 

“But I can’t hike like this,” she pleaded.

 

“You will, unless you want me to put you over my knee right now and give you a darn good spanking.”

 

Betty took a moment to weigh up her options. I briefly wondered whether the spanking was a more attractive option to her, however she decided otherwise and without another word she gestured for me to follow her along the trail. I followed closely behind my semi-naked companion. I was hopeful of being able to humiliate and punish Betty a lot more on the tramp, but decided to be patient and see how events played themselves out.

 

My opportunity came quicker than I had expected. We had been walking for another 30 minutes when Betty announced she needed to detour off into the bush to have a pee. I seized the opportunity.

 

“Before you can have a pee you will need to remove your shorts and panties, and give them to me for safe keeping,” I announced, trying to suppress a smile. I even impressed myself with my ingenuity.

 

Betty looked at me sardonically. “Not bloody likely, mate. I will hold it, thank you.”

 

We continued on for another forty-five minutes, but I could tell Betty was in discomfort from her full bladder. Finally she stopped in her tracks and turned to me.

 

“Please Allan. I am bursting. I must relieve myself,” she pleaded, pressing her thighs together to further emphasise her desperation.

 

“You know my conditions. Shorts and panties please.” To be truthful I felt a bit cruel, but then I knew that Betty was not obliged to play along. She could simply walk off into the bushes at any time and relieve herself.

 

With an exaggerated groan she unzipped her shorts, and quickly lowered them along with her panties. She struggled to get them off over her tramping boots, before kicking them off. She was so desperate she could not stand in one place. It was a glorious sight to see a naked Betty doing her little jig.

 

“Hand them to me,” I demanded.

 

“Allan, you fucking bastard,” she cried out in exasperation, before picking up her shorts and panties, and placing them in my outstretched arm. “I swear I am going to pee myself.”

 

“Tut, tut. Such language my dear. That is hardly befitting a lady, and cannot go unpunished.”

 

“I am sorry, Allan. I do not normally swear.” Betty was genuinely contrite. “But, please, I must go!”

 

“Very well. But there is no hiding behind bushes for you. If you cannot behave like a lady, you will not be treated as a lady.”

 

Betty looked at me wide-eyed and stunned. “Pardon?”

 

I pointed to an area right beside the trail, in clear view of where I was standing. “That is your spot, right there.”

 

Betty opened her mouth to further debate the point with me, but no words came out. I knew what I was asking her to do was going to be gut wrenchingly humiliating. It was not behaviour befitting a lady. She hesitated a moment longer, but then resigned herself to her fate without further argument. Betty walked quickly to the spot, and squatted with her back to me.

 

“Face me!” I demanded, “And look me in the eyes while you are peeing.”

 

Betty groaned, but quickly stood, faced me, then squatted again. She glanced up and her deep blue eyes locked into mine, a small, embarrassed smile on her face. Sometimes her expressions were so child-like it could melt your heart. Within seconds her urine began to trickle out, before rapidly becoming a torrent. I was totally fascinated by the spectacle, being the first time I had witnessed a woman peeing out in the open like this. Watching a beautiful naked woman peeing was far more erotic than I ever would have thought.

 

When Betty had finally emptied her bladder, she remained squatted. To my surprise, and pleasure, she opened her knees wider, affording me an even better view of her labia, which were only inches off the wet ground below her. With a sly look on her face she slid her left hand down and cupped her vagina, and slowly began rubbing it up and down. Betty may have being protesting about having to pee in the open, but clearly the experience had excited her.

 

Betty stared into my eyes as she continued her slow, methodical strokes up and down her vagina. Torturing herself by not rubbing faster or harder. Perhaps a form of self-flagellation. I sensed she was waiting for some form of command from me, perhaps ordering her to masturbate until she came. She was too humiliated to do it of her own volition, but if I took control then the responsibility of choice was taken away from her.

 

But all in good time. I did not want to rush, and I was certainly not ready to allow her the relief of masturbating herself to an orgasm, despite the fact it would have been visually very appealing.

 

I let her continue to rub herself until her face was flush and her breathing was beginning to come in shorter rasps, before ordering her to stand up. She pouted her lip in a show of disappointment, but obeyed.

 

“Did I give you permission to play with yourself?” I tried to look at her sternly, suppressing a wry smile.

 

“Nooooo, sir,” she continued to pout like a sulking child

 

“I thought not. That will be extra punishment to go along with your swearing. Now lets get moving.” I couldn’t help smiling as Betty instinctively put one of her hands on her bare buttocks and gave it a small rub. She was undoubtedly visualising the pain of the spanking she was being promised.

 

Betty was clearly very uncomfortable walking in the nude, wearing nothing but her sunglasses and tramping boots. It was very entertaining to see her looking around furtively for any sign of human life. She reacted to any small noise by leaping behind the closest tree. However despite the fear and humiliation she did not once request her clothing back. She seemed resigned to her fate, and I was sure, deep down, she was enjoying herself. I decided to find out, and take the opportunity to humiliate this beautiful naked woman a little more.

 

“Stop!” I cried out, causing Betty to freeze mid-step, and look at me apprehensively over her shoulder.

 

I pointed to a large tree about ten yards off to the side of the track. “I want you to put your arms around that tree.”

 

Betty frowned at me. “But why?”

 

“Just do it,” I ordered, “And if you question any of my commands again you will be punished so severely you won’t be sleeping tonight.”

 

Betty flinched at the thought, then obediently made her way over to the tree. I knew she felt foolish and embarrassed, but she put her hands around the tree as if she was giving it a hug. The bark pressing up again her naked skin would not have been very comfortable.

 

I slowly wandered over and stood behind her. “Open your legs.”

 

This time she did not question my motives, and obediently opened her legs.

 

I lent forward and placed my head on her shoulder, before whispering into her ear, “Wider.”

 

Betty obeyed, sliding her feet along the dead leaves on the forest floor.

“Wider still,” I whispered into her ear, my voice barely audible.

 

She slid her gorgeous long slim limbs even wider.

 

“Wider still,” I repeated, so quietly she must have struggled to hear me clearly.

 

Betty strained to splay her legs even wider. I stepped back to get a better view. Her feet were incredibly wide apart, straining the muscles in her thighs. I could not believe how flexible she was. There must have been a gap close on 80 inches between her feet.

 

I took another step away from her so that I could get a better view of her pussy. Incredibly her labia were pried apart so that the entry into her vulva was clearly visible. The sight took my breath away, and I was aware my penis was uncomfortably rock-hard in my trousers.

 

I stepped up close to her again, and cupped my hand over her open vagina. “Am I going to find my little girl is all wet?” I whispered into her ear.

 

Betty groaned. I pulled my hand over her labia. They were very lubricated, and my fingers were wet with her juices. I held my hand in front of her face so that her wetness was clearly evident to her. “I think so!” I goaded.

 

I held my fingers closer to her mouth. “Lick my fingers,” I whispered, “And tell me whether you taste nice.”

 

Betty hesitated briefly before provocatively sticking out her tongue to lick each of my fingers in turn.

 

“Well?” I enquired, still in a barely audibly whisper.

 

“Well, what?” she whispered back, clearly struggling to follow the flow of conversation.

 

“Do you taste nice?”

 

I could see she was blushing profusely, probably from a mixture of embarrassment and sexual excitement. “I don’t know,’ she mumbled, I am hardly a connoisseur of how a woman tastes.”

 

I couldn’t help giving a small laugh. “I might have to send you on training course,” I joked. “Looks as if it is going to have to be up to me to decide if you taste nice. Stick you fingers in your cunt then let me have a taste.”

 

Betty lowered one of her arms from around the tree and ran her fingers over her swollen and damp labia.

 

“Come on, you can do much better than that, “ I cooed into her ear. “I want to know what you taste like deep within your cunt. Stick those fingers way up there.”

Again Betty let out a heavy sigh, before thrusting two of her fingers into her vulva.

 

“Deeeeper,” I drawled, still whispering quietly into her ear, deliberately breathing hot air on her neck.

 

Holding tight to the tree with one arm, and her legs spread so wide the muscles were twitching from the strain, Betty thrust her fingers so deep into her vaginal cavity I thought her whole hand might disappear from view. Slowly she withdrew, bringing her hand up to rest on her shoulder, just inches from my face. Her fingers were liberally coated with her juices, testament to how excited she was. One by one, I sucked each of her fingers, dragging each digit deep into my mouth before noisily sucking on it.

 

Once finished I licked my lips. “That is without a doubt the best pussy I have tasted in my entire life,” I declared, causing Betty to giggle, embarrassed, but also hopefully a little flattered.

 

Betty had returned her arm to its previous position, so that she was hugging the tree tightly again. Despite the fact that her limbs must surely have been aching, and the bark from the tree tender against her naked flesh, she seemed content to remain in that position and soak up the feeling of submission. I let her remain in the position a few minutes longer, content to take in the view, before reluctantly declaring it was time to move on. We still had a two-hour hike to our overnight campsite destination so I knew it was important we keep moving.

 

The hike up to the campsite passed without major incident. Betty had become bolder and more relaxed with her nudity and no longer dived behind the closest tree every time she heard a noise. However I wanted to ensure she was kept in a state of arousal so every fifteen minutes I directed her to stop, hug the closest tree, spread her legs wide, thrust her fingers deep into her vagina, then hold her hand up to demonstrate she was still lubricated. If I felt she was a little dry I would get her to repeat the thrusting several times until she was wet to my satisfaction. I could tell she was getting desperate to climax, but I wanted to keep her in this wanton state of arousal.

 

Once we arrived at the clearing where we planned to camp overnight we erected our tent and lit a fire. Betty was by now totally relaxed with her nudity, and made no attempt to hide her private parts. In fact the opposite was true, as several times she bent over provocatively at the waist, ensuring I had a full view of her vagina and anus. To me she seemed like a bird set free from a cage. For so long she had been suppressing her sexual fantasies and desires, and now she was finally able to give them full flight. I felt privileged to be able to witness, and participate in, her first tentative steps to sexual freedom.

 

It had been a long day, made longer by our sexual diversions, or should that be perversions, along the way. We heated the food we had brought with us for dinner and ate heartily, even having the luxury of sharing a bottle of fine wine we had carried with us. By the time we had finished it was still light, although the sun was getting low on the horizon. The flames of the fire gave a surreal glow to the long naked limbs of Betty as she sat cross-legged on the ground, wearing only her tramping boots.

 

As I glanced across at her I could tell she was trying to look relaxed, but her face could not hide her anticipation, and anxiety, of the promised punishment she was expecting me to deliver. I was not about to disappoint. Silently I stood up and walked to my hiking bag, fumbling around until I pulled out several short lengths of rope. Slowly I walked over to a large cedar tree about twenty yards away. I could tell Betty was watching my every move.

 

I threw the longest rope over a branch, and let it hang there ominously. Finally I turned to Betty, and gestured her to join me. She looked nervous as she took the long walk to her punisher. Once she was beside me I wordlessly removed her tramping boots and socks, then took one of the short ropes and tied her ankles together tightly, before taking hold of her wrists and securing them behind her back. Betty made no attempt to resist, and was breathing deeply. I then took her tied wrists and secured them to the rope hanging from the branch.

 

Once I started pulling on the rope her wrists were lifted high in the air, causing Betty to bend at the waist. Slowly I continued pulling until she was doubled right over, her face only about twenty inches from the ground. Her long arms seemed to be stretched impossibly high in the air, and the muscles were showing the strain. I secured the other end of the rope to the tree, before encircling Betty to inspect my handiwork. Her buttocks were totally exposed and completely at my mercy. She could do little to dodge her punishment.

 

As I just stood there admiring the view, Betty began calling my name quietly. She was trying to look around but was bent on such an angle, plus with her hair hanging down over her eyes, she could see little other than the small patch of ground immediately in front of her. I knew she felt extremely vulnerable. I placed my hand on her taunt buttocks, causing her to gulp with surprise. As I raised my hand she reflexively tensed herself

 

“You know why I am going to spank you?” I had my hand raised, ready to deliver.

 

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured with difficulty. I very much liked the way she naturally addressed me as ‘Sir’ when she was in these situations of extreme submission.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I swore at you, Sir,” she was barely audible

 

“And?” I pressed

 

“And I, um, I played with myself without permission, Sir.”

 

“And?” I decided to be contrary

 

“And,” she tried to think what else, “And….I am not sure why else, Sir.”

 

“And because you want me to spank you!” I spoke loud and clear.

 

“Oh,” was her mumbled response.

 

“Well, is that correct? You do want me to spank these sweet buttocks of yours? This seems to be the message I am getting from this little swollen pussy that is looking directly at me.” With that I rubbed the back of my hand gently over her labia, making sure I contacted her protruding clit.

 

Betty let out a long, low groan that sounded like the wildlife noises of the forest.

 

“Well?” I probed

 

“Please spank me!” she begged. Then to my surprise she added, “Spank me hard as I deserve it.”

 

I obliged, and gave Betty a hand spanking that was both vigorous and prolonged. Her buttocks turned from pink to dark red. I was surprised at how confident I felt administering the punishment, despite my inexperience. Her tears were flowing freely by the time I stopped.

 

I placed my hand on her buttocks and could feel the warmth. Betty wiggled her hips, and I could see she was even more aroused now than before the spanking. I again ran my hand over her damp and very swollen labia, causing her to push back towards me to try and increase the pressure of my touch.

I let my thumb gently encircle her clit, which again caused her to emit one of her deep groans of pleasure.

 

“Fuck me,” she whispered, so quietly I was not sure if I had heard correctly, and it was just wishful thinking on my part. I said nothing, but continued to play with her clit.

 

“Fuck me!” she repeated in frustration, so loud this time that there could be no mistake.

 

“Are you sure?” I held my breath. I wanted nothing more than to fuck this gorgeous creature long and hard, but I also did not want to do something in the heat of the moment that Betty would regret later on. Call me old fashioned, but I also had to respect the fact she was a married woman.

 

“Please fuck me!” she cried out in anguish, “I want you to fuck me so bad. Do it!”

 

I was not about to ask again. In a flash my trousers were unzipped and my rock hard penis sprung out. With the way she was bent over like a staple I only had to step forward and my cock was resting at the entrance to her vulva.

Betty pushed back towards me, and she was so wet that I slid deeply into her inner warmth with ease. I gripped hold of her hips with my hands and began to work her cunt up and down my shaft, slowly at first then gradually increasing the intensity. We both built to an orgasm far quicker than I wanted, but we both badly need to cum. When we did our screams of pleasure echoed through the forest.

 

I continued to hold tightly to her, my semi-flaccid penis still inside her, savouring the moment. Finally I forced myself to withdraw and quickly untie the ropes securing Betty. Once she was free she stretched her long limbs and rubbed her wrists, which had red welts from the rope. She then turned and kissed me.

 

“Is there more?” It was her turn to whisper in my ear.

 

“There certainly is.”

 

“Can I rest first?” she asked coyly

 

“No.” I responded firmly

 

“Can I at least pee?” she pouted

 

“Are you desperate?” I raised one eyebrow in an enquiring manner

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, what bad luck,” I smiled. “No, you can’t pee. At least, not yet.”

 

This caused Betty to pout, but she also couldn’t hide a slight smile.

 

“I think it is time we hugged a tree again.” With that comment I picked up the ropes, took hold of her hand, and led her another thirty yards or so deeper into the forest. Trees enclosed us, and with the sun beginning to set we were surrounded by dark shadows and shafts of sunlight. The forest was surprisingly quiet. Betty was wide-eyed and breathless, but said nothing.

I selected a suitable tree that had no low branches.

 

I turned to Betty. “You know what I want of you. Give the tree a hug.”

 

She obeyed without question, stepping up closely to the tree and stretching her long arms around the trunk. I took a rope and secured her hands, so that she was tied to the tree trunk.

 

“Now splay those legs of yours as wide as you can.”

 

Again she readily obeyed, stretching her long shapely legs wide around the base of the tree.

 

“Go wider for me,” I taunted. “I know you can do it for me.”

Somehow she managed to splay her legs even wider, displaying amazing agility for a woman of 42 years. I attached a rope to each of her ankles, securing her to the base of the tree. She was now firmly secured in her tree-hugging position.

 

I searched around until I found a thin, wispy branch, then returned to Betty. She turned her head apprehensively, and groaned when she saw the whip-like branch in my hand.

 

“Count,” I ordered, “and thank me.”

 

With that I let the whip whistle through the air and connect on her upper thighs, just below the crease of her buttocks. Betty cried out in pain.

 

“One, Sir,” she rasped, “Thank you, Sir.”

 

I repeated the dose another three times, each blow being aimed on her upper thighs. Betty dutifully counted and thanked me each time, despite her discomfort. Once I had delivered the fourth strike I left without a word, leaving her secured to the tree in the shadows of the forest.

 

I returned to the campsite and waited for fifteen minutes before walking the short distance back to Betty. Without a word I brought the whip down on her again, this time on her lower back. Again I delivered four blows, and she counted each one out loud and thanked me.

 

Again I wordlessly retreated, before returning in another fifteen minutes. This time the whippy branch was aimed firmly on her buttocks, still reddened from the earlier hand spanking. Betty counted out the first four blows through increasing tears. Clearly she thought I would stop after the fourth, and was taken by surprise when I continued with another two strikes to her tender buttocks. She sobbed into the tree.

 

I put down the branch and placed my hand on her buttocks. I was pleased that I could not feel any major welts on her soft skin. I stroked her gently.

 

“I am going to pee,” she murmured quietly, her head still resting against the tree trunk. “Can I do it now?”

 

“You certainly can,” I whispered into her ear.

 

Even before I stepped back I could hear the sound of her urine trickling out of her. I watched fascinated as she relieved herself, the flow spraying out of her clearly visible urethra and onto the tree truck, cascading down in small waterfalls. I was again surprised at how erotic I found the scene. Up until this day I had always regarded having a pee as a private necessity, and never thought of it in relation to anything erotic. I concluded it must be yet another of those little perversities of mine that have lain dormant for so long until Betty emerged.

 

I waited until the flow of urine was down to a mere trickle before placing my hand on her vagina, initially stroking her labia, then encircling my thumb around her engorged clit. She was already highly aroused and quickly began moaning with pleasure. However whenever I could feel her beginning to ride the crest of an orgasm I stopped stimulating her until she came down from on high. Soon she was desperate to orgasm and her body was writhing against the tree trunk. Incredibly she managed to rotate her hips so that her clit was rubbing against the bark of the tree, and despite the discomfort she began grinding herself against it. She was literally masturbating herself against the tree.

 

As her breathing became heavy I lubricated my middle finger with her juices, then without warning pushed it into her exposed anus. She gasped out at the shock invasion, but at the same time it caused her body to tremble as a massive orgasm cascaded over her. The orgasm was long and intense. I left my finger imbedded in her until I felt her body go totally relaxed. I then withdrew, gave her a light kiss on the cheek, and departed, leaving her secured to the tree in the gathering darkness.

 

By the time I returned an hour later night had enveloped the forest. Betty looked at me with a sleepy, content gaze. I removed the ropes and assisted her to stand up. She took a moment to get the blood flowing normally through her legs and arms, then gingerly followed me back to the campsite. We drank coffee, ate some chocolate, and recounted the events of the day. Betty was very open about how she felt, and I was ecstatic when she revealed the day had been a fantasy come true.

 

We were both worn out by the hike and the sexual escapades, and retired early.

 

As the sun rose, we bathed nude in the freezing water of a nearby stream. After drying off I dressed. Betty remained nude, except for putting on her socks and tramping boots. I did not offer to give Betty her clothes, and she did not request them. In the light of the day I could see she had small grazes on her abdomen where she had been masturbating herself against the tree the previous evening. I wondered how she was going to explain them to her husband. Her buttocks, thighs and lower back were largely unmarked apart from some minor signs of bruising.

 

I had decided I wanted to keep Betty sexually aroused for most of the tramp back to our vehicle. Therefore before setting off I ordered her to hug a tree and stick her fingers into her vagina, and when she felt she was well lubricated she was to display the evidence by showing me her juices on her fingers. It did not take her long to return to me, and blushingly displayed her very damp fingers.

 

We repeated this scenario several times on the hike back, ensuring Betty was kept aroused and frustrated. By the time we were approaching the area where we had left her motor vehicle she was nervous and flushed, from a combination of her prolonged sexual arousal, combined with her concern at being discovered nude by fellow trampers.

 

For the first time, when we were barely 15 minutes from the motor vehicle, she pleaded I return her clothing to her. I refused, and kept walking. Finally we could see the area ahead of us where our vehicle was parked. Betty froze, as there were three other cars parked adjacent to hers. Two men stood at the rear of one of the cars and were packing there hiking bags into the boot. They looked as if they had just returned from a tramp, and therefore were most likely only just ahead of us on the trail.

 

Where we were standing, Betty and I were just before the clearing, and partly hidden by the edge of the forest. Betty frantically stepped behind a tree before turning to me and begging for the return of her clothing.

 

“Hug the tree,” I ordered.

 

“Allan, please, I beg of you,” she pleaded.

 

I repeated my command, this time much louder. One of the men looked up, spotted me, and gave me a friendly wave. I wave back. Betty spotted this interaction and looked at me mortified.

 

“Please,” she silently mouthed

 

“You know what I want you to do. Hug the tree.”

 

Betty glanced around the side of her tree to view the two trampers, and was relieved to see they were still packing their car. With a sigh she put her arms around the tree. I walked over to her, unzipped my fly and removed my penis. Without ceremony I rammed it deep into her well-lubricated vagina. Betty bit hard down on her lip to suppress her normal deep groans of pleasure. We both fucked hard and climaxed in unison.   

 

As we finished we both glanced around the side of the tree to see that both of the trampers were walking over in our direction. I quickly handed Betty her clothing and in a flash she disappeared into some nearby bushes.

 

The trampers introduced themselves, before enquiring if we were okay, as they had heard some strange noises coming from our direction. At that moment Betty emerged from the bushes, fully clothed but still flushed.

The men gave me a knowing smile before returning to their vehicle.

 

It had been some hiking trip. I hoped it would not be the last, and I briefly fantasized at the possibilities of having Betty’s younger sister, Kate, along with us next time we ventured into the wilderness.