Chapter 8

Natalie Jenkins leaned over the back of the chair and smiled. She recognized the handwriting on the letter Mark was reading -- it was the handwriting of his old college buddy, Stuart Brooks. "What's he got to say this time, dear?" she asked playfully.

"Listen to this, Nat," Mark began, reading from the letter. "He's going to open the Camp for winter sports during Christmas vacation, and he wants to know if we'd like to come up and be teachers and counselors again. What do you think?"

The dark-haired math teacher looked away thoughtfully. "What kind of winter sports, Mark? There are too many trees around there for skiing."

"Oh, I imagine Stu could think of some indoor sports -- especially with you around," the friendly-faced husband grinned. "Really, Nat, we ought to go up and help him out... Remember how well those kids did on their psychological development tests, after you gave them that photography lesson..." He winked exaggeratedly and the dark-haired young woman laughed aloud.

"Let's look at those pictures, Mark," she purred suggestively. They'd poured over the lewd color prints many, many times since they returned from Weatherly-Brooks Summer Camp for Boys. At first, Natalie had thought she would be repulsed or offended by the obscene, compromising shots of herself, but after she had gone over them all with her loving husband at her side, she had to admit that she became definitely aroused by them.

Mark nodded his agreement and went into the bedroom where he kept the photos handy in the top drawer of his dresser. They were in a well-worn folder, and several of the prints were caked with sticky dried cum, from the times they had fucked during one of their reminiscing sessions.

Natalie eagerly slid in beside her husband in the big armchair, pulling the lamp over closer so they could see the pictures clearly. She squirmed excitedly as he opened the sheaf of perhaps fifty photographs, and her pupils dilated as she saw the first shot come into view. It was one of the first roll, taken in the Camp Director's office, and she was leaning back on the desktop with her legs arched up on either side of her sunlit pussy. She leaned down to study the glistening pink folds of hair-framed flesh, wondering that such a tiny slit could expand so much as to accept a huge blood-engorged cock.

"God, your cunt's tight, Nat," Mark said thoughtfully, looking hard at the suggestive pose in the picture. He hastily flipped through the rest of the office shots until he came to the series taken up on the hillside, the pictures of his wife being fucked every which way by six lustful adolescent boys.