Sally's Story

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You've read my side of the story. Here's Sally's.
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grumpyg
grumpyg
933 Followers

Those who have read my first two stories will only have seen my (Brian's) version of events. This story is told through my wife's (Sally's) eyes. It is set in November 2012, on the south coast of Gran Canaria.

My thanks to CarolinaPeach for her help and advice.

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As usual we had an argument half way through our holiday. I do wish Brian would come shopping with me occasionally to help me choose clothes instead of grumping on that he doesn't like what I've bought. But, no. He insisted he wanted to go to the beach as it was a lovely warm day with a gentle cooling breeze.

In the end he gave me 150 euro to buy some clothes and we went our separate ways. Big deal! 150 euro might buy a dress and a pair of shoes but I had my plastic with me and that's all that mattered.

Fortunately Helen was at the bus stop, waiting for the bus into town. Like us, Mike, her husband, wouldn't come clothes shopping with her either. We both thought it an excellent chance to spend as we wished. Sod them - if they wouldn't come that was their problem. By the time the credit card bills arrived we would be home, so no chance of returning the goods.

It was only a short bus ride into town. We were soon at the main Yumbo centre and I just knew today was not going to be too bad after all. In almost all the clothes shops we visited we both went in to the same changing room. It was much easier helping each other with awkward zips and as we were both the same dress size we could try each others' choice of clothes on. It was much easier to judge how the clothes looked rather than relying on a mirror, and anyway we wanted to try on as much and as many as we could.

I wasn't too sure about one particular dress that Helen spotted. It had a much lower neckline than I would have normally bought but it looked good on her.

"Come on," said Helen, letting the dress slip off her, "Let's have a look at you in this. It costs nothing to try it on, give it a go, see what you think."

I didn't want to upset my new friend. "OK, like you say. I may as well."

Through the mirror it looked good although my bra was clearly showing.

"Here, let me see," said Helen, slipping the dress straps off my shoulders. She fussed and tugged at my bra, tucking the lace trim inside and in the process accidentally touching my nipples. I was most embarrassed that my nipples immediately responded to her inadvertant touch, stiffening into what Brian called 'stickyout mode'. Had a man caused such a reaction I would likely have slapped his face! Still not happy, she (unbelievedly) put her fingers well inside my bra to try and reposition my breasts. Everything happened so naturally and so fast I didn't have time to object. Breasts and bra duly repositioned she caught up the dress straps, smoothed out the fabric and I was looking at a new, more adventurous me in the mirror. My mistake. Helen was just being helpful. Simple!

"There you are! See what a difference!" She seemed proud in her attention. It wasn't till later I actually realised how forward she'd been, touching a part of me that very few others had done. To cap it all I was more than grateful to her.

I bought the dress. I would wear it that evening to show Brian. I was certain he'd approve.

-------

It was now lunchtime and we sat drinking lattes and munching on delicious pastries. It was only while we sat there that I noticed my panties had a certain familiar dampness, accompanied by an unusual but pleasant feeling, almost a tingle down there.

We compared notes. Helen decided we next try on lingerie to match the clothes we'd bought, especially that dress. Rested, 2 lattes and pastries later, we set off to do what Helen had suggested. Not till that evening had I realised that everything we had done had been at Helen's suggestion, never mine.

As before we shared the same changing room cubicle. We both picked lovely bra and panties sets we liked, Helen offering me her choice to match that dress. I had problem fastening the clasp on it. Helen told me to turn around so she could help. Before I had chance to speak she had the clasp fastened and ran her fingertips on my back from the clasp to the nape of my neck. That made me shiver.

"Wow," I said, "That took my by surprise! Why did you do that?"

Helen laughed, "Sorry. Your skin is so soft and smooth. I just couldn't resist. Mike often does that and every time it gives me a tingle when I'm not expecting it. I bet Brian can't resist either."

"Hmmmpf, Brian rarely does anything these days." I replied. "It's not very often we go out together so I don't get dressed up much. He works late, usually tired and at bedtime two minutes after his head hits the pillow he's fast asleep and snoring."

"Oh! That's so bad. But on holiday here with no work to do you must make up for lost time. Surely?"

I shook my head. "I really don't know what it is. Things just don't seem to go for us anymore." That was true, but why was I telling Helen all this? Simply because she had asked? Somebody cared for once?

"Listen," Helen remarked, "The shop isn't so busy and it's cooler in here. Turn around."

It was so long ago that I'd quite forgotten something like goosebumps could feel quite so special. Helen was in mischief mode. I did as she asked as I felt there was no other option. I felt the bra clasp being released, the straps being softly pushed away and the bra dropping to the floor. I was now stood just in panties, my dress on the changing room hook. Then I felt the fingers of both her hands tracing up and down my back. I shivered some more and felt my nipples harden. It felt so good I just stood there, amazed and wondered just how she could do something like that. Oddly I felt obliged to stand there, totally and utterly helpless.

It was as if Helen had magic, an electrical magic in her fingers that had a power over me. Time after time her fingers traced a line up and down my back, cool fingers touched the nape of my neck. Her hands gently massaged my shoulders. Then her fingers ran up and down my spine again. I honestly didn't want her to stop, it just felt so ... so ... so natural.

I really wasn't expecting what happened next. Was Helen just helping or ...? We were facing the mirror and she reached around, cupped underneath both my breasts and pushed upwards a little.

"You know, that extra bit of uplift works wonders. With the dress you bought earlier you could have every guy in the hotel begging."

I felt a warm soft kiss at the back of my neck. It's a place every guy seems to know by instinct ... guaranteed to give any woman a blissful shiver - goosebumps. But not just that, Helen's fingers reached round ever so gently to brush against my hardened nipples. I shut my eyes, helpless to do anything but enjoy the wonderful sensation. Kiss followed gentle kiss, all the time my tender, alert and very receptive nipples were blissfully sending messages of potent sexual energy to my very core.

And then, very abruptly, Helen looked at her watch. "Time's moving on," she said. "Here, help me try on this."

Her choice of bra was a couple of notches up the sexy ladder to mine; so sheer was the material that it may as well not be there. My head in a spin I fumbled clumsily with the hooks. She turned around. The very low cut meant that her areolae were clearly visible. Any lower and her nipples would have popped out. Following her lead I made to straighten the front up, using my forefinger and thumb. I was total confused but I found myself mimicking what she had done to me. I will never know why I gently brushed against her nipples trying to repay the pleasure she had given me. My fingers had developed a mind of their own.

This time Helen really caught me by surprise. Her hands went behind, delftly unhooked the bra, wiggled her shoulders and the item dropped off to the floor. Just for a moment we were stood facing; bright eyed and braless. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips.

Again, I don't know why but I responded immediately, opening my mouth, letting her tongue inside. Our breasts were together, skin against sensitive skin. The feeling was electric. My stomach had a strange, warm feeling. Butterflies were fluttering inside me, my senses reeled. I had a wonderful but confusing feeling inside me such as I've never felt since I was a teenager. I could feel the moisture, my lubrication seeping into my panties. Our breasts moved together as we altered the angles of our mouths to maximise the intense sexual feeling.

Rather than hold me to her, as Brian would have done, I felt her hands again lightly tickling my back. Then her hands cupped under my breasts, moving upwards and outwards. How was she to know the sides of my breasts were so sensitive? It was a feeling hard to describe, breast sliding silkily against breast, fingers lightly tickling the sides. Still caressing my breast with one hand, I felt the other go down to my panties, inside the elastic.

I pulled away suddenly. I was confused but with a kind of exhilarating confusion. This was something I liked, my stomach was knotted up but I felt wildly aroused, like a young thing enjoying a first kiss. I also felt a sharp pang of guilt. This was something I should not, could not be doing and I would not do. My head was reeling in total confusion. What felt so good wasn't true. She was a woman and so was I. She was married and so was I. Why the fuck did I feel like this?

"We .... we .... we really must get on," I feebly muttered. "We have o- o- other shops to see. We really must not be late for dinner. Brian will wonder where I am."

It was an excuse. It was barely 3pm. True there were several shops we hadn't seen but the bus back would only take 15 minutes or so. We had at least 2 hours to spend our plastic cash. Yes, I agreed with the ads, 'For everything else there was Mastercard'.

'But you haven't tried on that bikini," said Helen, replying to my feeble excuse.

Helen replaced her bra on the hanger. I picked up the bikini top and (without help this time) put it on. It fit perfectly. Somewhat self-consciously I pulled at my panties, let them drop to the floor.

"My, my," said Helen, reaching out and gently tugging at my bush, "Your lawn hasn't been mown recently."

I couldn't help but smile. "I've never heard it being called that before."

I had to agree with her though. My lawn was last mown ... when? Last Christmas? Yes, last Christmas when Brian had tried to go down there with his tongue. A kiss there was fine but licking there was dirty. Yes, dirty. I hadn't let him do that again. NO WAY! We were now nearing the end of autumn and it was getting overgrown. I mumbled something to the effect that Brian's gardening skills seemed to gone into retirement. What I really meant was that I hadn't really given the gardener the chance. I knew Brian would leap at the opportunity, but it would make him horny as hell and he would want to lick me like I was a street dog, a bitch. He would want to lick every dirty disgusting part of my fanny, my pussy, my cunt. My friends at the church ladies group certainly wouldn't have liked that. NO WAY.

No warning again! Helen pulled down her panties, showing a lawn that had been severely cut back. Indeed it was as if the lack of rain had left it smooth and totally bare.

"Tonight is your chance," Helen prompted. "Bottle of wine with dinner, a few drinks in the bar. Dutch courage. You ask him to do it tonight. I will be checking!"

Just how would she do that? I didn't know. Yes Helen was right. A trim tonight. Make me look good, clean, tidy, smooth. Smooth for the new bikini. Smooth to please Helen. Brian would love it but I would just stay still and silent. He could lick me clean for Helen. Helen was always right.

The bikini was fine. My shopping bill was to be paid by someone else. Brian should never have got me the plastic if he hadn't intended me using it. That's logical. Isn't it? Use it or lose it as the saying goes.

Nothing more was said by either of us about our time in the changing rooms. The Yumbo centre has a number of good bars. We had a drink or two, caught the bus and ... Heavens!!! Was that the time? Brian would have been back from the beach ages ago, we would be late for dinner and his stomach would be rumbling away. What the hell! Sod him! Helen and I had spent a fantastic day doing what women do well. My spirits were high and woe betide anyone who spoiled that in any way. And my plastic? It was in meltdown.

--------

Back at the hotel Brian was sat watching some Spanish football on the TV in our room. He told me he too had lost track of the time and had arrived back only 15 minutes or so ago. Surprisingly he was in high spirits, doubtless having enjoyed the freedom of being on the beach, to ogle any fair lady there without me cajoling or nagging.

We got showered and changed and went down for dinner. On the way down I'd suggested a bottle of wine and Brian agreed. It was a good wine, a lovely Spanish rose and very drinkable.

After the meal we spent a while in the piano bar. One or two drinks there, my earlier drinks at Yumbo and half-a-bottle of wine were making me feel good, less inhibitions and after this afternoon's events, quite horny. While the men were at the bar Helen moved over.

"Don't forget. Tell the gardener he needs to cut the lawn. There's an important International football match tomorrow evening -- in the other bar on the big screen. Mike is going there early to get a seat and I know Brian will be interested. You won't be wanting to watch it, nor will I. (And with a wink) I told Mike that you and I will be taking the chance to talk about clothes. It's room 2043. You'll be there."

I didn't know what was to come but I was still well damp from earlier. It seemed like an order and I was obeying without question. Helen was always right. I would be clean and I would be there for Helen. This woman was really in my head, offering what Brian was neglecting: fun, pleasure, excitement and sex.

"Yes, sure. I'll be there."

Mike and Brian came back from the bar and the usual chit-chat went on, to the background of piano music. Brian had more-or-less told me what he'd done that afternoon and I didn't really mind. If he was only looking at the ladies that was fine by me. It had really perked him up so we were both in really good spirits when we retired to our room. I was feeling as horny as hell and I was going to ask if he'd mow the grass for me. Instead, simply so he'd understand, I said I wanted a trim. Providing all went well I felt in the mood to relax on the beach the following day wearing my new bikini. And if I felt the same as I did just then it would be only half the bikini.

Brian didn't need asking twice. I'd really missed those sessions and after today l felt I should ask him to do it more. Keep the lawn well mowed all season - Helen would like that. Those old dears at my Monday club are really sweet but I felt Brian was suffering because I'd stuck to their old style morals. Heavens, I'd trusted him on his own on the beach with lots of young ladies topless ... And from what he'd freely admitted to me, some bottomless as well! Still, it was only window shopping and most of them would have been Spanish or German and not understood him. Still, a pervy look is the same in any language. I smiled to myself. Had he embarrassed himself looking too much, ending up with a stiffie? And he was about to shave me. Some of those young ladies would have been totally nude I'm sure. Randy devil Brian. No wonder he was in a good mood.

Ooh, yes. Now he was carefully running the razor over my pubis and I was getting hornier by the minute. Why can't you always give me time Brian? Let me have a bit more pleasure before you poke that swollen thing in me.

I couldn't help but remember that time when Sophie, our daughter, went to Ibiza. That bikini she had set her heart on. Trimming Sophie! He made out he didn't want to ... too embarrassed. What a load of rot. Horny devil will have wanked off many a time - I even supplied him with some of her panties. He-he! I hope all that wanking made him sore, randy devil. And what about Julie? He doesn't know Sophie let it slip. She said Brian had only helped out ...... Hmmm!

Ooohh Brian, no not there. Noooooo. Yes. Oh yes, please Brian. No Brian, kiss me there. Did you kiss Sophie there, Brian? Did you ... Oh Brian, no Brian, not lick. No. No. No. Brian. Dirty Brian. No, clean, yes clean. Clean for Helen. Yes, nice, smooth, clean, yes. Lick Brian. Lick me there Brian. Yes, yes, yes.

Ohhhhhhhh!!!!!

Oh. My God!!!!

--------

The following day following breakfast we went down to the beach, hand in hand. Yes!! Brian's beach. I didn't know where to look. All those cocks hanging down. No, never .... Not that long!!!!? If I hadn't seen with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed. Maybe we should go there again.

By the time we'd been down there an hour I was beginning to feel out of place. Time to show everyone Brian's gardening skills. Well, well! Whoever thought any of those guys would want to look at me? Yes, look at me, admire my nice clean pussy lips. Clean, smooth pussy lips for Helen.

-------

After an early dinner at the hotel Brian and Mike went off to watch the football. The butterflies in my stomach were at work again as I followed Helen up to room 2043. I was following like a little puppy, waiting for my reward.

"So, Sally. Did Brian mow your lawn? Come on, don't be shy."

She stood waiting, I stood blushing. I could feel dampness beginning. You know the feeling you get? I simply couldn't make the feeling go away. I unzipped my dress, let it fall to the floor. My panties soon followed. I felt as if I were under Helen's spell, compelled to show her.

Helen moved across the room, moved her hand down and touched me. There. Where the grass had been mown. She never hesitated, ran her finger along as if searching.

"It's fine so far, can't feel any odd hairs. Brian has done a good job. I hope you rewarded him?"

I felt spellbound. I meekly nodded. "Yes."

Helen patted the bed, "I have to check further." I lay down as told, opened my legs, waited for Helen's analysis.

She spread my pussy lips as if it were a doctor's exam. Deftly and swiftly she lightly traced a finger around my exposed lips. They were wet, lubricated with plenty of moisture to allow her comfortable access. I felt every movement as if her finger had a magic vibrator implanted. I had a familiar feeling in my pussy. A shiver of pure pleasure moved quickly through me. Helen couldn't help but notice.

"Brian has done well. Very well. Not a trace of hair. I must have him shave me."

I thought again about Sophie. Had Brian given her his ultimate care? Had he kissed her like he kissed me? Had she really appreciated the new smooth look? Did her pussy feel airy and fresh? She wouldn't even have noticed I borrowed a pair of her panties. She never queried why I hadn't had time to wash a pair and she would have to put the same ones on again. Had he offered her friend the same attention? Had they both rewarded him?

I had been lost in my thoughts. Helen's checks for spare hair were now a persistent but gentle probing. One, then two fingers were easing inside me. A soft movement, lightly tingling at first but then the feeling sank a little deeper inside. Then it stopped, fingers withdrawn, glistened digits were rubbing ever so easily over my clit. Practiced, patient, unhurried, intent on pleasing me. I just didn't want to move as the finger was replaced by a warm wet tongue. My clit was alive again - a kind of warm glow that was slowly moving outwards, radiating from my clit into the sensitive surrounding tissue. She took me right to the very edge and STOPPED. Bitch!

A pause for a few seconds then a new sensation, one that I had never before experienced. Helen was touching my bottom, my anus. The odd sensation at first soon became very pleasant, very pleasant indeed. Her finger was not intruding inside me, not entering, just a fingernail scratch, just a little pressure from her fingertip moving ever so slightly round the puckered rim of my anus. The sensation there amazed me. Surely that place my body used to dispose of rubbish couldn't give such pleasure, could it? Helen kept this up for several minutes, ever so slight movements with her finger on the rim were giving me the most blissful feelings.

grumpyg
grumpyg
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