Paradox

1

"I'm going for a shower." Heather said, as she climbed out of the pool.

"Ok." I replied, watching from my poolside chair. She pushed back her wet dark hair, adjusted her bikini top and padded softly through the open glass doors of our chalet. Although forty, Heather had the body of a thirty year old, with a light brown skin tone that suggested she may be part Spanish. Her breasts were tiny and pert ("My bee stings." She self-consciously called them) and her round behind was just breathtaking. Despite her attractiveness, Heather was not an easy person to like. She had a rather intense character and was liable to brood or sulk for reasons I could never fathom. To be honest I had always been slightly wary of her.

We had spent most of the morning in the pool, more to get some needed relief from the blazing sun than for the actual enjoyment of swimming. The other two members of our group; Jane (my partner) and Tom (Heather's husband), were away for the morning visiting a nearby castle and it's associated village. Heather and I were supposed to be with them but, still feeling the effects of last night's wine and tequila, I had decided to give the sightseeing a miss. After all, holidays are about relaxing, not trudging around with a hangover in the stifling mid-summer heat. I wasn't sure why Heather had stayed here with me, but I did suspect she had something on her mind. Whatever that 'something' may have been, she hadn't felt the need to mention it during the morning.

I decided to close my eyes, slump back in the chair, and maybe drift off to sleep. As I relaxed I turned over the details of the previous night's conversations in my mind. The four of us had been playing some sort of truth or dare board game, a potentially dodgy pastime when all the players are a bit drunk. During a 'confessions' part of the game, Jane told us that at the age of 19, she and her friend, Maggie, had caught Maggie's brother standing naked in front of a full length dressing mirror; he was also masturbating feverishly.

"I couldn't believe it." Laughed Jane. "He didn't stop when he noticed us. He just turned round, stared straight directly at me and then came all over the floor."

"What did you do?" I asked, surprised I hadn't heard this tale before.

"Well, I was too stunned to do anything really, but Maggie totally freaked, she swore at her brother and then rushed me out of the house.* Jane laughed again. " She was so apologetic. Mind you, I'd be fucking apologetic if my brother had just knocked one out in front of my best friend!"

Jane, Tom and I continued to discuss the event with glee, our comments and theories becoming more and more ridiculous. Heather, on the other hand, remained tight lipped. Sitting silently with her legs crossed, she slowly went into one of her broods. After the game had finished, when three of us had calmed down and the sulky Heather had managed to cheer up a bit, I went in to the kitchen to get us all a round of tequilas. Heather joined me moments later, leaning up against the cooker, she crossed her arms and watched me pour the drinks.

"Men are all the same." She announced, giving me a stern look.

"What do you mean." I asked.

"You're always playing with yourselves, wank, wank, wank, that's all you do, it's pathetic."

"Well..." I began, trying to think of a reply that showed her accusation wasn't entirely true.

"I mean it's disgusting," She interrupted, her demeanour becoming slightly aggressive. "It's animal, you haven't evolved beyond those wanking chimps on wildlife programmes!"

The only response I gave was to do my rather impressive chimpanzee impression (I was drunk after all). I then smiled a stupid smile, picked up the tequilas and carried them into the lounge. Passing through the kitchen door I looked back at Heather and saw she was also beginning to a smile.

For the rest of the evening I couldn't help repeatedly glancing over at Heather, our exchange in the kitchen had (strangely you may think) aroused me and I had to concentrate hard on controlling the tell-tale bulge that was growing in my jeans. You see, Heather possessed a paradoxical side to her libido and ever since the day I discovered what that paradox was, she had the unwitting ability to seriously turn me on..

I first met her when I started seeing Jane, and at that time I thought Heather was just a good looking, yet rather short tempered friend of Jane's, but eight years ago, way before she married Tom, Heather had a short relationship with a friend of mine. During this time he told me privately (during yet another drunken evening) that she was 'weird' in bed. From that point my opinion of her changed.

"She loves to see me jerk off," He declared. "And when I say she loves it, I mean she fucking loves it! She goes week at the knees and starts whimpering. But when I talk to her about it, you know, after sex, she just loses her temper and denies that it gets her off. Weird!"

Well, it was I who felt week at the knees. For some reason, I became incredibly horny at the thought of Heather watching while I masturbated in front of her. I desperately wanted to see her knelt before me, 'whimpering' with pleasure as I stroked and pumped my hard, glistening cock. This imagined fantasy plagued me from that day on, and Heather, that unknowing tease, made my torment worse by regularly making barbed comments about "dirty men" and how they are always "wanking". Each time she did this my mouth became dry and my heart would race, not only because I couldn't help but picture her watching me, but also because I thought these slurs disguised a strong and persistent desire that she wouldn't (or couldn't) admit to. The idea was so intoxicating, to have the power to bring out Heather's unbidden lust, despite her intellect's best efforts to deny or suppress it.

2

As I sat beside the pool thinking of Heather's contradictions, I began drifting away to that strange world between sleep and consciousness, my mind swirling with thoughts of what I wanted to show her: those masturbatory scenarios that I've replayed in my head many times. The warm sun on my skin and the distant birdsong gradually coaxed me to the very edge of sleep.

Suddenly I became aware of a shadow falling across my face. I opened my eyes and looked up, Heather was standing very close to me. Her hair, wet from the shower, curled down the side of her face and gently rested upon a deeply tanned shoulder. A large white towel, tucked in at the front, was wrapped tightly around her body. It covered her from just above those small breasts to halfway down her smooth, slightly parted thighs. She looked glorious, Heather's brown skin positively glowed and shone from the contrast caused by the bright white towel. Her mouth was open and she was staring directly at my crotch. It was then that I realized my right hand was resting upon the front of my boxer shorts, but also apparent was the all too obvious bulge caused by my erect cock. I must have been rubbing it against my inner thigh whilst semi-dreaming of Heather. Alarmingly, the head of my prick was almost showing proud from the cotton leg of the boxers. As she stared, her hand toyed pensively with a small silver pendant hanging from her neck.

"Tom rang, he says they won't be back until this evening." She said absently, her gaze remaining fixed on my hand and the stretched material beneath it.

"Oh, right." I said lamely.

My heart was beating fast, and I wondered where this was going, I couldn't tell whether she was staring at my crotch in shock, disgust, or fascination, maybe it was all three? To find out, I swallowed dryly and began pressing my cock gently against my inner left thigh. Heather drew in a quick, wavering breath, then slowly squatted down in front of me, her legs spreading wide apart as she crouched. She then rested her shaking hands softly upon each of my open thighs, her light touch sending a shock of pleasure through me. She lay her head against the side of my left knee and stared intently at the tip of my now fully erect member as it pushed just clear of the boxer shorts. The towel had fallen open from her navel down, revealing her soft pubic hair and below, barely visible, those beautiful, dark pussy lips. I gradually pulled back the boxer's material to uncover as much of my cock as I could, Heather's eyes widened as my veined manhood slid free. I used my palm to push the shaft more firmly against my inner thigh, slowly sliding it up and down. Pre-cum flowed from the head, tracing an arc of wetness across my skin, Heather licked her dry lips and slowly slid her head slightly closer to my cock, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

"Fucking animal!" She said quietly, "Tom would never..." Her voice faltered. "...Never degrade himself in front of me like that."

I wrapped my fingers around my prick and slowly began to move my fist up and down, still keeping the bulbous tip pointing straight at Heather's face. She let out a small groan and once again brought herself slightly closer towards my dripping erection.

"Dirty fucking pervert!" Heather hissed through gritted teeth. Was she talking to me or herself? I wasn't sure.

"I could stop if you want." I teased. Heather's grip on my thighs tightened, as if expressing desperation. Her demeanour changed in an instant.

"No...no don't." She pleaded, briefly looking up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time. God, that needy look was almost enough to make me cum there and then She returned her gaze to my tool and once again licked her drying lips.

"Please, just show me." She begged in a whisper.

As if to urge me on, Heather tugged roughly at the front of her towel. The knot came free and she let it fall from her body, exposing those small, pointed breasts. I drank in the sight of her dark, hard nipples, that shamelessly demonstrated Heather's desire by jutting expectantly from her swollen areola. Perfect as her prim little tits were, I needed no further urging, I had never been so turned on in my life, I was living my fantasy. My cock was now just an inch away from her waiting mouth and parted lips, The slippery wet fluid smothered over my tip intensified the tingling sensation as her hot breath blew across me. Heather took her hand away from my right thigh, and dragged two of her fingers through the drops of pre-cum that ran down the end of my shaft. I caught my breath at her touch. Then, still squatting, she opened her enticing legs even further apart and pressed the lubricated fingers against her crotch..

"Ohhh." She whimpered and began sliding them across her slit, a gentle and careful rubbing that teased out her pink bud. I groaned as I watched her masturbate, my dick so very close to entering her mouth. Then she sped up, her fingers running rough and urgent strokes over her sex. In harmony, I matched her increase in speed and with a quickening pace, pumped my cock harder.

"Dirty slut." I said, remembering what she had called me. "Fuck yourself!"

Startled, Heather suddenly stilled her hand and again looked up into my eyes. Holding my gaze she reached up and slid her two fingers into my mouth, As I sucked and licked them I savoured the bitter sweet taste of her juices. She brought her hand back down and dragged her wet fingertips over her clit, then curled them inwards as she guided them into her pussy. With deliberation, she slowly fucked herself this way, riding across her swollen clit on each hypnotic and extended thrust. The wet, sucking sounds caused by her self-penetration drove me, once again, close to the edge. I had to cease my vigorous fist pumping and began to stroke myself gently instead, lightly caressing my twitching, engorged tip.

"How could you fuck your cunt in front of me like that?" I sneered cruelly at her, now playing the game to the full.

Without flinching from my stinging words, Heather continued to stare deep into my eyes, and with a look of defiance and lust, began to fuck herself faster and deeper, her right hand gripping my left thigh so tightly that her nails dug into my skin. Her open mouth was now so close to my cock head that if she brought her lips together they would close over it. I had stopped stroking my rock hard shaft, I just held it pointing inside her mouth.

"God." I said breathlessly, "You are my wet dream." At my words, Heather began panting, all self-control yielding to her now totally dominant desire.

"Uh...uh...uh...uh." With each short groan her breath pushed urgently over my prick, I could feel the heat inside of her mouth, I could see the passion in her eyes.

The head of my aching cock softly brushed against her quivering lower lip. All the years of fantasizing, of frustration, of yearning erupted at that moment. I moaned and spurted a long jet of cum into her proffered mouth, the second load splashed hard against her lips and chin. She tilted her head back in supplication and the third stream sprayed upwards upon both her waiting face and dark hair.

Heather's orgasm brought out a long animal wail, that rose from deep inside her, she trembled and mewled as I emptied my cock all over her. I watched as my cum ran out of her still open mouth, dripping down and off her chin, splashing upon those golden breasts. Her fingers were a blur as she slammed them mercilessly in and out of her sopping wet pussy. Heather's expressive eyes were now shut tight as the oh-so needed shudders of pleasure and release swept through her.

She collapsed to her knees with exhaustion and took in great gulps of the warm air. After a couple of minutes she opened her eyes and looked at my semi-hard cock, then back up to my eyes. I was smiling fondly at her and she bashfully looked away. I had been revelling at the sight of Heather's face, neck and breasts, all drenched in a slippery mixture of my thick cum and her oily sweat; the erotic proof of my fantasy made real. As I continued to enjoy the pornographic image before me, Heather's mind-set slowly reasserted itself and her facial expression changed from one of endearing coyness to a sort of impassive glower. The smile fell from my lips.

"I'm going for a shower." She said curtly.

Heather stood up, covered herself with the towel, then turned and quickly jogged back to the chalet.

End