My husband Richard had left me to close up our summer cottage for the year. He had left to fly to medical conference in Austin Texas.
Richard was a distinguisher specialist in internal medicine with a very large practice in the city. My husband was twenty-seven years my senior but in the physical condition of a man of thirty.
The cottage was located on the shore of Rill Lake in the heart of the Muskokas, a Mecca for summer cottagers. Although it was a “cottage” it had all the mod cons, air conditioning, big screen satellite TV and even a microwave oven.
Richard had arranged with one of the locals to look after the physical chores when we left for the season. Jack Hammond was the twenty-year-old son of an old Mohawk couple who lived year-round in one of the original homesteads on the lake. Jack ploughed snow for the township during the winter and collected unemployment benefits for the remainder of the year. The extra under-the-table cash augmented his meager income.
Jack would bring in the boat dock, drain the plumbing system and put shutters on the windows. If there were heavy snowfalls through the winter he would shovel the heavy snow off the roof. For these services Richard slipped him $500 cash.
It was my favorite time of the year at the lake. August had been unusually hot and raised the water temperature to where it was still comfortable for swimming. Even now into September the daytime temperatures were in the pleasant 70’s dropping only slightly in the evening.
After Labor Day the population around the lake dropped drastically as the summer crown headed back south to their jobs and school. All that were left were the year-rounders, three families living in permanent dwellings.
There were the Hammond’s, the Terrell’s and Dave Long, the pig farmer. Fortunately Long’s piggery was downwind from the cottages. Five miles of narrow roar connected Rill Lake to Baysville, the closest town.
I awaked late Tuesday morning to a serene world. The only sounds were the cries of the Loons across the lake. Making myself a cup of coffee I ventured out onto the deck to welcome the day.
As I expected no one to be around I did not bother to dress but just wore the filmy short nightie I had slept in, the freedom felt so good.
I was only on the deck a few minutes when Al Bentley’s white Caravan came making its way along the road. Al delivered the Globe & Mail newspaper to the lake inhabitants every morning bringing the news from the big city.
“Good morning Mrs. Ryan.” Al greeted me cheerily as he got out of the van to bring the paper to me.
“Good morning Al.” I replied.
I noticed the gray hair fox was talking to my breasts which were very visible though their thin covering.
“Looks like it will be a nice day for a final dip in the lake.” I suggested.
“I would ask you to wait for me to get done and join you but the missus has plans for me.” Al said dismally.
I made myself some toast for breakfast. We were getting low on groceries but I did not want to buy anymore before I left.
After breakfast I slipped on a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a Nike tee shirt, sans underwear. I decided to take one last trip around the lake while the outboard was still n the water. The 9.5 h.p. Evinrude started on the first pull and I pointed the bow of the aluminum skiff towards the end of the lake.
The boat was not fast, Richard had it mainly for fishing. It was a sunny day and I was in no hurry as the boat cruised towards the isolated end on Rill Lake.
There were no cottages, not even a road at the east end of the lake. The shoreline was rocky with no beach,
I guided the boat into a niche in the rocks and killed the motor. Gently the boat nudged against the rocky shoreline. Grabbing the painter I hopped out onto the rocks and secured the boat to an old cedar branch.
I was totally isolated from the world, only a solitary Cardinal scolding me from atop a nearby Pine. The sun was almost overhead now, a good chance to catch some rays.
I loved nude sunbathing whenever I got a chance. At home I spent 2 – 3 hours a week nude in the tanning beds at Studio Tropicana. No tan lines on this gal!
I spread the towel I had brought with me on the rocks and slipped off my shirt and shorts. Totally naked I sprawled out in the bright sun after a liberal application of lotion.
After about an hour of soaking up the sun while listening to tunes on my ipod I decided to head back to the cottage. I slipped on my shorts and boldly decided to make the return trip topless until I got closer to home.
I only passed one other boat on my way back, brazenly waving with my bare breasts exposed to a lonely fisherman.
Once back at the cottage I busied myself storing articles away for use next year. Coming across an old photo album I sat looking at pictures for years gone by, reminiscing of the good times Richard had enjoyed in the early years of our marriage.
Oh how I missed those days, we were so much in love we just lived for each other. Now Richard was consumed in his work and I in a bunch of silly social groups. I yearned for the wild passionate sex I no longer enjoyed.
I was brought out of my daydream by the sound of Jack Hammond knocking on the door,
“Yes?” I said to the local yokel as I opened the door.
“I was just wondering if you needed anything looking after Mrs. Ryan?” Hammond asked.
I was bored having spent the day alone. “Come in Jack.”
Jack was a strapping example of the local youth. Well built with little ambition. Put a cold bottle of Molson’s Canadian in his hand and he was happy.
“You can help me with covering the furniture.” I asked my volunteer.
I caught Jack looking at the movement of my unrestrained breasts beneath my tee shirt.
“Oh sure Mrs. Ryan.” Jack snapped back to reality.
“You can call me Michelle.” I said, “Mrs. Ryan sounds like I am mother.”
“OK Mrs., Ryan…err I mean Michelle,” he grinned.
I showed Jack where the sheets were kept that we used as covering for the furniture.
“Do you have a girlfriend Jack?” I cheekily asked.
“Elsie May Kennedy and I are engaged to be married next summer.” Jack beamed.
Elsie May Kennedy was a large busted blonde bimbo who was the Baysville slut. Kennedy’s source of income was selling her luscious body to the seasonals.
“Congratulations.” I said sarcastically.
Married to a whore who could afford to keep him in brown pop, his dream come true!
We worked away for about an hour, Jack’s eyes constantly scrutinizing me. I knew when I bent over my short cutoffs would ride up showing a lot of my bare ass cheeks beneath and the constant swaying and jiggling of my free boobs was giving Jack a woody.
“Wanna go in to the Blackfly?” I asked my helper.
The Blackfly Inn was the local watering hole in Baysville. Owned by a retired air force type and his wife it was little more than an old house converted into a drinking establishment. It’s main advantage being it was the only bar within thirty miles and located right on the banks of the Muskoka River, accessible by both boat and road.
“Sure!” Hammond readily agreed.
I left Hammond to tidy up while I went to shower and change. Deliberately I left the bathroom door open so my guest could glance in while we continued to talk.
“What do you think I should wear Jack?” I asked naked from the bathroom.
“Just one of your pretty dresses Mrs. Ryan.” Jack suggested.
Slipping on a thong and a low push-up bra a sauntered out into the living room holding two dresses on hangers.
“Which one do you like?” I asked coyly.
Jack’s eyes were full of my almost naked body, “Err…the blue one is nice.” he offered.
I slipped the baby blue satin minidress on over my head and returned to the bedroom to finish my hair and makeup.
Jack had made a good choice; the blue dress was the shortest of my collection, ending just below my almost bare ass cheeks. I would be the center of attention at the Blackfly.
I had briefly entertained the bizarre idea of fucking Hammond I was in such a horny mood. I had to remind myself there were several “dreamboats” waiting back in the city who would love to get their delicious cocks wet in me. Doctor Ryan’s young wife’s pussy was much desired.
I let Hammond drive us into Baysville in my Candy Apple Red Vette. I sat in the right seat, my skirt up around my crotch as the cool breeze soothed my aching pussy.
There were tow pickups and a dust old Taurus in the Blackfly’s gravel parking lot when we pulled in. After the exodus of the seasonals it reverted back to just a convenient spot for the boys to get together and spin tales over a few cold brews.
It was dark as we entered and out eyes had to become accustom to the dim light. The handfuls of patron’s eyes were of course use to the low light level and were keenly examining the newcomers. Jack sashay to the bar to order our drinks from the keep, Noel Flagg, bartender and proprietor. I found a vacant table next to the pool table.
Flagg was a happy redhead about in his fifties. He and his wife Mary run the establishment, hiring Elsie May Kennedy part-time to wait tables in the busy season. Flagg knew Kennedy dressed the place up a bit and brought in many of the punters who didn’t want to drive all the way to Huntsville to get laid.
I took a quick inventory of the room. I was apparently the only female. There were Flagg and Jack of course, and three locals sitting at the bar.
Two of the locals were older than my husband but the other was a young lad about Jack’s age.
Jack returned to the table carrying my double rye on the rocks and his bottle of Canadian. Placing the drinks on the table he went over and pumped some quarters into the jukebox. Kenny Rogers begin telling the room “You got to know when to hold them…” as Jack finished making his selections.
Jack joined me once again at the table and we sat enjoying our much-appreciated refreshments.
I noticed the three at the bar were staring in out direction obviously trying to get a better look at me. As the light was dim I teased them a bit by opening my legs so they could get an unclear view of my open crotch covered by the skimpy thong.
Sure enough as the next slow ballad begin the young guy came to our table and asked if I would like to dance. I Iooked at Jack and accepted the offer.
We were the center of attention on the small dance floor. My partner introduced himself as Todd as he held me close to him.
Todd was holding me so close I could feel his erection pressed against my pelvis. He had both of his hands full of my ass cheeks and was working my dress up over my thong. I did not resist but continued to dance as the room watched his hands caressing my almost bare ass.
Everyone in the room realized they had another Elsie May Kennedy here. I was horny and I wanted to get fucked!
Jack walked over to the bar to speak to Flagg.
“Isn’t that Doc Ryan’s wife?” Flagg asked.
Todd’s hands were now inside my thong and working around to the front.
Jack smiled, “Lock the door Noel.”
Flagg did as he was asked; adult entertainment was about to come to the Blackfly!
Suddenly Tina Turner begins crooning “Private Dancer” from the jukebox. I don’t know if it was the booze, the music or the desire to keep the stage, I moved away from Todd and begin to strip.
As I slipped my dress off one shoulder the audience began cheering realizing I was about to perform an impromptu show. Slipping it off the other shoulder I teasingly let it fall to mat waist revealing an overflowing low-cut bra.
After an appropriate pause I released the dress and allowed it to fall to the floor around my ankles. Cheers broke out, as I stood before them in only the skimpiest of thongs and provocative bra.
“More, more!” the chorus broke out.
Naughtily my fingers went to the front fastener on my bra. The clasp release easily and I opened the cups like the wings of a butterfly allowing my bare breasts to escape.
“Holy crap!” I heard someone exclaim.
I tossed the useless bra aside and hooked my thumbs under the narrow waistband of my thong.
Guys now had their cocks out and were openly stroking their erections waiting for me to unveil my cunt.
I didn’t get a chance to peel off my thong before I was literally lifted into the air and deposited horizontal on the bar. Unknown hand removed my thong for me while other hands groped my naked breasts and fingers explored my pussy. I realized I was about to be satisfied by five cocks!
A huge ejection appeared inches above my face as my mouth was offered a feast of cockmeat. Reaching up I guided the bulbous head into my mouth. The enormous shaft throbbed as I sealed my lips around it. As I inhaled I felt a wonderful sensation in my pussy, a tongue was squirming around inside my cervix!
I don’t remember but somehow I got from the top of the bar to the top of the pool table. My legs hung over one side, bent at my knees, and my head rested on the rail of the opposite side. The tabletop was just the right height that a man’s dick would be just the right height as he approached me.
The first cock slid forcefully into me. Glancing down I saw it was one of the old-timers fucking me. My cunt contracted around his ancient meat.
Three hard cocks were being offered to my mouth as the first guy fucked me. It was a game of “musical mouth” as I took one cock and then another into my mouth while grandpa continued to sample my pussy.
In minutes I was being drowned in a sea of spurting cum, the sticky white stuff splattered my face and was pumped down my throat. A guttural grunt signaled the old guy’s cumming in my twat.
One after the other they sampled my sodden pussy. Cocks slid in and out with soft squishing sounds as load after load of cum was added to my receptacle.
Guys were grunting and groaning as they drained their balls into and over my naked body.
It was late when we left the Blackfly for the drive back to the cottage. I sat silent during the drive meditating on the supreme fucking I had just been given. Five men’s sperm swam within my womb.
As Richard was not very potent I relied on “the morning after pill” for birth control. Richard said it was about 68% effective and had worked fine up until now?
Jack and I spent another week at the cottage before I returned to the city. And yes, I did make an encore appearance at the Blackfly Inn!