"You'll have to keep Rex here in the cabin, darling," Carson Smith said to his wife. "If the white stag gets the scent of a dog, I'll never get close enough to photograph him."

Catherine turned from the primitive iron stove, where she was making coffee. It was early in the day and she was still wearing only a frilly dressing gown. The slinky garment clung to her body, caressing her smooth flesh. Through the semi-transparent silken material, the dark circles of her tit tips could be seen and, farther down, the triangular outline of her cunt mound was tantalizingly hinted at. But Carson was paying no attention to his seductive wife at the moment. The man was an enthusiastic amateur wildlife photographer and he was anxious to start stalking the elusive white stag that was rumored to roam the forest near the cabin.

This was the first day that they had been there. Carson had rented the rustic cabin for two weeks, hoping to get some pictures of the noble stag and combining a family vacation with his quest, had brought his wife and their son, Tommy, along with their family pet, Rex, the big black Alsatian, to the forest with him. Now Carson was already dressed, wearing a flannel shirt and corduroy trousers and sturdy walking shoes, his camera slung around his neck. Catherine gave him a look of annoyance. They had arrived late and weary, the night before, and had not had their usual bedtime fuck. Carson had already been up by the time that Catherine awoke so she hadn't had a morning fuck, either, and the oversexed blonde woman was feeling horny.

Tommy had already gone out to explore the woods and, with the cabin to themselves, Catherine had been hoping for some prick. She arched her back, thrusting her big tits out temptingly toward Carson and giving her lush hips a suggestive twist. But Carson was so eager to seek the stag that he failed to notice his wife.