Linda's All-Over Tan

I was disappointed, but, during Friday, I kept glancing at the glasses in my desk. At about three o'clock, I finally gave in to temptation. After all, I thought, I had to give my scheme a trial run, just to make sure there were no obvious flaws. I slipped the glasses into my jacket pocket, and left. I parked the car at a farm gate about a hundred yards away from the door in the wall and, feeling like a fugitive, ran across the deserted lane and opened the door.

Locking it behind me, I stepped carefully through the trees until I reached the last row. I didn't need the binoculars to see that there were four people on loungers at the house end of the pool. My heart began to race and my fingers trembled as I extracted the binoculars from their case.

Keeping carefully in the trees, I raised them to my eyes. They didn't need adjusting, as I had tried them out, at a similar distance, through the office window, and I got a shock as I swung them round and found myself looking full into the face of Peter. It felt as though I was standing beside him! I automatically dropped my hands, then, my nerve returning, I focussed on him, again, and adjusted the distance so that I could see him from head to toe.

He was wearing only swimming trunks, and he was drinking from a tall glass. My dry mouth envied him, at that moment, but then I swung the glasses to the next lounger.

The woman on the lounger was a stranger to me, but I guessed she was Jennifer's sister. Her hair was a similar colour, but she was smaller, and rounder, and, I guessed, probably a little older. But, most importantly, she was wearing only bikini bottoms, and my gaze was immediately fixed on her bare breasts! They were about the same size as Jennifer's, but not so firm, and, from what I could recall, her nipples were much larger and thicker.

I quickly swung round to the others. Jennifer was beside her sister and, to my delight, her large firm tits were also on display, although I was disappointed to see that she, too, was wearing bikini bottoms. The two women were facing each other, talking, and I watched their tits moving as they spread their arms and moved their hands.

As expected, the fourth person was a man, presumably Jennifer's brother-in-law. He was tall, like Peter, but much thinner, with sparse fair hair, also wearing swimming-trunks. As I watched, he stood up and slipped on a shirt, short and sandals and addressed his wife. Then he raised a hand to the others and opened the gate and I watched him go over to a car and set off down the drive.

I watched for about another five minutes but I was beginning to get bored. Then Jennifer and her sister stood up and, after a word with Peter, put on their tops, walked out together and disappeared into the house. I was not about to spend the next half hour observing Peter's hairy chest and I had actually started putting the glasses away when I saw Jennifer, now dressed in a shirt and casual trousers, emerge from the kitchen door and drive off in her little car.

I lingered for a few seconds as the car disappeared down the drive, then saw her sister return through the pool gate, carrying two tall glasses. She was still wearing her bikini and, after putting the glasses down on a glass table beside Peter, swiftly untied the halter of her top and pulled it away.

By this time, the binoculars were back to my eyes – and I watched, with disbelief, as she sat down on the edge of Peter's lounger, and he reached up and put his hand on her bare breast! She smiled, then leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, while his hand squeezed her tit. I watched in disbelief as her hand snaked under the waistband of Peter's swimming-trunks.

He broke off the kiss and looked at the watch on his left wrist. Her hand was still playing with his cock, inside his trunks. He said something to her and she nodded, eagerly. They stood up and the woman, slipping her hand out of his trunks, picked up her bikini top.

Leaving the drinks on the table, they turned and walked to the pool exit. As they walked, Peter slipped his hand down the back of her bikini bottoms, and she wriggled in evident delight. They disappeared in the kitchen door and I scanned the upstairs windows at the back of the house, but without success.

My hands were shaking as I lowered the glasses and put them away.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The calendar in the kitchen showed that Linda had a tennis appointment with Jennifer at 1 o'clock on Friday afternoon, so I began to make arrangements for an early finish from work. By now, I was becoming obsessed, not so much with spying on Jennifer in the nude, but on my own wife! I had begun to try to watch her in the house when she thought she was unobserved, and it always gave me a hard-on. Even lying in bed and catching sight of her tits in the mirror, when she thought she had her back to me, got me going.

And, always, at the back of my mind, was the guilty thrill I got out of the thought of someone else – some other man – seeing what I was seeing; his balls tightening and his prick rising just as mine did. I hadn't dared bring up the subject of her displaying herself on the tennis court again, for fear of betraying my excitement, but I had begun to get her to talk a little about her sexual experiences before we met.

These, for reasons of jealousy and possessiveness, had been "off limits" before – and still were, in 'normal' conversation – but now, while we were making love, I could sometimes get her to tell me about what she had done with various boys in her "past". Mainly, these were stories about exploits in the back seat of a car with some boy, ending up with Linda's blouse open and her bra undone, having her teenage tits well and truly felt – then fending off, so she said, the hand groping up her thigh towards her panties.

I usually came once she started describing, in detail, what the boy had done to her breasts and nipples, with either hand or mouth, or both, so she never had to confess anything really incriminating. I knew she hadn't been a virgin when we met, but I didn't really have the stomach, then, to listen to her describe how some guy's prick had slid between her open legs, up her welcoming vagina. I was still something of an idealist, then!

At last, Friday arrived, and I was like a cat on hot bricks as I waited for three o'clock, and my planned departure. At last, I was out, and driving like a bat out of hell along the dry dusty country lanes.

As before, I parked and ran over to the door in the wall, opening it without difficulty, and, as I reached the end of the trees, I could tell, with a thrill of pleasure, that they were both at the poolside.

I stationed myself by the side of a tree and took my binoculars out of their case.

Jennifer and Linda were sitting on upright chairs, with a table between them, on which was an ice-bucket, holding a bottle of wine, and two glasses. They were both naked and, although talking earnestly, both reclining so as to catch the sun on their upturned faces, chests and legs.

They made a delightful contrast – Jennifer's tall, powerful body with large firm breasts and thighs, and her dark brown hair, compared with Linda's blonde slimness and small round breasts. The crazy thing was that it was Linda, my own wife, on whom my glasses dwelt most often, admiring her firm little tits with their unexpectedly large, thick nipples, and often travelling down to catch a glimpse of the blonde tuft of hair between her crossed thighs.

Jennifer's legs were parted and my eyes were continually drawn to the thick bush, which almost completely concealed the puffy pink lips which Linda had described so graphically to me more than once. It was the hairiest one I had ever seen and I found it a real-turn-on, especially comparing it with Linda's.

I wished they were sitting closer together so that I could see both their pubes at the same time, but I consoled myself with the thought that this might happen on a future occasion. Oh, how I hoped the long hot summer would never end!

I spied on them for about half an hour, but, eventually, the first thrill having worn off, and the only real movement having been downward, in the level of the wine bottle, I decided to call it a day and go home to prepare for my lovely wife's return.

As soon as she came in, I could tell she had had a bit more wine than she was used to – and also that she was more than a little turned on! Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were pink with suppressed excitement, but, when I slid my hand under her tennis dress to cup her bottom when we kissed, she pushed it away.

"Not just now," she said, breathlessly. "I've got something to tell you - first."

I reluctantly removed my hand, clinging to that "first". After my afternoon's experiences, I wanted Linda, badly, and I didn't fancy having to listen to a load of gossip before we got down to business. We sat down at opposite sides of the kitchen table, after Linda had made coffee, and I asked her what the "big news" was.

"It's about Peter and Jennifer," she said, and my mouth dried. Two things flashed immediately into my mind. Had Jennifer told Linda about our encounter in the Land Rover last year – or had Peter walked in and caught Linda naked by the side of his pool?

There was something about Peter that made me uneasy, should Linda catch his fancy. The plain fact was, the guy gave me an inferiority complex. He was taller than me; better-looking; richer; more upper-class – and he had this incredible self-assurance. I put it down to his years in the army, where he had obviously been in control of large numbers of men – and it showed now. He was president of the tennis club, and half a dozen other local organisations. He had been the town mayor and he was on friendly, social terms with all the local gentry – MPs and titled people and gentleman farmers.

But Linda's next words put my mind at rest – at least on both of those counts.

"She was telling me the most amazing things about their sex life!" Linda said, excitedly. "I couldn't believe she was telling me all this! I think it must have been the wine, but – phew!"

My balls tightened in anticipation.

"Oh," I said, trying to appear only casually interested. "What was she saying?"

"Oh, all sorts!" Linda giggled. "I don't know where to start!"

"What about the beginning?" I suggested.

"Well," she said, "for a start, they make love at least once every day – usually two or three times, ever since they were married. She says he's insatiable! He screws her every night before they go to sleep; if he wakes up during the night, he has her again; and he usually does it again when they wake up! And they've been married for seventeen years!"

"Does she never say 'No'", I asked, and Linda's face became serious.

"She doesn't dare," she replied. "I know you wouldn't think so, knowing her, but she does absolutely everything he says. It's not that she's scared of him – not, sort of, physically - he wouldn't hit her, or anything – but he's dominated her right from the start and she just wouldn't know how to refuse him, now."

"Does she ever want to" I asked.

"She didn't say – but there must be times when …… I mean, it's only natural. There must be times when she doesn't feel like it."

"Well," I said. "It's probably unusual, but it's hardly amazing."

"Ah," said Linda, with a note of triumph. "But he has affairs, as well! And he doesn't hide them from Jennifer! He's been totally open, from the start. They didn't do it before they married, because he wanted her to be a virgin on their wedding night – and she was! They went on honeymoon to America and Jennifer says she spent two whole weeks on her back – except when he wanted her in a different position! – and then, the day before they came home, Peter spelt it out to her, what he expected of her, as his wife. And that included him having affairs."

"And what about her?"

"Oh, no," said Linda. "There was to be none of that – and she hasn't. She hasn't looked at another man."

"Oh, yeah," I thought.

"He's been having Jennifer's sister, Laura, on and off, for about ten years, now," Linda added. "Jennifer said he was screwing her last weekend, when they were staying there."

I said nothing, a picture of Peter's hand snaking into Laura's bikini pants filling my mind's eye.

"Well," I said. "I suppose, really, I'm not too surprised, knowing what Peter's like, and ….."

But Linda interrupted. "Ah, but that's not all. After they had been married about a year, Peter's regiment was posted to Singapore, and they had a really hectic social life with the white community there. There was definitely a 'swinging' community there, and certain parties were rumoured to have wife-swapping, and so on."

"But, for Peter and Jennifer, it was mainly all dinners, and bridge, and so on, but one night, they were at a dinner party with three other couples at some plantation owner's house, and the men got into a silly gambling game."

"After a while, they got tired of playing for money, and they smeared their drink glasses with some sweet stuff and started betting on which glass would be the first to have a fly land on it. And whoever's glass it landed on, his wife had to remove an item of clothing! Jennifer was the youngest one there. The others were middle-aged – and they had all played the game before. They told her the worst that ever happened was that they got down to their underwear, then their husbands called a halt."

"So, although she was very unhappy about it, Jennifer pretended it was all a bit of fun, for Peter's sake, and joined in. But Peter had a run of bad luck and, fairly soon, Jennifer found herself taking off her dress, leaving her in just her bra and panties."

"She was very embarrassed. The other women hadn't lost very much at all, but the other husbands had a good look, then laughed and declared the game over. But Peter had had a lot to drink, and he hates to lose, and he said they should have one last bet."

"If he didn't lose – if the fly landed on one of the other glasses – each of the men had to give him a hundred pounds, but, if he lost, Jennifer was to take off everything, and serve drinks, like that, for the next half hour."

"And what happened?" I asked, unsteadily.

"Jennifer said it took ages before a fly settled – and it landed on Peter's glass! She said it was awful! Peter told her to take off her bra, and then her panties, and then she had to walk about with a wine bottle, filling everyone's glasses – completely naked! She said that, until then, Peter was the only man who had ever seen her naked. At first, the other men tried not to look at her, but it was the women who started talking about how firm her breasts were, and her bottom, and, before the half hour was finished, their eyes were on her, all the time."

"The only one who didn't speak was Peter. He never spoke about it –then, or after – and Jennifer always had the feeling that he blamed her for it happening."

"Bloody hell!" was all I could think of to say.

Linda leaned across the table and took my hand.

"Have you got a hard-on, now?" she said, a wicked little smile on her face. I nodded, then jumped as her other hand reached under the table and found it.

"Let's go to bed, and I'll tell you some more," she breathed.

(To be continued)

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