Birding: A Cautionary Tale

I could feel the rough bark of the tree trunk on my bare back and ass, and as long as I didn't move, it wasn't too uncomfortable. My hands were tied with rope, stretched a little too tightly up and over my head and secured to a tree branch above me.

I was on my knees, which were starting to complain, as well as my ankles, tied back around the tree. I felt a bit like an insect with his back stuck on some flypaper, only held immobile with ropes. A bandana covered my eyes so I couldn't even see what was going on.

My cock was aching and stiff, pointing out straight ahead, and I considered the circumstances that got me here. If I had told anyone at work what had happened during this strange, out-of-control weekend, no one would have believed me, or at least they would have laughed hard enough that I wouldn't have dared mention the story anyway.

I could hear my tormentors just a few feet away, chatting, giggling and having a leisurely picnic, and making occasional comments about my prick's stiffness, and what might next be in store for it.

I had not been looking forward to this weekend, yet had made a promise to my wife out of obligation. Nowhere would I have foreseen how events would go, however. If Carol had known, she wouldn't have agreed either, but that's a different matter. The whole situation was just plain bizarre.

Months earlier Carol had arranged for her college pals, Kira and Tess, to join her and her best college buddy Millie, who lived just the town over from us here in the foothills of the Smokies, to come out for a bird-watching weekend. This was a relatively new interest for Carol, and I guess one of those signs that we were solidly and unmistakably middle-aged. At least it seemed that way to me. College some twenty years in the rear view mirror for us, our boy Andrew himself ready to head off to university next fall, and away for the summer for the first time in his life with a job down on the coast.

The house had been unnaturally quiet and the phrase "empty nesters" was leering us in the face. Beginning last autumn, at the start of Andrew's senior year, Carol had picked up some birding equipment, a nice set of binoculars and a bushel of guidebooks, and had been scouting around our region and getting good at bird identifications.

To me it seemed like she was looking ahead, something wives always seem to do better than husbands, to find a hobby or activity to keep her occupied for the future when Andrew was no longer around. He'd been our life for almost twenty years. I humored her some, and would go along on some of her walks, but frankly, I couldn't care much about the whole deal. Birds can be handsome enough, they fly and make nests, and crap where you don't want them to, but their plumage and habits just didn't do much for me personally.

Anyway, the girls were coming out, in theory to share in Carol's new interest but more just to do a college reconnect, but Carol's aging mother this last week had came down with appendicitis, got the damn thing removed, and Carol went back home to Tennessee to take care of her for the week.

Everything was straightforward, no complications, but Carol felt the need to help and didn't want her mom alone. I tried to get her to reschedule the girls' visit, but it was going to be too complicated, too expensive to cancel plane flights, etc.

And while Kira and Tess, having flown in from out of town, had thankfully decided to stay with Millie instead of our place, Carol had still insisted that I lead the bird expedition up at North Lake she had planned for today, since I knew the terrain and we had a van big enough to haul us and our gear around.

And she reminded me of all the times she had put up my old college drinking buddies, fed them, and catered to them over the years. It was My Turn. Right. Phooey. But at least with my buds I was always around to talk and play host, even if she handled the infrastructure. For this one I was going to be doing everything.

So here I was, on a Saturday midday in June, leading a troop of early forty-something year old women around Clear Lake looking for loons, flycatchers and who knew what else. We had started along the main trail around the lake, but halfway around had to loop back since the rains had made the going fairly impassable around the swampy south edge of the lake, and the trail was impossibly muddy.

It was hot and buggy even in the shade, and I don't think I was the only one annoyed that we had to retrace our tracks. At least the breeze coming off the lake felt good.

We were headed back up the main knoll overlooking the lake, me in the lead with Tess, short, red-haired and the trimmest of them all, although that wasn't saying much, myself included. Any one of us could have lost 15 pounds without any trouble, or more.

Millie was just plain wide, her body took up a lot of real estate, although she was such a perpetually cheerful soul you never really thought of her as overweight. Her moon face had two dimples when she smiled, which was often, and she had kept her dark hair long. Kira, the Jewish one from New York with the brown flashing eyes, was round too, but smaller, with a short waist, broad hips and a healthy chest. I was in decent enough shape, although I wished my gut was smaller.

The three of them wanted to take the side trail down to the shore just before the knoll, to see some of the waterbirds, but I wasn't so keen on that.

In fact, our couple hours tramping about hadn't exactly been super comfortable, and I had pretty much exhausted my limited reserve of small talk by then, and wasn't able to either keep up with or take an interest in the other topics that seemed to occupy front stage for the old college companions.

Carol and I had met after college, so I didn't know the crew from then, only afterwards as favored old friends of my wife, although of course I had gotten to know Millie fairly well as a local family friend too. All told, I still felt awkward and a bit out of place in their conversations without Carol around.

So I begged off at the trail juncture, and indicated I would go up higher on the knoll to look for hawks, and catch up to them at the trail-head back by the car in half an hour or so. They were fine with that, maybe even a bit relieved since it gave all of us a little separation, and they might talk more freely without me around.

I didn't get the impression that they felt I was abandoning them. Besides, I had spotted another sight on the lake I wanted to investigate further alone.

I made my way uphill along the trail, and at a decent vantage point turned my binoculars towards Seward's Point, where several vacation houses had cropped up in recent years. There were a couple college-aged kids on a boat, moored in one of the smaller coves, who had drawn my eye.

Their dingy had the requisite cooler and party supplies. But sure enough, when I swung my binoculars their way, I verified what I thought I had seen. The gal had removed her tee shirt and was topless, sitting in the bow of the boat, soaking up the sun.

They obviously couldn't imagine that anyone would be seeing them. She had nice succulent boobs, and for once I was glad I had along the birding binoculars that had weighed me down the earlier part of the morning on our silly jaunt.

For a better view, and to be a little less conspicuous with some leafy camouflage around me, I climbed a decent sized nearby tree, perching myself on a large branch about fifteen feet up, and swiveled the high magnification Leica towards the amorous youngsters. Hot damn.

She had dark hair, as did he, and they made a handsome enough couple. She had thrown her head back, laughing at something he said, and her pointy softball sized breasts jiggled with her laughter. My crotch tightened as I watched them.

After a few minutes of conversation, my lenses intently trained on her lovely chest, she leaned over to give him a kiss. Naturally, he couldn't resist feeling her up while her tits were right in front of him, and he kneaded them in a way that made my mouth water.

Before long things got serious. Sitting on the rower's bench of the boat, he had allowed her to pull his trunks off, and she now knelt in front of him, between his legs, taking his prick in her mouth. I couldn't see the action as well as I would have liked, but her head moving up and down on his crotch was clear enough, her soft tits bobbing up and down enticingly as she worked him over.

I stood up on my branch, running my hand down to my own crotch, reveling in the delightful tingling and stiffening taking place there. Feeling a bit adventurous, I pulled off my shorts, and carefully stashed them and my boxers at the junction where the tree branch joined the main trunk. Binoculars back in sighting position, I braced myself against the tree trunk, one hand on my prick, while the other aimed the Leica carefully on the couple.

A couple of minutes of increasingly heated activity on the boat had me pretty excited myself. With all the commotion at home with Carol and her mom's news and so forth, we hadn't made love in a couple weeks, and my balls were boiling away with a good supply of semen. My prick was hard, and its head tingling to my touch. And it is just such a turn-on to have an erection out of doors anyway.

I was slowly running my fingers over my excited glans, while I watched the wench continue to tongue the new admiral out in the cove, when I heard a sound from below and looked down with alarm as Tess stood at the base of the tree, looking up at me. Her dark glasses kept me from seeing her eyes, but her mouth was open, and then slowly formed its way into a smile.

"This part of your normal birdwatching routine?" she asked, eyebrows arching.

"Ah, no..." I stammered, quickly letting go of my cock with my hand, a sudden sinking feeling starting to settle in. "Weren't you guys going to be down at the lake edge?" I asked, stalling for time and trying to say anything tangential to the situation. Just what sort of snappy reply was I going to be able to offer up?

Announcing the target of my viewing would at least have provided some reason for my condition, but then again, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. It turned out it didn't matter, since Tess had turned her head in the direction my binoculars had been directed, and even without lens aid she figured out the scene.

She turned back, smiling even more broadly at me. "Nothing like a good set of 10 power magnification lenses, huh?"

She paused. "The others went back to the car, and I just thought I would let you know we were ready to go."

She laughed suddenly and I knew my face was turning red.

I turned to pick up my shorts, and between my jangled nerves and the extra care I took trying to keep my balance on the tree, I managed to knock them off from their perch and they fell to the ground next to the tree root. Jesus Christ, I was going to have to come down without my shorts on, engorged cock bobbing around out in front of one of Carol's old college roommates.

I don't think I could have designed a more embarrassing situation. Well, maybe if Carol had been there to witness it, that would have been worse. And I wasn't even going to be able to view the messy, satisfying finale from the happy boat couple, either. I hadn't determined yet whether I would see him come in her mouth or maybe they would fuck merrily in the boat.

Tess watched me clamber down, a little more intently than I might have wished. My cock was hard enough that it waved or bobbed with each movement I made, and I had to take some trouble to make sure I didn't accidentally bang it into the tree on the way down. She'd picked up my shorts, and when I got to the bottom, I extended my hand and said "thanks," intending to take them.

But she didn't give them to me.

Her eyes, near as I could tell behind her dark glasses, were focused on my groin.

"Sorry," she finally went, "haven't seen an erect penis in some time. Since Harold and I split, that is."

This took me by surprise, since they had divorced a couple years ago. I had never liked him much anyway, but they had been married over ten years. "You haven't dated anyone? Or done anything?"

"Nope," she said, "I felt fine to be done with all that and haven't had any interest. But you remind me how handsome a penis can be."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a little better. Tell a guy he has a nice looking cock, even if you are lying, and you can get away with all kinds of stuff. I never knew why more women didn't know this.

"Now if I can just get my clothes back on we can catch up with the others."

She smiled, and took a step back, holding my shorts behind her.

"Maybe not straight away," she said, eyes still on my crotch, "I'm not sure when I'll next get a good look."

I stepped forward, a little annoyed now.

"Come on Tess, you've caught me, I think the saying goes, with my pants down. Fair enough, but let's just get on with it."

"Maybe," she kept smiling. "Maybe. Come here a second," she had backed up against the tree trunk.

I started to reach around behind her to grab my shorts, but before I could, she reached for my prick, and gave it a nice little tug.

"Hey, wait a sec..." I started, but she slid her hand up and down on my shaft, slowly, gently, insistently. The smile had never left her face.

"So smooth," she went, "so nice to feel. Like ivory." Her fingers were doing lovely things to my prickshaft and head.

Now I was certainly stronger than her and fast enough to seize my shorts back, and that thought occurred to me, but it would have meant a struggle, and I wasn't sure that was going to be the best thing in the circumstances.

"Look, Tess, I don't think Carol would appreciate this. Not a very bright move on my part, but let's just let this whole thing go here."

She was looking me square in the face now, her hand still moving up and down my prick, in a way that despite my embarrassment actually felt pretty nice.

"Yes, yes," she went, "just a moment. I haven't had a poke in ages. I know I won't climax, if for no other reason than I bet your pent up-sperm isn't going to hold up but for a few minutes, but it still would feel nice. It's been awhile," she went, almost wistfully.

I was about to protest again, but she silenced me.

"No one will know, Brian, just the two of us. I don't even think Carol would mind as much as you might think," although I had no idea what that last phrase meant.

Before I could do anything else, she had dropped to her knees and had my prick in her mouth.

Oh jeez, I thought, as I watched her take my cockhead down, her tongue doing delectable little movements along my glans and shaft. The odd thought that popped into my brain then was that from here on out, I would never be able to listen to her or watch her talk again without remembering that her lips had once been around the head of my penis.

Her eyes were closed, her attention completely on my cock. She held my balls in one hand, kneading them, while her mouth did sweet things to my prick. She was clearly totally enjoying the experience.

After a couple minutes she stood back up and pulled her shorts off. She leaned back against the tree and pulled my prick towards her, guiding it up to her crotch. She rubbed my prickhead against her notch, up and down, til I could feel her dampness. Her pubic hair was thick and a light-reddish color, and I could feel it tickle my groin as she guided me in. At this point I still could've backed out, and should have. But I didn't.

She spread her legs a little further apart and I found myself sliding into her. The angle wasn't super, and at first I was conscious of not wanting to push her bare ass too forcefully into the tree. But a couple minutes of gentle thrusting, and I found I could no longer hold back. She was remarkably well lubricated, given her short arousal time, and she was holding my ass in a firm grip with her hands.

We kissed and my hips starting humping hot and heavy. I no longer felt concern about her backside and the tree trunk and whether the pressure bothered her or not, but was just thrusting, thrusting, thrusting. My balls contracted, our tongues entwined, and I felt the first of several semen-propelling squeezes. I was grunting, my ass contracting, the semen coming up strongly into her. Each of her hands was holding my asscheeks, spreading them wide, and she was pulling my pelvis into her.

And then all was still. My mouth on her neck, I felt her hands relax on my ass a little, my own prick now in that near-death state that a climax brings, still tingling but wiped out, I mean beat.

We kissed for a minute or so, and I stepped back, my prick slobbery wet and shrinking as it slipped out of her. A little drop of sperm lingered at the tip, which Tess stooped over to lick off, giving my prickhead a last little, thankfully gentle, clean up. Her tongue, while soft and wet, still gave me an almost uncomfortable set of sensations. She gave me a look and a smile I could not quite interpret. Naughty? Lascivious? Triumphant?

I was completely disoriented. My cock had just been up my wife's old college friend. Everything had happened so quickly I couldn't make sense of the thoughts jostling together in my head.

She smiled again and handed over my shorts, and we pulled on our clothes in silence. Her rump was red from being mashed into the tree, and the bark had left uneven impressions on her skin. It was stronger looking than I might have thought, not all soft and droopy from middle age, but firm and round. She had to be a runner or play tennis or something. I wished now that I had had my hands around her asscheeks while humping her.

We walked back to the trail, neither of us saying a word. She was smiling when we caught up to the others though, easing into chatter with them like, well, we had just been on a bird walk.

My groin was a bit confused though. It had felt good to be up a cunt, however unexpectedly, and I had certainly expended my load with enthusiasm. It wasn't quite the blue-balls effect, though similar, maybe because of the quickness of it all. My testicles were sore, restless, unhappy. It was the damnedest feeling.

We piled into the van and I drove us to Millie's. We had drinks and an early dinner and I begged off staying later, saying I was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise man, and wanted a good rest before our trip tomorrow. We were going to be heading out up into the mountains to one of Carol's favored bird spots, and I made excuses about gathering up our picnic supplies and gear so as to be ready in the morning. I really didn't want to spend the rest of the evening with them, but I wonder now that if I had stayed longer that perhaps the next day wouldn't then have had a chance to develop as it did.

Sunday morning I picked them up, Kira in a yellow patterned sleeveless sundress, who surprised me with the sight of dark unshaven underarms, some brown curly hair flashing when she helped in loading the van. Guess I had never seen her in anything sleeveless before. Very old-school and vaguely exotic.

Tess and Millie were in loose shorts and tee-shirts, everyone with decent hiking shoes and various levels of aesthetics in sunhats, actually mostly pretty dopey looking. We made for an unremarkable, middle-aged foursome.

We drove up into the mountains about half an hour, and turned off on Old River Road. After ten miles we came to the pullout near the trail-head, gathered our supplies and headed up the dirt pathway.

Carol had discovered in her bird wanderings a really quite deserted mountain meadow off the trail that was a perfect setting for a pile of things. The boundary of field and forest made for good wildlife sightings, and the meadow itself was a good spot for a picnic. We had never seen another soul on our trips up there. The isolation was complete enough that I could sometimes get Carol to go topless while we had lunch, an uncharacteristic bit of daring for her. It was not quite a mile up from the road, maybe a twenty minute walk.