tagGroup SexYou'll See, Lucy

You'll See, Lucy


This is but the first in what may (or may not) be a series of stories; I have left the ending open. If you like what you read, shoot me some feedback and tell me what you'd like to see! In the meantime, I hope you all will what I have written down here. It took me quite some time, perhaps too much, and the short story turned into an epic one. So get a drink, get comfortable, and have a good read. Enjoy!


"Are you sure this is such a good idea? I mean, we don't have any nasty snakes and spiders here like they do in Oz, but I think the closest she's ever been to the outdoors is Central Park. Don't you think a 5-day outing in the wilderness is going to be a bit too much of an introduction to New Zealand?" I said. We sat at our favorite local pub in Wellington. It was a Thursday, so the bar was only marginally full, seeing as how it wasn't a regular haunt for the students at Victoria.

"Oh, come on Pete, give my sister at least a little credit. And she really wants to do this! It would mean a lot to her. Besides, you hardly know her," Becca said, stirring her fruity "chick-drink". I didn't know what was in it, only that it was a color usually reserved for things that sent you on psychedelic trips. I took a long drink from my pint glass and furtively watched the rugby match on the big-screen over her shoulder. She grinned and moved into my line of sight, then rested her chin on the heel of her hand and smiled at me, still stirring her drink. Becca was a beauty. Of all the wonderful things I'd seen in my 18 years in America, she was by far the loveliest. She had light brown hair, lightly wavy and shiny, which seemed to fall about her shoulders perfectly every time, even though she always acted like she didn't care. Her eyes, a mesmerizing yellow-hazel, matched her hair as if she'd bought them in a boutique, shining at me from behind her thin-rimmed, stylish glasses. She was only 5'2" and weighed 110 lbs, most of which was in her buns and boobs. A 34 D cup on a girl that size is definitely something that will hold the average man's attention for longer than a few seconds! She pursed her lips and made a little kissy-face at me, scrunching up her little nose in the cutest of ways. She was the best thing I'd found abroad, and after 2 years together I was determined to keep her.

"Are you saying you'd rather watch your precious All Blacks get beat instead of looking at me?" she asked innocently. I hesitated for a moment while I watched a scrum, and when I'd looked back she'd straightened up and presented her boobs, complete with low-cut, black top. They rested on the table, her sweating drink propped between them. I grinned at her and took another drink.

"They're coming back. You watch," I said.

"Bull," she said, giggling and sticking out her tongue at me.

"Not so loud," I half-joked, knowing my fellow Kiwis' love for the national team. Then, nodding at the screen, I said, "Winning try in the last 30 seconds."

"But about the trip, Pete. Why don't you want to take Lucy?" Becca protested. She finally sipped her drink just as I was about to make a joke about her playing with it. I sighed and leaned back, taking another swig. I'd worked in Montana for 3 summers in the Bitterroots, taking exactly Lucy's type on rafting trips, hiking and climbing expeditions, and all the like. I hated city slickers. Granted, I'd only met Lucy once. It was the dead of winter, and we met her in Boston. I'd never liked the East Coast, and being in the States' windiest city in January didn't do much for my impression of it either. Lucy was a really nice girl, glowing over her recent engagement and promotion. She'd taken us out to eat and to the aquarium. I remembered her as a nice, pretty girl who meant a whole lot to Becca. But I also remembered her as the one who wore heels in snow, a big expensive fur coat, lots of makeup, and nail polish on manicured hands; all the things that Becca neither was nor needed.

"I dunno, Becca. I just don't think she'd have much fun. I'm not even sure why she said she'd come in the first place. I can't even picture her out of that fur coat and heels," I said, jamming a hand in the pocket of my brown canvas trousers and stretching my feet out under the table, resting my heels on the floor by Becca's crossed legs. I looked at the game again.

"That's because that's all you've ever seen her in. She won't be wearing that now, it's 75 degrees outside, and-"

"24," I corrected.


"24 degrees. Get used to it." She glared at me as I smiled back over my glass.

"Anyway, she'll be dressed appropriately if that's all you're worried about. And as for why she came, that would probably be for the hot springs," Becca said, taking another sip through her straw.

"Did you tell her about the meningitis? And, you know, the death that results?" I asked.

Becca looked sideways at the floor. "Not exactly. But we can tell her about that later."

I thought for a moment. "Look, it's a 2 day hike in there. Two full days. What if-"

"She's in great shape. Runs every day," Becca countered.

"Well, what about-"

"She can carry a pack, too, if I can." She had me again. I thought another moment and took another long drink. I glared at the television as the All Blacks lost the ball.

"I'm looking to relax and have fun on this trip. Is she gonna be alright with that?" I asked.

"She drinks, and she smoked weed in college. She's not going to report us to the fuzz," Becca said, rolling her eyes over her drink. Exasperated in a good-natured way, I leaned forward on the table. Becca did the same, a big smile of triumph on her face. I paused.

"Alright, where's would she be meeting us?"

"Christchurch. I'll arrange everything. You won't regret this, Pete, I promise you."

I nodded, distracted. Behind her, the All Blacks scored the winning try. There were 28 seconds left.


I sat on the upper deck and watched Becca gaining her sea legs as she clung to the railing. She turned and looked at me, the breeze blowing her hair across her pretty face. She smiled.

"Is it always this bumpy?" she called to me over the gusty wind, referring to the pitch and roll of the giant boat with the substantial swell on the Cook Strait.

"Bumpy?" I said, shrugging and looking around, "If you think this is bumpy, just wait until the Kraken shows up." She rolled her eyes with a smile and looked back out to sea. We'd had just a few nights in Welly, and then it was on to Picton. I could see the South Island in the distance, getting closer by the minute. I couldn't wait to be home. I'd been away for far too long. My eyes strayed over to Becca. She leaned delicately on the railing, her hair streaming out behind her as she looked towards the bow and beyond to our destination in the Sound. She wore a white spaghetti-strap top that looked like it was about to walk off the job; not only did it have to cover her, but it was supporting her as well, a double-task that made the thin little straps look about ready to snap. The shirt ended just at her navel, showing the sweet little belly-button ring I'd bought for her when I'd gotten tired of her wearing cheap boardwalk jewelry there. A thin, short mini-skirt of playful ruffles, all of bright white, flipped about her hips in the breeze, belying her generous lower curves. Long, tanned legs seemed to go on forever, ending in little white thongs on the feet. I adjusted myself in my pants just as she looked back at me. She smiled at me over her shoulder, having noticed the movement and bulge. We were alone on the last upper deck, and she bit her lip in a show of mock-nervousness and slowly lifted her skirt a smidgen to show a bit of smooth, perfect ass. My mind raced along with my pulse, remembering every time I had held that delectable booty in my hands while she rode my cock. She laughed, looking around again and bending a bit further over the railing. She lifted her skirt again, higher this time, watching my reaction over her shoulder as I realized she had no panties on.

"Oh my," I groaned as I laid my eyes on her freshly-waxed pussy, puffy and aroused, with her thick lips making a tight bun between her legs. Giggling, she let go of the hem of her skirt and straightened up, turning her back to the railing and modestly smoothing down the front of the ruffles, still flipping in the wind. The sun rolled out from behind a cloud and silhouetted her perfectly, the skirt proving to be quite see-through.

"Did you see something you liked?" she said, walking over carefully with the pitch and roll of the ship to sit on the bench seats across from me.

"I always do," I answered, watching as she she slowly crossed her legs, running her hands over her smooth, silky thighs. This was a somewhat familiar game to us. Becca was a daredevil, and loved to have sex in public. I was somewhat less inclined, but she knew that it took very little teasing to get me to do anything she wanted to do. Usually all she had to do was flash me her pussy and I was sold. Becca had a perfect pussy; perpetually waxed and trimmed, thick, soft lips that split like water over my cock, and an inviting entrance that gave way to a strong, tight, textured interior. She loved to suck me as well, but her favorite was to get my cock balls deep in her pussy, over and over again! Just 2 days before in Welly, she had waved happily between moans to a passing group of college girls below our balcony. My mind drooled at the prospect of adding "ocean liner" to our list of places I'd fucked her.

Just then the door to the lower decks opened. A couple with two small children came out, with the kids immediately starting to run around in circles, laughing as they fell because of the swells. Becca smiled and rolled her eyes as she came over to sit next to me. I put my arm around her and she lay down with her head on my lap, looking up at me. We began to share a packet of candies as we talked.

"Later, babe," she teased, winking at me. I sighed deeply.

"So when was the last time you saw Lucy?" she asked, not really thinking.

"Boston," I answered, chewing.

"Was it that long ago?" Becca answered, considering.

"Yeah. I missed her at your folks house when I came for New Years last year."

"Right, right."

"Why, has she changed a bunch or something?" I asked, popping another candy.

"No, not really," Becca said, shaking her head, "She's married now of course. I guess it was one year just last month. She's real happy from what I hear, what with the job and all that. Kinda weird to have a stay-at-home brother-in-law."

"I'll bet," I said, zoning out and taking in the scenery. Becca always loved to talk.

"She's started doing this hardcore porn thing, too. I dunno if my mom's gonna go for it though," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?!" I started, looking down at her. She giggled and arched her eyebrows at me from behind her sunglasses.

"Just seeing if you were listening!" she laughed. I paused.

"So...she's not doing hardcore porn?"

Becca smacked me, laughing. "No, but she probably could!"

I decided to let that one slide.


In Picton, we checked our baggage and boarded the train to Christchurch. We were meeting Lucy at the airport there that evening. She was coming in from Auckland on a domestic flight, after having been at a conference there for the last four days. When Becca had suggested she come and visit with her little sister for a week or so, she'd been only too delighted. It'd been a year since they'd seen each other, and almost three since I'd seen her. I still could only picture her in a fur coat and heels. Weird. For some reason I found myself wondering for the first time if she'd been wearing anything under that coat the whole time.

The train ride was beautiful, just as I'd remembered it from my childhood. The rails went so close to the crashing sea that if a big wave broke right at the correct time, the train would get soaked in the spray. I could see seals basking on the rocks near the surf, surveying us intelligently as we passed by. We sat in an old-style car, facing each other in the seats. Becca kicked off her jandals again and put her feet up on my knees. She wiggled her toes at me, making me chuckle.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" she asked, popping her gum.

"Oh, nothing," I said, lying. She smiled at me.

"Awww, are you nervous?" she giggled, poking at me with her feet. I pushed her away playfully.

"Of course not," I lied again. She shrugged.

"Hey, where are we going on this trip?" she asked. I gave her a strange look.

"Um, Christchurch."

"Thanks, smartass, I meant the backpacking trip," she giggled, jabbing me again.

"Tramping trip. And I already told you, I, um, can't tell you," I said.

"Yeah, and I told you that was a bullshit answer, as I recall," she said, still trying to jab me, "Come on, what's the big secret?"

"The big secret is that it IS a big secret. It's way off in the boonies, off the trail and off the roads. I don't want the chance of word getting out and me showing up and finding some damn tourists there. This country is small enough as it is," I said.

"Then what are you going to do, blindfold me?" Becca laughed. I gave her a little sideways grin. "Jerk," she giggled, "You'd have to blindfold Lucy, too. And probably tie us up. Then how would we hike?"

She'd lost me. I was envisioning her and Lucy tied up and blindfolded. Even though I didn't really know what Lucy looked like.

"Can you at least tell me what it's like?" she asked.

"Sure," I compromised, "It's down in a big long valley near Mount Aspiring, but further north. It's really green this time of year, and really wet. There's no trail, so once we leave the car at my uncle's place we follow an old mine road until it peters out. After that, we follow the river. Should be pretty full right now, and I'm banking on catching a few fish for dinner. We camp one night on the riverbank, then get up early and hike all day the next day too. We'll probably get to the springs around dark. The springs are in a sort of meadow near a big, open, cave-like overhanging cliff. It's dry there, so that's where we'll set up camp. There are three springs, each a little different heat-wise. I'll have to test, since it changes when it rains real hard. I figure we'll spend a few days there and I'll show you girls some real New Zealand scenery in the gorges around the valley, then we'll head back."

Becca had closed her eyes. "It sounds like heaven," she said, "Let's hope my sister thinks so too."


Christchurch. I'd always loved the city's funny England-type feel. We met my old buddy Frank at the train station, and after many vigorous handshakes and hugs he took us to the old ute that we were borrowing to head out into the mountains. It looked pretty rickety, but Frank gave me his word it would run to the ends of the Earth. "Worked on it m'self," he boasted. I promised to come have some beers with him upon my return, and he bade us farewell. After that, the first order of business was Lucy. And Lucy turned out to be pretty easy to find.

We were waiting for her in the baggage claim area of the airport; me sitting, Becca standing on her tip-toes to try and scan above the heads of the crowd. Suddenly, she jumped up and down, waving off over the throng. I stood up like a Jack-in-the-box as Lucy pushed her way through. It was like meeting a completely different person. I'd never met this Lucy before. The young woman who pushed her way through the crowd to embrace Becca was just a bit taller than her younger sister, perhaps 5'4" or 5". Her hair was darker, and I saw as she came to give me big one-armed hug (the other arm was full of the luggage that Becca was hurriedly trying to take from her) that her eyes were bright, sparkling green. She had a body not unlike her sister's, only even more curvaceous. Her hips and ass were wide, full, and firm, and the pair that she pressed unabashedly into my hard chest were huge and soft, creating even more monster cleavage in the crush between us. Easily 36 DD. She wore a form-fitting black babydoll t-shirt and a breezy, knee-length red skirt with thongs. She tossed her long dark hair as she stepped back to look at me.

"My goodness, Becca, where have you been hiding all this man?" she asked, laughing, as she pinched at my bulging shoulders and arms. I laughed, fighting off her pinches, and Becca wrapped her arms around me.

"In a safe place. All mine, sis, hands off!" she laughed. We small-talked on our way out to the ute, me carrying pretty much every bag while the two girls held hands and gabbed away. Lucy was absolutely loving New Zealand, even though the meetings in Auckland had been grueling.

"I'm absolutely dying to get out and away from the city," I heard her say. I could hardly believe it. I'd misjudged this young woman quite unfairly. She even liked the little broken-up Toyota Hilux that I tossed her bags into the back of. We all piled into the cab, Lucy in the middle. I could barely think straight as her warm body pressed tight against me, her tits bouncing with every jerk and bump of the ute. She even had to straddle the stick, a phrase that had me cooking up all kinds of images in my head. I glanced down at her legs more than a few times as we drove to the hotel where we would spend the night before heading off in the morning. They were lightly tanned and oh-so-smooth, and the skirt seemed to ride higher and higher as we drove, laughing and talking about this and that. My groin was aching by the time we arrived at the hotel, and her skirt was so high that I could see the crotch of her little red panties reflected in the plastic covering over the radio. Her legs slid perfectly together as she moved to sit sideways in the ute, her back to me. Thank goodness, I thought to myself, I was about to drive into a pole.

We arrived in the nick of time at the hotel. It was actually out on the Akaroa Peninsula, in the opposite direction we would travel the next morning, but Lucy had said that she wanted to see the countryside while she could. So, we didn't stay in a hotel. We stayed at an inn. Much, much better in my eyes; I was only too glad to grant her request. I parked the ute and left it in gear, and went into the pub to get the keys to our room, the two girls in tow. The old barkeep went and got the key, talking good-naturedly in that old accent I had missed so well. He glanced at the two girls behind me and smiled broadly, as had many of the men at and in the bar. The smiled and looked around, looking pretty.

"Those yours?" the barkeep joked.

"Girlfriend and her sister," I smiled.

"Ooo," The barkeep chuckled, clucking and winking at me as he went off to get another patron a beer. I glanced around at all the smiles and looks of "go get 'em". I winked at them all to keep their imaginations running, and put a hand on the small of each girls' back as we walked out the door together. I heard some laughing and hollering from the bar as we went back out to the ute.

"What was that all about?" Lucy asked.

"They don't get many pretty girls in this town, I think," Becca laughed.

"Well, Pete's not getting both of us!" Lucy laughed. She was making a few too many comments like that. For the 50th time my brain said to my libido, "This was a very, very bad idea, dummy."

I slung about 150 pounds of bags overs my shoulders and arms and gave the key to Becca. We walked up a short staircase on the outside of the inn and into the second floor, where there was a very short hallway and three doors.

"Only three rooms in the whole place?" Lucy said, looking around.

"It's a small town, Lucy," I said, pushing open our door, "And I think we're all alone tonight, actually."

I dumped the bags on the two twin beds. It was certainly a cozy room, a whole lot like a room I used to stay in at my grandmother's house when I was young; all perfectly made, low-ceilings, and little doilies on the beside tables.

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