Joanna's Cabin Ch. 4

I awoke in Joanna's bed, and for the second time looked around and wondered for a second where I was.

Then memories of the previous night's activities flitted happily through my head. The long, wet kisses, worshipping Joanna's big breasts, screwing her with the big strap-on, applying my lips and tongue to her asshole. I had done well, and given her quite a few orgasms. She had been very pleased with me.

When I walked out of the bedroom she was sitting at her kitchen table, writing on tablet of yellow paper. "Mornin' Beautiful! You've inspired me to do some creative writing."

I kissed her and then without waiting to be told, got down on my knees and crawled under the table. She opened her legs wide and continued to scribble with her pencil as I sucked between her legs and kissed and licked her pussy and asshole.

After breakfast, she said we ought to get along to the beach. She named the beach we were going to and asked if I'd ever been to it. It was one of the largest and most popular in the state. I told her I'd been there, but that I didn't usually go there because it was too crowded and there were other beaches closer. She said it was the perfect place for us to spend the day.

She said I could wear one of her swimsuits, but that we should take showers before we left. She led me into the bathroom and started the water running in the shower.

When the bathroom began to get steamy, she had me take off her bathrobe and hang it up. She stepped into the shower turned around under the flowing water, then handed me the bar of soap. She stood there, not moving, while I washed her. Then she rinsed off and I patted her dry with a towel. After she left the bathroom, I showered myself.

When I was done, I found her in the bedroom, in a bikini, admiring her body in the mirror. The bra could hardly contain her breasts.

"Oooh," I said. "The men are going to love that."

"Actually," she said, "I expect the men will mostly be looking at you."

"At me?"

"Yes--your swimsuit is so much more revealing than mine."

"More revealing than that? What do you mean? You said I could wear one of your swimsuit, right?"

"That's right. Yours is in that bag on the bed."

There was a paper sack on the bed. I didn't know what to expect when I picked it up. When Joanna had said I could wear one of her swimsuits I had doubted it would fit. My breasts were ok, actually quite full for my otherwise skinny frame, but nothing like hers. I couldn't see how something that fit her would fit me, too.

When I looked in the bag, I had to close my eyes and shake my head and look again to be sure I was seeing it correctly. I turned the bag over and the "swimsuit" fell onto the bed.

It consisted entirely of a large wooden bead, with a short string coming out of it, attached to a triangle of thin, light blue material no bigger than my hand.

"Joanna, this is a joke, right? Where's the swimsuit?"

"That's it. Well, that's most of it, anyway. Come on, let's put it on you."

I guess she had invented this thing herself. I'd never seen or heard of anything like it. She had me squat on the floor and then she spit on the bead and worked it up my asshole.

"There. That secures the back end of it." She pulled the triangle of material up and over my vagina. It barely reached over the top of my pubic hair. She had me lay down on the bed, and then she spread a thick line of some kind of adhesive across my lower belly just above my pubic hair, from a squeeze tube that looked like a toothpaste tube except the cap was cone- shaped. She stretched the triangle of material up and pressed it to the line of glue, and held it in place.

She explained that the adhesive was made to stick to human skin but that it was harmless, and that they used it in hospitals all the time to keep electrodes and sensors in place. It did work, because when she let go, the top of the triangle was firmly bonded to my belly. The thing covered my vagina, just barely. Tufts of pubic hair stuck out both sides.

She had me get up and walk around and stand in front of the mirror. The material was so thin that it conformed to the shape of my labia. You could clearly see my vagina beneath the light blue patch, crease running down the center and everything.

"Joanna, I can't go to a public beach wearing just this tiny thing. I'll get arrested!"

"Well, your pussy is covered up, right?"

"Sort of, but nothing else is!"

"Well, thong bikinis don't cover the ass at all. So you don't really care if your ass is showing do you?"

"No, I guess not. But they don't let you go topless."

"I know that. We can't very well have you walk around the beach with your breasts exposed, can we? And have everyone looking at them? So I'm going to put on your bra right now."

She led me back into the kitchen and had me stand still in front of her chair. She opened a jar of light blue latex paint and stirred it with a little stick.

She used a small brush to paint my breasts. She didn't paint the sides or bottom of either breast, though, just the center. Just my nipples and a little more. Then she painted lines to look like bra straps. The strap lines didn't stand out enough, she thought, so she outlined them with a black felt tip marker.

"There!" she said when she was done. We stood in front of the mirror. "Everyone will think you have a blue bikini on."

"Joanna, this isn't going to fool anyone. I look like a woman with painted tits." The fact that she hadn't painted the sides or bottoms of my breasts made it obvious, even from a distance, that I wasn't wearing anything on my top.

"True, but the men and boys are going to love it."

The one-hour drive to the beach took three hours, because Joanna thought it would be fun to stop along the way. We stopped 6 times for gas. I can't tell you how humiliating this was for me. She'd pick out a place that was a combined gas station and convenience store, with customers in the store. She'd hand me a dollar bill and then go into the store and browse around.

I would have to get out of the car and pump one dollar's worth of gas in the tank. Then I had to walk into the store wearing just that tiny bikini bottom, stand in line, and pay for the gas. Joanna enjoyed watching the jaws drop open. I wore sunglasses so no one could look into my eyes, but I knew my face was red from embarrassment. There were men, women, and even children in these places. But I had no choice. I had to do it.

Worse yet, the light blue material between my legs began almost at once to bunch up near the string and disappear between my labia, exposing my lips at the bottom. So part of my vagina was exposed, too. Joanna said that was ok, and I should just leave it like that.

She drove through a couple of small towns, too. In one she stopped at park where about ten old guys were sitting at a big picnic table, playing checkers. She handed me two one-dollar bills and told me to ask those guys if any of them had a two-dollar bill I could buy. She also told me that when I was in front of them, I was to yawn. A real protracted yawn, where my arms were stretched behind me and my tits were thrust out and my eyes closed. She explained the old-timers might be embarrassed to stare at my tits if I could see them looking, so that would give them a good opportunity to get an eye-full.

That was a particularly embarrassing experience, partly because it was such a foolish question to be asking them in the first place. It would be obvious that I had just come over to show my body to them.

Despite the embarrassment, I found it increasingly erotic to be exposed like that, and it was easy in a way because I wasn't doing it on purpose. Joanna was making me do it. It was very difficult at first, but the more times I did it, being exposed became easier. By the time we were on our way home, I wasn't really embarrassed at all any more. I had just resigned myself to it.

When waiting to pay for gas, I heard some comments that were rude, though, to say the least. Not always, but a few times. Once, someone said "What a cunt!" as I was leaving the store. I didn't like that. Several people called me a bitch, and twice mothers covered their children's eyes and hissed at me What is the matter with you!

It was early afternoon when we arrived at the beach. Joanna said we had to avoid the lifeguards and the beach cops for as long as we could, so we stayed at the fringes of the huge crowd.

Joanna showed me a portable video camera she had rigged inside a beach bag, and she had me just walk slowly around, showing myself to people, while she followed behind me, taping the reactions of people as I went by.

Sometimes I had to do the yawn thing, or stretch, or run short distances along the beach, which was painful with my breasts flopping up and down. I didn't pay attention to it then, but later when we looked at the tape I could see people spilling drinks, pointing and gawking, guys staring literally with their tongues hanging out, etc. At the time, I heard a few catcalls and a few whistles, but paid them no mind. I tried to just do as Joanna said and not think about it.

We did this for about an hour. I walked through larger and larger groups of people, until finally suddenly I found my path blocked by a policeman. "Ma'am," he said, "I'm afraid you're going to have to put some clothes on." Before I could even reply, Joanna did the funniest thing. She put her beach bag down, whipped off her bikini top, and came barging into our conversation, her naked breasts bouncing and swaying.

"What seems to be the trouble here, officer?" she said.

He looked at her and said "Jesus, now there's two of them! I'm sorry, ladies, but you've got to get dressed."

Joanna grabbed her breasts and aimed them up at the cop, pointing her big nipples right at him, and said "These babies need some sun, officer! They're not hurting anyone!"

"Get some clothes on or I'm arresting both of you! Right now!"

"Ok, ok!" Joanna said, and took two oversize tee- shirts from her beach bag, and we put them on.

Unfortunately, after our first warning, they were watching us, and almost as soon as I took off the tee-shirt, a burly lifeguard was in my face. "Consider this your second and last warning, ma'am."

Joanna was irritated. "Bunch of dickweeds! Let's blow this joint. At least I got a few fun videos we can look at later. Besides, we're going to stop and put on a one-act play on the way home, and you need to study the script."

This was the writing project Joanna had been working on early that morning. She handed me the pages and I read them as she drove back toward the city. I couldn't help laughing at the script she had made up.

"Just don't laugh when we're in there," she said.

The blue paint had started peeling off my skin anyway, and Joanna said I could go ahead and take it off. Most of the bra she had painted on came off in two large patches. Only a few flecks of blue paint remained on my breasts.

She found a service station that appeared to only have one man working in it. We pulled over near it and stopped. Joanna reached down to my bikini bottom. Her fingers went between my legs and grabbed the short string, and she yanked the bead out of my butt. She checked to see that the top of the triangle of material was still firmly bonded to my abdomen, and it was. She had me put on one of the big tee shirts.

"Now, show me your 'stupid' look."

I tried to look as dumb as I could.

"Make you eyes more vacant. Pretend you're looking off into the distance, at the horizon, so your eyes aren't focused on anything…that's better. Relax your jaw. Let your mouth hang open…Ok, that'd do. You ready?"

This was our one-act play:

We'd walk into the gas station or small store, with Joanna leading me by the hand as though I were a reluctant and uncooperative child. (Of course, Joanna is only 2 years older than I am, and we weren't going to fool anyone that we were mother and daughter, but she said that didn't matter.)

She'd let go of my hand as she approached the guy working there, and I would immediately turn and wander off a little ways.

"Hi," she'd say to the guy, "Do you sell any products here that can dissolve epoxy? My little girl glued her swimsuit to her belly. Show him, honey."

She'd look to her side and see that I wasn't there, and then look around and see me and yell "Baby, get over here!"

Then I'd drawl back, in a dopey, whiny voice, "But, Mama!"

"Shut up! Get over here!"

I'd go stand in front of the guy with my legs apart and my hips thrust forward, and raise the bottom of the tee shirt up to my navel, as Joanna pointed to the bikini bottom. Every time we did this, the guy would either bend down to look more closely, or squat down right in front of me to get a good look. The blue triangle was just hanging straight down, without the bead up my ass.

At that point, Joanna would take the bead in her hand and lift it all the way up to display the underside of the glued line, completely exposing my vagina, right in the guy's face.

What happened next depended on the guy's reaction. If he registered disdain, or moved away from the view being offered to him, Joanna would drop the bead and say "Oh well, I suppose it'll just fall off eventually. Thanks anyway!" And we'd walk out of the place.

But if he didn't move away, and three out of the five times we did this routine, the guy didn't, then Joanna would continue to hold the bead up and say to me "Baby, don't ever do this again! You might have gotten glue in your cunt!"

Then I would look down and take the bead out of Joanna's hand and hold it myself, and say, trying to sound as stupid as I could manage, "I didn't git none in my hoochie-coochie, did I, Mama?"

Joanna would then reach up and spread my pussy wide open with her fingers and say "Well, I don't think so, Baby…let me check here."

She'd start rubbing her fingers around my lips and massaging my clitoris. The whole point from then on was to make me orgasm while the man was watching closely. Still holding the bead with one hand, I'd use the other hand to raise the tee shirt until my breasts were exposed, too.

"Baby, hold still!"

"But, Mama!"

"Shut your mouth! Hold still!"

It didn't take me very long to come, mostly because I was so turned on by the whole idea having my most private area exposed, spread wide open no less, to a stranger. After I'd orgasm, Joanna would pretend to be surprised and disgusted with me. She would straighten up and say "You're a filthy slut!" and she'd slap my hand, to make me drop the tee shirt back down over my body.

Then I'd say "But, Mama!"

"Shut up! I'm taking you home! I'll tell you something else, young lady! When we get home I'm going to give that nasty cunt of yours a good hard spanking!"

"But, Mama!"

She'd grab my arm and march me out of the place, all the while me whining "But, Mama!" and her sternly replying "Shut up, you slut!"

Then we'd about laugh ourselves sick, getting back in the car and driving to the next place.

Anyway, that was our day at the beach.