River Camp Cumslut

The river ran silver under the pines, and Esther, twenty-four, was already wet before Xavier killed the engine. Two hours of empty highway had done it. Every bump had rocked her against the seam of her shorts, and she had spent the last stretch pressing her thighs together, breathing through her mouth, imagining his hands. Xavier, twenty-six, her longtime lover, knew that look. He parked on the packed dirt of their usual spot, a ring of stones and a tent pad screened by trees, and she was out of the truck before he had the keys in his pocket.

Beyond the bank a huge boulder jutted over the water, flat on top, gray and sun-warmed, big enough for both of them. Esther walked to it without unpacking. The air smelled of wet stone and hot pine. She kicked her shoes into the grass, peeled her tank top over her head, unhooked her bra, and shoved her shorts and panties down in one impatient shove. Naked, she climbed the warm rock and lay back, red hair spilling across the stone, freckles bright on her shoulders and the swell of her breasts. Between her thighs her cunt hair was trimmed close along the sides and still fluffy where it grew, a soft copper thatch above her slit. She dragged her fingers through it slowly, tugging the curls, spreading them, letting the sun hit every inch of her.

Xavier stood on the bank with the cooler forgotten at his feet. She watched his cock thicken against his pants as she played, stroking the fluffy red hair, then lower, just brushing the outer lips. She was already slick. The river murmured. A jay called once and went quiet. She kept her eyes on him and kept teasing herself, slow and shameless, until the front of his pants was unmistakably hard.

She spread her thighs wider on the warm stone and let two fingers slip between her folds. The sound was wet and small in the open air. She circled her clit, dipped in, came back out shining, and stared straight at him.

“Come here,” she said. “Come lick my cunt.”

He crossed the bank in three strides and climbed onto the boulder. She opened for him, knees bent, feet planted, the fluffy red hair damp where her fingers had been. Xavier knelt between her legs and put his mouth on her without teasing. His tongue flattened over her clit, then pushed lower, licking into her, tasting how worked up the drive had left her. Esther’s hand found his hair. She held him there and rolled her hips against his face, the sun hot on her stomach, the rock rough under her shoulders.

“Fingers,” she said. “Inside. You know where.”

He slid two fingers into her, slow at first, then deeper, curling them until he found the swollen spot high on her front wall. She made a broken sound and tightened around him. He stroked it in steady presses while his tongue worked her clit, licking and sucking, the wet sounds loud now. Her thighs trembled against his ears. She was dripping down his knuckles onto the stone.

“God, yes. Right there. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He fucked her with those two fingers and ate her like he meant to make her come before she was ready, and she was close, shaking, when she suddenly yanked him upward by the shirt. He came up flushed, mouth wet, fingers slipping free. She sat up, grabbed his belt with both hands, and ripped the leather free of the loops in one hard pull. The buckle clattered on the rock. She was breathing hard, eyes bright, cunt still open and shining between her spread thighs.

“Use it,” she said. “Gently. On my thighs. On my tits. I want to feel it while I suck you.”

He took the belt. She lay back again and he brought the doubled leather down in a light slap across the soft inside of one thigh, then the other, pink blooming under her freckles, nothing like a real strike, just enough sting to make her gasp and smile. He did it again, a little higher, then across the undersides of her breasts, gentle taps that made them jump and her nipples tighten. She moaned and reached for his pants, yanking them open, shoving them down his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, already wet at the tip.

Esther sat up, took him in her hand, and guided him into her mouth. She sucked him deep, cheeks hollowing, one hand braced on his thigh while the other dropped between her own legs. She fingered herself while she blew him, two fingers sliding into her soaked cunt, thumb on her clit, matching the rhythm of her mouth. Xavier kept the belt moving in soft strokes over her tits and the tops of her thighs, the leather warm from the sun, each tap making her moan around his shaft. She looked up at him with her lips stretched around him, red hair stuck to her cheek, and the sight of her naked on that boulder, playing with herself while she sucked him, nearly undid him.

She pulled off just long enough to gasp, then took him deeper, throat working, fingers pumping faster in her cunt. The belt kissed the side of her breast again, gentle, and that was enough. She came hard around her own fingers, crying out with her mouth still full of him, the sound muffled and desperate, her hips bucking against her hand, slick running down her wrist onto the stone. She didn’t stop sucking. She rode the orgasm out on his cock, trembling, sucking him through it until the shakes eased and she pulled off, lips shiny, chest heaving.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Hard. Right here. And when you’re close, pull out and shoot it on my face. I want it all over me.”

He dropped the belt, shoved his pants the rest of the way down, and pushed her back onto the boulder. She spread for him, grabbing his hips, pulling him in. He sank into her in one long thrust, and she was so wet he went to the root, her cunt gripping him, still fluttering from the orgasm she’d just had. Esther’s head tipped back. Her red hair fanned on the gray stone. He pulled almost out and drove back in, harder, the way she’d asked, and she met him, heels digging into the rock, tits bouncing with every stroke.

“Yes. Like that. Fuck me. Don’t be nice about it.”

He braced one hand beside her head and fucked her in deep, grinding thrusts, the wet slap of their bodies carrying over the water. Her fluffy cunt hair was matted dark now, brushing his stomach every time he bottomed out. She reached down and rubbed her clit while he pounded her, fingers slipping in her own wetness, and the combination had her climbing again fast. Xavier bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth, then the other, biting just enough to make her yelp and clench around him. She locked her ankles behind his back and pulled him deeper.

“Harder. I can take it. I want to feel you tomorrow.”

He gave it to her. The boulder was warm under her back and unyielding, and every thrust jolted through her, his cock hitting that same spot his fingers had found, over and over. She was loud now, not caring if the river carried it, moaning his name, telling him how good his cock felt, how full she was, how she wanted his cum on her face when he finished. He fucked her through it, sweat on his chest, hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks she would want later. Her second orgasm hit sharper than the first. She came with a cry that cracked, cunt clamping down on him in hard pulses, thighs shaking, nails digging into his arms. He kept thrusting through it, riding her climax, feeling her soak him, until she was gasping and pushing at his stomach.

“Now. On my face. Give it to me.”

He pulled out, the sudden emptiness making her whimper, and moved up over her. Esther lay back, mouth open, eyes on him, one hand still between her legs, fingers lazily stroking her oversensitive clit. He stroked his cock twice, wet from her, and came with a rough groan. Thick ropes of cum striped her flushed face, across her cheek, her open mouth, the bridge of her nose, another pulse landing on her tongue and her chin. She moaned like it was exactly what she had been waiting for all morning, licking what she could reach, smiling under the mess, sun hot on her skin and his cum cooling on her freckles. He braced himself over her, breathing hard, and she reached up and milked the last of it onto her lower lip, then sucked her fingers clean while she looked at him.

They stayed like that a moment, the river moving below them, her thighs still spread, his cum shining on her face, both of them wrecked and grinning. She wiped a streak toward her mouth with one finger and laughed, low and satisfied, already thinking about the drive back even as the aftershocks twitched through her.

The next afternoon the truck hummed along the two-lane toward home, windows cracked, pine giving way to open fields. Esther, still sore in the best way, shifted in the passenger seat and hooked her thumbs in her panties. She pulled them down to her knees, then past them, and kicked them onto the floorboard. Xavier glanced over, cock already thickening in his pants at the sight of her bare cunt, the fluffy red hair a little wilder than yesterday, her folds pink and swollen from the boulder.

“Keep your eyes on the road when you can,” she said, and leaned across the console.

She opened his pants, freed his cock, and took him into her mouth while her free hand slid between her own thighs. She fingered her still-tender cunt in slow circles, then deeper, moaning around him as the soreness edged into pleasure. He kept one hand on the wheel and the other in her hair, hips lifting just enough to meet her mouth. She sucked him steadily, wet and eager, fingers working her clit, the cab filling with the sounds of it. She was close again, impossibly, the memory of his cum on her face and his cock in her now pushing her over. She came with a muffled cry that vibrated around his shaft, soaking the seat under her, thighs shaking, and the feel of it dragged him with her. Xavier groaned loud, the truck drifting a little before he corrected, and came hard into her mouth, filling it in hot pulses while she swallowed and kept sucking, both of them loud in the small cab, her cries buzzing against him until he was spent and she was trembling, mouth full, fingers still buried in her cunt, the road humming under them and the next riverside trip already taking shape between one breath and the next.