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From: Incest Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Subject: story: "A Husband's Hobby" Chapter 3
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===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/husbhob03.html
A Husband's Hobby
Chapter 3
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
>From grobert@soho.ios.com Wed Sep 04 17:05:37 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: HusbHoby 3/8 "A
Husband's Hobby" From: grobert@soho.ios.com (TheEditor)
Date: Wed, 04 Sep 1996 07:05:37 -0800
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 Brook's 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 Brook's 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.
>From grobert@soho.ios.com Wed Sep 04 17:05:58 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: HusbHoby 4/8 "A
Husband's Hobby" From: grobert@soho.ios.com (TheEditor)
Date: Wed, 04 Sep 1996 07:05:58 -0800
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 Stu --- 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.
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