Sinful Sunday Shenanigans

Part I - The Beach

My wife, Sandra, was attending a Real Estate seminar and I had been alone since the previous afternoon. I was feeling sorry for myself, because it was my birthday and I was all alone in the big old house. I was wondering how to pass time on this long, lonely Sunday when our friend Erica phoned and invited me to the beach. Sandra and Erica went to college together and over the years Erica has almost become part of our household. She is always full ofjoie de vivreand fun to be around.

"It's such a lovely morning. Don't waste it by sitting at home moping, I don't want to go alone," she said to convince me. We arranged for me to pick her up at her apartment. We were both reasonably sure that Sandra wouldn't have a problem with me going to the beach with her best friend. The only thing she would be jealous about, was the fact that she would not be able to accompany us.

I dressed in an old pair of board shorts, dumped a few beers in the cooler, emptied my ice trays over them, grabbed a beach towel and left the house.

She was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her apartment; two deckchairs, a beach umbrella, a cooler and a towel were piled in a colorful heap at her feet. I could not keep my eyes off her long, smooth, tanned legs. She was wearing a very tiny pair of denim cut-offs – ones that revealed the bottom of her tight little buns - and a tight tank top accentuating her firm breasts. There could be no doubt that she was a voluptuous woman.

My thoughts went back to conversations Sandra and I had had about Erica. She once asked me if I found Erica attractive and I answered, "Yes," because it was true. Sandra confided that she shared my opinion. Immediately these thoughts now made me feel guilty, and I tried thinking of something else.

I helped her load the beach baggage and she hugged me and gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Oh yeah, congratulations on your birthday."

"Thanks," was all I could say before she continued.

"It's gonna be great. It is such a lovely morning, ideal beach weather. Thanks for agreeing to go with," she enthused as we bundled all the stuff into the trunk.

The streets were still quiet this early and we made good time. When we had traveled for a while, I said, "Thanks for the invitation. You're right, it's a great day. If I'd stayed home, I probably would have worked all day. Some way to celebrate your birthday, huh?"

"That would've been no fun at all. Don't worry, I promise that you will enjoy today. Really," she answered and flashed a knowing smile at me.

"Too bad Sandra's out of town. She would enjoy the day at the beach too." Although I convinced my self earlier that the outing was innocent enough, I still felt guilty about accompanying an attractive, unmarried woman to the beach, while my wife most probably sat listening to a bunch of self-centered real estate agents sing their own praise.

Although I've known Erica as long as I've known my wife, I still felt uncomfortable being alone with her. She radiates a sensuality that makes you doubt your restraint. My only consolation was that I had never had reason to cheat on Sandra, as she was an absolute tiger in bed and kept me more than satisfied. The other sobering thought was that Erica would probably kick me in the nuts if I came onto her – before telling Sandra about my infidelities.

"Park over there, across from the little pizza place. I know a nice spot close by," Erica broke my reverie, and I realized that we had arrived.

The beach, except for a few dog walkers, was relatively deserted, and we found a nice spot and quickly made ourselves at home. I placed the coolers in the shade under the umbrella and I opened two cold beers even before sitting down and handed her one. "Thanks," she smiled.

"Cheers. Here's to a great day at the beach," I answered. I stood watching her as she took the first sip – head back and eyes closed. A drop of moisture ran down her chin and neck and came to a stop on the slope of her breasts amongst the light dusting of freckles. I felt my cock stir beneath the thin material of my shorts.

Irritated by the sudden betrayal of my body, I placed the beer in the sand next to me and jumped up. "Let's go and test the water," I called over my shoulder and started walking towards the surf without waiting for her. I didn't dare to turn around. Why was I reacting in this way? This was supposed to be a perfectly normal day at the beach with a friend.

"Whoa, wait up." She ran and when she caught up hooked her arm through mine. I was conscious of the heat and form of her soft breast against my biceps and I was hoping that she wouldn't look down, as I had a monumental erection which pointed at the ocean like a divining rod.

"Come," I grabbed her hand and ran into the breaking surf, diving through the first few breakers. I couldn't keep my eyes off her; every time she emerged from the surf like a nymph - with water cascading from her auburn hair, over her shoulders and tits, her dark nipples were silhouetted and pushed against the thin material of her white bikini top. My own embarrassment was thankfully covered by the hip-deep water, as not even the shock of the cold water could diminish my erection.

We played like kids, chasing each other and splashing water. Once, she miscalculated and I caught her in an embrace from behind. My stiff cock momentarily brushed against her ass and I quickly pushed away. She turned around – seemingly unaware – and started splashing water at me again, as if nothing had happened.

"Enough," I spluttered and started wading ashore against the tide. I sank down onto the deck chair and immediately covered my crotch with a towel. I was confused by my reactions; it's not as if I haven't seen Erica in a bikini before, as she often joined us at home for a pool party.

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur, while the sun baked down and we drank beer.

"I'm going for another swim, join me?" Erica said later.

"Naw, I'm too lazy, you go ahead. I'll just lie here and enjoy the view." I couldn't trust my own body's reactions yet and didn't want another embarrassing moment with my dick sticking out like a battering ram.

"Enjoy the view, you say. Which view did you have in mind, exactly?" She teased.

"Uhm, you know – the beach, and the surf. C'mon, you're not seriously thinking that I'm ogling you, are you?" I answered in an indignant tone.

"Okay, suit yourself. Enjoy the view," she laughed and walked towards the breakers.

I sat and enjoyed the view, which included watching her cute butt as it jiggled beneath the thin white material of her skimpy bikini panty.

Most of the morning we just lay chatting and we found that we shared many common interests such as books and paintings. I found that I really enjoyed having an intelligent, platonic conversation with a beautiful woman, and it didn't have to be my wife. Unconsciously, or perhaps too consciously, neither of us mentioned Sandra, and for a while, I must admit, I actually forgot about her.

"Let's go and have some pizza for lunch, my treat," she said around noon. "I'm famished and there's that place just across the road."

I agreed as I could feel the beers affecting me and I remembered that in my haste, I forgot to have breakfast. "Deal, but I pay for the wine, okay?"

"Deal," she smiled and got up. She pulled the tank top over her head and I had the opportunity while her face was hidden, to unabashedly study her. With her arms akimbo, her beautiful breasts thrust proudly upward. The nipples were still erect and visible through the thin material and I wondered what they looked like naked, and how they would feel in my mouth. Her stomach was flat and a small silver dolphin swung from her naval ring. My gaze took in her full, female hips and then focused on the hillock of her Mons Venus, where the damp cloth of her bikini panty suggested the slit of her pussy. Funny how I can hardly remember where I left my reading glasses last night, but I can clearly remember that there was not a hint of pubic hair in the soft skin of around the edge of the tiny bikini panty.

I had the gritty towel bundled into my lap by the time she finished dressing, but she looked at me knowingly with her emerald-green eyes. Not only was there a lump in my shorts – mercifully covered by the towel – but also in my throat. I cleared my throat and she smiled archly while she combed her damp hair with her fingers.

The restaurant was busy, but we found a table in a secluded corner on the deck under some Bougainvillea. Soon we were wolfing down chunks of Pizza Marinara and chasing it with glasses of cheap Chardonnay. We were hungrier than we had thought. A feeling of contentment washed over me and I ascribed this to the combination of surf, sun and alcohol.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, I felt her foot between my legs and her toe caressing my bulging cock. I almost choked on my wine and she threw her head back and laughed. I was stunned into speechlessness.

"Seems as if it jumps to attention often and readily, huh? Do you like it when I do that?" She asked innocently while hiding her knowing smile behind the rim of her wine glass, while her toes continued their ministrations. I thought that the answer was rather evident.

After clearing my throat, I answered hoarsely, "Fuck, Erica, you drive me crazy." The words had left my mouth before I could stop them.

This time she laughed at my discomfort. "Hey, I didn't know that grown men still blushed. At least you don't beat about the bush."

I enjoyed her attention – that was abundantly clear – but I was angry about the helpless feelings that washed over me because I knew that she was in control. To crown it all, she also knew she was in control.

"I... We should be going; I still have a report..."

"C'mon, how about some more wine? It's still early," she interrupted and without waiting for an answer, she called a waitress over, "Another bottle of Chardonnay please."

Meanwhile her foot had found its way inside the leg of my shorts. Because I hate the feeling of sand in my underpants, I wasn't wearing any and her toe touched my naked cock.

"I like your reaction," she said.

"Stop! Someone might see."

"C'mon, we – all three of us," she pinched my cock between her agile toes, "know that you enjoy it." I couldn't argue, I'd been betrayed by my body again. Admitting defeat, I opened my legs for easier access, hardly noticing the waitress, who had returned with the second bottle of wine.

Much later, with a dull throbbing in my crotch, we returned to the car. It was damned hot inside and I opened the windows to allow cool air to circulate before we pulled away. After we had been driving for a while, she placed her hand on my bulging crotch and whispered in my ear, "I wanna suck your cock. Now."

"And if I roll the fucking vehicle?" I could already visualize it – there I was, flat on my back in the road next to the overturned car with a world-class hard on.

"Don't worry, you won't. Just keep both hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road and leave the rest to me," she admonished. Her fingers expertly fished my cock from the top of my shorts. A drop of clear precum oozed from the head and rolled down over her slim hand. "Mmm, looks delish – dessert," she said and licked her lips.

Erica kneeled on the passenger seat and bent forward. I felt her breath on the shiny-wet, purple head of my cock, just before she enveloped it with her soft, warm mouth. She sucked it deep into her mouth and then she played her tongue across the head, licking at the moisture while her clenched fist moved skillfully up and down my shaft. I looked down, but could not see the action, as it was hidden by her lustrous hair.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you carry on," I warned in a hoarse voice.

I wanted to cum in her mouth, but I didn't say it. As if reading my mind, she looked up at me with those lovely green eyes and smiled, "Cum then. Cum in my mouth, I want to taste your cum." She bent forward again and continued blowing me. Oh fuck, this was heavenly.

"Oh, I... I'm cumming..." I muttered while my hand convulsively grabbed at her hair and I lifted my crotch from the seat as I felt the orgasm building in my loins. My warm seed shot down her throat in several pulsating bursts. After the final spasm, she continued licking the last traces of sperm from my cock and when she lifted her head she opened her mouth to show me the glistening white blob of jizz lying in the hollow of her tongue. Erica winked and swallowed it down with a content smile before licking her wet lips.

"Do you like..." I didn't quite know how to say it without it sounding cheap; without spoiling the intimacy of the moment. I remained quiet for a while and tried to organize my thoughts before asking, "Do you like it?"

"Giving head or the taste of cum?" She asked innocently. How could she say it so offhandedly?

It was evident that she liked sucking dick, so I answered, "Uhm... the taste of cum."

"Wow, yeah! A lot. Like I said earlier - dessert. The taste of fresh cum makes me totally fucking horny, and my pussy, sopping wet. "

My cock, still encircled by her fist, again throbbed excitedly. She felt it and gave it an affectionate squeeze before carefully – almost reverently – returning it to my shorts. I was staring down the road, but I could feel her frank gaze. Knowing that I probably looked as guilty as I felt, I wanted to avoid eye contact. How could she be so confident and blasé about the whole thing? Neither of us said anything until we stopped in front of her apartment. What would we have said?

The car had barely come to a complete stop before she jumped out. "Thanks for a very nice day."

"You're welcome," I mumbled almost inaudibly as I stepped from the car – too conscious of the pleasurable numbness and the throbbing pulse in my crotch – and clumsily started helping her unpack the trunk.

"You coming in for coffee?" Erica asked over her shoulder and set off towards the door without waiting for my answer.

Speechless, with a deck chair under each arm and a damp spot on my shorts, I followed.

Part II – Sensual shower and oral pleasure

After the heat of the sun – and our little heated car ride – it was pleasantly cool in the apartment.

"Oh, just dump all the stuff in the dining room," she called as she disappeared down the passage. I leaned the deck chairs against the wall and as I straightened, I felt curiously light-headed. I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the fact that most of my blood was pulsing through my loins. Erica's invitation for coffee suddenly sounded good.

There was an old copy ofCosmo on the dining room table and I idly paged through it while waiting for her. I heard the slap of her bare feet on the cool tiles and when I looked up, she was standing in front of me, naked. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Would you also like to take a shower?" she asked, while staring me straight in the eye, as if challenging me to look away. I just couldn't; my gaze was riveted to on the almost hairless plump promise of her pussy

My cock was coming alive again. "Erica, I really have to be going..." I protested weakly, pointing at the door.

"Aw, c'mon, I know you like what you see. Come shower with me; you can touch it while you wash me," she held out her hand. Her soft voice was almost inaudible above the roaring in my ears. I was acutely aware of the hammering pulse in my crotch. Somewhere, far-off, I heard a siren, but it sounded as if it emanated from another planet. I put the magazine on the table and somewhat unsure, stepped closer, my gaze never leaving her lovely, inviting green eyes.

The shower cubicle was too small for two and we had to take turns standing under the warm jets of water. She started washing me, first: my shoulders; my chest; stomach; arms and then my rigid cock – which she gently covered with soap. She expertly pulled the foreskin far back and washed the sticky head before rubbing her hand up and down along the length of the shaft. Soon my cock was covered in a thick lather. She looked me in the eye and said, "Like Xaviera Hollander said:If you don't keep it clean as a whistle, it won't get blown... "

My answer was a contented groan and I wondered how she knew about Xaviera Hollander. I knew that she didn't run a column in Cosmo – at least not the last time I looked.

"Now my turn," she whispered as she handed me the bar of soap. She turned her back to me and I started washing her neck and shoulders. "Ouch!"

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" I asked in alarm and stopped washing.

"No, carry on. I think the sun was more severe than I thought. You'll have to rub my back with some after-sun lotion when we're through showering."

I resumed washing: first her lower back and then with both hands, the swelling of her hips and then her tight ass. When my fingers approached the crease of her ass, she spread her legs wider and I accepted the wordless invitation. My hand slid between her ass cheeks and touched the rosebud of her sphincter; paused to feel the puckered flower and then continued its journey between her spread legs.

Through the soapy lather, I felt a different, slicker wetness and my middle finger sank effortlessly between her cunt lips. She groaned and pushed with her ass against my turgid cock. My other hand encircled her and I started washing her tits; first one – kneading the hard nipple between my fingers - and then the other.

"Oh fuck, you are making me so hot! Feel how wet my pussy is," Erica breathed and turned her head to me. I kissed her and felt her urgent tongue exploring my mouth. Talk about hot, I thought while my stiff cock pushed into her butt cheeks.

After the shower, we went to her room. She had handed me the after-sun gel, and lay across the bed on her stomach. Once more, I admired the curves of her body, from where the valley of her tanned back went over to the perfect hillocks of her smooth ass and then down across silky, firm thighs.

I squirted a big blob of blue gel into my hand and kneeled on the bed next to her.

"Brrr," she shivered as I started rubbing the cool gel over her back and I could feel the goose bumps under my fingers. I spread the gel evenly over her whole back and up the slope of her ass. "Hey, I didn't tan there," she giggled.

"I know, but they're so fucking beautiful, I can't help myself," I answered. I started by rubbing her thighs, just above the knees and worked upwards towards her ass, where my thumbs caressed the crease below each butt cheek. Again, she groaned in contentment and spread her legs. Her deep-pink, shaved pussy peeped invitingly from the junction of her thighs. I was mesmerized by the sight and suddenly all my previous misgivings about this little tryst evaporated. I wanted her and I wanted her now! I whispered crassly: "Erica, I wanna fuck you."

She turned onto her side and smiled. There was unbridled lust in her emerald eyes. "I thought you were never gonna ask, but first I want you to eat my pussy. Sandra says you really know how to eat a girl."

I went rigid. Did my wife discuss our sex life with Erica? Erica noticed my distress and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. It's just that she couldn't stop telling me how good you are and I thought... I wanted... I want to experience it for myself." She looked at me pleadingly and placed a hand on my cheek.

"Well, okay then," I answered with confidence as my male ego returned. I turned her onto her back, lifted her legs and roughly pressed her knees up against her tits. She was now completely vulnerable and accessible.

Again, I sat and stared at her perfect body. Her lovely ass was spread wide, her asshole a soft wrinkled pink-brown and above it her eager pussy bloomed, inner lips swollen with excitement. Her clit peeked from its hood like a tiny soldier at attention. The soft skin around this lovely picture did not even show a hint of pubic hair.