In the Buff


I spotted her panties in her bag again and recognized a correlation I could draw upon. I looked up from her bag to see her watching me intently. Did she see me look directly at her intimate apparel? Was she fearing or wanting comment from me? I deliberately looked at her bag again and pointedly studied the panties. Her smile encouraged me to speak out.

"I see you already fancy panties that are more sensual than functional. Attractive swimwear should be no different."

"I can't say I fancy them. Those are the first pair I've ever worn."

"Do you like them?"

"The silk is so lightweight and loose fitting, it felt like I wasn't wearing panties at all."

"How flattering that you wanted to wear them around me."

Blushing noticeably, she began to stammer, "I ... I didn't ..."

I didn't give her a chance to deny what I believed to be her intent. "I think you did." I reached over and pulled the panties out of her bag. More than just holding them up, my fingertips rubbed the material to feel its silkiness. Her jaw dropped in apparent surprise when she saw my fingers touching the inside surface of the crotch area.

I told her, "These are sexy. You should wear this type all the time to enjoy the pantyless sensation. I go commando when I wear clothes because it makes me feel sexy." Holding them up by the waist to display their coverage, I added, "This is the size of bikini panties you should wear."

I grabbed her sturdy, padded, full-cup bra out of her bag for comparison too. "This is overkill. You don't need this much support or coverage. A bikini top should be made of thin material so it allows movement, only large enough to cover your nipples. It should show off your cleavage and lots of skin."

Anna didn't seem embarrassed by my recommendations to be more daring. In fact, I believe she reveled in an opportunity to experiment in the seclusion of my yard, knowing any choice would meet with my approval. Although she said she would think about it, I believed she had already made up her mind.

For the rest of the afternoon, we spent more time in the water than out to escape the heat; little of our emersion involved energetic swimming. Our main activity was standing close together in shoulder-deep water while talking, conversation that was animated and provocative because it was loosed by beer. She asked for a third beer that she kept at the pool's edge for regular sips, and then a fourth.

Contrary to her initial standoff shyness, she demonstrated a new willingness to be up close and friendly. Her touchy-feely mannerisms included placing her hand on my arm when she spoke to me and touching her cheek to mine when we hugged which happened more frequently as the day wore on. She giggled about silly things and laughed readily, often hanging on me as she did.

The beer made her tipsy, unable or unwilling to maintain control of her movements in the water. Because we stood so close, shifting around caused our bodies to repeatedly bump and brush against each other. Our body contact was too pervasive and at times prolonged to be entirely accidental. I know I purposely caused some of the contact and believed she did too. Her reactions suggested she didn't mind when any of it happened; her actions seemed to be intentional explorations beyond former boundaries.

Our body contact started out innocently with accidental hip-to-hip bumps and hand-to-thigh brushes. In unspoken agreement to escalate, we both began making the body bumps purposeful and aimed but her heavy swimsuit material reduced the sensuality of them. As if playing chicken, our hand brushes lingered longer and teased closer to being sexual. Who would openly grope first? She did, with a little help from me.

I commented that she seemed to be "loosening up" and I was enjoying being part of it. She hugged me in response, leaning herself against me fully frontal. In the hug, our bodies touched in the same way as our earlier hug, her breasts pressing against my chest and her hips centered on mine, except the heaviness of her swimsuit between us reduced the tactile sense. The head of my cock hung low enough to touch the skin of her thigh but I don't know if she could discern the difference from my leg touching her leg. She didn't act as though she did.

Pulling her head back from the hug, she paused to look me in the eyes while she continued to lean on me. Her head leaned forward again to put her cheek against mine and her lips gave me a little peck. She spoke softly, "Thanks for your encouragement. I'm enjoying this too."

Anna slid sideways from the hug, reaching for her beer that was behind me. Her trailing hand dropped from my shoulder, slid down my side and across my groin where her fingertips made fleeting contact while passing over my cock. Natural laws of gravity and physics can explain everything about the arcing path her hand took except the way her hand reached my thigh and suddenly stopped on top of it. Her arm unnaturally extended out a foot from her side to keep her hand in position as she reached for her beer.

I turned around to reach for my own beer. My thigh effectively pulled away from her hand, but immediately my other thigh bumped into her hand, which was still reaching outward. Her hand was so close to touching my cock that I contemplated shifting sideways slightly to cause contact.

After taking another swallow of beer, Anna turned her head to look at my face before dropping her gaze into the water in front of me. She could clearly see her hand on my thigh and right next to my cock. That's when she apparently made a decision to act. Her hand slid over and her wrist rotated, placing her palm on top of my cock. Her thumb and outer fingers moved over the sides into a relaxed grip of my shaft. Her longest fingers teased the ridge of my glans.

Her touch was exquisite. I wanted to ask her to slide her hand up and down, deliberately stroking me, but I chose to wait patiently for her developing interests to progress at a pace comfortable to her conscience. After about five seconds of holding my cock, she giggled, gave my cock a gentle squeeze, and then let go before turning to swim away.

She had crossed into new sexual territory: touching. I believed it was just the beginning of her conversion into an impulsive, sexually liberated woman and that I would benefit from being the man who helped her realize true freedom. The longer it took, the sweeter the result.

The rest of the afternoon featured boisterous water play and cuddly moments. Much of the play was combative; splashing, chasing, and wrassling, giving us excuses for grabbing that included more groping. She did most of the groping, but that was what I wanted anyway, for her to take advantage of my nakedness. My ability to grope her was obstructed by the thickness her swimsuit. Ironically, I had one long grope of her that she created and controlled.

I went to grab her from the side, my arms moving to encircle her. To escape me, she twisted her body sharply like a fish trying to wriggle away. I tried to take hold of her shoulder but my hand landed squarely on her breast. Instead of pushing my hand off, one of her hands gripped my wrist and held my hand in place. Dipping her shoulder under my arm, she turned her back to me, pulling my arm over her shoulder.

Bending at her waist and preventing my arm from slipping off, her ass pushing against my cock, she hoisted me onto her back until my feet came off the pool's bottom. My other hand, which had been on her stomach, began to move away as my body started to slip off sideways. She grabbed that hand as well, presumably to keep me in place, but then surprisingly guided my hand down onto her pubic mound.

She started walking through the water, carrying me on her back. I did more than hang on; I squeezed her tit and pressed on her crotch, encouraged by her hands on top of mine. I could not feel any breast softness or the presence of her nipple through her swimsuit's significant padding. Despite the material's thickness, my other hand could feel the bump of her clit, and her flexing glutes effectively massaged my cock. She took about ten steps before diving under water where she threw my hands off and swam away.

In between periods of water play were moments of quiet embracing when we stopped to catch our breath. I was playing it slow, letting her lead the way because she had a lot to overcome; she didn't need pressure from me. When we hugged, her body language confirmed she enjoyed my body in intimate contact with hers. By kissing my cheek, she signaled a growing desire to advance our acquaintance in romantic ways.

When I finally acknowledged her signals by kissing her cheek in return, she reacted as though she was waiting for such an encouraging sign. Continuing to lean on me, her head pulled back so she could look deep into my eyes. Speaking softly, she sighed, "Oh, Brett." Then throwing her arms around my neck, she kissed me firmly on the mouth. Even without tongue action, her soft, moist lips provided passionate sensations.

Thereafter, all our hugs included kissing and soon involved wonderful tongue action. She was a passionate kisser despite her repressed past. At the end of the day, after sharing a lengthy and heated kiss, she told me, "Thanks for inviting me for a swim. I can't wait to come back for more good times with you like I had today."

I liked how our relationship was developing. There was no doubt in my mind that she would reveal more of her body and eventually have sex with me. She was a generation older and a novice with men, but I believed she would be fantastic partner when turned loose. And, oh, that body; it was the objective I dreamed about at night.

* * * * *

When she came over three days later, it was already oppressively hot at ten in the morning. She wore cute cotton shorts and no blouse over her camisole to combat the heat. Her boobs swayed more than normal as she walked. When she got close, I noticed from the straps that she wore a lacey bra instead of her usually sturdy support.

In the days since her last visit, I had researched sunscreens because research is something I rely on to make informed decisions and I wanted to provide a good choice in case she checked up on me. After reading documented research by a Florida activist group that listed the pros and cons of sunscreen brands, I learned that major brands were the poorest choices for safety and effectiveness. Shopping for sunscreen based on the group's listings, I found Aveeno available at a local store where I bought two bottles.

It became evident that Anna took a similar step to advance the intimacy of our visits as well. When she walked out of my pool house, the sight of her wearing a hot-pink bikini surprised me. Just as I anticipated, the bikini accentuated her killer body in ways that almost gave me an instant erection. Although she could have been more daring by going with more chest exposure and thinner material, her choice of a bikini was a big improvement over the granny suit that hid everything.

Compared to the granny suit, the bikini's lack of cup padding showed that her breasts were smaller than I had previous assumed; I realized they were no more than B-cups. Her breasts appeared to hang low naturally, not from sagging, and they had a cone shape that still jutted out over her flat stomach. Fully covered by fabric that provided moderate support, her tittie flesh wiggled only slightly as she walked.

Her toned abdomen and narrow waist that I found alluring under her clothing were even more so in the flesh. I noticed her hipbones for the first time, particularly how they stood out and enhanced the flatness of her pubic region.

The prominence of her mons pubis created a well-defined mound in the bikini panty fabric. As she walked toward me, the fabric formed creases on alternate sides of the mound, drawing attention to her sex. Her wide thigh gap allowed me to see how her striding legs pulled the supple fabric over her vulva, highlighting the valley between labial hills.

She knew that I was studying her intently as she approached, my gaze probably contributing to her sense of exposure enough for her nipples to create little bumps in her top. She made a frowny face before she spoke. "You wanted me to wear a bikini. I thought I'd get a bigger reaction."

Her gaze directed at my groin caused me to look down and confirm the reason for her remark. My cock was hanging slack, indifferent to the beauty on display. I made jokes about the situation. "My cock sometimes shows bad manners. He's pouting because you're not wearing an even smaller bikini, I guess." A funny expression crossed her face at those words, one I couldn't decipher.

Wanting to support her choice, I continued. "I'm satisfied. Your body was made to wear a bikini. I don't see many women half your age look so sexy. I'm not one who's afraid to show appreciation for any change you make."

"No, you're certainly not the type who feels the need to hide anything," she snarked. "As for your cock, maybe I'll get him interested later. Why don't you tell me what you were looking at a moment ago?"

I liked that her budding exhibitionism was seeking acknowledgment. I described in detail what I noticed about her bikini, especially how it enhanced her body as she moved. She wiggled with excitement as I spoke about her sexuality. With a big smile, she closed in to hug me when I finished. "You make me feel like a special woman, Brett," she hushed in my ear. Her body felt exquisite touching me with softer material covering her feminine charms.

The kiss that became part of her greeting hug was deeply passionate, lasting over two minutes. Her hands clutched my shoulders, my back, and even my ass to pull my body against her. Her body movements were a clear attempt at seduction. Making sounds of pleasure, she swayed slightly, rubbing her sex on my stiffening cock.

I copied her attack, placing a hand on her ass and squeezing her breast with the other. Turning my hips briefly, I let my erection spring up, and then turned back to trap my cock against her bare stomach. Our kiss concluded only after she pressed back for a dozen seconds.

She pulled back to admire my condition. With a coy smile, she joked, "I knew my suit would get a rise out of your cock eventually."

"It was your kiss that woke him up," I countered.

"Your kiss woke up my vagina, too," she admitted. Becoming sexually aroused wasn't as remarkable as her telling me she was. I thought with her attitudes changing so fast, our relationship could turn sexual any moment. I wood [sic] be ready.

When she prepared to spray on her sunscreen, I stopped her and presented her the lotion type I bought for her. She made a move to apply the lotion to herself when I suggested letting me apply it. She hesitated before answering so I assured her she could return the favor by doing me. I think she made up her mind after looking at my cock because she handed me the lotion when she did.

I instructed her to lie on her stomach on the lounge chair and then I sat next to her legs. Starting with her feet, I worked up to her knee, first on one side then the other. I progressed slowly, methodically massaging the lotion over every inch of skin, intentionally making the process as sensuous as I could. The little mewing sounds she made indicated she was enjoying my touch.

As I worked the back of her thighs, I couldn't help staring at the way her suit covered her sex. With the wide gap between her legs, I had an unobstructed view and could see plenty of detail. She took a sharp breath when my fingers moved along the edge of her suit but she didn't object even though the side of my hand brushed against her labia underneath.

When I did her hip and the portion of her buttocks not covered by her suit, I pushed my fingertips under the fabric's edge. After reacting with a little 'oh,' she asked in a humorous way if she needed sunscreen where the sun doesn't shine. I explained that I didn't want her to receive a line of sunburn if the material moved during the day's activities. I teased her with uncertainty about whether my fingers would remain under the fabric all the way back to her sex but I always stopped short. I touched under the waistband of her bikini panties in the same way to appear honest in my purpose.

I asked for permission to unhook her top to make the same thorough coverage easier to apply. Instead, she did it for me, deftly sliding the straps off her shoulders, too. I caught a glimpse of her hanging breast before she settled down.

Working deliberately again, I started with her arms, then her neck and shoulders, before moving onto her back. The last place I applied lotion was her sides, starting at her waist and then moving up until I boldly covered the side of her breasts. She did not complain.

When I said it was time to turn over, I expected her to secure her bikini top first. To my delight, she used an arm to hold it against her chest as she turned over, allowing it lie loosely with areas of tittie flesh exposed. Even with the implied invitation to get familiar with her breasts, I demonstrated patience by starting on her legs. I knew anticipation would increase the intensity of her reactions.

Apparently, she was interested in watching me because she raised the back of her chair slightly. When I reached the top of her legs, I avoided contacting her swimsuit fabric entirely, even skipping her waistline. Probably wondering how boldly I would touch her, maybe even hoping I would, she looked surprised when I didn't. I wasn't afraid to get near her vulva; I actually had a plan to come back for a finale after arousing her with boob work.

Taking up a standing position above one shoulder, I had covered most of her arms from the backside so almost immediately I was working on her shoulders. Making sweeping moves downward, I worked over the top of her breast flesh, pushing her top down until the upper arc of her areolae were exposed. Watching me closely, she noticed the exposure; we made eye contact but I continued applying lotion.

Moving around her armpits, I rubbed down over the sides of both breasts and around their curves to the pliable underside. My wrists, being under her loosely draped suit top, carried her top below her stiff nipples in the process.

"Aren't you being too liberal thinking where my chest risks getting sunburned?"

"Because your suit is untied, I can't be positive where it covers so I prefer to be thorough."

She responded with a sarcastic, "Uh-huh."

"I might as well do your entire breasts in case you decide to go topless."

"I don't think so." There was ambiguity in her answer. Did not refer to going topless or doing her entire breast? Did think not allow for maybe yes?

Rubbing another dollop of lotion on my hands, I boldly pushed her top off and massaged each breast in turn with two hands. My application method included plucking and twisting her nipples. The way she never flinched, I believe she expected me to do it but she didn't intend to be topless right away. When I left her uncovered as I moved down to her stomach, she draped her top back over her breasts.

Sliding my fingers under her suit's waistband, I combed through the upper extent of her pubic hairs. Edging under her suit from the leg openings, I again reached under the fabric until I felt hair. It was hard to control myself with her sex only an inch from my fingertips, but while I didn't want to reach under far enough to touch her clit, I purposely pushed her labia against it from the side.

I turned to see how she was reacting. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her bottom lip back. Noticing her hands holding her top in place, I realized her fingers were pinching her nipples through the fabric. While it appeared I could touch her anywhere I wanted, I decided to deny her further arousal for the moment, hoping to make her want more the next time.

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bySandraMustard© 51 comments/ 148997 views/ 120 favorites

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