Are You Staring at My Ass? Ch. 04-06

It's been a bit of a gap since the last installment, so I'd recommend recapping on the previous chapters.

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Chapter 4

I awoke the next day to warm sunlight streaming onto my face lying in Charlotte's spare room. The erotic events of the previous evening were fresh in my mind and in my cock, which felt like it had been painfully erect the whole night. I was contemplating whether I should take care of this immediately and how much mess it would make when I heard Charlotte moving around the flat. A short time later her smiling face appeared at the door holding a coffee in her hand.

"Well good morning!" she said cheerily. "I had an amazing sleep last night. I've even brought you a nice freshly filtered coffee. I am a perfect host," she said congratulating herself.

Charlotte bouncing in the room irked me slightly. I might have had a better night's sleep if my throbbing dick hadn't woken me up. My irritation soon passed as Charlotte's long legs moved towards me. She was wearing a Strokes t-shirt that came down to her thighs which invited the question as to whether she was wearing anything else underneath it. I remember the night when we had been to see the Strokes in concert, and she bought the t-shirt. It was just after the support band finished that she told me she had met Paul and she really liked him. I had been thinking of making a move and subsequently spent much of the night sulking. Like everything Charlotte did I was left wondering whether that t-shirt was a deliberate choice or had just been at the top of her drawer.

As Charlotte bent forwards and laid the cup on the table beside the bed the t-shirt rode up just covering her arse. I was too drowsy to make any attempt to pretend where my eyes were fixed on. Charlotte looked at me and raised her eyebrows. "Now." she said. "I am going to start getting annoyed if I have to keep telling you its OK to touch me. I don't want you spoiling the game. Tell me what it is you're thinking, no let me guess." Charlotte stood directly next to where I was lying. "So, I think you're wondering whether I'm wearing any knickers. And if I were you, I would want to find out by putting my hand underneath the t-shirt and feeling my bum. I also think you are a bit scared that if you do that, I'm going to get cross with you. So, I'm telling you know so there is no doubt that if you want to see or touch my body then it's fine."

Still lying on my back, I reached out my hand and placed it on the back of Charlotte's knee. "That tickles!" she laughed as I slowly moved my hands up her leg feeling her smooth, silky skin. I reached the curve of her gloriously plump buttocks without meeting any fabric.

"No knickers." I said, somewhat redundantly.

"No knickers." Charlotte repeated. "Because despite having an excellent night's sleep, my cunt needs some attention. As you did such a good job last night, I thought I'd give you first refusal this morning."

My hand drifted between her legs which were slickly moist. Charlotte pushed me down flat on the bed and mounting the bed straddled me. She inched forwards until her pussy was directly over my head and paused.

"Is that a satisfactory view?" she enquired.

In front of my face was Charlotte's neat pussy, her legs either side of my body were gently pushing out her inner lips and I could see just the protrusion of her clitoris. She slowly lowered her body as I put out my tongue and I contacted the earthy scent as Charlotte placed her pussy on my face. Grasping her arse, I got to work keeping a gentle but firm rhythm as I steadily increased her arousal. I could feel the gradual build up as I held Charlotte's body, occasionally I could feel her try and grind herself against my face, but for once I was setting the pace of how quickly she would reach a climax. Charlotte was by now very wet. I momentarily rested my tongue and continued with my fingers slowly increasing the pace. I returned to using my tongue and used my slippery fingers to apply some light pressure to the entrance of Charlotte's rosebud. She gasped and gripped hard on the bedstead as the simultaneous stimulation of her arse and pussy drove her over the edge into a powerful climax. At that point I lost control as she ground herself against my mouth for stimulation, smearing my face with her juices as she bucked while the orgasm ripped through her body. Eventually her contractions subsided, and she shuffled back and lay on top of me.

"I just came all over your face." Charlotte said breathlessly. "I gave you a facial." she seemed pleased with this. She then placed her lips on mine and gave me a deep and wholly erotic tongue kiss. My cock which had remained entirely hard for this whole period was lodged between Charlotte's legs against her pussy, only the fabric of my boxer shorts preventing me from entering her.

"Mmm, that feels nice!" she said. "Have I turned you on? You seem to have a hard cock."

"You know you turn me on." I said. "And my cock is hard because I've spent the last 12 hours sucking your cunt. Maybe there could be some cock sucking as well?"

Charlotte kissed me deeply again. "I'm sorry." she said while slowly grinding her crotch against my cock. "But we're not quite ready for that yet. Soon." she rolled over and let me spoon her, holding her small breasts while we drifted off into a brief doze. We woke about an hour later. "I need to get moving." Charlotte said regretfully. "I'm going to take a shower. Would you like to watch me?"

Obviously watching Charlotte in the shower was something I was interested in, so I followed her into the bathroom, with my cock comically tenting out the front on my boxer shorts; still erect but now also with a strong need to urinate. Charlotte shrugged the t-shirt off and stepped under the shower. She chatted away amiably about her plans for the day as though it was perfectly normal to be showering in front of a male friend. After a while the combination of watching her soap her body while the jets of water cascaded over her the pleasant roundness of her arse, coupled with a now overwhelming need to urinate caused me to lose a bit of focus on what Charlotte was actually saying.

"Are you actually listening to me?" Charlotte enquired.

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted." I said. "I actually really need to go to the toilet."

"It's OK, I've seen a man go for a wee before. In fact, I quite enjoy watching. There's no need to be shy."

"Well, the thing is, now my dick is pointing in a different direction to the toilet. I think the chances of an accurate aim are pretty slim."

"That is a problem!" Charlotte chuckled. "And what are you proposing as a solution?"

I stood up in the bathroom with my cock tenting hard. "I don't have a solution," I said. "But I'm actually in quite a bit of discomfort."

"I thought you were a smart person," Charlotte said. "But it seems you need me to sort things out. Men really aren't very resourceful. Come here."

I shuffled over to the edge of the bath where Charlotte was standing underneath the shower. She reached across and pulling my boxer shorts down released my cock which pinged against my stomach with a resounding slap. Charlotte took a long stare at my dick which continued to throb angrily.

"That's a nice dick." she said. "And it's very hard." she looked at me expectantly.

"I still don't know what you want me to do?" I said.

"Jesus, the shower is on, just piss in the bath, it will all wash away in no time." Charlotte said.

"You want me to piss in the bath?"

"I want to put you out of your misery and seeing as how I don't think you are going to get it all in the only toilet in the flat, this seems the most practical solution." By this point I really was struggling to stop my bladder from bursting. Any nervousness I might have felt was superseded by the overwhelming desire I felt to urinate. Pointing my dick into the shower I let forth a powerful jet of urine which sprayed across the bath onto the tiled wall opposite.

"Wow!" said Charlotte. "That's a powerful jet you got going there." She reached down and squeezed my cock as I continued to piss. "I love the feeling of holding a pissing cock." She released my cock and then crouched in front of me directing the flow over her chest. "That feels nice," said Charlotte as she leant back onto the edge of the bath with the piss now squirting over her shoulder. "I think you're going to have to aim."

I grabbed my dick and aimed the flow across Charlotte's shoulders and watched my urine drip down across her erect nipples. Charlotte looked me directly in the eye and without saying anything opened her mouth and smiled at me. As if on autopilot I adjusted my aim until I was pissing directly onto Charlotte's face and then into her mouth. The flow of pee gradually subsided across her chin and over her breasts before dwindling into nothing. Charlotte dribbled the remnants of my pee out of her mouth and down her body. She stood up and rinsed her body down.

"I think we've fixed that little problem at least," she said. "Trust a girl to sort out a man's problem." She stepped out the shower and grabbed a towel. "All yours," she said as she gave my arse a firm slap and sashayed out of the bathroom door. I showered quickly and dressed and emerged to find Charlotte drinking a coffee and eating a piece of toast while reading a copy of The Times.

"I made you some scrambled eggs," she said. "But I've got to run as I'm meeting some friends at 11. You can let yourself out if that's OK. No rush." This was fine with me; my legs were still a little shaky and having just pissed all over my best friend I felt I needed to digest events before taking on the day.

"I think we had some fun," said Charlotte with faux innocence as she pulled her coat on. "I reckon you have more fun with me, than drinking with your male friends." Before she left the flat, she walked over and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. "You're working out very well you know. It's my birthday in two weeks time. I'm going to have a nice dinner to celebrate and I'd like you to come. I'll see you later, don't get into any trouble without me!" The door slammed and I was left alone with my scrambled eggs and The Times crossword.

About 15 minutes later a beep from my phone indicated I had a message. It was from Charlotte. There was a picture which must have been taken earlier in the morning while I was in the shower. It was a selfie of Charlotte fully nude taken over her shoulder into the mirror in her bedroom. Her damp hair fell across her shoulders, causing a few droplets of water to roll down the pale skin of her back onto the curvaceous swell of her buttocks. "I thought you might be ready for a good old-fashioned toss off," it said. "You should go and check out the bedroom."

Stuck to the bedroom mirror was a post-it note. "Feel free to use whatever you find on the floor!" On the floor in front of the mirror was a pair of knickers. On inspection, they were the pair that Charlotte had been wearing last night, there was a definite stain where her pussy had rubbed against the fabric, coupled with an alluring musky aroma. I brought them to my nose and inhaled deeply. By this point I was semi-hard again, so I settled on Charlotte's unmade bed and with her knickers over my face spent an enjoyable 15 minutes having a leisurely wank. I ejaculated with some gusto into Charlotte's knickers mixing our juices together. After that I felt it was probably time to leave. I texted Charlotte to let her know I'd left; I didn't mention that I'd left her knickers soaked through with my sperm. She reminded me she was away the next weekend to see her parents, but not to forget her birthday dinner at which my attendance was mandatory. I left the flat deep in thought. I had a lot to ponder on.

I didn't hear from Charlotte for a few days. I changed the ringtone on my phone to give her a special sound, so I didn't get excited if someone else texted me and I though it was Charlotte. Whether I liked it or not I was at the mercy of Charlotte's plan. On Thursday as I was on the bus heading homewards, the phone finally chirped with Charlotte's special tone. There was a picture, this time of Charlotte in a very chic work outfit of a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt which suited her slender frame. Her hand was holding to her nose what I took to be the knickers I had liberally sprayed with my spunk at the weekend. She was laughing while sniffing. "Thanks for the early birthday present. I really enjoyed its unique scent! I've only just washed them. I'm having my birthday dinner at 7pm a week on Saturday. Looking forward to seeing you then, try and stay out of trouble in the meantime." A couple of interesting things happened. Firstly, I realised that Charlotte had not taken the picture herself; it must have been Paul taking it, which meant that he was in on the action. Secondly, I was sitting next to a woman who when I had sat down next to her, estimated she must have been in her early 40's. I'm not going to lie, I sat next to her as she was the most attractive woman on the top deck of the bus. She was expensively dressed and so far, as I could see had a nice figure. As I was reading the text, I noticed that she must have been able to see my screen. The bus was not a place for privacy. My attractive bus companion looked at me and rather cheekily raised an eyebrow. I blushed furiously.

"She seems like a fun girlfriend," the woman said with no embarrassment.

"She's actually not my girlfriend," I said.

"Well she's definitely fun then. They are expensive knickers she's sniffing and I'm an expert."

I was a bit loss for words and fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, the bus had pulled up to my stop. I quickly descended the stairs and got off the bus, pausing only to confirm to Charlotte I was looking forward to her birthday dinner and I would be there right on time. The game was afoot.

Chapter 5

I received several interesting texts during the weekend while Charlotte was visiting her parents, although not from Charlotte. I received a series of texts from Paul, without any message and with no indication whether Charlotte had approved or was even aware of the pictures that were attached. Its possible that Paul was bored, visiting the in-laws can be a tough gig at the best of times. Charlotte's parents who I met several times, were extremely nice but a little strait-laced and old fashioned. Charlotte had often commented on the contrast between her parents and Paul's family who were more bohemian and expressive as well as being considerably richer. When she visited her parents she didn't want them to hear her and Paul have sex in the evening, while she had once said she felt Paul's Mum had been surprised that she didn't hear them when they had begun visiting them.

Paul it seemed, had spent the weekend amusing himself taking candid snaps of Charlotte in various stages of undress. There was a close up of her glorious bum in a pair of tight leggings taken on a family walk. There was a picture of her wrapped in a towel with her long legs exposed while she applied her make-up. A further picture must have been taken before Charlotte woke, Paul had pulled back the bed sheet and focused on her butt enclosed in a very brief pair of knickers. My favourite picture was of Charlotte from behind in the process of putting on a dress. Her head and upper body was obscured by the dress leaving her long legs and bum, in a pair of see through dark tights and brief black lacy knickers. I spent Sunday evening scrolling through the pictures having a solitary but enjoyable wank.

Something else happened distracting me from the impending birthday dinner. I managed to misplace my headphones over the weekend and to find them emptied the entire contents of my bag onto the kitchen table in search of them. I didn't find the headphones, but I did find a business card which I didn't recognise.

"Arabella De Montfort - High-end lingerie and romantic accessories"

I'd not had a girlfriend for a while so had had no requirement for any lingerie, let alone high-end for some time. And I wasn't sure what romantic accessories were. I couldn't for the life of me think where I had picked it up. The shop seemed to be somewhere off Upper Street in Islington not far from Charlotte's flat. Below the standard phone, email and social media contact numbers was a handwritten mobile number. I couldn't work it out at all. I typed in the website address into my phone browser. From the prices the shop was clearly for women that were prepared to spend a great deal of money on what they wore underneath their work clothes. The pictures on the website were undeniably sexy but classy, not aimed at the solo browsing male. The shop's tagline was "wearable glamour" and the accompanying text explained that the shop was for successful women who wanted to wear special underwear for themselves not as a male fantasy. I would have been happy enough undressing a girl to find her wearing anything I could see on the website although I couldn't afford to buy much of it. The website was minimal - the blurb below clearly stated that customers would be best served by making an appointment in person at the shop. If I hadn't been sitting at home, bored I might have thought no more of it and thrown the card away, but I decided to text the handwritten number.

"Hi, found this card. Not sure where I picked it up. Do I know you?"

For some reason I expected an instant reply and spent the next five minutes staring at my phone. When no reply came, I distracted myself with a film and almost forgot about it. Around 11pm that evening, just as I was thinking about turning in for the night my phone buzzed.

"Hello there. You must be the boy on the bus?"

Maybe because it was late, or maybe the amount of time I had spent wanking over Charlotte's pictures had drained the blood from my brain, but it still wasn't ringing any bells. Then it hit me, Charlotte's text on the bus, the woman sitting next to me reading it and passing comment on the quality of the underwear. It must be her.

"I am. How did I get this card?"

"Well you rather rushed off before we could finish our conversation. I thought the picture I saw was interesting."

"That picture was supposed to be private."

"Come now, let's not be precious. If you open a picture on the bus expect someone to see, and I think the sort of sexy little trollop who sends picture of herself sniffing her panties to a chap who says he is not her boyfriend would quite enjoy other people seeing it."

She had me there.

"What is it that you want?" I replied.

"I'd like you to come to the shop sometime. I run a very exclusive boutique and this little floozy seems like the sort of person I like selling nice things to."

"I'll discuss it with her."

"And what is her name?"

"Charlotte."

"Well, let me know if you and Charlotte would like to swing by my store. You're best to make an appointment, I don't encourage new customers to walk in off the street. Any more pictures?"

Sending on a picture of Charlotte to a person I didn't know without asking her was a bit of a risk. I made an executive decision and decided on the evidence of the last few weeks that she would be into it. I toyed with sending the naked selfie she had sent me after our evening together where I had pleasured her several times and ended up giving her a golden shower, but I chickened out a bit. Instead I sent what had become my favourite photo of her in the process of putting on a dress that Paul had so kindly sent me. Showcasing the tights and knickers seemed appropriate. I got an instant reply.

"You definitely need to come by the shop soon. I think you will enjoy it very much. xx." Attached to the message was a picture. I guessed it must have been of Arabella, but it was from behind. Arabella was standing in a grassy field at some sort of event, holding a glass of fizz. The hand not holding the glass had sneakily lifted the back of her skirt revealing her well-rounded bottom in a pair of lacy, peach coloured knickers. I saved the picture down onto my phone. I would need to approach Charlotte carefully on this, but I was determined to give it a go.