Marriage can be a lonely place, two folks living together and yet being so far apart. It never used to be like that but I guess it comes with the ageing process; a mid-life crisis. To overcome our frustrations, my wife decided we would spend more time together away from our comfortable home, so one weekend every month we hire a log cabin at a campsite that sits between the forest and the lake. It might have been better to spend weekends apart and, realistically, that is exactly what we do!

She's befriended some other folk there and usually tags along with them whenever they go out. I remain in my solitude, enjoying the usual peace of the surroundings, listening to the birds singing in the trees, the leaves rustling gently in the breeze; even the stillness of the lake broken only by the soft breeze sending tiny ripples of water lapping onto the shoreline.

The scenery isn’t all beautiful with so many overweight leather-skinned women with enormous sagging breasts, nipples protruding like door pegs through their ill-fitting tops. And the men; grotesque, bulging guts overhanging waistbands.

My wife went off with her new buddies in their Cadillac for the day so I'm sitting outside my cabin surveying the site. Way off, facing the lake and highlighted in the blazing sun, I see you sitting on your cabin’s veranda. Your legs are crossed and I think how sexy they look. In fact I begin fantasising over you and soon have a semi rigid cock beginning to make a bulge in my shorts. You have that desirable effect on me.

Much as I want to jack off, I stay horny all day. You disappear from the veranda after I drift off to sleep for a while. Waking with a jolt - you have gone. Bugger it! It gets worse; my wife comes home with her friends who are laughing raucously, probably at my expense.

Eventually evening comes, and soon the night draws in. The moon casts its silvery shadow which shimmers across the lake. It is time for my constitutional walk in the woods. Soon the moon disappears under the shade of the trees and it is quite dark, though my eyes soon adjust to the limited visibility. Still fantasising about you and those gorgeous looking legs, I have a stiffy to end all stiffies, meaning there is only one thing I need to do. I lean against a tree, drop my shorts to free my cock which stands absolutely rigid.

It feels so natural, the breeze on the naked lower half of my body. Freedom. I take myself in hand and slowly begin rubbing it, avoiding my knob head. So nice, taking my time, visualising you and your sexy legs. I wish you were here, but of course you are only in my mind. My fantasy takes me up your legs and in between, feeling your crotch, fingering your clitoris gently, slipping my fingers into your moistened opening.

Breathing more heavily now, I gasp, my hand moves frantically up and down my stem. On the verge of climaxing, stomach muscles tighten then relax and it is nearly, nearly here...I pull my foreskin back so taut I think my cock will escape from its sheath. Then it happens like a violent storm. I cannot help grunting out loud as my cum spurts from me in one, two, three, four, five, six good loads. I rub my penis, emptying it of its final seepage. I am empty. My legs, like jelly. I rest against the tree feeling myself ebbing back to normality.

As I return to the campsite I catch a glimpse of you in the doorway of your cabin. You look lovely silhouetted against the light. I savour the moment before slipping into bed with my wife. My ‘if only’ fantasy returns and I am soon hard again. My wife lays naked, back to me, I think, ‘what if?’ But fuck no! Not up her ass!

The next day is much the same. I lounge about pretending that we are together causing my enormous erection that I have to hide beneath a newspaper.

Anyway it's mid-afternoon when I can stand it no longer. Back into the woods, deeper this time. I find a sheltered glade; make sure nobody is about and drop my shorts again. This time I lay on the ground, some of the pine needles sticking uncomfortably into my buttocks. Then I begin to rub myself harder and faster than before. It isn’t that I want to cum quickly, but you have been on my mind for so long I cannot stop myself. As I cum I turn on my side and watch my seed jet out. Heavenly.

Then I hear something worrying, a twig, followed by a second one cracking as if under someone’s feet. Panicking I pull my shorts up as I stumble to my feet. Has someone seen me? Embarrassing to say the least.

Back on the campsite I see you on your veranda, although you are some way off you smile and raise your hand in a little wave. I reciprocate but hurry back to my cabin.

In bed I dream of holding your breasts, kissing your lips, feeling between your legs and inserting my fingers into your vagina. Then, I fantasise further, you stroke my cock, guide it into you and we fuck ourselves stupid.

Day three and I am back in the woods, same place, shorts off and, this time t-shirt off as well. I am in a pretty safe place. It is fantastic. Naked and free. Cock upright, mind fantasising over you. Of course I masturbate again, but this time, before I cum, I hear crackling twigs again. I look around, grabbing my clothes but see no-one. With beating heart I dress and scurry back to camp, frustrated that I haven’t climaxed. All that unwanted seed waiting to be sprayed over the forest floor.

As I reach the site again, I see you just a little way ahead. You climb the steps up to your veranda, turn, see me and blow a kiss. You beckon me over and I furtively glance round before joining you.

‘Hello,’ I say rather formally, ‘I’m Vic.’

‘Dick?’ she queries.

My dick twitches as I repeat my name.

‘I’m Ella.’

Right up close to you, you don’t disappoint me in any way! Slightly older than me with perky little breasts which sit firm and upright in their holsters... a body I would die for...and if my wife catches me with you I would definitely die! Looking down at your legs I see you smile again and hitch your little summer dress up higher. I glimpse your stocking top and gasp.

If I wasn’t hard before, then I am now and obviously it shows as a large protrusion in my shorts. You look down at it and suggest we should go inside your cabin and do something about it. Did I hear right? Do something about it? You want to do something about it? YES! All my fantasising could be coming true.

You swing your hips as you turn and lead me into the cabin. It smells sweet, has the aroma of a woman about the place. In fact I can smell the sweetness of your perfume wafting behind you.

‘I watched you, Vic. In the forest. I saw what you were doing and I got very aroused. I wanted to help you but I was scared I might frighten you.’

Your hand reaches down and grips me through my shorts. To say I am surprised is an understatement, and I am just as embarrassed. The only person who has seen me jerk off is my wife in our younger days. I just make a habit of jerking off whenever I want and usually in the open air. So much better there.

You tell me to sit on the sofa which faces through the window overlooking the beautiful lake. The sun is shining in. You tell me to relax as you pull my top off and rest your hands on my shoulders. You are very gentle. You bend down and kiss me on the lips, full on the lips. Your lips are soft and fleshy, and could so easily be accommodating.

As I begin to fondle your breasts, not as small as I thought before, but nice enough for anyone to have and to hold. I remember a school mate telling me tits were tits whatever their size.

You sit beside me, one arm around my shoulder, the other slipping down to my boner.

You help me pull my shorts off and there I am again, stark naked with a pretty woman I hardly know.

‘That’s a beauty...’ I hear you say as your free hand rests playfully on it, its hardness now firmly against my stomach. ‘You are a big boy, Vic,’ you say and I am quite chuffed with that as I always feel inferior to the studs in the porn magazines and movies.

‘Just lay back and let me help you do something to relieve this hard stick of yours.’ Your fingers encircle its girth and you give a delightful little giggle, I move my hand down your body towards your stomach but you stop me. ‘Not yet, you naughty boy!’ That takes me aback considering you are clasping my prick in your hand. Still, as long as I get relief...

You slip slowly off the sofa so you are kneeling on the floor in front of me. Both hands are now enveloping my cock; your fingers interlocked. You begin to slowly stroke me, to rub me up and down, up and down, smoothly, slowly, gently. I have a lot of tension in my body and it is all directed down to my cock.

You are controlling me; you have this touch which tells me you know exactly what a man likes and how he likes it done. You keep stroking me, up and down, up and down, getting slightly faster, but not fast enough. Had I been doing myself I would have cum twice over by now. You just kept stroking, knowing which parts of me to touch and which to leave alone.

You look up at me and smile, purse your lips then brush them along my stem. You draw your tongue along it, then kiss its head. I feel like I want to burst but you slow me down, kiss my stem again, fondle my balls, trace lines on my inner thighs, back to my balls and then a finger slips between my buttock cheeks.

You part your lips and take the tip of my penis into your mouth. I can feel you sucking it, feel your tongue licking it and me just wanting to cum. Somehow I manage to restrain myself. Your mouth closes tightly over it, draws it into you and I begin to gasp. You take me deep into your mouth until I am certain my knob is forcing its way down your throat and I want to cum.

I begin to tremble, feel my muscles cramping as the pressure builds up to a climax. You eyes look up at me; one hand supports my balls, gently massaging them, squeezing them with all the tenderness a woman’s hand can muster, the other hand pushes down on my stomach which acts like a release valve. With all the violence of a storm at sea, my semen shoots from my body and into your mouth. It cums in staccato rhythm, my body shudders and I know I am emptied.

You, dear Ella, pull back and your mouth leaks the mass of lumpy cum you have taken. You look at me, your eyes in a far away state of emotion, then you reach up, pull my head towards you and our lips meet. You deposit my semen in my mouth and somehow I swallow some of what I have just ejected.

I feel sexually exhausted and lay back on the sofa. I know I have finished, but we haven’t even started on you yet. Ella my love, it is time for me to return the compliment.

You sit beside me, and look into my eyes. There is excitement in them now, and I feel that I must advance like a good lover should. You hold my hand back and simply say, ‘Vic, I am not what you think I am. Please don’t be angry.’

I can tell this is a monumental moment for you but cannot fathom out why. I hardly think you will be a virgin after the blow job you just performed on me, so, what is your apparent secret?

You place my hand on your knee and I feel the sheer softness of the nylon, slowly I run my hand up to the hem of your dress. Momentarily you stop me from going further. Look at me, kiss me, and then allow my hand free access to your hem line and beyond.

I move under your dress to the top of your stockings. I feel the suspenders that hold them up, the softness of your inner thigh, and... I draw my hand away and recoil. ‘What?’ I ask amazed. ‘What is that?’

‘Are you angry with me? Please don’t be. I told you I am not what you think.’

I breathe deeply, not knowing quite what to do. You kiss me. Push that delicate tongue into my mouth. I know what I should do.

You explain you are neither homosexual nor transsexual, but a cross dresser. You love the feel of ladies clothes on your skin, especially the lace and silk underwear. It makes you feel sexy. The thought of both men and women folk seeing you dressed this way turns you on, and, I agree, it turns me on also.

I push your dress up to reveal your white thighs, your suspenders, and your sheer black panties. And there it is, constrained by the silken material, something reminiscent of my own. A boner if ever there was one. I have to hesitate before I do anything else. I ask myself what am I doing? Then I look at you, at the woman I thought you were, of your beauty, of the passion you showed making me climax. And I know I still want you.

I see your worried eyes but smile and slip my hand along the silken fabric, fingers tracing round your penis. I pull the waist band down a little way and your penis forces its way up and out. It is every bit as wide a girth as mine, but lengthwise it is more than an inch longer.

My fumbling fingers unclip your nylons which you roll down and off your pretty legs. I pull your panties down to your knees. Your penis stands rigid. We both gasp as I wrap my hand round it; the first time I have felt someone else’s cock since school days. It feels very similar to my own of course. Not unpleasant. It is very stimulating.

You want to keep your clothes on and I have no objection to that. I just want to pleasure you as much as I can. You want me to begin stroking you, so I pull your foreskin back as far as it will go and admire the shape, colour and texture of its naked head. It is so lovely.

From experience I know just holding the foreskin taut gives extreme pleasure and excitement. You move your hips, your legs tense up trying to make my hand move. I look into your eyes then draw my lips to yours. Still keeping your knob exposed I kiss you. Your stiffness is rock solid. You thrust an arm round my neck and pull me close to you.

You smell so lovely wearing all that sweet perfume and body mist. I draw away and begin to slowly move up and down your length, one hand holding it upright as if balancing your tool, my other hand just moving so slowly, up and down, first just the length of the shaft, then as your urgency increases and I hear you murmur that you want me to work you faster, much faster, I smile, taunt you for a few strokes and then begin the final part of our lovemaking. Faster and faster I go, I hear you panting for breathe, gasping as the height of ecstasy approaches.

Your body tenses, my hand stops, my thumb moving slowly underneath your glans, increasing your sensation. Three more fast strokes and then back to slowly encircling your knob.

Your stomach seems to contract inwards, your buttocks clamp together as your body reaches the ultimate point and you scream, yes scream, as your juice first leaks out of your tip and then spurts all over my chest.

I smell your bodily odour and I like it. I keep stroking until every drop is drained from you. I go down on you now, kissing your ebbing weapon, licking its shrinking shaft until I reach your knob. I take it into my mouth, taste the dregs of your semen and then go up to kiss you again, to allow you to taste what is left of your own love potion.

We are done. You clean yourself, then me too. I pull my garments on and you straighten your dress, pull your silk knickers up again. We kiss rather passionately, and you promise to meet me deep in the forest tomorrow.