She Wore White Long Johns

I'm not sure which one of us was most relieved to be in our bedroom tearing at our clothes and fucking like two teenagers less than ten minutes later.

Of course we talked about her. Of course we talked about our feelings and reactions to her, what she had done and what we had seen. I say 'of course' for that is how Kevin and my relationship works. It is very open, more so than most of our friends. We can talk about sex as well as indulge in it. I know that he probably isn't faithful and he knows that I know that. That somehow, releases our inhibitions when speaking about other men and women and me asking if he fancies a girl or not. More to the point, it also enables us to speak about sexual diversions, swinging, threesomes, both ffm and mmf, me with another woman and him wanting to see me with both another girl and another guy, not necessarily, although I know he wouldn't resist, both at the same time!

It also, somehow, brings more creativity, adventure, ambition and experimentation to our sex life.

That's why earlier this week after I, mainly, had watched 'our friend' in her sexy long johns, he had shagged me talking about her. Talking as though he was shagging her and not me 'I'm sucking one of her delicious little tits into my mouth' as he sucked on my full breasts. Talking also as if it was her fucking me and not him. "Can you imagine her tongue doing this Mands?" as he licked my pussy. I had to admit, to myself that is not to him, openness only goes so far, that I could very easily imagine her doing that to me!

This spirit of freedom and adventure is also the reason why earlier this week I sucked him to complete fulfilment. I let him fuck my face, cum in my mouth and why I swallowed most of what he deposited in my throat.

It was also that, combined with both our arousals from her overt exhibitionism, which were the prime causes of me now being laid naked on my front on our bed. Why my legs were parted, why Kevin had put two pillows under my tummy and why my bottom was stuck in the air. It was why he was now smoothing baby oil in the crease of my bum slowly massaging it into the brown, puckered skin outside and slightly inside my anus.

It was why, as I glanced up at him, I saw him smoothing more oil into his wonderfully hard cock. And it was for those reasons, more than anything else, why he fucked me up my arse that night.

Chapter 5

It was our last day. We were leaving the hotel around five and Kevin had arranged a late checkout.

"I'll be back by the latest two thirty so please be packed and ready to go," he was saying as he got dressed while I stayed in bed, nursing my slightly sore bum and aching sphincter muscle.

The weather was forecast to be sunny, but windy. Warm enough for a last bout of sunbathing, as long as I could find somewhere out of the wind.

I slipped into a pretty, pale yellow, quite brief bikini that was cut acutely across each of my boobs leaving as much as possible, without flashing my nips. Tying a long white wrap round me and putting on medium height pumps, I got my stuff together and went down to the pool.

I had remembered that there was an area in the pool which was up a level and was sheltered from the wind. As I climbed the stone steps to that area, I heard people talking and as I got to the top I saw that it was her and a few of her 'gang.' They all looked at me as I settled myself onto one of the hugely comfortable loungers across the deck from them. She, particularly, kept glancing at me, although once more she made no sign of recognition or acknowledgement.

I lay back on the bed and, although there was a quite chilly breeze it wasn't too bad, so I luxuriated in the sun warming my body. In the distance, I could hear noises from the other group, but that didn't, stop me dozing off.

I guess I slept for half an hour or so, but woke with a start. Looking up, I saw that I was alone on that patio. I sat up thinking it was an ideal time for some topless work, so I slipped my bra off and laid back. It felt wonderful: there's a sort of feeling of liberation about being topless; I can see why they burned their bras in the '60s!

I guess I had been like that for no more than five minutes when I heard the sound of a lounger being moved. I instinctively lifted my bra up covering my breasts, but didn't put the straps over my shoulders or do up the clasp. I Iooked up, it was her. I looked round and realised we were the only people at the pool; my heart immediately started to pound.

She was moving her lounger into a more secluded spot out of the wind. She was wearing a thong and a very small bra, both were black, and her heeled pumps with the transparent plastic strap. She sat on her lounger with a leg over either side so they were wide open. She was also wearing big sunglasses so, although I thought she stared at me several times, I couldn't be sure. She reached into her bag and brought out her sun oil. Possibly looking at me, she slowly and deliberately undid the top and then applied the oil to her arms and shoulders, then to her upper legs, then, putting each foot in turn onto the side of the lounger, she did each lower leg. Still with her legs open and her feet on the floor on either side of the sun bed, she put the bottle down in front of her, between her thighs. I felt sure she was holding my gaze, but neither of us could be certain, as she reached behind her, Whether her eyes were staring into mine, or whether it was just our black glasses looking at each other I had no way of knowing, but neither head seemed to move at all; they were directed straight at the other person.

She stayed like that with her arms behind her back, her small breasts pushed out, her legs open, her feet on the floor on either side of the lounger as she, presumably, fumbled with her strap. Slowly, frustratingly, excitingly and I am sure purposefully, she peeled the bra away from her breasts. As she exposed those to me, I think a small whimper escaped from my mouth; certainly I felt a strong surge of sexual excitement. Why?

Her black glasses seemed to be boring into mine as she picked up her bottle of oil, as she poured a goodly portion into her hand and as she put the bottle down again, this time the top was almost touching her thong I noticed, thinking she was simulating being shagged! Her glasses seemed to look at me with more intensity, but as I could not see her actual eyes that may just have been my imagination. Slowly she lifted her hand level with her breast, equally slowly she opened her hand and straightened her fingers and then, possibly even more slowly, she gently rubbed the oil into the top of her left boob.

I was boiling up inside. My pulse was pounding and my clit just seemed to explode. It sent urgent signals to my nipples which burst into erect fullness and started to ache with need. My breasts started to feel so heavy, full and warm. I couldn't believe how my body was treating me, betraying me really. It was as though an orgasm was starting to build up in me. Me, having an orgasm from looking at another woman rubbing sun oil into her boobs; what the hell was happening? I began to doubt my belief that 'I'm not into women am I?'

I watched with incredulity as with one hand she massaged the oil into her breast and with the other she removed her glasses. I could see her eyes. They were staring at me, intently. She nodded. I didn't get what she meant. She nodded again, I still didn't understand, but did I want to, dare I find out what the signal meant? Then she lifted her glasses and pointed them at me. I understood, she was asking me to take mine off. My first thought was to do so, but then a second thought was 'How can I be so in her power? Why should I do as she asked?'

I had no answers, but found myself removing them. Our eyes met, she smiled, slightly, more a half grin really. I tried to smile back, but found that difficult due to the range of emotions rushing through me. She put her glasses down and poured more oil, this time into both hands.

It probably was the most erotic thing I had ever seen and 'Just what the hell is happening to me' went through my head once more, as my temperature probably went off the scale when she cupped both of her breasts. She made absolutely no pretence of it being a 'rubbing the sun oil in' gesture. There was no acting, no pretending and no charade. No, what she was doing was caressing herself, stroking herself, in fact, starting to masturbate herself.

And now she did actually stare at me. She did hold strong eye contact and our gazes did really linger on each other. Yes I was staring at her every bit as intently as she was at me as she rubbed and kneaded, squeezed and stroked her breasts and then, moved on to pinching and pulling her dark nipples. Her eyes were half closed, but still looking at me, her mouth was slightly open and her tongue occasionally ran round her beautiful lips. I could see that she was breathing heavier, panting slightly, taking in deeper breaths and that her chest was pumping a little. It was an amazing sight.

She must have seen my interest and noticed my arousal, it was unavoidable. Maybe this is what we had been working up to since that evening when she was wearing those long johns and she pointed her foot at me? Had she selected me then? If so, how could she have known the effect she would make on me. If anyone had told me beforehand that I would have experienced all the excitement she had given me, I would have said they were mad, after all, women do nothing to me sexually, do they?

So, if that was the case, I was thinking to myself: why am I panting, why am I aroused, why are my nipples like bullets and why are the panties of my bikini probably totally soaked?

If this incredible young woman hadn't developed some sort of hold over me, why was I watching her caress her own breasts, why had I stared at her so much in the restaurant and round the pool, why had I removed my sun glasses when she indicated me to and why was I now watching her raising her eyebrows as she let one of her hands drop onto her bra lying beside her. It was another signal, that was clear. This time, though, the message was equally clear and my response was equally predictable, well at least to her and me. Arching my back and then leaning forward I let my bra fall slowly away from my breasts. For some unfathomable reason, the look of sheer pleasure and excitement on her face as I revealed my full breasts to her was a truly amazing turn on for me. As I sat up straight, trying to make sure they didn't sag, I felt so wanted as her eyes seemed to devour my breasts.

We sat there staring at each other. I watched fascinated as she continued squeezing and caressing her breasts, pinching the nipples, cupping each boob and pushing them together in the way that women do as they start to masturbate.

I suppose it was inevitable. I guess it had to happen. I suppose she had been priming me for it all the time. How she had, I had no idea. Why I was so interested and aroused, I didn't know. All I did know was that for some obtuse and unexplainable reason I wanted to please her, excite her and arouse her. Yes, I suppose I wanted to make her want me.

I saw that she had raised her eyebrows and opened her eyes wide. As I returned her intense gaze, she parted her lips and ran her tongue round them, she had a particularly full bottom lip, I noted. She ran her gaze up and down my body, returning each time to my breasts. Involuntarily I pushed my shoulders back thus pushing my boobs out. I wanted her to stare at them, admire them, like them and, I realised, want them. God, what was I thinking, but of more import what was I now doing?

Without thinking, without even giving it a moment's consideration, I was lifting my hands. It was as if they were being controlled by another force, directed by something other than my mind. I felt helpless, it was as if I was hypnotised and had no control at all as my hands found my breasts, as they cupped the orbs, lifted them and then squeezed them. She stared even more intently at me, the smile being slightly more pronounced. She lifted her breasts, I did the same; she squeezed the flesh, I did to; she pinched her nipples, I followed her lead. We watched each other caressing our breasts. I had never seen a woman do that before. I found it hugely exciting. Strangely, it wasn't seeing her hands on her nipples and boobs that thrilled me most, it was the look on her face. The half closed eyes, the head tilted back slightly, the tightness round her slightly opened mouth and her tongue on that voluptuous lower lip; they were the real turn ons, in many ways.

But overridingly, the biggest turn on, was her watching me caress myself. I loved the attention, the adoration, I suppose. I enjoyed, I realised, exhibiting myself to her and in a public place. It wasn't too dangerous, for we would probably hear someone if they came up the stairs, but the thought was there.

I was becoming very excited. My breasts felt so full and hot and my clit was pounding with sensation. I was losing reason, I knew that, well one does when sexually agitated. So when she snuggled back a little, brought her feet up from the floor, laid flat on the lounger and let her hand trail down her body, I guessed what she was about to do.

As her eyes bored into mine, I saw her hand slide past her slim waist, over her, almost impossibly, flat tummy and onto her mound covered by the thin material of the flimsy thong, , I knew that my hand too would make a similar journey. Her eyes were willing me to, asking me to, directing me to and, really, I felt, ordering me to. She seemed to have enormous influence, power and control over me. It was to a level I could not comprehend and certainly could not combat. I felt like putty in her hands so, as she stared and nodded at me, my hand also undertook that journey.

It was a heavenly feeling to have my hand cupping my mound as my fingers pressed against my clit and lips. It was even more heavenly, in some ways, to be watching her do the same and even more so to have her watching me masturbate, something only my husband has ever witnessed. Masturbate? What the fuck was I thinking? Me masturbating, but I was, just as she was and just as we were for each other. But as unlikely as I would have thought this had anyone, even Kevin, suggested it earlier that is exactly what I was doing. And wonderfully it was exactly what she was doing as well.

Now though, she had slid inside her thong and I had followed by slipping my fingers into my panties and revelling in the warmth of my own pussy and cum juices on my fingers.

It was obviously many things it was inevitably a combination of those that pushed me over the top. But there was one thing that did more for me to reach my orgasm tipping point than all the others. That was the deep, long moan that slid from her mouth. It was so erotic, simply the sexiest sound I had ever heard. And it sent me fucking crazy. I plunged my fingers deep inside myself trying to wreak every last bit of pleasure from them, my lips and my clit as wave after wave of such sensational feelings engulfed me.

Although my eyes were clamped shut most of the time, I flicked them open now and then to gaze at my gorgeously, climaxing companion. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed her mouth was open. She was squeezing one of her nice little breasts and pinching the dark nipple with one hand as the fingers on the other slid in and out of her. The pouch of her thong was now pushed down and to one side a little and I could clearly see her fingers pumping in and out of her plump lips, which were now clearly on view. 'She wants me to see her,' I was thinking as I roared into the eye of the hurricane of my climax. 'She wants to show me her pussy,' I thought further as my mind seemed to explode as I realised, 'She wants me to look at her cunt,' So I opened my eyes.

Chapter 6

We were back home, we had been there a couple of days. I had left Kevin in the house as I went shopping. He was gone when I returned. I went into the main bedroom to get my gym gear.

'What the hell's that?' I thought seeing a plastic bag on the bed. I smiled as I looked closer and read the note.

"You won't need to stare at an exhibitionist now will you? You can be one.

Enjoy

K"

Where the hell he had got a pair of long johns from I had no idea.