Slowly, Slowly

My husband, Paul, and I both like the outdoor life. We make it a habit to go away on long weekends, camping, hiking, and fishing. (I should point out that I hike, he fishes.) With the public holiday on the coming Monday and a forecast for fine hot days we naturally took off right after work on Friday, heading for a fishing camp up near some lakes within a reasonable drive.

We arrived at the camping grounds in good time and quickly pitched our tent. I cooked us something to eat and then we went for a bit of a hike, just winding down from the weekly stress. While we were wandering around Paul stopped off at the offices and arranged for the use of a boat for the next day.

We enjoyed a peaceful night. The only problem I had was that Paul woke up at the ungodly hour of five, wanting to get out on the lake for some early morning fishing. Apparently fish wake up early and go looking for breakfast at the crack of dawn. That was news to me and was probably news to the fish, as well.

Still, I got up and cooked Paul some breakfast. Can't really send the poor sod of hungry and there was no way known that I was going to let him try to cook something. Catastrophe is defined as my husband cooking. Not that I bothered getting dressed at that point. I just tossed on a robe and belted it up. Dressing could wait until after I'd had a shower. This camp had some good amenities and a decent supply of hot water.

By six we'd both had breakfast and tidied up and Paul was off to get his boat and, hopefully, some fish. I looked at the camp bed, seriously thinking of putting it to use for a couple of hours. I finally decided that an early shower would be better for me. I could get in before the crowd, assuming there would be a crowd, and have all the hot water I wanted. The late comers could shiver.

I stuffed my clothes and a towel into my bag and wandered over to the amenities block. It was way too early in the morning to be up and about and from the look of things no-one but Paul and I had been dumb enough to get out of our comfortable beds. There was not a soul to be seen.

It turned out there was a soul to be seen. I just failed to see him and walked straight into him. It was a bit like walking into a brick wall, although I suspect the brick wall wouldn't have been so hard. I'd just turned into the amenities block as he was stepping out. I hit him and bounced and would probably have fallen if he hadn't been swift enough to catch me and help me keep my balance.

He was dark haired with brown eyes and was average looking. Average height, average weight, average clothes, everything average, but for all of that he looked incredibly fit. He had the fitness of a gymnast, not that of a weight lifter, and I have to admit that on him it looked good.

I was naturally standing there apologizing and he was doing the same thing. The difference between our apologies was that I was being sincere and he seemed to regard the whole thing as a big joke. He was wearing this big shit-eating grin, his eyes running up and down me as he spoke, apparently trying to see my figure through the robe. A bit of a perv, I was thinking.

"I think this might belong to you," he said, holding up a bit of material.

I looked at it rather blankly, thinking, "Huh?" Then I recognized my belt. The one that I was supposed to be wearing. I looked down and my brain just froze up, not believing what I saw. My robe was gaping open and I was showing him everything I had. No wonder he'd been smiling and looking me over so much.

He was trying to look apologetic but he didn't deceive me for one instant. There was no way my belt just came undone and fell off. He had to have pulled it undone and taken it off, doing it while I was recovering from the collision.

When I just stood there without moving to take my belt he just chuckled softly and laid it across my arm. In the same movement he reached up and brushed the robe off my shoulders whereupon it promptly slithered down my arms, leaving me effectively naked. I didn't even have any undies on, them being in my bag with the rest of my clothes.

I opened my mouth to say something, probably to swear or start a rant, but he put a finger on my lips and shook his head. I was so surprised that I stayed silent. The finger on my lip traced downwards, just barely glided over my breast and moved on down. If his touch had been any lighter he wouldn't have been touching me at all but my breast sensed it and my nipples responded, for god's sake.

I was still in shock when his hand slipped over my mons and then his other hand was there, both of them going around me and cupping my bottom. His grip tightened and he pulled me flush up against him. I was immediately able to ascertain that while he'd been touching my lip he'd also been undoing his trousers. The proof of that was pressing hard against me. Very hard, and quite hot, too.

He pressed harder against me and I found my back was to the wall. His hands lifted, raising me, and I could feel his erection dragging against my tummy as I slowly rose. Then it was brushing against my mons and moving between my legs.

I just didn't believe this was happening. The first time I'd ever met the man and his cock was already pressing against me. He started lowering me again and now I could feel his erection pressing up against me, demanding an entry and finding one. It was purely self-defence when I lifted my legs and wrapped them around him.

I must have totally gone into shock as I just stared at him while he looked back at me with a gentle smile. He kept lowering me and his cock was sinking deeper and deeper into me. Then I was well and truly shafted and he seemed to relax a little.

Two things crossed my mind at that moment. The first was hellaciously obvious. I was being fucked by a stranger and I didn't know how this had come about. The second thing that came to mind was the fact that I was just inside the door to the public amenities building and someone might come and catch me like this. That just didn't bear thinking about.

"Ah, I'm married you know," I told him, waving my rings at him.

"That's good. You'll know how to handle this, won't you?"

Was he kidding? I suspected not.

"St-stop," I managed to mumble. "Someone may come."

On second thoughts I should have just stuck with the stop. The rest seemed to give him an excuse to keep going.

"True," he said. "They might. We'd better just hurry this along."

At the time that almost seemed to make sense, as though he was looking out for me by hurrying up. Practically, it gave him a reason to start humping away as though his life depended on it. His cock started thumping away inside me, wreaking carnage on my nervous system. No. That's not right. Is there a word that's the opposite of carnage? My nerves weren't dying wholesale but springing to life, screaming out that they were alive and well and having fun.

Pinned against the wall the way I was there was nothing I could do but cling to him, riding him as he took his pleasure, lifting me up with his passions and igniting mine at the same time.

I was just going ah, ah, ah, as he drove into me relentlessly, forcing the pace and making my body both accept and rejoice in his attentions.

Hurry this along, he'd said. Not so that I could notice. He might have been drilling in hard and fast but he was certainly in no hurry to bring things to a conclusion. He just kept on going, not that I was complaining. Maybe later I'd complain about the way he'd abused my poor body but at the time of the abuse? Oh, no. I was far too wild with excitement to think of complaining.

He eventually made this gasping sound and tried to redouble his efforts. A little bit of that went a long way and I was shattered by a climax overwhelming me, feeling him spraying his seed inside me.

He pulled out and I was left propped up against the wall, not knowing what to say. He didn't have that problem.

"An interesting way to start the day," he said, leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and went on his way, whistling cheerfully.

I scraped myself together and wobbled my way into the women's showers, quite prepared to steal all the hot water. Screw the second comers.

I didn't tell Paul about what had happened. I had no intention of telling anyone. Well, you wouldn't, would you? Geez, just imagine trying to explain. Struggle? Well, not really. Protest and tell him no? Um, does 'stop, someone might come' count? I suspected not. Tell them you were stunned into immobility because you didn't believe that anyone would have the audacity to do that? I don't think so. Explain that you were naked under a flimsy robe because you'd just got up and were going to take a shower? That'd go down real well, wouldn't it? I just put the whole thing to one side.

Over the next couple of days I did some hiking and even went out in the boat and did some fishing. Or drowned some worms, anyway. The fish didn't like my offering and steadfastly refused to sample them. Irritating when everyone else seemed to be able to catch the silly things. I decided that the fish just didn't like me.

Now obviously I was going to encounter that man around the camp, but that didn't mean I was going to acknowledge his existence. I did see him a couple of times but I just wandered elsewhere, finding myself annoyed because he was ignoring me. He could at least have had the decency to approach and try to apologise for his despicable behaviour, not that I wanted him to. I just considered it poor manners that he didn't.

On Monday Paul was again up and away early, getting in some last minute fishing. There was some sort of competition going and he was hoping he might catch a tagged fish. Personally, I had a nice hike around the lake planned. After breakfast and a shower I was on my way.

I walked off briskly, leaving the camp and heading north. Just up past the camp was a picnic area for day visitors. Far too early for any day visitors at this hour of the morning, though, so the area was deserted. Strolling through the picnic area I saw someone coming the other way and moved to the side to avoid him. Of course the idiot promptly did the same and we started doing the dodge them dance.

When you get into that sort of situation your best bet is to just stand still and let the other person worry about passing you without bumping into you, so that's what I did. Naturally he did the same thing, coming to a stop in front of me. I gave him an irritated look which turned into a really irritated look when I recognized him. It was Mister Cocky and Confident himself, smiling at me.

I would like to make one thing clear at this point. When I describe him as Mister Cocky I am referring to his attitude, not his personal equipment. I never got to actually see said equipment. Felt it, most assuredly, but I did not see it, nor did I want to.

"How dare you stop me?" I demanded. "If you're here to apologize, don't bother. I don't want to know. Feel free to continue on your way."

"Apologize?" he asked, sounding shocked to think such a thing might be necessary. "I don't think so. However, as per your suggestion I will continue."

There's a slight difference between continue and continue on your way. I was dressed for a hike on a sunny day over flat ground. As far as I was concerned that meant tights and a loose smock, the smock coming down to about mid-thigh.

Would you believe the rotten man simply lifted up my smock, took hold of the tights, and pulled them down?

I was gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. Shocked and stunned. Might I also say I had a little trouble believing that he'd done that?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shrieked at him. Foolish question, I know. He had already unzipped his trousers and was hauling his erection out. This time I was seeing it. In my opinion I was seeing far too much of it. I'm quite sure it wasn't that big the other day.

"Continuing, like you asked me too," he said smiling at me. How he could have such evil intent and such a sweet smile is beyond me.

"Now I know you're upset because we were in such a hurry last time but this time I think you'll find we can take our time. Nobody will be here for hours."

While we'd been talking he'd been moving towards me and I'd been backing away. Do you blame me? I'll bet you'd back away if you saw a cock that size coming towards you. Unfortunately I backed up against one of the picnic tables and now I was leaning back against it while he was getting closer.

"I'm still married," I pointed out rather desperately.

"Well, yes, I rather assumed that. Don't worry," he said, lifting the hem of my smock and rolling it up around my waist. "This time we'll start off nice and slow and you'll be able to watch what happens."

I didn't want to start off nice and slow. I didn't want to start off at all. I especially did not want to watch. That's what I found myself doing, however. He pushed a knee forward, making me part my legs a little more, and then I had the misfortune to see his cock pushing between my legs and start nudging me in a very personal manner.

"I don't want you to do this," I enunciated slowly and clearly, making sure he couldn't misunderstand the message.

He misunderstood the message. Deliberately, I didn't doubt.

"Stop fussing," he told me. "We'll do it the way you want to do it another time. This time it'll be my way."

What do you say to such unbelievable gall? I didn't have the faintest idea meaning that I wound up saying nothing. Not that anything seemed to bother him. His cock had made its connection and he was pushing into me.

It seemed he was serious about taking it nice and slow. His initial thrust was just a single step faster than a dead stop. His cock was moving into me at the slowest pace I'd ever encountered and, because he seemed to have an excess of cock, he was taking ages to slide home. I was left standing there watching him push slowly in, feeling him creeping along inside my passage. I was starting to feel a wild desire to push myself frantically against him just to get the damned thing into action.

I refrained, of course, but it was a near thing. I just leaned back against the table, watching the train-wreck happen, silently cursing and unable to do a single damn thing about it. (For some reason the thought of physical violence just didn't occur to me. I mean, he wasn't being rough or violent, just placidly determined.)

He finally managed to drive fully into me and with that accomplished he picked up the pace. Just like that he jumped from a crawl to a slow walk. Faster, but only marginally.

It didn't take long for me to be breathing hard. That gentle rub of cock along my passage was getting to me, and in a big way. I found that I was now in a cleft stick, two options, both of them unpalatable. If I kept my big mouth shut he was going to try and keep this up, just to see how long he could draw it out. He was just the type of man to do that, a thorough sadist. If it asked him to speed things up and do it properly then I was effectively condoning what he was doing and I didn't want to. I hadn't asked for this and he had no right. I opted for keeping my mouth shut. I could outlast him, I just knew I could.

It was terrible. He just kept on going, smiling all the while, and I couldn't stand it. I wanted to scream and had to just stay there, moving gently with him, my excitement screaming inside me. I wasn't going to be able to outlast him, damn it. What sort of monster was he?

I climaxed. I couldn't help it. It just overcame me and carried me away. What I could do, I found, was pretend it wasn't happening. I just pressed a hand against my mouth, making sure I didn't scream while I shivered inside.

And he kept right on going, moving softly, softly, if you can call a cock as hard and hot as his soft. I noticed that he was now breathing a lot harder even if he was trying to hide it. I now had a second wind and I found myself giving him a nasty smile. My excitement was rising again but I had time on my side now. He was just about through, whether he liked it or not.

I just let the excitement build. I mean, what did I care if I had another climax? Obviously I didn't. I couldn't care if I had several more. He was the poor poonce who was only going to get a single bang for his buck.

He was driving in faster now, a touch of desperation in his movement. I just kept on smiling, letting my own passions build. I actually laughed when he gave up and started driving in fiercely, all set to explode.

I'll give him this. He managed to last until I had my second climax and then he lost it, almost collapsing at his need was finally satisfied.

He was totally beat and I was feeling all warm and glowing. I straightened up my clothes, ready to continue with my hike.

"You'll have to work on your stamina," I told him, speaking gently and kindly. "Don't worry. I'm sure your performance will improve as you get more experience."

With that I took off on my hike, moving briskly just in case he wanted to try again. I doubted it though. The way he looked he'd have to crawl to get back to the fishing camp. Still, he had given me an idea. I wondered if Paul would be willing to try that slowly, slowly, stunt at some stage.