The red camp chair
Looking back now, it seems like a dream. The images that I replay in my mind feel like a fantasy. I have no physical proof that anything did happen. It is not like it left an indelible mark on my body. However, in the back of my brain, I know it was real. It really did happen. I know that I should feel guilty, but I don’t. Not at all. It even makes me smile when I recall that night and I think of it often. I still can’t fathom why I did what I did. Perhaps it was acting out on a midlife crisis, or I was just horny. Maybe it was predestined, like I was directed by some unknown force, and I had no control. An opportunity presented itself and like a moth driven to a flame, I felt compelled to act. Without hesitation or any resistance on my part, I did it. I got laid.
My husband, our two kids and I were camping. We have a little pop-up that we inherited from my parents that we use three or four times a year. It was July and we took a week and spent it at a state park. Across from us was a restored 1980’s era vintage camper. It looked just like the one my grandparents had when I was growing up. Seeing it was like looking back at my childhood. For the first couple days we saw no one come in or out of the site. Someone was obviously staying there as there were two chairs around the fire ring, a bicycle, a cooler, tablecloth on the picnic table and a hammock strung between two trees. There was an Irish flag flying from a pole attached to the camper. When we first arrived on Friday evening, there was a kayak leaning against the camper, but it was gone when we got up the next morning.
On Sunday evening just about dusk, a young man came back to the site. Soon he came over and introduced himself. He explained that he had left early Saturday morning and launched his Kayak upstream on river that ran through the park. He had slept in the Kayak along the river last night. His plan had been to get back here today and then use the bike to retrieve his truck. But the trip had taken longer than he had expected because the water level was really low, and he had to carry his kayak several times. Now it was too dark to take the bike. He asked if we could give him a ride to get his truck as he needed it to go to work in the morning. He said that it wasn’t too far as the river meandered and that it wouldn’t take long if we took the interstate. My husband gladly gave him a ride. They were gone for about 45 minutes.
Over the next couple evenings, we got to know him a bit better. He was a finish carpenter and was working a construction job building a house nearby. He had been living in his camper moving from job to job since a divorce two years ago. He was funny and had endless stories of adventures. I was completely captivated by him. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It didn’t take long to figure out that he was also the kind of guy that you would tell your daughters to stay away from. He was gorgeous and had a body to die for. Curly blond hair and blue eyes. Every day after work he would capture my attention as he did his CrossFit workout in just a pair of shorts. It was almost like he was teasing me. He would see me watching him and invite me over to work out with him. I desired to go but I couldn’t allow myself to indulge in such a fantasy with my husband and kids nearby. I knew that taking him as a lover would be great fun, but also be heartbreaking. It wasn’t thoughts that a married woman should even entertain anyway.
On Wednesday night, I awoke about a quarter after one and went to the bathroom. When I returned, I saw him in the hammock out by the fire. At first, I thought he was asleep, but he saw me and called me over. I talked to him for probably thirty minutes or so before returning to the camper. It was mostly pointless banter. But I enjoyed hearing his stories. The one question that I remember asking him was why he had two chairs around the fire when he was the only one camping. He explained that he believed that if you really want something in your life, you must prepare a place for it to appear. He said that he wanted a special woman to come into his life and that he had sat the red camp chair out just for her. That struck me as silly at first. But he seemed so certain that soon a woman would come and sit in that chair and that she would become his lover. He was so certain that it was hard for me to not believe him.
It was well after dark when he returned to the campsite after work on Thursday and that concerned me because we were leaving on Friday. I had been thinking about him all day. I longed for him to return and the longer I wanted the more I felt panicked. I knew that I had found him intriguing, kind of like you do when you see an actor in a movie, but I was surprised that I seemed to have feelings for him even though I have known him for a few days. This evening would be the last chance that I would have to see him, and I almost missed my opportunity. I was already in bed when his truck pulled in. My husband found it strange that I got up just to briefly be able say goodbye to him in the middle of the road.
That night, I awoke again in the middle of the night. This time, I was having a very vivid dream of being intimate with him. The images were intense and did not leave my mind like normal dreams do. I was so horny that I couldn’t go back to sleep. I got up and went outside. I wished we could talk one more time. He must have been inside his camper as I didn’t see him, and his lights were out. Emblematic of my feelings for him, I could see the embers still smoldering in his fire ring, but there were no flames. I thought about going back inside our camper, but I needed a release. I went to the bathroom, not because I had to, but to go someplace private in an attempt to quench the fire inside of me so that I could possibly get some sleep. Masturbating in a public bathroom was something that I had not done since my youth.
When I returned, I saw him in the darkness crouching next to the fire ring and poking at the burning embers with a stick. I watched as he placed another log on the fire and the flames were reawakened. So were mine. Relieved that I would see him one more time, I went over and sat down next to him. He immediately smiled and chuckled. “What’s so funny”, I asked. He replied, “I never expected that you would be the one”. Then it dawned on me that without thinking about it, I had sat in his red chair.
Maybe it was predestined, maybe I was directed by some unknown force to fulfill his desire for a lover. His certainty that his lover would come and sit in that chair made what happened next inevitable. I didn’t even question it. It was like I had fallen into a river and was now being carried away. I was unable and unwilling to resist. Not a word was said. I got out of the chair, and I grabbed his hand. We went into his camper, and without any hesitation, I gave myself to him. It was simply amazing.
About an hour later, I crawled back into bed with my husband. He woke up long enough to ask me where I had been. I told him that I had gone to the bathroom, which wasn’t totally incorrect. Twice in fact. The first time to masturbate. The second time to wash the semen of my lover that was leaking down my leg. My husband rolled over and went back to sleep.
His truck was already gone when I got up in the morning. My husband stated that he must have had a girl over last night and pointed out that the red camp chair was folded up next to the camper. He must have told my husband the purpose of the chair as well. I said nothing but just smiled knowing that I was the woman that he had in his bed last night. But I was also sad that realizing that I would probably never see him again. I guess that is what one-night stands are like.
I had a one night stand with a younger man. I wish that I'd be able to express it as well as you.
I loved this story, but it made me sad. I lost my wife a year ago. We had been together since we were 15, and married at 17 right after we graduated.
We had a few rough spots and I found comfort in several other women's arms. She always found out, I confessed. She kind of always used that information as a weapon.
Moving to a smaller place I was going through what to toss and what to keep.
Found a treasure trove of letters she kept. Some when I was overseas in the service and some from a guy that had grown up next door to her. Seems like they were having sex even before we did.
It was apparent that they had hooked up quite a few times over the years.
Honestly the 15 year old me wouldn't have cared for the and ended it. The 25 year old me would have been curious about it. The 60 old me could have cared less.
I'm glad that she had something, sad that she wasn't honest with me.
Loved this story. I wonder if your husband really knew but loves you so much he let you have this evening! I love my wife's creampie adventures, her stories of how it got there and the fact that she brings them home for my enjoyment. I love a creamy pussy and I love seeing her so happy!
Lovely story, beautifully told. Reads like the script for a movie.