Unfortunate Exposure

And it was, really time to walk on. No men with big, turgid penises. Just time to move on. Time to make the attempt to get through the village.

There had, nonetheless, been a crack of a twig. There had been noise. It was not two gruff men. The girls did not have to tug at penises. Out from the wood had come a pair of roe deer. They had looked in surprise at the girls and then taken tail, running off with their white rumps bounding.

"Come on, let's try," said Jess standing and putting out her hand for her friend, "try for the village." Hand in hand they walked on down the path towards the village and its lights. They could not see anyone coming up the path.

The darkness fell further especially once they descended into the dip before the village, where the hedges were tall. All at once ahead of them a late-night dog walker with flashing torch. A torch does somewhat blind one to what is beyond its beam. The eye sees more in the darkness without one. Had the walker been torchless and silent he would probably not have been observed by the girls until he was right upon them. Still less with his dog having a jet-black coat. Instead the girls were over a gate, hiding behind the hedge and out of sight when he came up to and past them. For once they had been lucky and unobserved.

Lucky too through the streets of the village. Their approach into the village up a comparatively quiet alley, leading from the track they had come down. Cobbled and with houses to either side. The girls saw in through windows. Saw families at supper, people watching television, but their own passage was unobserved. The main street surprisingly but pleasingly deserted. Cars parked along it but unmoving. No sound of any vehicle approaching. The girls cautiously slipped out of the side alley and into the main street. They hurried past the local store they so often visited, past the pub with the sounds of merriment and drinking within. There was no one sitting outside. No smokers with tell-tale orange points of light at the end of cigarettes. That had been a worry. Ahead came the sound of a car, but they slipped easily and secretly into a narrow side alley. A perfect hiding place as it went through an archway in the buildings, an accessway on foot only.

The car passed them, and the girls moved on. Down the silent street. Half way down the sound of another car. The girls looked frantically for a hiding place. Perhaps crouching between cars, perhaps to cross the road and go down a side street or... casually lean against the bus shelter which would largely screen them. If they just were there unmoving, not drawing attention to themselves perhaps the car driver would not notice them in the dark. It would all be so sudden. A flash of the headlights and he -- or she -- would have passed. Even if he or she noticed then the person might think he or she was mistaken. The people waiting for the bus could surely not have been naked.

It was, though, not one car but several and worse a bus followed them and, of course, drew up right at the bus shelter, it slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a hiss. Down the bus several people got out but all walked the other way from Jess and Marianne into the night. However, from his commanding viewpoint opposite the bus entrance, sitting with steering wheel in hand the bus driver looked down at them. He, and it was a he, looked bemused and surprised. "Are you young ladies getting on?"

"We haven't a fare."

"I can see that." He said the words slowly, grinning over his beard. "You can pay me another day when you have your purses with you!"

"We don't want to travel."

"Last bus."

"No thanks."

"Pity." The doors closed with a hiss and the bus departed. A surprised look or two from the few passengers further down the bus.

No more cars, and luckily no pedestrians, as Jess and Marianne scampered up the street and into Jess' road. Five houses down was Jess' front door. Locked of course.

"How?" asked Marianne. "Has a neighbour a key?"

A neighbour had, but Jess certainly did not want to knock on his front door. It would make his evening but if she could avoid that. She would.

They went past Jess' house and then she said, "Down here," pulling Marianne down beside her house. The back way in. A way around to the bottom of the garden and then into it. They hurried down the passageway between fences, turned and nipped along to Jess' back gate. Such a relief to be in her garden and scrabbling under a particular stone in the rockery for the back door spare key.

The key turned and the door opened. They tumbled inside.

"Phew!" said Jess.

"Such a relief," said Marianne, "and thank you." Marianne pulled Jess to her and in the darkness they kissed. Breast to breast, nipple touching nipple, pubic hair mingling. They were close to each other. Had Marianne that penis she had said she was without, it would have been touching, perhaps poking into Jess' hair, perhaps slipping hard between her legs. Had it been Josh not Marianne on the naked adventure then that would surely have been there. If not earlier on the naked walk. There was no penis to push between Jess' legs but Marianne's tongue did slide into Jess' mouth, and then her knee came up a little pushing at, and then between, Jess' thighs.

"Later," whispered Jess. It was not yet the time. It was going to be an interesting evening. They would have to report the theft in the morning but for now a bath, perhaps together -- a bit of a squash perhaps, a spot of supper and maybe a glass or two of wine. Maybe still naked together after their bath the whole evening. Perhaps a little draped but not that much. Jess finding out what penis-less sex was like, finding out about Marianne's body a little more and what she liked. Finding out what big girls could do together without boys. It would be interesting, it would be a little different, perhaps a lot different for Jess.

The girls did not know it. Jess, certainly, had absolutely no idea whatsoever that her exposure on the walk was nothing new. No idea that she was, indeed, regularly spied upon. No idea the lovely old gentleman in the house behind hers had a pair of binoculars sitting on his windowsill. Jess had no idea just how much of her bedroom he could see from his attic room; did not know she really needed to draw the curtains to maintain her privacy; had no idea just how often sweet Mr Cummeridge had wanked at the sight of her undressing... or more.

The many hot summer nights when she had gone to bed with nothing on, thrown back the covers and pleasured herself as she read, the round circle of light from her bedside lamp showing him all he wished to see. All that was necessary for him to maintain a strong erection and enjoy stroking it to the full.

Jess had not idea just what 'innocent' pleasure she was giving to the old man, and arguably at no real cost to herself.

What a particularly delight and surprise to the old man, Mr Cummeridge, that very evening, discovering rather more going on than usual and spying upon not just Jess through his binoculars but Marianne as well. He was soon unzipped and beginning a long stroke, a set of fine teeth appearing as he grinned.

All through their walk they had been exposed, now they thought themselves safe. Not a bit of it! The old man was ogling and masturbating. And whilst he was the only one able to see, he was not the only one thinking of the two naked girls and stroking that evening and night.

Jonathon and Katie had fucked. Fucked shortly after leaving the girls. Had ridden away from the path and rolled together in a field as the horses grazed. Jodhpurs had been removed. Male and female organs had been exposed and mated. It had been a good bout in the warm evening, the sun feeling very good upon Jonathon's naked bottom as it had risen and fallen as he worked Katie. A successful coupling for both parties. Now home and, unfortunately, alone in his bed Jonathon thought back to the meeting with Jess and Marianne. His penis rose before him and, despite still betraying signs of his earlier copulation, he stroked it recalling and thinking what he might like to have done had Katie not been there and Jess and Marianne been suitably, and improbably, compliant. He would have ridden them hard. The thought of riding them both, his penis pushing into one after the other, and perhaps around again, was very pleasing. Even thoughts of all three girls -- Katie as well -- in the field on all fours as he, bull like, saw to his herd. He managed a second cum of the evening. Of course he did.

Beside him Joe's wife snored as lay there and thought back to the surprising interruption to his evening's fishing. "Hee, hee, hee," he muttered, "naked young women," as he made a rather fine mess on his stomach within his pyjamas. Across the way, and in his own home, his fishing companion did very much the same thing with his own rod. Two starchy patches on striped pyjamas the next morning.

In many, many beds, the keen cyclists now out of their Lycra thought back to what they had seen. The sudden apparition on the path, the leaping and splayed girls. What hadn't they seen? They had all joked about it and been rather crude about it, before later going their separate ways, after a drink. Not one had said to another that he was looking forward to getting home and having a wank whilst recalling the girls. Not the sort of thing men say, but they had all thought it. And even those lucky enough to mount their wives that night, and even those where the wife had initiated the sex, were thinking of the two girls whilst copulating. And it was not their wives they imagined ejaculating into but the girls, indeed very much like the solo artists having to make do with their own hands.

Even the bus driver, Doug Durville, was in on the act. He wanked too. His thoughts very much of the two girls getting on his bus and, when all the other passengers had left, him stopping the bus and rogering them both, one after the other, bent over a seat and with his hands full of girly breast flesh. He imagined dropping them off, finally, and seeing them getting off his bus with both their pussies dripping -- dripping his very own cum down their lovely long legs. Alas, it was not down their legs it dripped -- but it certainly did drip.

In the large and imposing king-sized bed, Mrs Heysham lay spread out, her sex awash with both her own secretions and a proprietary lubricant, her thick lips swollen, and her clitoris extended. So aroused. Her nipples atop her ample breasts were hard and well chewed. Unlike nearly all men, many women can orally pleasure themselves at least as far as nipples are concerned. They can suck their own. Men can neither suck their own nipples nor, however much they might like the idea, suck their own penises -- unless they are both young and surprisingly supple. Mrs Heysham had sucked upon one of her nipples, but unlike Jonathon, she was not lying in her bed alone and masturbating. Desmond was mounted upon her and doing very pleasant things to her. Only, only, her thoughts were upon Jess and Marianne. Lovely as it was having a real penis inside her, she was thinking of the girls and artificial penises. How lovely they would look with a double ended dildo going from one to the other, back and forth.

Or the double ended dildo going from them into her. What it would be like to kiss their bodies all over -- bodies she could vividly recall. How good to tease their cunnies with a dildo in her hand, perhaps be fucked by both with 'strap ons', one girl after the other, or that wonderful dildo gag her friend Fiona had. Didn't Fiona, and wouldn't those girls also, look so fine with a black dildo each strapped to and curving up from their mouths. Even better when those dildos went deep into her. All arousing and very pleasant thoughts as her orgasm built. But no lovely girls in bed for her, just Desmond. She was a dutiful wife and made the most of that; and, after all, her husband's organ was large and plentiful.

Jess and Marianne seemed to have left a trail of ejaculating semen and wet pussies behind them. Their enforced outing seemed to have caused a remarkable amount of pleasure to others. A real outpouring of sexual liquids. Even that first dog walker with Jess' namesake as his companion, pulled on his penis that night. If only he had stepped into the bracken and seen that girl's boyfriend. She had been naked -- he had only seen her from the waist up but was sure she had been naked. Absolutely sure. And was her boyfriend naked too? Surely yes. Why hadn't he stood up instead of staying hidden and thereby exposed his erection. He would like to have seen that. How big would it have been and with such a lovely girl wouldn't it have stood well? If only he had pretended he had to collect Jess the dog, rather than just call her to heel. If only he had pushed through the bracken and seen the couple naked. Her fur, his stout cock. Thoughts of joining them. An improbable invitation to share the girl. His favourite scene in his fantasies, two men and one woman. He was not to know it would have been two women and one man. Nonetheless he was another man who made a not inconsiderable mess as a result of Jess and Marianne. Yes, out it came.

And on Jess' big white bed the girls' cunnies were liquid. Rubbed together, teased with fingers, even kissed. Multiple orgasms. A very enjoyable, sexy, albeit penis-less sexual play and coupling. A few candles providing a soft, flickering light over the scene. Moonlight playing through the open curtains of the window further illuminated the naked and writhing girls. And over, beyond the bottom of Jess' garden, teeth shining in the moonlight, binoculars clamped to his eyes, Mr Cummeridge was absolutely delighted at the Sapphic scene. Unsurprisingly, at its conclusion his large, but aged, penis poured forth its own liquid onto the windowsill.