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I have been in love with only two men in my lifetime and it is only now, many years latter, that I realized the one I truly loved was not the one I married. A little history is required here so I’ll just give the pertinent facts as they occurred. My name is Jillian, um, Jill to my friends and co-workers. Barry Kaminski and I have been married since 1984 until his death in 2004…twenty years of wedded bliss, sprinkled with a good dose of yelling, fights and sometimes violence because our personalities were as different as night and day. Barry was a loud, boisterous and full time braggart, sometimes to my embarrassment…while I was the quiet and shy wife.

Once at a party, I was casually talking to a male acquaintance we both knew very well, when Barry, drunk as a skunk, came over and grabbed my crotch and said to our friend, “Back off buddy…her pussy is mine.” I was so embarrassed that I had to leave the party and wait out in the car. On the way home, I drove and gave Barry a piece of my mind while he was passed out in the back seat. I doubt if he heard me as drunk as he was, but I felt better…much better. I may be a shy woman, but I wasn’t always a timid mouse, especially when I was right and he was wrong and just being a big stupid ass hole.

Don’t get the wrong idea that I’m a saint, because I’m not…no one is, but there were times when I stood nose to nose with my raging husband and never gave up an inch of my determination. I can control my temper most of the time, but when I do lose it…watch out, the dinner dishes soon will be flying. Many a time, I vowed to leave him, but I always relented when my temper cooled and I thought of our daughter. She loves her father in spite of his yelling and drinking and needs a two parent home. However, as soon as she’s eighteen…I’m out of this marriage from hell.

Barry’s best man at our wedding was Joe, a quiet and unassuming man…whom I always had the deepest respect for. Joe was also Barry’s best friend and camping buddy and they would go off for the weekend camping at a nearby campground. I wasn’t the outdoors gal and usually stayed home with our daughter, Cindy because if there are bugs around…you won’t find me there. We had a camping trailer set up at Whispering Pines, one of the local campgrounds about an hours drive from our home in the city and on any given weekend, that’s where you would find my Barry and his buddy, Joe…drinking and telling tall tales. However, when the three of us were together…Barry, as usual did most of the talking. He was, I must admit, a wonderful storyteller and often had me on the verge of peeing in my panties from laughing so hard. Joe, on the other hand, was like me, very quiet and just listened to Barry’s usual tall tales.

My Barry, when he was drank, often got mean and violent and that was the primary reason that I never went camping with him…besides the bugs of course. Barry could be a wonderful man when he was sober…but that was wishful thinking on my part. As soon as Barry got home from work…he started drinking…and yelling…and fighting…bla bla bla. When he gets like that, I just tune him out and let him alone for the rest of the night…and forget about sex…he wasn’t getting any that night.

Joe on the other hand, got talkative and funny when he had a few too many and that to me made him a more desirous person to be around because he was like me…a lovable drunk. One incident I’ll never forget took place last summer concerning Joe and drinking and it still brings a smile to my face to this day, because Joe and I…were sexually intimate. It was so wonderful and probably the most erotic lovemaking I have every experienced and right under my hubby’s nose. Um, let me explain…as best as I remembered it because it was a long night and all of us were drinking.

On the few occasions that I ventured into the wilds of south western Luzerne county to visit my two rugged outdoorsmen down at the camp ground…I have to admit that this one time was probably the best time I had down there in the three years we owned the trailer. Given the crazy way the evening started…I still find it hard to believe that it happened at all. It was late August…a week before labor day on a Friday night and already getting dark at eight o’clock when my daughter and I stopped at McDonalds a few miles from the campground for a late supper and we enjoyed a nice quiet leisurely meal for a change. I had to work swing hours that Friday and didn’t have time to make supper, but I knew Cindy had supper at my mom’s but that was three hours ago and she’s probably hungry now…like I am. On alternate Fridays, I work from ten in the morning to six and then it’s a forty-five minute drive home in rush hour traffic and I didn’t pick up Cindy at my mother’s house until quarter to seven and then drive an hour to get to the silly campground. Thank god I knew the way to the campground in the dark, but there was a full moon that came out once in a while from a partly cloudy sky. Soon we were driving up the canlı bahis şirketleri camp ground’s gravel main road to our campsite and parking behind Joe’s new Jeep. No sooner than I turned off the engine, Cindy was springing out of our car and running over to her father. Barry was sitting on his pickup truck’s tailgate by the campfire with Joe and Cindy gave her father a big hug. Barry smiled and returned her hug, but just looked at me and shook his head and tapped his finger on his watch and I apologized,

“I know…I know…we’re late, but I had to work swing hours today…remember?” Barry gave Joe a nudge and said,

“You gotta love my workaholic wife…she makes you and me look bad.” Joe gave me a sincere smile and greeted me warmly…something my hubby failed to do when we arrived. Oh well…that’s married life I suppose.

The plan was simple. I would spend Friday night with Barry in the shoebox-sized master bedroom of our trailer, while Joe slept on the convertabed in the dinette area at the front of our trailer. Um, Cindy would spend the remainder of the weekend with her grand parents at their trailer just up the road…maybe three, four hundred feet away. I would go home early Saturday morning because I had to work from 8 to noon, then I would pick up Cindy sometime Sunday morning because she had soccer practice in the afternoon. I put my overnight bag and purse on the bed in the so-called bedroom of our camper and then walked my daughter up the road to Barry’s parent’s trailer, carrying her over night bag and box of board games.

When we got to their trailer, Gammy Kelso was standing on the front porch waiting for us. She’s a peeker-outer when she’s expecting someone and she was expecting us. Yes, their huge trailer had a porch and all the amenities of a small ranch house on wheels. Anyway, I said my pleasantries and explained our tardiness then told Cindy to behave herself or else…I’ll box her ears. Cindy knew I was kidding but I don’t think Gammy Kelso thought so. In her thinking, I was a poor excuse of a mother, but I think differently…I’m a great mother. Well, Gammy Kelso and I never really hit it off because I was obviously never good enough for her precious son. Oh well…in laws…right?

I was still wearing my work heels and walking was difficult as I slowly walked back down the hill to our campsite in the near pitch darkness when the full moon was behind the clouds or the tall pine trees that were everywhere. More than once I tripped while walking down that stupid gravel road, but when I tripped again…I fell. I was so mad…I cursed the road…the campground and my husband. I got to my feet and brushed myself off and walked to our campsite without further incident. When I got there…Barry was still sitting on the tail gate and all I got from my hubby when I showed him my skinned knees was a smirk and him saying,

“What a fuckin klutz for wearing heels.” I was ready to lay into him…but why bother and I just replied,

“When you’re right…you’re right honey.”

The campground didn’t have streetlights except for the one down by the camp store and another one way down by the pool at the bottom of the hill…two measly streetlights for a sprawling twenty-acre campground. I went into the trailer and changed into more suitable clothes…shorts, tee shirt and of course sneakers and when I was done, I joined Barry and sat next to him on the pickup’s tailgate and he gave me a beer. I could see that he was drunk as a skunk already, but surprising placid so I was crossing my fingers hoping we wouldn’t have the usual family squabble tonight. I just wanted chill out and drink a little and unwind from my mind numbing day at work…not to mention the long drive to get here. I looked around and didn’t see any signs of Joe, so I asked,

“Where’s Joe…taking a piss or something?” Barry just laughed and said,

“He went for a walk down to the camp store…he was out of pipe tobacco. Geeze, you should have seen him wobbling like a drunken sailor when he left…what a pathetic site. He can’t even hold his beer without spilling it.” I rolled my eyes in disgust at my unfeeling husband’s lackadaisical attitude towards his best friend and said,

“If Joe’s that drunk…was it wise to let him walk down there in the dark in the condition he’s in?” Barry leaned away from me and blew a smelly fart at me and said,

“Ahhhh hops.” I rolled my eyes in disgust and said,

“Why didn’t you stop him or at least go with him?”

“Jesus Christ woman…it’s only five hundred feet down the road from here…all down hill. What do you want me to do next…hold his dick when he pees my beer down the toilet?” I rolled my eyes again at my husband and said,

“I’m going to go look for him…you coming with me?”

“Naw…Joe’s a big boy. I’ll just wait here and have a beer ready for the ass hole when he gets back.” As I got down off the tailgate, I said under my breathe,

“You’re the ass hole…shit head.” He probably didn’t hear canlı kaçak iddaa me in the condition he was in…so I headed down the road in the dark…determined to find a drunken lost friend. In five minutes, I was standing at the counter of the Camp store…making an inquire as to whether Joe made it this far. I described Joe to the elderly man behind the counter and he flashed me a smile and said,

“Yes…I do believe he was in hereabout, um, ten, fifteen minutes ago. He bought a pouch of pipe tobacco and a six-pack of Coors lite. Is he missing or something?”

“No…just momentarily misplaced. He was pretty drunk when he left our campsite and I didn’t want him falling down somewhere.”

“That so? When he left here, he made a left turn and headed down the hill. There’s nothing down that way but the swimming pool and it’s closed now.”

I flashed the elderly man a smile and walked out onto the deck and looked down the hill…it was dark…very dark and I didn’t have a flashlight. The full moon would make a brief appearance, but wouldn’t stay long enough to see by. I went back in and bought a cheap flashlight and left…hoping to pick up Joe’s trail. I knew for a fact that Joe had a great sense of direction and I couldn’t imagine him getting lost like this. Then again, he’s drunk and that changes things. I walked down the road and pointed my flashlight here and there and not seeing a damned thing…crappy flashlight. For all I know, an elephant could be standing there and I wouldn’t see it.

I took a connecting side road that merged into another road and started walking up the hill, but this road went past more campsites…many of which were dark. Nobody home I guess. There’s a multiplex movie theater and several restaurants at the mall, about six miles away and many of the campers go there for a few hours since it was a Friday night. I continued to walk, stumbling now and then and cursing the darkness and camping. By now I was well past our campsite…a few hundred feet through the pine trees. I saw Gammy Kelso’s trailer and was about to walk up onto the porch when I heard laughter and conversation coming from out back in their small back yard. Yes, they even had a back yard. I walked around to the back and suddenly stopped dead in my tracks and nearly pissed in my panties. There was Gammy and Grandpa Kelso sitting around a campfire toasting marshmallows with my daughter and Joe. I walked over to Joe and almost clubbed him on the side of the head and said,

“I was looking all over for you…you son of a bitch. I was worried sick about you. How in the hell did you end up here?”

“Hi Jill…how are you?”

He was obviously drunk and from the two beers left of his six-pack…I was guessing he was feeling no pain. Gammy Kelso gave me a “what was that all about” look and I sat down on a redwood bench next to my daughter and explained what was going on. Grandpa Kelso just laughed and said,

“I gave Joe a ride up the hill when I bumped into him coming out of the store. From what I could see, he was in no condition to walk back to the campsite in the dark. What’s Barry up too…are you spending the night with him?”

“Well…Barry’s fine and yeah, I’ll spend the night I guess…someone has to keep these two knuckle heads out of trouble.”

I was looking at Joe and shaking my head, but a thought occurred to me…he may be drunk, but at least he doesn’t get mean. I went over to Joe and helped him to his feet and said,

“Come on Daniel Boone…I’ll walk you home. Thank you for what you did Grandpa Kelso…I appreciate your kindness.”

Before we left, I gave my daughter a big hug and a goodnight peck on the cheek and told her I’ll be leaving early in the morning, but I’ll stop by to say goodbye. I gave Cindy a big wet, sloppy mommy kiss on the forehead and left with Joe. Joe was still a bit unsteady on his feet so I held him firmly around the waist. I never was this physically close to Joe in all the years I knew him and it felt kind of nice. Suddenly Joe stopped, excused himself and went into a nearby stand of mountain laurel and threw up. I could hear guts being heaved up…stomach contents puking down onto the dry leaves on the ground. Five minutes later, the heaving sounds stopped and all was quiet. Joe rejoined me. I had to roll my eyes and ask,

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much better…thank you.” I cracked a broad smile and mentioned,

“You’re going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”

Joe pulled a McDonald’s napkin from his pocket and wiped his mouth, but seeing no trash cans around…he didn’t know what to do with the soiled napkin after that. I rolled my eyes and took the napkin and tossed it away. He smiled and thanked me…saying,

“I never get hangovers.”

“Never?”

“Never…but I get the “runs” the next day instead.”

“Thanks for sharing that with me…Joe.”

I said as I rolled my eyes at his revelation and we continued our walk back to the campsite. I so canlı kaçak bahis wanted to really talk to Joe…to see what made him tick. Why was he such a goddamn gentleman when he was with me? Seeing the campsite just a hundred feet away…the time for meaningful talk was gone…in an instant. What happened next was out of the blue. I suddenly took Joe into my arms and kissed him just as the moon came out and we were standing in the middle of the gravel road…out in the open. I broke the kiss and said,

“Joe…forgive me…I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted to do that for such a long time.” Joe smiled and said plainly,

“Come on…we better get back…Barry will be wondering what happed to us.”

Minutes of agonizing silence passed and the closer we got to the campsite…I had to wonder if I came on too strong. I couldn’t even blame it on the beer because I didn’t drink all night. The blame was on me…in me. But Joe must feel the same way…he must. Joe suddenly put out his hand to stop me and put his arms around me and mentioned,

“I felt the same way…Jill…for a very long time.”

As soon as he put his arms around me, I almost collapsed…my knees feeling suddenly weak. I could see Barry clearly sitting on the back of his truck and knew this was wrong…very wrong, but yet I didn’t care…I wanted to know Joe intimately in a way only my husband knew me. I broke the kiss and looked around and spotted a neighbor’s trailer and said,

“Come with me before I regain my senses.”

Joe followed me with out question to a trailer at the next campsite from ours. I knew for a fact that the elderly couple that owned it were from New Jersey and hardly came camping. The blue and white striped awning was rolled up, the propane tanks were missing and the picnic table was turned on its side…so no one here for quite a while I surmised. I tried the door, but it was locked…well duh. I thought for a moment and said to Joe,

“There must be a spare key around here somewhere. Just don’t stand there Joe…help me look for it.”

I was aroused and wanted Joe soooo bad and while a locked door was a big nuisance…it wasn’t going to stop me…not the way I was feeling. I stood there tapping my lower lip with my finger and a light went on in my head…

“Of course.”

I immediately went to the front door and squatted down and quietly pulled out the metal entry step a little and swept my hand side to side and found it…a magnetic key holder. I knew where to look because that’s where we keep the spare key to our trailer. I opened the small metal key holder and pushed the key into the door lock and tried the door…it opened without a sound. I went in first and Joe followed. The musty smell of the trailer was over powering, but with the door and windows open, it’ll be fine. I opened all the windows and drew wide the curtains and once my eyes became adjusted to the dark…I walked back to the small bedroom in the back. Joe followed and when we stood looking at the comfortable looking bed, I kissed him and said,

“We may never have an opportunity like this Joe…soooo?”

Joe pulled me into him kissed me with growing passion while his hands were on my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard. My hand dropped to his crotch and cupped his growing cock and I knew I had to have him. Without debating the situation we found ourselves in…we shed our clothes in the semi dark bedroom. I was wearing casual walking shorts, a pink tee shirt and walking sneaks. Joe was in jeans and t-shirt and sneaks. When we were down to undies and I eagerly pulled his down to expose the nicest looking big cock I’ve seen on a man other than my husbands. It had to be ten inches of thick throbbing meat. As I was admiring Joe’s cock, he reached around me and unfastened my bra to let my big 36DD breasts swing free. Soon my panties were off and I was laying flat on my back and spreading wide my thighs…my unspoken signal for him to come and get me.

Suddenly, a shaft of moonlight came through the window and I could see Joe clearly and he took me without the usually foreplay…not that I missed it. Joe mounted me missionary style and pushed into me…driving his hard meat in and out like a pile driver. The bed squeaked while the trailer rocked slightly with every thrust and his rhythmic timing made me drift off to erotic seventh heaven. I swooned when he kissed my big tits…I moaned when with ecstasy when he pounded my neglected cunt…I groaned when he rolled me on my stomach and pulled me up onto my knees. Thrusting into my wet pussy doggie style really sent me over the fence for a homerun. There are two positions I like most…doggie and riding the cock, cow girl style and he was doing the one…oh my god. As my body lurched forwards with his first pile driver, I felt him deep…probably the very bottom of my vagina. My vagina is not very deep…five or six inches I guess…but he was deep in there with cock to spare. We fucked until I erupted in a violent orgasm…almost tearing the covers I was clutching off the bed. Joe realized his climax right after mine and pulled out and shot his load on my ass and lower back. Looking at his watch because it was getting late, he whispered while kissing my neck,

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