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Oscar and Mara
by Abelard (abelard_fra@hotmail.com)

***

An older friend of mine got to talking about his affair 
with a "younger" woman and he inspired me to write this 
tale of a camping trip he took with her. This story 
evokes the essential kindness of a particular woman 
toward a particular man's aging (and sometimes impotent) 
body. (MF, affair, cheat)

***

Mara moved ahead of me on the trail. "Come on, slow 
poke, we'll never make the lake before dark at this 
rate!"

I put the lens cap back on my camera and watched as 
Mara's marathon strengthened calf muscles flexed ahead 
of me up the slope. In her hiking shorts, her strong, 
well tanned legs looked pretty good indeed. One more 
ridge and we would be at the Saffire Lake campsite, as 
remote from civilization as you could get in the state 
of North Carolina.

After fifteen minutes my asthmatic fifty-five year old 
lungs burned, and the heavy pack with supplies for a 
week cut menacingly into my shoulders. I was never so 
happy as when we stopped at the top of the ridge and 
looked down into the vast green valley where Saffire 
Lake gleamed silver in the late afternoon sun.

Mara was sitting on her own pack, smiling teasingly back 
at me as I shrugged off the burden and collapsed beside 
her. "What are you, tired? Old man like you should know 
better than to go into the woods with young thing like 
me!" Mara, of course, was forty two, but trim and fit as 
a thirty year old. Her smooth forehead under its white 
blonde hair showed hardly a drop of perspiration.

"Fuck you."

"Here? Now? You think you're up to it?" I groaned and 
pretended to unzip my fly.

Mara stood and wiggled her butt at me as she picked up 
her own pack and slung it on her shoulders again. "Here 
we go! Two more miles, all downhill. Think you can 
handle it, stud? Keep up with me and I'm yours for the 
night."

She grinned impishly as she started down the trail at a 
full trot. I yelled, "Fuck it! If I keep up with that 
pace, it won't do me any good if you're all mine 
tonight." Mara turned and stuck her tongue out at me.

Half an hour later we walked into the Saffire Lake 
campsite, its wide lean-to invitingly dark and empty. 
Mara, ahead of me as ever, said, "Thank God! Nobody else 
is here. Looks like we have the place to ourselves, at 
least for tonight."

She began to spread the skimpy foam half mattresses and 
bed rolls as I looked around the place. A big stone fire 
pit with a rusted but serviceable grill sat in front of 
the lean-to. The previous tenants had been considerate, 
because beside the fire pit was enough fresh wood to 
last the night. The broad piney trail led gently down to 
the sandy beach, and the mile wide lake stretched 
beyond. Behind that the old rolling mountains of the 
Blue Ridge rose softly to the west.

The sun was shimmering on the ridgeline, and I knew it 
would be full dark within the hour. I turned and 
unhooked the small Coleman lantern from the pack and 
rummaged until I found the butane lighter. I set them on 
the picnic table to the right of the lean-to and 
carefully laid a fire in the fire pit: two pages from 
the old TV Guide we had brought (it had to last all 
week), some pine needles and twigs, some slightly larger 
pieces spread carefully over that so the air could flow 
properly upward to ignite the larger split wood I would 
add after the fire caught.

Mara came up behind me as I bent to put the last of the 
small wood on the pyre. She lay her lithe frame over my 
back and wrapped her arms around me, one hand on my 
chest the other reaching for my groin. "Want chicken or 
beef for dinner?" (squeezing my nipples then my balls to 
emphasize each choice).

The freeze dried dinners were in packets which she had 
pulled from the backpacks and put, along with the other 
food, into the plastic sack we would hang from the 
trees, out of reach of small scavengers.

"Beef. Got to keep up my manly strength."

She snorted and probed my groin again, "Manly strength, 
eh? I don't feel much manly strength around here."

"You will, sweetheart. You will. You will feel such 
manly strength by morning that you won't be able to walk 
for a week!" I said with as much bravado as I could 
muster.

"Oh goody! But let's eat first, okay? I'm starved!" She 
handed me the lighter and went to find the collapsible 
plastic jug for water. I had started the fire and was 
laying the bigger wood on when she came back with a full 
water jug and a smile.

"You should see the pretty little stream just over 
there. All mossy and babbling and cold. Small enough to 
jump across. The water is delicious." She took a swig 
from the jug and sprayed it at me from her mouth. "Got 
to dampen your ardor somehow," she laughed.

"Gimme," I said, "I'm pretty thirsty after that trek." I 
guzzled about a pint and then put the jug down. I 
approached Mara and offered to take her into my arms. 
She came willingly forward, and as we kissed I 
transferred a mouthful of water into her mouth. Her 
initial surprise was followed by a vigorous attempt to 
give it back to me. Water dribbled down our chins as we 
giggled like children.

We put the dinner together, mixing the nearly weightless 
freeze dried concoction with water to make a stew, and 
setting the aluminum cook pot over the fire. As I got it 
situated on the grill, I said, "I love you, Mara. This 
trip was exactly what we both needed."

"Yeah, and wasn't it considerate of both of our spouses 
to be away for the week at the same time? Think they 
planned it and are together somewhere, fucking their 
brains out?"

"Are you kidding me? Mary wouldn't know how, and surely 
wouldn't want to if she did!"

"So are you saying that you are a lousy teacher? Dirk is 
pretty good at it ...for five minutes at a time."

"Besides which, they're both such A type personalities 
they'd probably have to schedule it in, and each of them 
would be on guard to make sure that one of them didn't 
enjoy it one spurt more than the other did."

"Oooh! I love it when you talk dirty! Spurt me some 
spurts any time. I promise I won't count 'em. Where is 
Mary anyway?"

"She's in San Francisco for a trial...may actually be 
there for six weeks. She's the lead attorney, and 
nervous as hell"

"Son of a gun! Dirk is in San Francisco too! Maybe they 
really are shacking up together! Where's Mary staying?"

"At the old Stanford on Mission. She loves the old 
hotels."

"Phew, Dirk's at the Hyatt out by the airport. He likes 
fast getaways."

"And he's there for the geology conference, downtown?"

"Yeah, Rock Jocks for Oil."

"And here we are, miles from nowhere, with a week to get 
acquainted."

"How much more acquainted you wanna' get, buster? You've 
already explored every nook and cranny I've got!"

"And lovely nooks and crannies they are! I just want to 
make sure they're all safe and secure and still in good 
working order."

"Seems like you're the one who has problems with things 
in good working order," she chuckled.

"Well, my tongue is still in good shape, whether Mr. 
Wiggly is gonna cooperate or not."

"I knoooow. Oh, Ozzie, I love you. And I LOOOOVE you 
tongue, and I love Mr. Wiggly too, even if he is mean to 
me sometimes and won't come out and play."

"Price you pay for hanging out with an old guy. Maybe we 
could get that stud back in Morgan's Crossing up here to 
service you."

"The kid at the Mobil Station where we turned off the 
paved road? He WAS gorgeous, Oz. Also, he was seventeen. 
I'd feel just plain silly. Probably fucks his sister 
every night anyway."

"Well, if it was his mother he fucks, you'd be in 
business."

In a typical reversal Mara said, "So, what you're saying 
is, you could get it up for a sweet young thing, but not 
for an old hag like me?"

"Mara, the day you are a hag, whales will shit in 
London. I doubt that anybody, at any age, could inspire 
me any more than you do."

We smiled at each other and prepared the rest of the 
campsite for the night as the smell of reconstituted 
beef stew began to rise from the campfire. When we were 
set up, Mara moved in and kissed me sweetly, then 
lingeringly, then with fully open mouth and probing 
tongue. We clung for a while, knees getting weaker, as 
the stew boiled over on the fire.

After a surprisingly tasty dinner, we put more brush on 
the fire and broke out the half-gallon of Wild Turkey, 
our one exemption to considering the weight of 
everything we carried.

We settled against the large log at the front of the 
lean-to and sipped slowly as the fire crackled and our 
sense of the darkness just beyond the firelight 
magnified. Mara snuggled in closer and played with the 
buttons on my shirt. We drank steadily while the 
conversation meandered.

Finally, Mara asked, "What'd you tell Mary about where 
you would be?"

"Huh? Oh, I told her I was going camping."

"Alone?"

"Nah, with the guys."

"What guys?"

"The guys from my fishing club. Mary has absolutely no 
contact with them, and even if they call and leave 
messages on my machine, I'll be able to erase them 
before Mary gets home. What'd you tell Dirk?"

"I didn't."

"Huh?"

"I didn't tell him anything. He never calls when he's on 
the road"

"And if he does?"

"I'll just tell him I was off with the girls."

"That works, huh?"

"Oh sure. One time Jane, and Betty, and I just took off 
for Florida for four days. Dirk doesn't care, he just 
wants me to have a good time."

"Lucky you. Mary resents every minute I'm having a good 
time. She usually calls every night when she's away, and 
I've got to account for every second."

Mara snorted, "Well? Look what you go and do the second 
she leaves."

"You saying we shouldn't be here? You wanna go home?"

"No, I'm saying I wouldn't trust a big handsome hunk 
like you either!"

"Mara, I am absolutely, one hundred percent faithful to 
you."

"What d'ya mean? You're cheating on ME with your WIFE!"

"Except for Mary."

"You're just a two timin' man in a one timin' world."

"It's a one timin' world, alright!"

"Yeah, you only go around once. Ya gotta grab for all 
the gusto ya can!" In truth, this was one of Mara's 
primary rationalizations for our affair.

"I think I'll grab me a little gusto right now." We 
kissed for a few minutes while I ran my hands over 
Mara's soft chest.

All too soon the bottle of bourbon was nearly one 
quarter empty and we were both buzzing contentedly. I 
knew Mr. Wiggly was done for, for tonight.

As we zipped our matching sleeping bags together to form 
one big one, Mara looked sleepily at me, "I'm wiped. 
Let's just go to sleep. See you in the morning."

Thank God for small favors... and kind women.

We both stripped and put on men's tee shirts... just a 
little something over the shoulders to ward off the 
morning chill. Once again I admired Mara's lithe body in 
the firelight. At forty two Mara was as firm as a woman 
half her age, and her somewhat narrow hips and small 
breasts gave her an even more youthful look. I found 
myself once again wishing I had known her years ago, 
when I could keep an erection all night.

I took the large broom that we had found hanging on the 
wall and laid it by my side. We could hear the rustle of 
small animals nearby as we drifted off in the dying 
campfire light. We had been careful not to bring any 
food into the lean-to, so I didn't think we would be 
invaded by bears, but raccoons might be inquisitive 
enough to sniff us. The broom wouldn't do much good, 
even against a raccoon if one got mad, but I figured 
that I might startle it off with a sudden swat if need 
be.

My precaution proved unnecessary, but as the dawn was 
turning from grey to pink, I awoke as four deer came 
around the corner of the lean-to and walked sedately 
down to the water. I was lying on my stomach, raised on 
my elbows to watch as Mara rolled over more or less on 
top of me. She slung her right leg over the small of my 
back and I could feel the warmth of her cunt on my left 
haunch. Mara whispered, "Good morning." Then she saw the 
deer and continued, "Oooh, pretty... where's my ouzi?"

"Pistol packin' mama, don't you shoot your guns at me!"

"I gotta pee."

"Me too."

"Let's do cross pees together."

"Huh?"

"I squat with my legs spread, and you pee where I'm 
peeing."

I reached around her back with my left hand and probed 
her ass, trying to reach her cunt. "I pee where you're 
peeing? Sounds pretty unsanitary to me."

She spread to accommodate me better, but said, "Well, 
silly, you don't pee where I'm peeing FROM, you pee on 
the ground where I'm peeing TO."

"And splashes don't count?"

"We'll go wade in the lake after."

"Okay."

By this time I had rolled onto my right side as Mara 
lifted her leg off my back. I brought my left hand 
around in front of her and cupped her whole pudendum. 
Slowly I began sliding my two middle fingers into the 
slit, admiring, once again the plumpness of Mara's 
vaginal lips and the increasing wetness of her cunt. She 
frequently referred to her life as a soap opera she 
named "The Edge of Wetness." It was apt, and one of her 
many endearing qualities. We kissed briefly but Mara 
said, "Wait, I really do have to pee."

So we climbed out of the sleeping bag together and 
stepped a couple yards into the woods. As we tried 
Mara's cross pees, with the inevitable ankle wetting, I 
asked, "Who taught you this little ritual?"

"Dirk and I used to do it, to seal our relationship... 
mixing of ALL bodily fluids and all that. Until he got 
to be such an old fuddyduddy."

"When was that?"

"When did he become...? The day we were married."

We finished and waded knee deep into the lake, standing 
there each in a tee shirt as the sun's first rays lit 
the top of the mountain across the lake. The morning 
mists swirled idly up from the surface of the lake, and 
we were Adam and Eve at the dawn of time.

I was standing just behind Mara, with my hands on her 
shoulders as she leaned her bare ass back against me, 
and began rubbing it around slowly, warming both it and 
my slowly rising cock. I was just reaching that state 
when my cock is like a half inflated balloon and begins 
to increase in sensitivity, when Mara reached back and 
took it gently in her hand.

She smiled up at me over her shoulder and offered her 
mouth. We kissed as I came around more to her side so 
that my cock was not behind her anymore. I slid my hand 
down her ass, admiring for the thousandth time the 
satiny skin over strong muscles, and slipped my fingers 
around so that I grazed her anus on the way by and 
stopped when the tips of my fingers just barely parted 
the lips of her cunt.

Mara turned toward shore and led me slowly by the cock 
to the sandy beach. 

We fucked languidly as the sun rose through the trees 
and warmed the air.

The End

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 71