"A husband_s hobby" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jensen Peter)

CHAPTER THREE

Stuart Brooks was a handsome bachelor of thirty-two. He was two years older than Natalie's husband Mark, but he had known the younger man briefly in college. They had been bunkmates on a month long archaeological dig in Arizona. The Camp Director remembered Jenkins as a rather serious university sophomore who had taken the trouble to transplant nearly forty ocotillo shrubs that the students and their professors had dug up during the expedition.

Brooks himself had received his degree that same year, and after that, he had had little contact with his former classmate. He had almost immediately begun working on the project of helping urban adolescents, although he had little money of his own with which to finance any of his projects.

An enterprising, charming young man, Stuart Brooks had managed to woo the widow of a wealthy financier, Sybil Weatherly, into practically giving him the money for the camp project he wanted to start up by Lake Devonshire. She agreed to finance the land purchase and the construction program with only a negligible interest charge to Stuart, a charge which her accountant and lawyers had insisted upon. In appreciation, Stuart had named the camp after her, adding his own name with a hyphen to symbolize his undying indebtedness to her.

The fifty-ish widow was, in her words, "Pleased as punch" with the arrangements her young partner made for the camp. She had demanded to be driven up there when the first session opened ten years ago, serving twenty five underprivileged boys from the city almost entirely at her expense. The six week program was highly successful, and the following year, Stuart had been able to negotiate government grants to expand the camp's operations.

Mrs. Weatherly's health had declined steadily over the next eight years, but the energetic Camp Director kept up his frequent visits to her and brought her numerous gifts of candy or flowers. He became such a well known figure in Mrs. Weatherly's upper class neighborhood that the rumor spread that young Brooks was the widow's private gigolo. When her son heard about her apparent indiscretions, he completely renounced his relationship with her, declaring that no mother of his would cavort around with some young social climber.

Sybil didn't even bother to explain to her son that Stuart Brooks was no social climber, but she quietly disowned him and replaced him in her will. When the wealthy widow died two years ago, Stuart could hardly believe the extent of his good fortune. Not only had she left him enough stocks and property to be independent for life, but she had also deeded the Lake Devonshire property to the county with the stipulation that the Summer Camp for Boys was solely at the disposal of Stuart Brooks.

Since then, the camp's operations had expanded tenfold. Instead of twenty-five boys for six weeks, they were now able to handle a hundred boys for three different sessions throughout the summer, a total of three hundred boys. More cabins and recreation facilities were being built all the time, and Brooks envisioned that in three years, Weatherly-Brooks Summer Camp for Boys would be able to accept five hundred boys for each six week camping session.

Already the camp was providing academic instruction as well as the traditional outdoor activities that most summer camps had. There were counseling and social programs as well, to give specific help to the often immature or insecure young boys who would be entering high school in the fall. Boys who had been through Stuart Brooks' camp showed a remarkable improvement in maturity and confidence as a result of their camp experiences, and the Camp Director was anxious to see that trend continue.

That was why he had decided, after Mrs. Weatherly's death, to hire women as camp staff members. When the old widow had been alive, Stuart had thought it prudent to limit his teachers and counselors to men, to insure that his benefactor wouldn't be offended or even possibly envious. But two years ago, he had hired Arlene Thatcher as a cook, feeling that the large, buxom nutritional expert couldn't possibly be seen as a threat to Sybil Weatherly's memory.

Last year, a marine biology expert had joined the staff on the condition that he be allowed to bring his wife with him. That was Lucille Wells, and she stayed out of sight so much that she might as well have lived elsewhere. The only time she came out of her trailer was to teach a leather-working class, and she only did it to keep from being bored.

It was a bit of a shame, too, Brooks reflected. Her husband was busy throughout the day with his counseling and guidance duties. Lucille was petite, blonde, and voluptuously proportioned – she definitely had the kind of possibility that Arlene Thatcher lacked.

But this summer Stuart had Natalie Jenkins to think about. He remembered when his old classmate Mark had contacted him in town a couple weeks after Easter. He'd always thought Mark was the kind of guy to plug his way through school, at a slow, thorough pace, emerging with a post-graduate degree of some kind. Then he'd end up in some kind of laboratory experimenting with some kind of plasmic substances while he lived in a darkened basement below the lab.

On the phone, however, Mark had said that he was a high school teacher and that he was married! Shit! Stuart had reflected. Old Jenkins the bookworm got married and I'm still a bachelor… Christ! But of course Mark Jenkins wouldn't have married the kind of woman Stuart appreciated anyway. Jenkins was the type to pick out some mousy librarian whose idea of a risque subject was the sex life of an amoeba.

That was why Stuart had been slightly taken aback when he had actually met his old college buddy's wife. Jesus Fucking Christ! he'd remarked mentally. Old Jenkins really got himself a fox! Natalie was as voluptuous as any centerfold model Stuart had ever seen, and she seemed to be successful in her teaching, too. Her shoulder length black hair framed her face in a mass of big, billowing curls, accenting the almost blue shine that reflected off it. Her eyes were absolutely gigantic, shadowed by her long black lashes, and her lovely ivory skin was flawless. She didn't look a day over eighteen, the way her proud tits jutted forward like a couple of firm melons, ripe and ready for some hungry man to taste. She was tall and slender, her perfect proportions overshadowed only by the incredible firm length of her legs, and Stuart had wondered why she became a teacher instead of a dancer.

Natalie uncomfortably skirted the Camp Director's leading question at the time, stammering a weak reply to the effect that if she'd become a dancer she'd have never met her husband. To herself she had admitted that at this point, it wouldn't have made a whole lot of difference if she hadn't met Mark, but in her heart she knew she loved him deeply and really wanted to make her marriage to him work.

Now, as she hurried across the clearing to the Camp Office, Natalie thought about that first conversation she had had with her husband's college friend. She'd been aware, at the time, of the older man's appraising stares, and she sensed immediately his instinctive approval. But this kind of male approval was something the beautiful raven-haired teacher was used to by now, and it worried her. It was the same kind of frank admiration she enjoyed in the eyes of her young male students, and it was the kind of admiration that could lead to embarrassing problems.

Oh, God! she groaned. I've only been here two days, and it already had happened! I've already ruined Mark's and my chances here! If only she had heeded her conscience's warnings about taking a job in an all-male summer camp – especially one in which nearly all the males were thirteen and fourteen year old boys! Dear God! What can I ever do about it?

She heard a flurry of youthful snickers and guffaws, seeming to follow her across the clearing. She felt like turning around and heading back towards the staff cabin instead of talking to Stuart Brooks, but she knew she couldn't look the young gigglers in the face. Logically she knew that they were responding to her just the way every other healthy male youth responded to her, but it didn't help ease the embarrassment. All the beautiful young teacher could do was walk fast, and hope that nothing happened as she approached the Camp Office.

The Camp Director looked out the open window in his office just in time to see a flustered-looking Natalie Jenkins running lightly toward his door. Behind her, he saw the vague huddle of young male forms and heard their barely suppressed laughter as their eyes followed the black-haired beauty across the clearing. Stuart couldn't avoid smiling himself as he remembered how he'd have reacted to gorgeous Mrs. Jenkins' twitching ass when he was a teenager. And he grinned outright when he thought how he'd like to respond now.

"Come in, come in, Natalie," he said grandly as she stepped into the tiny office. Stuart Brooks' desk nearly filled the entire room it was so large, and the young teacher felt as if she was wedged in between the edge of the desk top and the wall. "Sit down," the older man offered, indicating a folding chair behind the door.

Natalie twisted around to reach the chair, but when it was folded out she found that she had to sit sideways or cross her legs out the office door. She smiled nervously, realizing that the Camp Director was fully aware of her discomfort and even possibly enjoying it.

"I guess that's the penalty for having such nice long legs," he grinned, his gray eyes twinkling suggestively.

Natalie blushed and tried to ignore his remark. Was he trying to hint at something? Could he possibly know already about what had happened with Jason Powell only a couple hours ago? God, it was too horrible to contemplate! He could fire her right now, if he wanted to… and then what would happen to her marriage to Mark?

The pretty young woman was so confused by her own whirling thoughts that she didn't even hear Stuart's question until he had repeated it a second time.

"What was it you wanted to see me about, Natalie?"

"Oh…! Excuse me… the… uh… I had some class plans that I wanted to ask about… It's just a suggestion, but… well…" She opened up one of the file folders she had brought with her from the staff cabin. She took out a sheaf of writing assignments that she had given to her students this morning and held them out for him to look at.

Stuart gave the papers a cursory glance and then looked back at the gorgeous young wife of his old college buddy. Holy shit… to think Mark Jenkins could have married this fantastic chick!

Natalie could tell that the older man's mind wasn't on her assignments, but she couldn't allow herself to wonder what he was actually thinking about. She'd gotten herself into enough trouble for one day, and she had a whole summer ahead of her. She adopted a business-like expression and pointed to one of the boys' papers.

"Well Stuart," she began with a deep breath, "as you can see the students are all on different levels. I know they've been grouped alphabetically, and I'm not trying to suggest that you change the classes or anything, but I think it would be helpful if we taught them on an individualized basis…" The teacher paused, waiting for some kind of response from the older man.

Stuart smiled with feigned attentiveness, but he let his eyes rove down over the full heaving mounds of her breasts, protruding lushly under the stiff camp blouse she wore. Shit, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a pair of jugs like Natalie Jenkins'. And to think they were being wasted on old Mark! Too late, the Camp Director replied, "Hmmmm, you mean work at their own speed?"

Natalie nodded confusedly. She felt self-conscious, but she didn't know if it was her own private guilt or something that Stuart was deliberately doing to make her uncomfortable.

"You see, Stuart, I feel it's the best way I can deal with all the different levels in the class. I only have each class for a week, and it's really impossible to try to bring the slower boys up to the same level as the smarter ones in that short a time… Honestly, if they each worked on separate progressive assignments they'd all learn more… and be better prepared for high school."

The teacher's voice trailed off as she saw that Stuart was indeed ignoring what she was saying. His eyes were firmly fixed on the front of her blouse now, where she could feel her nipples stiffening inexplicably under her brassiere. She wasn't getting aroused, surely! It was only her fearful nervousness that was causing those sensitive little tips of her softly mounding breasts to pressure against the confines of her bra. For the second time, the dark-haired teacher's ivory skin flushed pink as she turned her face away in embarrassment.

"Yes… go on," Stuart prompted, not raising his eyes from her voluptuous breasts. "You want to try this experimental plan… is that it?"

"It's not exactly experimental… it's been tried and proven in the last ten years… Now you have been keeping up with educational methods, haven't you?" She looked him squarely in the eyes, in an attempt to regain some of her composure.

"Yeah… sure," the older man replied vaguely. "But I want to give all the kids a fair chance… and individual assignments aren't fair to everybody… Some boys won't learn anything, and some will do all the work… What have you got in mind anyway, Natalie?"

The young teacher was grateful to have the opportunity to talk about something more concrete. She took out the notepapers in the other folder and offered them across the desk. "It's just a progressive series of assignments… Some boys might finish this set in a day, and others might take a week, but at least they'll all learn something…" She looked up expectantly, and nearly sighed aloud when she now that Stuart's eyes were again feasting on her insufficiently disguised curves. "Mr. Brooks," she began formally, in near-exasperation, "am I doing something wrong?"

It was the Camp Director's turn to be startled, but his initial surprise at Mark's wife's spirited question was quickly replaced by a half-smile of amusement. He liked a lady with guts, and he suddenly had the urge to find out just how gutsy this brunette chick was. Hell, old Jenkins wouldn't mind… weren't they old college buddies? A licentious gleam crept into the older man's eyes as he almost imperceptibly shoved his chair back from the over-sized desk.

"No, Natalie," he said evenly, the salacious smile still playing on his lips, "you're not doing anything wrong… yet. But I sure would like to do something wrong with you!"

The intent of the handsome bachelor's remark was unmistakable, and the young wife suddenly froze to her chair. She didn't move when Stuart slowly stepped around the desk and came over to close the door to the office. His hairy bare leg brushed suggestively against her smooth, slender thigh as he secured the lock and turned back to look down at the trembling young teacher.

"Now, isn't it better to have that hot sun blocked out? The glare was so bright I couldn't even see these papers you brought me." But even though he was talking in a normal tone of voice about a normal subject, the Camp Director didn't go back to his seat. His body was leaning uncomfortably over Natalie's seated form, and she instinctively inclined away from his hovering body.

"Yes, it… it was rather… warm… Stuart…" she stammered. "I think that I'll just… go on back to the cabin. You can keep those folders and… and see what you th-think of my idea." Her voice was quavering so badly at the end of her statement that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to say anything else, and she had to get out of that office quick!

She tried to stand up from the folding chair, but her shoulder collided squarely with the older man's chest, and she felt his hand at her elbow.

"Oh, not so fast, Natalie," he admonished, "I was enjoying our little talk. I'm sure you can understand… In my work here, I rarely get the chance to talk at any length with women – especially as nice looking as you."

"Thank you, Stuart," Natalie replied hurriedly as she tried again to stand-up. "But I have some papers to grade."

"After only two days, Natalie? I may not be a teacher, but I know you don't get assignments to correct after only two days!" The Camp Director leaned against the edge of the desk and positioned his legs on either side of the young woman's demurely crossed thighs.

Oh, Lord this can't be happening, the curvaceous teacher said to herself. I'm only imagining that he's… he-s m-making a pass at me… aren't I? She looked up curiously into the light-brown-haired man's still-smiling face. His eyes were fixed firmly on the barely-concealed vee up between her crossed legs, as though his gaze was burning right into and through her thin nylon panties. God no! she protested inwardly.

"Ah, yes… this is much better," the Camp Director said with smug satisfaction. "You know, old Mark is quite a lucky guy to be married to such a… a liberal woman as you are."

"Liberal?" Natalie repeated confusedly. What did he mean by that?

"Certainly," Stuart confirmed. "I mean, you go in for all the new, liberal education ideas… and you like to let everybody do their own thing…" He glanced down at her and pressured inward with his powerful legs so that his inner thighs squeezed into her bare satiny skin. "I suppose your – uh – personal life is just as progressive as your teaching…"

This last observation sounded like a question, and Natalie wasn't sure how to answer it. The Camp Director was obviously hinting broadly at her most private sexual habits, but she couldn't believe her ears. This man was supposed to be a friend of her husband's! How could be seriously considering… God! She couldn't even complete the thought.

Desperately she glanced around the tiny little office, groping for some clue as to what she should do. But there was nothing, no picture on which she could comment, not even a clock so she could pretend to be late for something. She wanted sincerely to say something blunt and unmistakable, that would put an end to the older man's salacious insinuations, but she knew she couldn't jeopardize her job. She had come here specifically to see if the change of environment might do something to help her and Mark's relationship, and already she had made one potentially dangerous mistake. She just couldn't compound her error. All she could do was just sit Stuart out, and hope that he didn't have the audacity to do what he seemed to be hinting at.

But Natalie Jenkins wasn't aware of the Camp Director's past, and she didn't have any idea how he had managed to finance his whole camp project. Had she known, she would have realized that anything Stuart Brooks wanted, Stuart Brooks got, by whatever methods were required. And right now, Stuart Brooks wanted to know a lot more about his college friend's wife… a lot more than she imagined.

The older man finally raised his eyes from the teacher's trembling form and glanced toward the window with a faraway look. "Yeah," he said almost absentmindedly, "I can tell you're one of those hot and hearty types… You remind me of a woman I knew – I hope I'm not offending you – who used to get off on two-three guys at a time…"

Natalie gasped at the man's boldness, unable to say anything to stop his suggestive comments. She winced inwardly as he continued, apparently unaware of her discomfort.

"Yeah, that Lollie was quite some chick, Natalie… and she was a lot like you, married and all, but a real swinger. Do you and old Mark swing, Natalie?"

Oh, God! Oh God! the black-haired teacher groaned to herself. What on earth can I say? I've go to get out of here! Abruptly she rose from her chair, pushing Stuart's legs away from her own as she shook free of his subtle grip on her thighs. "No, we don't swing," she lied hotly, embarrassed by the idea that just this afternoon she had succumbed to what might be considered swinging in the Camp Director's eyes.

Undaunted by the woman's sudden movements, Stuart moved away from her chair and reached into a small medicine cabinet on the wall. "Can I fix you a drink?" he asked smoothly, as if he didn't know she was preparing to leave. "I'd like you to stay awhile… at least until the dinner call… We can have a nice cocktail together. It's cocktail hour, now, isn't it?"

He seemed amused by his own observation, and without waiting for Natalie to reply, he poured her a vodka-seven using a mixer from the ice chest behind his desk. The voluptuous, scantily-clad young teacher was caught off balance by the Camp Director's incongruous offer of a drink, and she accepted it almost without realizing what she was doing. A soothing drink was just what she needed right now, even if it was supposed to be contrary to camp policy. She smiled out of the corner of her eyes at the man who dictated the camp policy, letting him know that she was aware of his double standard.

"This is purely therapeutic, my dear," he grinned. "I can see you're tense, and I don't want any tense teachers in my summer camp."

At this, Natalie had to smile outright, and as she sipped the drink a little faster than she was used to, she began to feel noticeably more relaxed. Slowly, Stuart's insinuations and provocations didn't seem so odious anymore, and eventually, Natalie found herself laughing with him as she let herself admit what a charming man he really was.

No wonder Mark liked him so much in college, she thought. He does have that sort of personal magnetism…

She let herself lean carelessly against the huge desk just the way Stuart had been leaning a few moments ago. But this time, the Camp Director stood in front of her frankly appraising her with his eyes. She didn't flinch when he moved closer – the room was too small for him to be very far away anyway – but she did jerk abruptly when she felt his fingers at her waistline.

"Oh…! St… Stuart!" she exclaimed weakly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at his renewed advances. Just when she was beginning to enjoy his company, she didn't want to be reminded of the unpleasant first half of her visit.

"Relax, Natalie," he chided. "I wouldn't hurt one of my own employees, would I?" He slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her short-shorts, and ran them along the silky smooth flesh of her tiny, girlish waist. "I just think we should get to know each other…"

The voluptuous brunette had heard that line a hundred times before, but for some reason, it didn't seem so obviously insincere from Stuart Brooks as it always had before. Natalie shook her head as if she was dreaming, but she couldn't shake off her strange feeling.

With a start, she realized that she must be being affected by the alcohol, even though the drink had been small and not too strong.

She looked down fearfully as her husband's friend loosened the front zipper of her shorts. "My God, Stuart… really!" she protested, steadying herself with her hands against the edge of the desk. She tried to clamp her thighs together to stop the Camp Director from sliding her short-shorts all the way down the satiny length of her legs, but it nearly made her lose her balance. "N… Now, stop it… this instant!" she commanded, almost as if she was talking to herself.

The older man seemed amused by her protests. "Hell, baby, I hired you as a teacher, not a prudish little teenager. Where's your adult maturity?" he queried mockingly. The green shorts were descending slowly down Natalie's smooth legs, tugged gently by the man's anxious fingers. "Aaaah, that's better," Stuart said with satisfaction as he lifted the brunette's feet to remove the camp shorts. He gazed lewdly at her thin nylon-covered pubic mound, shadowed darkly through her panties.

Natalie gasped when she felt her last flimsy protection disappearing too, and her flesh tingled when she felt the air washing over her private, forbidden genitals. "Ooooooh," she moaned helplessly. "Oooooh, God…"

She shut her eyes tightly as she felt the Camp Director's palms slowly pushing her thighs apart, sliding his hands softly over their inner flesh. She jerked involuntarily as they roamed inexorably upward, moving butterfly-like across the sensitive white flesh. She could feel his breath coming in short hard gasps as his fingers made light, subtle contact with her fleshy, hair-lined cunt-lips. Natalie groaned helplessly as his fingers teased over them, pushing the soft outer flanges into the thin quivering slit of her vagina. He played gently, his probing digits pulling teasingly at her darkly curling pubic wisps.

Not again… God, not again! the half-naked woman thought frantically. I can't give in again… Lord, Natalie, get hold of yourself! You don't have to let him go that far… Oh, God, make it stop! It's torturing me.

His index finger slipped suddenly between the outer lips and flicked teasingly at the moist red opening beneath, bringing another groan from her lips. She had never felt so humiliated in her life as she felt now, but at the same time, she didn't know what to do! Refuse him? And risk not only her job, but the chance to straighten out her marriage as well… Let him go on? Heavens! How could giving in to another man ever help her problems with Mark? It just isn't fair!

Frightened, confused tears began to well up under the brown-eyed woman's lids, and she worked her mouth desperately to keep them from falling. She struggled to stand upright, determined to stop the lewd outrages that her husband's old friend was planning for her, but when she looked down at his obscenely grinning face, she slumped back against the desk.

There was no escape. Somehow, against her will, she had let herself get led into this. Who knows, maybe she had even invited it, by some unconscious action on her part. This afternoon in the staff cabin, she had certainly caused the young camper to become aroused. God, maybe she'd done the same thing to Stuart Brooks! Maybe her marital frustration was so obvious in her expression that she was really inviting these outrageous advances! But I love my husband, don't want these other men to… to use my body.

She shut her eyes as his hands pushed the hem of her blouse up to expose the whole area of her soft, down-covered crotch. Then she felt him unbuttoning the front of her shirt and sighing in obscene appreciation as the large firm spheres of her breasts came into his view, under the thin, sheer lace of her brassiere. She tried not to cringe from his touch as her mind whirled crazily in confusion.

Oh, he can't… he simply can't she was saying mentally. I've got to make him stop, without jeopardizing my job… God, I've just got to stop this… this adultery.

"Oh, Christ, baby," Stuart was breathing, "you sure are fucking beautiful." His hotly working fingers were reaching behind Natalie's back now, searching for the tiny clasp that held her bra. The young teacher's flesh seemed to melt to butter under his hot caress, as she sank back against the desk in hopeless submission. She sighed audibly as the confining elastic of her lace brassiere was suddenly released, and her huge breasts swung free of their prison. "Jesus Christ! You've got the biggest tits this side of the Rockies, Natalie… even bigger than old Lollie's!" He stood back appraisingly to admire them. "Yes, sir, old Jenkins sure got himself a fox. Tits like that'll poke your fucking eyes out!"

The black-haired nature guide's wife winced at the Camp Director's crude observations, and once more she made a valiant effort to put an end to this salaciousness. "Yes, Stuart," she croaked fearfully. "thank you for… for the com-compliment… Now, I'd bet-t-ter get my clothes on and… and…" She pushed against the desk top to try to stand up, but the muscular man's reactions were too swift. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her whole body back on to the desk, so that her naked upper body was now reclining backwards and her long legs were dangling helplessly over the edge.

Her quivering, curl-covered pubic mound was perched just at the corner of the desk top, and below it, Stuart could see the delicate coralline flesh of the teacher's trembling pussy.

He pressed her firm, ivory thighs apart with his hot, moist hands, spreading the tender cuntal flanges so he could actually see the smooth inner flesh of her vagina. Natalie had never before felt so exposed in all her life, and she began to feel nauseous as the older man continued to pet and fondle her soft, yielding flesh. The tears that had collected under her eyelids now trickled out the corners of her eyes to run silently down the sides of her temples and drop into the billowing mass of her black curls.

She fully expected that the Camp Director was going to pull off his clothes and attack her, without further hesitation or preliminaries. She wondered briefly what time it was, or if there was any chance that the dinner bell might sound and save her from further degradation, but her imagination was soon overcome by Stuart's voice, sounding deeper and more menacing than before.

"Mmmm-hhhmmmm… that's it… just like that, Natalie. Now, if I can just get around here…" The teacher heard the folding chair she had been sitting on now scraping across the linoleum floor of the office, and she jerked her head up in surprise. Stuart Brooks was dragging it across the room to the cabinet from which he had produced the vodka, and he seemed to be preparing to stand on it!

It was then, for the first time, that Natalie noticed the expensive looking 35mm camera atop the liquor cabinet. It was surrounded by equipment like flash units and extra lenses and suddenly the black-haired teacher was wracked with apprehension. Her mind quickly made the connection, even before Stuart had climbed up on the chair. He was going to photograph her! He was going to take a picture of her in this lewd, compromising position!

"Oh, no, you can't," she whispered fearfully. Her legs clamped together instinctively and she raised herself up on her elbows. "Please, Stuart… I didn't mean to… uh… lead you on or anything…" Her voice sounded weak and ineffectual to her own ears, and she groaned to herself when she heard it.

"Oh, now, Natalie," the older man chided. "This won't hurt… I told you I never hurt my teachers, didn't I? A man doesn't often meet a gorgeous chick like you, Natalie, and I'm sure your husband won't mind if I take a few pictures as mementos. Now, just lie back like you were." He was speaking to her now from behind the camera, which he seemed to be focusing as he talked. He stood up on the chair beside the open window, letting the afternoon light stream in on the teacher's prostrate form on the desk. The sun lit her thighs and sparse pubic curls, bathing them in warm, yellow light, accenting the pulsing pinkness of her private pussy flesh. Stuart sighed aloud.

"Aaaaah, right there – hold it!" Click! The Camp Director rolled the film on… click…! Again… click! "Oh, fantastic, baby!"

"Now, I've just got to get a couple more… here…" He stepped down from the chair and came over to the desk again. This time he raised both her knees high in the air, placing her heels on the edge of the desk in a lewd, outspread position. Her long, shapely legs were poised like a couple of golden arches, one on either side of her deliciously exposed cuntal slit. She balanced her feet on the edge of the desk top, unconsciously thrusting her vaginal plane closer to the camera as Stuart Brooks climbed back up on the chair to focus again.

"Okay, baby, you look great… right there, Natalie! Oh, shit, hold it like that!" Click! Another obscene picture was recorded on the licentious man's film. Click…! Click… The black-haired woman groaned inwardly as she heard each frame being rolled on, as the Camp Director took picture after picture of her helplessly exposed body. She tried to tell herself that it could be worse, that the former college friend of her husband's might be actually fucking her instead of taking lewd photographs, but it did no good. If he had attacked her, or even raped her, the act would be over and done with, just as her seductive liaison with Jason Powell was a thing of the past, however lewd and forbidden. But a picture… that was something permanent, a constant reminder of her inability to control her desires or inclinations.

Natalie was almost afraid to ask why the muscular bachelor was so intent on photographing her nudely reclining body. It crossed her mind that pictures were potential evidence against her in some kind of court action – but for what? Did the Camp Director have some kind of unspoken suspicion about her – maybe some idea of what had happened in the staff cabin this afternoon? Oh, no, it can't be! No one can ever find out about Jason!

Suddenly, the teacher was more concerned about finding young Powell and cautioning him not to tell any one about their obscene interlude than she was about the fact that Stuart Brooks was again repositioning her body for another series of pictures. She rolled compliantly over onto her side as the brown-haired man poked and kneaded at her supple flesh, pulling her arms and legs as he arranged the next pose. She balanced her head on her hand, this time propping it up so her thick black hair cascaded down over her slender forearm. She raised her leg high in the air and grasped her ankle with the other hand just as Stuart directed, and if she looked down the deep valley between her breasts, she could almost see the moistening lips of her exposed pussy glistening in the sun. She was ashamed and humiliated beyond belief, but her imagination was back in the staff cabin, a couple of hours ago.

Jason would have gone back to his hiking group, of course, and surely he couldn't have started talking about his experience right then, in front of his nature guide, Natalie's own husband. If Mark had divided them up into groups and sent them off on their own, then the blond youth would have had the chance to tell his buddy what had happened, but… If Mark needed the edible plants book, he must have been giving them some group instruction right? God, I hope so! I, oh, Mark just HAD to keep all the boys together today. He just had to. The afternoon hiking sessions were supposed to break up at five or five-thirty, to give the boys time to go back to their cabins to wash up for dinner. That would be the time Jason would have been able to tell someone what he had done… Natalie tried to remember the youths who had been giggling outside the staff cabin when she had been on her way over here. Were they in Mark's group? Or were they her own young charges from this morning's 3-R's class? Why weren't they being supervised? Lord! What if Jason didn't even go back to his hiking group?

The new and frightening possibility renewed the teacher's apprehension, as she realized that even if her husband had tried to communicate with her over the intercom radio she wouldn't have heard him… she had been in the bedroom, stroking and caressing her own trembling cuntal flesh. God Almighty!

Natalie moaned as she unconsciously responded to Stuart Brooks' prompting, "Shove your ass back, sweetheart. I want a shot of that tight little asshole you've got… That's it, pull it apart with your fingers…" The man's bold, almost clinical tone seemed out of place with Natalie's frenzied worrying, but it made her present predicament seem less ominous. She complied with even Stuart's most perverted requests, allowing him to photograph her most private, forbidden flesh.

It seemed like ages before the Camp Director grunted and gasped that he had exhausted his roll of film, and for a few frantic seconds, Natalie feared what might happen next. But she was shocked and relieved when Stuart smiled calmly. "Thank you, my dear… you were absolutely wonderful… We'll have to get together for some group poses sometime…" The young teacher didn't have time to wonder what he meant by "group poses"… she had to find Jason Powell, right away. Hurriedly she dressed herself for the third time this afternoon, and left the Director's Office without even taking her folders with her.

Natalie had barely had time to freshen up before Mark trudged into their bedroom, dusty and sweaty, but happy.

"How was your afternoon, honey?" he greeted her with a peck on the forehead. "I'm bushed… Christ, I don't know what I'd do if I was a gym teacher and had to watch thirty kids running around all the time. Twelve is bad enough… You can't imagine the way they fired questions at me all afternoon. That's why I had to send that kid back for the book… There are a few plants out here that I couldn't identify."

The brunette teacher nodded sympathetically, hoping that her expression wasn't betraying her real interest in her husband's day. "Did you try to split them up into groups, dear?"

"No… no, I haven't done that yet, although they do seem to have buddies among their cabin-mates."

Natalie sighed inwardly. At least Jason couldn't have told anybody during the hike. But her husband's next question caught her off-guard.

"What did you think of the boy I sent for the book, Nat?" he asked, apparently unaware of her uneasiness.

"The… um… you mean Jason Powell?" the teacher stammered. Why is he asking? Does he suspect?

"Yeah… nice looking kid, isn't he?" Mark commented absently. "He looks a little bit like St-Stuart Brooks…"

Natalie's lovely face drained of all color. Mark did know! It was impossible, but it was the only explanation… Why would he talk about Jason and Stuart both at the same time?

But how, oh God, how could he know? It had only been a scant fifteen minutes since the embarrassing episode in the Camp Director's office, and Mark had been out on a hike all afternoon. Dear God!

Mark continued almost without hesitation. "Seeing old Stu again after ten years has really brought back some memories. Stu used to be pretty wild, you know, and he thought I was some kind of priest…" He looked up from where he was sitting on the bed and smiled ironically at his young, beautiful wife. "I guess you think I'm some kind of priest, too, don't you, dear?" His clear green eyes were sad as he spoke, almost as if he was apologizing to her for something.

The black-haired woman felt herself close to tears. How could she allow it? How could she let Mark apologize to her, after all she had done this afternoon? It was almost as if she was deliberately flaunting their mutual agreement to try to work out their problem. She was the one who should be apologizing to him.

But not yet… it was too soon… Maybe he had started talking about Jason and Stuart out of coincidence, rather than from some deliberate plan. Natalie turned away from her husband's sad smile and looked out the small window into the clearing. Already groups of hastily-scrubbed boys were lining up outside the mess hall with their group leaders, anxiously waiting for the dinner gong to sound. Natalie recognized one or two of the fresh young faces she had in class, but the only name that was in her mind was Jason Powell. Shaking her head sadly, the young teacher turned back to see her husband wrapping a towel around himself.

"I'm going down to take a shower, honey… See you at dinner!"

Natalie nodded. It was still hot outside even though it was almost 6 PM, so she didn't bother to change out of her shorts into something warmer. Besides, maybe if she hurried she could catch Jason Powell alone for a minute or two, and explain to him why their little encounter would have to remain a secret forever.