Camping is a great time to meeting new friends.

It’s a muggy Saturday night in August, air thick with campfire smoke and salt from the bay. We’ve all had a few too many rum-and-cokes around the fire.

Jess (39, cute freckled waitress with a killer smile and real, heavy C-cups) has been glued to my side for two hours, laughing at everything I say, brushing her hand across my thigh under the picnic table. Mark’s cool with it; he’s the one who finally says, “You guys wanna head back to our trailer for another drink?” with a grin that says he knows exactly what’s coming. Inside the trailer the lights are low, just the little LED strip over the stove.

Jess doesn’t waste time. She backs me against the counter, kisses me hard, tongue first, then drops to her knees on the linoleum. Hands shaking a little, she unzips me and my 7½ inches spring out, thick and already leaking. She actually gasps. “Holy shit,” she whispers, looking up at me. “That’s… that’s what I’ve been missing.” She wraps her lips around the head, slow, then slides down as far as she can (about two-thirds before she gags).

Pulls back, tries again, spit already dripping. Mark’s sitting on the fold-out couch, jeans open, stroking his hard little 4-incher, watching his wife worship a bigger cock for the first time in ten years. Lena kneels beside him, kisses his neck, reaches down and jerks him easy with two fingers. Jess stands up, peels off her tank top (no bra), those full C-cups bounce free, pink nipples stiff. She shoves her shorts and thong down in one motion, turns around, bends over the tiny table, and looks back at me. “Please,” she says, voice low and needy. “I just want to feel full.”

I step up behind her, rub the head through her lips (she’s absolutely soaked), then push in slow. She moans loud, pushes back, takes every inch until my hips are flush against her ass. “Fuck, yes… don’t move for a second… let me feel it.” She clenches around me a few times, then starts rocking back, fucking herself on me. I grab her hips and start giving her long, deep strokes. The trailer is creaking, dishes rattling in the sink. Lena crawls under Jess on the table, licks her clit while I keep sliding in and out. Mark stands up, moves behind Lena, slides into her from behind while he watches me stretch his wife.

Jess reaches back, grabs my wrist. “Harder… please.” I start pounding her, skin slapping loud, her tits swinging under her. She comes the first time with a sharp cry, pussy clamping hard, soaking my balls. Doesn’t stop; just keeps pushing back, greedy for more. I pull out, spin her around, lift her onto the counter. She wraps her legs around me and I slide back in.

Face to face now, she’s staring right at me while I fuck her deep and steady. Lena’s moved to Mark; she’s riding him on the couch, but Jess and I are in our own world. Second orgasm hits her hard; she buries her face in my neck, bites me to stay quiet, whole body shaking. I’m close. She feels it, locks her ankles behind my back. “Inside me,” she whispers.

“Please.” I let go, pumping deep, thick ropes filling her up. She comes again just from feeling it, milking every drop. Spent, she kisses me slow, then turns to Mark, walks over bow-legged, kisses him just as deep, tasting like sex. Lena pulls her down onto the couch with them. Ten minutes later Jess is on her hands and knees again; this time Mark’s in her mouth while I take her from behind, slow and lazy, letting her savor being full one more time. We go three rounds before we crash, all four of us tangled on the pull-out, sticky and satisfied.

Morning comes, Jess makes coffee in one of Mark’s T-shirts, grinning, walking tender. She gives Mark a long hug, then me, whispers, “Thank you,” to both of us like she means it with her whole soul. We swap numbers, say “maybe next summer.” Never did it again, but every time we drive past that campground we still smile