- That Little Pleasure Make Me Happy – part 2
“That Little Pleasure Make Me Happy” Part – 2 Continues….
“Fucking hell, what is she up to?” Martin said, gripping my hand.
“No idea, but I didn’t see you looking away or blushing,” I smiled, trying to cover my embarrassment at my feelings.
Looking at me, Martin said. “Well I can see you enjoyed it,” as he stared at my breast.
As I looked down, I saw she was looking over her shoulder and also staring at my chest. What an odd scene? My husband, me and this stranger are all staring at the twin bulges in my tight top.
For the rest of the evening, we didn’t see that much of her, but what we did see was incredible. Walking through the restaurant showing us, and everyone else, that wonderful wiggle and her long, long, bare legs. Leaning forward when seated exposing most of her boobs and slumping back in her chair, her legs stretched out and the hem of her skirt as far up her thighs as it could go, nearly showing if she was wearing knickers or not.
And once, when standing with her back to us, after looking over her shoulder at us, she leaned forward, stopped, then leaned further forward until she showed us that, under the flimsy dress, she was as bare beneath the waist as she was above it. As we both looked at the nakedness of her bum I felt Martin’s knee pressing hard against mine. 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 Martin 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?” 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 fulfillment. 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 Martin 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 onto his wonderfully hard cock. And it was for those reasons, more than anything else, why he fucked me up my arse that night.
It was our last day. We were leaving the hotel around five and Martin 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 up 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 Looked up, it was her. I looked round and realised we were the only people at the pool and my heart immediately started to pound.