"Are you trying to get us arrested?" Shelley Ordwell's voice was too full of restrained laughter to be a rebuke.
"Not me!" Ross Ordwell leaned to his left and peered closely at his wife's uncovered tits. He had removed her halter as she drove the big station wagon over the county highway, and now he could admire the ripe firmness of the exposed jugs at close range. "You're doing the driving, Shel!"
"Sure, and when some patrolman pulls me over to ask why I'm half-naked, you'll just sit there and watch the fun. I know you!"
"The turn-off's just around the next curve," he told her. "You'll be driving up Harp Lake Road before you know it. And no patrolmen use that road." He unfastened the waist of her shorts and started to work them down off her hips.
"Ross!" she shrieked. "Can't you wait until we get there?" Again, her voice held more amusement than irritation, and she lifted her ass as she held her weight on the steering wheel; she was too fond of those shorts to have them torn.
"No, by God!" he answered, slipping the garment down over her sleek thighs and letting them fall to drape loosely around her trim ankles and calves. "When this car stops, I want to be ready for a wild fuck. I've been horny and hard ever since we left the freeway!"
Shelley kicked off her left shoe and worked her foot free of the clinging shorts, thankful that the vehicle had automatic transmission. She shifted her freed left foot to the gas pedal while she extricated her right foot from the wad of dust-covered fabric that had been, moments before, her favorite shorts – fresh from the wash. As she got her right foot back on the gas pedal, Ross put his lips over her right nipple and sucked at it hungrily.
"Ross!" she yelled. The surprise made her foot press down in reflex, accelerating their rate of travel just as she wanted to slow down for the turn-off. Her right arm clamped down on his neck, and she held it tightly within the crook of her elbow as she braked, signaled and turned off onto the side road that led to Harp Lake.
She stopped the car twenty feet from the county road and Ross got out to unlock the big steel gate in front of them. Shelley drove through and, while Ross closed and locked the gate, she let up on the brake, allowing the vehicle to steal slowly away from him.
"Hey!" he yelled, running to catch up and climbing inside to sit beside her, laughing and panting. "For a second, I thought you were going to drive off and leave me."
"I was going to, until I remembered you brought the only keys to the cottage and the boat."
"Ha! Smart-ass!" he countered. "They're on the chain hanging from the ignition in front of you. What a dumb broad I married!" He stuck his head back under her arm and resumed his nibbling and sucking. His hand crept into her crotch and teased the blonde fur of her cunt. His fingers detected a wealth of warm moisture there.
"Yeah?" she replied. The word was half moaned, for Shelley was just as hot for a fuck as he was. "Well, this smart-ass at least knew enough to renew her driver's license on her birthday, which is more than some people seem to be able to remember!"
For her dirty dig at his forgetfulness, Ross slid two fingers up her cunt and thumbed her clit rapidly, sucking and biting her tit.
She squealed as she steered the vehicle over the narrow bridge that spanned Diamond Creek at the north end of the lake. The car lurched and swerved as she struggled to keep her cool, but when she brought it to a stop in front of their cottage, it was diagonally parked at a crazy angle.
"Oh, God!" she whispered, opening her thighs more widely to his questing hand and sliding her ass forward on the seat to make her cunt completely available to him. Her left hand reached down to the seat lever and tripped it; she felt herself slide backward until the mechanism latched again.
Ross let her tit flip out of his mouth as he dove downward to get his face into her crotch. He got his hand out of the way as his nostrils flared at the warm woman-smell of her.
Shelley put her right leg over his shoulder and he pressed his mouth to her cunt, feeling the swollen thickness of the wet lips as they squished aside. He thrust his tongue into her hole and nibbled around it at the firmer flesh of the inner lips.
"Ross, honey!" she moaned. "Can't we go inside? I see the Cartwrights' car by their cottage."
But Ross was not to be delayed. He tongue-fucked her cunt swiftly for a while, hearing her responsive whimpers as she grew steadily hotter and more excited. He captured her clit in his lips and gave it a rapid tonguing. She moaning loudly and wiggled her ass on the seat, thrusting her pussy mound up at him eagerly.
"Oh! Fuck the Cartwrights!" she screamed as she came. Her back arched tightly and she screwed her cunt into his face for a second, then collapsed on the seat, gasping. Ross peeled off his shorts and athletic briefs and got onto the seat on his knees.
He stuffed his discarded clothing under her ass, then laid the tip of his cock in the slippery nest of her cunt and shoved it into her hole. He immediately began screwing wildly. He was not going to last long, he knew; he had been boiling for a fuck for hours, and he was too excited to prolong things.
"Oh, fuck it, Ross, Daddy!" Shelley cried happily, driving her ass upward hungrily to meet his thrusts. The fullness of his cock in her snatch, working back and forth to stir her juices into a froth, was sending her to the heights again.
Suddenly he buried his prick in her cunt to the balls and shuddered as the familiar electric thrills raced through his groin. He shot his semen into her swat, groaning lustfully at each jet, feeling her cunt close around his cock as she started to come again.
"Oohhh!" she moaned as strong orgasmic waves shook her.
They clung together until Shelley's spasms faded away; then Ross pulled out of her cunt, wiped his limp, dripping cock on his briefs, and shoved the dampened wad into her crotch. She brought her legs together to hold it in place.
"You unlock," she told him, handing him the keys from the ignition. "I'm going to make a fast dash as soon as the door's open."
Ross got out and strode to the front door of the cottage, chuckling all the way. His stride was normal, despite the fact that he wore only a short beach shirt and sandals. He glanced to his left as he neared the door, grinning as he saw Rhoda Cartwright's trim figure emerge from the front door of the only other cottage on this side of the private lake.
He unlocked the door and had just stepped inside when Shelley came breezing through to collide with him. She was giggling as he put his arms around her.
"We got… caught!" she panted. "Rhoda's on her… way over!"
"I know. I saw her come out of the house." Ross was laughing as they separated, but he knew he should prepare himself to be laughed at, for he heard Rhoda Cartwright's beach clogs clatter on the front porch. He looked away from the appealing nudity of his blonde wife to stare at his lovely neighbor.
Rhoda wore an ultra brief bikini that emphasized the ripe fullness of her tits and cunt mound. She and Shelley wore the same sizes in everything, but Rhoda had the dark complexion that went with her glossy black hair. She was toasted to a gypsy brown, and Ross knew that the color was the same under the skimpy covering, with three delicious exceptions.
Rhoda sunbathed with pasties that protected the tender tissues of her nipples and the moistly flaring lips of her cunt. Ross could see the deep cleft of that flare-lipped pussy where the tight bikini dug into it, and he felt himself starting to get another hard-on.
"I'm going to picket this place," said the brunette, walking through the open doorway to stand and stare at the semi-erect cock that peeped from below Ross' shirt. "You two are unfair to organized swapping. Couldn't you have waited a little longer?"
"Waited for what?" Ross said, wearing an innocent look.
"Come on. I know you knocked off a piece in the car!" Rhoda said. "Don't be so damned innocent!"
"What makes you think we'd do a thing like that?" Shelley asked.
"For one thing," Rhoda told her, "ordinarily you wait until you open the cottage to start undressing. And then there's the matter of Ross' shorts tucked into your crotch. I can smell fresh man-cum a block away!"
"And on that flimsy evidence…" Ross started to put up a weak defense.
"Besides which," Rhoda continued, "I watched you from our front window – with binoculars!"
"Christ!" Ross said. "At a hundred and fifty feet you must not have missed very much!"
"The hell I didn't!" Rhoda replied. "I missed the load you pumped into Shel. I hope you recover fast. We've been up here since 11AM and I've been itching for a good lay these last five hours. Jack made me wait… said he was saving himself for Shel."
"That's a damn lie!" said the big man who had come up behind Rhoda quietly. His hand brushed a lock of straw-colored hair out of his eyes as he stepped into the cottage and join the others. "She raped me before we were here fifteen minutes!"
"Blabbermouth!" Rhoda said accusingly. "I had 'em believing me, too. They were beginning to look guilty as hell."
"Not me!" Ross protested. "I gave up feeling guilty over any and all kinds of sex. I think it was for Lent… several years ago."
Shelley noticed that Jack's Bermuda shorts were bulging with the beginnings of a respectable erection, and she was still feeling the itch for fun.
"Our place or yours?" she asked, doing a gentle burlesque grind as she stared into Jack's eyes.
"Our place is all shipshape. Everything's ready for a party," Jack said, grinning.
"Yeah, after five hours I can imagine," Ross replied. "You must have a good foreman to leave a construction job that early in the day. I think we'd better organize things here. We haven't been up for weeks. Stick around and tend bar, Jack. I'll unload the wagon and the gals can chat while they put stuff away."
Jack opened up the bar that ran across one wall of the big living room and Ross went for the first cartons from the station wagon.
"Go ahead and shower, Shel," Rhoda said. "I know where you keep everything." Shelley smiled her thanks and went to clean up, holding the wadded shorts against her cunt as she hurried away.
Ross unloaded in three fast trips, took time for a quickie shower, and joined the others at the bar. Jack was telling the girls about something he had seen the previous summer.
"… must have been every bit as big as a wolf, but he didn't quite look like a wolf, either."
"Hey! Start over, Jack. Sounds as if I missed something!" Ross grabbed the Scotch and water Jack handed him and took a seat in a low chair near the bar.
"Oh, I heard something in Fall Creek this morning when we came through, and it reminded me of what I saw when I was sanding our beach last summer."
Jack Cartwright was one of four men who jointly owned the ten acres that completely surrounded Harp Lake. Ross had bought all the property four years earlier, but found it too much to handle by himself as a vacation spot. He had mentioned it to Jack during a weekend swapping session, and by the following Monday, papers had been drawn up and money changed hands, with two other men from the swapping group taking the remaining half of the load.
As a building contractor and general contractor, Jack volunteered to furnish the required equipment and labor at cost, so four cottages could be erected and the beach renovated from its crude wilderness. The work was done between contracted jobs, and the four families had inaugurated their private resort at the and of the previous summer.
"It was when I was dozing the last load of sand next to the dock. I happened to look up on the cliff back of the cottages. And there was this dog or wolf or whatever. He was pure white, and he looked fairly clean, so I thought he must belong to someone. A dog runs wild in the woods, he's gonna be gray and muddy and streaked and full of burrs and tangles. But this one looked pretty well groomed."
"Anyhow, when I lifted the blade and ran the dozer up the ramp onto the truck bed, I guess the racket spooked him. When I looked again, he was gone."
"And you heard about him in Fall Creek today?" Ross asked.
"Yeah. Rhoda wanted to browse in that damn Trading Post, so I went into the bar next door and had a beer. Heard these two old-time residents talking. Seems that a Mrs. Woodstock… another long-time resident… had been attacked by an animal this spring. She was in her late sixties, lived alone in that little bungalow with the picket fence where we turn off the county road onto our private entrance. She was gardening late… almost dark… and this animal jumps her picket fence, corners her next to her chimney, and starts tearing her clothes off her."
"She dropped her digger, so she was defenseless. The damn thing ripped her clothes off just enough to get at her pussy. He rears up and knocks her over, then puts the meat to her. She was screaming until then, but she shut up when she had to look up into the animal's face. He was slavering and drooling and whining all the time he was screwing her."
"She was torn up pretty bad. And she had to tell the doctor about it."
"And this animal's description matched the one you saw on the cliff above us here?" Ross pursued, frowning slightly.
"It sure did. Made me wonder if maybe we shouldn't install a few more floodlights out there. We have quite a few shadowy areas on really dark nights."
A strange expression came over Rhoda's face, and her hand stole into her crotch to cover her prominent pussy mound, but not before Ross noticed that her bikini was darkened with the moisture of her excitement. She wet her lips sensuously.
"Let's not waste time with small talk," she said hoarsely. "The water must be great out there, to say nothing of the feel of that warm sand. Come on! Let's party on the beach!" She slid off her bar stool and held out a hand to Ross. He grabbed it and let her pull him to his feet.
He was wearing only a light terry robe that reached his knees as he stood. Sitting, the hem barely covered his balls, and Rhoda had been stimulated by the brown curls that peeped from under the fabric.
They charged out of the cottage onto the beach, veering to their left to the dock and boathouse. Rhoda slowed as they neared the water's edge, letting Ross know she was much less interested in the water than in the warm sand.
He stopped and pulled her against him, feeling the warm satin of her belly against him. She pulled the robe off his shoulders and he broke their embrace to get rid of the hampering garment.
Rhoda removed her briefs and halter and they stared at each other for a second.
Ross licked his lips as he studied the exciting female beauty before him. Her nipples were dark rose islands in the coppery sea of her tanned skin; her tits were heaving with the intensity of her desire and there were burning lights in the depths of her brown eyes.
His gaze dropped past her smooth, rounded belly to the glossy tendrils of black hair at her crotch. The dark delta was split asunder with the pinkness of those thickly swollen, outward-flaring lips he remembered with lustful hunger.
With a groan, he seized her and pulled her down onto the fine, white sand. Their bodies pressed together and their mouths met in greedy, wet seekings. The swelling nipples of her tits burned hotly into his chest, and the rock-hard club of his cock poked her brutally in the lower belly.
"Fuck me, Ross!" she begged when their mouths separated. Her ass was rolling desperately in the sand and she was humping herself up at him, trying to capture the head of his cock in those avidly flaring lips nestled in her crotch.
"Soon," he promised. "But I have to smell and taste you, first!" He kissed her belly as he maneuvered himself downward, then he was sniffing at the steamy slickness of her gaping slit. The faint scent she wore did not hide the basic woman-smell of her, and its primeval musk excited him madly.
He licked into the soupy trough of cunt flesh, tasted her juice, and let his tongue slither over the entire surface of her box. She whimpered her excitement; Ross tongued the entrance of her tunnel, fucking her with his tongue, then nibbling at her clit.
"God, Ross! Don't make me come that way!" she pleaded. "I need my strength… I want to come with your… cock inside me!"
Reluctantly, he abandoned his feast. He crawled into the outspread vee of her legs, kneeling carefully in the exact spot he judged would position him properly. He laid his cock in the wet warmth of the flared cuntlips, nosed the tip into the fleshy funnel of her hole, and shoved slowly but firmly into her swat.
The heated walls of her cunt clasped his dick snugly. He could feel the throat of her cunt swallowing his tool. It took him several deep breaths to regain his faltering control. Rhoda's cannibal cunt was tremendously stimulating to enter, even though he had sampled it before and was prepared for it!
Then he was balls-deep in her snatch; he felt the embrace of those greedy outer lips as they suctioned around the sensitive package of his scrotum. His nuts seemed to dance wildly for a second, and then he began to screw her with a spiral drive that gave him the feel of every square centimeter of her vibrant, grasping sheath.
She was juicing like a bitch in heat, and he sensed the tiny rivulets that washed his balls before trickling down to be lost in the sand.
"Oh, that cock!" she moaned. "Keep it up, Ross! Fuck the piss out of me!"
He groaned and bit his lip, continuing his slow, grinding thrusts without let-up. From previous experience, he knew what to expect from her, and when she gasped loudly, he braced himself to fight for control.
Her cunt clamped on his prick like a vise, then relaxed as she gasped loudly. He changed his timing, fucking into her, then holding his cock there as she clamped down in the next spasm, during which he withdrew slightly for the next thrust.
Moaning, she completed her series of convulsions. Only the weight of his body kept Ross in the saddle, for her ass bucked on the sand constantly. When she went slightly limp, he began to screw her in earnest once more.
She squealed weakly, seemed to try to escape by wiggling out from under him, then abruptly changing her tactics to meet his every drive with a tossing of her pelvis and a gulping of her cunt.
The stimulus of her first orgasm was still with her, and it speeded up the second climb considerably. She started to grunt and moan, with little whimpering sounds interspersed between. Then she cried out loudly.
"Ross! Oh, squirt it in me!" Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and sobbed as he shot his load in her insatiable cunt. The first hot jet triggered her claspings again, and the milking action took his last drop from his balls in a painfully voluptuous ecstasy.
When they fell apart finally, sand seemed to be clinging to them everywhere, especially where their juices mingled. Ross guessed that he must have thrown up a bunch of sand with his knee when he withdrew.
"Let's swim in and rinse off this damn sand before it grinds off our play-toys!" he said. He held out a hand for Rhoda to gasp. She got up and looked across the lake as they started for the water.
"Looks like everyone's late over there," she said. "No cars at the McNallys' or the Lafayettes'."
He had come to the lake to drink, but as he looked over the edge of the cliffs he watched the man and woman fucking on the beach. He lay down, the sun warming his white fur.
Instinctively he knew what the man and woman were doing as they writhed and grappled on the beach. His ears perked up and he could hear the woman's voice screaming in ecstasy as she climaxed.
He watched as the couple on the beach got up, dusted the sand from their glistening bodies, then walked hand in hand toward the woods.
He rose, then cautiously trotted down the hill, ears raised, eyes alert. He stopped near the edge of the woods and looked over the stretch of beach sand. He could hear the man and woman laughing and giggling, but the sounds of their voices were diminishing as they moved further into the woods.
Moving at a brisk trot, the white dog hurried across the sand. He stopped abruptly to sniff the sand where the couple had lain. He could smell cunt and semen, sweat and human flesh. Then he hurried to the shoreline and lapped at the cool water.