Nudist

Sometimes things happen that you don't want to happen. That's bad enough, but it's especially irritating when the whole thing is your fault. Not just because you made a silly error, but because you knew you'd stuffed up and just went on compounding the error.

It all started simply enough. I was sunbathing in my backyard. OK, admittedly I was sunbathing nude, but what the hell? Nobody was overlooking the yard and I wasn't expecting any visitors, so why not?

Now, obviously, if I was sunbathing, it was hot. A bit too hot, I found it after a while, so I went inside to get a cold drink. I poured myself a glass of coke and then wandered around the house, sucking on my straw and making a note of what housework I should be doing. Not that I intended doing it right then, just making a note for future work.

While I was doing this the doorbell rang. I was near the door so naturally enough I opened it to see who it was. It's this kid from the local store, delivering my groceries. Well, when I say kid I guess I should say young man. He was driving around so I knew he was at least eighteen. It's just that he seemed like a kid to me, me being a good year older. Everyone knows women mature faster than men.

I opened the wire door as usual and asked him to take them through to the kitchen for me. Geez, he gave me the strangest look as he walked past; I couldn't understand it. Then, just like that, I could. I was wandering around starkers and had completely overlooked that little fact. The only thing to do was bluff it out.

Actually, it was rather funny. I followed him down to the kitchen and after he put the groceries down he was looking everywhere but at me.

"What's wrong, kid?" I said, probably with a bit of a taunt in my voice. "Haven't you ever seen a nudist before?"

He just shrugged, non-committal, which was probably his smartest move. Then I decided to rub it in a little. The open bottle of coke was still on the table. I quite deliberately picked it up and, turning around, I bent over and put it in the fridge, flashing my pussy at him and silently laughing.

He was flushed and holding the account in his hand. I took it off him and then reached for my purse. Somehow I managed to drop it, requiring me to bend down and pick it up. This time I was side on, so he didn't see my pussy again, but my breasts are fine, and he would have seen the full curve of them as I bent over.

I pulled out the cash for the bill and his tip and handed it to him. He politely thanked me and then, would you believe it, he had the gall to reprimand me.

"You know, ma'am," he said, "you really shouldn't have invited me into the house with you dressed like that. It's most unwise."

That little turd. How dare he reprimand me or give me pointers on how to behave?

"Don't you mean undressed like this," I said sweetly. "It's my house and I'll do what I fucking like. Besides, it's just you and what are you going to do. I'm quite capable of fighting off a man if he gets a bit frisky."

I put a nasty little emphasis on the word man, implying that he didn't count.

"Anyway, you have your money so feel free to leave now."

He politely nodded and turned to go. Then he stopped and turned back to face me. I suspect that he just wanted one last look but no, he wanted to be insulting again.

"Ah, there's milk in with those groceries. Do you want to put that in the fridge before I leave?" he asked, and I couldn't believe how suggestive he made that sound.

Well, I wasn't taking that sort of challenge lying down. Bending over, maybe. I just reached for the milk, lifted it out of the bag and turned and placed it in the fridge.

Big mistake. The next thing I know there's a hand resting on my back and the swine is pushing his cock between my legs. The position I was in I was a sitting duck and he was pushing into me and I couldn't do a damn thing. What was worse, that carrying on naked in front of him had been exciting and had got me aroused and he was pushing in deep a damn sight too easily for my peace of mind.

"You stop that," I squealed at him. "How dare you."

He laughed. The swine actually laughed at me.

"That's your idea of fighting off a man who becomes a little frisky?" he asked. "Ah, how effective do you normally find it?"

"You just take it out," I raged. "Who do you think you are?"

"Um, right now I think I'm the one in the dominant position," he said. "However, seeing you ask so nicely. . ."

With that he whipped his cock out so fast I almost expected to hear it pop like a withdrawn cork. I bounce upright, turning to face him.

"How dare you do such a thing," I yelled, only to find he was ignoring me.

Well, not ignoring me so much as ignoring what I was saying. His hands were on my breasts and he was backing me up to the table.

"OK, we'll try that again," he says. "Let's see if you have any better luck with a frisky man now that you're facing him."

He'd got me leaning back against the table and, looking down, I can see his cock is moving towards me again. This time I could actually see it butting against my slit and pushing its way in.

I pushed at him, trying to make him back up a little, but it was like trying to push a wall. A moving wall that was coming closer, with his cock leading the way. I was reduced to vainly pushing and watching as he demonstrated that his pushing wasn't in vain. He just kept sinking in deeper and once again I was filling up with cock.

"You stop that," I wailed, and he laughed again.

"That's what you said earlier and it didn't work," he pointed out. "What makes you think it will work this time?"

With that he gave a final push and banged fully into me.

"All right," I conceded, glaring at him. "You've made your point. Now take it out."

He looked back at me, smiling and slowly shaking his head. Then he pulled out a little and pushed back in.

"You can't," I protested.

"Wanna bet?" he asked, doing the same little thrust.

His hands came up and closed over my breasts, and he kept on doing those small thrusts.

"Just what are you doing?" I snarled, frustrated.

"Waiting you to get the rhythm so we can get the real action going," he calmly told me, with yet another little hump.

And that was about it for me. He was taking me, like it or not, and when he made that next little thrust I found myself pushing against him. He winked at me, damn him, and gave another small hump to make sure I was moving with him. Unfortunately, I was, and he got down to business.

He pulled back so far that for one hopeful second I thought he was withdrawing. No such luck. He came driving back in with great enthusiasm, and I found myself pushing to meet him.

He started making a big production out of it, damn him, his face alight with silent laughter. He'd draw slowly back and pause for a moment, watching my face. I'd be looking down at his cock, waiting for it to move. If I lifted my gaze to look at him, that's when he'd drive home, with me giving a yelp of some sort and hurriedly pushing to take him.

He just played with me, but each thrust was increasing my arousal and adding to my excitement. I was breathing hard, trying to time his erratic thrusts, not having much success. He was grinning like a maniac and I was glaring at him, furious, before he finally settled down.

He finally did settle down and, oh god, did he start putting in some serious effort. He'd was banging in hard with all the regularity of a metronome, just going bang, bang, bang, and like a well wound metronome he just did not stop.

Did I say that women mature faster than men? Not where a certain person's cock was concerned. It was as old as sin and knew just what it was doing, which was driving me insane with lust. He just went on and on while I frantically bucked beneath him, taking him deep and wanting more, always more.

Why I hadn't already climaxed was a mystery to me. I usually reach that happy stage quite easily, which is fortunate, as some men seem to reach that stage just unzipping. This time the wizardry just did not stop, each thrust lifting me higher but never quite high enough. I wasn't sure if it was deliberate or just natural talent on his part.

I'll tell you this, I got a horrible shock when he suddenly pulled out, leaving me unfinished. I'm like, "What? What? What?" but I couldn't damn well ask him, now could I? Strictly speaking he was doing this against my will and there was no way I could ask for more.

I'm just staring at him and he twirls his finger, indicating I should turn around. I didn't argue. I spun around and leaned against the table.

It seemed he was ready to finish off. His hands came round and clutched onto my breasts, gripping them so firmly that I probably got bruises, while at the same time his cock was charging back into me.

Finishing off was right. He doubled the speed at which he was taking me, driving in hard and deep with every thrust, while I was pushing back hard, welcoming him. He managed to last longer than me. I shrieked and convulsed under him, then his hands tightened even more on my breasts and he was letting loose inside me.

When I collected myself he was still there, which somewhat surprised me. I was still leaning over the table, gasping. I turned my head and managed to look at him.

"I'd better be going," he said, smiling. "More deliveries and all that. Thanks for the tip. It was memorable."

Then he gave me a slap on the bottom and walked out, whistling, leaving me rubbing my bottom. It hadn't exactly been a gentle slap.

Like I said. Things happen, and the only person you have to blame is yourself. One things was for certain. I'd never again open the door while naked.

It's funny how the world conspires to defeat your resolutions. Even while I was making that vow the doorbell rang. I headed towards the door, meaning to stop at my bedroom for a dressing-gown first. I could see through the wire, even if they couldn't see in, and there was a well-dressed young man and woman there. I know Jehovah Witnesses when I see them. I promptly flung open the wire door and said, "Yes?"

Fastest I've ever got rid of those type. With that I closed and locked the door and went out to work on my tan. Naked, damn it.