Helen's Confidence Pt. 02

The call spurred her excitedly into life for the afternoon. Still plenty of jobs to do. Her bedroom to tidy. Clean sheets to put on and a boudoir to create. Plus a lot of general housework.

She had resisted telling him of her arts project, the result of which she was currently wearing quite happily around the house to do said jobs, adding a naughty element to everything, especially when she caught an unexpected glimpse of herself in a mirror.

Integrity needed to be tested.

Resilience to movement.

Her stitching and sewing ability.

The call had given her a test point. A moment in time to work towards. An instance of fruition.

But that didn't mean she couldn't gain a little familiarity with her endeavours. Putting the washing on the line in the backyard for example meant a little private then public display. Fetching and carrying things to the garage at the foot of the front steps meant a lot of stretch in the legs.

It felt natural, but inside she was stifling the giggling glee of a teenager, for she had spent an hour that morning opening the stitching and cutting back some of the jeans material right at her pussy lips.

The new slit started at the base of the zip and travelled as far as she dared through towards her ass, and opened as far as she dared into the tops of her legs. With her legs closed, it looked like a regular pair of denims. Open, and she looked available for use.

She had then strengthened the material to stop it accidentally ripping and removed, for the moment, her lower jewellery that wanted to hang through.

It was a constant exciting thought. During the conversation with the neighbour over the low fence she felt extremely naughty and especially when face to face with the mailman whilst he ferreted in his bag for a parcel, whilst she stood there wondering how far apart she could take her legs without arousing suspicion.

Taking them off a while later, and still extremely wet between the legs, she had been impressed with her basic road test and was looking forward to the evening ahead. She folded them neatly and tried to ignore them for a while.

...

He arrived at 7 and on his motorcycle. A warmish evening with only a couple of white wispish clouds, it looked perfect for biking. She hadn't been quite prepared for that. As she watched him from her upper floor engage the stand at the kerb and dismount, her mind went into overdrive.

She already felt like a biker chick with the jeans, plain black stilettos and a fancy white lace blouse that she had found during the afternoon rummage and clear out. It had a very light pattern that, though it didn't make it completely see through, made it thin enough to give the illusion. The fact it hung from her breasts just about down to her midriff she thought was quite sexy too. A soft scoop above her chest completed the look.

Her hanging jewellery was carefully stowed in a front pocket. Ironically, she was beginning to feel naked without that familiar soft weight and gentle tug on her. Still, it was only for a while.

She had planned on wearing a thin beige tailored raincoat over the top which was long enough to conceal the present to her man. Now, because of his choice of mode of transport, she had to change her mind. Despite the warm evening, exposure on a bike meant risk of a slight chill. She needed something slightly thicker.

Looking at her recently thinned rail of coat options, she saw the perfect one and plucked it happily from the space.

Opening the door, he beamed at her and remarked favourably on the obvious few extra pounds of weight loss and how gorgeous she looked. She beamed and rotated on the spot to show him the efforts that she had been putting in. His eyes flicked to her ass, but apart from a gentle pat there he didn't make any remark, more intent on and pleased about the soft pert under-boob that was showcased before she zipped up the leather jacket.

He didn't notice the split in her jeans; had no expectation of her doing what she had done. Keeping kissing to the gentle end of the scale rather than passionate, she kept the surprise secure for the moment.

She wanted to tell him.

She wanted so much to show him.

She wanted to feel his hands there.

He made a brief remark about the ink stain, but a smile and a change of subject prevented him from looking too closely. They ought to get moving and enjoy the sojourn.

She had a game in mind with all the elements created and ready to be played. This was not the time to fall apart. It was far more erotic to hold back and hide it for the moment. Keeping her legs closed whenever he was looking straight at her, she felt herself moisten in anticipation of playing her hand, and was more concerned about leaking down her leg.

Front door locked and helmet on her head, she waited for him to first mount the large engined tourer. Standing at the house kerb now, she felt like a biker chick. The leather jacket, that she had previously worn at the restaurant, only reached her waist and it did mean that she had no way of hiding her wardrobe addition should she need to.

But hey, it made it more fun.

She cast residual doubts from her mind as he mounted the bike and eased it off the stand to bring it totally upright.

Checking that there was no one behind her to get an eyeful, she prepared herself.

Stepping her first foot up onto the passenger stand, she swung her other leg up and over to sit squarely on the pillion and settle her stilleto clad foot onto the other. There was a soft mound of pummel between rider and pillion and her lower lips opened softly to almost kiss it as she settled behind it, and settled behind him.

Well this was a new feeling.

Her naked pussy was almost being ground into the leather stitching on the seat and whilst looking down into the narrow void between their bodies, she was suddenly hit by the stark realisation of what she was wearing.

There was no closing her thighs now.

No modesty if she suddenly needed it.

She was open.

As he started the engine, her entire attention was taken by the feel of the leather between her legs. Though not cold, the material on her legs contrasted immensely with the cooled feel between her very open pussy. Her thighs couldn't be closed due to her position on the seat behind him. And despite needing to be close enough to hold his waist for safety, the void was maintained between their bodies and the soft mound of the seat snuggled softly with her soft mound.

Her pussy fluttered in expectation of a stroke. Removing a hand from his waist, she obliged, working them between and into her crack, her knuckles accidentally in his lower back a couple of times.

He was asking if she was all right.

She could barely hear him above the engine but nodded her head in reply more intent on scratching the erotic itch she was feeling.

Engine gunning.

He pulled away from the kerb.

They were off.

She couldn't deny that there was a certain degree of anxiety over the course of the trip. In traffic, there was a concern that the person in any car behind could or would notice the fact that material wasn't covering her entire derriere. Leaning forward holding her man's torso did create an angle that she had hoped would be shown to him first and not random other people. Feeling around, it did feel very open to the elements, despite her being sat on the main split.

Maybe it would be a negligible view? A couple of pink pieces of an undefinable origin? Pocket decoration perhaps?

On the open road, it actually felt thrilling. The air flow around her nether regions were soothing and exciting in equal measure. At lights, she found sitting upright helped improve her confidence that no one was going to toot their horns or leer at her, though with a helmet on, no one would know who she was anyway.

She reached behind herself a couple of times to run her finger down over her ass and feel the start of the cut in the material and wondered how much anyone behind could see? The concern that was making her heart beat even faster was, that at this angle, was her puckered asshole winking at the following motorists?

Helen was riding the line between it being a very exciting thought and being slightly anxious that she had started the game. There was not much she could do right now. The noise of the engine and the fact that they had two heavy helmet lids between them meant conversation was not an option and there was no way she could encourage a shorter journey. Not a regular pillion passenger, she felt safe with both hands looping around his waist and her chest pushed into his back.

The fact that the people, if they were looking, may see the split was just a current fact of life.

It excited her more than made her anxious.

It definitely excited her.

That particular line in the sand was perhaps moving as the journey went on.

She could feel her excitement collecting on the leather seat. Hemmed in between the pommel and her legs, and with no immediate place to go, it felt like a very specific part of her was sat in a bath.

The movement of the bike and forced lean into the bends. The permeating throb of the engine which made the whole frame rumble. It was like a very large engined sex toy that was directing it's power to the one place it mattered. A direct line to her clit.

Through the tumult in her head, the sane thought was to not cum. The seat was one long design, with her position being higher than where he sat. There was potentially one place her natural and copious squirt would end up and she couldn't see him being particularly happy spending the evening with sodden trousers if it seeped down to him.

She bit her lip and desperately tried to look at the passing scenery and think about other things.

A beautiful hedgerow in full bloom.

A glimpse of the sea through a field.

The fact that her pussy was so open.

Taking one arm off his waist, she tucked her fingers into the front of her slit and felt the squirt. Not such a large quantity from what she could ascertain, thank goodness, her orgasm had been quite low on the power scale, created by the vibration rather than a lot of direct internal stimulation. A lot of it now on her fingers.

Not wishing to wipe them on him or herself, she paused for a moment before doing the only option she felt she had left. Feeding them in through her visor, she licked them clean.

...

Dismounting gratefully at their parking space at the harbour they had decided to visit, she removed and passed him her helmet to clip to the bike and unzipped her jacket. The residual damp on the seat had dried quickly by the looks of it. No harm, no foul. The material on her inner thighs similarly had too. A residual slight stain but not as bad as the ink blot. Her breasts bounced free of the jacket constraint and she watched his eyes light up appreciatively once more.

His hand at her neck.

A passionate kiss.

Another feeding it's way onto her chest.

Feeling gloriously happy and once again back in control of herself, she allowed herself to wrap into his arms and returned the kiss. Content, she allowed herself to smile and took his offered hand for a pre-meal amble around the port.

She walked upright and proud, conscious of the shelf her naturally pert middle aged breasts created and revelling in feeling sexy and his frequent smiles.

Passing other evening strollers, they greeted them happily, though totally happy in each other's company. It wasn't until she posed for a picture before a particularly nice background, that he first noticed her handiwork.

She had seated herself on the harbour wall and brushed her hair into place with her fingers whilst he backed off a way to take the picture. She then laughingly made a play of lifting her breasts as though to position them which was really to delay him taking his snap.

She then smiled and looked down into the lens... and slowly and deliberately opened her thighs.

Did time stop?

He looked giddy with excitement.

He almost choked.

His jaw opened in amazement.

Within seconds he was at her side.

An exploratory hand.

A look of delight.

A laugh of pleasure.

She had been craving his hand between her legs since dismounting the bike. It had altered over the course of the stroll from the excitement of having a present to give - to complete and frustrated desire that he hadn't yet made the discovery for himself.

He made up for it now. The kisses were good. The finger that found its way straight onto her clit even better. She trembled with his touch. His caress. His intrusion. Right there, port-side and ostensibly fully dressed, her moist lips opened to match the gape in her jeans and accepted his invasion with relief. It was seconds later that her eyes closed, her head was thrown back and she accepted the familiar rising sensations with gratitude.

Opening her legs further just in time, the squirt jetted to the floor with two good blasts before a final dribble cleaned her out. She gripped his arm and bit her lip as the orgasm blasted through her brain.

She hoped that this was just the beginning and that desire was to be rewarded.

Her seated on the low harbour wall, him stood before her, they both watched the squirt flood the paviours and smiled at each other; hers in relief of the excitement, his in wonder of her ingenuity, resolve and fortitude. She pushed her fingers along her slit and felt the rings clink together.

Several people were still walking the area, two particularly approaching their position. One eye on the lookout for their proximity, they lost themselves once again in a deep kiss, tongue on tongue, lips locked. Praying that the damp ground didn't spark any unwanted interest.

Closing her legs, all seemed decent.

Passing pedestrians.

Opening her legs, decadent slut.

She giggled at her own nerve. This was truly a game she loved. Another couple of evening strollers were nearing whom he hadn't noticed. Keeping her breathing in check, she wondered how far she could let them get before she lost her nerve and had to close her legs.

His hand resting on her shoulder, he turned to sit beside her, happening to look up at the point that the couple crossed in front of them.

He saw that she was just closing her thighs.

They walked on, oblivious.

He raised his eyebrows.

She giggled again and bit her lip.

There was a time that going out without underwear would have been unheard of. A lacy top left behind years ago. A crop top never done at all. Stilletos a thing of her twenties. Yet here she was with all those things, having just stepped off a motorbike also with a hole the size of a saucer cut into the crotch of her jeans.

This was new territory.

Very new territory.

Unexplored opportunities for fun.

Her obvious deliberate late recovery of her public decency had been noted and was about to be tested with the next passing group of men. Obviously pub goers; loud crude comments and raucous laughter filled more of the air as they got closer. A couple of them eyed her up as they approached, but the fact that she was already with a tall well-built bloke was an instant dissuasion from any interaction.

All passed safely trailed by a younger, shorter man who was obviously desperate to keep up with his peers. A friendlier face, smaller build and a nervous quality about his movements made him almost the runt of the group.

Helen left her legs parted.

To be honest, she didn't know why she did, as though she wondered if he would notice her. Busy looking at her man with just a distant awareness of the passing pack, her peripheral vision noticed the double-take and the almost instantaneous drop of his jaw. That was followed by a slight trip as he stumbled which his friends noticed with backward looks and much jeering.

Her man couldn't quite believe her audacity. Watching the men round the corner and disappear, she told him happily about what she had done and how it had made her feel very naughty indeed.

Laughing, they took to their feet to continue their stroll. The gentle click of her heels on the concrete and tarmac a steady background rhythm as they strolled holding hands towards the destination pub.

She could tell that she was making him horny. There was a bigger than usual bulge at the front of his own jeans and she noticed him slide his hand behind his waistband to rearrange himself for comfort. She took off the jacket, swung it over her shoulder and enjoyed his appreciative gaze, feeling sexy and desireable with her bared tummy and hint of under-boob.

They walked on to a quiet area of the marina. People were around but maintaining a distance.

He knelt down to pretend to sort the laces on his boots and she turned to his face, knowing that he was being turned on by her frivolousness. Getting closer and closer, she felt his nose at her wet lips and his tongue take an exploratory lick.

She felt a judder through her body and twisted a leg to open her thigh even more, presenting herself open and very wet to him.

Desperately trying not to throw her head back or show anyone from this distance that she was enjoying oral comfort, the brief laying of her hands on his shoulders were the only actual public contact she initiated.

Her lips tasted pungent from the recent squirt but also fresh in places from the air drying that they had received since. He lapped hungrily leaving her to look around for upset or annoyed observers.

No one was around for the moment, the shafts of golden light from the decaying sun, unobserved for the moment, but causing beautiful reflections on the window glass on distant buildings.

The fact that she was to all intents and purposes still fully dressed preserved her courage and allowed her enjoyment of something that would otherwise have been totally out of her comfort zone.

She felt herself moistening yet again and her legs beginning to tremble and knew she needed him inside her. Turning and resting herself against a metal hand rail she told him so. She draped her jacket over the rail to one side and parted her legs teasingly do as he could see her naked slit.

Her breasts felt free, the lacy material barely covering the flesh. She tossed her hair back. She felt half her age.

Suddenly he was behind her. She felt him fumbling with himself, his hand knocking against her ass as he was obviously freeing his cock from his trousers. And then felt his bulging head poking at the flesh of her cheeks, guiding his way in though the hole in her jeans, his reaching finger handily holding one of her lower rings to one side for ease of access.

Another couple of people were approaching them. Rounding the corner towards them, they were moving slowly but resolutely towards their vantage point, obviously keen to watch the setting sun before it was too late.

Shit.

Compromised.

Caught.

His obvious desperation to complete his self set mission had to be paused. Movement was too obvious.

He didn't wish to offend.

Leaning against the rail, she propped her head into one of her hands as though she was just gazing in wonder at the beautiful marina scape and he stayed upright and aloof, as though he always stood that close to his woman.

Her other crossed arm covered and protected the open aperture to her breasts and she closed her feet together subtly as an instinctive move.

The golden glow and colours created in the sky were a compelling draw as was it's effect on the water. They watched with true contentment.

Trying to fake naturality, she pointed at an abstract part of the view and commented banally about it as the couple, obviously in their late sixties and oblivious to their predicament, leant against the rail a few yards away to look at the same view.

Fuck.

Predicament.

Dilemma.

His cock was beginning to loose it's complete hardness in the quandary that they faced. Though neither of the elderly couple had seemed to notice, it was far too obvious for him to start any sort of pelvic thrusting but he was too desperate to cum to want to stop.