Knowing Ginny

'You'd make a lousy diplomat,' she said, 'but have we got far to go?'

'Just around the corner.'

I parked in my usual space, leaving room for Tom's car beside me, and led the way into my town-house.

I invited them all to sit down on my comfortable range of soft leather seating, and put modern jazz on the CD player, then fetched drinks for everyone. Ginny had chosen to sit in an armchair, and Tom was perched on its arm, from where he could read the titles of my CD collection – more to the point, I thought, he was close to Ginny. I slid next to Cathy on the sofa, having put the drinks tray down on the coffee table.

'This is very cosy,' she said, rubbing her leg against mine, so that I felt a distinct tingle run right through to my groin, which gave an instant involuntary twitch.

I glanced across at Ginny. In an early trial for my assertion that I had no jealous tendencies, she was stroking Tom's thigh, rapidly diverting his attention from musical matters. As I looked, he turned his head towards her, and she smiled back at him, her eyes hooded in an expression I already knew well. Her hand dwelt near the top of his thigh. I returned my attention to Cathy, who had, I thought, the most exquisite knees I had ever seen. I laid a hand on one, and she squirmed and said 'Mmm,' as if I had done something really erotic. I took my hand away, but she took my wrist and put it back, leaning into me, and whispering, 'My knees are very sensitive, Keith – you don't know how much!'

Christ, I thought, if that's what herkneescan do – wow! My hand wandered up her smooth thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt, and meeting no resistance. With the other hand I stroked her neck, fiddling with her ear-lobe for a moment, before trailing down to the elasticated neckline off her blouse. Again she made no protest as I gently lifted the material and eased my hand inside. She wore no bra under her blouse, and needed none, as her breasts were almost non-existent, pre-pubescent, mere slight mounds, but with hard knobs for nipples, which seemed to harden still more under my touch, and which caused her to gasp when I tweaked them between my thumb and forefinger.

She sought my mouth eagerly now with hers, her lips open and questing, and as soon as they clamped onto mine, her tongue darted into my mouth, the silver stud a new experience as it explored my own tongue and the inside of my mouth. Something about it was erotically-charged, and she had by now found my erection with an anticipatory, grasping hand, impatient to release it from my trousers. I helped her, pulling down my zipper and thrusting my shaft into her waiting hands. She bent down and admired it, then promptly took me deep into her throat in one swift movement, her stud rasping the length of my cock as she did so. It took me a huge effort of control not to cum there and then, but I mastered the urge, closing my eyes and holding on tight.

She gave wonderful head, and sucked me to the very edge of ecstasy, but I was determined to fuck her, and pulled out of her mouth just in time. When I ran my hands up her legs, under her skirt, she pulled up her blouse, and pinched her own nipples with long, red-nailed fingers, as I reached her thin silk panties. I hooked my fingers over the waistband and pulled them down, as she lifted her arse clear of the sofa just enough for me to slide them off. When I pushed her skirt up, I saw that she was a natural blonde, her fair bush neatly trimmed to a little triangle, pointing to her neat slit.

Uninhibitedly, she threw her legs wide apart, exposing her pink crack to me, as I knelt between her long, slender legs, stroking the insides of her thighs until she could bear it no longer, and said, loudly, 'Oh, fuck me, Keith, fuck me, now, NOW!'

But I wanted her to wait, and first stroked the length of her crack, loving its wetness, and finding her erect little button at its end, begging fulfilment. I toyed with it until she moaned hard, then again let my fingers run through her crack, this time down to her arsehole, into which I suddenly plunged my forefinger, right to its very hilt. She groaned with pain and ecstasy, and I knew she had to be fucked then. I knelt up to her and plunged my cock into the very depths of her cunt, in one great, thrusting penetration. I knew she had a raging orgasm at that very moment, and that she would multiply if I could only last for a short while. I plunged in and out , slapping my heavy balls against her arse with each stroke, as she wrapped her legs around my back, trapping me within her and driving me to even greater depths. I couldn't keep this up for long, and yelled, 'I'm coming!' Then I almost blacked out as I shot my load of hot spunk into her innermost soul.

We lay together, slowly becoming conscious of the other two, on the nearby armchair. Ginny had contrived to sit Tom in the chair and had straddled him, was still impaled on his rod, her skirt around her waist, her hair coming down virtually to his legs as she moved slowly, again exciting Tom. (and me!) Ginny was not a lady to be satisfied with a single shot.

Watching the two of them, Cathy also started to have ideas, and whispered in my ear, 'You know when you put your finger in me? In my other place? It excited me a lot. Can you do it some more?' She put her tongue in my ear, stud and all, to emphasise the point.

I turned her over, and pushed her along the sofa, giving her lovely thighs a few preliminary strokes, then gently circled around the tiny, puckered, virgin hole of her anus, spitting down on it, so that my saliva lubricated the entrance enough to make the entrance of my finger smooth. This time it slipped in comfortably, and she just moaned slightly as I felt her sphincter relax, and peristalsis seem to suck my finger into her dark, mysterious depths. I let a second finger join the first, very gradually working it into place alongside, easing it into the tight sheath that was her velvet passage.

'Oooh,' she moaned, 'I'm going to cum!'

I joined the two fingers now penetrating her arsehole with two of the other hand, which I thrust hard into her cunt, and she bucked and let out a sharp cry which I knew meant she had had another fierce climax. I was rock-hard, and suddenly found that Ginny had joined us on the sofa, having abandoned a totally shagged-out Tom on his chair. She took me in her luscious lips, and gave me the sort of blow-job that needs love as an accompaniment. When I came, she looked into my eyes, and I saw real affection there. I knew we were 'an item.'

Ginny and I got to know each other well over the next few weeks. We went shopping together whenever we had free time, and she delighted in exhibiting her body whenever possible. Shoe-shops provided a wonderful opportunity, of course, and several assistants were treated to views of her naked sex, but her favourite moments were when we were riding in the car together. She would delight in having me pull alongside a bus, preferably one full of adolescent youths, then she would 'accidentally' let her skirt ride up, so that passengers in the bus above got a grandstand view of her shaven pussy. After any of these episodes, we tended to have wonderful lovemaking sessions. We invited Tom and Cathy to dinner on two occasions, and both times we ended up, all four of us, in bed together, but somehow these were strangely unsatisfying evenings, and we decided not to continue along these lines.

We both had holidays due, and Ginny thought it would be nice to have a week in the Mediterranean – sea and sunshine seemed like a great idea – so we booked to go to Ibiza.

We arrived late on a Friday evening at the airport, to be met by a girl in a Disneyland-type uniform, who ushered us to a minibus. After a long wait while she found one missing pair, we were taken, with two other couples, about five kilometres to a modern apartment complex, and shown our home for the next week. The girl gave us the keys to the apartment, and to a smart little Renault Twingo, that went along with it. There was nothing much more to do but turn in, as by then it was past midnight, and we were pretty well tired out, but it was nice to lay naked in bed with windows wide open to the starlit sky, crickets chirping, warm air fragrant with the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle.

Next morning we were up early, exploring the apartment, raiding the stocks left for us in the fridge, so that we could enjoy a quiet breakfast on the balcony. Then we wanted to head straight for the beach. We had been told by the rep that Ginny would need a bikini bottom on the local beach, but she had drawn us a rough map to give us directions to an informal nudist beach some way across the island. 'Go easy on the Twingo,' she had said, however, and the rocky path soon showed us why. When we got to the little secluded cove, there were no more than ten people there, all naked, so we quickly stripped off, and left our clothes locked in the car. Seeing Ginny nude like this, without being a prelude to making love, was a new experience, and several times her close proximity, her touches, started to have the inevitable effect on me, and I had to turn over on the sand, much to Ginny's amusement, to hide a growing erection. There were some other very attractive women arriving at the cove during the morning, and idly watching them strip off and bare their bronzed bodies was not at all unpleasant.

Fully equipped with sunshade, coolbox, food and drink, we stayed there much of the day, happy with our own company, soaking up the sun and sea air, but being careful not to overdo the exposure, and swimming in the blue waters of the Mediterranean whenever the mood took us.

When the sun started to decline, we set off back to our apartment, where we both relaxed some more before the evening's entertainment – we had had a note through our letterbox saying that there was to be a barbecue around the pool that evening. It read:-

TONITE

BBQ AROUND (& IN!) THE POOL

DRESS: SWIMWEAR, BUT BRING SEXY NIGHTWEAR FOR LATER!

Music was being amplified, and the delicious aroma of lamb chops was starting to waft up to us. We saw, when we looked over the balcony, that people were appearing, the girls in bikinis – or at least their bottom halves – the men in bright Bermudas, and all carried bags, presumably carrying their 'sexy nightwear.'

'I know what I'm going to wear later,' laughed Ginny, 'but I don't know about you.'

I had to settle for some short silk pyjamas – I couldn't see how men's nightwear could be remotely 'sexy' anyway, but that may have been because I was a man!

We went down to join the throng around the pool, just as the first sausages and chops were starting to be served up, and helped ourselves to beers. Ginny had already attracted the attention of several people, I noticed, as we walked into the area, her prominent nipples jutting out challengingly as she swayed along in her exaggeratedly high heels, a tiny thong only just hiding her clean-shaven pubes, and her long, silky hair cascading down to her narrow waist.

We ate sparingly, as we had snacked quite a lot during the day, then jumped into the pool to cool off, splashing around with perhaps forty other people – too many to even think about swimming properly. Not very many seemed to know each other, but quite a bit of ice was being broken, as those few who were not English did their best to converse with the majority of us who were.

A big guy who seemed to be in charge of proceedings took hold of a microphone and called out, 'OK, guys, we all have to get out of the pool now – local laws and all that – so you can all dry off and change – we're going to PARTY!'

With that he turned up the music, and everybody emerged, dripping from the pool, making for their bags. Steve, as we learned the organiser was called, showed us a pile of towels for those, like us, who had forgotten to bring one.

'Don't be shy,' he was yelling, 'get changed into your Sunday best!'

Ginny had taken him at his word, almost before I could turn around, and hair still twisted into a wet rope, she had divested herself of her bikini bottoms, and slipped into a garment I hadn't seen before. It was a short, white, completely transparent nightdress, with fur trimmings at the neckline and hem, which teasingly swayed around her naked pussy. Her breasts poked out at the almost non-existent material in a shamelessly erotic manner, and she made no attempt to conceal the fact that she was wearing no panties as she pulled me up to dance. An instant erection threatened to tent my thin silk pyjamas, which had a huge slit at the front – they were certainly not designed for rock and roll! After a couple of numbers, we sat down, and took in the scene. Nearly all the couples were younger than we were, but none of the women was more attractive nor more daringly attired than Ginny. However, she nudged me and pointed out a couple I had already spotted, and said, 'Mmmm, what do you think to them?'

I looked again. He was tall and dark, with a muscular torso he was proud to show in a vest and a pair of boxer shorts. She was something else altogether – almost as tall as he was, long blonde hair, high Scandinavian cheekbones, and very slim. She wore a long black transparent nightgown, under which could clearly be seen a pair of flimsy matching panties, with bow-ties at the sides. Like Ginny, she was perched on high stilettos, and danced with languid, sensual movements. She saw us looking and half-smiled back.

'Would it be fun to split them up?' asked Ginny, mischievously.

'Why not?' I said

We wandered casually over, and they yielded to our request. As we moved in on them, the music changed to a slow number and I found myself with the tall girl in my arms.

'I am Inger,' she said, with a strong accent, and I told her my name, but much more communication seemed superfluous, as it was all I could do to avoid my burgeoning erection becoming a problem, especially when she bit my ear-lobe, and I felt the press of her sharp little breasts against my chest.

But she was talking to me. 'I see your wife is wearing no panties,' she said.

I made some sort of noise, I suppose, and she went on, 'She is lovely. I also like to wear no panties, but with this dress......' She flounced up her gown with one hand.

'I think you would look very beautiful without them,' I said.

'Then you can take them off for me,' she said, and stuck her tongue in my ear. I almost came, there and then.

I glanced around, and nobody seemed to be taking too much notice. Ginny was locked into a close dance with Inger's partner, his hands now stroking her naked buttocks under the hem off her nightdress, her arms around his neck. He seemed to be wearing a garment which looked like an Arabic dish-dash, a simple long white gown. I doubted he wore anything underneath it.

I reached down Inger's slender flank, bunched up her flimsy gown at that side and felt for the ribbons of her panties. Finding the loose end, I gave a quick tug and the garment yielded. I repeated the procedure at the other side, then tugged her panties off in a swift movement, bringing them up to my nose. I buried my face in them, taking in her delicious aroma, then slipped them into the pocket of my pyjamas. Her gown fell back to the floor around her long legs. I held her as close as I could, and used the proximity to gently massage her naked, shaven mound through her thin gown with one hand as we did what had to pass for dancing. Other couples were kissing and fondling one another with some disregard all over the patio by now, so that we raised no attention. Suddenly, we were dancing next to Ginny and Inger's partner, whom I soon learned was called Bjorn.

As ever, it was Ginny who made the suggestion, 'Let's go up to the apartment,' she said.

The others were eager to take her up on it, and Inger nodded to Bjorn, then we left the patio, the ladies leading the way. I stayed a little behind, delighting in the view as Ginny's short nightdress revealed her shaven pussy with each step she took. Inger, now naked under her transparent black gown, presented a tantalisingly erotic view as her long, shapely legs climbed the stairs. I could hardly wait to get between them.

As soon as we got into the apartment, Ginny led the way into our big double bedroom, and sat herself on the bed, inviting Inger to do likewise. I needed to fuck Inger as badly as I had wanted anything in my life, and Ginny sensed that, but made me wait – and Bjorn too.

She pulled Inger into her arms, and lifted the hem of her nightgown slowly, teasingly, up her legs, making sure we men watched, extending her tongue slightly, and cupping a breast with the other hand. Then, with Inger's ready assistance, she parted the Swedish girl's legs, and lowered her head down into her waiting crack. Inger responded by throwing her legs wider open still, and when Ginny raised her head, we could see that Inger's cunt was soaking, glistening with her juices. She moaned loudly as Ginny returned, her tongue delving into the younger girl's waiting cavern, as she thrust a finger straight up the blonde's rectum. She came with a resounding scream, and as she did so, Bjorn could take no more, and, lifting his dish-dash to reveal a huge erection, he dropped onto the bed and offered himself to Ginny's waiting lips. She took him deep into her throat, and he rammed his cock in and out of her mouth without regard for her, until he grunted that he was about to cum, and then he stiffened and shot his load straight down her throat. I had by now taken up position with Inger, who had recovered from her tonguing from Ginny, and was ready to multiply. Her breasts were incredibly sensitive, and I helped her off with her nightgown, then teased her long, prominent nipples to rock-hardness. She moaned incessantly as I did this, and reached for my weapon, which I knew wouldn't stand much action, but she was skilled – almost as experienced as Ginny – and stopped me from shooting before my time with a hard squeeze, then moaned harder as I found her clitoris. I was sure she climaxed again as I massaged the tiny bud, and then finger-fucked her, but it was something else she wanted. Stopping me suddenly, she turned over and opened her legs wide, then, her head buried in the pillow, she put her hands on her buttocks, one either cheek, and spread her arse as wide as she could in an unmistakeable invitation. Her arsehole was a wide, dark, mysterious cave, and I needed no further requests, but plunged my eager dick into its hospitable, well-used warmth, feeling the wonderful contraction of her muscles as she took my whole length into her velvet sheath. I reached around and cupped her breasts as I fucked her magnificent arsehole, and Ginny came up behind me, and stroked my back, then, just as I was about to cum, rammed a finger hard up my own tender arsehole, so that my pleasure, as I shot my hot load of creamy spunk deep into Inger's bowel, knew no bounds.

Bjorn found the strength to fuck Ginny before they left, but I was finished for the night, and curled up with a contented Inger, drinking brandy, and watching the proceedings.

For the rest of our stay in Ibiza, we went around together, the girls vying with each other as to who could wear the more revealing clothes. It was a wonderful week in the sun, on a beautiful island, with beautiful people. Since we returned, we have become even more daring. Ginny never wears panties, and she tells me about meetings she has been to with her publishing company, when she has revealed her pussy to unsuspecting people, and their reaction. I sometimes wonder if her exhibitionism is enough, as an end in itself, or if it is the situations that it can lead to...................