Honey Dare

Claire leans back from the table after she's finished her plate of pot-stew. "I needed that." One hunger satisfied.

"Now I need to pay-in-kind for your hospitality." She continues with an offering of a toast, "To shared memories, shared bodies, and especially our shared enjoyments today."

Four naked men raise a beer bottle. Owen replies, "I hope we give you the pleasure and memories you have already given us." The others agree, Claire's expression says she likes that thought. "Aww thanks, you've all been wonderful." And after a pause "That stew was unforgettable." They all laugh.

The soft light from the oil lamps creates a special ambience in the cabin. Suitable lighting for the performances they are about to unfold together.

"Now will you make me a stage for our next performances? Pretty please."

Frank asks "Aren't we going to wash-up first?", with a tease. Tom replies "I never wash-up when it would keep a naked lady waiting." She adds "That's a good rule for a happy life. I hope you all always follow it."

Claire asked for a 'stage' the way she might direct traffic; pleasantly, without ambiguity, with the clear purpose of getting the fucking started.

Standing now, near the stove, the heat is warming. She places two hands on her lower stomach, strokes the hairless skin of her mound with feather light touches. Looks down at herself, then to no one, everyone and herself: "Ready to give the lads a ride?"

The lads have moved as a team but they will take their coming turns in sequence.

The settle-backs are lowered into place with the practised ease of people who know the mechanisms. Tom and Trevor pushed the three units together until they form a single broad platform. Frank shakes out sleeping bags and smooths them flat; a soft and slightly padded surface.

Claire stands, mostly one footed and watches. Nude and entirely comfortable in her waiting, displaying, exhibitionist-state. The stove's warmth presses not only against her back but her arse as well. "This is warm on my bum, like after a spanking."

Owen is already close but he leans closer. Places a hand on the curve of her warm skin "Mmm" she purrs and he asks softly "Is that something you'd like if there is a next time?".

"Not with four athletic men. I couldn't take that much." She pushes her rear against his hand. Will you take the hint and allow fingers to seek out my holes?

He doesn't realise the hip-shift is an invite. C'est la vie

The golden light from the oil lamps on shelves and pegs accentuate the curve of her breasts. Pools of light casting multiple shadows and removing the harshness from all of them.

Owen leans in to take a nipple in his mouth. Oh OK, a consolation prize at least. "You promised me more than that." she says.

"I'll deliver. Take this as a down payment." The interior of the cabin, bathed in amber light is sealed from the dark outside.

"So you'd take one athletic man's spank?", he winks. "Or give one." she counters. "That's OK too." he says.

Four young men arranging a bed on my instruction. When Richard sees the videos he'll be beside himself. One of them flirting for kinks, Rich will be all over me when I let him at me.

Claire suggests "A towel will be a good idea, I'm not a squirter but you boys are going to be leaking out before I've had you all, and worse if some of you manage twice or better."

Their erections return as the industry of bed-making concludes and the reality of what is about to happen reasserts itself in their minds. Straight to their bodies. The sight of them growing affects her too.

"Boys, Come here." She curls a finger at each of them.

Then crouching carefully, keeping weight off her ankle, she retrieves the porn magazines from where they have slid under the table.

"Missionary is simple, deep, good eye contact, which I would very much like since I'm giving you your first times. I'm not doing doggy or wild acrobatics today but maybe there's positions in these you want?"

Frank comments, "I think cowgirl will be tough on your foot too."

"Ever the pragmatist." But she does appreciate his consideration. "You're right. Shame. I'd get the most control, the most g-action but today is about you more than me." There is unspoken appreciation from them.

"I suggested reverse order of blow-jobs before supper so you're up first Owen. OK?"

"What ever you suggest fair lady."

Owen is 1st

Claire shimmies her rear-end backwards onto the settles. Tom offers the towel. She and he arrange it under her then Tom plumps several cushions behind her shoulders.

She settles knees spread, foot carefully placed. "Come to me Owen, come and give me your innocence."

Owen kneels between her thighs. "Trevor are you doing the video?"

"Sure or Frank?" He indicates the question with inflection.

Frank suggests "I'll start and pass to you when she is mine for a turn?" Trevor indicates a yes. She is mine. How lovely. She echos his phrase internally to feel how it fits her mood. Externally only the smiles show.

"Frank use my phone to video." Claire directs. He takes it from the table and starts the recording. The clip starts with her lips, then Owen's hard-on.

As they move closer getting both her wetness and his stiffness in the same shot becomes easy.

Claire takes Owens hand, makes eye contact.

The others fade from Owen's awareness. It's just his cock and this whole, mature, fit and willing guide to the ways of men and women within his momentary world now.

"It's straightforward" she whispers "I'll keep my good knee up, the other as best I can, I'll guide you in, you press forward slowly, if there's resistance pull back, you'll spread my wetness.

"Slowly is good. Let us both feel you enter. I want to savour you. I'll steer your depth and speed to start, tell you what I want as we go if I need too. I will not be silent through the experience and you can choose to be or not." She smiles. "Questions?"

He looks from his goal to her eyes and back. Then leans forward and kisses her at the apex of her lower lips. A nice homage to my girlie girl bits. Then his gaze travels up her body until he meets her eyes again. "We will be alright." he says.

"Thank you.", and her eyes indicate by their flick to her mons that she likes the kiss.

Yes. That's exactly it. When it is right it just works. He is the only one of them capable of making that judgement.

"Come to me now. I'm settled and ready."

He moves as she adjusts her posture on her elbows. The sleeping bag is warm under her. The positioning opens her further and she feels no want to moderate the fact. She's ready, her state is eloquent in its declaration. She had been since before supper and all five of them knew it.

The towel protecting against a damp patch frames a contrast in colour and texture that accentuates her waiting, vacant cunt.

I'm well past the point of modesty. Let them see. I want them to see. Frank has me open on film.

Owen tips forward from his knees and pauses. Claire reaches out for his cock and in a fluid matched movement brings his bell-end to be firmly within her lips without full penetration yet. He can feel her heat. She can feel his firmness. "You're special," he whispers. "So are you", she says "now give yourself to take me."

He enters her till they feels the edge of resistance. "You've not got fully wet yet, pull back, sink in, you'll go in fully and we will..."

The others recede further, simple due to the feelings flowing outward from below for both of them.

He rests buried deep. "... both savour your first time inside a woman."

He is sunk in her depths. He makes no immediate move. Not claiming. Not rushing. Just present. Searching this experience, fitting words to emotions as the remembering of it.

He is anchoring me. I hadn't expected to want that.

Claire briefly shifts her attention beyond him to look around at their audience. She sees the other three are watching with concentration that defies description.

Owen's Virginity Goes To Claire

Frank moves to the end of the makeshift bed. Filming between their thighs. He captures the first stirrings as Owen starts to plough her.

Owen holds his weight on knees and elbows. Frank and the camera phone watch his tightening balls and shiny wet cock within her groove.

Owen studies Claire's shifting expressions. The predominant one is serenity. She reaches up, strokes his cheek, takes his head to her shoulder. Whispers "Build your rhythm, don't worry about me, focus on your need. I'll get there quicker if I add my fingers to the mix."

She holds the image of him in her mind's eye; lean and dark-haired, the curls of his pubic hair, the tight muscle of his abdomen above the erection that stood with the uncomplicated eagerness of the young.

Now it's beginning to ream in and out through her gates with purpose.

He's still slow and deliberate, long deep, even strokes. Speed is building though. His thrusts are solid, workman like. Stretching, rhythmic.

They find the pace that suits them both without negotiating it aloud.

This is the one. This is the one I'll think about afterwards. The others can be delicious and fun and I'll remember them too but this is the one.

Claire's hand dips to her folds, he shifts slightly to give her room to rub her clitoral hood.

He'll be good. That was considerate, instinctive. He's such a strong insistent impulse. I love the athleticism.

She shifts her hips, guides him about her need for angle. He is warm and blunt and she can feel his arms start trembling very slightly.

The stretching fullness of him is a joy to her. The involuntary breathes she's having to take as reaction to the physical presence of a young man between her thighs. He is inside her body and her senses, she's as aware of her pleasure building as she is of his breathing by her ear getting more ragged. "God I'm close." He croak's "Then flood me."

I'm close too! That's simply good and uncomplicated and exactly what I need.

Her fingers now move to her clitoris' tip between their bodies. He shifts to make extra space for her to accelerate herself.

She had been honest with herself about this at supper; they are young and excited and she has wants too. This is different though, she wants to come with him.

The balance of pleasure is going to require active management on her part and she is managing it.

"Eyes open Owen. Please share your soul as you cum."

"I was trying to shut out too much stimulation. If I look at you you will take me over the edge."

He was trying to take his time! There is a kind of control here that the others haven't shown yet and it is not age-related, it is character. But he's losing himself within me now, the approach to cuming is overcoming his composure.

He opens them. Big pupils in the warm oil-lamp light, now wide open, she relishes the brightness in them that is approaching a moment so intense for them both. His vision isn't quite focused.

"Stay in when you come. All the way. Let me feel it."

He manages a "Yes."

Then it happens.

Sudden and total.

He drives in, the closest he gets to totally untamed, holds himself there, his whole frame vibrates with tense strain then snaps release.

Convulsing the repeat groans aren't by choice. Like the buttocks tensing they are animal and involuntary, instinct. She more than feels the pulses of him with a deep internal warmth that is its own distinct pleasure.

Several contractions. Then he collapses and is still.

She lets him stay inside her while he recovers. Her fingers maintain her need to work, now with difficulty but without pause.

He is softening slowly but still filling her and the combination of his recent spend and her own continued attention to herself is bringing her close.

Good. Stay. Don't move. "Stay", she pants "I'm very... I'm so...close now." With that her climax overwhelms her. Its small and almost maternal. He feels her stressed muscles spasm go rigid in legs, then stomach, she pulls him into to her, then she fades to relaxation.

After some moments he moves back on his knees, his mouth travelling down her body till he captures her post orgasmic and sensitive clit. Three sweeps of his tongue. She enjoys his fleeting nuzzle then she encourages him up.

"I'll SO So happily have more of that tongue but there are other eager needs around you." She says. "Then I'll owe you my tongue any time your request," he replies, so only she hears. oh I hope that's a truth to come.

Owen moves to her side with a "Thank you." that is more than it seems.

"And I thank you, especially for your tongue your seed and your first time. That is a gift that's unique."

I need to come back to assessing my wants differently after this one. File it and do not examine it yet. You are fifty three and you are on a solo hiking weekend. This has been a wonderful and temporary piece of serendipity. He is eighteen, he will go home and this will become a story he tells a woman he loves in ten years. Exactly how this is supposed to go but Do I want more youngster in my diet now?

Then to the others: "Look I'm empty! That needs a remedy. That's your cue, your up now Frank. Have you everything recorded?"

"Yes."

"Pass the phone to Tom or Trevor."

Tom takes the phone. She looks at his cock waiting for it's turn. Soon. I never though I was a size queen but I am looking forward to that one and I'm glad he's last. I'm going to have to stretch.

Owen gets up. She watches him move. Watches the muscles in his buttocks, catches a glimpse between his legs of his limp but still somewhat grown dick.

He fetches the tin bath.

Her next promise approaches. Behind him Claire watches her last place the bath on the wood-burner then pours most of a Jerry-can into it.

When he's done he settles back beside her right shoulder. She offers her right hand, he takes it. Their fingers interlace. More lover than one time quickie?

Frank Goes Next (And Claire Cums Next)

Frank comes forward.

He was already stripped, as they all are. He is 'ripped' too and hard; he has been stroking himself while filming Owen's use.

She finds it telling. A comfort with his own body at least one of the others needs to be working towards?

His circumcised knob is the centre of her attention now. She had noted it's veins in the afternoon; a tracery of purple over average girth. What she had not anticipated then was his deliberateness now.

He had fucked her face in the afternoon with a focused singularity of purpose. That same quality guides his getting into position now.

He is direct. Did they say he's the eldest? Claire thinks as he mounts the settles and comes to rest above her with his cock immediately between the swell of her engorged outer labia. No encouragement needed!

He settles. She doesn't guide him in. He is already lined up. Entry is without any of the tentative slowness of Owen when she was not 'greased' by a load already delivered.

No fighting of his own urgency either. Just a steady purposeful depth, and then he really looks at her. See the years and that she has vitality that refutes them. In fact the depth of look are mutual.

Oh. He's been thinking what it's like to be face to face and PIV close. Literally. This posture is somehow familiar to him. He knows there is another person in the room with him that is me.

"Ohh now that," a pause "is nice. Very nice," a longer pause "and what do you want?" he asks.

The question surprises her. No one had asked not even Owen.

"You deep in me."

"You have that. What else?"

"Time for my own pleasure would be very nice. If you'd be slow? Long plungings to my depths. Fuck me deliberately. Vary your depth, watch my face for what I like, listen to my groans."

He does them all.

She keeps her fingers on herself and lets attention split between her own stimulation and the very particular attention Frank pays her. He reads her face with the unself-consciousness of someone unaware he is doing it, adjusting fractionally each time her expression shifted, each time her hips lift.

Natural aptitude? The Christmas party story was Trevor's. Frank's comfort comes from elsewhere.

She doesn't ask. Not now. If mid intercourse is time for a discussion it's a discussion of a different nature. Later, maybe.

But what a delight are his long unhurried strokes that she had specified and he is delivering.

Her fingers focus upon her clitoris again, and Owen's hand is warm on her arm, and the cabin is warm and amber-lit and smells of pine (and sex) and the stew they had made together. She thinks of nothing in particular while her body gathers everything from Frank's pace and depth being perfect for her need.

He lasts through the steady rhythm she needs to climb her peak. Her fingers do the rest. She cums quietly, without warning.

A sudden, simple, complete thing. Her free hand finding his side, pulling him in and momentarily slowing him.

Her body arching for several of his thrust, no sound except a caught breath at first then "OooAww yes fuck my body, stretch what I've let you into."

He can see and feel and he enjoys her lose then regain composure across the few minutes it takes her. Consummation.

As she comes down from her peak her wet hand finds Owen's and simply holds it, loosely, as her quiet "MMMmmmmn" trails from her. A rock to anchor me still.

Then Frank movements stumble as he cums without announcing it. No noise, no show.He waited, then claimed his own ending.

A tightening, a set of long deliberate strokes, held breaths released in hisses, foreheads pressed together, air shared in captured desperate gulps, and then a deep interior warmth pouring into her.

Oh there he is. That is beautifully constrained. He is doing this fully committed. He is doing this as though there is a point to it beyond his ending.

He stays still through each contraction and then lays his weight very briefly on her before lifting himself clear.

That finishing was controlled, he watched himself, studied his own ending. The same attention she had watched him pay to everything else all afternoon and evening; nothing wasted, nothing performative, every action chosen.

Oh, left me so quick. Too soon.

She's aware of the additional slick warmth of the accumulation inside her and with his exit it's initial 'gush' of outflow too.

Deliciously sloppy. Owen and Frank have blessed and anointed me. I am warm and full and I need Trevor before Tom; and I want to come with Owen again. But I'm close again from Frank and he's left me.

"Frank."

"Yes."

"Fingers. Please."

He understands without elaboration. He reaches for her. His hand adds to hers while she closes her eyes and receives stimulation. His fingers are dexterous and attentive and he works with her, guided by her expressions and pace the same way he had worked everything else; watching and adjusting.

She cums again in minutes. This time she can't contain her hands scrunching the bedding in fists. Her wet fingers scrunch the bedding too, cruising the release with just Frank's massage on her g-spot. Her toes curl. She choruses' an escalating series of "Yes, YYES, YYYEESS." then collapses, stilling his hand with hers over his.
"Oh Thank you." she breaths when her being has steadied enough. "Three for me, two to the boys". Tom adds "or are we six three ahead today?"

While Tom is querying the scores Frank moves up her body, kisses her forehead as the tail-end of her orgasm's after-shocks finally ebbs into full calmness.

The unexpectedness of the shared intimacy of his kiss bestowed makes her soulful for a moment. She see Owen smile too. Observant boy. He noticed that kiss' effect. He's said nothing. He just anchored me again with it for a moment. I need to be careful with these two or this cabin will be more than a one-night stand.

Neither of you should be doing these things. That is the kind of thing that is not just sex. That is something else. Frank: I missed those signs earlier, of intuition when I blew you this afternoon. Now we've Owen and Frank with merit. And maybe Tom too if I'm being a confirmed size queen. Time will tell.

She'd gripped Owen's hand, her fingernails biting into him as she came on Frank's fingers. Now she gives his hand an acknowledging squeeze and says softly to Frank and Owen. "You two have both been a surprise. Thank you genuinely."

Reflections

The five of them are still in the moment. The cabin is a capsule that holds them. They let a long minute pass.

During the stillness Claire looks around at all the young men. Singularly focused on her, but in different ways. Trevor has a look of 'I'm next'. He has one of the magazines open. She can't read Tom's body language or perhaps she is just distracted by the promise within the size of him.

Owen is snuggled to sit a little above her hip, very near, involved in more than the rutting. Present. A comfort. He is still wet and shinning with our mixed juices even though now quiet soft.

Frank and Trevor have each brought a particular quality of attention to the filming. It is not detachment, it is something more like active witnessing. Claire sees it means something different for each of them. They were the video 'jockeys' this afternoon, she notes.

In addition Frank now sits relaxed, a satisfied grin on his face. He's the lustful sex equivalent of punch drunk. "Say something Frank." she prompts him. "If I have to then it will be: Wow, Thank you, Wow again and can I get your name as a tattoo? Is that OK?"

"Oh! My turn to say Wow. Well of course I can't stop you but I'd be honoured. I'll even give you how I sign Claire if you want?", he nods.

Owen held my hand, registered when Frank kissed my forehead. He watched everything and wanted me to know he was watching. There is a conversation happening above Trevor and Tom's heads, least we three are the only ones having it.

Trevor Is Third

"Trevor."

"Yes."

"Do you want me too?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen something in that magazine?"

"Yes."

He shows her a woman on her side. Legs "h" shaped, the man kneeling over her extended leg. "Ever tried this?"

My turn to say "yes" "Yes", a pause (Owen smiles, a shared joke) "and its comfortable with a hurt foot. Do you want me on left side or right?"

"Which is better"

"Makes no odds to me." she says as he starts moving towards her and passes the phone back to Frank. "Frank come over here, I'll turn onto my left side."

Making access easy her right hip flexes 100°. Knee high towards the curve of her breast's underside. "Trevor you've got a clear run to thrust into me and Frank has a great video angle." and I can still hold Owen's hand. Her left hand goes to herself, her right reaches behind her, opening her shoulder so her right nipple is pointed skyward.

Trevor reaches out and traces one finger along the line of her lips. She contracts pelvic muscles and can feel a refresh inundation run out and down her left thigh.

"I see the other two's cum is spilling out of you."

"Yes, I can feel it too. It's warm."

"Your slippery."

"I'm very ready. Do me the honour of filling me as well." The fingers of her left hand attempt to hold her petals splayed.

He moves into position over her. She senses his hungry but unsure.

"It's called sloppy seconds or cream pie. You'll enter me very easily, better than if we were using lube."

Owen moves a pillow to prop her head more. She completes efforts to shift her still sore ankle gently.

Trevor settles his weight with care, aware of the ankle, positioning himself so no pressure went where it would hurt. uem>That's consideration, silent and practical. she records.

Then Trevor enters her slowly.

They both do the dance of adjustments till she is full from his root to her cervix.

Trevor's hands, flat on the soft surface adjust to either side of her, taking the weight of his torso. His eyes are open for now, to study her? She feels the size of him in his movements.

His entry into her is without resistance or pause. Their adjustments are aided by her being open "See? I'm slick with the other's cum, I said it's our lubrication."

As he starts to move she hears her self, "Oh Yes, please. Fast would be good."

He exhales once, a long and entirely genuine sound, and then he is still, inside her, and they looked at each other in the lamplight. "Fast?" She asks again. He nods. "And hard." He nods again. He IS a first timer. she reminds herself.

"If you want?" She adds in case her request is too much.

The following strokes are careful to the point of tentativeness. She encourages as much as she can with her hips. "I can move less like this, you have to do more of the controlling. I won't break. You can take me how you want. OK?"

His reply is silent. He sits up to be more upright, places his hands on her hip and the raised knee of her upper leg. Then the action from his pelvis springs into life.

First he measures the depth that is withdrawal without disconnection. Second he checks angles that slide easily. Left, right, higher, lower, tilt down.

Now he builds pace. Builds confidence.

After two minutes his eyes close and his hips become aggressive in their plundering.

"Ugh" she manages on most impacts of his pelvis to hers.

Now I'm being fucked. He's 'doing me', this isn't mutual, I'm a warm wet hole to use. A fuck toy. His pace built but less in speed more in using full depth with power.

She works her own need steadily with her hand and feels the mix of sensations: his fullness moving inside her 'selfishly', the sharp specific pleasure at her fingertips, his domination of her body. They compound and are separately felt, each distinct.

Owen's hand stays in her right. Warm and steady. His other hand covers her tit. He trails soft touches following the areola's edge. You owe me some pinches.

He squeezes her whole mound. She presses up into his hand, as he is firming his grip. Trevor's each thrust further jolts her whole frame. Owen reads her encouragement, he squeezes the whole, pulls, flesh slides through fingers, her mound distends. She turns her head to look at him, then down to her stretched breast. The look says "Go on then."

When the nipple is all that is left between fingers he increases pressure. She shuts then opens her eyes, looks from grip to Owen's face. Words aren't needed. Owen addresses Trevor "She is hot, she is needy. Pound her hard."

Trevor's speed and force increase a lot.

Trevor is all sensation. No calculation. Just a young body doing what young bodies do and it's completely fine, better than fine, there is a purity to this. He'll climax soon.

On cue Trevor makes sounds she had not heard from him before but knows their meaning. A clenched, involuntary strangled note that signals the beginning of the end.

She is close but not close enough to 'no return' while he is inside her and has passed that point, just.

Wordlessly but not silently, and with forceful hips that would suit any rising trot his release comes in rolling waves, a spend with each thrust. She lets the emotion of 'Taken' move through her without performance or resistance.

Repeatedly forces that jogs her whole torso hold his hips pressing forward, spurting, then retreating. Then the recycling, evolutionary instinct repeated. That was a young virgin and MILF straight from nature in a format straight from that magazine's page. I liked that too.

Her back arched when he started spurting, held till he wasn't moving any more. Her fingers slowed, then stop as he withdraws.

Trevor's withdrawal is careful. As if realising he was still on earth in a cabin with others. He looks at his own body with an expression of astonishment. Seemingly checking for evidence of everything still working as it should.

Then he sits back on his heels and regains awareness of the room again.

"Bloody hell." His inane grin tells the internal story.

"Good?" she agreed as well as questioned. "I didn't think it was possible to improve on the blow-job but now I know that fuck wins out."