Weekend Samplers: Part 3.

A Trip to Walter & Vera’s Lake house.

Based on posts by lckscknfck7, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Ken
and I tightened the moorings on the boat and decided the worst of the
weather was over. We headed to the marina to find out the weather
forecast, and it looked like it was going to rain the rest of the night,
and into the morning. No campfire tonight.

We
grabbed a few six-packs and decided to check out the campground lodge.
Ken’s tow straps came in handy as we ended up helping the park staff
clear the essential roads, on our way to the lodge. Twenty minutes of
tugging and dodging felled trees later, we pulled up to the unusually
crowded lodge. On an average weekend, you'd have trouble believing the
lodge was open, but on this early night, even with the few campers that
showed up yesterday, there were at least three families, a half dozen
couples, and a church youth group.

Heavy
wind and rain didn't make camping in tents very fun, so most of the
campers decided to head to the lodge to get out of the weather, enjoy
some popcorn, and maybe catch a free movie. Herbie the Love Bug was
playing on this particular evening.

Mixed
in the crowd, sitting in the back, were the older couple we met at the
floating dock. The woman caught my eye, and apparently, I caught hers as
she sprang up to greet me.

"I
thought we might see you here!" she said happily. Her breath carried
the smell of gin, which was almost expected, but her perfume smelled
like something Angie wore whenever she wanted to get fucked. "I'm Vera,"
she held out her hand; "and this is my husband, Walter."

I
shook her hand and introduced Ken and myself. She bluntly asked if we
were gay. After a little laughter, we explained that our "significant"
others were taking a nap back in the camper. She asked if we were
married, to which Ken reluctantly replied; "Just me."

"Well, just because you're married doesn't mean you can't have any fun, right?" Walter asked.

"Oh, I still have fun. Sometimes more than I deserve. " Ken added.

This last comment caused Vera to raise an eyebrow. She looked at me, then looked me over.

"How
about you? Do you still have fun?" she asked. She had a disarming,
flirtatious way of talking and moving. He body language was very
provocative.

“Yes we do.” I added. “There are some worn out women who would agree, if they weren’t napping, just now.”

Walter
didn't appear to mind, or pay any attention to us. He was too busy
looking at the female half of a young couple sitting across from us. The
girl's bikini top was wet and probably cold by the look of her erect
nipples.

"Yeah, I think I still have plenty of fun." I smiled and looked at Walter, trying to draw Vera's attention to his gaze.

"Plenty
to go around?" Vera pursued. She moved closer to me and rubbed her
cleavage onto my upper arm. She gently rested her hand on my ass, and
pulled my hand onto hers. I instinctively gave her cheek a squeeze and
was surprised at the firmness.

"Do you work out?" I asked.

"Once
a day. Sometimes twice if I have a little extra energy" she smiled. She
stepped away and gave a little turn like a runway model at the end of
the runway. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I think whatever you're doing is working very well for you. Your husband must be very happy." I added.

"Walter?"
she balked. "He's happy, alright, as long as I keep letting him jerk
off to the likes of little miss nipples over there."

I
wasn't sure if I was playing into her hands or she was playing into
mine, but I think we were thinking along the same lines. I looked her
over and noticed she had done a very good job of maintaining a dark tan
without letting her skin turn to leather. Her body was as firm and tight
as a Dallas Cowboy's Cheerleader, but her face gave her age away,
especially when she smiled, which unfortunately, was quite often.

"How old do you think I am?" she asked.

"I don't know, and it wouldn't be polite for me to guess." I said, trying to avoid a conflict.

"You're polite enough to grab my ass in front of my husband, so you can be polite enough to guess," she said without smiling.

She had sharp wits and a very assertive nature.

"I don't know. Forty-five?” I asked.  “Fifty?"

"Ha!" she laughed. "I turn fifty-five this weekend. Not bad, for a Swedish gal, huh?"

"No,” I answered. "Not bad at all. Well, happy birthday!" She walked back to her husband to pull him into the conversation.

It
wasn't until she turned her back to me that I realized what great shape
she was really in. From the back, she could have been one of Angie's
friends from college. Her blond-whi