The Skinny Dippers Ch. 02

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May 24, 2021 // By:analsex // No Comment

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I suppose I should recap what led me to my latest little dalliance. I was on holidays (reluctantly) in the country with my parents, staying at my sister’s place. Also staying there were my brother-in-law’s family, namely his parents and Diana, his sister.

When Diana went missing one afternoon, and wasn’t answering her phone, I got tapped to run around to a neighbour’s place to kick her butt back home. Figuratively speaking, of course. She was around twenty, with a very nice butt, and kicking it wouldn’t have won me any brownie points.

I strolled along to the neighbour’s place expecting to find her in a gabfest with Maureen, the young woman she was visiting. Instead I found that she and Maureen had a bunch of other young ladies over and they’d all gone swimming. Naked.

Have you ever suddenly found yourself facing half a dozen naked young women? Nerve-wracking doesn’t come into it. I damn near had a heart attack on the spot, and thank god I was wearing jeans that were strong enough to stop my erection ripping right through the material.

Have you ever heard of the cheer-leader effect? Apparently when you put a bunch of pretty young things together they all seem prettier and more sexually attractive. That effect was in full force that day.

Not only that but, after their initial embarrassment, the girls played off against each other, flaunting themselves and daring me to comment. An idiot I am not. I looked them over fairly hard but I kept my mouth shut, apart from delivering Diana’s message. Ignoring uncalled for innuendos I beat a gracious retreat, although I may have said something to the effect that I’d see them all again.

Walking home I’d decided that not only would I see them all again but that I’d be doing my level best to see them naked, one on one. This littler oath, unfortunately, was hampered by a couple of little details. These were the simple facts that, apart from recognizing Maureen and Isabel, I had no idea who the other three girls were or where they lived, although I had seen them around when I visited the nearby shopping centre.

I discussed the matter later that day with Diana, just evincing a general curiosity as to who the young ladies were. I did not tell her that I intended to look them up. Maybe she’s just naturally suspicious of men and their intentions because she let drop that if I wanted to meet Isabel by chance I should take a stroll down a nearby lane at a certain time, as that was when she’d be riding home from work.

It was just a coincidence that I happened to be strolling down that lane at the correct time the next day. Isn’t it odd how these things work out? There I was, strolling along, not a care in the world, and along came Isobel in a manner that surprised me. This was the country and she liked horses. When I heard she would be riding home I naturally put these together and thought she’d be riding horse. Not so. She was riding a bicycle. How plebeian. Here I was trying to think up ways to coax her down from a horse and she was already at ground level. What a waste of effort.

“Isabel,” I said happily, holding up a hand to stop her. “How nice to see you again.”

For a moment she looked confused and then she blushed. Ah, yes, she remembered where I’d seen her last. It occurred to me that having seen a young lady naked gave you somewhat of an advantage, as long as you didn’t push it.

“Um, Michael, isn’t it?” she asked. “Diana’s brother-in-law?”

“That’s right,” I said affably. “You’ve probably seen me around a couple of times. I noticed that you were in the group yesterday.”

She gave a little lady-like canlı bahis şirketleri snort of disbelief, but also blushed again.

“The way you were looking at everyone I’m surprised you could recognise a single person who was there,” she gently derided.

“Oddly, enough,” I said with a grin, “apart from Diana, who I know reasonably well, you were the only person I really noticed in the group. The others were more of a cast of extras, if you get what I mean.”

“Not really. We were all, ah, dressed in the same fashion.”

“Oh, come on,” I protested. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re saying you don’t know?” I asked, giving her a look that was intended to convey disbelief.

Isabel shook her head, looking slightly confused.

I sighed.

“Isabel, at the risk of sounding a trifle crude, you have a magnificent chest. The others were insignificant after I saw these.”

I reached out and lightly touched her breast, by happy chance my finger landing on her nipple. She blushed and pulled back slightly and I didn’t try to maintain contact.

“Really, Isabel,” I said quietly, “with you standing there looking like the original for Venus de Milo, I’m supposed to notice lesser people? Um, there is one thing I should warn you about.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, looking a little flustered.

“It was rather crowded yesterday so I couldn’t do what I would have liked to do, but I did promise myself that I would see your lovely chest up close and touch it.”

“What are you doing,” she demanded, sounding slightly shocked.

What I was doing was flicking open the buttons on her shirt. She just stood there, half standing, half sitting on the bike, while I flicked her buttons open, one by one.

I eased the shirt open and contemplated the treasures within.

“I,” I told her, “am truly thankful to the man who invented bras with a front fastener.”

I gave her a chance to protest but she didn’t take it. Or, at least, if she intended to, she didn’t do it fast enough. I unclipped her bra and watched with admiration as the bra cups dropped away from her breasts, leaving them on display. Raising my hand I glided my palm across her breasts, barely touching them, but feeling her nipples rub against my hand.

“You are magnificent,” I murmured, ignoring her spluttered comment that I had no right to touch her like that.

“Hold still for a moment,” I suggested, stepping closer and placing my hand on her back. Then I leaned forward, kissing first one breast and then the other, changing the second kiss to a gentle sucking of the nipple before moving over to do the same to the one I’d only kissed.

“Do you really think I was noticing what the others didn’t have when you were standing there?” I asked, shaking my head ruefully. “They might as well have not been there, although I suppose it was fortunate that they were.”


“Because it meant that I couldn’t pounce on you and ravish you on the spot,” I said with a grin, giving a nice rolling R to the ravish. “Even now you’re fortunate that I’m a gentleman, because what I’d like to do is drag you off to a secluded spot, kicking and screaming, where I’d tear off all your clothes and have my wicked way with you, ignoring your feeble struggles and protests, ravishing you until you couldn’t be ravished anymore.”

I looked at her and sighed.

“But like I said, I’m a gentleman so I can’t do that.”

She was blushing again and looking a little nervous and, I’m sure it wasn’t my imagination, a little disappointed.

“Anyway, hop off the bike for canlı kaçak iddaa a moment,” I said, holding the handle bars so she could dismount more easily.

“Why?” she asked as she got off, a question she should have asked before she got off.

“So I can kiss you before you go riding off into the sunset,” I told her, kicking the bike stand down and leaving the bike propped up.

Before she could protest I had an arm around her pulling her closer, while my free hand captured a breast. I was a trifle surprised that she hadn’t thought to cover up again but I wasn’t complaining.

“Of course, I could always kiss your breasts again,” I said softly as she pulled away slightly at the mention of a kiss, whereupon she relaxed and let me kiss her.

I kissed her quite thoroughly, my hand playing with her breast while I did so. Finally I broke the lip lock, standing there smiling at her. She was looking a bit flustered but smiled back.

“Ah, what are you doing,” she asked.

“Just undoing a few buttons so I can push these down a little,” I said, fingers busily flicking open the buttons at the waist of her shorts. “It wouldn’t be proper to strip you completely out here in the middle of the road so I thought I’d just push these down a little way.”

“You can’t do that,” she protested quickly, if a little too slowly, as I was already helping her shorts and panties slide down a little.

“Why not?” I asked. “After all, I have already seen you naked. Once more won’t really hurt. Um, why don’t you kneel down?”

I urged her down onto her knees and then onto all fours, kneeling beside her, my hands playing with her. One hand was massaging her magnificent rack while the other slid over her bottom and started massaging her mound.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. What if someone comes?”

“How often do you get traffic on this road?” I asked. Apart from me and her I had seen no-one using it at all.

“Not much until later,” she admitted, “but you still shouldn’t be touching me like that.

“Quite right,” I agreed, changing my position so I was now behind her. “This is a much nicer way to touch you.”

I eased her lips apart slightly and leaned forward, my freed erection out and ready to play. She stiffened slightly as she felt me press against her.

“You can’t do that,” she said. “Oh, my god, you are doing it. Oh my god, it’s coming in. You should stop that.”

I was pushing slowly forward, taking my time, my cock making its way along her passage. No matter what she might choose to claim, her passage was hot and wet and welcoming, my cock fitting snugly within it. Did you notice by the way that she didn’t tell me to stop doing it? She was just insisting that I shouldn’t.

There were a few more calls to god, plus a rather surprised call of, “Well fuck me,” when I slid all the way into her.

Both my hands were around her and holding her breasts now. I wasn’t starting to really take her just yet, letting her get used to what was happening.

“Why me, you bastard,” she grumbled. “Why didn’t you go and jump Diana instead? She’s staying at the same house as you. Oh. Maybe you already have.”

“Isabel, I would never admit as to whether I’ve been with a specific lady. Whether I have or haven’t is no-ones business but mine and I would neither confirm nor deny. The same way I would never confirm or deny being with you. As to why you?”

I squeezed her breasts, letting her draw her own conclusions.

“Now if you’re ready,” I said, starting to move, “shall we proceed?”

I was thrusting into her quite firmly, moving at a nice pace without canlı kaçak bahis rushing things. It didn’t take Isabel long to catch on to my style and she was moving with me, rocking back firmly to meet me. What I did find odd was her commentary.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. It’s broad daylight and we’re out in public. This just can’t be happening. Who jumps a poor girl in the middle of the street? Oh my god, I’m being taken out in the open. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

That last must have been referring to having sex in a public road, because this was certainly not the first time she’d ever had sex. She knew just what she wanted and was pushing hard to get it. When I moved one hand away from her breast she promptly reached for it to drag it back to where it belonged, but her running commentary never stopped.

Mind you, it was interspersed with gasps and moans of pleasure, but god that girl could talk. I was starting to have serious doubts as to whether I should be doing this and actually paused after one thrust to ask if she wanted me to stop.

I didn’t get a chance to ask her. There was a protesting squeal and an indignant demand as to why I was slowing down. I gave an internal shrug and started driving in harder than ever. Physically, she lapped it up, bouncing off me with great enthusiasm. Verbally her litany of protest started up again. Next time I was going to wear earplugs.

All in all, her verbal antics didn’t detract from my pleasure, and seemed to add to hers. She was feeling daring and decadent, having sex in the open, and was enjoying the whole experience. I was actually able to use her talking to judge how she was feeling, her voice getting shriller as we continued, and she actually said that she was going to climax, apparently not believing that such a thing was possible under the circumstances.

It was certainly possible for me and when nature tapped me on the shoulder (or to be accurate, kicked me in the balls) I just pulled out all stops and let it rip. Isabel’s voice rose into a wordless scream of surprise and then she was shuddering and gasping as her own climax took her.

Almost before we had finished Isabel was hastily tidying up her clothes, her face flushed, as she looked up and down the road. Then she was back on her bike, but just half sitting, half standing, not leaving right away.

“How could you attack me like that?” she demanded. “Don’t you dare tell anyone what you did. I’d die of mortification.”

Far be it from me to disappoint her.

“My lips are sealed,” I said, making a zipping motion, and she seemed satisfied.

“Are you going to be chasing the other girls?” she demanded.

“What other girls?” I asked innocently.

“From yesterday.”

“Now, Isabel,” I said gently. “Why would I want to go chasing second best? I’m not even sure who the other girls were.”

She seemed pleased with that answer. She seemed even more pleased when a car came barrelling down the lane. It slowed as it passed us, but didn’t stop.

“See,” Isabel said indignantly. “I said people use this road. That was Mrs Caruthers. She’ll be back this way in the next five minutes on some pretext to see if she can catch us on the side of the road having a wild affair. You just watch. I’m out of here.”

With that she was off, peddling away down the road. A trifle paranoid, maybe. I set off down, strolling along. Maybe not so paranoid, I thought, as Mrs Caruthers drove past in the opposite direction. Maybe she just knows her neighbours.

I was now left with a bit of a conundrum. Who next? There were four more young lovelies at that pool party. Maureen, the twins, Debbie and Tricia, and finally Petunia, better known as Pet. Who the hell named their child Petunia? Did I trust to luck or go hunting? A good question, but one I was finding hard to resolve.

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