Hot Slutty Nudist Wife In Moldova by erectus123

You may have seen my articles in ‘American Archeology,’ under my rubric, Dr. Hamlet Steyer. I did my undergraduate degree at Columbia University and my Ph.D. at Harvard. My academic credentials made me a fine catch for the University of Denver, where I was offered tenure as an inducement to settle there. The University underwrote the mortgage on our ranch-style home and offered a 20% grant incentive. I have been teaching for nine years and probably will continue into retirement.

Denver is a fun place to live. The mountain and abundant sunshine, which nudist love, makes life pleasant. The landscapes are picturesque. The cost of living is moderate compared to most US cities. The restaurant scene is improving, and craft beer joints are everywhere. The University of Denver’s reputation keeps improving, and the students are well prepared and earnest, provided they don’t spend study time toking up on legal hemp. Traffic is one bugaboo, too many damn cars, tourists, and snowy days. But all in all, living in the mile-high city is not so bad.

I decided to return to our research site in Moldova, an Eastern European country where we had begun an archaeological dig several years earlier near the village of Bacota. My colleagues advised against a return for political reasons, i.e., the Ukrainian conflict, but after a two-year slowdown caused by the pandemic of (2020-22), I was anxious to start.

We had started our research in the deep gorge outside the small village, hoping to find remnants of early man’s habitation. Lakeside dwellers were a common phenomenon in the prehistory of Eastern Europe. In 1950-70 several prehistory sites in Yugoslavia were excavated. We were researching further east. Although the war in Ukraine was very concerning, local informants were confident it would not spill over into Moldova. We hoped life would return to normal and solve their political problems.

Before leaving the USA, we received vaccinations and extra shots (tetanus, etc.), so much so that I could hardly sit down or raise my arms. With the medical requirement completed, we bought our tickets and planned our return. The air flight direct from Los Angeles took about eighteen hours. The crew was relaxed, and no idiots tried to open the emergency doors or attempt to hold us as hostages.

My wife, Brenda, is a gorgeous blond with a baby doll face, big blue eyes, cupid lips, and a pair of natural tits that look like Marylyn’s. She is five foot ten with a slender waist, curvy hips but not fat assed, long slender legs with just the right amount of muscle. Her vagina is so beautiful; those who have seen it are mesmerized.

The Captain seemed fascinated with her when he made the rounds of the passengers, and right away, Brenda began flirting with the pilot, who afterward made frequent rounds of the passenger area to talk with her. Finally, the Captain sent out his co-pilot and invited her to the cockpit. Brenda can explain if you ever wondered why it is called ‘the cockpit.’ After her hour’s adventure, when she stepped over me to sit down, I saw her thong panties were missing under her short white pleated skirt. When we deplaned, I noticed the top edge of her panties folded like a handkerchief hanging from the smiling co-pilot’s breast pocket.

The geology of the archeological site was a sand-encrusted shear wall extending upwards for 150 feet above an ancient lake bed. The gorge was formed as an abutment to a large glacial lake in prehistoric times. Several years ago, we built a scaffold up against the lower section of the wall. When we left, We disassembled the platform at the finish of our first research and placed it in storage. With power tools, reassembly of the scaffold was easy. Being able to climb above the lower stratification levels allowed us to rake the sandy surface of the sea wall encrusted with sea shells and assorted bleached coral.

On the last trip, we did soundings and found evidence of a cave covered with silt and soil that washed down the slopes during the rainy seasons over the previous hundred thousand years. Finding that cave was the target of our return.

Our preliminary excavation revealed that the ancient river had meandered during the last 200,000 years and was now located five kilometers to the south. In the previous 50,000 years, the gorge offered safety for a small population of ancient fishermen who constructed a tiny village on the lakefront. Remnants of fossilized wooden piers were evident where habitations once lived. The ancient lake dwellers built floors and shelters on piers at the riverside. Fishing provided easy sustenance and made trade possible with other communities further inland.

Of course, my wife Brenda insisted on accompanying me, not as an archeologist but as an avid nudist with a propensity, if given half a chance, for wild promiscuity. I documented some of her adventures in earlier stories published here on Literotica. (See my works list featuring stories of Brenda entitled: ‘My Slutty Wife’s Halloween Party,’ ‘Nude, Not Lewd, Well Maybe That Too,’ and ‘My Slutty Wife’s Nudist Holiday.’)

The village of Bacota in Moldova was close to a newly reopened nudist colony’s camping facilities. We rented a trailer for living accommodation at a reasonable price of 35 Euros daily. I thought Brenda could enjoy herself at the nudist campsite while I excavated. Brenda’s idea of a good time is having as much sex as possible; she prefers threesomes, sex with handsome strangers in public places (i.e., bathrooms, telephone booths), or stuffing as many male organs as possible into her roomy orifices. Although she prefers male company, she is not above participating in a lesbian adventure. Brenda says,

“Only a woman knows how to lick a twat.”

Due to its border proximity, Moldova is heavily influenced by the Russian government. The people were scared of Russian interactions and fearful of any Russians who visited the modest resort. Moldova was once a Russian possession and is trying to emerge from the Soviet shadow. Its current president (a woman) has voiced interest in one day joining the European Common Market. Many citizens fear entering the EC would open them to a Soviet invasion, much like what is happening in Ukraine. It is very much a ‘sword of Damocles’ situation.

During our time in Moldova, it was not uncommon to see Russian missiles flying overhead, winging their way to bombard Kyiv and other cities along the Ukraine-Russian border. We heard the supersonic missiles, but they were so fast they remained invisible. Fortunately, none of these missiles fell short and hit us, a fear shared by many inhabitants. Seeing the massive military engagements, I realized that my colleagues’ advice to stay home in Denver was well-considered. Perhaps my enthusiasm for the dig was not worth dying, but we were there, and I decided to make the most of it.

While I spent days working hard with several volunteers from the nearby Moldova State University, scraping the sandy gorge slopes, Brenda was frolicking at the nudist camp like a happy puppy. In the meantime, Brenda’s back and butt were turning a bright red from her naked sunbathing, which didn’t keep her from ‘fooling around’ with a German boy whose penis would qualify for ‘Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.’ When my wife returned home that evening, she leaked sperm from every orifice.

I thought it best to accompany her to the camp shower facility with a bar of soap purchased at the utility store. I got into the shower with her under the water spray and helped wash her down. I used a small rubber vaginal irrigator to get the residual sperm out of her private parts.

Since it was getting late, I suggested we get dinner at the commissary. The restaurant served wood fire broiled Branzino, a tasty local fish seasoned with salt and pepper and stuffed with sauteed onions. After we finished dinner, we returned to our camper and listened to the BBC on our tiny short-wave receiver. Then I massaged Brenda’s back. When my arms were tired, I could see she was still restless.

“Brenda, what is the matter? You seem agitated tonight, not at all sleepy. Talk to me.”

‘Yes, my love, you know me so well, I could never leave you. You give me the freedom to pursue whatever perversions exist, and you never complain or question me.”

“So what is the matter?”

“You know that German boy I pointed out to you, the one watching us in the shower.”

“Yes, he seemed very interested in you. Is that the guy you’ve been fucking?”

“Yes, he is a nice boy, 22 years old, just graduated from Engineering School. He asked me to return to Germany with him.”

“And what did you say?”

“I just giggled and put him off, but he demanded an answer, grabbed me roughly, and practically raped me; he was so angry.”

“Disappointed, I imagine.”

“He is nice, but we have little in common. He is starting employment in a large German auto company, and he knows nothing of art or literature, and his view of minorities was not very wholesome.”

“That’s odd; the younger generation is usually very liberal?”

“Eric is not strikingly handsome as some tourists here are, but his penis is phenomenal. It fills my vag so tightly that I think it is growing inside me. He fucks me so many times in a day that I have to ask him to go anal when my pussy gets sore.”

“That’s unusual for you; I recall when you had too much wine and afterward took on all the men in a coffee bar in Naples, excluding no one.”

“Oh, you are embarrassing me; I was raw and red after that foolish spectacle.’

“You are lucky you didn’t catch anything.”

“I know, it was stupid, but so much fun, and their cocks were all so different.”

“You are what you are, Brenda, a magnificent whore, and just being around you, loving you, fucking you is all I ask. Are you going back to Germany with this big cock Eric?”

“No, Eric would never give me the freedom I require, and anyway, he is leaving in the morning; his last angry sex put an end to it for me.”