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The next morning I was showering in the bunkhouse, when Steve came in. When he saw me, he hesitated for a second, then shrugged and stripped, taking position at the shower next to mine. I took a moment to admire his fit body, the water rushing over his tanned skin, his bulging muscles everywhere. He turned to wash his hair, and I spied a faded tattoo on his hip, on the front, under the belt line but above his crotch. It was Alice, from “Through the Looking Glass”. In one hand she held a cake, the other a bottle. I pointed to it and asked “Is there a behind that?”
Steve grinned, “Yes. I got it in the service, years ago. Kind of a joke. Do you get it?”
I thought about it for a moment. In the fairy tale, when Alice sees the cake labeled “Eat me” she tastes it and grows to giant size. When she swallows from the bottle marked “Drink me” she deflates again.
I looked at the tattoo again. Alice was looking at Steve’s thick mushroomheaded cock. I chuckled.
Steve grinned. “A bonus is that it gets people to check out my dick!” he said, soaping up his body.
After we showered, Steve asked me to get Ken up, and see if he wanted to go hunting. Ken was thrilled, and was ready in no time. I was actually looking forward to spending more time with Steve, but the boys insisted they needed to get an early start, and off they went.
I used the time to explore that ranger station: there was Steve’s Airstream trailer, up on blocks and so old the tires had dry rotted years ago. There was the bunkhouse, I poked around the neatly made beds, I smelled fresh linens and spied on a few locker boxes with pictures of cheesecake pinup girls stuck into the seams. The shower I’d been to, four shower heads, fed by a large tank positioned to get the most warm sunlight. The last structure was the fire tower, a massive steel and wood structure at the highest point in the camp. The cabin at the top was only accessible by a long ladder with a cage around it. I started up, determined to fearlessly make it to the top. I did, eventually, and opened up a trap door to the interior. The cabin itself was smallish, but was surrounded by glass then a walkway with a steel railing. At first, I stood in the center of the room, looking out, but fearful of the almost imperceptible swaying at height, but eventually, intoxicated by the view, I ventured out.
The view was spectacular, I think I could see the entire valley and well into the neighboring state, lush green trees, meadows with wildflowers, rivers and streams, for miles. It was an amazing view, this alone was worth the trip. There was a coffee maker and glass bottles of water on a desk, next to a set of binoculars. I helped myself to a hot steaming cup and spent the morning just looking out as if I was a ranger with a keen eye for fires. I felt amazing.
Around 2pm I was feeling hungry and bravely climbed down thinking to scrounge up a small lunch, when I heard Ken whoop and looked over to see him and Steve dragging a dead hog behind them. Ken was beaming, his first wild kill on our trip, Steve talked up how good Ken had been, stealthy movement, a keen eye. I hugged Ken and shared his pride and exuberant spirit, and I was genuinely proud of him.
He and Steve loaded the hog into Steve’s jeep. Steve explained that a local butcher would take in trade and in return provide the rangers with maple smoked bacon and other supplies. He said he’d be back in an hour, then he turned to Ken and I and said “Tonight we’re celebrating the promotion of ranger Fred, to company commander. It’s called the “Arrow of Fire” celebration, after an old Indian tradition. You are both welcome to stay.” Then he turned to me and said “But, it’s been known to be a little wild.”
I held Ken’s hand, and as Steven drove away, whispered to him “Wild? I hope so!”
Days before, while we were driving to this location, on the highway, Ken and I had time to talk. Surprisingly, he didn’t bring up how I’d gone from dutiful housewife to camp slut in a matter of days. We just made small talk, until I finally blurted out “I was looking forward to getting fucked by those rangers. Just like Janis did with her old football team, one man after another me, ejaculating in my pussy, my mouth, on my body. Over and over.” I intended for my comments to be shocking, so I paused to see what Ken’s reaction would be. We drove in silence for a while. Finally, Ken broke the ice.
Ken sighed, and said: “I know you did…well I suspected it. It wasn’t the right time, though.” so matteroffact, I was taken aback. It’s not every day a wife confesses to her husband that she fantasized about a gangbang. Ken didn’t seem fazed. I didn’t understand. I thought about it, hard.
“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked. Then feeling reckless, blurted out “Nothing I’ve done has bothered you?”
“I have to confess something,” he said after a while. “When I first told you I wanted to go on an adventure with you..” he began. “Do you remember your reaction?” He asked.
I smiled, “Yes, I thought you were crazy.” I replied. “I refused.”
“Yea.” Ken said. Then drove in silence for a while.
Then, he started to talk again. “Yea. At that moment, I decided to leave you. Maybe forever. No divorce, no drama, just get in the car and go.”
It was my turn to be shocked. My jaw literally hung open. Up to that time, I’d been an ideal wife, we had a beautiful family, a nice life. My shoulders shook with quiet sobs. Eventually, with a tear falling down my cheek, I croaked out “Why?”
Ken looked straight ahead. He said “Do you know how many families in even our small town had lost sons to the war? Innocent kids drafted, shipped off, never to return, unless in pieces a box? Young people, just starting out in life, fresh, eager, innocent people. In a heartbeat, utterly destroyed, all their dreams crushed and discarded. Entire families are scarred, broken and scattered.”
I was silent, I felt stunned.
“Once we got the youngest of our children off to college, I figured they were safe for 4 years, maybe more. It was our one chance to live life. To live for all the people who couldn’t any more. It was my obsession, my passion now.”
Ken turned and looked at me.
“I wanted to do this with you. When you refused, I was determined to do it without you: I would not be stopped. I’d made up my mind to leave you, I spent days crying, hardening my heart, imagining my life without you.”
Then he smiled. “But, in the end you agreed to come with me, share this experience with me. I felt at that moment, like I’d been reborn, saw you for the first time, and fell in love with you all over. I was even more determined that if you would share my adventure, I’d do everything in my power to support yours, whatever that entailed. Anything. We have one life. I want us to live it together.”
I had no words. Tears were streaming down my face. I slid over on the seat of our old station wagon, put an arm around Ken, my husband, and held him tight.
At the ranger station, we had time to wash up, then Ken busied himself with preparing some of the fresh herbs and mushrooms he’d found while hunting. We had time to ourselves, and I asked him “What was that secret you started telling me at the other campsite?”
Ken stopped in his tracks, then said “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…”
I looked at him, I reached out my hand and held his. “Really?” I started. “After the last few days, we still have secrets?”
Ken snorted. “I guess not.”
He took a deep breath and started: “After fishing for a while, Mike and Don kind of lost interest and started walking back to camp. I kept fishing, even though my basket was full, because they were still biting, if not as frequently. Eventually, I gave up and started back myself.”
“I heard a noise, laughing, so I moved to the bank and kept myself hidden, as I crept up to where the sounds came from. I moved silently, looked over and discovered Mike and Don nude, splashing in the deep part of the creek. I secreted myself in the creek side brush and watched for a moment, fascinated as these two young Adonis laughed and wrestled each other, their wet bodies glistening with water in the morning sun. At one point, Mike got Don into a headlock, and seconds later Don cried out “You win!”, just before Mike released him. Then, Mike leaned back on a ledge, and wagged his dick at Don. Don grabbed it and started to tug on it.”
I was fascinated by this , I felt myself getting aroused.
Ken continued: “Don knelt down and took Mike’s dick into his mouth, and started to suck. After a few minutes, they traded places, Don was getting his cock sucked by Mike. I was just about to leave my hiding place, when I heard Deb’s voice “There you are!” and she waded up to where Mike and Don were. Mike was grinning, Don was too focused on eagerly gobbling up Mike’s dick. In a flash, Deb joined Don and they both sucked Mike’s dick. I mean, it was already weird enough, then, when Deb joined in, my mind was blown: So many taboos, so many social norms violated. It was so dirty.”
Ken continued recalling the details: “I watched as Mike ran his fingers up and down her bare pussy. She moaned and rode his fingers. He slid two fingers into her. She pushed back and ground her ass into him. When he pulled his fingers out her pussy and his fingers were glistening with her wetness. He held his fingers up to her mouth. She licked them, eagerly.”
“They changed positions a few times until at last both Mike and Don ejaculated onto Deb’s tits, intense orgasms from the look of it. Then, they cleaned up and dressed, making their way back to camp. I waited until they were far ahead, then found another path back.”
Ken sighed. “I’d never seen anything like that.”
I thought about it for a moment, picturing it in my mind’s eye. Two beautiful young men, nude, muscular, hard cocks, each touching, tasting, pleasuring the other’s body. I felt my pussy tingling, I knew I was wet, I could almost feel the heat from it. I reached over and felt Ken’s crotch, his dick was rock hard, straining against his jeans.
“Did it turn you on?” I asked.
Ken hesitated. “Yes,” he finally admitted. “It was very erotic, I knew I should have been sickened, or repelled, but it was incredibly y.”
“Sickened? Why?” I asked, expecting Ken to reply with some prudish judgment.
“Didn’t you know?” He asked. “Deb is Leo’s mother. Don and Mike are Leo’s younger brothers. And twins.
I think my mouth hung open with shock.
I thought about it for a moment, Mother and sons? Scandalous. Then asked “When did you know that Deb was their mother?” Ken thought for a moment. “Well, that night Leo first started to seduce you, Deb mumbled something to me “..so much like his father.” He looked at me, his eyes clear, “Something in the way she said it made me wonder..”
“Later, I sneaked over to their van and found the maps, the car’s registration, a packet of licenses and insurance cards stuffed in the glove box. They all had the same last name. Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo…DiAngelo. Deb is closer to your age, believe it or not. She must have had Leo at 18, then the twins before she was 19.”
I just shook my head. “She looks younger than Leo..”
Then I recalled the other thing Ken had said, and asked “You liked watching men have with each other?”
Ken shrugged, “It was new, I guess.” Then he looked at me, and said “Look, it’s not something I’ll obsess over, I’m just glad we parted ways before…god knows what.”
I nodded, in agreement.
“I found something else. Don’s draft notice. He’s running. They all are. The route was marked on a map. They are all headed to Canada.”
I was shocked, I guess. It wasn’t that unusual, to be fair. But, we all knew families where the government plucked young men out of high school, shipped them overseas to war. We protested, we wrote our congress about the unfairness, outright wrongness of it all. But, turning tail and running just didn’t seem right.
A few hours later Steve returned, Ken helped him unpack, then other men started arriving at the station.
There were now 6 or more men, Steve, the blond Vikingish “Andy’s”, Rangers Tim, Fred and Jake. One older ranger they called “Injun Joe”, a tracker. They washed up and we ate together, a cordial meal and stories of campers lost and wolf sightings, encounters with bears and bad weather.
After dinner they busied themselves with donning American Indian garb; loin cloths, baggy burlap pants, wampum beaded chest pieces, they pushed eagle feathers into their headbands and applied warpaint to their faces. They eagerly helped Ken and I get into costume as well, as much as they had spare parts for. Myself, I fashioned a skirt out of a blanket, found a pair of old beaded moccasins, and worked a wide, beaded chest piece that barely hid my breasts.
Steve said to me: “As the Chief’s princess, the braves obey you, serve you, satisfy you.” Then he smiled and whispered “Call out my name, if you get overwhelmed..” and kissed me. I thought of Janis Joplin’s exploits, and said to myself “This one’s for us, sister!”
Steve built the fire high. He produced bottles of a clear spirit, it was strong, and tasted of spice and fruit, they passed it around. I took my swig like the guys did.
We made a circle around the bonfire, under the dark starfilled sky. Steve led the invocation “Great spirit, we thank you for the success of brother Fred, his promotion and leadership. We are blessed with bountiful hunting and clear weather, and the teachings of our great father Chief Two Deer, who’s wise teachings have been passed down from his tribe to ours. We are grateful for the company of new friends. Now, we honor our hi by releasing the fire arrow, so that all might share in our celebration!”
With that, someone loosed a flaming arrow, it arched high in the black sky and extinguished at its apogee, as if it had gone up into the sky itself. There was a great “Woop!” sound, then some men beat drums while the others started to dance. They passed around a long carved pipe, the smoke was acrid and strong, each taking a deep inhale and before passing it. They called me “Princess”. Steve announced, in between dances, that I was the ceremonial tribal princess tonight. He said “Sometimes they are sacrificed, other times worshiped.” Then he grinned and returned to the dance. Ken must have set this up for me, I felt elated.
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