With four days remaining of my vacation — only three of them alone — I woke and immediately sent a text telling Cyril that last night had been amazing, adding, ‘Hope we can do it again’. 

An hour later he responded saying he was at the beach and wondering where I was.

‘I’m relaxing today but I can still smell you and taste your semen,’ I sent.

Back came: ‘You are amazing and your pussy is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. It was truly an honor to share the evening with you’.

Cyril said he'd like to see me before my husband came, even if it was only on the beach. I told him I’d be there at ten the following morning.

The rest of the day I spent cleaning, cooking, and relaxing in my tent. I responded to emails, work stuff, and replied to some website guys who wanted to fuck me — as usual.

I thought about Cyril. I liked him: he made me feel like a million dollars and as if I was the only woman alive. That’s great, of course, but I love my guy and sometimes I just need to be fucked not loved. Do you understand? Hell, my hubby stopped doing rough stuff as we grew together because he “loves and respects me too much” — that’s crap. I decided that when I got home, I would play hard more often with or without him.

New neighbors arrived: a hot couple to the left, two men from Colorado across from me, and three women on my right. I hoped for more than a hello but that’s all I got. I walked the campground to see if there was anyone worth pursuing but I didn't have any luck.

The next day, I packed a bag and a Uber drove me to the beach where I walked to the nude area. Cyril was in his regular spot and I plopped down next to him, disrobed, and waved to our creepy neighbor, George. 

The sun was hot and we chatted about everyday topics until Cyril blurted, “By God, I want to eat your pussy right here for lunch.”

“Excuse me,” I said, smiling, “do you think it’s easy for me to look at your penis and not want it in me?”

We laughed and I told Cyril about some of my adventures and pieces I’d written in my journal. When two guys glanced at me as they paraded past with their cocks sticking out as if they were showing them off, I said, “I should go and ask them both to fuck me.” 

Cyril laughed. “Is that something you do?” 

“In my head, yes,” I said. “But, if I thought I could get something like them, I would do it.”

Smiling, Cyril confessed he'd love to see me in action with somebody else and I said, “I’d like that, too.”

“I have an idea,” he said and began texting. 

I told George my back needed sunscreen and Cyril laughed as his fat ass friend ran over to rub oil on my back and shoulders. I told him he could put it on my ass and legs and George took his time doing it. But it made his day and I giggled hysterically as he trotted off.

By two that afternoon, it was too hot for me and Cyril said, “Let’s go for a boat ride.”

We drove to the launch like before, boarded the yacht, and headed toward Menemsha. I saw big houses as we drew close to a boat and Cyril shouted “Ahoy” a couple of times before a man came up from below.

After introducing me to John, another year rounder, Cyril said we were going around the island and he was welcome to join us. John looked younger than Cyril but I guessed he was still in his 60s. He brought some hard cider and we had a drink and set sail. 

Cyril told me to lie on the bow and relax and they talked and drank while we sailed around the island area. It was awesome and I highly recommend this place in the summer for anyone.

“Hey, you don't need that bathing suit,” Cyril shouted. “We’re in international waters.”

Not that I believed him but I disrobed and laid out again. I could see them looking at me, the wind blowing my hair, and it turned me on to think Cyril was telling him about our night. I kept cool and, eventually, Cyril called me over. 

Standing naked in front of him, John was speechless but Cyril asked me to put a leg on a part of the boat near him. I did and he said to John, “See, isn't that an amazing pussy.”

I smiled and played along: “Thank you, Captain. Any further orders, Captain?”

“You can go back now, Lindsay,” he said.

As I spread out again, I heard and then saw John approaching. “The Captain ordered me to put sunscreen on you,” he said. 

“Fine. If that’s what Captain said, you’d better do it then.”

I handed the tube to John and Cyril shouted, “Don’t forget the crack of her ass.” John certainly didn't neglect any inch of my ass before he scurried back to Cyril. I actually hoped Cyril would tell John to fuck me but we made a full circle back to his boat where I was ordered to give him naked hug. And that was that!

On the drive to my campsite, I said, “For a while there, I thought John was going to fuck me.”

“I thought about that, too,” Cyril said, “but then I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be jealous. So I never let it happen.”

I pondered the possibility of Cyril being jealous, what that really meant,  but I decided to change the subject. “My husband comes back tomorrow and we’re having dinner at the Inn.”

“Maybe I’ll spy on you.”

“I'll miss you,” I said. “But I’d like to stay in touch and play when I come back.”

When he pulled over to let me out, I asked for a hug.  He got out of the vehicle and gave me great hugs. I felt small in his old, giant arms. We kissed and he said, “Will you marry me?”

“I wish I could. I’ll text you,” I said and walked back for my final night at the campground. I was tired but sun-kissed and horny. I walked the grounds, hoping to find somebody to talk to, but most were families. I gave up and started cooking fish and veggies as the sun went down. I was expecting hubby to arrive by eleven in the morning. After a nice dinner at the Inn we would be heading home. 

By then, I was looking forward to being in my own bed and having walls and a roof again. It had been a long month of camping. I was applying aftersun lotion before going into my tent when I heard the clicking of a cyclist. I assumed it was one of the camp kids creeping around but I saw a man bike to the site besides mine. He had his stuff packed very professionally and the bike was obviously an expensive machine. 

He waved to me and I said, “Hi, neighbor," while thinking, ‘Maybe, just maybe.’ Then I told him that I liked his bike.

“Thanks,” he said, “it’s my partner on my journey”… or something like that. I nodded and he set up a one-man tent. 

I offered him wood for a fire: “Take what you want,” I said. “This is my last night.”

He gratefully accepted. “Thanks, I’m only here for tonight.”

I watched him set up camp and he offered me to join him around his fire. I asked if he smoked weed — “I’d love to” — and if he wanted anything to eat or drink. “A drink would be great. I don’t want to trek down to the camp store.”

Other than iced coffee for the morning, all I had in my cooler was a rare bottle of ginger ale that my husband drinks. I took that and the joint to the campfire and shook hands with Bob. I thought he was around my age but couldn’t really tell because his head was shaved. He looked super fit. 

We got stoned and laughed at stuff and he said he was biking all three islands and then the Cape. He’d planned to do the Pan Am challenge and, although it wasn’t happening this year, he still kept to the schedule. He was his own boss back in Western Mass.

“Right,” he suddenly said, “I need to take a shower before climbing into my little tent.”

“The outdoor showers here are the best,” I said. “I’ll join you.” 

“Really?”

“No, not join you in the shower… join you in the walk down there.”

“Oh,” he said and we laughed.

I got my soap and razor — he had a small bag — and with towels over our shoulders and masks on our face, we walked through the camp under the setting sun. We were stoned so we laughed a lot and he said, “Soap and a razor, huh?”

“Yes, that’s all I need. Soap for washing and I gotta shave my stuff.”

“Who cares about that when you're camping?” 

“I never know who might see my stuff and so I shave.”

He grinned at me. “Do people see your stuff often?”

“I’ve been at the nude beach almost every day since getting here,” I said and his surprised expression told me he didn’t know there was a nudist beach. I told him about it as we went into separate stalls and showered. We carried on our conversation through the walls and he mentioned something about having sex in the showers.

“I did that last year,” I said and he went quiet. I dried then waited for him to come out.

When he emerged, glistening in the darkness, he asked, “Did you really have sex in the showers? Was it with your husband?”

I couldn't recall telling him about my hubby but I answered, “No, it was with a guy I met here.”

More silence. Then Bob said, “Well, at least you’ll be with your husband tomorrow.”

“Oh, yippee,” I said sarcastically and he laughed. 

“At least you shaved in there, right?”

I nodded. “Hey, you never can be too sure,” I said and asked if he was married. 

“Divorced — but I don't want to talk about that.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” I said. “Let’s get back and finish that joint.”

Bob stoked the fire and I watched his muscles ripple in the firelight. I was very stoned and I teased him about his tiny tent. When he defended himself about biking and his schedule, I said, “Look, I was kidding. Anyway, it’s not always about size.”

“I hope not. But your tent is a lot bigger.”

“It sleeps four,” I said, “but I’ve never had four in it at one time.”

“Four seems a bit crowded. Doesn’t sound much fun,” he said.

“It could be if you’re all naked.”

“Are you into that?”

I grinned at him. “At times, yes. You’ve gotta live a little.”

“I guess three women and me would be fun.”

“See, there you go,” I laughed, adding, “By the way, if the skunks scare you tonight, you can come into my tent.”

“There are skunks?”

I told Bob how they overpopulated on the island after two pet skunks escaped in the sixties. Well, that’s how the story goes. He said he might take me up on my offer.

“I have rules. No shoes.”

“Of course.” 

“And no clothes.” He laughed and I added, “No latex, either. I hate it.”

“I can live with those rules,” he said. “I don’t have any rules.”

“Well, the offer is there if you want a big tent night.”

“Oh yes, I’ll be there,” he said and I left him to sort out his site.

In my tent, I got naked, thankful that I would be having one more good night. I waited… and waited… and it was something like thirty long minutes before he returned and asked if he could enter.

“You know the rules.” 

“I do,” he answered and came in wearing only shorts. He quickly removed them and I was hoping the wait had been worthwhile, that he had a big hard cock for me.

He lay beside me in the dark. “Hello,” I said and lunged to kiss him. He responded by grabbing my head and kissing me with strength and aggression. He kissed down to my wet pussy, mumbled about a good shave job, and dove right in. 

He was good and got really rough, pushing two then four fingers in me while he licked my clit. I soon came and had to bite my sleeping bag to prevent screaming and letting the whole campsite knowing what was happening.

Bob eased off. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Oh no, that was just fine, I like it that way,” I said. “But now it’s my turn.” 

I kissed down to a very hard, veiny cock. Close up, it looked just above average length so I could suck it all into my mouth. He had great girth and felt solid.

“Yeah, suck it,” he said and thrust forward to feed me. I sucked and licked and jerked him until he pulled me up and we kissed. He held me tight and it became very hot in there.

“This is a fantasy come true for me,” he said.

“Oh, do tell,” I said, resting against him.

Bob said that when he planned his trip, he’d hoped to find a female cyclist on her own and that they would become lovers along the way. Noticing that I didn’t have a car, only a bike, he thought he could at least try with me. But he’d been discouraged when he found out I was married, not single. 

I lightly touched his thigh. “Yet, here we are naked in my tent and I’m all yours for the night.”

“I wish I could see all your naked body,” he whispered, “but it’s so dark in here.” 

“When the sun comes up, you’ll see.”

“Hmm, yes… but I have to be out of here before eleven to catch the ferry.”

I told him my guy would be here before then and Bob asked how would he feel about this. “I don’t care. We are poly open.”

“That’s good for me, then,” he said and promptly mounted me, raising one of my legs. “I love fucking so let’s get to it.”

He slid right in and immediately began pounding me, occasionally leaning down to kiss my lips. His meaty cock felt good and he was in such good shape that he kept going and going in the same position till I said I wanted to ride him.

I sat on his cock and he said “tight cunt” a few times as I did my best to get myself off. When I came, it was so good that I wanted to yell but I didn’t, just got off his cock hoping for a break. But he flipped me over, raised my hips, and pounded me doggy style as hard as he could. His heavy balls slapped noisily against my clit and I came again in a few minutes. 

Still drilling me, Bob asked if I wanted his cum in my married cunt and I told him to do it where he wanted.  He pushed me flat on my tummy and thrust as deep as he could reach. I felt his cock enlarge and, as he unloaded, he kept thrusting till it was all out of him and into me. Bob wasn't out of breath when he rolled off, put one arm behind his head, and said, “Get down there and gobble me clean.”

He guided my head to his softening cock and I sucked what was left of his semen and my juices.

“At sunrise I'm going to have you again and cum all over that beautiful face of yours,” he promised as I sucked him soft. My thighs were very sticky as we fell asleep spooning.

I woke up to the sun and, as I was about to grab my new friend’s cock, he kissed my shoulders. “Rise and shine,” he said, putting a hand around my throat and kissing me. “The breakfast of champions,” he said, lifting me on to his face and proceeding to lick and rub my clit. 

I didn't get a chance to suck him before his iron rod entered me. In the missionary position, he looked into my eyes and thrust hard, kissing me and asking if I loved his cock.”This won’t be the last time we fuck,” he said while I smiled and let him have me. 

Raising my feet as high as they go, he slammed into me. Most men who’ve had me in this position stop after a few minutes at best — but not Bob: he pounded on and on until I came in floods. Only then did he slide out of my squelching pussy and lower my legs. But, with ease, he crossed them and flipped me over. This man was no amateur. 

He kissed down my back to my ass and began eating it, fingering me hard at the same time. I moaned but tried to be quiet and that made Bob work harder. When he fingered both holes at the same time, I almost came but he parted my legs with his knees and re-entered, pumping away for what seemed like forever.

I thought I was sure to cum again but I didn't and he kept going till he suddenly withdrew, gently rolled me over, and shot his seed along my body. It didn't quite reach my face but he got it all out and I lay covered in his cum while he looked down, smiling at me.

Eventually, he lay down and checked the time on his phone. He said he had an hour — but I didn’t. We didn't speak much as he got up to clear his site. I also cleaned up and felt guilty but had no idea why. I showered and was finishing tidying the tent when the car rolled in. I got a big hug and kiss from my man.

Bob was obviously curious to see my husband and he contrived to sort of meet him by popping across to say he was leaving the remains of a woodpile for me. He said his next destination was the campsite I’d been at before, then he nodded farewell and rode off.

Laughing, hubby insisted that I’d fucked Bob but I denied it, although I told him I’d given him the special ginger ale. He teased that I must have fucked him if I gave away his soda. The joke got old fast but I love my guy and, as we broke camp and I dressed to go to the restaurant, I pretended that I was excited because I’d never been there. 

Leaving the camp, I knew I’d be back next year but I felt happy to be going home. At the Inn, we had an amazing dinner during sunset. It was a perfect way to end my vacation. 

As we left, I saw Cyril at a table by himself and he smiled. 

“Look,” said hubby, “it’s the man from the beach, the one with the impressive penis.”

“Yeah, his name’s Cyril and he's Greek.”

“Oh, you met him?”

“Yeah, we were on the beach a bunch of times. It felt only right to say hello to people as they were all looking at me, anyway.”

“Suppose so. Guess he's a good guy,” said hubby, opening the car door for me.

“He’s actually a gentleman, not creepy at all,” I said. 

I slept a little on the journey and, back home, it was great to be greeted by my dog. Later, lying in bed looking at my all-over tan, I was grateful for the month’s vacation. I also decided I needed to sleep for the next month when not working. 

I sent texts to four of my lovers to thank them again and then had to silence most of them as it was never-ending texting. But not Cyril… as always, he was the perfect gentleman.

Good to be home.