Lizzie Under Canvas, Part 2

 In my top three memories of life with Lizzie over these last ten years, our wedding night remains at number one, but the time we spent camping on the trail in Spain comes a close second.

By way of comparison, let me explain about our wedding night in 2014.

Lizzie and I were both long-standing members of the swinging/sharing / hot-wife community when we met, and had been together a couple of years before we got married, so in my mind, there was inevitably going to be a sexually adventurous element to our wedding.

Because it was a special day and a special fantasy of mine, which Lizzie fully and enthusiastically supported, I wanted to create an unforgettable scenario. So, for the first and only time, I hired a male escort.

David wasn't just any guy from a Google search, though; he was an accomplished, if only moderately well-known, adult movie actor. Lizzie and I watched his work in several scenes – although to be honest, my wife was convinced the moment she saw his huge cock, and we both witnessed his staying power as he stayed hard during position swaps and changes of partner until finally exploding and sending thick cum onto the upturned face of a young black woman.

The contrast between his milk-white sperm and her beautiful, liquid chocolate skin was stunning.

Lizzie and I fucked lazily on and off throughout the movie, our eyes on the screen, until I felt her cum at the exact moment David did, her cunt squeezing my cock.

“He’s the one, I assume?” I asked, as I lay next to her on our bed, some minutes later.

"Yes, please", came the sleepy reply.

I invited David to the whole wedding day, telling the other guests that he was an old colleague. David sat with my friends and family, chatting happily and getting on wonderfully with everybody he met – he was charming, charismatic, funny, and, of course, very handsome and well built – he was a magnet for the women, and he was in his element.

David also knew how to dress, being one of the most intelligent people at the wedding. Even when compared to the ushers and best man, his tailored suit and gleaming white shirt stood out. His expensive watch and cufflinks were carefully chosen to add just enough indication of wealth and taste without being gaudy.

I didn’t spend very much time with David during the day – I bumped into him a couple of times and he played the happy guest perfectly, probably because he was, in fact, a happy guest.

I clearly remember seeing him sitting in the church just behind my family, and his eyes were glued to Lizzie, her expensive strapless white wedding dress cinched at the waist and showing her shoulders and long, beautiful neck to their best advantage. The dress had taken many months and much travelling, and, finally, many fittings, to get right, and most of the female side of Lizzie’s family and all of her friends had been involved at some point. The cost had been eye-watering.

The result was stunning.

Sitting just above the knee and tailored to accentuate Lizzie's wonderful thighs and ass, the dress could not have been more perfect. By design, it was just a little off pure white, and the inlaid floral pattern was intricate and subtle.

Lizzie walked up the aisle in white heels, her black stockings, I later discovered, paired with a white suspender belt and panties bought for the occasion at some expense from a high-end Italian lingerie designer.

After the vows, I raised my new wife's veil to kiss her, and from the very corner of my eye, I could see David looking hungrily on.

At the reception, I caught glimpses of David dancing with a succession of women, married, single, young, and old; he seemed content to play the gracious partner and was especially good at flattering the older ladies and getting them up for a whirl around the floor.

Lizzie had studiously ignored David all day, and only when we were seeing guests off and preparing to retire to the bridal suite at around 03:00 the next morning did she say, softly, “Send him to our room.”

Adrenaline immediately pumping, cock coming alive in my trousers, I quickly found David in a comfy wing-backed chair near the bar, chatting happily to Lizzie’s older sister. I asked him for a quick word and, out of sight of Emma, palmed him a spare room key.

As I said goodnight, David made as if to leave, gathering his jacket and patting his pockets for his phone. I turned away as Emma said she’d better go and say goodnight to Lizzie, but not before I heard her whisper something I didn’t catch to David and give him a hug and a kiss.

As I returned to my wife, who was seeing the last stragglers off near the hotel reception, I glanced back and saw that David had gone.

Emma chatted with Lizzie for a few moments, and then they embraced. Suddenly, my new wife and I were alone as Emma went to join her boyfriend in their hotel room next to ours.

We kissed, then walked up the sweeping, ornate central staircase to our home for the night, the bridal suite.

My heart racing, I opened the door for my wife and stepped aside, allowing her to enter, then followed her into the room and closed the door behind me.

David emerged from the dimly lit bedroom holding two glasses of champagne, handing one to each of us.

Lizzie took her glass and immediately placed it on the table in the hallway untouched. Stepping into David's arms, she took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, her eyes closed, his hands moving on her back, falling to the base of her spine, just above her fantastic ass.

David was tall, but Lizzie’s heels meant that she barely had to reach up, and he hardly had to stoop as they embraced, their kissing becoming very passionate in an instant.

I was hard, my cock pushing against the trousers of my morning suit. I was aware of the blood pumping in my neck as it was still constrained by the collar and bow-tie I wore.

Lizzie was moaning, her hands tearing at David's shirt, her mouth never leaving his. They were still in the hallway, the chair by the writing desk knocked aside, Lizzie's ass pushed against the edge of the desk so that part of it rested on the old-fashioned green leather pad on its surface.

David's shirt was open, and Lizzie's hands were on his smooth, muscled chest, her hips now making little thrusts towards his crotch as he tore his cuffs open, gold links flying across the room, and threw his shirt aside.

Making her inhale sharply with surprise, David spun my wife around as if she were a rag doll. Lizzie placed her hands flat on the desk, staring at herself in the mirror as we heard David drag his zip fly down behind her.

I quickly moved for a clearer view and watched as David shuffled Lizzie’s tight wedding dress up her thighs, a little at a time, one side then the other, until it bunched on her hips.

I gasped, and so did David, as we saw the suspenders and stunning lingerie, white lace, intricately woven into an ornate pattern which looked like a style modeled on the 1920s, stretched over Lizzie’s amazing ass.

The tops of Lizzie's thighs and her calves were toned and tight as she bent forward, her elbows on the desk now, her eyes still locked to the mirror as she watched David and me behind her.

David reached between them and, with an effort, pulled his cock from his flies. It was even more impressive in person – thick, veined, about 11 inches long, circumcised and very, very hard.

I watched, mesmerized, as David pushed Lizzie’s panties aside with the head of his cock, revealing her glistening, bald cunt, open and ready to receive him.

Sliding smoothly, slowly into my wife, David closed his eyes and tilted his face to the ceiling in pleasure.

Lizzie groaned loudly, pushing back toward him, her ass raised and her head lowered into the crook of her elbows so that her forehead touched the leather desk covering.

The sight of David pounding into my new wife, her swollen cunt lips stretched tight around his massive cock, his shaft dripping with her cum, was, and is, the most incredible thing I have ever seen.

That first fuck, in the hallway as she watched herself in the mirror, sometimes glancing at me as I stroked my cock, is etched into my memory, every tiny detail:

Like how whenever she dropped her face from the mirror, David pulled her veil, still attached to her hair, to bring her eyes back to the glass again.

Like how he held several thousand pounds ' worth of bunched-up wedding dress in a steel grip to hold Lizzie against him and give him purchase as he rammed into her.

Like how she always asked him to stop as she came on his cock, and every time he ignored her and thrust harder, making her scream and cum again.

Like how the desk was banging the wall so hard they must have heard it in reception.

Like how he asked my wife, as he fucked her, what a woman who had a stranger’s cock inside her on her wedding night was (“a fucking whore slut”, was Lizzie’s answer).

Like how he reached over her arched back to grab her chin to turn her face to me, telling her to look at me when she came on his cock.

Like when he read my wife her sister’s phone number from a scrap of paper in his pocket, explaining that she had given it to him and told him she wanted his cock.

Each time David came that night, he launched heavy white streams inside my wife, onto her face, into her hair, over her expensive dress – seemingly wherever he wanted, and I admit that I tasted it from more than one of those places.

When it was finally over, probably around breakfast time, the sun having long ago risen, I was lapping hungrily at Lizzie's well-used, cum filled cunt. She was holding my hair tight, cumming over and over into my mouth, when we heard the door click shut, and David was gone.

When we emerged for lunch, we got several knowing looks from guests whose rooms had been near ours. Lizzie's sister, who had been in the suite next to ours with her boyfriend said, quietly to us, an impressed look on her face as she glanced involuntarily at my crotch, "I thought you two were never going to fucking stop last night. Also, Lizzie, word to the wise – you are NOT quiet."

A lengthy explanation as to why our hiking adventure doesn't make the number one spot, but I hope you agree it merited it.

On to number two in the list – the nights we spent under canvas in Spain.

We were sitting with our traveling companions around the campfire in a large circle – there were a few who had elected to set up their camp chairs, but most of us were sitting on the wooden benches mounted on tree stumps, which were all over the site – a well-known spot for trail walkers to stop for the night.

I had Lizzie on my right, her face illuminated by the bright flames from the large brazier in the center of our party’s group.

To Lizzie’s right was Angela, the younger of the two trail guides, who had, much to my embarrassment, caught sight of the bulge in my shorts earlier in the day as Lizzie told me about her sexual experience with an old girlfriend of hers the last time she went camping, many years previously.

I had one of the single guys on my left and he was intent on keeping my attention focused on politics, which I struggle with at the best of times. Still, on this warm night under the stars in Spain, the volume of our various conversations seemed to soften as the night grew darker automatically. The wildlife in the surrounding trees became more audible. I was desperate to get away from him.

Lizzie was deep in conversation with Angela, and they seemed to be becoming firm friends already, so I told the boring man on my left that I needed to pee and wandered away from the circle. I stood some way off in the darkness, just beyond the light of the fire, and leaned back against a giant tree, staring out at the stars, which were clearer in this light-free area of the country than I had ever seen before.

An outburst of laughter brought my attention back to the group a little distance in front of me. I felt a thrill flash through me as I thought I saw… yes – certainly, Angela's hand was on my wife's lower back, having pulled Lizzie's top up very slightly to expose a couple of inches of bare skin.

I stared as I began to become aroused.

Lizzie has had several encounters with women over the years I've been with her, and she's always had a great time, but it's not a regular fantasy of hers. I would not say that she's ever actively sought the company of other women, sexually, so this was a little surprising, if extremely welcome.

I moved a few paces closer, keen to stay out of the light as far as possible, and got a clear view of Angela gently rubbing Lizzie's back, sliding up a little under her top, and then down to the base of her spine where, I realized with a start, she had dragged Lizzie's thong up a little and was tugging it now and then, which I knew Lizzie would be feeling between her cunt lips and against her clit.

As Lizzie wasn’t making any signs of stopping Angela, and, indeed, their conversation seemed even more animated than when I had left them a few minutes earlier, I could see that this might end up being an interesting night..

Shortly afterwards, the group broke up, with lots of calls of “Goodnight!” and reminders to be up early in the morning.

Angela kissed my wife once on each cheek, European style, and they separated to go to their tents.

I joined Lizzie at our tent and we got undressed and under the cover of our sleeping bag, both naked as is our custom, even when camping on a forest trail!

I started to ask Lizzie about what I had seen, and it was clear that she had no idea I’d been watching.

As soon as I told her I’d seen Angela stroking her back, my wife grabbed my right hand and pushed it between her parted legs, where my fingers found her soaking cunt.

Lizzie moaned as I started to finger her.

“Angela told me, fuck. That’s nice, I’m so fucking wet, don’t stop. Angela told me that she saw us when I gave you head in the woods earlier.”

I was stunned. “She saw us?” I asked, surprise in my voice.

"Fuck, yes. Fuck that's so good." My wife replied.

“She followed us because she had noticed you were hard, earlier. She said that. Wow, fuck. She said that she loved how I - how I gave head.”

This was making me very hard.

Lizzie, through pants and moans as she pushed against my fingers, told me that Angela had told her that she was Gay, but had been with men in her youth and had always sucked cock because she didn’t like to be fucked, and was fascinated with it still.

Angela had also, however, told Lizzie that she was now an absolute expert on giving head to women, and had described in detail, in low murmurs, what she’d like to do to Lizzie if Lizzie would let her.

I asked Lizzie what Angela had told her, but at that moment, Lizzie grabbed my wrist, holding it still between her legs, and came, drifting off to sleep almost straight away.

I was exhausted too, it had been a long day for a man not used to much outdoor exercise, and I was quickly asleep next to my wife, my fingers still a little inside her wet cunt.

I woke at first to the noise of the tent zip being slowly lowered, but I became fully alert when I felt my hand being firmly lifted from between my wife's legs and placed in my lap.

Forgetting for a few seconds where we were, I began to struggle in the confines of the sleeping bag, thrashing around like a baby elephant until I heard my wife, slightly breathless, “Martin! It’s OK, it’s just me, well, and Angela.”

I heard kissing and, still a little fuzzy, found my phone and illuminated the tent with the screen.

Angela put her hand out to indicate I should lower the phone and remove the sudden brightness in the pitch black, but didn’t stop kissing my wife, lying on the other side of her, against the tent wall.

The two women had their hands in each other's hair, and I could see from the rapid, purposeful movement of their jaws and mouths that their tongues were darting in and out of their joined lips to meet each other.

I was, of course, hard instantly.

I put my phone inside the sleeping bag and turned the torch on, which gave a muted orange glow, just enough to see everything that was happening.

Breaking off from kissing, Angela, her hand on Lizzie's forehead, gazed into her eyes and asked, "Would you like me to?"

Lizzie smiled and nodded, then let her hands run over Angela’s back, sliding up her body until they reached her head, then dropping her arms out to her sides and moaning as Angela moved down Lizzie’s naked body, kissing her skin every inch of the way until her mouth was level with my wife’s cunt.

Angela dragged her vest-top off, exposing heavy breasts which hung over Lizzie's thighs, the nipples elongated and erect, then, reaching down and out of sight, shuffled her sleeping shorts off and tossed them absently to me without looking in my direction, leaving her large body naked in the glow from my phone.

Angela pulled her hair back and tied it in a rough knot, and then, her gaze never leaving my wife's eyes, pushed Lizzie's thighs open and lowered her mouth to my wife's cunt.

Lizzie arched her back and closed her eyes, her hands falling on Angela’s naked shoulders and neck, caressing her gently, her fingertips sliding over Angela’s tanned skin, always in motion, in a way I had never seen her do with a man going down on her.

The whole thing was more gentle, tender, and sensuous, and I became aware that when I went down on my wife, it was with the intent of making her cum as fast as possible, whereas this was something else.

Yes, I did not doubt that Lizzie would cum, but Angela seemed intent on making it happen in Lizzie's own time.

As I stroked my rigid cock, ignored by both women, I was treated to 30 minutes of Angela running her tongue so gently over Lizzie's cunt lips that I could barely see them touching. However, my wife could very much feel it, then pausing at her clit for long seconds, immobile but for very light sucking, then her tongue darting hard and fast inside Lizzie's cunt, then up her body to her nipples.

Angela paused frequently to kiss Lizzie passionately, Lizzie’s cum and cunt juices stretching, silver in the glow from my phone, between their lips as Angela drew away to slide down Lizzie’s body again.

At one point, Lizzie was straining hard, her breathing deep, eyes closed, hands on Angela's head, when Angela withdrew her tongue and said, softly, "Not yet, beautiful woman, just wait, I'll let you soon."

Lizzie moaned in frustration as Angela waited for the urgency to subside and then began building it up again with her flicking tongue.

When Angela finally allowed my wife to cum, it was explosive.

This time, when Angela got Lizzie to the edge, she moaned herself, muffled by the fact that her face was in Lizzie's cunt, and began to move at double speed, pushing fingers inside Lizzie for the first time as she continued to lick her.

Angela forced my wife's thighs further apart so that she could run her tongue almost down to her asshole, running her tongue back to her clit and repeating it over and over.

Lizzie’s knuckles were white as she gripped Angela’s hair, not allowing Angela to pull away this time.

Lizzie bucked her hips, arching her back so that only the balls of her feet and her shoulders and neck were touching the floor of the tent, ramming her cunt into Angela’s eager mouth.

I have never seen the cords on my wife’s neck stand out so prominently, nor her face and thighs so red with the heat of her blood.

The straining of her thighs and the flexing of her calf muscles and biceps as she fucked Angela’s mouth was so stunning that I came even though shock had made me stop stroking my cock.

Lizzie made a lot of noise as she came, and I mean a lot, and it took many seconds for her to stop cumming.

When finally my wife relaxed and fell limply to the floor, Angela, smiling, her hands now either side of Lizzie’s head, bent to kiss her.

As Lizzie parted her lips, Angela opened her mouth and a long stream of Lizzie’s cum fell between them, Lizzie hungrily pushing her tongue into Angela’s mouth and crossing her wrists behind her head as they kissed for long seconds.

Angela raised some eyebrows by staying in our tent that night, making no pretense as she emerged, stretching, for breakfast along with Lizzie and me.

I heard Nikki, the other guide, ask Angela if everything was OK, and Angela replied, laughing, making Nikki laugh at her joke, that I had been having trouble satisfying my wife, so she had come over to help.

It wasn’t the last time someone else made Lizzie cum in that tent.