Skirts

'Good, well when we get inside you can pop in the bath-room first. I'll need a few minutes to change. Unless you don't want me to.' she added coyly.

'Oh I think you should, for the benefit of both of us.' I replied as I pulled into the resort and headed for our cabin.

So once indoors I did as Vanessa had suggested, hit the bath-room, had a piss and changed into another new pair of the silk boxer shorts. Then slipping into a bath-robe, while she did what she had to do I went downstairs and having turned on the two spot-lights I went across to where she'd asked me to stand, beside the two upturned bean-bags near the foot of the stairs.

Compared with how long it had taken her to change into her bikini she kept me waiting for hardly any time at all, and when she appeared the first thing I noticed was how she was going to cope with the brilliance of the lights, she was wearing her dark glasses. But having quickly registered her smart thinking about that problem I ignored them, because what else she'd done demanded my full attention.

She looked absolutely, mind-bogglingly amazing!

For once the very first thing that caught my eye were her breasts, because although she was wearing a bra it did more to highlight than conceal either their shape or their luscious fullness. It seemed to be made from a grey-black lacy material, so fine that the tone of the rest of what little skin it actually covered showed right through it. And not just the skin, at the tips of those firmly swollen globes I could clearly see the dark red circles surrounding her nipples, each of which was already poking stiffly through the gaps in the lacework.

My eyes lingered longingly on that beautiful and deeply arousing display and as they did I felt both my blood pressure rising and my tongue automatically moistening my suddenly all too dry lips.

But of course no matter how tempting her breasts were my deep-seated fixation soon drew my eyes downward, where I found what was for me an even more stirring show.

I'd no idea where she would have found what she was wearing but it seemed certain she'd bought it just for me, because although it was actually quite different, in many ways it reminded me of what the young dancer had been wearing underneath her skirt that fateful day at my sister's school fete.

It was made of a very similar fabric to the bra, fine grey lace, with black highlights, falling from her waist to mid-way down her thighs. But, unlike the much scantier garment, the skirt-like thing was obviously made of many, many layers of that filmy material. And, unlike her top half, which was virtually naked flesh, her legs were encased in shiny black nylon, with a pair of quite high-heeled, black sling-back shoes completing the picture.

As I stood there staring up at her I felt my body's almost instantaneous responses; felt my cock brushing against the silk as it both lengthened and stiffened, felt my heart beating faster as it pumped even more blood down there, and even as my mouth dried, felt my hands dampen.

Vanessa walked slowly across to the top of the stairs and stood there, and although her eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses I knew she was looking down at me just as intently as I was looking up at her. Then she put the skirt in motion by slowly swaying her hips.

Just that relatively small stimulus was enough to reinforce what was already going on down between my legs, so it's not really surprising that when, while continuing that slow swaying motion she also began to twist herself, adding an upward swirl to the skirt's movement, the effect was dramatic. As the hem of the skirt lifted, exposing more of her nylon clad legs, so did my cock; I felt the pulse of additional blood surging, felt the silk tightening as the rapidly hardening length began pushing firmly against it.

She did no more than that for two or three long minutes, just standing there, swaying and twisting, her dark shaded eyes staring down at my reactions. But then I neither wanted nor needed her to do more than that, and nor did my cock. The view of her nylon sheathed legs, the sensuous swirl of the frothy skirt around them, and the occasional glance at her lace shrouded, yet still proudly upthrusting breasts were more than enough. So by the time she did something different I could tell that my cock had already become fully engorged, feel the deep throbbing pulse, feel the tight friction as it strained to get free of the shorts.

As though she was listening to some internal music she began to move, at first just taking small steps, forward and backward, then from side to side, but of course each one added momentum to the movement of the skirt, lifting it a fraction, exposing a little more leg. Then she added a sudden turn, making the skirt swirl much higher and showing me even more. Then, as though she was copying the dancer from my teen-age years, she did a few more of those, spinning longer and faster, making the skirt lift higher and higher.

I saw things that made my cock surge; saw right up to the very top of her legs, saw from the sharp line delineating black nylon from tanned-looking flesh that she was wearing stockings, not pantyhose, saw the filmy grey-black lace panties that barely concealed the one thing left for me to see.

Sometime during the final spinning turn she must have reached behind herself and unfastened something because as she came to a halt she unwound the skirt and tossed it aside, then just stood there, her legs spread wide apart.

And at that moment she was just about every second man's wet-dream image. A tall, hour-glass shaped brunette, wearing nothing but black nylon stockings and the briefest imaginable bra and panties, standing there wanting her lover to look, wanting him to lust.

And in return simply taking her own pleasure from the sight of his excited arousal.

Her low, hoarsely strained voice finally broke the silent tension that separated us. 'I think the shorts can come off now lover.'

So of course I did as she'd asked, tugged them down off my straining cock, hearing her gasp of delight as I felt it instantly jerk rearingly upright.

Again we both stood there for a while, each totally gripped and captivated by the sight of the other, but then she threw still more fuel on the fire by then burning brightly inside me. Hooking her thumbs in the waist-band of the panties, she pushed them down, and having kicked them away, bent her knees and slowly pushed herself down into a low squat.

Naturally enough my eyes immediately focussed on what until then was the one thing that had been hidden from me, her pussy. By then of course it had become such a familiar sight that at first I didn't really understand what made what I was seeing so different to what I'd expected. Even though I could guess just how excited she'd got the lips were still much redder than I would have imagined they should be. Then when I looked more carefully at the colour I suddenly understood what she'd done. I realised it was the same shade as the cherry-red lipstick I'd been looking at during dinner, she'd used it to highlight those other lips too.

Some time later she pushed herself up again and having taken off the glasses, started coming slowly down the stairs towards me. 'Get up and lie down on the bean-bags darling.' she said in the same throaty voice I'd heard before. And again, without taking my bulging eyes off her, I did as she'd asked.

Seeing what she'd done to her pussy had given me what I hoped was an insight into what she just might have in mind, and what she'd asked me to do just seemed to confirm that. And as the thought of what might be to come turned the inner fire to a raging furnace I felt my cock begin throbbing and jerking even more wildly than it already had been while just staring at her pussy.

She took her time in making the descent, pausing so we both had that much more time to look at each other, using our mutual anticipation of what was still to come to build our already soaring level of excitement even higher. So by the time she eventually reached the floor my entire body was strung out as tight as a bow-string, my ridiculously over-inflated cock rearing quiveringly.

The sight of my condition brought a tight, satisfied smile to Vanessa's face and I watched as she walked slowly towards me, arching my head back down over the edge of the bean-bag as she moved around to stand behind it. Then, spreading her legs as she did so, she edged forward, above me. I realised from the confident way she did it that she must have previously checked out the height, which was almost perfect, once her legs straddled my head I found I would only have to lift it a fraction to reach her with my mouth.

But I didn't waste the opportunity even the short time it took her to position herself gave me to enjoy the sight of her. The cherry-red lipstick made her pussy lips as excitingly inviting as it had her other lips and their already tempting glossiness was enhanced by a sparkling sheen of moisture. Above them, poking almost shyly from underneath its hood, I could see the brighter pink tip of her already stiffened clitoris. Below, streaking the otherwise perfectly smooth skin of her inner thighs, were the tell-tale trails left by the juices that had already trickled from her pussy.

It was clearly obvious that Vanessa was just as feverishly aroused as I was!

She gave a series of breathless gasps when I began to lightly lick those cherry-red lips, but when I tried to reach up and caress her she stopped me, holding my arms down by my side, so I did as she apparently wanted me to, just used my tongue and mouth. The minor disadvantages of that position were far outweighed by its advantages, my head was supported so there was little risk of me tiring, and Vanessa could move herself about so my tongue reached whichever sensitive spot needed its attention. So we remained like that for a while, her breathless gasps steadily increasing in intensity, every so often being interrupted by a much lower, throatier groan of even deeper pleasure.

I don't whether it was because she was watching to see if it really did get bigger when I sucked her pussy, or because she was concentrating too hard on what I was doing for her, but during the time it took me to give her first orgasm she made no move to even touch my cock.

By then every nerve and fibre in it had been stretched to near breaking point by the tension built inside me by Vanessa's lascivious display but even when she did bend forward and pushed her mouth down over it, she then just held herself still.

I'd felt my entire body shudder when her lips slipped down over the head, even the slight friction of her moistly soft lips just lightly grazing just the rim of the head sent electric shock-like thrills coursing right through me. And of course I naturally expected that once there she would start to move her head up and down, start working me up towards my own climax in that way. But she didn't! As I was busy licking her still obviously receptive pussy, and I fully expected that any moment she'd start reciprocating, I waited for a minute or two, but still nothing happened. So, presuming she was wanting me to do what I had done on the cliff top, fuck her mouth, I began moving my hips up and down.

But I'd made no more than a couple of thrusts when she moved her hands up on to my hips and used her weight to stop me, holding me firmly down. Then I felt her mouth sucking me!

She had slipped her lips down into the groove below the head and tightened them, then spacing them a few seconds apart, started sucking hard. If someone had previously told me a woman could do it, take a man to orgasm without making any movement at all, I wouldn't have believed them. Maybe it was only because I was already so wound up by all that had gone before that made it possible, but right then I didn't care.

The sensations were phenomenal, like nothing I'd ever experienced before! And after no more than half a dozen sucks I felt things happening; felt the ache in my balls strengthening as they tightened, felt that indescribable churning pressure building inside me, felt every muscle straining to ram my cock upwards, felt Vanessa holding me even more determinedly down.

And then, within no more than a couple of minutes I felt it coming, and as the rising surge built stronger and higher I clamped my mouth up against Vanessa's pussy and, jamming my tongue as deep as I could get it, tried to suck her just as hard as she was sucking me.

Then the ecstatic wave hit me, and feeling something like a previously blocked release valve on an over-heated pressure vessel, my cock literally exploded!

As the first gout of semen erupted Vanessa seemed able to both swallow and continue sucking, providing a strong enough force to cause the rest of the seething mass of semen to start pumping up out of my overfull balls. Then she worked so hard it felt as though she was somehow applying continuous suction, giving me the sensations I'd always imagined I'd get if I'd had the guts to attach a vacuum cleaner hose to my cock. The muscular contractions came on top of each other so quickly they seemed to merge into one unbroken convulsion of unimaginable power, and it felt as though the scorching loads of semen had formed one massively fountaining jet.

Somehow, even through all that I must have been able to continue sucking Vanessa because even though what she was doing to me totally overwhelmed any sense of how she was responding, I suddenly found my mouth filled with her bitter-sweet fluids, she'd climaxed too.

We continued sucking each other until neither either needed or could physically take any more, then rolling my utterly spent body down on to the floor beside her we lay locked in each other's arms as we both slowly recovered.

'Well that seemed to work very well.' she whispered some time later.

'You're a genius!' I replied, then made her chuckle when I added. 'In more ways than one.'

'I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.'

'I don't think there's a word that adequately describes how I felt darling.' I responded as I pulled her closer and kissed her still semen smeared mouth.

When we finally broke apart I asked her if she'd like me to fetch her bath-robe. 'Yes please, and a scotch would be nice too.'

While I did that she flipped the bean-bags back over and we sat and talked as we slowly sipped our drinks.

'You obviously liked what I found to wear.' she said, adding. 'And now you know why I couldn't go out to dinner in it.'

'And phoning for a pizza wouldn't have worked either, it would have got stone cold.' I replied. 'I loved it, the bra and panties are really, really sexy, and that skirt thing, wow! Where did you get it?'

'By a sheer fluke darling. I went looking for something like it in various shops, but of course underskirts have gone right out of fashion. Then I just happened to pass a shop selling theatrical stuff and although they didn't sell clothing it did give me an idea of where I could look. It's a ballet dancer's skirt.'

'That's amazing, that was the thought that flashed through my head when I saw it. I saw a documentary on TV, showing dancers training and rehearsing, some of them were wearing something like that. But nowhere near as sexily.' I added.

'Well it certainly worked, I could see the result.' she replied.

'And turning these things over, that was a master stroke.' I said, patting the bean-bag beneath me.

'My first thought was to use the coffee table, but I thought these would be more comfortable for you, you might have been less enthusiastic if you'd been lying on something hard. I wanted the hardness above you.' she added with a wicked smile.

'Well you certainly got that. But it was what you did with it, I didn't even know that was possible, I mean just literally sucking me off!'

'Mmm, yes I'm glad that worked, you've not had that done before?'

'No never, what gave you the idea?'

'It was something I heard once, maybe in a movie, they were describing a woman with a reputation for giving great head. Someone said she was so good at it that she could probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose.' she said with a grin. 'When I heard that I thought I'd like to see if I could do something like that, and tonight seemed the perfect opportunity.' she added.

'So you'd never done it before?'

'No, but I don't think it would work unless the guy was already on the brink of coming, as you were by then.' she added dreamily, then pausing before adding. 'But what you did for me was super too.'

'So we make a good team.'

'We certainly do.' she agreed.

Chapter 10

Night

We had a second scotch and sat there talking for half an hour or so before Vanessa said she was ready for bed, but that she'd just go and freshen-up first. 'Wash off the incriminating evidence.' As she put it. And when she'd finished in the bath-room I did the same, washing the caking remains of semen and saliva from my wilted cock and balls.

Then we kissed and cuddled briefly before we both fell asleep.

But although I slept soundly for a few hours my brain must have eventually got around to dealing with what I'd experienced during the day and the resulting dream was both vivid and memorable.

I was lying flat on my back at the bottom of a shallow lake, but even though I somehow knew that, I didn't seem to be drowning. Then when I tried to push myself upright and found I couldn't, I thought I understood what had happened. When I'd lifted myself my head had pressed against something hard and cold, icy cold, the water that had been in the lake had frozen, frozen solid, and it had happened so quickly that it had left an air space beneath it, and that's where I was.

The ice was so crystal clear I could see right through it, see a few overhanging branches of some trees at the edge of the lake, see the blue, cloud dotted sky above me and still providing plenty of light, the low angling rays of a late afternoon's sunshine.

Then I heard the distinctive sharp cutting-hissing sound of skates, there were people, men women and children skating around on the icy surface. I watched as several small groups passed right above me, heard the sound of their happy laughter, saw the flashing feet and legs of young and old. Then, in a space considerately left free for her by the others I saw a solo skater heading towards me, a young woman. Unlike all the rest, who were well rugged-up against the cold, she was dressed for competition, wearing just a figure-hugging outfit with the tiniest of skirts.

She was obviously practising her routine, moving gracefully from one figure to another, sometimes leaping high, sometimes spinning like a top, and sometimes gliding effortlessly through a long, circling turn. Each figure was bringing her just a little closer so she was giving me plenty of time to enjoy the sight of her, and of course because of where I was lying and what she was wearing I could see right up every inch of her long, very long legs.

And they were truly excellent legs, her years of skating had developed lean muscles that firmly but slenderly shaped both her calves and thighs, and the flesh coloured tights she wore did no more than enhance both their length and shape.

Of course I reacted in my usual way to such a display, I felt my heart beating a little faster as my excitement increased, then the familiar draining surge as my cock expanded and slowly rose. And it was only then, when I found that nothing was holding it down, that I realised I was naked.

The young woman came slowly closer, and my cock quickly grew larger and harder. Then she was directly above me, performing a slow, one leg-lifted spin - and at that very moment I saw that what I had taken for flesh coloured tights, was her skin. Apart from the purely decorative short skirt, which in that position hid nothing, she was absolutely naked from the waist down to her skates!