Visiting Yasmin

Was I really going to swim over there to him? And what? Climb out? Sit next to? This wasn't, I mean, what would I think this meant? Nothing, unless I wanted it to, but, surely, at least, an invitation? A display, literal of course, but also of willingness, interest, availability. Was I? Making myself available to him? I swam, not without thinking, without concluding. I wanted to sit next to him, at least that, I wanted to climb out and share this moment of physical intimacy, I knew, this moment of exquisite erotic power. I wanted to look at him, I wanted him to look at me.

And I swam to him. It took seconds. Did I intend this? My heart was suddenly racing. I swam, breaststroke, feeling my legs push apart, the cool liquid flow over my naked sex, catch and tug the fur above my mons, tease the sensitive skin of my arsehole.

I swam to him, floated in front, Christopher reached, our hands met, gripped. He helped me out. And I sat next to him. Smiling, both of us, grinning at how lovely this was. I looked. At his flat belly, his thighs, the size of them, the thickness. My eyes still expected material, something to cover the rest. I was allowed to see all of him, this close, how was this possible? I let my gaze drop to the damp nest of hair, so dark, so shining wet, so dense. Then, within, poking up, sticking up straight like a miniature hard-on, I could see the vertical frond of his soft, small, chilled penis. Reduced further by the cold water, drawn forward by the connection to his retracted balls, his tight crinkled scrotum, but held up by his almost stiffening softness.

I let my legs float in front of me, took the time to look to the side, away from him, wanting him, hoping he would take the chance to look at me, to study my own naked body, my own slim waist, small breasts, my thick nest of dark pubic hair. The ripples of my scrunched belly. My skin.

Was he looking? Had he been? I turned my head back. The moment was intoxicating. Both of us already naked, my friend, his, swimming, sitting next to each other. He looked up, locking eyes, and mine flicked down. When I forced my gaze back up Christopher was taking a moment to let his rove across my bare body. I wanted him to look, I was drunk with the idea of being naked next to him, also naked, outside, our feet drifting through water, another boy could see my bare body, my small stiff nipples, my full firm ass, the forest of womanly hair surrounding my tender young sex. I wanted to lie back, to open my legs, to let him look between them, to show him the details of my sex, as I could see his, beyond my thick hair, between the dark fringe growing over the tingling lips of my vulva. I wanted him to see my hot cunt, my hot, dark, thickened cunt. Oh shit, fuck, my pleasure was reaching a dangerous level, yet I couldn't look away, he was still letting me see him, him, his perched cock, so there, this was the thrill, that his male sexual part was so unhidden by anything, sprouting like a slim smooth pale finger from his own glistening bush of thick curled pubic covering, that all of his sex was available to look at, his small soft penis, its skin, so soft looking, so light, I could make out the tight wrinkles of his foreskin, the tiny clasp of his pursed lip, all rising from above his tight dark wet pouch, small, wonderfully clenched and round.

We looked out and saw Sean swimming out to join us, Yasmin a few meters behind. Was this good? I felt something like disappointment when I knew I wouldn't be quite so alone with Christopher. This was quickly supplanted by a tremor of anticipation that I would be able to look at his friend's naked body this closely.

Sean got to us first and hauled himself out, water flowing over his body, his hair plastered flat against the contours of his body, the shear taut lines of his muscles glistening as he lifted his body upwards, his soft penis wobbling, bouncing, his long soft cock dripping wet, clear water cascading from its still hidden tip, a visual hint of other fluids, of other internal reactions. He sat up, next to Christopher, close, their legs almost touching, both just superbly naked, their thighs together, their penises pushed upwards. Christopher's smaller dick sticking upright, his friend's longer, fleshier, darker, smooth still, but showing a large wide vein running along his thick, more gnarled stem, his foreskin extending out over his tip in a lovely tight wrinkled trunk-like shield, but the shape of his bulb clear, a shining moist curved line raised around the end of his soft length.

It flopped with a damp plop against his thigh as Yasmin climbed out, oh god, everything, everyone was getting to me, her smooth dark skin reflecting the moonlight, her stiff little nipples seeming to leak water, tiny beads of crystal liquid collecting in each of the damp filaments of her dark pubic bush. I watched,

Christopher, Sean, we all looked as she lifted a leg, as she levered herself onto the raft, as she offered us the quickest glimpse of her sex, her large swollen thick lipped vulva.

I pressed my own thighs together. I could sense sex happening already, building, something inevitable, inexorable. My belly was trembling and turning with anticipation.

There must have been conversation, some, at least some. Before the moment got to all of us, before we all gave in to our desire for something immediate, something less tantalising.

I looked at Christopher, down, to Sean, their soft penises, their tight round scrotums, Sean larger there too, his balls heavier looking, to Yasmin. Our eyes met. There was the faintest of raised eyebrows. I looked back to Christopher. Was this happening? Here? Now? Was I going to kiss someone? Another young white guy? Both of us already naked. Wasn't this an immediate invitation to sex? My body was in control, my mind directed by physical passions.

We looked at each other, he smiled, he had a lovely smile. And he looked down, without shame, without pretense, he looked at my bare body, as if studying. I felt his eyes on my nipples, on my pussy. When our eyes met again our smiles had gone. We leaned. Christopher leaned in, my mouth met his, almost met, we let our breath meet and enter each other, we let our lips touch, seconds, not even, until we kissed. It was, well, perfect, his lips, mine, our mouths opened onto ourselves, I felt his soft probing teasing tongue, I let my hand graze his thigh, and felt him feather the backs of his fingers over my bare breast, god, over my stiff little nipple. We kissed with barely suppressed passion, holding ourselves back, entering each other with each exhalation, with deliciously invasive darting tongues. I felt my vagina swell and moisten.

I opened half an eye and saw Yasmin leaning in to Sean, their soft full lips meeting. We sat on the raft, in the lake, in the night, and kissed, like young lovers do, like we invented it, I knew if we had been indoors, alone, I would have fallen into a moment of unbridled lust, I would have reached, touched, pulled him with depraved greed on top of me. That I didn't, couldn't, made the moment almost unbearably erotic, the field of untapped desire, need, causing quakes of pressurized arousal to shake within me.

We broke, we leaned back, our mouths still open, our breathing suddenly desperate. Something was different, something in my peripheral vision. I glanced down. Up. We were naked. I knew, I mean, I could feel how aroused I was, before, even more after we kissed. My arousal was still hidden though, still secret, as it would be in any situation, until, usually, I undressed, until, invariably, so far anyway, Paul, or Laila (oh god, oh Laila, stop, no, not now, stop) out their hand on my pussy and felt how damp I was. We were nude though, he was nude. And we had kissed.

Christopher's penis was erect. Suddenly, shockingly, utterly and blatantly erect. I realised, stupidly, I had never kissed a guy, for the first time, when he wasn't fully dressed, when his arousal wasn't hidden by underwear, trousers, when the swelling of his penis hadn't remained obscured. When that ultimate privacy hadn't been retained, until later, until never, a kiss, only, merely, for now, leading to, building to.

Christopher was naked though, we were both naked. He had not been able to hide his arousal, his most basic and intimate physical response. We had kissed, whilst already nude, and I could already see his hard penis, I could already see that his soft small cock had grown, had swelled and thickened, had engorged with blood and desire and become superbly stiff. I looked down, and up, and immediately down again.

It looked shockingly large. Perhaps more so as I had grown accustomed to it in its soft state. But it looked huge. Completely erect, pulsing and trembling with beaten infusions, upright, sticking up from the pouch of his balls, the dark still damp shrub of his pubic hair, fuck, so gloriously rigid, his foreskin stretched tight over his large oval bulb, his stem so thick, so fucking thick, oh, my mind compared, without wanting to, without deciding to, but, I realise, I am aroused that I can, that I am able to. Christopher's cock is smaller than Paul's, smaller than Nasir's, shorter, an inch, or less, very slightly slimmer. God. I don't care. He is naked and gloriously stiff. Superbly and shamelessly erect. It is sticking up straight from the round base of his balls, from the wet shrub of his pubic bush, his foreskin stretched, pulled slightly back, letting me see the tiny damp lips of his meatus.

I want to push my legs apart, I want him to look at me as clearly as I can look at him, raise my bum and offer him my cunt, my arsehole. His cock is so there, so blatant, the instant crossing of a line that usually takes hours, days, weeks even. One second we were just swimming, albeit naked, the next sitting, talking, then kissing, mmm, that kiss, and then within that one moment I can see his engorged cock, long, thick, rigid and upright, after one simple kiss I am so completely close to his body's most private reaction.

My gaze is drawn slightly past him, Yasmin and Sean are still kissing, his hand is cupping her bare breast, hers is gripping his naked thigh. Her hand. His thigh. My eyes slide up. To his naked penis. His naked vertical penis. Oh fuck. Sean's cock is as erect as well, utterly, completely, pointing upright from his thighs, from his damp, hairy pouch. He is as aroused as Christopher, he is as affected as his friend, he's sat next to him, so close to me, nude, and his cock is outrageously stiff, is completely and blatantly erect, in front of Yasmin, me, another girl he is not even kissing, in front of his friend. It seems almost obscene, both of them together, just sitting, next to each other, nobody really touching, naked, both of their penises sticking up hard and blatant, almost with innocence, almost without sexual intent, they have kissed us, we've kissed, and their sweet young penises have swelled to a point of solid arousal.

Christopher and Sean are both naked, next to each other, both of their beautiful penises are erect, they can see the other's hard prick, both of them are utterly and rigidly erect.

I can't help looking between the two. Sean is larger. God. Oh fuck. So much larger. His cock looks genuinely big. My act of comparing makes me spin with excitement, Sean with Christopher, Christopher with Paul, Paul with Nasir, Paul with Sean. Sean is larger than all of them. His fucking hard cock is longer than his friend's, longer, thicker, noticeably, obviously, god, longer than Paul's. His stem rears up from his large balls, his smooth swollen tip extends out from it, already stretching his soft foreskin back so it has opened around the moist lips of his slit, it reaches past his dark deep belly button. Fuck. It looks too big for his body, somehow, out of proportion, too thick, too fucking long, I guess in inches, faint at this judgement, weak with pleasure, is Sean's cock is as big as my father's? As big as I remember him to be, nine, or so, oh god, nine inches?

Christopher and I are still looking at each other, he knows we have skipped a step or three. He is aroused, he can't pretend otherwise, but I sense the absence of any sort of parading, any pleasure in the idea this is an aggressive display of his maleness, his readiness to fuck. His slight coyness arouses me further: we have kissed, I am aroused, we are naked, when I am aroused my penis stiffens, I can't hide this now.

We are looking at each other. I stare, without shame, with greedy pleasure, at the sight of Christopher's stiff penis, he watched my eyes and follows them, we both stare at his hard cock. I see Yasmin pull back from Sean, look, I see her reaction, the widening of her eyes, Sean looking down, we all look, Christopher looks at his friend, at his huge hard penis, does he compare? How could he not. Has he had a chance to before? Why do I think he has, what is he giving away? An absence of surprise at Sean's greater size? Why do I assume this should bother him? It doesn't seem to, he seems to look with the same aroused awe that Yasmin and I look. Impressed but not envious, not insecure. Why should he be over something so random. Why should he be when he is displaying the most beautiful hard prick I can imagine wanting to touch.

Yasmin looks, at Sean, at Christopher, as they sit next to each other, side by side, skin touching skin, their beautiful cocks standing up straight. And I reach across. With my friend watching, I watch, I reach without moving my lips back to his, I sit up, back, Sean staring at me, at his friend, we look as I open my hand and touch him, as I touch Christopher's exposed and erect penis, without looking down, without breaking our eye contact, I have my hand on his cock. I can feel my mouth open, my breath heave in and out of me. He feels thick, my fingers can only just wrap all the way around, thick, solid, so achingly hard, slimmer than my hand is used to, but as hard as I have ever felt, the heat of it thrills me, blazing through the remaining dampness still cooling his outer layer of soft skin, the hardness of it, the warmth radiating from his rigid core, I grip, and move, slightly, feeling his soft smooth skin slide over his pulsing, iron hard stem.

I look as I touch Christopher's stiff bare penis, he lets me, looking at my hand, Yasmin is doing the same, I stroke the soft smooth skin down along the solid core of his engorged tissue, I am dizzy with pleasure over that strange contrast of coolness and heat, the effects of the cool water being offset by the natural throbbing of his blood. I look as I pull his skin back, along the wide length of his stem, feeling each of the tiny ridges running along each long tube of swollen cock flesh. I pull. I expose his smooth dark glans.

I cannot look away, I want to kiss again, but I want to look. I grip his stiff penis and so slowly, so gently, masturbate him. And, as I do, as we all sit together naked, I look and see Yasmin reaching for Sean, I look as my best friend reaches for Sean's long thick rigid cock and closes her fingers around his huge stem. Do I have penis envy? The sight is enough, the feel of Christopher within my fingers, the view of Yasmin stroking Sean. Gripping him, easing his soft skin back over his glistening bulb. He looks so big, his tip looks too large for his skin, like it won't stretch over it, my friend grips Sean with delicate expertise, it seems, slow, slides his skin down an exposed his large oval tip, shiny slick with a coat of sweet clear liquid.

We do this for a minute, less, we don't kiss, Yasmin holds and strokes Sean's stiff penis as I grip and slide my fingers along the rigid stem of Christopher's. We sit, on our platform, our feet still in the water, wind in trees, the faint ripples of the pond, our breathing, the boys are breathing at higher volume as Yasmin and I grip their stiff cocks and masturbate them gently.

Christopher finally reaches for me, I feel his hand on my bare breast, sliding the furrow between two fingers along the tender bud of my small stiff nipple. We both look down at my hand, rubbing his penis, exposing his own oval tip, showing his shiny bulb, as slippery damp as Sean, a fresh tear of pre-cum bubbling from his tiny opening.

There is movement, Yasmin and Sean are kissing again, I want to, I don't want to stop looking, they kiss, as she strokes his large cock, and as he moves his hand between her legs, as she lets him, oh fuck, my best friend opens her legs wide, she shifts, faces him, faces me, opens her legs, I look between them in the dark, in the moonlit night and stare at my friend's exposed sex, the darkness of it, the near blackness, I see what I imagine, her thick, hairy lips, her damp opening, her swollen clitoris. Yasmin spreads her legs apart an lets me, Christopher, Sean, gaze with wonder at her sweet, thick cunt. I see her hold Sean's hand by the wrist and direct him to touch her there, to touch her naked sex, in front of me, in front of Christopher, he looks, as I stare, as I see her hand moving, slowly, teasingly, up and down, stroking Sean's erect penis, as he opens his hand and places it over Yasmin's exposed pussy.

I rise on another wave of arousal. My own sex throbs. I feel Christopher pulse, his penis thickens, he is so hard, so beautifully hard, I stroke as we look at our friends, Yasmin breaks their kiss and gasps, we hear her moan.

Would words spoil the moment? All we need are the natural sounds of our breath, our involuntary gasps of shock and excitement.

Sean moves his fingers over Yasmin's slippery wet warm sex.

And I lose all semblance of control. I look back to Christopher, shifting slightly, as Yasmin had, pulling one leg further onto the raft, and push my legs apart. I face him more, showing him myself, clearly, blatantly, I let him look at my soft swollen wet sex, my dark hairy cunt, I want him to look, I want Sean to see me, I want Yasmin to glance and look at her best friend's thickened pussy, my long trembling mound of furls and tender, slippery skin. I grip Christopher's beautiful cock, holding his foreskin back, reaching with my free hand to slide my fingers over the smooth moist surface of his glans, god, stroking his most sensitive part, circling his thick corona and inviting him to touch me, I want to kiss, I don't want to stop looking, I am so close already, I know I am.

I hear my own voice, only a whisper, it seems to fill the night, to rebound off the water, leaving me without asking permission, demanding, expressing my lust.

"Christopher, oh god, touch me, touch my cunt, oh fuck, touch my wet cunt."

I am gliding fingers over his cock, gripping his thick stem, pulling, gently, pushing, making a ring and slipping his sweet wet tip in and out, I lose myself in thoughts, sensations, another boy's hard cock, my third, Paul, Nasir, now Christopher, the third hard dick I had had in my hands, I am stroking it, holding it, masturbating him, next to my friend, doing the same, all of us, oh god, all of us naked.

And he touches me. I watch Christopher move his hand to me, stroking along my thigh, looking, both of us, I open myself further, and feel his fingers brush my thick hair, lower, oh, oh, lower, until I can feel his finger sliding over the soft damp cushions of my lips, I look at Yasmin, her hand, Sean, both nearly, but not quite kissing, breathing into each other, as her hand moves over his rigid cock, quicker now, gripping his thick shaft, sliding up and down, as he strokes her sex. Fuck, I am watching myself and two others grip and caress our exposed genitals.

Christopher finds my vagina, I hear myself again, gasping again, as he enters me, oh fuck, just the tip of his finger, I clench and close myself around him, knowing how wet I am, knowing her is feeling this, releasing this, in, oh god, inside me, over me, up, up to my hot wet aching little clitoris.