Stranded Hikers: Wife Watches Anal and 69

The trail pinched to wet stone between spruce and cliff just as the sky split. Carmen stopped first, forty-two and still hard-legged from two decades of weekends like this, rain already blackening the shoulders of her jacket. Trent came up behind her, forty-four, pack riding a broad back, and nodded toward the figure hunched under a leaning cedar.

“She’s not moving like she knows the way.”

Simone looked up when they called. Twenty-four, soaked through a thin hiking shirt, map case limp in one fist, relief breaking across her face so fast it almost hurt to watch. “I lost the spur an hour ago,” she said, voice shaking more from cold than fear. “The markers just stopped.”

Thunder rolled the valley. Carmen glanced at the gray wall of water marching in and decided the way she decided most things on a mountain: fast, and out loud. “Cave a quarter mile back. Dry enough. We go now.”

They ran. The entrance was a black mouth under a granite lip, and inside the air went cool and still, wet mineral and old leaves. Trent shook out the emergency blanket. Carmen set the small lantern on a flat rock. Simone peeled her dripping shell and stood in a tank top gone nearly sheer, chest heaving, water tracking her throat into the hollow between her breasts.

Three bodies, one circle of light, the storm hammering stone so hard that talk had to lean in. Simone’s eyes kept finding Trent—the width of his shoulders when he stripped the wet fleece, the line of his stomach above his belt, the easy strength in his hands as he wrung a bandana. She didn’t hide it. Carmen saw the look and felt something low and hot answer, not jealousy so much as a door she’d left unlocked for years and was only now hearing someone try.

“You’re staring,” Carmen said, not unkind.

Simone flushed, rain still on her lashes. “Sorry. He’s—you’re both—” She swallowed. “I didn’t expect anyone. Especially not anyone who looks like that.”

Trent met his wife’s eyes. Carmen held the look, then let the corner of her mouth lift. She didn’t tell the girl to stop. She shifted closer on the blanket until their knees touched, and the cave seemed to shrink around damp cloth, body heat, and a pulse of want nobody had named yet.

Simone’s laugh came out shaky and brave. “God, your arms,” she said to Trent, openly now, as if the rain had washed the last of her caution down the trail. “I’ve been walking alone all day thinking about nothing but getting off this mountain, and then you two show up and all I can think about is how thick your hands look. How they’d feel. I’m soaked through and I’m still—I’m turned on. Stupid turned on. By him. By this. By you watching me look.”

Carmen’s breath caught. She had watched women notice her husband before, at trailheads and in lodge bars, and she had always liked the private heat of it, the way it made her own want sharper. This was closer. This was a cave and a storm and a young woman saying the thing out loud with her nipples tight under wet cotton and her thighs pressed together on the blanket.

“Say it again,” Carmen said quietly.

Simone’s eyes flicked to her, checking, and found no warning there. “I’m turned on by your husband. By both of you. I want to touch him. I want you to see it.”

Trent’s voice went low. “Carmen.”

“I know.” She reached over and laid her palm on his thigh, feeling the muscle jump. “I want it too. If she wants it, and you want it, I want to watch. I want to help. Nothing happens here that any of us doesn’t ask for. Simone—you’re sure? You’re not just cold and grateful.”

“I’m sure.” Simone’s mouth was already parted. “Please. I want his cock in my mouth. I want you there while I do it.”

“Then take your shirt off,” Carmen said, and the permission landed in the cave like a match.

Simone dragged the tank over her head. Her breasts were small and high, nipples dark and stiff from cold and from the look Trent gave them. Carmen’s own shirt followed, then her sports bra, forty-two and unashamed of the weight of her tits in the lantern light, the soft give of her stomach, the strength still in her arms. Trent shoved his pants down. His cock came up thick and flushed, already wet at the tip, and Simone made a helpless sound at the sight of it.

She dropped to her knees on the blanket between his boots. Carmen stayed beside him, one hand wrapped around the base, stroking slow while Simone leaned in and licked the head, tongue flat, tasting him with a little moan that vibrated against Carmen’s fingers. Trent’s head tipped back against the stone. Simone took him deeper, lips stretching, saliva shining, and Carmen guided her with a hand in her wet hair, not forcing, just showing her the rhythm Trent liked.

“Good,” Carmen murmured. “Just like that. Let me have him too.”

Simone pulled off with a wet sound and held the shaft toward Carmen’s mouth. Carmen bent and sucked him down, fuller than Simone had managed, tasting salt and the girl’s spit, then came up and offered him back. They traded. Simone’s mouth. Carmen’s mouth. Both of them on him at once when Carmen licked up one side of the shaft while Simone worked the head, tongues meeting, sharing him, Carmen’s fist pumping what their mouths couldn’t cover. Trent groaned, hips twitching, one hand on his wife’s shoulder and one in Simone’s hair.

“Fuck,” he said. “Both of you. I can’t—”

“Don’t come yet,” Carmen told him, voice gone rough. She was aching, panties soaked under her hiking pants, watching his cock disappear between Simone’s lips and feeling her own cunt clench with every swallow. “We’re not done. We’re barely started.”

Simone looked up, mouth shining, eyes bright. “Then fuck me. However you want. I want all of it.”

Carmen kissed her, quick and filthy, tasting her husband on the younger woman’s tongue, and the last of the hesitation burned off between them. Pants came down. Boots kicked aside. The cave filled with the sound of breath and the storm and skin finding skin, and the three of them tipped over together into the heat they’d been circling since the rain started.

Trent turned Simone onto her hands and knees on the blanket, her ass lifted, back arched, the lantern throwing gold across the curve of her. Carmen knelt close at her side, one hand between her own thighs, fingers already sliding through slick heat, the other spreading Simone open so she could see everything. Simone’s pussy was swollen and wet, but it was her ass Carmen held apart, the tight little ring clenching under the cool cave air.

“You want him here?” Carmen asked, thumb circling that rim, gentle, asking again because she needed to hear it.

“Yes.” Simone pushed back into the touch. “Anal. I want his cock in my ass. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw him. Please, Trent. Slow at first, then don’t be careful.”

Trent spit into his palm and stroked himself, then pressed the head against her. Carmen watched the muscle resist, watched Simone breathe out and bear down, watched the thick crown pop past the ring with a stretch that made Simone gasp and curse and reach back to hold Carmen’s wrist. Inch by inch he sank in, ass gripping him, shiny with spit, Simone’s thighs trembling. Carmen’s fingers moved faster on her own clit. She had never seen her husband take a woman like this, not this close, not with the girl’s face turned toward her, mouth open, eyes wet with the shock of how full she was.

“God, you’re tight,” Trent said, voice shredded. He seated himself and held there, hands firm on Simone’s hips, giving her time. “Tell me.”

“Move,” Simone begged. “Fuck my ass. I can take it.”

He drew back and drove in, deep, steady, not brutal, a rhythm that made her whole body rock. Each stroke pulled a wet sound from her, a little cry, the slap of his hips against her ass echoing off the cave wall under the rain. Carmen leaned in until her face was inches from where they joined, watching his cock vanish into that tight heat, watching Simone’s pussy drip untouched onto the blanket. She slid two fingers into herself and fucked her hand in time with him, moaning against Simone’s shoulder, kissing the girl’s mouth sideways when Simone turned to find her.

“You look so good taking him,” Carmen said. “My husband in your ass. You love it.”

“I love it,” Simone sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Harder. I want to feel it tomorrow on the trail.”

Trent gave her harder. Deep, even strokes that bottomed out and held, his balls tapping her soaked pussy, his grip leaving pale marks on her hips that faded and returned. Carmen rubbed her clit in tight circles, close already just from the sight, from the smell of sex in the closed air, from Simone’s broken little sounds. She reached under and stroked Simone’s cunt while Trent fucked her ass, two fingers sliding easy through the mess, thumb on her clit, and Simone shook apart with a sharp cry, clenching so hard around Trent’s cock that he had to stop and grit his teeth to keep from coming.

“Not yet,” Carmen said, kissing his mouth over Simone’s back. “Pull out. I want her. I want her on my tongue.”

He withdrew slowly, cock gleaming, Simone’s ass fluttering empty. She collapsed forward, laughing once, wrecked and eager. “Sixty-nine,” she said. “Please. I need to taste you. I need your mouth.”

Carmen lay back on the blanket and pulled Simone up over her, the younger woman facing her feet, knees planted beside Carmen’s head. Carmen on top would have been the other way; she corrected it with a hungry shove, rolling them, settling her weight over Simone’s face and lowering her own mouth to the soaked, swollen pussy waiting under her. Carmen on top, just as she’d pictured it the second the girl had said please. Simone’s tongue found her immediately, eager, licking broad stripes through Carmen’s folds, sucking her clit, moaning into her like she’d been starving for it.

Carmen spread Simone with both thumbs and licked her clean of the mess Trent had worked out of her, then deeper, tongue fucking into that sweet cunt while her nose pressed the clit. Simone tasted bright and salty and young, thighs shaking around Carmen’s ears. They found a rhythm, grinding, eating, Carmen’s heavier breasts swaying against Simone’s stomach, Simone’s hands gripping Carmen’s ass and pulling her down harder onto her mouth. The cave disappeared. There was only heat and tongue and the wet sounds of two women devouring each other while Trent knelt close, stroking his cock slow, watching his wife ride another woman’s face.

Carmen felt it coming in Simone before Simone could warn her—the sudden tightening, the flood of wet, the way her hips jerked up off the blanket. She sealed her mouth over Simone’s pussy and sucked, and Simone came with a strangled scream against Carmen’s cunt, and then she squirted, hard, a hot rush that burst past Carmen’s lips and splashed her chin, her cheeks, her nose, striping her face in pulse after pulse. Carmen didn’t pull away. She drank what she could and let the rest paint her, licking through the spray, groaning as Simone’s tongue went frantic underneath her and dragged her over the edge too. Carmen came grinding down, thighs clamped around Simone’s head, cunt pulsing on that eager mouth, Simone’s squirt still dripping from her jaw onto the younger woman’s stomach.

They broke apart gasping. Carmen’s face shone. Simone stared up at her, dazed and grinning, and licked a drop from Carmen’s chin when Carmen leaned down to kiss her.

“Again,” Trent said, hoarse. “I need to be inside you, Carmen. Now.”

She wanted it so badly her legs shook. She stayed low over Simone, who had rolled onto her back beneath them, pussy still twitching and glossy, squirt smeared across her belly and Carmen’s mouth. Trent knelt between Carmen’s thighs and pushed into her in one long, vigorous stroke, PIV, her cunt so wet he sank to the root. Carmen cried out into Simone’s skin. He fucked her hard from the start, deep and fast, the slap of it loud in the cave, her ass bouncing back to meet him.

And she leaned down, just as the need hit her, mouth open, and with every thrust she licked. When he drove in, she sucked at Simone’s soaked pussy, drinking the fresh leak of arousal and the last of that squirt. When he drew back, his cock slid out shiny with Carmen’s cream and Simone’s juices where they’d rubbed together, and Carmen dropped her mouth to him—licking the shaft, sucking the head on the out-stroke, tasting both of them on him, then letting him plunge back into her while she went down on Simone again. Oral and PIV at once, her tongue never idle, every thrust a chance to suck his cock or swallow Simone’s slick or both when he held halfway out and she could get her lips around him while Simone ground up into her cheek.

“Fuck, look at you,” Trent groaned, hands tight on her hips, pounding her. “Sucking me while I fuck you. Eating her. You’re perfect.”

Simone held Carmen’s hair and watched, wide-eyed, offering her pussy up, fingers spreading herself so Carmen’s tongue had everything. “Come on his cock,” she whispered. “I want to see you squirt too. I want it on my face.”

Carmen was already there. The angle hit deep, Trent’s cock dragging her front wall, Simone’s clit under her tongue, the taste of all three of them thick in her mouth. She came with a broken shout, cunt clamping around him, and a hot gush followed, squirting down his shaft and onto Simone’s chest and throat. Simone laughed, delighted, and pulled Carmen’s face back down so she could keep licking through it. Trent lasted three more brutal thrusts, then pulled out at the last second—Carmen’s mouth was there, waiting, and she sucked him through it, swallowing his come while Simone’s fingers rubbed the rest of Carmen’s orgasm out of her, more wetness spilling, all of them shaking, loud, shameless in the lantern light.

They didn’t stop at one. Trent got hard again with both their mouths on him, another messy double devotion that turned into him fucking Simone’s pussy this time while Carmen licked her clit and his cock together, then back into Carmen, slower, deeper, Carmen on her side with Simone’s thigh over her shoulder so she could keep sucking and licking with every roll of his hips until Simone came again, smaller, shuddering, and Carmen followed, and Trent finally spilled inside his wife with a groan that seemed to empty him.

After, the rain thinned to a tick against the stone, then stopped. They cleaned each other with the bandana and a spare shirt, laughing softly when the cloth wasn’t enough and tongues had to finish the job. No one hurried. Simone kissed Carmen’s mouth, then Trent’s, then Carmen’s again, unhurried and grateful and still a little glassy-eyed. Trent pulled his wife against his chest and reached to include the younger woman, the three of them a warm knot on the blanket while the lantern burned low.

Outside, the light had gone gold. They dressed in damp clothes that no longer mattered, shouldered packs, and stepped out of the cave into a washed world, cedar shining, the trail steaming under a low sun. They walked close. Sometimes Simone’s hand found Carmen’s. Sometimes Carmen watched her husband’s mouth and remembered it open around a groan that had belonged to all of them. No one apologized. No one looked away.

They hiked out of the mountains together as the sun set, glowing, unregretful, already wanting the night to find them another closed dark place.

The storm had only been an excuse; the hunger was the trail they meant to keep.