Beilager Point – Virgin Paradise by WetDick4Me
Dive into “Beilager Point – Virgin Paradise” by WetDick4Me, a tantalizing tale where desire ignites and fantasies come alive. Follow the captivating journey of exploration and passion in an enchanting setting that promises to awaken every sense. Experience the thrill of new encounters and discover the allure of uncharted pleasures. Indulge your curiosity and immerse yourself in this steamy adventure today!
A note from the author. All characters in this story are fictional and not based on any real person or event. This story may be offensive to anyone who does not want to read about a mother figure (not the young man’s actual mother) introducing a young man to sex and love. The story begins with some background information relating to two boys under the age of 18. While the story does reference minors, it does not include any sexual activity involving minors. The story does take some time to develop…
Brian has been my best friend since the third grade. We have been pretty much inseparable since we first met while camping deep in the wilderness. It turns out that both of our families enjoyed off grid camping, as far from civilization as possible where Mother Nature sets the rules and defines appropriate conduct.
Brian’s mom, Mrs. Henderson is a nurse and an incredibly beautiful woman. Her first name is Elizabeth, or Liz as she prefers to be addressed, but I have always called her Mrs. H. Brian and I are almost the same age, my birthday in January and his in February. Growing up, Mrs. H and my mom were remarkably close and spent a lot of time together, which allowed Brian and I to spend a lot of time together. We were both just eleven when my mom tragically died in a car accident. It was devastating for me and my dad, especially since I was an only child. It also took a toll on Mrs. H.
To make matters worse, about a year later, Mr. and Mrs. H got divorced. I always thought Mr. H was kind of an ass, but I know Brian loved him very much. It wasn’t until many years later that I found out that he was a cheating bastard, and that Mrs. H walked in on him with his pathetic dick buried deep inside his secretary. I must give credit to Mrs. H though; she never said a negative thing about him in front of Brian.
After their divorce, Brian and I plotted to get my dad and Mrs. H together. It almost worked too. They dated a couple of times, but neither of them was ready for new love. They are still friends, but do not see much of each other anymore. I guess my dad does not see much of anyone anymore. He spends most of his time working and has really pulled away from everyone. I don’t know if my dad will ever get over the death of my mom.
My parents were just children when they first met. As my mom would tell the story, they first met each other by chance when their families were hiking through the same remote camping area where I first met Brian and his family. Even though they were very young at the time, she would swear that it was love at first sight. She would talk about the two of them trekking through the the vast wilderness hand-in-hand while the animals of the forest looked on. She always had the biggest smile on her face when she talked about that place. By the sounds of it, the summer after they both graduated high school, my parents spent a week together up there. A week which marked the loss of their virginity and the conception of their one and only child.
The summer before I started third grade, my parents and I set up camp in our normal spot. Over the years they had established a crude camp that included a rock fire pit, some log benches and table, and enough clear level ground to set up a couple of tents. Fresh water was close by where a natural stream trickled into a beautiful lake. Every time we visited that spot, it was apparent that other people had used it as well, but we had never encountered other people while we were up there. Well, not until that special summer.
That summer holds a distinct place mark in my memory bank because it was the first time I saw a real-life angel. Once our tents were up and the camp had been prepared, the three of us headed toward the lake for a swim. As we approached a small clearing just off the main trail, we spotted another camp. I can remember my mother calling out, “Hello, hello, anyone here?” There was no response. We hiked a little farther until we came to the edge of the peaceful lake. It was then that I spotted Mrs. H sunbathing next to the water. She was absolutely beautiful.
Mrs. H just smiled and welcomed us to join her. “My husband and son are off hiking somewhere,” she informed us. All I can remember is that I couldn’t take my eyes off this angelic lady. It wasn’t like I had never seen a pretty woman in a bikini before, but for some reason this particular woman just seemed special. My dad gave me a tap on the shoulder and quietly reminded me that it wasn’t polite to stare. When I looked over at my mother, she seemed to be mesmerized by the beauty of this lovely stranger as well. My dad gave my mom a slap on the butt to bring her out of her trance. I vividly recall how red my moms face turned when she realized that she had been caught staring.
The six of us spent the next week getting to know each other. Brian and I explored every trail we could find. Our dads mostly hung out at the camp, and our moms spent most of the week down by the lake. For some reason, that was the most memorable camping trip of my young life.
For the next several years, our families were inseparable and spent a great deal of time together camping in the wilderness. Every summer, the six of us spent a week at Beilager Point. The parents each in their own tent and Brian and I slept in a third tent. Brian and I would whisper and giggle every night as we listened to the sounds of passion coming from the other two tents. Everyone was just so free up there, everything just seemed so natural.
Growing up, I always found it interesting that Mrs. H seemed so normal to me, just another friend of my mom’s, except when we were at Beilager Point. When she was up there, she just seemed different, special. I can remember Brian saying the same thing about my mom. He would comment on the glow she had on her face. I never saw it in my own mom, but I sure did with Mrs. H. Perhaps it was just the fact that both women felt so connected to nature up there.
While my mom and Mrs. H refrained from nude sunbathing in our presence, it was clearly evident that neither of them had any tan lines after our week at Beilager Point. This natural environment just seemed to encourage our mothers to embrace the raw energy of nature together. Our dads seemed oblivious to the special bond that was forming between these two women, but certainly reaped the benefits after we all turned in for the night.
That all changed after mom died. My dad just seemed to pull back from the world, and I spent a great deal of time at the Henderson’s. It got to the point that I was spending more nights there than at my own house. Dad seemed fine with it, and after Mr. H left the scene, I think Mrs. H appreciated having another “man” around. Unfortunately, our wilderness adventures came to an end as sports and school events took over our lives. Beilager Point was just a fading memory.
Puberty is an incredibly confusing time for young people. The fact that Mrs. H was a nurse seemed to make things much easier. I do not think I could have had such candid conversations about the changes that were happening to my body or the feelings and thoughts that flooded my mind with my own mother or father, but it seemed easy to breach those delicate topics with her. We could talk for hours about anything. When I was around Mrs. H, I felt more like the man of the house than just a kid she was helping to look after.
Mrs. H was just plain cool. In fact, it was her that gave Brian and I “the talk.” Her medical background allowed her to answer all of our questions about girls and sex without hesitation. Her advice was always straightforward and sincere. She always emphasized the importance of taking things slowly when it came to girls and sex. Later, she would modify her advice to include boys since it was becoming increasingly evident that Brian had no interest in girls.
Over the next several years, Mrs. H always seemed to have the right answers to my romance questions. Her words of wisdom taught me that a generous lover will always make sure that the needs of his partner are fully met before attending to his own. A conscientious lover will always ask questions and respect the given answers. A sensitive lover will always be gentle and kind. A strong lover will understand when a woman needs her man to take charge. A dedicated lover will understand wether his partner needs a gentle touch or strong grip, sometimes both.
At some point during high school, I moved into their house full time. It only made sense since she was driving both Brian and I to school every day on her way to work anyway. By then, I had my own bedroom and felt very comfortable living with them. Mrs. H seemed to be getting more comfortable as well. She was certainly not a prude, but never overtly sexual either. I just remember that she always seemed so comfortable just being herself.
I distinctly remember that January, the year I turned eighteen. I guess I didn’t put two and two together right away, but looking back, her entire demeanor changed after my eighteenth birthday. She had always dressed fairly conservatively but suddenly wasn’t afraid to ditch the bra at the end of a long day. After dinner, she would change into her sleep attire and kick back in front of the TV each night before turning in for the evening. I have to say, I found myself watching a lot of TV after that. Her sleep attire generally consisted of a long thin nightshirt and a pair of panties. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that her sleepwear did not include a bra. The thin material of her nightshirts left little to the imagination, and her prominent nipples were often visible, albeit fully covered by the fabric. My eyes spent a lot of time trying to sneak a peek at those wily nipples without getting caught. Mrs. H would just smile when she noticed me staring, and signal with her fingers, you know that split finger, her eyes, my eyes, her eyes motion. I could always see a slight grin on her face after she corrected me.
Leave a Reply