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Soaked

By: coxette



"Is that what you told them?" Courteney giggled, smiling brightly.

"Well, that and the fact that I'm not sure I'm ready to do another movie just yet." 

"Aww, why not?" She rolled over in bed to look up at him, his hair tousled, and the stubble on his chin still just as sexy as it was rough to the touch. She pressed herself to him, running her fingers down over the bare skin of his chest.

"I dunno," David thought, playing with her hair lovingly, "I guess since you started talking about having kids, I can't keep myself focused enough on work, without thinking about what I could be doing to... well, to help the process along." He smiled down at her, his thumb running along her cheekbone as she smiled back. Her hand left his chest to rest gently on top of his hand, fitting their fingers together. It wasn't usually like her to be so intimate in the morning, but something about this particular one was different. She couldn't quite place what it was, but it was certainly there.

Courteney licked her lips. "I think about it way too often."

"I highly doubt that." David looked thoroughly pleased with himself. Courteney shook her head in surrender. 

"Listen, sweetie – I'm going to go take a shower before breakfast, okay?"

"All right. I'll get myself out of bed... somehow." He snuggled himself down towards the blankets they'd rested under, and shut his eyes contentedly.

"Okay." She gave him a kiss on the chest, and he felt her slide out of bed. His eyes still shut, he listened to her open and shut the bathroom door, and he heard the shower water running... Hey lay there for a while, listening, before rolling over to get out of bed. His head hit Courteney's pillow – it smelled like her, and he inhaled it, deeply, wanting to bottle it up and use it as air freshener if he could. Smiling into the fabric, he sat up, and slipped into the bathroom with a sly smile on his face. But the smirk became a look of reverence as he saw her.

His wife, in front of him, completely naked behind the clear glass doors of the shower, was soaked from head to toe. She had her hair falling all around her in clumps, just as wet, and she had her beautiful bare back to him. But something was different than all the other times he'd walked in on her showering; this time, she was obviously not expecting him. 

When she turned around, she had her eyes closed, and one hand behind her, steadying her on the wall. She had her head tilted back, and he followed her arm to see that she had a finger pressed between her legs. He watched her in awe as she pleasured herself, biting her lip as she moaned softly. He wanted nothing more than to slip in and finish the job, but he could not bring his legs to move. He just stood there, transfixed on what was clearly a private moment Courteney had with her fantasies. His tongue darted out over his lips, and the most he could do right then was slip off his own clothes as he listened to her. He took cautious steps towards the shower, careful not to disturb her when she sounded like she was so close. Her breathing became harsh and ragged, and she distinctly muttered 'David', and clawed at the wall. David's heart overflowed with pride and affection, and he suddenly felt a burst of energy, and he opened the door and swept her into his arms with a deep, wet kiss she was sure was part of her fantasy.

But there he was, his arms around her, his hand over hers, rubbing her clit back and forth as she moaned into his mouth and contracted, still not completely aware of his three-dimensional presence. He pressed her up against the wall with another kiss, and she finally opened her eyes, realizing the hero of her dreams was also the hero of her life. She pulled her hand away from her legs, and wrapped her arms around him sweetly, not bothering to ask him what he'd come for; he'd made that perfectly clear already. 

"Baby..." David breathed, pulling her closer. The water cascaded down them as they kissed, sliding in between their wanting lips. He ran his hands down her wet body, loving how little friction they had, and how slick she felt beneath his fingertips. She let out a moan, and groped for his hair, as he reached down to hook his arm under one of her legs. Her skin slipped around, and he cautiously brought it up to his elbow, and halfway up to his shoulder as he pressed her against the corner of the wall. Courteney moaned louder than ever as she felt him probe her entrance. He pushed in, slowly and erotically, and rained kisses down on her neck and shoulder, licking down her breasts to suckle gently on one of her nipples. She gripped his hair encouragingly, and he began a slow, deep rhythm, swirling his tongue around each of them in time to his powerful thrusts. 

She knew this wasn't the safest idea, but God, did it feel great. She trailed her hands down his dampened shoulders to grip the muscles of his biceps, then ran them down his back to feel the firm muscles of his ass, clenching and unclenching with each sensational movement of his dick inside her. She rippled around him, pulling herself higher as his tongue flicked repeatedly over her dark nipples. After lapping them for what seemed forever, he brought their lips together again as he pushed up and into her harshly again and again. Courteney moaned against him, pressing her tongue passionately into his mouth. He held her close, running his fingers feather light up and down her sides, and she eventually caved, fluttering around him as he sought his release with low, deep groans and hotter, wetter kisses. He followed her not long after, her orgasm subsiding as she felt him shoot his release up and into her welcoming body. With a lustrous sigh, she slid her leg back down him and collapsed, sitting against the marble bench in their shower; David followed suit, wrapping his arms soothingly around her nude waist. She leaned her head gently against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple briefly, the sound of her breathing still shallow and impossible to catch. There they lay for several minutes, basking in the afterglow of amazing sex.

"Hey baby?" Courteney asked, quietly.

David kissed her on the shoulder affectionately, and then on the neck. "Yes, Court?"

"Is this what you came in here for?"

"Nah, I was just checking on you," David answered, honestly, "but I wasn't expecting you to be... well... to be so worked up."

Courteney smiled and feigned indifference. "What can I say?"

"That we have incredible sex?"

"Incredible barely describes it. But what else can I say?"

"That you love me?" David pled playfully. She kissed him on the nose.

"I do love you. And you love me too?"

David nodded. "And I love you, too. And we so need to shower after this shower."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear..." 

"Don't patronize me!"

"No, dear..."

Soaked



Mandy always tells me I should be in porn. Not because I'm particularly well-endowed, but because of the amount of cum that shoots out of my cock. She says I should be the stand-in for the moneyshot. 

When I cum, I cum a lot. To show you what I mean imagine having a really full bladder. Now imagine holding on as long as you can then finally going to the bathroom. Times that by about three and that should give you an idea. 

Doctors say it's a one in million thing. For some reason, I produce sperm much faster than average. Needless to say, I require relieving much more often than the average man.

You might think that being able to shoot that much cum must be great, but it isn't all fun and games. Whenever Mandy and I have sex we have to make sure there are lots of towels around, which is why we like having sex outside where we can let the grass soak it all up. Then there's the problem of finding a lover who can handle all that man juice. Lucky for me Mandy can. 

Mandy is 25, about the same age as me. She has long red hair, freckles and fair skin. Her body is slim and athletic and she keeps her pussy hair nicely trimmed. Although she has small breasts her nipples are large and stick out like thimbles when she's aroused. 

Mandy's friend Cath had fallen on hard times on account of the economy and her family had lost their home. Mandy, being the woman she is, invited Cath to live with us. Of course I had no problem with that as like Mandy I was only glad to help her friend, even to the point of offering Cath a job at my work if one came up. 

Cath is about eighteen. Like Mandy she has a hot body but her hair is brunette and she keeps it shoulder length. Her breasts are also larger, about a c-cup. 

One morning we were sitting around the kitchen table having breakfast. Cath, after swallowing down a spoonful of cornflakes asked, "So, why do you two always have so many towels in the washing machine".

Mandy paused.

"Because of the amount Rick cums" she answered. 

Then there was a moment of silence.

"I'd love to see that" said Cath. She looked at us and giggled.

"Well when Rick and me have sex tonight you can watch" Mandy said, smiling.

"Um, ok, sure". I think Cath may have been almost as surprised as me. 

That evening I laid on the towel-covered bed. The cum had built up and my cock needed desperate relieving. Of course thinking about the prospect of Cath watching me cum didn't help any. Mandy laid next to me. She was already naked. Cath sat on the side of the bed, fully clothed. 

Mandy put a hand underneath my shirt and rubbed my chest. She kissed my mouth as I unbuttoned. As things grew more intense she reached down and unzipped my pants. I felt her warm hand as it entered the front of my trousers and pulled out my stiffening cock. 

Cath watched as Mandy coaxed my dick to full erection. As she watched Mandy and me she had her blouse open and was rubbing her tits.

I closed my eyes and I felt Mandy kiss down my body to my now throbbing hard cock. She swallowed the entire length in her mouth, licking off all the glistening precum. She then moved her mouth all the way up again to head. As soon as she did my cock was already covered in more precum. 

Mandy continued to slowly fuck my cock with her mouth. I knew she didn't want me to cum, not yet anyway. She moved just fast enough to let me feel the pleasure but not hard enough to take me over the edge. 

She then stopped and straddled me. My cock was wet with precum which was just oozing out of the head.

"Watch this Cath" Mandy said. 

Mandy went down on my cock with her cunt. God her pussy felt so good. With both arms supporting her she began to ride me.

I tried to keep from cumming as much as I could. But the need got stronger as she rode me harder.

"Cum for me baby," Mandy said. 

I let out a yell and came hard. Cum shot into Mandy's cunt and then flooded out as Mandy lifted herself off my dick. My cock kept going, pumping huge wads of cum into the air. It was flying everywhere. Some landed between Mandy's tits, and some on her pussy as she grabbed my cock and tried to guide it as best she could. 

Cath was in the throes of orgasm with her hand down her jeans. 

I grabbed my cock and pointed in her direction.

"Here Cath," I said.

Streams of cum landed on her face, on her blouse and between her breasts. 

Finally my cock began to slow down until it stopped. The towels, Mandy, Cath, were all soaked in cum. 

Mandy took the towels of the bed. She grabbed some clean ones and put them on the bed underneath me. 

"See Cath? Now you know why we need so many towels". 

Even though I had only just cum a few minutes before fresh cum was already starting to well up.

"I want to see how much of his cum I can swallow" said Cath. "Is that ok?" 

Mandy nodded. I got on my knees and Cath put her mouth on my dick. My cock was already getting hard.

I began to thrust slowly, not wanting her to gag as I didn't know how much of a cocksucker she was. I needed had worried. Soon my cock was fully hard again and right down her throat. 

"He's almost there" Mandy said. 

Cath let out a muffled squeal of excitement. I thrust my cock as deep down her throat as I could and came. 

Cath's throat muscles clasped around my cock as my dick pumped load after load of cum. But try as she might she couldn't keep up. She popped my cock out her mouth and let the excess cum flow down the sides. More cum shot out of my dick, covering her face and chest. 

To my surprise Mandy then kissed Cath and they shared my cum between them. Watching them almost made me hard again. But as it was I was exhausted, even though I knew it wouldn't be long before I would start feeling the cum building in my balls.

Cath and Mandy dried themselves and I moved over so that they could lie beside me. I put my arms around both of them and we lay like that until we all fell asleep. 

In the morning I woke up. My cock was hard and the feeling of having two hot women beside me was already making the precum ooze out of the head. Lucky for me, it was Saturday morning.



Soaked Gal



My woman friend loves to give blowjobs. She really is good at what she does. For some reason, she loves to feel me loose control and shoot all the cum I can in her mouth. Holding me in her lips, she usually likes squeezing my balls as I shoot. Most times she swallows. But lately, after I cum in her mouth, she lets it drool out over her chin and on her breasts. She then rubs it all over her skin.

Lately, she's been pleasing me in semi-public areas. We live in a fairly populated area, so when it gets dark outside, she pulls me off to the side, around a corner, and while opening her top, proceeds to give me one of her great blowjobs. 

She always wears a bra when we're out and now when we're in a semi public area, she blows me until I cum in her mouth, then, lets the drool ooze out on her chest and inside her bra. After standing up and fixing her top, she tells me she can feel my cum soaking her tits and because of this, is now going to be turned on the rest of the evening.

This gave me an idea. If she gets off by just having my cum on her breasts running down into her bra, I wonder how turned on she would be with lots of men cumming in her mouth and letting her drool their goo also on her breasts and running down into her bra.

That Saturday night, she asked me what I wanted to do. I suggested we visit the adult store and take a look at what they had. She then suggested that we buy some more lube but other than that, she was willing to just visit there.

We had never been to the adult store before, so this was going to be a surprise for her. We stopped into our local bar and as I ordered a beer, I ordered her two doubles of her favorite drink. She looked at me funny as if I knew, but she didn't know, what I had planned. I did and she didn't, but she just smiled and downed her two doubles before I got my one beer down. Alcohol always did make her kind of frisky.

The parking lot to the adult store was almost filled with cars and I knew that most of the people inside were guys.

We made our way in and started looking around. I moved to the counter and paid for the lube and a twelve pack of rubbers. She started looking around with all the men in the room watching everything she did. With her short skirt, high heels and white blouse hanging down, some of the men started to move in closer. 

Grinning to myself, I stood there in the book section watching her as she started to flirt with the other men without saying a word. She smiled back to me as if to ask me to just let her play these guys along. I smiled back to her as if to say go ahead. 

Slowly, she moved from section to section in the room, looking and smiling and doing her seductive teasing. A few of the guys moved in closer and actually touched her as they passed her by. After a while, she moved in next to me and started to touch her hip to mine.

We've done this before at bars. We would go in one at a time and she would make her way over to me at the bar. Acting like we just met, we would flirt, touch, kiss, feel each other up and make our way home for some great sex.

So now she is standing next to me, touching my hip with hers and looking at the magazine I'm holding. It's a woman giving blowjobs to strangers. About four other guys now move in to where we're standing. So I ask her if she has ever visited the video arcades in the back. She said no, so I asked her if she would join me. The other guys seemed to drop their mouths as she said yes! I took her hand and led the way.

I didn't know if this place had glory holes or not but when we got inside the hallway, I noticed some signs on some of the doors that said "Glory hole" on them. 

For a Saturday night at about eight thirty, there were quite a few men moving around us. My woman pulled me close and asked me why we haven't come here before? I tell her we should have, but we'll make up for it now.

I noticed a door close to the end of the room that said "Glory hole" on it that was empty due to the green light being on above the door. If it were being used, the red light would have been on. I also notice a green light above either side of the room we were going into telling me that they too had a glory hole in them.

Walking in and locking the door, the only light on was coming from the large television screen giving us instructions on adding money and choosing the movie we wanted to see. My woman whispers to me that the room is about the size of her closet and there is only one chair here for both of us. I just smile at her and fished out a twenty-dollar bill from my pocket and fed it to the machine.

The screen came alive with a woman on her knees giving a blowjob to three guys in front of her. My woman told me that she's probably going to get all their cum. I told her to sit down on the chair, open up her blouse, and watch. When she did that I pulled out my cock and placed it to her lips. Sucking me in, she started to moan while watching the screen.

I don't think she even noticed the glory holes, but I did. Looking down to both of them, I notice eyes watching us from the other side of the holes while she sucked on me. I smiled at both of the men as they smiled back to me. I asked my woman to stand up, strip down to her shoes and bra and let me sit down.

She agreed to this as I opened my pants and took a seat. Knowing that she's going to get some cum on her tits and inside her bra, she just smiled, knelt down and started to blow me.

With her eyes closed, I looked over to each glory hole and saw each guy watching her suck my pole. Smiling again at them, I nodded in approval. They then stood up, dropped their pants and stuck their cocks thru the holes.

Both dicks were huge and were just begging to be blown. The holes were about five inches round, enough for a cock and a pair of balls to fit through. I knew this would surprise her.

"Honey, open your eyes and look at the wall on each side of me." 

This stopped her blowjob as she looked at each cock, then at me. 

"Oh my god, oh my god... are those for me?"

I told her I knew how much she wanted her boobs covered in cum, soaking her tits inside her bra, so now she can have all she wants.

Moving the chair back a bit, I leave plenty of room for her on her knees to move from cock to cock. 

Grinning one of the largest smile I've ever seen from her, she moved her hands up and grabbed each cock and started stroking them. "I've never had two cocks in my hands before. Are you sure you're ok with this?"

"Honey, I brought you here. You can have all you want."

With that, she leaned over and took the first cock slowly in her mouth. When she came back up, she moved down to his balls and sucked on them. She then moved over to the other cock and started to give him a slow and sloppy blowjob.

Moving back and forth from one cock to the other, I watched her get in to this. She's moving her hands faster now, jacking one cock off while blowing the other.

One of the guys couldn't take it anymore and we hear him telling her that he's cumming. 

Moving to his cock while jacking off the other one, she held him while he shot his cum to her mouth and face. She then cleaned his dick up, as only a happy cocksucker knows how to do.

As the guy pulled his cock back into the hole, she turned to me and while squeezing her breasts one at a time, let her mouthful of cum drool out over her lips and to her breasts to soak them inside her bra. I looked at her and just say "wow" as she pushed the last of his cum out of her mouth and over her lips.

We then hear the guy she is jacking off start moaning. She then put her mouth on his cock while she continues jacking him off. He came enough for his cum to overflow over from her lips and down to her bra. When he stopped, her tongue pushed all of his cum out of her mouth and over her lips. Like a good cum slut, she too cleaned his cock and balls up. 

Another guy came into the room next to us where the first guy was. I saw him take a peak of her cleaning up this guys cock through the glory hole and jacking me off in front of her. He then stood up, unzipped his pants and pushed his cock through. 

This guy was huge. Very long and very thick. And still growing. 

Just as she got done tongue bathing the other guy, she looked at the new cock and told me she wanted to fuck this one. I reached around, opened up the box of rubbers and handed one to her.

By now, the new cock is at least ten inches through the hole. She began blowing him and stroking it. After a few minutes, we hear another person in the other room come in and pushed his cock through. It's wasn't hard to figure out what was going to happen next. 

Pulling her mouth off this big dick, she placed the rubber on his cock, turned around and pushed her cunt over his cock. Watching her face turn from lust to amazement, she started fucking this stranger while sucking the other cock off in front of her.

My woman has never been very vocal, but with two cocks fucking her back and forth, she is moaning louder than the women on the screen. Sitting back and watching her take this is about all I can handle. I tell her this and she moved off the one cock in her lips and took me in her mouth. Sucking me harder than she ever has, I let go and give her all I have inside.

I have never seen her like this. Blowing my wad, she continued to suck, jack off and fuck three cocks at once. Lifting her chin up and pushing my cum out of her mouth, she let it too run down to her breasts and into her now cum soaked bra.

After cleaning me up with her tongue and lips, she placed her cock sucking mouth back on the one cock while continuing to fuck the other. The guy fucking her is now slamming her cunt faster and starts moaning that he's going to cum. My lust filled girlfriend pulls off of him and while jacking the other guy; she pulled the rubber off the big cock guy with one hand and starts blowing him.

Taking him in as far as she can and tasting her own pussy juice, she jacks his cock and then squeezes his balls while he erupts his cum in her mouth. Most of his shots hit inside her mouth, but the others miss their mark after his cock slips out. Feeling her cheek as his cum starts running down it seems to turn her on more as she pushes the rest of his cum out of her mouth. It runs down her throat to her breasts and bra. Milking his balls to get the last of his cum, she cleans him up too and thanks him for his cum and the fucking.

Hearing the other guy moan, she just was not quick enough to get over there in time before his cum hit her square in the face. The next spurt did make its mark inside her mouth, but she had to open wide to catch it. I sat in amazement as she finished him up and tongue bathed his cock and balls.

Looking down to her breasts, I notice that her bra was now overflowing with cum. She tried to massage the cum into the fabric, but it can only hold so much. All the goo started to overflow up and over her bra and was now dripping off the cups and onto the floor. Her hands and mouth were now as cum-soaked as her tits.

They say the eyes don't lie. Looking at her lust overcoming her, I stood up and put in another twenty-dollar bill inside the machine. She smiled at me when she realized she had a lot more time to suck, fuck and milk cum out of more of these cocks for her tits to soak in. I watched her turn me on and sucked me off for a second time. As with her actions before, she again pushed my cum out of her mouth and let it run down to her breasts inside her bra.

When the time ran out, I took the roll of paper towels in the room and we wiped the cum off her (but not her bra) and got dressed. Her white blouse was now sticking to her cum soaked bra and tits. Walking out, we made our way down the street and ducked into the darkest bar we know of and cuddled up in a booth. We both ordered a double and just smiled at each other. 

She got her wish having her tits get cum soaked. The cum was now oozing down her blouse to her pussy as she squeezed her breasts to get more cum out of her bra.

I got my wish watching my girlfriend show me her animal lust to have cum soaked breasts. 

"So," she asked me with a big grin, "what else do you have planned for me?" 



Soaked Panties



Claude was a lonely 45 year old man. He lived all by himself in a nice house in the suburbs of Phoenix. His wife had left him years ago for a man who made more money, taking his 2 sons with her. Claude was constantly depressed, constantly seeing his suburban neighbors spending time with their families, playing games, having barbeques, going to church, school. Especially his next door neighbors, the Swansens. The Swansens were seemingly a perfect family: Jake Swansen worked at a law firm and Marie Swansen owned her own pool shop. Their daughters, Katie and Becky were beautiful. Katie was a gorgeous 19 year old sandy blonde who excelled at tennis and had many friends. Becky was also popular. She was an 18 year old high school cheerleader with blonde hair and a great tan complexion. Claude would watch the successful Swansens return home from work, school, practice, and vacations, and admire how beautiful they all were.

But then Claude would have to return to his own pathetic reality. He spent most of his days drinking and looking at porn on the internet. He was so consumed by the babes he'd see on his screen, that he didn't have any motivation to go out and talk to real women. But porn made him happy.

Lately, Claude had been getting into teen porn. He had accounts at Pussy High, Sweet SexTeen, and YoungAmateurs. He loved to stroke his cock while looking at young smiling girls in skirts. He even had to get a new keyboard after he one day shot a huge load onto his keys. Young girls became Claude's obsession.

One day, after a long business trip, Claude returned to his home and as he got out of his car, he saw the Swansens on their front lawn. Becky was demonstrating a cheerleading routine to Jake, Marie, and Katie. Claude was transfixed on Becky's beautiful, tan legs, as she kicked them up in the air while shouting in a high pitched, girly voice. Suddenly he realized he was staring. He looked the other way, and walked into his house, hoping to God no one had realized what he was staring at.

It was at that moment that Claude realized where he had acquired his teenage fetish. The 19 and 18 year old Swansen girls. It all made perfect sense! Claude quickly ran into his bedroom, pulled down his pants, jacked off and shot cum all over his bed and his shirt. 

"Fuck jerking off!" Claude said to himself, "it's about time I got the real thing!"

That day, Claude made a promise to himself: no matter HOW horny he ever would get, no masturbating until he got the real thing from at least one of the Swansen girls, if not both. 

The next day Claude was in his room brushing his teeth. It was a weekend. One of the windows in his room overlooked the Swansen's backyard. He wondered over to the window with a toothbrush in his mouth, not expecting to see much going on. 

He was right. No one was outside. He turned his back and headed towards the bathroom when he heard a faint sound of a screen door shutting. He looked out his window and saw Katie.

Katie was dressed in a pair of short shorts and a halter top. Claude was excited. 

But what he saw next excited him more. Katie grabbed a lawn chair and began to pull it out and put it in the middle of the lawn, in plain view for Claude. 

"She isn't gonna lay in that chair with those clothes on, is she?"

Right after that thought, Katie pulled off her halter top, revealing a tiny, too-small bra that barely contained her big, perky tan breasts. Next, Katie unbuttoned her shorts, turned her back to Claude, and pulled them down to her ankles. She kicked off the shorts, and then tugged at her small bikini bottom, pulling a part of them out of her vagina. 

Claude's cock was about to burst already but he watched on as Katie began to rub sun tan oil all over her skin. Claude could have died looking at her glistening, partly revealed ass. He thought of masterbating then and there, but instead he cocncocted a plan. He would watch Katie the whole time she was outside, her whole tanning process. That would make him virtually insane, and then he'd have the balls to actually do something about it. 

Insane was an understatement. The next 2 hours was a sort of pleasurable hell for Claude, as he drooled over he glistening, perfect skin, her beautiful face, and he tiny swimsuit, which stuck so tightly to her skin that Claude could see the definition of her young, tight cunt through his binoculars. 

Finally, Katie went inside. Claude was awakened from his daze. He now KNEW that he HAD to fuck Katie. There was absolutely NO question. 

Claude found a shovel that he had borrowed from Jake earlier. Even though he still needed it to dig a compost hole, he decided getting another shovel would be more than worth going over to the Swansen's to return it. 

To his pleasant surprise, both the BMW that Jake drove and the Minivan that Marie drove were gone. However, the brand new Impala that Katie drove was in the driveway. Claude walked up to the door excited. 

He knocked on the door, Katie answered. She was still in her suit. Claude could not talk.

"Do you want to give that back?" Katie asked, in her sweet, young voice, pointing to the shovel.

"uh, uh, yeah!" Claude said, with a shaking tone in his voice.

"Come on in." Katie said.

Claude walked in and put the shovel in the shed in the backyard. He then walked back in, towards the front door, when Katie called to him.

"Hey Claude?" she asked.

"yes."

"Would you mind helping me with something" 

"Not at all." Claude said, breathing heavily with excitement.

"I need to take a shower, but faucets won't work. Do you think you can fix them?"

"I can try." Claude replied. 

They walked into the bathroom. 

"It just won't turn for me! It's old and I just can't do it, but you look like you have strong hands."

"Well, I'll give it a try." Claude said.

He turned the faucet with one hand, and it shot out water surprisingly easy. 

"There you go." He said to Katie. 

"Oh my gosh, thank you! I'm such a weakling!" She said.

"Hold on Claude, I have to give you something for doing this, just let me take a shower first."

Claude started to tell her it was ok, but before he could, she shut the bathroom door. Claude figured he better wait in the living room.

As he sat on the couch, Claude could have sworn he heard moaning from the shower.

About fifteen minutes later, Katie walked into the room with her tennis uniform on. Claude was astounded at how amazingly hot she looked. 

"Claude, I have a problem." She said, in a sly, devilish way.

"What is it?" Claude asked.

"Well, it's just that, I just tanned in my backyard for two hours and then I took a shower, and those two activities get me kind of..... wet."

Claude could not believe what he was hearing.

Katie continued.

"So I put on my panties, but now they are soaked in my juices, and I don't want to wear them."

Katie lifted up her skirt. Her panties were indeed moist.

"I need you to take them off for me" Katie said, with a shy grin.

Claude gulped. He walked over to her, got down on his knees, and slowly pulled Katie's extremely wet panties down.

"Now," Katie said, "you're going to fuck me."

With that, she violently pushed his head into her pussy. It was soaking, but fresh from the shower, it was irresistible. Claude began to run his tongue all over her inner thighs, as Katie silently moaned with pleasure. 

Claude continued eating her twat, getting gradually more and more aggressive. He rapidly ran his tongue over her aroused clit, and Katie screamed.

"Fuck! That feels SO good! I'm gonna cum!!!"

Claude felt Katie's warm pussy juices begin to accumulate in his mouth. It tasted so good. Claude had never felt anything like this. 

"Did you like that?" He asked.

"Oh, I loved that Claude, but were are not even near done." 

With that, Katie bent over the sofa, spread her legs far apart and said, "Don't worry. My mom's at work for 5 more hours, my dad's in San Diego, and when Becky comes home from the game, well.... just fuck me now!" 

Claude pulled down his shorts. He grabbed his extremely erect dick and slowly pushed it inside of her. He slowly began to thrust back and forth, his dick sliding in and out of Katie's young tight cunt. 

"Don't cum inside me though please, I'm not taking birth control. This is only my second time."

Claude agreed not to, and kept pumping himself in and out of Katie, getting faster and faster as Katie's girlish moans got louder and louder.

"Fuck I've gotta pull out." Claude said to her.

"Ok, don't worry, I'll suck that jizz right out of your cock for you." Katie said, reassuringly. 

Claude sat back on the couch Katie wrapped her lips around his throbbing penis. She slowly sucked and licked for awhile before she stopped and said, "You know what? I love how my pussy juice tastes on your big, hard cock." 

Claude was at this point, too turned on to reply, he just watched as Katie resumed moving her young mouth up and down his shaft. It didn't take long for Claude's dick to begin pulsating. 

"I'm cumming!" He exclaimed.

This seemed to excite Katie even more, as she wrapped her lips tightly around his cock and sucked a lot harder.

Claude blew the biggest load of hot, creamy cum that he ever had blown in his life. Katie tried to swallow it all, but there was so much that warm semen trickled down her lips and chin. She smiled at him.

Suddenly a car door shut from outside. Claude quickly tried to hide his sticky cock from whoever might be entering, but Katie just smiled, and held the remaining cum in her mouth. 

The door opened, and Becky came in in her cheerleading uniform.

She looked at Claude and his slimy dick, then at her sister, Katie, with cum dripping down her face onto her chest.

"Oh my god." She said, "You finally did it?"

Katie then walked over to her sister, and passionately tongue kissed her, letting Claude's cum ooze into Becky's mouth.

Becky barely had enough time to swallow it before Katie pushed her onto the couch and resumed passionately making out with her. As they kissed, Katie reached under Becky's short cheerleading skirt and fingered her pussy, while Claude watched. 

Katie then pulled Becky's panties down, leaving on her cheerleading skirt, and started to kiss her sister's young cunt. Becky let out muffled moans as Katie ran her tongue in and out of her wet vagina. Claude was stroking his cock and enjoying the site.

"Haven't you jacked off enough?" Katie asked

"Huh?" replied Claude.

"We know you masturbate to porn on your computer a lot, we can see you from my bedroom window."

"Oh god..." Claude was cut off.

"No, it's fun for us to watch. We've always fantasized about an older man, fucking our tight little twats."

Claude was puzzled.

"Come on!" Katie begged impatiently, do you want to fuck my sister or what?"

Claude walked over to Becky who was now on her knees. Katie was underneath her, staring up at her glistening pussy. 

Claude took a hold of his penis as Katie lifted up Becky's skirt for his entry.

He slid his cock into her. This was the tightest pussy he had ever had. 

"I'm a virgin" said Becky.

Claude was now very excited.

"You'll have to go kind of easy on her, and she's not on birth control either, so you'll have to blow your load elsewhere."

Claude pleasantly agreed and began to very slowly shove his cock into Becky's tender young body as she let out sporadic screams of pain and discomfort. This turned Claude on more. He decided to be a little more merciless. He rammed his cock into her faster and harder. Her screams became more frequent and louder.

Finally she exclaimed, "It hurts!"

"Becky, don't you know that it HAS to hurt for the first time?" Katie said, as she began to lick Claude's cock as it ran in and out of her sister's pussy.

Claude resumed his hard fucking. Becky shrieked and moaned incredibly loudly from the pain of accommodating Claude's penis inside her. Claude stared at her smooth, perfect ass which protruded from her lifted up cheerleading skirt and began to get very turned on.

Claude realized he wasn't being creative enough in this orgy, Katie had been telling everyone what to do.

"I'm gonna stick it in your butt now, ok Becky?"

Claude proposed.

"My butt how can it fit?"

"Trust me I've done it before."

Claude removed his cock. It was very well lubricated from the young girl's fresh pussy.

He licked Becky's sweaty ass, to get it ready for his thick cock, which would soon be inside of it.

Katie now had Becky's pussy all to herself, and was giving her sister head like nobody's business. 

Claude slowly penetrated Becky's tight ass. It was very difficult, but he finally got it in. Becky screamed. 

"Fuck! Your dick is huge."

Claude began pumping his dick into her young ass. He was loving every second of it. He looked down at Katie, who's chin was wet with juices. His cock got a little thicker and he fucked Becky's ass a little harder.

By this point Becky was screaming in pain. That sound, along with Katie's intense slurps were taking Claude to new heights of sexual pleasure. As he took in the sounds, and looked at his dick, inches deep in a young cheerleader's ass, with her sexy sister eating her pussy below him, he could have sworn he was in heaven. His dick shook and pulsated.

"I'm cumming!" Claude announced. 

He experienced complete and utter ecstasy as huge wads of piping hot sperm flooded Becky's young ass. Claude's eyes rolled back in his head. Cum dripped from Becky's ass, down her pussy, and onto her sister's face, while she kept on eating her pussy. Claude was still pumping semen into Becky's ass. This was TWICE as much as he had let flow into Katie's mouth earlier. 

Finally, it stopped. With a wet oozing sound, Claude removed his slimy cock from Becky's ass. 

He lay down on the floor and looked at his dick.

"We'll have to get your mother in on this sometime."



Soaked To the Skin Pt. 01



Hannah was soaked, completely soaked. The downpour unexpected: the result inevitable. She had looked wonderful, all poise and fashion; but now, merely a passable impression of a drowned rat. Her long fair hair hung in clumps; her short skirt dripped water down her strong bare legs and right into her long black boots zipped to the knee; her blouse a damp rag with her frilly bra no better beneath and, she knew, her areolae would be visible through the sodden cotton; even her nipples had shown their disapproval by rising to poke at the material from the coldness of her inundation.

Hannah had run, raced as fast as her legs would carry her to the railway station but she had been caught good and proper, right at the half way point between home and station. The sky had been grey but not threatening when she had closed the door at home but that had all changed with the first few large drops. She had not even brought an umbrella and when the rain and then the downpour had followed she had taken to her heels, but to no avail; she had reached the station, certainly achieved that object, but not in a fit state to be seen and, horror of horrors, she was going to London to meet influential people; people she hoped would take her on as an intern. She simply could not go like that... but what option was there?

Returning home would be such a defeat; she would miss the train; miss the interview and that was what her mother wanted. Her mother did not want her to go to London; did not want her to flee the nest; would be so happy if she simply came home with her tail between her legs to spend more time working at the local pub and living at home. Hannah was not going to do that... but she was soaked through and cold.

The rain hissed down outside the meagre shelter of the old Victorian station canopy. In reality the rain was only mostly outside, because it leaked in quite a few places. There was not even a waiting room with a nice warm cheery stove, or electric heater more likely these days; Hannah could see where a waiting room had been - but it was all boarded up. She shivered and thought things could not get much worse - unless her train was cancelled - it was so different from the excitement of the 'big day' that had woken her early that morning.

Through the rain she saw another traveller making his way towards the station, his black umbrella sent suddenly inside out by the gusting wind and affording him little or no protection from the driving rain. As he neared she could see he was almost as soaked as she was; his trouser legs flapping wetly at his ankles and his silk tie a discoloured mess. She opened her mouth to say something sympathetic when the Tannoy crackled with an announcement not that the train had actually been cancelled but had been delayed by floods - for at least an hour and a half.

"Fuck," she ejaculated causing the man's eyebrows to rise. "Sorry, I mean... bloody rain and now the soddin' train's been delayed." The rephrasing was not much better.

"Beastly weather. Yes." The man shook his umbrella and folded it. "Is there a warm waiting room do you think?"

"No. Boarded up. Nuthin' like that."

Another figure was making his way up the platform the other way dressed in bright orange work clothes; work clothes proof against all weathers. They watched him.

The new arrival looked them up and down. "Got caught then?" It was rhetorical. "There's our hut just beyond the station. You shouldn't trespass really but we won't be back from our job for another few hours and its warm in there and you can dry a bit. The lads won't mind if you borrow the tea and milk. Be sparing on the digestives mind!" He smiled, pointed back down the platform and headed off leaving them standing wet and bedraggled.

"Shall we?" asked the man.

The word 'warm' spoken by the railway employee was an attractive one and Hannah found herself stepping down off the end of the platform onto a cindered track leading to a small sectional concrete building. It was indeed warm inside, not from a glowing coke stove but an electric radiator screwed to one side of the hut. Various chairs and benches were set about the wall and at one end a table with an electric kettle, plentiful copies of 'The Sun' and not a few colour magazines that were not the sort girls chose to read. In short it was a workman's hut of the most traditional sort which in their day must have numbered in their hundreds, if not thousands, around the country in yards, factories and railways.

Hannah stood dripping on the lino.

The man spoke, "I'll make some tea. What a kind chap. I really thought we were stuck there for, what did the announcement say, at least an hour and a half. Cosy."

It was, but it did not make her any less damp or, more accurately, wringing wet; it did not make the fact of her semi-transparent blouse and bra any less obvious. She had not caught him looking but he must have noticed. Men look at breasts.

"To where are you travelling?" He was making conversation as he made the tea and she was happy to unburden her unhappiness at both the rain ruining her clothes and the inevitable lateness of her unimpressive arrival.

The man made sympathetic noises.

It felt awful sitting in what was basically a puddle on her plastic chair. The room was warm but her clothes were soaked. If she looked she knew the plastic seat would not just be damp but would really have a puddle of water in it. The water was still dripping off her hair, still running down her legs from her wet skirt and, most uncomfortably, her wet panties. She looked longingly at the white radiator. If only she could hang her clothes on it to dry, if only she had been alone she could have done just that but she could hardly do that with a man in the hut. She could hardly strip down to her sodden underclothing - sodden semi-transparent underclothing - with him there.

The man, though, hung his jacket above the radiator and loosening his tie, hung that over the radiator. There was nothing she could take off except perhaps her boots without revealing more than her wet blouse already did. She unzipped them and took them across to the radiator. As she padded back to her seat she left wet footprints on the lino.

It was good to have a mug of hot tea in her hands but the sheer awfulness of what had happened to her day held her; her gaze returned to the radiator; the lovely hot radiator; it and a comb could be her friends and restore, somewhat, the image she had so carefully cultivated and been so pleased with in the mirror less than half an hour before. But there was embarrassment and risk in this. Could she really strip down to her underclothes with this man watching - as surely he would do, and might he seek to take advantage - more than advantage - in having her all alone in this railwayman's hut? Hannah knew nothing about him - but he did seem very pleasant and safe. Appearances, though, could be deceptive but his suit was well cut - did that mean anything - and it was not as if he was young; perhaps mid sixties, tall with a slight stoop, but not going to seed, grey hair and rather amusing half rimmed glasses.

Hannah looked wistfully at the radiator, at the man's tie almost seeming to steam away. "I wonder," she said, "do you think my, um, clothes would dry on that radiator?" She had said it, she had really said it. It was more to open the possibility to herself than a real question. Of course a hot radiator would dry clothes.

The man got up and walked across to the radiator and put his hand on it. "Like toast," he said, "it is very hot. You'd certainly be better getting properly dry."

It was one thing for her to suggest the idea: quite another for him to encourage her. What he said was true but when you got down to the basic point he was inviting her to take her clothes off. Hannah sat still for several minutes as the man took a newspaper from his briefcase and began to read. It was only slightly damp at the edges.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and felt her clothes. Really they were no better but she could at least feel her legs getting dry; dry anyway where the occasional rivulet of water did not run off her skirt and make them wet again. Perhaps she would risk her skirt. After all her blouse would mostly hide her panties. Quietly, so as not to disturb him she stood up and unbuttoned the side of her skirt. She had taken the step.

Without even looking at the man she slipped the skirt down to the floor and bent to pick them up. It was only when she was fully bent over did it occur to her that if the man was looking then her bottom cheeks would be almost visible through her clinging wet panties. Straightening she resisted the urge to see if he had, indeed, been looking and went over to the radiator and hung her skirt over its hot metal. Turning, she saw he actually appeared engrossed in his paper. 

Feeling self conscious and not a little odd Hannah made her way back to her plastic seat. Sitting back down, the wet puddle was even more noticeable. There was no way she was going to dry by sitting on a wet seat. She moved to the adjacent seat opposite the man; he looked up briefly and nodded, "Good idea" and went back to his newspaper. Never had her knees been more tightly pressed together.

Hannah glanced at the magazines on the table. Smiling women with big naked boobs looked back at her. Naked women who were warm and dry.

Her blouse felt awful and she looked again at the radiator and thought how good it would be to see it steaming there and getting all toasty dry. Already the smell of warm but damp wool was in the hut; her skirt had started to dry - or at least warm up. She bit her lip. What was more important - her modesty or the internship? She began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

It felt far, far worse turning from the radiator with no blouse compared to being without her skirt. She felt nearly naked in just her little new white lacy bra and white panties. White they were meant to be but soaked with rainwater they had a pink tinge from the skin showing beneath and, worse, she could see the moulding, the very camel toe moulding, of her mons where the panties clung to her. If only she hadn't shaved and there was her curly golden hair to hold the cotton safely away but she had shaved it all off, thinking how modern it looked in the mirror, and there was nothing holding the thin material back - even that half modesty of her golden curls keeping cotton from skin - denied her.

The man looked up, just as she turned from the radiator, just when she was most exposed. "Sensible," he said and went back to his newspaper.

Had he noticed, had he seen through her panties?

Hannah watched the drying clothes. Would it really matter if her underclothes joined the rest? The idea of putting on warm dry panties instead of the wringing wet pair that felt so cold and clammy around her 'bits' was most attractive. Of course it mattered. One thing to be drying outer clothes and sitting there in her knickers and bra but quite another to be naked in the hut with the man.

But did she dare: should she? What would he say, what would he do? Would it just be a short 'sensible?' He seemed so gentlemanly, so safe.

She stood and did one of the bravest things she had ever done. Outwardly nonchalant she walked over to the radiator and unclipped her bra. Just as if she was in her bedroom at home, not in a workman's hut with a man, she pulled it off and hung it over the radiator. Thinking 'home' she slipped her panties down. Was he looking, admiring the sudden appearance of her bottom, perhaps more as she raised one leg and then the other before bending to pick up the panties and lay them on the heat of the radiator. She turned.

"Well done," said the man, "you'll feel so much better on the train and at the interview. I didn't want to suggest it, of course, but it is so much the right course of action. You've got to look your best."

Reassuring, but he was looking right at her and she was completely naked. Her panties and bra were draped across the radiator behind her; she was wearing nothing at all and he could see, well, everything. There was not even a hint of furze covering her sex - it would have felt so much better had she not shaved it all off. And what did he mean by 'your best?' Was 'her best' as she was now - was that what he meant?

Hannah sat back down on her chair keeping her legs tightly together. Would he wank off later that night to his recollection of her in the hut? She could not imagine that he would not even at his age. Was the idea of this stranger wanking and thinking about her almost an assault?

His putting down of the paper alarmed her, and she became even more worried when he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I think you have quite the right idea and, if you don't object, I'll do the same."

Oh no! Not the same. Was he really going to take all his clothes off? The strangeness of it all came to her. Not even an hour from home and she was going to be sitting naked in a railwayman's hut with a naked man she did not know - it would never have occurred to her such a thing could happen.

His touching and moving her underclothes to give room for his shirt unsettled her again. Had it been deliberate, an excuse to touch her little white things or simply a necessary moving along to make space?

In the event he stopped short at his green striped boxers and, nodding to her, he settled down again with a different newspaper.

"Do you think there is a toilet?" She asked. The cold and the tea had had its effect.

"Doubt it. I expect the men just pop around the back of the hut. It's what I would do. A lavatory is unlikely."

Zipping on her boots she peered out of the door into the still falling rain and could see no one. It was a bit of a brave thing to do. She stepped through the door.

It was unbelievable; there she was outside, in the open, in broad daylight dressed in just her boots - absolutely nothing else. Imagine if the door stuck on her return!

It had not stopped raining and there was no one around; certainly not just behind the hut where she squatted and watched the hissing stream of her pee disappear into the granite chippings. Again she peered around the corner of the hut to check the coast was clear but the platform was deserted as she hurried back into the hut - to a shock.

No, the man was not standing there completely naked, waiting with an erection pointing at her: no, not that at all, for he was still seated and quietly reading his newspaper not even looking up at her return but there, unmistakeably there, on the radiator were his boxer shorts. He had taken the opportunity to remove them and set them drying whilst she was out. Perhaps to save him, or herself, embarrassment. Even so, the undeniable fact was that they were now both naked. Hannah Hall was naked in a hut, a warm hut, with a naked man reading a newspaper.

She walked over to the radiator and bent a little at the waist to feel her clothes: they were warm but nowhere near dry, indeed her blouse was still dripping. All the time she was so conscious that behind her was this naked man, a man she had not met before; oh yes, he seemed pleasant enough, practical and sensible; but was he actually staring at her bottom at that very moment and thinking all sorts of things - things men think. Under cover of his newspaper was his cock rising to an erection? Bent slightly forward, as she was, and touching her clothes like that might he now be sneaking across the room and the first she would know of it would be his hard penis pressed between her bottom cheeks? Her imagination was starting to run riot.

Hannah turned quickly but he was not looking at her: much less creeping up behind her with sexual intent. He turned a page of his newspaper and looked up.

"In Germany nudism is almost a national pastime. Freikörperkultur is the German name or Free Body Culture if you prefer. It suggests a naturistic approach to sports and community living. You see it's a movement dating back to the nineteenth century." He paused, "I'm not boring you?"

She shook her head. He smiled.

"Well, it shares the joy of experiencing nature both in being outside in the countryside and in being nude oneself, without any direct connection to sexuality. Really we should be out in the rain, perhaps running and dancing free, feeling the water falling and dripping off our skin." He smiled. "Not really the day for it, I suppose?"

It was not the most obvious of conversations to reply to: or perhaps it was the most obvious given their present predicament. "No," she said. She tried to be a bit jollier, a little more loquacious. "S'pose better on a hot and sunny day."

But as soon as she had said it she regretted it. What was she implying, that she would not object to walking with him naked on a hot sunny day in the countryside? Running naked hand in hand over the downs? Dancing naked in the woods?

"Have you?" He seemed interested and happy to talk.

It came to her that she had not taken her boots off. What was and was not sexy, erotic perhaps, was a personal thing but it was true that nakedness per se was not as erotic as some partial clothing of the body. Suggestion and a little hiding added spice. The wisp of silk just covering a vital part or the little accessory adding a je ne se qua. The girl with the velvet choker or stockings, the man, perhaps a little laughable, in the black bow tie: but what was undoubtedly a sexual image was a naked girl dressed just in long black boots. She glanced down and quickly took them off. She did not want to encourage him; did not want to unwittingly arouse his interest. She needed to be asexual. She didn't actually feel it.

"I, well, no." It had not occurred to her; the idea had never come to her; why would it?

"But would you like to?"

What was he suggesting - or was he suggesting anything. Was he simply making conversation?

"Dunno," that was not quite what she had meant to say. She had meant to say 'no.' "Depends, I suppose, but I think I'd be happier clothed."

"Not free body culture, then?"

"No, not for me." She said it quickly and with a smile. Should she ask him whether he engaged in naturism or should she try to let the topic drop. Not perhaps so easy given they seemed to be engaged in Freikörperkultur at that moment.

There was silence for a time as the man read his newspaper. She looked again at the table wondering if there was anything she could read. She was not going to touch 'The Sun' on principle: firstly she did not approve of the topless women on page 3 and secondly it was hardly what you would call a newspaper. If only there was a copy of 'The Guardian' or another serious paper like the man's 'The Times.' Might there be an interesting article in one of the girlie magazines? Unlikely, just lots and lots of boobs... and other bits.

The man was engrossed and she risked standing up to look at the 'literature.' The strangeness of standing naked in the workmen's hut leafing through their magazines came strongly to her. Wouldn't they be surprised if they knew that instead of all their pictures of naked girls in their hut, and there were quite a few on the walls as well, there had been a real live naked girl in their hut drinking their tea?

"More tea do you think?"

Hannah had not heard him, had not seen him rise and there he was standing right by her, feet from her, moreover his naked penis inches from her. Without thinking, automatically, her eyes dropped downwards to check and as soon as she had done it she reddened in embarrassment. There was no way the man had not seen what she had done, known exactly what she had been looking at. Would he see it as an invitation? With him sitting before she had not actually seen it as it had dropped down between his thighs, safely and pleasingly out of sight. All she had seen was the curliness of his pubic hair below his stomach, the peppered - black and white - hairs rising up his stomach to his chest. She had not seen his penis before. But now, there it was, hanging not two feet from her, the package complete and, quite unlike her, he was not shaved down there at all.




Soaked To the Skin Pt. 01



"Err, I, yes that would be nice."

It was awful. Even with the embarrassment her eyes kept being drawn to it - to his cock. It was not as if it was erect or anything like it. What could - or should - she have done had it been? Grabbed it and tried to make it come before he did anything to her? But there was not the slightest indication of arousal. It just hung down and swung - and that was the problem - it did not keep still. As the man moved about filling the kettle, washing out the mugs and filling the teapot it swung with his movements; and not just the penis - evidently he had got warm in the hut and his scrotum had slackened so his balls, and she could not miss their egg shapes, swung with his penis in their wrinkled, rather hairy sack. Her eyes kept catching the movement and looking at it.

The tea was made.

"I think, whilst it is brewing I shall do the same as you and nip around the back. Back in a jiffy."

Briefly the door was open letting in a cold draught and then it shut leaving Hannah alone for a moment or two. She breathed out slowly. What a predicament. Stuck with wet clothes, naked in a workman's hut, naked with a gentleman, waiting for a train which would not get her to the interview on time. She felt her clothes and re-arranged them. She had hoped her panties would be dry - they were not. It would have been so good to have been able at least to put them on. She turned them over on the radiator and managed to knock the man's green striped boxers onto the floor. Why had he chosen of all places to put them next to her panties? Bending she reached for them. The cotton was still very wet.

Just as her hand closed on the cotton the door behind her opened. "Noooo!" she thought as she jerked her body upright, but knowing it was too late, and whirled around. At least it was not the workmen returning but even so the man would have seen, would have been presented with the sight, as he opened the door, not simply of her naked behind but, bent over as she was, the sight of her exposed sex and probably even her bottom hole - all illuminated by the daylight coming in behind him from the doorway. "Fuck," she thought, "he's seen everything now."

Certainly he looked surprised and then she realised she had his boxer shorts in one hand.

"I knocked them off... by mistake... I'll put them back." It did not come out well. But at least she had not, in her confusion, asked him whether he had had 'a good leak.'

"It's still raining hard and freezing. Wet again! But isn't it so cosy in here. Warm as toast."

Certainly the man was covered in rain drops and his scrotum had drawn up. She was cross with herself for noticing the detail.

"I should have taken my umbrella."

The image was amusing and she laughed. His eyebrow rose.

"You standing there in the rain with nothing on, an umbrella in one hand and ..." She realised what she had been about to say.

"Not your everyday sight, I agree, but an umbrella would have been very practical! Do take it if you need to go out again."

Such a strange casual conversation about micturition and umbrellas between two naked people of the opposite sex.

He busied himself pouring the tea and Hannah watched the fresh rain drops running down his back and between his bottom cheeks - that would be annoying. If only she had a towel but what was she thinking of - what would he think if she was suddenly drying his back and bottom?

It was good to be sitting down again, the two of them separately, with mugs of tea. Somehow it seemed less sexual, more ordinary like that; the safety of a mug of tea in their laps but best not spilt!

There was a strong gust of wind thrusting the rain hard against the concrete walls of the hut and all of a sudden the door to the hut banged open. Hannah almost had a heart attack as she expected a troop of day-glo orange clad workmen to come trooping in. But it was only the wind. The man got up and shut the door; shutting out the rain, the cold wind and the prospect of company.

Her breasts were rising and falling as her heart raced and she breathed again. "Oh, I thought... for an awful moment I thought the workmen had come back and would see me like this."

"Would that matter? Perhaps they are also enthusiasts of the Freikörperkultur like us." He was smiling. He did not really mean it. "Then we would all be sitting around drinking tea and eating chocolate digestives as warm as toast in the all together." 

"I wouldn't feel at all comfortable."

"You and six or seven naked men? Of course in Germany or Austria the naked sauna is not uncommon. Men and women, strangers to each other, sitting naked. It seems odd to us English people but not to them."

"I'd be worried they would want to do... things."

Immediately she had said that she regretted it. Why did she keep saying the wrong things? It was she who had first made the allusion to sex.

"No, that doesn't happen. The automatic association of nudity and sex is very Anglo-Saxon. It is all so very innocent... like us."

"Well, yes."

"Just because we two happen to be sitting naked in this hut does not mean we automatically develop sexual feelings. We are not simply animals, 'mere beasts' as Shakespeare said. Mere nudity does not automatically result in the urge to rut."

"No, of course not."

I mean there has to be attraction and I might not find you attractive and I could not imagine you would find me attractive... in a sexual sense as opposed to being a pleasant sort of gentleman to talk to, of course!"

She laughed. "No indeed." He was indeed entertaining.

"In Germany nudity is so much less a concern, rather it seems a national passion, whether it is sunbathing in the Tiergarten in Berlin or sitting in the often mixed sauna."

"Mixed sauna?"

"Yes, very often mixed; even mixed changing rooms but not the swimming pool. Costumes are worn there. There is a whole etiquette around the sauna and when you do or not go covered up. Two towels for the sauna: one to sit on and one to dry with from the shower. You enter the sauna naked and sit on your towel; even your feet go on the towel so the oils from your body, apparently, do not damage the wood of the benches; and there you sit enjoying the heat with perhaps dozens of naked Germans of both sexes around you."

"I don't know that I could..."

"Little different from now really - just probably many more men around."

"You've been?"

"Many times. So pleasant to sit quietly in the sauna - you don't talk - it really is a place for contemplation. All taken very seriously by the Germans particularly when the Bademeister does the infusion, the Aufgas, pouring scented water on the coals. A ritual really. There is often a rush of people in before the Badameister enters, often naked himself, to pour the water and then waft the scent, it may be all sorts of different scents, around the sauna with a towel. Polite applause afterwards. You should try it."

"Oh, I don't know. I'd be embarrassed, all those naked men, all those..." She left the word unsaid - she had almost said 'penises.' She did not want to draw attention to sexual 'bits.' Better to stick to nudity in the generality.

"Those magazines," she indicated them strewn across the Formica of the table, "do men really like them?"

"Ah, well that crosses the divide between naturism, mere nudity, and the possibly erotic. Despite what I have said about nakedness being unremarkable, ordinary and not something to get all worked up about: it is of course something men, and women, do get worked up about. Men do find pictures of naked women erotic, particularly if the pose is suggestive - or, of course, downright pornographic. Do you like pictures of naked men? There are such magazines and not just for the gay at heart."

She should not have asked. She had tipped the conversation from nudity to sex.

"I suppose..." What could she say? 'No' would be the easiest thing to say but it was simply not true. It was not as if she bought those sort of magazines but... "Yes, a good looking bloke is a good looking bloke naked as well as clothed." She had said nothing really.

The man smiled and nodded. It was evident he expected more. "Yes, but your attitude is different from men no doubt. Men are more visual I suspect, more inclined to find pictures stimulating."

"Oh, I don't know. I could be turned on by a picture of a good looking man." Had she said a little too much?

"But not enough to buy the magazines?"

"No," she laughed, "certainly not. I remember finding my younger brother's stash once and being quite shocked. But as you say boys will be boys and like to look at them and..." She was doing it again - saying what she shouldn't.

"Wank." He finished for her.

"Quite. Of course it's not as if..." She was doing it again. Implying that she had masturbated. What was she doing talking of such things to a stranger and a man, a naked man as well?

"Girls are no doubt more cerebral - I mean I would not know - all in the mind I suppose rather than looking at pictures." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "The mind being the real sexual organ, of course, and not something on display with Freikörperkultur. Your body may be on display, your genitalia on display, but one keeps ones fantasises to oneself."

What he said was clearly true, even with pictures it was the mind that was aroused, or not, by them. "Yes, I suppose you are right. I think women are less interested in the visual - pictures as you say or seeing naked men in the flesh - and more interested by what is said and in touching." The conversation was getting deep and going where she did not want to go.

"Ah, love and the tactile."

"Yes, I think it is more about being in a relationship than simply sex for its own sake." A thought came to her and she said it without thinking. "And you are wrong about the mind not being on display. I mean, particularly with men you can often enough see if they are thinking about sex - and with naked men, well, it's very clear!"

Crikey. What had she done? She was talking about erections.

"Ah yes. Point taken - a very clear barometer."

Had she imagined it or had his penis got a little bigger? It was still resting on his right thigh. Not that she was particularly looking but she could not help seeing it when she talked to him.

Hannah needed to keep the conversation off sex. She needed to change the subject. "That must be a problem with Freikörperkultur or at naturist camps."

"Yes, on occasion, the done thing is to ignore the natural phenomenon and expect it to go away."

"Well, something for the more visual girls anyway!" What a stupid thing to say.

"Yes, indeed, but not you."

"Depends on the bloke. I did not say..."

"Ah ha!" He smiled. "So not totally cerebral then. You could give a more than cursory glance at a picture of the right naked bloke with an erection?"

What had she led him to? "Maybe."

"And what of the pornographic film? Films of intercourse and so on? No, no I pry too deeply. Let us change the subject. What are your hobbies may I ask?"

Hannah was relieved. The conversation had been going into quite inappropriate areas - not that it had been anything but a proper discussion.

"I ride, I'm a keen horsewoman."

"Gymkhanas, shows, hunting. That sort of thing?"

"Yeah, all of that. Since I was a li'l girl. I've always been around horses. Yeah the mucking out, plaiting the mane - all the girl things but unlike a lot of my friends I haven't lost the passion. I love riding. Of course, you know, horses can be just as embarrassing as people. I mean when a stallion gets a stiffy you know about it!" Why had she said that? She was drawing the conversation back: not he.

"Oh yes, big lads!"

She coloured. But it was her who had mentioned the size of erections. She could not be sure but had his penis just lifted a little off his thigh?

"So does size matter?"

This was ridiculous. She was discussing penile size with a stranger, naked and alone in a hut and, if she was not careful, there was going to be an erection in the room with them. "Does to men I believe: I think the correct, and polite, comment is to say it is not the size but what you do with it that matters!"

It was a good response but... And his penis had moved, her eyes had followed it as it had got up from one thigh and swung across to the other. It was not erect but not as 'soft' as it had been.

"Ha! Yes, back to your 'tactile' point. Yes, indeed. So, no importance on size?"

"Well visually; it's got to be more impressive the bigger it is. I don't think I can deny that!"

"An unusual contest"

"What, judging a row of naked men on the size of their erections!"

"Yes, I am intrigued, would you enjoy wielding the tape measure?"

She gaped. What a question to ask!

"What, points for length, girth and overall appearance?"

His eyes twinkled again. He was clearly amused. "And perhaps for angle of stand as well." His penis was not simply lying down and was definitely looking fatter.

She laughed. It was an amusing idea. "And sustainability - knowing men." Oh no, she had revealed sexual experience as well.

"Well, perhaps enough of that conversation. More tea?"

"Please."

He got up to make more tea. Hannah's eyes dropped to his penis. It was not above the horizontal so was it really technically an erection? But there certainly was a lot more than there had been.

It was funny seeing a man walking around doing normal things with almost an erection. He seemed unconcerned but he saw where her eyes were looking. Hannah reddened. She needed to explain herself.

"They don't stay still do they? Must be so odd having something like that hanging around." Why had she said that?

"Sorry about this," he waved in the general direction of his penis. The man filled the kettle and walked back with his penis showing no sign of getting any smaller. In fact, and Hannah could not stop watching it, the thing was getting near to the horizontal.

"Not a problem you ladies have except, perhaps, if you don't mind me mentioning it, for nipples which too can have a life of their own. Both respond to temperature, hiding away when it is cold and, of course, both respond to various other stimulae. The penis, as you say, does seem to change its shape or size a lot during the day - and that is ignoring full tumescence. It was a problem in the past for the ladies' equivalent of lads' magazines - but with naked men of course - as to what was or what was not an erection. Was the naked man simply warm and well endowered or was that an erection? The publishers could not show erections but..."

"I could suggest my, how can I put it - change of shape - was a need to go around the back of the hut again but, alas that would not be true. The rather stupid discussion I started had an effect; you see I have a thing about horse riding women. Had you not mentioned that and my subconscious not pictured you on a horse I would have been quite all right! Still let's pretend it's not really there and, as we said about Freikörperkultur, just ignore it and it will hopefully go away."

It did not however go away. On the contrary it got bigger as the foreskin rolled fully back all on its own exposing the shiny purple head. There was something about the retraction which seemed dangerously sexual. Hannah told herself not to look: but it was difficult as its motion drew the eye and the way the foreskin peeled back all of itself had such a strong erotic imagery.

"Oh dear," said the man, "the ancient Greeks would not have approved at all."

It was a penis that would not disgrace the man in the contest they had been discussing earlier. It was now at full stand. There was no way Hannah could pretend it was not an erection. She was indeed in a workman's hut by the railway with a naked man sporting a full erection - and, incidentally, making her a mug of tea. 

Why would the ancient Greeks not have approved? He was standing in profile looking at the kettle, the head of his penis almost touching his stomach. Not only was the penis large but it would score highly in the 'angle' category. Hannah swallowed. What was she thinking and why were her nipples getting a little less flat? Surely she was not too responding to the stupid talk about erections and sex? Surely he would not notice her own little erections? She had to say something.

"What do you mean?" 

He turned to her. His penis was pointing in her direction - all hard with its shiny bulbous purple head so prominent.

"Ah, you see the Greeks did not regard the naked body as something to be ashamed of or to be hidden as a matter of modesty. Yes a bit like the Freikörperkultur. Far from it, indeed their athletes ran and wrestled naked. That said what they did regard as I suppose obscene was a man's glans, the bell end under the foreskin. Athletes used to tie a string or leather thong around the foreskin to stop it retracting and embarrassing them - the kynodesme. It kept that all hidden away. I am sorry but I am anything but hidden away!"

The man poured the water from the kettle. So strange to see a man doing this ordinary act with a full blown erection. It was not subsiding.

He walked towards her carrying the mug of tea. It was the most bizarre thing; a naked man with a really big erection bringing her a mug of tea in a workman's hut. It was not as if it was in her face; sitting down it was a little below that; though probably the head was level with her chin, but it was close and her eyes flicked from it to the proffered mug of tea and back again. It was there in all its detail - up close and personal. She took the tea. Had she been inclined she could, with very little movement, have engulfed the thing with her mouth and fellated it as she played with his hanging testicles. The whole thing was ridiculous but she had been almost tempted. It certainly was a very attractive penis and she felt not a little turned on.

"Thank you."

"I'm really sorry about this."

Was he?

"I think I'll go outside and see if walking around a bit has the cold shower effect."

"Should you? I mean, don't be seen like that. Should I come with you? No, I don't suppose that will be much help at all."

"A kind offer, but no point in you getting cold yourself."

The door opened and closed. She was alone. Quickly Hannah put the tea down and went over to her clothes but her hope that they were now dry was dashed just as quickly. It was worth rearranging them and turning them over. Perhaps her blouse would not look too crumpled when it was dry. Slowly she walked back to her seat. What was she doing in this hut with this man? Had she been told that very morning she would be sitting naked in a workman's hut with a naked, erect stranger and feeling aroused herself she would not for one moment have believed it. She was after all meant to be on the train to London. Her hand stole to her breasts - yes her nipples were hard like peas. She opened her thighs and dropped the other hand to touch - yes she was wet alright and the touch of her fingers on her clit made her bite her lip. Had she been alone then...? 

And suddenly she was not alone; the door opened again and the man came back in dripping with rain to see her sitting there with one hand to her breast and the other very obviously touching her sex.

His erection had subsided somewhat but as she sat there like a rabbit caught in the headlights she could see it start to pump up again.

The man frowned, "Not you as well!"

What could she say? He could see her hard nipples as well as she could see his erection. Her legs clamped shut but he had seen where her hand was and, more than likely in the fluorescent light, seen the wet sheen of her aroused sex.

He sat back down on his bench. His erection as strong as before.

"Still raining, still horrible out there. Nobody around."

"You didn't walk up to the station?" She could not imagine he had - like that.




Soaked To the Skin Pt. 01



"What like this? No, I hung around the hut. It would have been nice on a sunny day. I thought it was working but then I came back into the hut and..."

"Sorry."

"No, don't be."

"Perhaps, after all, seeing such a large erection..."

"Oh, a compliment, thank you."

"Well, it is." 

"I haven't a tape measure."

They laughed. It eased the situation.

"I truly am sorry, I thought the rain... you see I've always had a problem with erections. Once I am 'up' I tend to stay that way until... well... until."

"Good for the ladies. No erectile dysfunction or going soft on them then?" She was at it again but she didn't care.

"No, not that."

"The magazines are there. Why don't you?"

"I couldn't. No!"

"I could look away."

"No, really it'll go down of its own accord. I'd be embarrassed."

But it didn't and she could not stop looking at it.

"If I joined you..." What was she doing? "You know if I did it here and you did it there. We wouldn't need the magazines."

The man looked at her quizzically. "You are suggesting that we each sit here and masturbate watching each other; effectively to save my own embarrassment at having this stubborn erection?"

"I sort of thought it might help." She could not really be suggesting this.

"It's a bit more than Freikörperkultur. People don't do that in the saunas."

"It must happen somewhere."

"Well, of course there are saunas and saunas; and with those men do go there for, how shall I put it, relief. But it would cause great consternation in a normal sauna. Nakedness does not equal sex. But I suppose you could imagine a country might have a rule about no copulation, no touching but bringing yourself off just by looking at others might be regarded as natural and acceptable. A group of young girls out with their friends watching the boys and the boys watching the girls. A bit much, perhaps, for the solitary girl in the sauna alone with all those men wanking away around her!"

"Oh, I don't know. She'd have lots to see after all!"

Despite what she had suggested the conversation was easy and amusing; moreover his suggestion of being alone in a sauna of erect men had excited her further.

"You mentioned the Kyno whatsit..."

"The kynodesme?"

"Yes. If you were circumcised then it wouldn't work?"

"No. But the Greeks regarded circumcision as barbaric because it resulted in the permanent exposure of the glans; the knob end."

"So a cultural thing?"

"Yes as so much is - like Freikörperkultur."

"The kynodesme must be uncomfortable if you get, um, well, hard.

"Probably but it would depend on the length of the foreskin; whether the expansion could be easily accommodated. It must have happened. Spontaneous erections in the exertion of wrestling."

"Really?"

"Yes. Not uncommon - all that friction!"

"Amusing to watch."

"You'd like that?"

"What naked guys - good looking guys wrestling naked. Yeah, please. A wet dream! Not if they were gay though."

Hannah was even more surprised at herself. Talking about what her sexual fantasies might be. It was warm, hot even in the hut and the man easy to talk to. The talk had not helped his cock. It looked almost painfully swollen.

"Shall we?" she said. She wanted to.

"What, wrestle?" He was smiling - he knew what she meant.

"No!" Her hands touched her breasts. It was deliberately sexual. Her fingers toyed with a nipple. She was giving him licence to touch himself, to give himself relief from his 'problem.' The nipple was already swollen and sensitive. Her other hand moved to her lap, touching her thighs where they were soft and tingly close to her sex.

"I've never done this before - I mean not with someone else."

The man did not answer. Did that mean that he had? He was staring, watching her moving hands. He had not yet touched himself. Hannah wondered if her actions were sexy enough could she cause a spontaneous ejaculation, the man just coming by seeing what she did; a tribute to her sexuality. Of course when boyfriends had come too soon, what was called a premature ejaculation, she had not been flattered. It had been a nuisance and a disappointment but she had learnt to be patient and how to make them hard again.

Hannah's finger moved to trace the little vertical valley of her hairless mons. She was suddenly worried he thought her a little girl. 

"I shave," Hannah said, "I'm not usually like this."

"I can see! Your preference?"

Who else? And then Hannah realised it was a subtle question about a boyfriend. "Yes mine, I was tidying for a beach holiday and got carried away! It made me laugh when I saw myself in a mirror." Her finger was sliding up and down her slit. "What do you like?"

"Oh well, I am of course easy. You look charming like that. If I was to express a preference then it would be for the natural look."

He was still not stroking. Hannah looked down at him. It really was a big cock. She did not think she had seen one so big. He, of course, did not shave. Men did not, she supposed, well there anyway, but if he did it would probably make the cock seem even bigger. She wanted to see him stroke it.

Hannah's fingers slipped lower but she realised her hand was hiding her sex from him. Carefully she lifted first one foot, then the other up onto the seat so her thighs splayed and her sex was open and visible to him. He had, after all, in the hut seen pretty much everything of her and he might as well see it in detail. Her fingers ran down the smooth rounded hairless edge of her sex - the labia major - it had been a careful shaving there! Her wetness was leaking out onto the smooth skin making it slippery enough even for a razor!

At last the man began to stroke. Hannah watched as his hand moved from his hairy thigh onto his cock. Thumb on the top, fingers below and then he began sliding the foreskin up almost to cover the head and then right down again exposing it. A man masturbating.

Hannah's fingers moved further. So strange to be watching him: and he watching her. His fingers sliding; her fingers stroking; her fingers entering and seemingly making him move a little faster; so strange to be so exposed and doing such an intimate act - with a stranger.

"I wonder if there's a tissue." It was so matter of fact. There they were facing each other and masturbating together, which was such a weird thing to be doing, and yet the man was being so practical. Of course his 'stuff' would need to go somewhere. For a moment Hannah thought of offering to swallow it for him, suck his penis and save the mess. Her fingers moved a little faster. She would not mind at all doing that, it would be good to feel that big shiny head in her mouth, roll her tongue around and feel the hot pulsing come. Her fingers slipped inside herself again - very easily. Was she turned on or was she turned on? It was no use pretending to herself. She knew what she wanted.

"I'm sorry. Would you mind if we did this properly?" She had no sooner said it than she was walking across the floor to him; she wanted to feel what that big erection would be like in her; wanted to feel full and sliding on something a little more substantial than her own fingers. The fact of his age seemed to make it acceptable.

His hand stopped moving as she stood before him. Slowly he rose. They were very close. They had not been so close before; he had not touched her before, not even their fingers had touched as he had handed her the mugs of tea: but now the very end of his engorged penis just lightly touched her tummy. It was damp at the end. It marked a change.

"You wish to copulate?

It was a funny, seemingly old fashioned expression but yes that was it precisely. Hannah nodded.

"Well, I'd hardly wish to refuse if you are sure?"

She reached out and touched his erection near the end and with pursed fingers pulled his foreskin right over his head.

"There you are. Not rude at all now!"

It would have been unfortunate if that had set him off, a sudden bubbling up of white semen from the wrinkled folds of his puckered foreskin, warm dollops of cum splashing into her hand. A big disappointment to her.

Hannah let go and the foreskin retracted all on its own. Revealing, once more, the big shiny head, all smooth and rounded - just the right shape, of course, to penetrate a woman.

Hannah got up on the bench, a knee either side of the man's lap and hovered over his cock, her sex splayed, wet and ready to receive him.

"Ready? Here I come!"

Hannah held him and slowly let herself down, her eyes closed as she felt the knob touch her, savouring that delicious feeling of being penetrated, of being opened. She could feel it was big.

Her breath eased out of her with a sigh.

"Big, big, big," she breathed as she let herself down. The man, this stranger, a man over twice, probably three times her age, this naked man in a hut just sat there as she slid his big penis up into her, ever so slowly. She could feel it opening her as it rose up inside her. "Oh lovely, you're so big in me."

Hannah paused; the penis lodged deep inside her, and opened her eyes to look at the man. "Oh, that's nice, oh, not rude at all now, all hidden!" Hannah bit her lip as she moved back up the penis, sliding easily on her own wetness.

The man smiled at her, "No, not rude at all now." His hands went to her breasts. Men like breasts. "Slowly, Hannah, not too fast. Let's make this last."

Hannah did not notice he knew her name.

The clothes side by side, together on the radiator, the man and woman joined, he sitting, she sitting astride his legs and bouncing up and down on his cock; the hut warm and comfortable: the weather outside atrocious.

Hannah managed to come first. It would have been such a disappointment, such a letdown had the man ejaculated and she found herself trying to bring herself off on an in increasingly insubstantial cock until with one desperate unsuccessful bounce it slipped from her, There was, though, none of that. The cock was as hard and big as she could wish as she felt her orgasm building; she slipped a hand between them and played with her clit as the orgasm hit her. Her eyes squeezed tight shut and her mouth open and panting. It was good - very good.

Hannah rested and then opened her eyes. "You haven't come." It was a statement really.

"No, whilst my erection persists almost too much I find coming, ejaculating, takes a bit more effort these days. A problem of age I suppose."

Hannah began to bounce. She liked to be helpful. It felt as firm as ever.

"I wonder if a different position would be possible. I think it would do the trick."

Lifting herself off, Hannah stood. "How?"

The man's penis was as hard as before but now it was simply dripping with her wetness - almost, Hannah thought, as if it had been rained upon!

"There's no bed for the missionary position, so could you perhaps... kneel and I could come in behind?"

And so Hannah found herself kneeling on the bench, legs splayed, her face to the wall and bottom raised so the man could approach her from the rear. She knew her bottom hole would be exposed as clear as anything in the fluorescent light - perhaps he liked that, not that she would let him try anything! It was perhaps a little undignified, but when was sex dignified? It was perhaps a little animalistic, but her desire had indeed been just that - the desire to rut.

Beneath her, Hannah felt the smooth head of the stranger's penis once more at her entrance and then sliding easily within until the man's thighs were tight against her bottom, his hands grasped her hips and then he began to fuck. It had been her doing the fucking whilst seated: it was now him doing the fucking, steady purposeful fucking with long regular thrusts. With one hand Hannah reached under herself and cupped his swinging balls. She knew men liked that and, to be fair, so did she. His hand reached under her and held a breast and then she felt him coming, a hard thrust at each spurt, each thrust pushing her against the wall and him against her bottom. 

There were a lot of thrusts, there were a lot of spurts, there was an awful lot of semen.

The train pulled out of the station. Hannah's clothes were all dry on her and she looked almost presentable. She smoothed down the material of her skirt. It was so pleasant to have on dry underclothes. Her new white bra and lacy panties had been as warm as toast from the radiator when she had put them on. They had felt lovely. The only dampness now came from a slightly spreading wetness in her warm panties; the sort of spreading wetness that comes from recent intercourse; a mixture of her own lubrication and a man's semen seeping from her - quite a lot actually. She was not quite sure why she had done that with him, the stranger - had he somehow, perhaps, hypnotised her? She was unsure of her reasons: it did not seem like her at all to have engaged like that with a stranger.

Nor was she quite sure why she had agreed to meet him again the next day at his home perhaps, no probably, for some more Freikörperkultur and, no doubt, ficken.



Soaked To the Skin Pt. 02



It was not something Hannah could put her finger upon: much less describe. There was a feeling, not a strong feeling more a nagging doubt that all had not been as it seemed; that the man's bonhomie and easy conversation was a trifle contrived; that there was more to his pleasantries than met the eye. But she was not sure; it was only a small worry at the time.

It was only later, looking back that she realised her behaviour had not been normal, that it had slowly and subtly changed, that she had not been acting as she usually would and that realisation had caused her to seek an explanation. The limited evidence pointed towards him; that he had done something to her; something early on: there was no question he had not done something to her later! There was, after all, no one else involved.

But it had not been planned; the whole meeting at the railway station had been happenstance. Surely it could not all have developed out of an accidental meeting in the rain?

The interview had, despite it all, gone well. Hannah had not seen anyone frowning at her clothes, at the way they looked crumpled as if she had not ironed them after the wash. They had, of course, mostly been men and she would not really have expected them to notice such things. Hannah smiled; her close friend, Angie Scott, would have had a bon mot on the subject along the lines of men tending to see the woman under the clothes; indeed seeing through the clothes, missing them entirely, whilst looking for the body beneath.

The dampness in her panties had long gone yet Hannah was still conscious her body held the outcome of the morning's intercourse. For no real reason that she could fathom, she had engaged in sexual relations with a complete stranger in a workman's hut on the railway. She had taken all her clothes off, admittedly to dry them on a radiator, and this had lead through conversation to her own arousal and request that he fuck her 'properly.' It simply was not what she did. She was no virgin, not that her mother knew that, but she was no trollop who jumped on men's laps just like that. Yet she had done just that and onto an older, indeed much older man as well. She had liked him. He had been amusing and so pleasant.

Amusing and pleasant were good but not enough surely to go that far and offer herself like that?

Hannah did not understand but she had, even so, accepted his invitation to call upon him again the next day. She was not inclined to fail to turn up - indeed she was looking forward to renewing the acquaintance. The man had been really rather engaging and he did not, after all, live far away and she could go on her bicycle.

Just at the time Hannah was returning by train from her interview and pondering on the strange events of the morning, a little up the road from the station and that very workmen's hut that had been the scene of those events a marital conversation had begun:

"Oh, this is a nice surprise, dear. I thought you were staying the night in London at the Savoy. Did you meet Hannah Hutchings on the train as you had arranged?"

The man kissed his wife.

"Not as such; it all worked out rather differently from what I had planned. The rain rather stopped that particular play. No need to go to the hotel."

"It was simply awful. I did feel for you. Did you get caught? But, I can see, you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh yes, she is a fine, strapping young girl, just as you said."

"You copulated?"

"Naturally. She was very pliable in the end. Quite juicy!"

"Lovely dear, you do still so enjoy that game. Will you be taking the young girl again?"

"Tomorrow I think. I've invited her to luncheon"

"Oh that will be nice.. It does save me all that messy bother. I really find it too much these days. Far better you enjoy yourself with younger women. They have the stamina and the lubrication! You can play with her whilst I have a lie down after luncheon. I shall enjoy seeing her at lunch. Tell me, what happened. I do like a good story."

"You know I said it looked like it might rain later when I set out for the train?"

"Yes. The clouds were threatening and it did so pour after you'd gone. I was worried for you."

"Well, I got truly caught but, more to the point, so did she. Like a half drowned kitten. Totally soaked and her blouse all transparent with the rain."

"Pleasing for you, my dear: most tiresome for Hannah. Did you help her off with that? I told you she had a fine bosom."

"Very fine. All in good time..."

The next morning found Hannah cycling up the road. It was drizzling slightly. She had her cagoule over her dress to keep it dry but the rain was wetting her legs. It did not really matter her trainers getting wet as she had her high heeled shoes in the bag on her back. Her mother had asked her where she was going and she had made some story up. Her mother had been worried about her going out in the rain "after yesterday." Not that her mother knew half about "yesterday."

She was very much too smartly dressed for cycling but an invitation to lunch at the big house was not something she could turn up in just jeans and tee shirt. Not, Hannah suspected, her dress would stay on all afternoon. She was sure Sir Hugh Wagstaff would find some excuse for nakedness and if he didn't she would! Hannah did not understand it but she had enjoyed the fuck yesterday and wanted to do it again. She knew he was old enough to be her father - her grandfather even and, if all her ancestors had sired at fifteen or sixteen, even her great grandfather!

Hannah was puzzled at herself but there she was in her little grey dress cycling through the rain to East Mumble Hall. Her freshly bathed sex firmly planted on the leather of the bicycle seat, her hands on the handlebars and her wet legs propelling her along the road. Probably Sir Hugh would have preferred her naked beneath the cagoule, happy for her to hand it to him on her arrival, pleased to towel her legs to dryness and, no doubt, more than content that she could still wear her high heeled shoes. It would have felt funny just wearing the cagoule - rather clammy and sweaty without some cotton or the like between her skin and the nylon. Had it been fine she could have dispensed with the cagoule but what would the drivers and other cyclists she had passed have thought - let alone her mother seeing her off!

And what would the leather feel like without the protection of her grey dress and panties? Sir Hugh would, like as not, have made some very apposite comment about the intimacy the leather saddle had with her, about how jealous the boys would be, about how surprisingly intimate a bicycle saddle is with a girl. Hannah laughed as she turned into the entrance drive of the hall, her bicycle wheels making a pleasing scrunching sound on the gravel. 

Leaning on his spade the gardener watched from the bushes. What a gay young thing with a pretty laugh! Such long smooth legs making the bicycle wheels go round. He wondered if Sir Hugh would need his assistance later.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds illuminating the stone porch as Hannah rode up. It really was quite a grand house. She looked up at the sky for the rainbow. Her optimism was rewarded, the rainbow arcing across the sky in brilliant colours. 

"Hannah, my dear, so pleased you could come." The man was there, hand outstretched, immaculately attired in tweed and brogues. Hannah had half expected to find him naked but for a leather thong - a kynodesme. Perhaps he wore it beneath.

"It is such a shame it is still raining. A walk in the garden would have been so pleasant. Perhaps, though, the conservatory after luncheon. The best we shall manage if the rain holds might be a walk down the garden and back? I would like to show you my garden. It is wonderful in the sunshine but this rain is such a nuisance. Let me take your coat."

'Coat' was a little overstating Hannah's cagoule but she was happy to hand it over and retrieve her high heels. They brought her rather higher than she had been in the workman's hut when barefoot. She smoothed the grey dress down, her fingers lightly tracing her thighs. She did not like to mention her legs but they would dry.

"Please this way."

Hannah walked before him. She had half expected his hand to pat her buttocks in a familiar way and encourage her forward. She could imagine the thin dress would have given the temptation but that did not seem to be Sir Hugh's style. He had, after all, been very gentlemanly in the workman's hut, not seeking to take advantage and, indeed, it was she who had taken the initiative - she thought.

Lady Lyanthe rose as Hannah entered the room.

"Hannah, my dear, how good of you to come."

Hannah could recall meeting Lady Lyanthe before. Was it at the village hall or some social event of her mother's? She could not remember.

"Pleased to meet you. It was kind of Sir Hugh to invite me. I... we... he was very kind to me at the station in the rain; I was on the way to an interview and..."

"Yes, yes Hugh told me. So unfortunate, getting so wet; must have been dreadful; but with a happy ending?"

"Yeah, I got to the interview OK."

"Arnold Barker's company I believe."

"You know him?"

"Oh yes, we do. Hugh was at school with Arnold. A good man, indeed a good company. How did the interview go?"

It was all very pleasant. A glass of wine as an aperitif before lunch; easy relaxed conversation; both her hosts charming. Lady Lyanthe had even been complimentary about her dress. "Hugh is such a philistine. All he sees is the body beneath. Don't you my dear? Too much a connoisseur of the female form. But it is of course good for a man to have a hobby. Better than motor cars - all that oil!"

The remark, though, was slightly strange. Humorous certainly but giving the suggestion that Lady Lyanthe knew more of the workman's hut than Hannah would have expected.

Luncheon was equally good and as far as Hannah could judge the wine was very good indeed both white and red. Outside the day looked a little brighter, clouded over but with the occasional hint of blue. Sir Hugh saw Hannah looking at the window.

"Yes we shall try the garden later. We may risk getting all muddy but that is nature and perhaps Freikörperkultur."

"Oh you and your Freikörperkultur," said Lady Lyanthe, "only suitable for the Mediterranean or perhaps the Indies: not England even in summer. The Germans are a hardy lot but, unlike Hugh, I don't have any German blood."

"My maternal grandfather," explained Sir Hugh, "I used to go to Germany a lot as a boy."

Hannah was nonplussed; she had not expected such a clear continuation of yesterday's conversation. 

"You would like to try nudity outside the hut I presume?"

Hannah stared. It was evident Lady Lyanthe knew everything or at least nearly everything. What could she say? What should she say?

"Oh, I don't know that I could."

"It is such a fine dress," said Lady Lyanthe, "it is a pity not to wear it but you would not want to get it all muddy. I could lend you something."

But it was clear Sir Hugh was having none of it. "Nonsense. Strong strapping lass is not going to feel the cold; it is brightening; we might even see the sun; a glass of brandy will do the trick and if we keep moving at a brisk pace."

"Well, I shall retire for a while. You are not to tire our guest, Hugh, and see she does not get cold."

Hannah was not used to wine at lunch let alone strong spirits; still less to undressing in front of her hosts at lunch. Of course the brandy helped and Sir Hugh did seem to be rather persuasive.

Lady Lyanthe watched. Indeed Sir Hugh watched. It was not like the workman's hut. Hannah felt herself on show.

"Such a pretty dress," Lady Lyanthe was returning to her previous comment but now it was folded over a chair. Hannah was standing in Sir Hugh's dining room with nothing but her bra and panties. It had not been easy pulling the dress over her head, not in company. Of course the underclothes were dry this time.

"And what a pretty figure. Come, my dear, don't be shy, show us - or rather me - all."

It seemed awfully rude not to comply straightway. Hannah blushed as her hands reached and she undid the bra strap and let it fall away, her breasts revealed. It was as easy to get it over with as wait. The panties came down.

"Why, my dear, how naughty. Shaving at your age. Well I never. Turn for me. Yes, a lovely figure, your dress did not lie. Well I'll leave you now for a nap. Hugh I am sure will entertain you with his boundless energy."

Sir Hugh showed his wife out before returning to his naked guest. "Right, let's have this walk. Let me show you the grounds. But of course, first the Freikörperkultur."

It was clear Sir Hugh had no compunction about undressing in front of Hannah. Even when his penis bounded out of his underpants already fully erect.

Hannah had seen it before but she could not avoid her eyes widening. It was the incongruity, perhaps or was it its fine proportions? It was as big as she remembered.

"Come," he said and the two of them stepped out of the French Windows into the open air. It was not something you could do anywhere but clearly a naked couple walking out of the house, and down stone steps with the man sporting an erection was quite acceptable at the Hall. Not that there was obviously anyone to see. The gravel was a little uncomfortable on Hannah's feet but soon her bare feet were on the wet grass; soft if a little cold. Sir Hugh was chatting merrily pointing out this and that about the house and the grounds.

A shaft of sunlight came between the clouds illuminating the lawn in yellow light - and the strolling pair.

"See the weather is brightening!"

Hannah was not so sure but the garden was certainly fine even if her mode of viewing it was a little peculiar. She was happier closer to the borders, on the grassed paths between hedges, indeed anywhere but out in the open in the middle of the lawn. She felt so exposed, so vulnerable. And Sir Hugh was certainly exposed. It really was most peculiar!

Sir Hugh had not been so right about the weather. The rain began to pour. It was very like being caught on the way to the railway station a few days before, only this time she did not have to wait to be soaked to the skin: that happened straightway - there were no clothes for the rain to soak through!

The rain soaking her hair, running down her neck, cascading off her breasts - off her cold hardened nipples - like two miniature waterfalls. Sir Hugh looked like he was perpetually urinating as the rain ran in streams down his stomach and much of it seemed to run out along his flaccid penis and rush to the ground in a stream. There was no point hurrying anywhere and Sir Hugh seemed to find it all very funny and Hannah could not but join in. There was no pressure, no ruined interview clothes, and no deadline to meet: they were out for a walk and the rain had come down and they were soaked. Naked and soaked. It was not as if the warm house was far away. It was easy just to enjoy being out in it, as natural a shower as you could get and the water so soft. The rain just poured.

They sought shelter in a little thatched summer house. It was charming, thoroughly charming. A sort of mock Tudor construct even with a little brick chimney complete with corkscrew stack at the top; leaded light windows, an oak door and certainly shelter from the rain.

"A little folly of my great grandfather's. Perhaps he built it for dalliance in the garden. I wonder who he brought here?"

Hannah wondered if its purpose had not changed at all in all the years it had stood there; but it was cold inside especially as they were so wet.

Sir Hugh crouched over the brick fireplace and within seconds there was a flame. Dry tinder and ready kindling plus the all important ingredient of a match had done the trick. The fire, if not yet warm, was certainly cheery as the rain came outside and beat on the old leaded panes. Sir Hugh drew up a wooden bench before the fire and they sat on it warming their naked feet. The fire crackled as it gained hold sending smoke and sparks up the chimney. Sir Hugh added a few small logs. It was building nicely.

"Well Hannah, here we are sheltering from the rain again."

"But isn't a real fire so much nicer than an electric radiator."

"But we were more than grateful for it."

"Mmmm. Got our clothes toasty warm." Hannah could feel the heat now coming off the fire. Her initial thought that it would be best to head to the house was going. This was really rather fun.

"Sitting on this wooden bench, sitting naked I mean, reminds me what you were saying about the Turkish Bath the other day, you know in Germany and how..."

"No, no, no not a Turkish Bath but a sauna. They are not the same. In a sauna the air is dry, very dry but in a Turkish Bath it is steamy. Both are very good for you. Of course the Turkish Bath, the Hamam, is very similar to Roman baths and we are going back a long way to those! They can be very beautiful buildings, you must see one, try one in Turkey sometime or around that part of the world."

"And it is like the Germans? Everyone naked and both sexes together?"

"Again no, not at all. That would appal the Turk! Strict segregation of the sexes, different baths or different times and not nudity - at least not for the men. A towel at all times."

"Not what I would have expected."

"Ah well, reputations are not always deserved or justified. No, the Hamam is a place of relaxation and a meeting place. Properly there are three basic rooms; you would like me to explain?"

Hannah assented.

"You begin in the warm room where you relax and perspire before moving to the hot room, the Sicaklik. In the best it is a domed room with small glass windows in the dome that create a half-light; the room will contain a large marble stone called a Göbektasi at the centre on which you and others lie and are given a very vigorous soapy massage. You can cool yourself by ladling cold water or taking it flowing from fountains. The room is hot and steamy with vapour - not, my dear, steamy with sex! Finally there is the cold room to have a refreshing drink a sherbet or sometimes tea - çey, take a snack - çerez, and perhaps take a nap in a private cubicle and dress."

"It is easy for the more Western mind to conjure up a vision of naughtiness in such a place. Such a little twist and all is not simply exotic but erotic!"

Sir Hugh was warming to his theme. Hannah was happy to sit, opening her legs a little so the heat of the fire warmed her sex as she listened.

"Imagine you arrive at this, what shall we call it, this naughty Hamam, this Kötü Hamami. It is a building of some antiquity, beautifully marbled and tiled - if a little 'faded glory.' 

An old woman greets you, 'Merhaba, Hannah hanim', and you slip your clothes from your body. You dress in a pretty cotton peshtemal, pick up a towel and don wooden clogs - Nalin, to stop you slipping on the wet marble floor and settle yourself in the warm room. It is quiet and pleasant. A few other women join you, pleasant chatter as you perspire and then into the Sicaklik. A surprise, for it is not just women there but there are young male masseuses waiting, seemingly just dressed merely in towels. You had perhaps been expecting Kispet, leather trousers worn by the oil wrestlers. Perhaps you might see that later; strong men trying to clasp and throw their opponent with them all slippery with olive oil. It is perhaps like the wrestling of the Ancients.

The massage is not gentle, the men are strong and you are in their hands. The massage is firm done with a rough glove, a Kese. 

You are staring at the young man, you can see the swelling beneath the towel and you are so wishing that the towel will slip, that the fold at the waist will give way and it will fall; perhaps catching momentarily on his strongly upstanding cock but then dropping to the ground leaving the young man's light brown skin shining in the light, his hard circumcised penis pointing towards the dome above you. Let us have it fall!




Soaked To the Skin Pt. 02



There is no attempt to retie the towel. The young man is leaving himself naked for you. He moves, working at your body but your eyes follow his cock as it waggles, oh so suggestively to you. The knob plump and shiny, so smooth and rounded - such a delight to you. Pleasing to you to think the tumescence is a response to you. It is firm, not a hint of sag, solid, rugged and masculine. The other masseuses seem in a similar state of excitement. If only the other towels would fall and you could see!

It surprises you; you are not used to seeing so many young men with tumescent penises even if hidden beneath the cotton. They must enjoy their work and are thinking ahead. Perhaps one by one their rough work, their firm massaging causes the towels indeed to loosen, first one then another slipping from their bodies perhaps catching for a moment or two on their cocks like your own did - such fine fleshly coat pegs! You are impressed - the young men are working erect. A comparison of penises, of Turkish erections so interesting to you. All very firm. They are young men after all! 

And what of the men lying on the göbektasi being worked at by the girls. The girls' silks made wet by the soaping, a transparency appearing, half seen breasts, very clear nipples pushed against wet silk, wet buttocks plastered with silk. The female form half revealed, mysterious and exciting. You can see they have excited the men and to get fully at the men's bodies they have removed the men's towels and they too are displaying like the masseuse working on you, yes like the other young men, their penises lying on their tummies or raised up perhaps seeking. The atmosphere of the room heady with perfumed steam and the prospect of sex. Erections everywhere you look. You have an almost overwhelming desire to hold."

Hannah giggled, "It sounds rather wonderful. A real girl's dream. All those... all those naked men. I can imagine it. But would it be like that?"

"No, not at all. Nothing like that! You would only have male attendants in the female Hamam in perhaps a tourist place and not like that, not like that at all - they would be clothed. It is not the way of the Turk at all. Inside the male hamam the men are not naked but have towels around their waists - and not ones ready to fall! Perhaps not always so for the women to be so carefully modest but then again there are only women present. The Hamam and washing is a serious but social business - it is not about sex at all. That is pure Western fabrication. But it is pleasant to fantasise, nonetheless. Did you like the imagery?"

Hannah noticed Sir Hugh's eyes were on her thighs and she was conscious they were rather open as if readying herself for sex - or was it merely to feel the heat of the fire - just there? Hannah knew she had become wet, the story arousing, could Sir Hugh pick out her scent? Instinctively she closed her thighs - a little act of modesty. Quite unnecessary as she knew.

The room was a lot warmer now. It was not large and the fire had built strongly. Hannah thought it would be sex with Sir Hugh right there. Repeating, probably, what he had done before many times in the folly and perhaps not just with Lady Lyanthe; repeating what his ancestors had done - Edwardians, Victorians, Georgians? Had many a winter's night seen strange happenings? Had estate workers peered through the window in astonishment at what the fine folk do in 'private?'

"What happens next?"

"Well properly comes the sluicing of water to wash off the result of all that scrubbing and then back to the warm room and finally relaxation in the cold room and a cooling drink."

"I was more thinking of what those strong Turkish men might do."

"Hannah, surely you do not want them to do more?"

"What, looking like that? Yes, please!"

They laughed together. 

"Do you want me to tell you; shall I describe what happens."

"You are a good story teller."

"A good bedtime story?"

"Well I am a big girl now and we big girls like a big girl story."

"More it is big men I think!"

"Yes, please, for bed."

Hannah liked Sir Hugh; he was so fun to be with - just like in the workman's hut. He had a way with him.

"Have I inserted too many big men in your story perhaps?"

Hannah caught the play on 'inserted' and laughed.

"And now you want them inserted in you? How many - there are other girls in the hamam and they have needs too."

"But I thought it was my story!"

"Perhaps the clients are all matched up, after all the masseuses, tellaklar, have other clients to follow and it would not be fair of you to use up all their erections - take all their semen away."

"But if they did this day in day out they would not keep their erections surely? It would be commonplace and no longer stimulating. The sight of naked woman just everyday work - even the touching."

"You have me there, Hannah hanim but it is only a bedtime story. Not real."

"More's the pity!"

"You reach up and grasp the young man's strengthening erection, penisin sertlešmesi, it is so firm in your hand. The head so shiny. He smiles and acknowledges your request. He knows it is not just a body massage he must perform but the other more intimate massage, not just a rigorous rubbing of your body but of your vagina as well. As you massage his cock he eases your thighs apart and his soapy hand slide firmly, massaging the muscles but each time getting a little closer to your sex. He can see it is open and waiting. You are prepared.

You look around and you are not alone. The other ladies have their hands full just like you. All of the young men are held."

"How nice for the ladies!"

The story was as invigorating as the massage. It had got Hannah quite worked up and it clearly had the same effect on Sir Hugh. Hannah had not missed the stirring as he talked and then the steady pumping rise of his penis so it now stood waving hopefully in the air, its head ruddy and shining. She could easily imagine Sir Hugh in the Kötü Hamami making his rounds of the ladies. Her hand stole out.

"Can I reach and hold?" And with it her hand went to Sir Hugh's own erection but unlike the fine young Turks there was a foreskin to slide and Hannah slid.

"But, alas, I do not have a hamam. I have thought of building one but, well, the expense to do it properly, the tiles and the dome. A simple functional building would miss the point but I can offer you a sauna. They are so much easier to build because the traditional Scandanavian sauna is just a box made of pine planks with a heat source. You can buy them ready to assemble. Mine is a little better but nonetheless it is not on the scale of a hamam even a small private hamam. I regret."

Hannah's eyes were on his penis watching her hand moving the skin over the head and down again. She was thinking of sex, thinking of the young Turks all slippery and ready for the enjoying, thinking of mounting Sir Hugh, thinking of feeling his thick cock inside her again. In a way it surprised her. It was not surprise that the story had excited her nor that she had become interested - very interested - in Sir Hugh's erection; she was used to her sexual feelings and how she became aroused; but it was the easy way she found herself naked at Sir Hugh's house and how she fell easily in with his strange ways. A few days ago would have been completely different, she would never have dreamt of sitting naked like this let alone playing with this quite old gentleman's cock.

Something had happened in that workman's hut - not that she minded; she was very much enjoying sitting in the pretty little mock cottage listening to a sexy story and holding Sir Hugh like that. But something had happened. Her mind, her thoughts, her attitudes were not the same. Her hand fondled a little more.

Hannah was imagining the oil wrestlers.

"I did love your talk of the Turkish Bath, the..."

"Haman."

"Yes. You mentioned oil wrestling."

"Ah yes. Very Turkish. Strong young men with their bodies oiled, wrestling against each other dressed only in leather trousers. I suspect leather takes the oil well and duplicates skin somewhat making a grip difficult and the wrestling hard. A hand could grip cotton or linen but not the leather. No risk of them being pulled off. We know the ancient Greeks wrestled naked but not whether the oil wrestling is that old. Probably, yes."

Hannah liked the idea of strong men wrestling.

"It does sound rather gay."

"Yes, perhaps to us, but it has no such connotation in Turkey. Not at all."

"But with all that grappling, all that skin to skin and oily sliding might..."

"Might not an erection happen? Indeed I am sure it must."

"Mmm." Hannah had one in her hand.

"You like the idea?"

Hannah did; the idea of watching fine young men exerting themselves but seeing that familiar bulge, perhaps familiar shape outlined in the oily leather. "Yes."

"Perhaps the winner takes you as the prize? Is that an idea?"

"Young men fighting over me. Now, there's a thought!"

"You standing with the winner holding his hand high."

"I'd need to be careful not to get that oil on my clothes. Olive oil I presume?"

"Clothes? Yes it is olive oil."

"Sir Hugh, you are not suggesting..."

"Perhaps I was! The winner wrestling you into public submission! Imagine the hushed audience as you undo his trousers and they drop letting his erection spring free."

"He is erect, is he, with everyone watching?"

"He sees you naked and desirable, he knows his prize. How could he not be? It is natural!"

"Is he big?"

"Why not? Very big. Let's give him, this Turkish lad, a fine stand. His big circumcised knob shining. There is a gasp from the audience and you walk him around but instead of holding his hand high you grasp his manly spike, the knob showing above your fist, and display him, the victor, to the men and women watching."

"And then?"

"More oil is poured. On you this time and the grappling starts."

"Sexy. All that slipperiness."

"Would you like the audience watching, even applauding?"

"I don't know. Public copulation seems so strange. There's a big difference between watching and being watched!"

"Perhaps you have already watched others. Yours is not the first bout!"

"I feel sorry for the loser."

"He watches too and sees what he has missed out on - you!"

"I think I'd like to have seen the men wrestle naked. Do women wrestle in Turkey?"

"A modern thing, but yes."

"You'd like naked girl wrestling no doubt!"

"Of course - and seen it!"

"Not fair. I've not seen the men! I'd like seeing them get hard as they wrestle. Gay really, but not if they were competing for me! Those firm male bodies, those tight little bottoms, and big erections - Mmm please! Do you think the audience might laugh when one got hard?"

"Very possibly. It must be a worry for the ordinary wrestler but when he is exposed like that. Shall we make it their first time naked?"

"Why not?"

"They had not expected that. Told to take the trousers off and then shown you as the prize. An erotically charged situation. Unexpectedly grappling with a naked opponent and you by the side - eminently desirable. Difficult for them both not to start erect let alone what might come from the slippery contact with the male opponent and the prospect of grappling with you."

"Lovely to see. Strong muscled men trying to get a hold on the other and an erection coming. I'm not sure, though, about being publically... um... fucked."

"Perhaps you win."

"Unlikely! If the big boy doesn't make me cum. I mean being fucked in the ring with everyone watching might put me off. What if I feel the squirting of the winner's big cock too soon?"

"Has he penetrated yet or are you still wrestling?"

"I wouldn't be that strong. I couldn't hold him off getting his lovely slippery prick into me."

"Sounds like you wouldn't want to hold him off! But I think the audience would love it if he suddenly spurted all over you. The disappointment on his face that he had not got to have you."

"Do I get the loser to play with?"

"Or do you have to wait for the next fight to be over and another winner presented? Sitting demurely at the ringside all oiled up and..."

"Sticky with spunk!"

"Yes it's not just oil your next partner has to contend with but getting another man's semen on him as well. The audience will like that!"

"So I get to be fucked in the end!"

"Of course! It is only natural."

She had been maintaining a steady rhythm, Hannah waited for Sir Hugh to touch her; she could feel her breasts tingling in anticipation. It was only natural to want to fuck.

"Well, Hannah, perhaps a choice. We could have intercourse here, I could tell you more of the Kötü Hamami and perhaps bring you off with my fingers without intercourse or we could go through the rain back to the house and to my sauna and continue there. What would you like? I have taken the liberty of having the sauna heated."

All the choices were good. It was so tempting just to get on Sir Hugh, sit on his lap and push his long penis up into her - he was more than ready for that. She would like to hear more of the young Turks in the sauna or wrestling. She knew it would not just be one boy she would enjoy - it was after all her big girl's story and what girl would not like the attention of strong young tumescent men jostling for position, each keen to make the insertion and take possession. Lovely to see them jostling and erect. It was her story, the pleasure of the other women not her concern. But she felt Sir Hugh wanted her to go to his sauna. She was the guest and did not like to refuse him. She would be fucked there - in the cottage or in the sauna, she would be fucked. That was good!

"It'll be cold running through the rain."

"But invigorating. Not quite like rolling in the snow but it is part of the sauna to experience different temperatures." His hand rested on her thigh.

"Are you warm now and ready?"

Hannah shuddered. Oh yes, she was ready! She stood, stepped over Sir Hugh's thigh, grasped his penis and slid him right up inside her. With one virtually fluid movement she had Sir Hugh embedded deep as she sat astride him. With her vaginal muscles she grasped him firmly.

"Oh yes - so ready! But we need to go to the sauna."

She did not, though, make a move. She held him savouring the sensations, savouring his long penis inside her, savouring the way she was holding him. The wonderful animalistic connection. Hannah wanted to ride, slide up - no better to say 'massage' his erection - but knew once she started she would not stop. Not stop until she and probably Sir Hugh had come. She had to be the good guest and see Sir Hugh's sauna. If only the yonng Turks were there. She could satiate herself on their erections and leave Sir Hugh firm and excited for the sauna. He would be able to enjoy her there even if she had had her fill of sex - and, indeed, fill of the young Turks' semen! She could so imagine the delicious spurting of their brown circumcised erections as one after another she used them. She was sure Sir Hugh would be happy to watch her with the young men. He would enjoy seeing what she and they did. The idea of 'using' these naked young men so attractive.

They must have sat like that for a good five minutes, not moving, not even speaking. The fire hot on Hannah's back. She could feel the sweat beginning to run - like it would be in the sauna or the hamam. The sexual tension rising, their sexes joined but unmoving. Eventually she rose. The lovely feeling of the penis sliding. Sir Hugh had not abated.

"That was nice."

"Yes, very companionable, very friendly." He too stood; his manly erection prominent and damp from Hannah. Marvellous to see a man like that. "Shall we go then?"

The rain was still pouring down, the sky almost black with cloud. It was cold and simply horrible. A shock to Hannah leaving the warmth of the cottage. Hand in hand with Sir Hugh: him sporting his erection, she with nipples erect and a real sexual tingle all over. In seconds all this was washed away by the rain and the cold. But Sir Hugh would not let her run. He said the cooling would make the sauna that much more pleasurable and so they slowly walked up the garden as the water cascaded down them running off his now limp penis; once more making it look as if he was continually urinating; making her hair hang sodden and heavy on her shoulders. It was not sexual: it was wet and cold.

Another door to the house, into the basement, a corridor and then a little pine hut in one corner. 

"Please, after you."

Hannah stepped into warmth - or rather, heat - the sauna was all match boarded inside, all bright golden pine; there was a scent of pine; a feeling of bright cleanliness. Two benches to sit upon, the warm touch of wood on her cold feet - the hot touch of wood on her cold bottom. She laughed at the contrast.

"You like?"

Hannah liked. After the cold rain it was lovely to sit again in the warmth - the heat. She had liked the little folly - she hoped to go there again and finish the act another time - it had been warm and cosy but so too was the sauna. Perhaps hot and cosy was more the description.

"Oh dear, Sir Hugh, look what has happened to you!"

There had been no way Sir Hugh could have maintained his erection in the cold and wet even if Hannah had held and stroked it the whole way - trying to nurse its tumescence. It had all shrivelled up and was not its usual proud self. Hannah lent right over, picked it up with her fingers and popped it in her mouth. It was small, cold and wet from the rain: a pitiful thing compared to its earlier pride: it was not like that, however, when Hannah took it out again! A careful nursing, a judicious use of her tongue all around the cold, little thing had soon seen to that. She held it in her hand as she had done in the folly. Firm and masculine. Hannah knew what she and Sir Hugh would do.



Soaked To the Skin Pt. 03



The door to the sauna opened, it was Lady Lyanthe, a white towel wrapped around her. And there was Hannah with her hand very clearly grasped around Sir Hugh's cock. Caught almost in flagrante delicto. A few more minutes and almost certainly Hannah would have impaled herself again.

Hannah was more than embarrassed but Lady Lyanthe did not so much as raise an eyebrow.

"Ah, Hannah, did you enjoy your walk? It seems to have been raining whilst I slept. Perhaps you got wet again?"

The delightful ambiguity of the word. Hannah was undoubtedly wet. The heat from the sauna saw to that, damp with perspiration, but of course between her legs the smooth liquid wetness of sexual arousal was there. Very much there.

A slight tug and the white towel slipped from Lady Lyanthe. It would not be fair at all to call Lady Lyanthe fat - but voluptuous would certainly be apt. The years had added a little here and a little there and had left Sir Hugh's wife curvaceous in all the many places. Big breasted with unusually large areolae, not quite like saucers but certainly not pennies! They wobbled as she sat down.

Lady Lyanthe's sex was so very different from Hannah's own; not the revealed mounding of the mons, all naked with the sweet little divide showing, but a profusion of curls - indeed untamed might be an apt description, a striking chestnut colour, curling here there and everywhere. 

Hannah uncertain at the etiquette. Should she unhand Sir Hugh and pass him over to his wife to toss; what was the correct thing to do in the sauna? "It rained a lot - we went into the folly, you know."

"I hope Hugh lit the fire."

"Oh yes. That made it warmer. Not as warm as here though!" It was so much easier talking but should she take her hand off Sir Hugh's cock? It was so big in her hand. She did not dare move it.

"No, the sauna is so right for a damp afternoon. We often come in here. Please, don't let me interrupt. I mean I've done all that so often with Hugh here, it's not like it's new to me!"

"Would you rather...?" It seemed only polite.

"No, no carry on. I am a little fatigued and I am sure Hugh has worked you up a little. He has a way about him. Please do pull on him, my dear, he does so enjoy that."

So strange to be moving Sir Hugh's cock whilst his wife watched, covering and uncovering the shiny dome - to be invited 'to pull' as Lady Lyanthe had quaintly put it. So strange to be watched whilst engaged in sexual play. But Lady Lyanthe did not seem to be paying much attention. Glasses perched on her nose she had begun reading a book.

Sir Hugh continued. "I prefer the hamam. Perhaps I might yet build one. I fancy constructing just a small one perhaps based on the one I saw in Nicosia. We holidayed there a few years ago. Small and intimate but I do think the domed roof has so much more than the pine of the sauna. Studied with small windows letting in the light. I have sketched some plans even."

"Unfortunately Hugh will want the girl masseuse for his day dream. I much prefer the strong young man for the task, don't you Hannah. Naked and oiled. How pleasing for us to lie there and be worked upon - massaged, my dear, massaged!"

Lady Lyanthe smiled at Hannah and mouthed something. To Hannah it seemed she was suggesting Hannah should take Sir Hugh in her mouth. A hint of a wink and back to her book.

Hannah had only first sucked on Sir Hugh's erection a few minutes before and that had really been, she thought, to warm what seemed such a poor little penis. How small and shrivelled they became in the cold. Now though it was standing proud and it would be a much more substantial organ she would slip between her lips. It seemed it was for her to be the instigator of the sex play. Sir Hugh had not yet really touched her at all that day. He had talked a lot and she had both fondled him in the folly - had even impaled herself on his erection - and fellated him in the sauna but he had not so much as caressed a breast. It had frustrated her and built her excitement - the anticipation strong.

"It is certainly nice and warm in here." Her hand slowed and she stared at Sir Hugh's erection and moved her head a little closer. The dome so rounded, so shiny and so close. Such a strange and intimate connection - the wrapping of lips around a man's knob. Up close the thing that had been inside her and most certainly inside Lady Lyanthe many, many times, seemed so strong, swollen and so deliciously masculine. Hannah's lips opened and her tongue slid gently around the smooth skin, wetting them before descending.

As Hannah moved she looked up and saw Lady Lyanthe watching; watching as Hannah's lips slipped over the smooth skin of her husband's knob and then Hannah held it, just the plum head in her mouth, her lips closing just below the corona as if to prevent escape. Lady Lyanthe smiled and nodded encouragingly, though she could not see Hannah's tongue caress and feel just how smooth the skin was - that was hidden.

Lovely to suck on a man, lovely to do so in the heat of a sauna, lovely for Hannah to slide her lips down the shaft taking more and more of it in. Lovely of course to feel the sap rise and drink but Hannah did not want that. She wanted the organ in her properly, wanted to bounce on it again, feel its rugged strength and feel her orgasm building. She did not want it losing its rigidity. How nice it would be to have other men there - what it would be like to be fucked by one whilst she sucked - and drank - another. The situation was all rather wrong - two women and one man. Bring on the young Turks with their long curved sheathless scimitars, what had Sir Hugh said, their penisin sertlešmesi! Would Lady Lyanthe be bothered by them?

Hannah's hand sought Sir Hugh's scrotum, the testes hanging low in the heat, and held. It was all very exciting. Her head bobbed up and down, her mouth like a vagina seeking to be filled; faster and faster as she lost herself in the sexual rhythm. Thoughts of gushing fountains in her head.

Hands on her head lifting her. "Careful, Hannah, my dear. We don't want to lose that erection too soon do we?" It was Lady Lyanthe. "You were getting quite carried away. Understandable. Perhaps you can taste later. Why don't you sit on Hugh's lap? I'd like to see that. No, no, the other way around so I can see better."

Normally - or at least the one time she had had intercourse sitting on a boy's lap - and indeed just recently in the summer house - she had been facing the man: but Lady Lyanthe had her sitting facing away. And before she had pushed the penis into her by herself, but this time it was Lady Lyanthe holding it ready for her, pointing it at her hole so Hannah just had to descend and let it slip back up into her for the second time that day. Lovely to feel herself being opened again. Lovely, at last, to feel Sir Hugh's hands on her breasts manipulating, teasing, pulling.

"Gently now, not too vigorous. Hugh has great staying power but you are very young and sexual, my dear, and you do want to ride him for a little while don't you? Exercise those lovely smooth thighs. We must see you mounted on a horse sometime. You must look very fine in a saddle with - or without - the jodhpurs!"

And ride him Hannah did. So strange to be riding - well fucking - a man whilst his wife was watching and encouraging. So very strange. And then there was the allusion to her riding a horse and the suggestion of riding without jodhpurs. What would it be like to fell the hard leather of the saddle between her naked thighs and against her perhaps completely unprotected sex? Did Sir Hugh or perhaps Lady Lyanthe ride like that sometimes? Surely at least there would need to be restraint to a woman's breasts?

Hannah rode, as Lady Lyanthe put it, Sir Hugh. Up and down the firm pole, her thighs working.

"You know, perhaps, I might after all. If you don't mind." It was so very odd; so very matter of fact; so almost normal; so very genteel as if Lady Lyanthe was deciding, after all, to take a slice of seed cake with her tea.

"No, of course not, I..." What could Hannah say?

"Shall I?" Hannah was fully impaled, Sir Hugh's penis completely inside her, its smooth dome right up to her cervix, her sex deliciously filled and expanded.

"If you wouldn't mind, my dear."

Hannah pushed herself upwards, the muscles of her thighs tightening, and off she came, leaving the erection to fall back against Sir Hugh's stomach all shiny and wet. Embarrassingly wet really. It showed just how excited Hannah was about the whole experience. And, of course, Lady Lyanthe had been able to see it all - the penis embedded, the penis coming out, Hannah's whole sex exposed, open and - it could not be denied - very wet.

It was not missed by Lady Lyanthe. "That looks wonderfully slippery. So nice to be able to borrow a young girl's lubrication! I shall slide just so deliciously."

Lady Lyanthe moved across, her ample body shiny with the heat, and, adopting the same position, slid easily back down Sir Hugh's erection making it disappear once again.

There was something decidedly sexual in Lady Lyanthe's comment. Sex had a lot to do with mixing of fluids - saliva with saliva; semen and girl wetness; saliva and semen; saliva and girl juice - but this was a mixing of the wetness of women plural with, at least at some point in the future, with the semen of a man. It struck Hannah she was being drawn into something else. Two women sharing a man could become very personal indeed. Lady Lyanthe had not asked Hannah to touch her - but would she?

It was clear Lady Lyanthe was a horsewoman. Her thighs were strong and she bounced up and down on Sir Hugh's pole as if she was in a saddle. It would be difficult for her to ride naked without restraint to her breasts thought Hannah again. As she rode, they were bouncing up and down like anything until Sir Hugh reached and held them still in his hands, her large areolae in his palms. Into Hannah's mind came the image of them riding horseback together one in front of the other, Lady Lyanthe holding the reins but Sir Hugh behind and restraining her breasts.

"It is funny, isn't it, Hannah how good a cock feels up you. I suppose, though, it must soon be your turn again."

Her flushed face and enthusiastic bouncing indicated just how much she was enjoying the cock.

"Such a shame we only have the one. I remember how good it was out in India when my good friend, um, Sophie, no need for you to know more, and I would spend happy afternoons chatting away as we each rode one side by side and sometimes, would you believe it, took tea at the same time. Can you imagine that! Hot, hot, ridiculous decadent afternoons but we had so many men to choose from in the barracks. If one came too soon we would just smack him on the bottom and send him drooping - should I say dribbling - away for another! Can you imagine it? Another young cavalry officer arriving all firm and enthusiastic, ready to leave us dripping. But I am hogging Sir Hugh..."

Once more the erection slapped back upon Sir Hugh's stomach as Lady Lyanthe arose. From sitting across from them, Hannah had been able to watch the sliding penis and seen it come out, see Lady Lyanthe open vagina denuded of its visitor before the older woman arose and made space for Hannah. It did not seem any less wet.

"May I?" Lady Lyanthe was holding her husband's erection as Hannah positioned herself. "Down you come, my dear. Yes, in it goes. So naughty seeing his knob push at you. Such a pretty sex you have and such a sweet little clit." Her finger actually touched the little button. " There, in it goes all - the way!"

It was so strange - a sharing of a man's penis and talking during intercourse. 

"When did you first?" A question from Lady Lyanthe.

Hannah rose up the shaft.

"First, err, with a boy?"

Hannah descended.

"Yes my dear, when did you first feel a knob pushing at you - not your or another's fingers or a banana or something. Not trifles but the real thing - a firm erection?"

Hannah reddened; it had all been a bit silly.

In the pause you could hear the squelching sound of the ongoing intercourse.

"Well it wasn't really very long ago. I was going out with this boy. Not anymore. You know how these things happen. Kissing in a bedroom and it all gets a bit carried away. His hand in my blouse. Yes, first time a boy had touched there - them. So nice! Of course he wanted to..."

"Of course. But I expect you did as well, Hannah!"

"Well, maybe, OK, yes. Of course I did. Wanted to see what boys were like. But had he any protection with him? NO! The awful thing was I did. I had a packet of Durex in my knicker drawer. I'd bought it to see what they were like. Awful really for him to see the open packet. I could hardly tell him I'd tried one on a banana to see..."

"And did you... with the banana?"

"Well, I wasn't going to tell him that!"

"Did you?"

"OK... yes!"

"Nicer to have the real thing."

"Isn't it!" And Hannah was sliding on the 'real thing,' the very real big banana of Sir Hugh's erection. And Lady Lyanthe could very much see it.

"I made him put it on before we really started. So unromantic, or not sexy looking back, but I was worried. I got him to take all his clothes off before I did - even his socks - and, dreadfully, I giggled. I think I was a bit embarrassed but yet seeing an erection for the first time sticking out like that. It looked so, well, funny. That put him off and he started to go down."

"So you had to help?"

"Yes. So different from the banana! I held him and he showed me what to do."

"How to wank."

"Well, yes!"

"So very different, not just from the banana but from, well, us women."

"And up he went?"

"Oh yes, and then I got the packet. So funny really. Him, Dave, ripping open the packet and trying to roll it down. He'd got it the wrong way round! But he did get it right the second time and down it rolled. Not really awfully sexy with that teat at the end!"

"No, even less so when it's filled and the thing is half coming off!"

"And I was still dressed and there Dave was, you see, wearing just the Durex!

So strange to be discussing this early experience. Something she would not really have discussed with anyone only a day or so before.

"I let him undress me and then..."

"I think, ladies, I can hold out but a little longer."

Hannah made to rise.

"No, no Hannah." Insisted Lady Lyanthe. "You have it; after all I have felt the lovely sensation of Hugh's spurting many, many times in my own... place - more than I can count I suppose! I remember the first time with a man, oh, so vividly."

Again, what was the right thing to do - ask what happened or treat the statement as complete and needing no elaboration?

"I was a virgin, at a convent school: I knew nothing of men."

Hannah had no need to say anything, it was clear Lady Lyanthe was going to reminisce. Again what was the right thing to do? Do what she so wanted which was ride some more and come whilst feeling Sir Hugh fill her with his semen or sit very still whilst Lady Lyanthe talked? It seemed polite to sit still. It was not easy. Would Sir Hugh hold?

"Though something of women if I am honest. It was nice to cuddle up to a friend in the dorm and talk. We would talk about men and what they might be like and it seemed, you see, so much easier, pleasanter and friendlier to touch your friend rather than yourself. You can understand?"

"Mmmm, oh yes."

What about you?"

"No, not with girls. No, never."

An eyebrow raised.

"It was the boys though that really interested us or the conception of boys. We knew very little. As you can imagine. And our imaginings were plentiful. We had little idea. Not even of the size of their, well, 'equipment'. Even the word 'penis' was exciting to us! We had that so wrong it was laughable looking back. We had such a shock."

Hannah nodded in agreement. It had been a surprise to her as well.

"Unlike you I was not alone when I first... I first saw - and touched."

"Really?"

"No it was not a boyfriend or anything like that. As I said we had no idea of men really, locked away in a convent boarding school. Not even biology books showing cross sections of genitalia; perhaps the most helpful were classical paintings and statues but you know how small the Greeks portrayed the penis. Such little things compared to the reality - as you can feel."

Hannah could feel alright!

Sir Hugh interjected, "Depiction of the male organ as small and tapered with a long foreskin was the fashion with the Ancients. Perhaps, but we do not know, it was to contrast it with the size of the tumescent organ. The Greeks regarded the exposure of the glans penis as inappropriate - rude if you like - due to its connotation with sexual arousal. The depiction as small may have been to emphasise the non-sexual nature of the 'resting' member. Not obscene at all. The large penis regarded as gross and comical whereas the idea of male beauty..."

"My story, I think, Hugh. Not your pontificating on the subject."

"I was with two friends on a country walk. It was near the end of term, a hot June day and we were judged old enough to be allowed out. Ridiculous really. I am sure we were eighteen: not little girls at all! A hot day and the river so tempting for a swim.

We debated the idea. No swimming things. Should we go into the cool water in just bra and panties? But we had seen nobody and it seemed silly to get such things wet. So funny, the three of us naked like that on the river bank; our little piles of clothes left behind as we stepped into the crystal clear, beautifully cool water; giggling a lot I expect, as young girls do. The swimming lovely; and such fun splashing each other with the hot sun beating down and the water droplets shining as they flew.

And then he was there. Right there on the bank, between us and our clothes, looking at us. Just the one man. 'That looks nice,' I think he said. Whether he meant us or the water I wonder thinking back. Well what were we to do? Scream? I think we just sunk lower and tried to talk casually. And then he asked if he could join us.

I think it struck us all at the same time. He meant come in the water and that would mean taking his clothes off. He was not our age. We thought him old but I do not suppose he was really very old at all. We had seen him in the village. He and his wife ran the sweet shop. We knew him and he knew us. I don't think we thought he would just stop at his pants - the phrase 'join us' seemed to imply more. The prospect of seeing a naked man suddenly presented itself to us. We looked at each other and knew exactly what each was thinking. Of course we said yes.

Thinking back it must have been a high point in his life. The opportunity to strip off and expose himself to a group of young girls! And it is not that we did not watch or pretend not to be watching. We just stood in the water and stared. He was facing away from us when his trousers and pants came off. I remember that so clearly, the sudden exposure of his tight buttocks - and then he turned around. Well, I am sure all our mouths were open.

What we had been so keen to see; so very interested to see in the flesh; was nothing like those statues; nothing like it at all! Clearly seeing us and perhaps the undressing had had more than a little effect. He was standing as firm as Hugh is now and there we were down below in the river gazing up at his... I should not say enormous because I don't think in retrospect it was but it seemed something like that to us by comparison. Yes, this great male horn curving up from his pubic hair. And dangling bollocks of course. And standing above us made it all so much more impressive. The male rampant! I think we just stood rooted to the spot as he stood there for a few moments, no doubt he was enjoying the feeling of exposing his manhood to these young girls - to us. Thinking back, the dramatic turning to us must have been deliberate.




Soaked To the Skin Pt. 03



Yes, he definitely paused for a few moments before he climbed down into the river our eyes glued to his penis - his erection. We had not seen such a thing before!

We had no idea it got big like that. I am not sure we even knew it got bigger. I think, and it is difficult remembering back, we knew it got stiff but not like that! We could see, could imagine, the little thing made solid 'going in'. We at least knew that was where it needed to go - but our imaginings were nothing like the reality... the dramatic difference between the supposed and the actuality! I am sure one of use must have whispered something to that effect - the impossibility of it 'going in.' And there it was getting closer, this fleshy horn with its big knob at the end!"

"Did he?"

"He didn't even touch us! Just came into the water. Said something about how cool it was and started swimming as if there was nothing out of the ordinary."

"I thought there'd be more..."

"Not straightaway."

"Ah!"

"No, it all settled down. There was a bit more swimming around. Him talking to us but when he stood up in the river we were amazed to see the horn had gone. It had shrunk away almost to normal - well to us anyway! Ancient Greek size - what we had originally expected."

"One of us, I don't think it was me, must have said something. He cannot have missed where our eyes were looking. I can remember him explaining how the penis worked. He must have appreciated our lack of knowledge. Probably really enjoyed our attention and the opportunity to explain. I mean, being able to talk about his cock to a collection of schoolgirls! Being able to lift it up and show it to us as he talked."

"He explained the effect of cold water and contrasted that with the effect of erotic stimulation. Assured us that the erection really could go into the vagina - I am sure I remember him using the word 'glove' to describe the fit! The idea that we could provoke such a reaction just by a man looking at our bodies."

Hannah had smiled. Boy's magazines gave more than a clue about that!

"We climbed out and had not a towel between us to dry us with but the sun was hot. Imagine us standing on the river bank naked and with this naked man. I don't know if it was him or one of us but the suggestion was made to jump up and down to get dry. Well, that was something; seeing his penis flopping up and down as he jumped but, there again, our breasts bounced and you can imagine what that did to him. Men are so silly about breasts! There we were all jumping up and down - what a sight - and he was getting an erection! We just stared and stared."

"I think it was he who suggested a walk along the river bank to get properly dry. It must have been a high point in his life, walking with a bunch of naked schoolgirls in the sunshine. It was such a funny feeling leaving our clothes behind and just going like that! And we were walking with a man - not just a man but a naked man with this great curving horn! Of course we talked about it; of course, we were fascinated; and of course he suggested we could touch it 'if we liked.' If we liked! You can imagine just how much he must have liked that! Thinking back you can almost imagine him saying 'you can suck it if you like' but we had no idea about fellatio - so virginal it was not true."

"And we certainly took up his offer. First one then another; none wanting to be left out; one hand after another; a tentative touch and then a real 'feel.' The firmness of it let alone the strange feel of those eggs in their wrinkled sack. I wonder if he had to warn us not to squeeze too hard - that funny vulnerability of men. I think I managed more of a feel than most - I think I held him as we walked along but perhaps one each side had a grasp. Of course he kept hard the whole time. Not surprising given - well of course he did - he asked if he could feel our breasts. And that was nice - the first time a man touched us. We must have been so wet actually - and I don't mean from the river! Him holding our breasts in his hands, probably bouncing them and certainly tweaking our nipples. Imagine that. Us all pausing and all that touching."

"We walked back along the river bank and when we got back to our clothes he asked if he could see between our legs and we let him. We lay down and opened our thighs and let him inspect. He must have remembered that for years. Perhaps in bed with his wife - we knew his wife, she was in the shop - he would be thinking back to that hot summer's afternoon when he had three schoolgirls' pudenda spread out for him to view. I can remember him looming over us - with his great horn! And of course he asked if we would like to feel his penis inside us - and we were all too scared! He did not get that from us - he did not take our virginity! We did not take up his offer of only going in 'a little way.' But the feel of his stumpy fingers - ah well - stirring our little nests."

"Did you make him come?" Hannah could not see them all just getting dressed.

"I think he told us we were probably wise not to risk the penis inside because of babies and that lead to him explaining more about semen and ejaculation; he asked if we would like to see that and, what a surprise, we did! I am sure he got us all to work him. I am sure he explained what to do and what was best. What a joy for him. One naked schoolgirl after another, flushed face, bare breasts, pulling at his cock."

"I know what happens, but do tell Hannah where he came. Lyanthe has told me this story before!"

"If men cannot come in your mouth, vagina or bottom where do they most like to come?" Lady Lyanthe asked.

It was a question to Hannah. "I suppose... on your breasts."

"Of course! And the breasts he came on were mine. It was not by my hand but it was on my breasts. We had not let him get his knob near our bits but I said I didn't mind there. I knelt and one of my friends worked him. We were amazed something else could come out of the hole he weed from. We did not really know what to expect. Did not really expect to happen what happened. He'd told us but I don't think we quite believed.

He'd told my friend not to stop moving her fist when he started but to keep going and I think, it might have been Sandy, did not stop. He did warn us it was about to happen but the surprise when these gobs of spunk started spurting was still considerable - and I could feel them raining down on my breasts. I am sure we just stared and stared as his penis produced and did not even look at his gasping no doubt ecstatic face!"

"Of course he thanked us. Said what a lovely surprise and afternoon it had been and as we stood in a group, there was me with my breasts literally dripping cum. I think he hurriedly dressed and was off. We felt so peculiar when we next went in the sweet shop and he didn't say a word about it. Hardly could with his wife there! I expect he went for plenty of country walks but never again... but I don't know - certainly not with us because we were soon away for the summer holidays and away from school for good."

"So there was I on the river bank with this cum all over my breasts and my friends not really knowing quite what to say about it. I think, but I cannot honestly remember, I hugged each in turn so our breasts were squashed together and we all ended up as messy as each other - three schoolgirls with sticky, spunky shiny breasts."

"I wish I could have seen that!" 

"I am sure you do, Hugh - and would have liked to make them the stickier!"

"So you had to go in the river again?"

"I expect so - and walk up and down to dry again."

"Without anything to hold on to?"

"I think we all actually masturbated together but it is a long time ago."

"Nice to imagine," said Sir Hugh, "three naked schoolgirls working themselves up on the river bank - fingers between thighs - did you help each other?"

"Hugh!"

But Hannah noticed Lady Lyanthe did not really answer the question.

There seemed to have been a suitable gap. Perhaps a time for Sir Hugh to become a little less 'excited' though, there again, possibly not with the idea of the three schoolgirls on the riverbank fresh in his mind! For Hannah her excitement had not abated one jot - the story had been erotic for her and she was desperate to be moving again. Desperate to feel that wonderful sliding sensation of a cock moving within her. Hannah's thighs began to work once more. Not fast but sufficient to give relief - the piston was in motion again.

"Have you ever held more than one, Hannah my dear?"

"What?"

"Penes, penises," interjected Sir Hugh.

"No, not at once. Why have..."

"I remember once in a sauna in Denmark having my hands full of the most delightful cocks sprouting from two of the most delicious Nordic men I have ever met."

"Did you?"

"No, no, it was all a bit surreptitious, cocks pulled from under towels. It was not the done thing. I remember so clearly how they came together in my hands, one spurting over my left thigh as the other did the same on the other side. Absolutely together, they really were, yes so good to see and that lovely feeling of warm drops of semen all on my skin. They were only just tucked back in cover - the penises I mean, not yet fully 'down' - when in came another woman. We were all covered in towels but she must have seen the tell tale droplets all over my lower thighs and knees. You could not really miss what it was - and there was a lot of it I can tell you! What she must have thought of me! She frowned a lot - perhaps she was jealous."

"And did you ever?"

"No, alas I never saw them again. I would so liked to have been fucked by them - the two together, yes, them and me in bed for a whole weekend! Such a handful! You must, though, Hannah at your age try sex with several - yes with more than one boy at a time - it is wonderful. All that hardness to play with - all that cum if you like that. Do you?"

"I..."

"Sir Henry bought me a ridiculous book - 'Natural Harvest' - I shall show it to you. It is about cooking with, how shall I put it, cum."

"No!"

"Though the man made oysters - yes, that is all there is in the shells, well, perhaps with a little lemon and pepper - are hardly cooked! Not at all. There are other recipes though. It is funny and erotic all at the same time."

Hannah did not know what to say. That could not be so.

"Harvesting would be fun I think. We might get sore wrists!"

Hannah had to laugh.

And all the time Hannah was going up and down on Sir Hugh. Such a lovely feeling but so strange to be talking and fucking - still stranger to be talking with two people and one, indeed. the wife of the person she was copulating with!

Sir Hugh certainly had staying power. The day before he had described it to her as a problem of age but to Hannah it was anything but a problem. A cock she could ride for a long time without it suddenly coming and going limp on her - lovely!

"Do you want to change position like..." Should she mention yesterday when Sir Hugh had taken her from behind? It was still difficult to mention such things with Lady Lyanthe present.

"Hugh I do think it really is time for you to release. The poor girl is getting tired."

It was not actually what she meant.

"Of course, my love."

Hands on her breasts, a pushing against her and then she felt it and in her mind's eye could see it: the cock suddenly spurting semen just like the man on the riverbank - the hot liquid within her. Pulse after pulse. It had taken Sir Hugh a long time to come but he was coming very well indeed. Hannah did her best, bouncing as fast as she could to really milk the pleasure from Sir Hugh.

Breathing heavily, her skin awash with perspiration in the heat of the sauna Hannah came to a stop. Her vigorous riding done. She turned and smiled at Lady Lyanthe, feeling herself almost on fire with the sex. It was lovely, it had been lovely. Only she had not quite...

"But you haven't come my dear."

"Well nearly...Oh!"

It was unexpected, so unexpected. Astride and facing away from Sir Hugh, her sex was so open and so exposed and within it there was the still inserted, still hard, penis. Hannah was open and vulnerable and Lady Lyanthe had simply crouched down on the wooden slatted floor and, almost before Hannah realised what was happening, was lapping - using her tongue right on Hannah's sex ranging from the embedded penis to her clit. It was unexpected but so sexual, such a lovely soft rasping on her exposed and erect clit. Held by Sir Hugh, Hannah was soon coming, there was no stopping it. There was the strong feel of Sir Hugh's hands manipulating her breasts, the still present feeling of a cock in her vagina and the strong wet stimulation of a tongue on her clit. No, there was no stopping the climax!

"Oh, I, Oh..."

What could Hannah do? She had not expected this help, this feminine help from Lady Lyanthe. All she could do was accept and come - and come she did! Pushing herself against the now shrinking penis and the probing tongue. As she came, Lady Lyanthe stuck to her task sucking on her little clit as the electric waves of orgasm came and came.

Coming down from Cloud 9, Hannah could still feel Lady Lyanthe at her sex. Her eyes opened wide in surprise. Lady Lyanthe's tongue was in, not at, but in her vagina. Another woman had her tongue in her vagina! Pushing in alongside Sir Hugh's still present but now thinner cock.

Lady Lyanthe rose. "Look, my dear, what I have found!"

On the tip of her tongue - undoubted semen, creamy and fresh from Sir Hugh - fresh, what was more, from Hannah's own vagina.

Lady Lyanthe was close; without really thinking Hannah put out her tongue and they touched tongue to tongue and then they kissed; tongues in each other's mouth and the semen shared. Hannah had not tasted Sir Hugh before. It was so salty on her tongue.

She had not kissed a woman like that before either. She was doing things she had not expected to do that day. Hannah knew it was Sir Hugh's doing; knew she had fallen under a spell in that workman's hut; she knew this for certain but liked it; her tongue played with its sister.

"Well," said Lady Lyanthe, "time for tea, I should think." So ordinary and matter of fact after the copulation.

"But you haven't - you haven't..."

"My dear, you should know. Orgasm is not every time and Sir Hugh looks rather incapable at the moment. Not really 'up' to it!"

"No, I suppose not."

"Unless, of course, you would like to..."

It was left unsaid. Hannah had not meant anything of the sort but it must have seemed very like an offer to Lady Lyanthe. It must have given very much that appearance. It was rather difficult to back out once the statement had been made. Not least considering what Lady Lyanthe had just done to her!

"Perhaps my bedroom. I am beginning to find it a little hot in here."

It was unbelievable. Hannah was being led by the hand, being led by a naked Lady Lyanthe up through the house to Sir Hugh and Lady Lyanthe's bedroom, to where she was going to be expected to 'go down' - engage in lesbian sex - on Lady Lyanthe. It could hardly be anything else.

The bedroom door closed behind them and another kiss. Breast to breast. Hannah could feel the hardness of Lady Lyanthe's nipple pushing at her own. A nipple catching against another nipple, a sensual caress. Not quite believable to Hannah - was she really doing this? Lady Lyanthe not quite falling back on the bed but taking Hannah with her so she was lying upon her.

Hannah was lying skin to skin atop another women face to face, breast to breast, tummy to tummy, sex to sex as if she was the man atop a woman readying himself for intercourse. Their mounds together and then Lady Lyanthe's legs were up around her, ankles locked around Hannah's back; their curly hair intermingled; and then they began to move, rubbing against each other. Missionary sex without the penis. So strange to be like that with a women; their bodies so slippery from the perspiration of the sauna; Lady Lyanthe's tongue in her mouth.

And then the rotation. Hannah finding her head between Lady Lyanthe's thighs, Lady Lyanthe's wet sex before her and Hannah just doing what she so liked the boys to do to her. It was not something she had to learn - she knew exactly what to do. And as her tongue probed so did Lady Lyanthe's - back where it had been before.

The sex was passionate, the tonguing enthusiastic - the outcome orgasmic.

Hannah rose, her face flushed and awash with Lady Lyanthe's copious lubrication. Lady Lyanthe drew her towards her on the bed and they kissed.

"Very nice my dear, I did so enjoy that. Did you?"

And Hannah could but say the truth - she had indeed.

"Perhaps that cup of tea now? Shall we shower first?"

Dressed again in her little grey dress, afternoon tea just seemed so ordinary after the events of the afternoon. It was really nice: lovely with scones, jam and cream and everything but just so 'normal' with everyone dressed again. The conversation was just so what you might expect over tea: interesting certainly but not a hint of the erotic, no detailed exposition by Sir Hugh on some theme - the eroticism of the teapot or the like. Hannah could just imagine Sir Hugh being able to talk on just that topic and explain how the spout represented the penis and the filling of teapot was...

"Hannah, my dear, would you mind if Hugh copulated with you again before you go? He might be less of a nuisance when it is bed time. I am sure he would like to take you in that pretty dress. Shall I hold your panties?"

Hannah's thought was broken. She had been thinking of sex again, just at the moment the subject was broached once more by her hosts. Certainly she was not averse to the idea: there was something about being with Sir Hugh which just made her feel - what was the word - yes, lascivious.

So unreal again. Standing in the marble floored hallway in her grey dress and slipping her panties down as her hosts watched and then handing them to Lady Lyanthe.

"Perhaps if you hopped up on this table."

Hannah did as she was told. The table almost suspiciously at the right height for the task, a beautiful table with concave sides to its beautifully polished top - Walnut perhaps - adding further convenience to the act.

"Open your pretty legs - there's a good girl."

Lady Lyanthe's fingers at Sir Hugh's fly extracting the organ and bringing it into the open and working it to erection. Sir Hugh in his tweeds but with his not unimpressive erection sticking out of his trousers. Just so unreal to see - a respectable married couple immaculately dressed yet with the woman holding the man's erection in one hand and Hannah's panties in the other and all out in the open in the beautiful hall of this country house - and there she was, Hannah Hutchings sitting on a table in her little grey dress, thighs apart and with the material pulled up so far that almost certainly Sir Hugh could see her panty less sex.

And it was Lady Lyanthe who guided the connection, brought her husband over to Hannah, ensured the knob entered and then carefully unbuttoned the dress and lifted Hannah's breasts out just lightly brushing the nipples to ensure they were standing and, in effect, handing them to her husband. And there she was once more with Sir Hugh, Hannah's third copulation with the man in less than two days. A man she had not known until the day before. 

It was not a difficult entry at all, not with what had been happening that afternoon. Sir Hugh's knob had touched Hannah's soft moist flesh and been pushed in by Lady Lyanthe before Sir Hugh had taken over and slid fully home. There Hannah was, her bottom resting on the polished wood, her thighs spread for a man and with the coarse feel of the tweed against them: but anything but a coarse feel where it mattered. Hannah was once more delightfully speared.




Soaked To the Skin Pt. 03



Hannah could not help wondering who else had been taken on that very table. Had young serving girls been regularly worked by the young or not so young master of the house in days gone by? Who had Sir Hugh himself taken there - perhaps a young Lady Lyanthe newly returned from honeymoon, a rather different carrying over the threshold from the conventional and had a deferential butler stood by holding Lady Lyanthe's panties as Lady Lyanthe held hers?

So nice to feel the regular strokes of a firm and sizeable erection within her: the feel in her vagina, the pull on her clit and Sir Hugh's fingers to her breasts. Slightly disconcerting to realise Lady Lyanthe could hear the wet sounds of intercourse but it was not as if she was unaware of what was happening. She was not exactly hearing the sounds of illicit intercourse taking place in the next room!

"Do make sure you come before Hugh, dear Hannah."

"Yes, Lady Lyanthe, of course."

Hannah did not want to disappoint her hostess and closed her eyes to concentrate on the feelings. And they were certainly very nice feelings!

"Are you close?"

"Yes, Lady Lyanthe."

"Be vocal - be loud."

Hannah did not like to disappoint or be other than obedient. She was a guest. Normally she would have stifled her groans but she let herself go. It was strange to hear the echoes of her own gasps in the hall and, as the orgasm came, her screams echoing. That seemed to set Sir Hugh off and as the feeling of orgasm subsided he began thrusting against her with force making her bottom slide on the polished table top as he emptied himself once more into her.

It was time to go home. As Hannah sat there on the table, with Sir Hugh still embedded, the sun came out sending shafts of bright sunlight into the hall.

"It looks like it will be fine for your bicycle ride home. No need for the cagoule, my dear. You must come again. It has been a delightful afternoon. Has it not, Lyanthe?"

Such ordinary pleasantries yet as he spoke Sir Hugh stepped backwards breaking the connection with Hannah.

Lady Lyanthe stepped forward and lightly kissed Hannah on the cheek, "Yes indeed. You must come for dinner. We have such fun parties, such interesting people."

Sir Hugh put out his hand and helped Hannah alight from the table, the light grey material of her dress dropping easily to cover her thighs. Hannah buttoned her dress putting away her breasts and restoring an appearance of decorum - if the flush to her cheeks could be ignored. Sir Hugh opened the door and they stepped out into the sunshine. A chaste kiss from Sir Hugh, and Hannah picked up her bike and, waving, stepped over it and pushed off, her bottom rising and planting itself on the saddle.

She turned and waved again and there were Sir Hugh and Lady Lyanthe waving with, incongruously, Sir Hugh's flaccid penis still hanging out of his fly.

Down the gravelled drive she rode, the clouds still present above her but becoming white as more blue sky appeared. The late afternoon was going to be glorious.

"Bother!" Hannah had forgotten her panties. She had left them behind. But it seemed stupid to go back and, actually, it was rather nice riding free; the air cooling her recent excitement; pleasant to feel the air on her sex..

Near the gate the thin summer cotton of her dress blew up which made Hannah giggle. She would have to be more careful on the road on the way home!

Hannah did not see the watching gardener. He smiled to himself, noting the sudden intimate glimpse. Not unnaturally he thought it would have been a pleasant thing to have fertilised such a well tilled patch that very afternoon, indeed planted his seeds there whilst the weather had made sowing difficult in the garden. He suspected Sir Hugh might well have been playing the gentleman gardener that afternoon and it would have been very pleasant to have assisted his master and done some of the hard work himself. 

The gardener liked to see a lawn close mown and he liked his women the same - their private hair close shaved. He was more than happy to mow their lawns and he was careful to keep his blades sharp.

Back up the driveway, through the entrance pillars and up the road to home rode Hannah in her little grey dress but there were no panties beneath. No thin cotton separating her from the saddle. Her sex was, this time, well and truly planted on the leather of the bicycle seat, a sex that had been rather well used that afternoon, a sex feeling pleasantly warm and not a little sticky from all the activity. A nice feeling for a young girl to have been so recently engaged in the pleasant act of copulation and to feel what the man had left behind for her. The bicycle seat would notice the difference. Sir Hugh had indeed remarked, as she had got on and smoothed the dress around her, about the peculiar intimacy a leather saddle had with a girl rider. Hannah laughed as she turned at the corner, the leather intimate with her sex, Sir Hugh really did have a way with him.