We, that is my boyfriend Marcus and I, were in the middle of making love when I heard my husband John’s car pull up in the driveway. He was home way too early and I assumed he must have forgotten something. Annoyed, we quickly scooped up our clothes and hid in my walk-in-wardrobe.

‘Fuck,’ Marcus said. ‘What’s he doing home?’ ‘Shh,’ I whispered.
‘He can’t hear us from up here,’ he whispered back, his hands groping at my breasts.
‘Don’t,’ I giggled, peering back into the bedroom.

The bed was still a mess but I didn’t think John would be coming up there anyway so it didn’t really matter. Marcus, friskier than normal, wanted to continue what we’d started, on the floor of the wardrobe; me I wanted to wait until I heard John’s car pulling out of the drive before starting up again.

‘Come on,’ he said, pulling me over him so I straddled his waist. ‘I need to fuck you, baby.’

Never able to resist him, I positioned myself over him and slid down his thick, hard shaft, filling me up like no other man has ever done. He pulled at my breasts, squeezing the nipples so hard I nearly yelped in pain.

‘Not so hard,’ I said, leaning over to kiss his sexy mouth as he pouted back at me.
‘Hmm, you love it,’ he chuckled.

Leaning over like that was hitting the right spot. He pumped upwards, thrusting his cock up further as I slammed back down on him.

‘Oh yeah,’ I whispered, enjoying it even more now that I knew John was in the house. ‘Harder baby, harder.’

I was peaking, perspiration dripping from me, as I ground myself down on his cock. You can imagine my surprise when I heard laughter on the stairs and John’s voice bellowing up them.

‘Are you sure no one saw you hiding out near the back door?’

I froze for a second before jumping up to find my robe. ‘No,’ the voice giggled. It was Mary, our maid. ‘I didn’t
see Sheila leave, I must have missed her.’
They fell through the open bedroom door, ripping off each other’s clothing. I was outraged. How dare she! I trusted her. I peeked through the crack again, amazed that this had been going on under my very nose and I never knew.
Marcus opened the door a crack further.

‘Check out her tits. They’re massive,’ he whispered.

I bristled. How dare he perv on her. They had fallen onto the bed, both naked. John’s hairy arse winked at me while he nuzzled between her luscious thighs. He went down on her as though starved, smothering himself, his hands groping her heaving breasts.

‘Oh John,’ she moaned, holding his head. ‘Oh yeah, that’s great. Oh yeah baby.’

Marcus was glued to the crack; probably wishing he was closer to her crack than hiding in here with me. He grabbed at me, obviously very aroused by the spectacle we were watching.

‘I need to fuck you baby,’ John moaned, climbing up Mary’s body.

At this angle we could see her pussy, all wet and glistening from John’s workout. He was kneeling over her, his ugly balls sagging as he positioned himself. No wonder I found him so unattractive. His skinny arse pumped like crazy and in a few seconds he’d already come. Mary sighed as though happy. ‘Oh that was so good,’ she breathed. Bullshit! I knew what it was like to have John fuck you and believe me there was nothing spectacular about it. Marcus was probing his cock into the crack of my arse. I wiggled away from him, annoyed that our session had been interrupted and I had to witness my husband’s infidelity. How was I supposed to go back to my bed when they’d just made love in it?

I tried to push Marcus away from me, but he held on tight. I knew he was hornier than normal, I mean looking at Mary’s pussy had even turned me on and I was straight. He grabbed at my breasts while his cock probed down further. Finding my still wet pussy he slid in easily.

‘I think you enjoyed watching them,’ he whispered in my ear.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I spat back, not wanting him to know that the sight of Mary, now reclining on my bed while John was getting dressed, was turning me on even more than I realised.
‘Open your legs for me, sweetheart?’ John asked her.
She lay there, her black hair fanned out around her like a shawl against my white bed sheets, opening and closing her legs, giggling like a schoolgirl.
‘Come on, don’t tease me like that,’ John pleaded.

She had her knees bent up and now dropped them, her pussy gaping wide open. Marcus began to pump into me harder, obviously enjoying what he was watching.

‘Play with yourself,’ John begged.

She slid her fingers around her wet lips, up and down her slit, with her sexy mouth pouting ohs and ahs the whole time. John was sitting on my love seat, his eyes riveted to her pussy. She pulled back the hood, exposing her clit and began to rub.

‘Oh,’ she moaned. ‘I’m so wet from you. Look how wet my pussy is, see how much I love you,’ she breathed.
‘Rub your clit faster,’ he whispered. ‘Make yourself come.’

She ran her tongue along her top lip, while Marcus grabbed my breasts, squeezing them hard, pulling at my nipples. My own hand stole down to find my clit and while he was fucking me I rubbed my engorged nub.
She was arching her back, her breasts jutting upwards, while she rubbed madly. ‘Oh yeah, you like to watch me baby?’ she asked.

‘You know I do,’ he said, rubbing himself absent- mindedly.
‘Oh yeah, look at my titties, my nipples are all hard just thinking about you,’ she giggled.

Thinking about his money was more like it, I thought. Marcus picked up the tempo and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he came. Mary was on the verge of coming herself when I heard a mobile phone ring. I tensed, praying it wasn’t mine. I’d left my bag on the other side of the bed. I froze, holding my breath. Fortunately, it was John’s. ‘Yes, I’ll be right there,’ he snapped.

‘It’s the hospital,’ he said. ‘There’s an emergency. I’m sorry, darling, but I have to go.’
‘Oh, not again,’ she moaned. ‘I was nearly there.’
‘You stay here sweetheart, just relax, do what you want. Sheila won’t be home until late. Take your time, have a bubble bath, I know how much you like them.’
‘But it’s not the same without you,’ she complained.
‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise,’ he said. ‘In a couple of weeks, there’s a conference in Miami. Tell Sheila you’ve got a family emergency and you need the time off. Come with me? Please?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll be stuck in a hotel room all day like the time you took me to New York. That was no fun for me, believe me,’ she pouted.
‘I’ll give you some money and you can go shopping.

You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ he asked.

The bitch! How long had this been going on? That trip to New York was eighteen months ago.
Marcus had pushed me to my knees and was motioning for me to suck his cock. I was angry, really angry. How dare they! How dare he! He was my husband. How could I have not known?

‘Give my pussy a little lick,’ she purred. ‘Of course,’ he said, falling on her.

I was having trouble watching as Marcus was holding my head, his arm blocking my view. I wished they’d hurry up and go. I needed to get out of this wardrobe and
vent some of my anger. I pushed Marcus away, and stood there, arms folded, letting him know I wasn’t happy. Meanwhile, John gave her a quick licking and flew out of the door. She lay there, in my bed, as though it was her own, rolling among my satin sheets, sliding around, her beautiful hair following her as she went.

‘What are we going to do?’ Marcus whispered.
‘We’re going to wait until she goes, now be quiet,’ I whispered back.

I watched her, her gorgeous plump arse staring at me. She had a beautiful body and the more I looked the more I wanted to lie there beside her, to stroke her and have her stroke me. As though sensing how I was feeling, Marcus whispered in my ear.

‘Why don’t we go in and surprise her?’ he said. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said. ‘She’ll tell John.’
‘Tell John what? That we were fucking before they came in and nearly caught us. I don’t think so. Come on, you can threaten to fire her if she doesn’t do what you want.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘Come on. I know you’re a sexy woman and seeing another couple make love like that would turn anyone on. We could use her as our sex slave. Make her do what we both want. It would be a real turn on, don’t you think?’
‘No, I don’t think it would,’ I said, bristling.

Part of me did want it but the other part didn’t. There was no denying that I’d give anything to have her mouth on me, her tongue licking my pussy, her mouth sucking my tits. I’d love to taste her pussy too, but not after John had been fucking her.
While we were talking she left the room and had disappeared into the ensuite. I could hear the water running. We could do one of two things, either quickly get dressed and leave or perhaps I could catch her in the bath. Catching her in the bath appealed to me. I’d make her beg for my forgiveness. I’d allow her to promise me anything just to keep her job. Yes, that’s what I’d do.
Marcus and I quickly got dressed and I told him to wait until he heard me coughing before coming back upstairs. He snuck out of the room, eager for this to play out to his advantage. Meanwhile I tried to compose myself before opening the ensuite door.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I demanded, feigning outrage.

She turned to see me standing there. Shocked, her hair piled up on her head, she looked absolutely gorgeous, as her big eyes stared worriedly at me. Wispy pieces had fallen down over her luscious breasts, which were half submerged under bubbles. I could barely tear my eyes away.

‘Oh, I’m sorry…I…er…um,’ she stuttered. What could she possibly say?
‘Get out of my bath at once,’ I demanded.

She stood, water cascading down her amazing body. I’d never been so turned on in my life. What should I do now? I wanted her in the bath with me, to wash, caress and hold me. She grabbed a towel and tried to hurry from the room.

‘Not so quickly,’ I said, slowly dropping my clothes onto the floor. She stood there staring, rigid like a statue.
‘I’ve always wanted a full body wash and massage. I think under the circumstances you’ll be happy to help me out with that now, wouldn’t you, Mary?’
‘Yes, Miss, I’d be happy to,’ she stumbled, clearly surprised at this turn of events.

I lowered myself into the spa and beckoned her over. As quick as a flash she was in there with me, washing my body, careful not to touch any private areas. But that’s not what I wanted. I wanted her to squirm, to beg me to keep her on, to beg me to allow her to do anything I desired.

‘Can I wash your breasts?’ she asked, clearly realising that this was more than just some help bathing. Good. I wanted her to work hard at pleasing me before I let Marcus join this party.
‘Yes, you can,’ I said.

God, it was heavenly. Her soft fingers kneaded my flesh, washing soapy hands over me, lingering on my nipples until they stood out on their own, a clear indication I was enjoying this on a sexual level. Her beautiful brown eyes stared at me, before her long black lashes looked down at my heaving breasts. Slowly she moved closer and I made no attempt to stop her. I watched mesmerised as her soft lips descended upon me to lick and tantalise my nipple before sucking as much of my breast into her gorgeous mouth as she could.

My head fell back against the pillow that was cushioned there and I let out a wonderful sigh of enjoyment. Her hand moved down between my legs and she parted them so she could move in between them. What bliss. With my eyes closed I felt her fingers searching until she located my clit. She pinched at it lightly before entering me.

With the warm water lapping at my body I slipped into a dreamlike trance. Her mouth and fingers were bringing me to an emotion I’d never felt before and, as I opened my mouth to moan, a hard cock was thrust into it. Marcus, the cheeky bugger, he just couldn’t wait. He was spoiling everything. There was nothing I could say with my mouth full of cock, so I grabbed at his shaft and dragged him by his cock, forcing him to fall into the spa. Mary just looked at the two of us in surprise.

‘Are the two of you are having an affair?’ she spluttered. ‘That’s none of your business,’ I said.
‘No miss,’ she replied, her eyes downcast.
‘So what are you doing in Sheila’s bath?’ Marcus asked her.
‘I caught her soaking in it when I came home,’ I told him.

I watched her to see if she would go along with what I’d planned. I knew she was having an affair with John but she didn’t know that I knew. I also saw how her eyes latched on to Marcus’s massive cock. After having sex with John she was probably keen to have a real man. A young, strong man with a hard cock.
‘You want to keep your job, Mary?’ I asked. ‘Oh yes, mam,’ she said.
‘Then you are to do everything that I ask of you and in return I won’t mention to my husband how you overstepped your position. Is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ she said smiling as Marcus moved beside me and began stroking my breast.
‘You can begin by finishing my bathing and then I’ll let you know what else I’d like.’
‘Of course,’ she said, eager to comply with my wishes.

She returned to my body, her hands caressing me as she soaped me once again. Marcus lifted a breast out of the sudsy water, blew the bubbles that had gathered away from my nipple and lowered his mouth to it, sucking on it gently while eyeing her reaction.
She showed none.

I smiled at him. Yes, this would work out perfectly. I gasped as her fingers slid among my folds, gently lingering over my clit, while Marcus’s hand joined hers and they both paid attention to my pussy.
This was wonderful. I loved being in control, giving orders.

My hand stole down to Marcus’s cock and I ran it up and down his shaft, squeezing it hard, showing him how turned on I was. I wanted to guide him into my pussy, have him fuck me there in the spa, and why not, I was the one calling the shots.
And that’s exactly what I did do. I lifted my arms to rest on the edge of the spa, my breasts floating on top of the water, while Marcus moved Mary aside, grabbed my thighs and pulled them apart. In one quick movement he was inside me, his cock allowing water to penetrate me as he began to pump rhythmically.
Mary just watched on, her eyes wide, sparkling with mischief.

‘You can get out now. Dry yourself and bring us some clean towels,’ I said, wrapping my legs around Marcus’s back, lifting myself up so he could suck on my tit.

We both watched her rise, with water dripping from her beautiful body. I whispered in his ear. ‘Take it easy baby. We’ve got all afternoon.’
Later, after a wonderful massage, I lay back on my bed where she’d been not an hour earlier. I opened my legs while Marcus lay beside me.

‘Lick me,’ I demanded.

She did. Her tongue was amazing. So different from a man’s. It was soft yet hard. Thick when she lapped at me, yet thin when she honed in on my clit. Why had I never done this before?
Marcus was focusing all his attention on my breasts but I saw how his eyes flickered all over her body. I knew what he wanted, so I obliged him.

‘Get down there and lick her from behind,’ I said. ‘Nuzzle into her pussy while she’s doing mine.’

I laughed as he scurried down there and watched as he lifted her beautiful arse up by the hips so her knees were just on the edge of the bed. He knocked them apart and as his tongue touched her she smothered herself into me, licking like a woman possessed, nibbling on my clit until I came in her mouth.
I was so turned on I couldn’t wait any longer for Marcus’s cock.

‘Quickly,’ I demanded, ‘get over here and fuck me.’

Pushing Mary aside he clambered up my body and sunk himself deep inside me. Mary’s hands were all over my breasts and I pulled her closer to me so I could kiss her mouth, taste myself on her. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, with her tongue and Marcus’s cock deep inside me I came again and again.

We spent the whole afternoon making love. By the time the two of them left I was exhausted. I showered quickly and then lay back in bed to rest and plan my next erotic adventure and, boy, did I have fun thinking about it.

Good help was hard to find and I had no intentions of every letting Mary go. With her not knowing that I knew about her relationship with John, I had the upper hand. She’d certainly not tell him about Marcus, he’d have no use for her if we divorced and he became single. This way we all received the best of our maid’s services.

The post The Maid appeared first on sexstories.org.

Swimming always gets me going. Blood pumping through these sluggish old veins after being holed up in the holiday cottage with a load of rutting couples. I love it when the water’s cold and rough. Far out there a couple of surfers are wrestling with the waves. Here the beach is deserted.

And now I’ve earned a kip. The sun’s really warm after the cold water. I whip my bathing suit off and flop down onto my towel but my heart’s still drumming, my body still buzzing. I turn on my back, stretch my legs out, point my toes to make them look longer. Hmm, still pretty good.

A breath of air tickles my slightly parted fanny. I open my legs a little more. I grope about in the sand to find my oil, but I can’t find it. My hand flops back onto my bare stomach and the touch electrifies me. I move my fingertips down to the hairless groove running along the top of my thigh and that makes me jump, too. The skin is the largest organ of the human body, and boy is it the most sensitive.

There’s another place, though. So sensitive it could make me come with a butterfly kiss. My hand wanders back up to my breast, just brushes the top, avoiding the nipples. They swell out luxuriantly. My stomach flutters.

I drop my hands. Is it possible to tease yourself? The sun rests on my eyelids while my hand drags back to my stomach. I move it in circles, frantic messages puckering up my nipples. My stomach tightens. My thighs fidget on the towel, open up wider. I fan my fingers, catching at a hardening nipple, and sidle the other hand downwards to the warm nest of hair. My fingers tangle in the wet curls, pulling strands, feeling each hair tug on the tender skin.

My middle finger extends down the crack and I half gasp, half giggle at the moist blood-heat warmth just inside the lips. That’s not just damp from the sea although I wonder what it would taste like now. I wiggle my finger, feeling the sliver of sensitive flesh. I shock it into tingling response. I moan softly, sure that the sound is only in my ears.

A shadow crosses my face and I swear, thinking a cloud is obscuring the sun. But it’s too solid for that. There’s a tall shape a couple of feet away. Surely not the others, come to spy on me from the cottage? I raise myself up on my elbow, ready to give them hell. My breast bounces against my arm. I raise one knee to get myself upright and a droplet of juice runs out of my crack and across my thigh.

It’s not my friends. It’s one of the surfers. His short wetsuit is rolled down his torso and he has his back to the sea. He can see me clearly, but I’m half blinded by the glare. I raise one hand to shield my eyes and take a good look at him. Sex on legs. Like something out of a beer advert. He’s lithe and tanned. His face is young. So young. Tiny gold prickles of barely shaved stubble speckle his brown cheeks. Hectic flushes of blood are just visible under the skin. Is he blushing?

I try to remember myself at his age. It wasn’t so long ago, for God’s sake. He’s seventeen, eighteen. Maybe nineteen. Definitely a boy and yet his body has been worked on. Hard. No ounce of puppy fat. His arms are big with muscle.
I let my eyes flutter back to his face. I open my mouth to speak, but he’s not about to make small talk. His bright blue eyes are fixed on my big breasts, hanging there in the sunshine. I must look like some kind of nude sculpture there on the towel. I suppose I could always pretend I’m one of those naturists.

But the naturists always claim there’s nothing sexual about nakedness, don’t they? What bollocks. I reckon this boy’s nakedness would be a blatant invitation to a shag-fest. His eyes are burning on me and my nipples harden as if agreeing with my assessment. They shrink into tight little arrowheads. Pointing directly at my young stranger.

The young man/boy swallows, getting the message. He scuffles his bare feet in the sand. Shit. He’s trying to get away. I want to stretch out and stop him. But no. He’s just planting them more firmly in that kind of swaggering stance young men have. Through his tight wet suit I can see his groin bulging against the black cloth. I want to rip it off here and now. I want to know what’s going on underneath.

‘Surf up today?’ I suddenly ask into the sizzling silence. I can imagine my mates up at the cottage giggling at my lousy attempt at surf-speak. ‘I thought there were two of you out there.’

He nods, and tosses his head back towards the waves. His hair is beginning to dry into bleached strands.

‘My brother’s still out there. I got a cramp.’ ‘I can see that.’

The fluttering in my stomach is back with a vengeance. No, forget fluttering. Nothing lady-like about this sensation. It’s twisting and tightening with total lust. I can’t believe I’m still sprawled here like some kind of centrefold. Usually I would have lifted the towel by now to cover myself up. I’d have made some shy, dismissive remark to send him on his way, but right now his glowing stare and his unmistakeable hard-on are just too good to waste. I’m not letting this opportunity pass. Apart from anything else, I intend to dine out on it tonight. The others will never believe me.

‘Want some lemonade?’ God, I sound like his aunt.

‘My dad says you should never accept drinks from strangers,’ he croaks with a lopsided grin, and I laugh. How sexy is that grin? How sexy is it that we’re strangers? I take the bottle from the cool bag and wave it at him.

‘I say you’re big enough to look after yourself.’ I’m still laughing. I pat the towel beside me. He steps closer. I’m making him feel safe. He leans across me, and swigs from the bottle. ‘So,’ I go on, my voice husky with laughter and desire. ‘Do you know this part of Devon?’

‘No. It’s my first time.’

Colour floods his cheeks even more as he says it, and this time I rein in my dirty chuckle. I quietly take the lemonade from him, keeping my green eyes calmly on his burning blue ones, and without wiping his spittle off the neck of the bottle I flick my tongue round the wet rim before tilting my head back to take a deep swallow. Now his eyes are on my throat as the cold liquid swishes down. This is like something out of a movie.

‘I mean, it’s the first time we’ve been down to this coast,’ he stammers. ‘Dad’s rented a place for the summer. He insisted we come here this year. Normally we go to Constantine Bay, in Cornwall. The surf’s miles better over there. So’s the surfing crowd. I mean, it’s just dead round here, isn’t it?’

‘That depends what you’re after,’ I remark lazily. The bottle is still hovering above my open mouth as if I’m about to give it head. I lick it again, turning myself on with the suggestive swipe of my tongue. Then I wrap my lips round the long cool shape and swallow a little more. His Adam’s apple jumps. I screw the top back on. On an impulse I put the bottle not back in the cool bag but between my legs, resting it up against my pussy. I can’t stifle a gasp as the cold plastic meets the sensitive, warm flesh. I lean back, letting it rest there, restraining myself from grabbing it and rubbing it up and down my hot slit like a sex toy. The urge won’t go away. But then, nor will the boy. My voice comes out in a low moan. ‘There’s plenty to entertain you if you know where to look.’

‘I’m beginning to realise that–’ Without the bottle the boy doesn’t know what to do with his hands. So he starts rolling the wetsuit back up his stomach.

‘It’s too nice out here today to cover yourself up. It may not be the Med, but this lovely weather has got to be a record for Devon. Sit down for a moment. Like you said, there’s nothing to do round here. So there’s no rush, is there?’

‘No rush,’ he echoes, and his young voice dips violently into a deep manly timbre, at odds with his adolescent face. My cunt gives a couple of uncontrollably cheeky twitches, practically nudging the bottle away as I watch him wrestle with the twin urges to come and sit near me or to stand there and remain cool.

Time to be a little less obvious. I relent and draw my legs up, so that my pussy is temporarily hidden from his confused, hungry gaze, but the movement brings the bottle harder against me, its long shape pushing between my sex lips and nudging the tiny bud of my clit. I grip it with my legs and feel the droplets of condensation mingling with my own sweat and moisture.

I’m getting breathless again, as if I was still swimming. I want to show the boy what I can do with the bottle, but it’s too soon. I hitch myself up the towel, pulling my shoulders back in an effort to look more sophisticated, but that just thrusts my breasts out so that his baby-blue eyes, which are still struggling to remain politely focused on my face, swivel back to watch the tightening of my red nipples.

‘It may be a bit quiet, but where else can you get quite so close to nature, after the city smoke? I expect that’s what your dad was after,’ I whisper, trying not to giggle out loud with delight. Something is still warning me to act very calm, sit very still so as not to alarm him. ‘That’s why I’m stretched out here, starkers. Never do that in London, do you? Hope you don’t mind me being topless like this?’

He shakes his head violently, like a little boy trying not to tell a lie, and at last, like an animal tempted in from the wild, he squats down, just by my feet. He rubs the salty strands of yellow hair off his hot face.

‘So. You here on holiday, or what?’

He’s giving in. He can’t take his eyes off my tits, even though he’s attempting to make conversation. I know my nipples are harder and darker now and impossible to ignore. Neither of us really wants to talk, do we? It’s as if he’s in a sweet shop with no pocket money. His tongue slides across his white teeth and he gulps. I keep my smile faint but encouraging.

‘It’s a mixture,’ I answer. ‘Work, and play.’ ‘So which is this bit? Work, or play?’

A soft wind comes off the sea and ruffles his hair. He swipes it impatiently out of his eyes. My own hair tickles my face, and the wind caresses my bare skin like delicate fingers.

‘Oh, that’s easy. Play,’ I whisper, not sure if he can hear. ‘This bit is definitely play.’

I tilt forwards on to my knees, the bottle still clamped there. I pause for a moment as he blinks, focusing on the big tits bouncing right there in front of him as if they were ice creams on offer. Then I pick up one of his large hands from where it’s digging frantically about in the sand. I lift it like it’s a warm animal and place it on one swollen breast. My nipple spikes against his palm. His mouth drops open. My head falls back as his fingers close harder, making it ache. I spread my knees a little to balance more comfortably in front of him, dislodging the bottle. I lean back on the towel so that my spine is arched and my breasts are pushing at him, jumping up with each heartbeat.

The dry grass rustles in the slight breeze, and far away the waves curl with a collective sigh onto the beach. Both the boy and me are panting. My tits disappear into his hesitant fingers. His blue eyes blaze with a crazy request. Christ, it’s enough to make me melt. Of course you have permission, my precious. I’m practically begging you!

My head feels heavy. The only energy is fizzing between my legs. I’m ready to let him take and thrust and pummel. I want to make him into a man. I have privacy, sunshine, a boy with the body of a god waiting for me to show him the way. And all the time in the world.

Lust is eating me up. His fingers dig into my breasts, wander across them and squeeze them, push them together, letting them fall, playing with them, staring at the rigid raspberry nipples. Then I kneel up and place my hands on his shoulders and push my tits into his eager face. I want him to nuzzle in, I want him to lick, suck, bite. Yes. I can tell he’s never seen anyone as luscious as me. A real woman. I want this to be what he’ll write home about, remember for ever. I want to smother him. He buries his face between my breasts, pressing them into his cheeks. Then he draws back. I cup one breast and offer it. I rub its taut dark nipple across his mouth. His tongue flicks out tentatively. My knees wobble and I clutch more firmly to his shoulders. My tit is angled right into his mouth.

He licks the nipple again, and his hands squeeze my breasts until they sing with delicious pain. Hands that a few minutes ago had been wrestling with a surfboard. Then his soft lips nibble up the little nub of the nipple, the tongue laps round it. He draws the burning bud into his mouth, pulling hard on it, and begins to suck. I cradle his bleached blond head, the salt water dried in granules and flecked white across his cheek bones. I could stay like this forever. His sucking makes my whole body ripple with desire.

I look away over his head, across the dunes and over the ocean, distancing myself, seeing us like a movie or a photograph, but his mouth, his teeth, keep pulling at the aching nipple and pulling me back. Electrical currents streak from my nipples to my empty, waiting cunt.

He has the other breast up by his face now. He’s turning from one to the other, lapping and sucking, snuffling through his nose to breathe, groaning, biting and kneading harder and harder as if he owns my breasts. It’s never enough to suck just one. They both have to be stimulated, and, boy, is he getting the hang of it. God, it’s going to be earth-shattering when I get him inside me.

He’s rougher, more ferocious, already more confident. I grind against him, daring him, searching for more pain to communicate more pleasure. I plant my knees on either side of his so that I’m straddling him, and still have his head crushed between my tits. I push him backwards so that, still sucking on my nipples, he’s lowered onto the sand. Now I’m on top of him, my tits dangling down like heavy fruit dented by his brown fingers. I tilt my pussy towards his groin and rub against his wet suit. The rough material is glorious, grating on my skin.

And I can feel the length of his dick. Still pushing my tits in his face, don’t ever want him to stop, I grab at the wet suit and start to roll it off him like a second skin. He raises his hips obligingly. So sweet. He does that so eagerly and readily. Does he realise how big his fucking gorgeous erection is? I yank everything down and his cock thumps free, juddering out from the rough tangle of blond curls, pulsating golden brown like the rest of him. God, it’s a work of art. Its surface is smooth like velvet, the mauve plum emerging from the soft foreskin which wrinkles back to show itself all gleaming. This gorgeous cock thumps into my hand. Now it’s my turn to fold my fingers round something, and as I do it he bites my nipple so hard that I scream out with delight. I lean over him.

‘Just take a little break. Try something new,’ I whisper, both to myself and to him. I start to wriggle back down his body so that his head follows for a moment, still attached to my nipples. Then he falls back as I slither down towards his groin and he can only grab at my wet hair. I reach his dick, standing up like a beacon. The tip is already beading in anticipation. A fresh stick of rock.

I open my mouth and draw his cock into it, using my teeth as well as my tongue, draw it all in until the boy’s knob knocks at the back of my throat.

He makes a sound, exquisitely shocked. His buttocks clench as I suck on him, nibbling down to the base of his shaft and licking and sucking the sweet length of it. He starts to buck about, groaning in amazement. I wonder if any of his pert little girlfriends give head like this. I doubt it. After all, I didn’t have much of a clue at this age. I want him to think he’s died and gone to heaven. Any minute now I’m going to heaven, too.

As I suck, I rub my tits and pussy up and down his legs. He pulls at my hair. I have to slow myself down, because we’ll both come too soon. I don’t want to waste this golden moment by coming all over his shinbone. My pussy is clenching frantically now. I’m leaving slicks of juice all over him.

I give his dick one last, long suck, pulling it towards my throat and nipping it with my teeth, then I let it slide along my tongue, out through my nipping teeth. Greedily I clamber back on top of him as he struggles up, seeking out my tits. I press him down on his back, tilting myself over him. We’ve moved some way from the towel now.

‘See how beautiful it is,’ I croon at him, showing him the length of his shaft encircled by my fingers. ‘See how well it’s going to fit.’

I smile as I raise myself on my knees and aim the tip of his cock towards the warm hole hidden in my soft bush. I let it rest there, at the opening, just like I did with the lemonade bottle, just nudging it past my wet sex lips. I wait. I smile again, lowering myself a little more, gasping as each inch goes in. I reach under him to cup his balls in one hand and he groans again.

This tension is ecstasy, but I can’t hold on to it for much longer, and slowly, luxuriously, I let the boy’s knob slide up inside, all the way to the hilt. It’s so tempting to ram it, let our hips start jerking, but once it’s right in I force myself to pull away again. He frowns, perhaps thinking I’m rejecting him, but I just ease myself down again, moaning and tossing my head back, and the next time I do that he’s with me, learning fast, pulling his own hips back, waiting when I wait.

I sigh out with the joy of being fucked by something so big and hard after months of sitting on the sidelines. As I bend over to let my tits swing across his mouth again, his eyes flip sideways and his face freezes. His hands jam onto my hips and hold me still. I don’t move. I don’t want to. But I see another shadow falling across his face.

‘Oh, piss off, guys!’ I shout, without looking round. ‘Go back to your poker game!’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it! This looks like a hell of a lot more fun than poker!’

A male voice, very similar to my boy’s, speaks from somewhere above and behind us. I go hot and cold. I try to read the boy’s expression. Then there’s the unzipping sound of another wet suit, and the boy’s eyes widen. First he shakes his head furiously, and then a filthy grin spreads across his face. Not a grin I’ve seen before. He looks at me in a different way. Kind of domineering. I’m thrown off balance. Already he’s learning. Glancing at the newcomer, the boy knocks my breasts from side to side.

‘My older brother,’ he croaks. ‘Back from the surf.’

He pulls me forwards, jamming my tits into his mouth again, and now my backside is up in the air. I want to protest but I can’t move. My butt is all exposed, bouncing in front of his brother, but so gorgeous is the feel of my boy’s almost aggressive mouth sucking on my sore nipples that I can’t stop him. As first one nipple then the other grinds into his mouth I automatically start up the rhythm again. I’m acutely aware of my new audience. It’s unutterably sexy to be watched.

I slide up and down his cock, showing off now. My muscles tighten each time to grab hold and keep him inside, and his cock is hardening even more with each thrust.

I’m just poised to ram down onto him harder than ever when my butt cheeks are pulled apart and another male body presses up against my back.

‘Can’t let you have all the fun, bruv,’ says the voice. ‘Reckon I want a go.’

‘You’ve got some catching up to do, mate. Bloody well wait your turn.’

The first boy pulls me harder down on top of him, ramming me right up inside.

‘You don’t mind me watching, do you?’ his brother murmurs in my ear, still fondling my buttocks.

‘No,’ I puff, barely able to speak. ‘Don’t mind.’

There’s something else going on here, too. I can recognize sibling rivalry when I see it, or rather sense it. It’s not that different from the ‘friendly’ rivalry between me and my mates up at the cottage. Our parlour games are never going to be the same after this.

I’m dizzy now, knowing I’m being watched. Who knows? Maybe the crowd up at the cottage will be down any minute, join the audience. See me in a whole new light. I gyrate as if dancing on the boy’s pole, flinging myself wildly about. The urge for satisfaction and the loss of control starts to overwhelm me.

The invisible brother is right behind me, touching me everywhere. I fall onto the rigid cock inside me and the orgasm is gathering. My moans are snatched into the sea air as I rock frantically. My boy can’t hold back and it’s spurting out of him and I’m bucking in my own orgasm.

‘Can’t let you corrupt my little brother and get away with it,’ the older brother says, pulling us apart. ‘Reckon you need teaching, too.’

He parts my legs, gets his own cock out. I try not to smile too greedily as we all lie on the sand while the tide encroaches up the beach and the seagulls wonder what the fuck these tourists are up to.

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