A CRACK ON THE BEACH – pt1
We'd all had a long but enjoyable day on the beach. It would be difficult not to take pleasure in the amenities that the isolated hotel offered. It was based on the southern tip of the Island and, for its heavy price, ensured privacy, great food and five star services. "We" was my wife and I and my step-sister-in-law. We are all in our fifties and, thankfully, the Gods have been kind to us and kept our figures reasonably trim and our minds alert.
Shy, my wife, was trim and boasted a well-shaped pair of breasts and a very pert bum that even the occasional waiter glanced at. Cee, was older than her step-sister, slightly taller and she managed to exude sensuality, especially as the sun stroked and tanned her body. As for myself, I'm tall and carry little excess weight.
By the end of the day, much beer, wine and food had been partaken of and by the time we returned to our very secluded chalet, Shy was well inebriated and Cee was navigating the pathway like a ship on a rough sea. We parked ourselves on the patio and, as usual, indulged in more alcohol. At some point Shy staggered off to shower.
When she returned, wrapped in a large towel, she sunk into a chair and within half an hour, had fallen asleep. This was not unusual for my wife. When the wine took hold of her, she fell into a deep, deep slumber; a sleep so heavy she was impossible to awaken. I had, on a few occasions, hauled her off to bed and, in the morning, she had not questioned how she had gotten there or even asked what had occurred the night before.
With my wife now semi-comatose, Cee and I continued chatting. Nothing of consequence as Cee's own intake of wine had slowed down her own thought process somewhat! A fine sheen of perspiration shone just below her neck, above her blouse.
"Oops," Cee said suddenly, her eyes on my wife.
I glanced over and saw that the knot on Shy's towel had slipped considerably. Her left breast was exposed. It was white and full against the darkness of her tan, its nipple perfectly erect, probably enticed by the coolness of the night air.
I glanced at Cee. She was still staring at her Shy's breast. Not lasciviously. It was an unexpected sight, after all. Then she looked away.
"It looks lonely, don't you think?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Her breast – I think it's missing its friend." I stood up, suddenly quite turned-on by the idea of exposing my wife's breasts. Don't ask me why – perhaps it was the place, the moment, the day's sun and alcohol. The fact that Cee, another woman, an older step-sister, was there fuelled my actions.
"What are you doing?" Cee asked, managing to sit upright on her chair without sloshing her glass of wine. She uncrossed her tanned legs beneath the thin skirt she was wearing.
"Sssh."
I went behind Shy's chair. She was fast asleep, definitely not aware of time or place. She slept with her head to the side, her legs fully extended. "She's probably hot wearing this towel, anyway," I whispered. I stood behind her and leant over. Slowly I opened the towel to either side as much as I could without moving her arms. I opened it enough to expose her breasts and upper torso. It wouldn't take much too fully expose her, but I hesitated. I wanted to do this slowly. Warmth was spreading in my belly, toward my cock and I felt my testicles tighten.
"If she wakes up, she'll murder you," Cee whispered. Did I just detect a hint of excitement, of naughtiness, in her voice?
"She won't. When she gets like this, she's out to the world. I know. Look," I answered. I leant forward and gently cupped a breast. "You see?"
Cee was looking, nervously so. She glanced away, then back to my hand as I ran my thumb over Shy's nipple and I felt it respond. Shy didn't stir. I stood back and returned to my chair and beer. Now I could see, like Cee, my wife's semi nudity. All that was covered was her waist. I didn't know if she was wearing panties or not.
Her breasts swelled with the rise of her chest, slightly drooped, areola mischievously dark. With the towel drooped the way it was, she could have been posing for an artist, but instead she had now become my plaything, perhaps our plaything.
"What are you thinking?" I asked Cee as she lit a cigarette.
"I'm thinking it is time I went back to my room if I was sober enough!"
"No you don't. The night is still young."
She looked sideways at me. "I don't know what you are thinking, but I'm not going there!"
I chuckled and then I saw Cee take a deliberate look at her step-sister's semi-nudity. It wasn't a glance, it was something more. She absorbed the view, enjoyed it momentarily. She shifted on her chair and as she leant forward to stub out her cigarette, I could see the outline of her breasts entrapped in her thin bra. Her nipples were erect, of that I am certain. And suddenly I realised that I could take this further, if I wanted to. Needless to say, I didn't have a clue as to how far and toward what goal.
"Do you like her breasts?" I asked Cee and my voice must have interrupted her thoughts be-cause she almost jumped in her chair.
"They're breasts."
"I know that, but do you like them?" I could feel the heat pumping into my cock as I asked the question. I was getting erect, but comfortably so. "I promise I won't tell Shy what you think!"
Silence as she drank from her glass of wine. Thoughts must have been racing through her booze sodden brain because it took some time for her to reply.
"You promise?"
"I do," I rasped, realising now that I was treading on delicate ground.
"Yes. Yes, I do." Even in the little light on the patio, I could see her flush.
"Would you like to touch them?"
"Stop it now."
Shy slept on, a slight snoring sound from her lips. She remained comatose.
"She won't ever know. She'll wake up in the morning without a clue. Trust me. I know."
Cee seemed to relax. "They do want to be touched, don't they?"
"Mmm," I responded, brain and adrenalin racing.
"Would you mind? She is your wife, I mean."
My cock was hammering beneath my shorts looking for an exit. "Well, you could caress your own breasts as you touch hers," I suggested, my voice a tad strained.
Cee almost glared in response. "That's blackmail!"
"Yes," I said. "But they do want to be touched, as you said," I added after a pause. God, if this was to happen, I'm going to have to unzip my pants. And her breasts desired to be sucked I wanted to say, but didn't. Not yet.
Cee took a sip of wine, her eyes now on Shy without shame. "What happens if someone sees us?"
I had thought of that, but our chalet was remote and secluded. It was what I was paying for. I told Cee that. "It is after midnight, anyway. Deserted," I added. "I'll dim the patio lights, if you want?"
Cee nodded, her eyes now focused on my wife's breasts and erect nipples and the opportunity ahead. Had I tapped into some distant fantasy? I stood and went to the dimmer switch, my cock taut against my shorts. As I dimmed the lights, I shifted my erection so the top of my penis escaped the confinements of my underpants.
I sat down as Cee stood up. "Oh God, what am I doing?" she asked quietly and then moved toward Shy. She swayed a little on her legs, the booze and the moment colliding. As she went forward she reached beneath her blouse and unclasped her bra. I heard the clasp go and even my testicles responded. I sat back, now mesmerised.
Cee took her time probably because of nerves, of suddenly realising where she was and what she was about to do. She stood behind Shy as I had done minutes before. I could see the swing of her now naked breasts beneath her blouse – they were similar in size to my wife's, perhaps heavier, more pendulous, but beautifully so. I'd fantasised about them before when she wore her bikini, now they were real and visible.
"What if she wakes up?" she whispered.
"She won't. We'll probably have to carry her to bed. If she does, we'll tell her we were trying to wake her up." My voice was strained as my hand had now strayed to beneath my shorts and I was slowly rubbing the head of my cock.
If Cee was aware of me beginning to masturbate, she didn't seem to care as she reached out with her right hand and cupped my wife's right breast. She cupped the full weight of it. "Oh shit," she sighed, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. Her tanned hand outlined the whiteness of Shy's breast.
Shy didn't stir. Not even a muscle twitched or an eyelid flicker.
I ran my fingers over the length of my erect covered penis – just gently. I did not want this to end. The night was now opening up to unknown events.
Cee kept focused on her hand cupping the breast as she snaked her left hand under her blouse and begin to fondle her own breast. I could see that she immediately began squeezing a nipple, quite roughly, between her fingers. She slowly began fondling Shy's breast, cupping it, moulding it. She bit down on her lip, her eyes not straying.
"Feel her nipple," I whispered as my own hand continued caressing the length of my cock. I knew if I took my cock out and started masturbating openly, my orgasm would be immediate. So I toyed, rather than masturbated. My words didn't seem to infiltrate Cee's moment – she was in her own space, her hands now naturally going to work. Her thumb skipped and jumped over her step-sister's nipple, gently at first and then with some pressure. Her left hand squeezed her own breasts, snaking between the two. She held Shy's nipple between her fingers and slowly she squeezed and milked it.
"Oh God," she moaned. Then she stood back, withdrawing her hand from her blouse. She was breathing quite rapidly. "I need a drink," she said and swayed her to her chair. I kept my hand down my shorts. I didn't see any reason to disguise what I was doing. Shy's left breast showed a slight redness. Cee certainly wasn't a gentle fondler. Those fingers of hers enjoyed causing a hint of pain, of bite, I realised.
She sipped from her wine and glanced down at my hand, the head of my cock. I paused. "You don't have to stop, but that's not coming anywhere near me. It would just over complicate things if they aren't already complicated enough! If you know what I mean?"
I did. She was happily married and what was unfolding at this point in time, was just a moment, a dip into a fantasy; never to be repeated, or so I thought at that point in time. To be frank, even though I had instigated the first move, Cee now seemed to be in control and I was more than content, for obvious reasons, to let it be so.
"I understand," I said, aware that she was again focused on Shy and that she had returned her hand to beneath her blouse and was eagerly squeezing a nipple. I let her continue, shar-ing the moment as I softly stroked the sensitive head of my cock. Again, she bit her lower lip as her hand worked angrily on her breasts.
Shy stirred ever so slightly and the towel shifted near her waist, revealing more of her belly and a hint of what lay below. Then she emitted a soft snore and it was easy to ascertain that she was, again, solidly asleep and back into the land of drunken oblivion.
"Do you want to see more of her?" I asked quietly, my breath out of sync.
She kept looking at my wife, moulding her own breasts, almost mashing them. She took her time in replying. She finally nodded, not even glancing my way.
I stood up and took off my shorts, but kept my underpants on. As much as I wanted to be naked, I didn't want to spoil Cee's experience and whatever fantasy she was indulged in. It was highly erotic and my bare arse and erect cock would, I believed, intrude and turn the experience into something else, something that it wasn't meant to be. I lowered my underpants down a bit so, at least, my rigid member had some space, some air. I walked over to my sleeping wife and stood by her side so that when I removed the towel, Cee would have a good view. I did not know if Shy wore panties.
Cee was watching with intent, both her hands now beneath her blouse, her legs slightly spread open. She made no move to touch herself down there – it seemed that she was a breast woman, was finding enjoyment by manipulating her nipples with concentrated need and enjoyment.
I slowly separated the towel, tossing it either side.
Shy was naked. Her thick, but trimmed bush tantalizingly dark against her tan lines, the lips of her vulva slightly open.
"Oh shit," I heard Cee say behind me. I glanced her way in time to see her unbutton her blouse and toss aside the already unfastened, flimsy bra. Her breasts hung freely, their nipples so similar to her step-sister's they could have been twins. Immediately her fingers went for those pink, brown studs and she began to pull on them as if they were elastic. She teased them, hurt them, her eyes never leaving Shy's secretive bush.
I began to stroke myself as I stood beside Shy, as I watched Cee milk, masturbate, her tits with abrupt, and I'm sure, painful manipulations. She was totally unaware of me masturbating or even when I pulled my balls free of my underpants. We were both indulging in separate fantasies and I didn't want it to end there.
"Cee?"
"Yes," she whispered her breath sounding like a marathon runner's.
"If we want to carry on, you need to help me get her inside just in case."
She didn't hesitate or even question me. I was never one to tempt fate and to have an enquiring security guard suddenly interrupt would not have gone down too well, all things being considered. With my cock now erect as a tent pole and Cee's gorgeous, now finger marked breasts swinging freely, we lifted Shy up under the armpits.
"I can't believe she is still sleeping!"
"I told you so," I whispered as I put my arms under Shy's knees and picked her up, Cee stabilising the action. Staggering a little, I carried her into the chalet, my engorged cock rubbing against her boy-like bum. Cee followed as I arrived at the side of the huge, four poster bed. I nodded for Cee to take her Shy's legs and, together, we slowly laid her now naked body onto the bed.
"I'll close the door," I said. On my way there, I dropped my underpants, kicked them into the corner of the vast bedroom. I closed the door, made sure the curtains were closed. When I turned back to the bed, Cee was standing over Shy, slightly bent forward, with her breasts swaying over her step-sister. Cee started milking herself, pulling on her teats in long strokes, the pendulum like movement of her tits almost hypnotic.
I was so close to having an orgasm I kept my hands off my cock and stood at the foot of the bed, my wife's vulva invitingly close.
"I want to try..."Cee began to say, and then her voice faltered.
"Try what?"
"I..oh Hell.." Cee leant forward and taking the nipple of her right breast, she slowly moved it closer to Shy's sleeping lips. It was painfully erotic and I knew if I touched myself, I would explode. Cee fed her nipple between those parted lips. She pinched the end of her nipple painfully, wincing as she did and then leant forward further and inserted her nipple between Shy's lips. As if she was baiting her, tempting her.
My wife, involuntarily, probably instinctively began to suck on Cee's hardened, bruised and inflamed nipple. She suckled once, then twice, and then her jaw went slack.
Cee's orgasm was immediate. She buckled at the knees and stood back, immediately her hands going for her groin as the tremors exploded. Her nipple left Shy's mouth with a soft explosive sound. Cee writhed on her feet as her orgasm played through.
I ejaculated immediately, managing to point my cock away from the bed and toward the floor where I knew I could clean up the evidence.
Within seconds, it was over and Cee, flushed, and almost somnambulistic, pulled her blouse closed and mumbled that she had to go.
Weak at the knees, I let her do so as my wife gently emitted a soft snore.
A CRACK ON THE BEACH PT 2
The next day as we lounged on the beach and as Shy took a swim nearby, I looked over at Cee.
"I hate saying this, "I began, "but I don't know if we can carry on getting her drunk like this every night."
Cee nodded. "I know."
We watched Shy in the waves.
"But I haven't finished yet," Cee suddenly murmured.
My stomach flipped. My God, what was going on in this woman's brain?
"Maybe we don't have to get her that drunk," Cee suggested. "Maybe she's not as inhibited as you think she is..."
Before I could retaliate and tell her that this was my wife, whose sexual needs I knew well, we were discussing, Shy started walking toward us, her wet bikini glued to her breasts and between her thighs.
"It would be so sad not to see that flesh again, wouldn't it?" Cee whispered beside me refer-ring to Shy as she neared.
"What are you two talking about?" Shy asked as she started towelling herself down.
"Skinny dipping," Cee suddenly said and stood up.
What? We were!? I sat up, blinking beneath my sunglasses. Now what was she doing?
"Oh, that's illegal on the beach," Shy naively commented. "It says so in the brochure."
Cee stood alongside Shy and looked at me. "I know, but not up at the chalet. I mean, it is very private, isn't it?" She put her arm over her step-sister's shoulders. "I think it could be fun and a good way to get rid of the sand. Anyone want to join me in a gin and tonic?"
"I wouldn't say no," Shy responded and Cee walked off, that bum of hers swinging seductively. Gin and tonics? That was a new one. And now skinny dipping? I was in a haze, realising that Cee had lured Shy into something real, something that she was acutely aware of; something she could, or not, participate in.
"How did that conversation start? About skinny dipping," Shy asked, running the towel down her legs.
"Oh, I don't know. I just said that this beach was so secluded it would make a perfect nudist beach," I lied and took sanctuary in my first cold beer of the day.
"Cee seems quite excited by the idea," Shy said, watching me.
"Cee does? I doubt it!" I was wriggling like a worm here.
"Oh, don't be so sure," Shy replied and sat on the edge of the lounger. "With a few drinks inside her, who knows what she thinks."
This was like déjà-vu; an echo of a recent conversation with Cee, but now my own wife was participating! I began feeling that warmth in my belly, that tingling of anticipation.
"And what do you think?"
"You mean about skinny dipping?" Shy asked and shrugged. "I've seen you naked enough my husband!"
I don't know why I said it. It just came out of my mouth before I had considered the repercussions. "Ah, but you haven't seen her naked," I told her. During the pause my mind boggled at what I had just said; I envisaged quick retribution and hours of debate and accusation. I awaited my demise. "Not, umm, recently I suppose," I added, hoping to defuse the bomb.
Instead Shy bit down on her lower lip, exactly in the same manner as I had witnessed Cee do so often over the last two nights. Shy ran a hand briefly across her stomach. "Mmm," she replied. "That's true. That's very true," she added, with a quick, distant smile.
Cee arrived with the first of many gin and tonics and I basked in the sun wondering if there was something in the island's drinking water: some natural additive that had a way of tossing inhibition aside, of turning fantasy into reality?
We returned a few hours before midnight to the chalet from dinner. Both Cee and Shy had the giggles. They were tipsy, but not drunkk; not as inebriated as usual and I presumed this was because they had stayed on the gin and not mixed. We settled on the patio and the first bottle of wine was opened. It was a warm, breezeless night. We chatted and laughed and all seemed, well, normal, other than for Cee on more than one occasion, touching Shy's knee or hand. But maybe that was me imagining things.
"I think," Cee announced suddenly, "it is time for your hubby to take a swim."
"Oh, you do, do you?" giggled Shy. "Do you hear that, hubby of mine?"
I had already decided, of course, to go ahead without whatever Cee was in the process of conjuring. My only reservation was as how Shy was going to react, if at all. And both women had seen me naked, not that Shy was aware of that equation, either.
"What about you two?"
"You first," Cee ordered.
"Yes, you first," Shy echoed, a slight slur to her words. That wine was starting to kick in.
"Not fair. I'm happy to go first, but how do I know you both won't chicken out?"
Cee glanced at Shy. "We could meet him halfway and take our tops off?" she suggested.
I saw Shy take a good swig of her wine and, dare I think it, tighten her crossed legs. "You do, do you?" she asked Cee, ignoring me.
"Mmmm. Nobody will see you. I'll go first if you like?" Cee replied, focusing on my wife and I now knew only too well what that focused look of hers meant. The spider, as they say, was beginning to weave its web.
There was definitely now a change in the atmosphere – a hint of tension, of nervousness; like the minutes before a storm. I was, momentarily, forgotten as Shy and Cee played out their teenage-like scenario.
"Nobody can see us," Cee repeated. "Anyway, who cares if they do?"
Shy didn't glance my way. With her free hand she adjusted the neckline of her loose, linen dress in what I construed to be a nervous gesture, or was it a pre-emptive one?
"Okay. You go first," Shy said and sipped from her glass, her eyes not leaving Cee's face as she did so. This little duel was beginning to titillate and frustrate.
Cee unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off, revealing the swell of her bosom entrapped in the confinements of a lacy brassiere. Had she prepared herself for this? I watched Shy for her reaction and it was small, but there. Her eyes dropped briefly toward her step-sister's mounds and she took a little nip of her lower lip.
"Do you want to help me?" Cee asked Shy.
Shy nodded and Cee turned her back to my wife for her to unclasp her bra. What I did not want to do was to be hard when it was my turn to undress (I wanted, for some odd reason, to be nonchalant) and I battled trying to think of anything else (Hiroshima, the bank balance) other than what was being played out in front of me.
Shy unclipped Cee's bra and Cee turned back to my wife clasping the unhitched garment to her boobs. Then she discarded it, revealing those breasts, those nipples that I knew where more than her pride and joy. They were the centre of her sexual gratification.
"Oh," said Shy and reached out for her glass of wine, BUT her eyes had not wavered and Cee knew this because I saw that glimmer, that shadow of victory pass over her face. Cee leant forward a little to reach for her own glass and this allowed her breasts to swing pale against her tan lines, the nipples half-erect and wanting attention: a need I'm sure my wife was aware of.
"Now it is your turn and I'll help you if you want?"
I remained on the perimeter, thankfully forgotten as Shy moved her hands to untie the thread that held the top of her dress over her chest. "Are you sure?" she asked Cee.
"Of course and it feels wonderful and cool. Go for it."
Shy took another gulp of wine and reached up to begin untying the thread. Cee leant back and, consciously I believe, swept her hand across her breasts, drawing attention to them, as Shy revealed her own under her bra.
"Turn around," Cee told Shy and her tone of voice sent a quick shiver through me – she was gaining control, she was finding "that" place.
My wife presented her back to Cee, and Cee slipped forward on her chair to unhinge the bra; she slipped forward just enough so that her nipples caressed Shy's bare back. She unclipped the brassiere. "Now turn around," Cee said softly.
Shy turned so that she was facing Cee and was profile to me. Cee reached out and removed my wife's unclasped bra, allowing my wife's breasts to drop naturally close to her hands and if there is one aspect I know about my wife's nipples it is that I know when they are aroused, and from my position, her nipples were well stimulated; they were erect, pert, like fruity pencil stubs, almost painfully so; enlarged and gorged. I saw, in a flash, the similar resemblance to Cee's nipples, the same ability to almost penetrate, to be teased and pinched.
Cee was in control and she remained collected as she calmly took in the sight of Shy's erect teats and the rounded swell of her mature breasts. "You've got some sand," Cee whispered.
Shy was almost nipple to nipple with Cee. "I do?"
"Huh huh, right there," Cee whispered and she ran her full hand over the curve of her step-sister's left breast and over that stout protrusion so that it bounced back as her hand left it. "There, I got it."
"Oh," whispered Shy. "Thanks."
Cee turned on her chair. "Your turn hubby," she said. "Isn't that so, Shy?"
The mood shifted, turned to me. Shy regained her composure and seemed to forget that she was now semi-nude as she topped up her glass of wine, the swing of her boobs alluring. "Absolutely."
Cee adjusted her chair so it was more front on to me and closer to Shy, almost shoulder to shoulder, their nakedness as one.
I stood up. How I remained at half-mast I don't know, but it is what I wanted. If I was going to get hard I wanted to do so at the right time, if and when it arrived. "Okay, okay, you win," I said trying to keep the mood light and I pulled off my T-shirt and went for the button at the waistband of my shorts. There was no use in messing about so I removed my shorts and underpants in one motion and dropped them, kicked them aside. The night's air felt good on my semi-erect member.
"That's a nice hubby; a very nice hubby indeed."
"Mmm, I know," Shy smiled with the glass of wine to her lips.
"Perverts," I joked and headed for the small, patio pool. As I stood on the steps I glanced in the direction of the two semi-nude women. They were watching so I touched myself once, casually, and then descended the steps. Though the size of the pool was minimal, it had a good depth so I submerged and did a few laps underwater. When I surfaced, Shy and Dee were standing at the edge of the pool, wine glasses in hand.
Shy was only wearing her panties having lost her dress on the way over and Cee was still wearing a short, loose skirt. I stood in the centre of the pool, my cock almost visible. "Are you coming in?" I asked them both, letting my hand float across my midriff, drawing attention to my penis.
"Let me hold your glass. It's your turn to go first," Cee told Shy.
Shy hesitated for a beat. "Oh, what the Hell," she finally said and handed her glass to Cee. She lowered her panties and stepped out of them, her bush dark and enticing in the patio lights. "That's a bit fresh," she giggled.
Cee turned her back on Shy. "Undo me," she told my wife as she held both glasses of wine in her hands.
I went and sat on the edge of the pool, my feet still in the water and watched Shy as she stepped behind Cee and unzipped her dress. Cee gave a little wiggle of that arse I was be-coming to know well and the garment fell to her ankles.
"Oh," said Shy. "No panties?"
"Too hot," Cee responded, facing Shy. There they stood, as naked as the day they were born. Shy was a little inhibited, holding a hand to her left breast as they approached the pool. Cee gave me the two wine glasses to take care of and I put them beside me. The two women entered the pool and I let my cock do its own thing as they swam. Their tan lines were magnified in the water, as was the paleness of their bums, the darkness of their cracks and the pinkness of their areola. I became comfortable erect.
Shy swam up to me and come close to the edge and reached for her glass of wine. She looked at my rigid cock. "Having fun are we?" she asked, sipping away, a touch mischievous.
I grinned, shrugged, trying to play it calm. "And you?"
"A bit chilly, but it's nice."
Cee approached from the centre of the pool, the water waste deep, and those projectile nipples of her were, well, armed and proud. Instead of coming to stand beside Shy, she came up behind her and kept back a foot or so.
"Mmm, Hubby is looking good," she teased. "Does he play with it a lot?"
I watched Shy for her response. "Always, even when he thinks I don't know," she responded, a slight slur to her speech now. "He likes doing it."
"All men jerk off," I tried to argue.
"That's nice," interrupted Cee. "I wish my hubby would for me."
Then Cee stepped forward and put her naked body up against Shy as she reached over her shoulder and picked up her glass of wine off the edge of the pool. The instant I saw the bodily contact, I glanced at Shy to see her reaction and, at first, as quick as a flash of lightening, her eyes widened, then she bit down on her lower lip and didn't move.
"Oh, your bum's cold," Cee told Shy, her mouth close to her ear, her neck.
"No it isn't!" Shy tried to argue, but her voice was strained, conflicting with the sensations pulsing through her naked body.
"It is."
"No it's not!" Here, again, was that teenage banter, like a tennis match with no referee.
"Here, give me your hand," Cee ordered in that tone of voice I was becoming accustomed to. Before Shy could move or complain further, Cee took hold of Shy's free hand, the one that was not welded to her wine glass, and brought it around so it was between her and Shy and, from my position, sitting on the edge of the pool, I could just make out the action as Cee physically "attached" my wife's hand to a cheek of her bum.
And then Cee moved even closer, entrapping my wife's hand against her own arse with her groin, her thighs, her swinging breasts now against Shy's naked back. Cee had not lost grip of Shy's hand and she had full control of it as she pressed herself against my wife's now slightly bent body. Cee had, in retrospect, manhandled Shy into a buggering position with one hand behind her back.
And there I sat like a seal on display at a local aquarium, my cock so hard I believed a heart attack imminent. I was throbbing. Cee was in command. My wife was being physically ma-nipulated and before I could think about intervening, I saw in Shy's face an expression that was anything but one of revulsion or of disagreement – instead, she was biting her lower lip, her focus way beyond me, the pool or the locale. Her eyes had glazed over; she was enjoy-ing this. I had seen that expression many times before, when I had entered or licked her.
"You see? A cold bum – am I right?
"Yes," Shy agreed. Her voice was low and distant.
"Let me warm it up."
Cee's body was now hard pressed against Shy, her pale buttocks tense under the water as she applied pressure, pushed against the hand she had snared. My visibility was limited – it was all reflection, shadow and water, but I could detect physical movement. Cee rotated her hips against Shy's backside, gyrating, not humping and all the time keeping hold of Shy's hand but what she was doing with it, I could not see.
Shy stared ahead, her eyes slightly hooded, her breasts mashed against the edge of the pool as Cee applied further pressure with her hips. I stroked myself intermittingly, Shy's hooded eyes glancing only once at me but only as if I was a distraction.
Then Cee, abruptly, stood back. "Time for me to go to bed," she whispered, her teats prominent.
"Oh," Shy managed to say, her breath tight in her chest.
The next morning, even though it was a humid as Hades, there were scattered rain showers so Shy and I stayed up at the chalet. I did some internet business and Shy read. The events of the night before were left in the ethos, but I was curious as if they would progress any further, or that they were now concluded, that the physical contact between Cee and Shy had injected reality into fantasy and, therefore, sapped that fantasy's energy, had removed the magic and the interest, the dream.
Cee arrived mid-morning bearing two bottles of champagne and a shopping bag. I met her on the patio which was wet after the downpour we'd had an hour ago. When I saw the liquor, my curiousness was reawakened. What was she busily conjuring? The idea that I had become, through circumstance, a pawn in this game suited me well – shit, as they say, happens, and since our first disrobing of Shy three nights ago, Cee had taken control and, frankly, and I dare any man in my predicament to deny otherwise, I was like a pig in a sewer.
"I bring gifts," Cee announced.
"So I see."
"Where is she?"
"I think she's just about to take a shower," I told her, watching her face, waiting to see her reaction.
"Perfect timing as always," she smiled. "Did she mention last night?"
"Yes. She said she liked it."
Cee grinned. "Good. Did you?"
Now I grinned. "Of course I did. And you?"
"I may hate you forever if you tell me stop, but I will if you want me to?"
I shook my head and reached for the first beer of the day as Cee traipsed her way into the chalet. I sat down and watched the storm clouds brewing. I no longer doubted that this was anywhere near its end, and who was I to interfere?
"Hubby, your opinion is needed," Cee called from within the chalet after a few minutes. "Hurry up."
With beer in hand, I ambled into the chalet, past the mirror room and to the large shower room. Shy was standing there with a towel hurriedly d****d over nudity – Cee's arrival must have caught her unawares. Cee presented to me what looked like three brightly coloured squares of cloth attached with thin strips of material.
"What on earth is that?"
"Its a micro-bikini for Shy," Cee announced.
"I'm not wearing that," Shy challenged.
"What do you think?"Cee asked me.
"Well, it would be interesting to see how it looks...umm...kind of different!"
Cee turned on Shy. "There, hubby agrees."
"Of course he would," Shy said, rolling her eyes, her hands clasping the towel between her legs. "He can wear it."
"Oh, come on – I'm going to wear mine," Cee said. "Nobody will see you in it other than us."
"You bought one?" Shy asked Cee.
"Of course I did."
"I'll think about it after I shower..."
"Good. You jump in whilst Hubby gets the champagne glasses."
I stepped into the lounge, grabbed three glasses and headed back toward the shower room and to where Cee had put the champagne bottles aside. Shy hadn't moved, and neither had Cee.
"Well, take your shower," Cee told Shy as she began unbuttoning her own blouse.
Shy glanced at me and I smiled, shrugged and taking a deep breath she then dropped the towel and headed into the oval shower room as Cee slipped out of her blouse, revealing her bra. It took a few seconds for Shy to become accustomed to her own nudity and to realise that Cee was also getting undressed.
"What are you doing?" Shy asked Cee as she stepped under the water, the dark patch between her thighs prominent. I popped the champagne as Cee took of her brassiere, allowing her breasts to fall free.
"Putting on my bikini," Cee replied nonchalantly, her eyes openly devouring Shy's nakedness. "What did you think I was doing?"
My hand shook as it poured the fizzy liquid – their banter was beginning, that verbal parry and thrust. I watched inconspicuously, or as much as I was able to.
"Nothing, I..."
"...take a shower, too?"
"...no, I..."
Cee dropped her light skirt, keeping her eyes on Shy. She wore no panties and the sudden revealing of her mound triggered Shy to look straight between her legs and Shy's look lingered just a fraction too long and Cee read it. "I can soap your back if you like?" Cee offered unhurriedly as she ran a hand lightly and quickly over her bush, her action ensuring that Shy kept looking there.
"No...I...fine, thanks," Shy mumbled and feigned looking for the soap, turning her back, the water running down over her arse.
"Champagne is ready," I interrupted, my voice trembling a tad. I shifted my bum against the washbasin counter and played the fly on the wall as Cee began tying on the lower half of the micro-bikini. She kept her eyes on Shy who was beginning to soap herself, her back to us. There wasn't much for Cee to tie – the rear strap disappeared between her bum cheeks like a line of floss between two teeth.
"What do you think?" Cee called out to Shy who turned to look, soapy water cascading. Now they faced one another. Cee did a little pirouette and I saw that the micro-bikini barely concealed her pubes; in fact the stretch of material pronounced her vulva.
"Oh my God," said Shy and, momentarily, kept soaping herself, her attention drawn to her step-s****r's partial nudity and the skimpiness of the costume. "You may as well be wearing nothing!"
"I know," smiled Cee as she adjusted the cloth between her thighs, the movement attracting Shy's eyes. "It feels wonderful and naughty," Cee added, watching as Shy began soaping her vagina – suddenly all inhibitions seemed to disappear as the two women began comparing the outfit like two teenage girls. "Let's try the top," prompted Cee, her focus never leaving Shy as she reached for the thin garment.
Perhaps it was just me, but Shy's fingers seemed to linger, almost teased, her pussy as Cee began putting on the bikini top, or what there was of it. Maybe watching Cee fit the bikini was enough of a distraction for her to forget that was naked and in a shower, or, dare I ponder, was it offering her a little sensual gratification?
"That will never fit your boobs," Shy offered, her hands roaming over her upper torso.
"Speak for yourself," teased Cee and she did up the strap. "There."
"It doesn't even cover your nipples properly," Shy yelped girlishly.
"I know," said Cee. "It's quite a tease, isn't it...? I've left yours here."
Shy switched off the shower and made for a towel. "You seriously want me to wear that?"
"I do," challenged Cee.
"This so weird," said Shy as she towelled off.
I followed Cee out on the patio carrying the champagne glasses, noticing how the thin strip of material moved between her arse cheeks.
"That hitting the right spot?" I asked her with a grin as I opened another beer, referring to the lower half of the micro-bikini.
"Perfectly," she smiled sipping her champagne. "I hope she puts hers on," she added.
"Mmmm," I replied, my eyes glued on Cee's nipples beneath the taut patch of material. If Cee was to get excited, those teats of hers would expose themselves immediately. I sat back in anticipation as Shy exited the chalet. Why anticipation? By now I knew that Cee always had an ulterior motive; the champagne, the micro-bikinis. She was instigating and manipulating.
"Oh my!" Cee exclaimed and I turned to look.
Even though Shy was trying to hide some of her body by loosely carrying a towel, the micro-bikini did everything and more that it was meant to. It perfectly displayed and clung to the shape of her mons veneris; it showed the lips of her vagina, allowed a few pubic hairs to show-off. It was as if she wore a second skin. The swell of her breasts had escaped most of the garment and they offered a perfect contrast to her tan. Her nipples pointed seductively beneath the thin material.
"You look amazing," I said and handed her a glass.
"I feel fucking exposed and silly is what," she said.
"Turn around," Cee said.
"No!"
"Oh come on – you can't hide your bum all day, especially wearing that!"
Shy sighed and turned. As with Cee, the thong was deeply embedded in her crack, reappearing to barely cover her pubes between her legs.
"Very sexy," I offered.
"There. Happy?" she asked Cee.
"Snug as a glove," Cee replied, her eyes never straying.
"I need a drink, or two," Shy said, but there was a sense of pride about her; of being comfortable with the way she looked and felt. Could my wife be a tease? Another interesting layer was being added.
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