Shireen's Story: From Her Viewpoint

"He wonders if he could see you in one."

"Are you nuts?" I responded, "and why should I do what he wants?"

"Okay, I would like to see you in one too."

I appeared uninterested, and he looked like he was getting concerned that more and more people were coming around to stare at me.

"Shireen, you would be the best looking female here if you were wearing a bikini," he appealed to the base sense of every woman.

"No way," I quickly retorted, "and in case you have something on your mind, the bikinis are all the way back at the house and I am not going back again by myself!"

"Tell you what, I'll come along and we will be back in no time," he continued to badger me, "and given the event, it is a fair request."

Figuring that he was adamant, and egged on by a couple of the guys who had heard him whisper the word "bikini" I grabbed his arm and pointed us homewards.

Entering the house, I slammed the door shut, pushed Akbar onto a plush armchair and whipped my swimsuit off in an instant. "Fuck me right now," I ordered, removing his shorts and placing my very wet pussy onto his rock hard cock, sighing as he filled up my interior. Our mouths came together as I rode Akbar with single-minded intent. Neither of us lasted long and I shrieked with pleasure as he shot his load inside me. I rested my head against his chest for a few minutes and then jumped up and out of the chair, running for the stairs to our bedroom. As we disentangled, I saw that the window curtains had not been drawn and made out the form of Lana, standing just outside and maybe having seen our lovemaking.

"Come on, we have to get back to the party," I reminded Akbar, putting Lana out of mind.

I ran up the stairs to change into an even more abbreviated outfit. For some unfathomable reason, I could care less about modesty at the time. After all, if my love was into my state of undress than why not let him enjoy the spectacle! I really felt like the belle of the ball! A knock on the door was followed by Akbar having a word with Lana. I had already surmised that she had seen some, if not all, of our antics during the past few minutes.

"Tell Shireen to put on some fancy heels when she comes out, you'll like the impact she has!"

"But it is slippery out there," I protested loudly.

"Oh I am sure you can handle slippery situations," Lana yelled back, before I heard the door shut.

I passed on a shower, figuring it would delay our return, and checked out the bikinis still lying on my bed. I walked down, wearing a dark blue bikini, with a front clasp, which left much of my sizable breasts on display. The bottom was also barely covering anything and stayed put due to lacy bow ties on each side. Taking Lana's suggestion, I had added a sexy pair of heels. Akbar followed as I shot out the front door, still carrying his musk on me.

If the catcalls had been loud, when I had appeared in the swimsuit, the response this time was absolute cacophony. Framed by the light behind, I decided to play a little, and struck a sexy pose. Akbar ran right into me, not realizing I had stopped. Luckily I lifted an arm and hooked it around his neck just in time, stabilizing us both. "I guess both Hernan and you will be quite happy with the new outfit!" I quipped.

"Stay there, you two," Ghassan directed us as he lifted a camera to his face. I wondered where he would be getting the film developed, but I was still was quite happy posing for a couple of shots with Akbar and a lot more just by myself.

"I'll get them developed in Beirut next week," he assured us, "and I am sure you will like the results."

I felt that Akbar was a bit concerned that Ghassan was taking pictures of me relatively unclothed. It was strange that jealousy and concern were coming to the fore given that he had prompted me into the bikini in the first place.

Hernan's eyes nearly popped out and his midsection also twitched noticeably as I went up to him, twirled slowly, and whispered, "Is this what you were expecting?" into his ear. He could hardly swallow a morsel of the barbecue, as his eyes stayed on me throughout dinner time. I bet he was sizing me up for potential dessert!

Ron and Hicham, two of the bachelors at the party, suggested we join their team for the game of pool volleyball that was just about to start, the food having been dispensed with. I reminded them that I could not swim but was reassured that the game was now set up across the shallow end and that I would be able to stand easily while playing. As we entered the pool, the game referee stopped Akbar, saying that the teams already had an equal number of female and male players with my arrival. He did not protest and went off to chat with Lana and a few other folk.

As I entered, the guys splashed water on me. I also got into the mood and reacted, splashing back. The guys kept getting closer and finally started brushing up against me during and at the end of each point. By this time I was too much into the game to care, given that the teams were neck and neck. I wondered if something was up, but decided to play cool just in case, when Hicham and Ron grabbed me from either side, each cupping one of my breasts, feeling up my rear concurrently as they lifted me out of the water and back, and congratulated me for a nice return of serve. Given that they had also been giving me foot and neck massages, I did not take things too seriously at first.

I soon, however, felt that not everything was on the level. During the course of play they grabbed me front and back in the water and made a "Shireen Sandwich" as they called it. Ron put his hands down my bikini bottom and rubbed my pussy while Hicham squeezed my breasts. I thought the touches were accidental the first time, but they did the same sort of thing again after another point was won by our side. But the third time they changed positions, Hicham put his hand down my panties and fingers in my pussy as Ron grabbed my boobs and caressed my rear. The ball had gone out of the pool and had actually rolled out to the parking lot, so recovering it took a bit of time. I was unsure if to disengage and create a scene or try some other tack, while amazed that that I was allowing such access to them. What's worse, I climaxed and Hicham could feel his fingers being sucked into my pussy as I tightened up and came. This emboldened them to try things further, but I had to sort matters out at that point. Hicham had managed to unlace my bottom at one end and was headed for the other. Ron had also unclasped my bra at the back and had his hands around my bare breasts. I pushed my hand down Ron's shorts, grabbing his cock and digging in with my nails. Concurrently, I kneed Hicham in his groin, bending him over in pain. Both of them backed off immediately and I was able to exit the pool, shaking from the orgasm, barely doing up my bikini as I emerged, and wondering about my own brazen behaviour. Calls from the others to stay till the game had ended were not concerted enough to get me back to such overt fondling.

I was, however, immensely aroused and grabbed Akbar. "Can we go home now?" I made it clear that the party was done. Despite protests from Hernan and others, we were among the first to take our leave. The party soon wound down, perhaps since the star attraction had exited, and its end signalled the start of Akbar's night-time work load.

"So what turned you on the most during the party?" he asked in a non-serious manner, after we had coupled again. Akbar had told me about the reason for the change to a bikini and I wondered how much of me had actually been on display and for what length of time. He was delighted that I had taken to the liberated dress forms, even though the others had seen much more of me than intended. However, I don't think he felt as happy about things once I told him about the contact with Ron and Hicham in the pool, notably that I had been turned on by their touches. He had no recourse but to accept that there was nothing to do about it, after all I had not fucked anyone else. Or maybe he liked the idea that I was loosening up in that regard too!

As far as Lana going around the pool topless, the poll to determine the sexiest person at the party never transpired. I think we all know who would have won!

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II -- Striking a Pose or Two

"Shireen, that is an awesome picture," Francesca ventured, "I did not know you had such modelling talent."

"Oh no, it is just a picture from a party last year in Saudi," I responded.

"Take my word, you do have the spark," she added, "and it certainly looks like it was one hell of a party."

"Oh it sure was awesome," I smiled and reminisced about the last, and only, pool party I had ever been to.

Our move to North America was a welcome change from Saudi. Akbar had been planning on getting an MBA and the acceptance from a top West Coast school was too tempting to turn down. I had also decided to complete my schooling, having given up on higher education when we were married. Luckily, coming from Pakistan, a country from where females were not highly represented in US schools, I was able to secure a reasonable level of scholarship and need-based funding, or we would have certainly not be able to cover the cost of two degrees.

Francesca was also a sophomore at the college. She had returned to school after a few years doing odd jobs and saving money. While neither of us were even 25, we could relate to each other as mature students, having experienced life outside of school. I had run into her during her fine art class and the friendship had been immediate.

True to promise, Ghassan had the film from the pool party developed on his next trip to Beirut. At our farewell dinner, he had presented Akbar with a package. Inside were nearly a dozen full page sized pictures of me in the bikini. Also included in the package were all the negatives. A second large round tube had two copies of a poster size picture of me lounging on a deck chair. Akbar was wondering about the second copy, when Ghassan sided up to me.

"Lana is so jealous that I took these pictures, so that is why all the negatives are in your package," he told me, "but would you mind greatly if you sign this one just for me to keep!"

"Sure I will," I took the marker pen and wrote on the picture, "just do not get into any trouble with Lana on my account, or be going around claiming some sort of conquest either!" Ghassan had a sheepish look as I returned the poster to him.

The second picture gave me the opportunity to thank Hernan for being a good friend throughout my stay in Saudi. He had stopped by a few days earlier and told me how much he would miss having me around. I quickly scribbled, "Don't forget me, maybe next time you may get lucky!" I took it over to Hernan, who was happy to receive such a memento. But I am certain that he was totally thrilled by a completely unexpected quick kiss on his lips.

Akbar found Francesca and me looking over wedding and other pictures. Francesca could not believe that we had not dated prior to getting married and that the arrangement had been courtesy of our parents and assorted relatives. She was intrigued by the wedding photos, which were so very different from anything she had ever seen before. But her jaw dropped when she came across the pool party shots, which somehow I had never separated from the more routine ones. "Akbar, she looks dazzling," Francesca admitted, while I was in the kitchen fetching snacks, "you know she could make a few bucks if she modeled for the art and photography classes."

"What do you mean?" Akbar's interest was piqued. Though I did have a substantial amount of scholarship funding, the cost of the business degree and the unaccounted charges related to living in America were making a serious dent in our savings. If it was possible to bring in some additional funds, it would really help out with day to day expenses.

"If Shireen can handle hours of sitting around motionless and if Professor Rickard is amenable, she could be working for quite a few hours weekly," Francesca explained. I was open to meeting the relevant professor over the next day or two.

"I got the job and can start from the day after tomorrow" I advised Akbar a couple of days later, but he could see the concern on my face.

"That's great, so what is the problem?"

"Most of the classes need human subjects for the students to draw," I explained, "and most are not too much trouble as they will be doing portraits or human interest pictures."

"So, why are you worried?"

"There are a number of classes, where the students are learning to draw the human form," I added, "the problem is that I have to sign on for all the classes, if the Professor is to accept me, and that involves my modeling nude in a few of them!"

As far as I was concerned, wearing a bikini at a pool party was one thing. Having your privates on display, and for extended periods of time, was a different ball game. Sure the fee for doing so was pretty decent, in a student sort of way. But was it worth doing, I wondered.

"What is the class make up like?" he asked.

"Overwhelmingly female in all three classes," I replied, "but there are two to three guys in every section, including the human form one."

"You do not have to do this if you are uncomfortable about the guys," he reassured me.

"Really, I thought the idea of my being nude in a crowd of guys would turn you on!"

"Now that you mention it, I think it would be a real hot and tasty appetizer for the evening, every time you have a day time class," Akbar did not disagree.

The first few days and even weeks passed without undue concern. Apparently the human form class started later in the semester, but had longer class hours. I was happily into the modeling assignment, so far not needing to remove much of my clothing. This experience was also building up my confidence that the next half would also be manageable as everyone had been professional and helpful so far. Akbar had occasionally stopped by and this had added to my confidence at times.

But when Dr. Rickard asked me to go behind the curtain and disrobe for the first of the human form classes, I felt all the apprehensions that she had bottled up so far. The Professor herself was a fifty-something matron, who came over to me and comfortingly said, "I bet you those three guys are so gay they get turned off by as pretty a girl as you!" I let out a giggle and shook my head to indicate I was okay with the task. The first class was focusing on the torso and upper body, so I only had to be topless, needing to divest my blouse and bra but leaving the skirt on.

I stepped up to the podium, breasts full and tits erect, my face and body a notable shade of red. The entire class gave me a good look over, as I posed according to direction, and simply went about the task of sketching. As predicted by the Professor, the guys there seemed not to particularly care that a stunning 20-something female, with an exotic background, was standing partially naked in front of them.

That evening, Akbar was not due home till about 10 p.m. and I planned to give him a surprise. I turned the lights out, leaving the house dark except for a few rays filtering down from upstairs. Akbar came upstairs and as he stepped into the bedroom I turned the lights on again, displaying a large canvas frame that was resting on the floor and standing a good six feet high. More importantly, in front, I was posed with my arms overhead, my breasts taut, and just a large scarf around my waist barely covering my pussy. I was perfectly motionless as he put his arms around me, sucked my tits, caressed my body and untied the scarf. Our mouths came together and he pushed me on to the bed. My legs opened and Akbar fought to remove his garments. In no time, his dick was buried deep in me. No longer acting immobile, I came alive and pushed back, scratched his back and bit down on his lip. We both came mightily, and I surmised that the class had certainly done wonders for his libido and mine.

My comfort level having grown over the past few weeks, I sportingly stepped out stark naked in front of the class when the full nudity part started. The Professor had given me a heads up, in a phone call, the day before and Akbar wondered why I giggled so much as she carried out the conversation. We had hit upon a sort of magic code that allowed me to let go of my shyness and the Professor had continued to reinforce the message to me. This time, however, the guys in the group looked at me with appreciation and I was double minded whether they were indeed gay.

We were almost at the end of the term; Akbar had just one more semester before he got his degree; I had a few more sessions of modeling before the check was due. He was getting serious about searching for the next job; one we expected would deliver a much bigger financial package than seen before. I was also close to completing my bachelor's degree and was rightly proud of this accomplishment.

But the peace did not last and advice from Professor Rickard had me reconsidering the job. I was being joined by a male model and the very last part of the course was titled something like the human form in erotica. Having had no issues with the other classes, which remained rather tame as far as dress requirements were concerned, with a swimsuit needed on the odd occasion, the prospect of losing out on a lot of effort, that I had already made, grated on my mind. At the same time, while now quite comfortable with being nude for the class audience, and even the odd visitor, I was very unsure of interacting with an equally naked male person, and particularly for the type of poses I imagined it may require.

A slight accident with our vehicle, while I was driving, had led to our insurance rates rising. I felt particularly bad about this and this fact swayed my mind in favour of completing the assignment and getting paid for the entire slog. I reasoned that the guy would also be doing his job and that everyone had been acting above board to date. Dr. Rickard was relieved that I was going to stay through to the end of the course. Akbar was of course keen that I continued, the almost certain sex play following each session was something to look forward to.

Fred walked right up to me as I hesitated before disrobing. "It is okay, I will look the other way," he tried to make small conversation and reassure me at the same time. He had been doing this sort of work for a couple of years, so had the experience to put his coworkers at ease. He was a tall, fair skinned, good looking guy, and gave off an aura of sincerity, even with the earring he wore in one ear. Steeling myself, I dropped the robe and went up to the podium.

The Professor suggested that I stand, with one leg extended a bit in front of the other. Fred was to kneel, with his face looking upward from my midsection. One of my hands was to rest on his shoulders and the other on my waist as I gazed at a distant object. His arms were to go around one of my legs as if he was hanging on as I was moving forward. While we set up, I felt his arms brushing the underside of my torso including my pussy and rectum, given that he was wrapped around my bare leg. Every so often, Fred had to relax his neck by lowering it, which put his face into direct contact with my vagina. I was unsure if on occasion he had flicked his tongue in to the rapidly moistening opening, but decided to be cool.

At the next session, we were focusing on what looked like ballet forms, whereby I had to come right up against Fred and lean back, with my hands outstretched. He supported me with his hands both allowing me to bend backwards at my waist and also to hold my lower body to him. This put our privates in direct contact. I had to psych myself into completing the assignment and not walk off.