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Harold Has a Slutty Stepdaughter

By: sirhugs



"What am I going to do about my stepdaughter? She's such a sexy slut."

"Why are you asking me, Harold?"

"Well, Marcy is pretty sexy, so you must have had to deal with the same sorta stuff."

"What stuff is that Harold?"

"I can't help noticing her."

"How old is she?"

"Lori just turned eighteen. As soon as the court custody order in favour of her Dad expired, she asked if she could move in with us, because her Dad was too strict. Wouldn't even let her wear a bikini. Now it seems as if that's all she ever wears. Before, when she came to visit, she'd be wearing really conservative stuff, since that was all he bought for her."

"Which was good, since she was jailbait."

Harold paused and ran a grimy handkerchief across his sweaty pink brow. With his kiss curl of white hair, he looked a lot like a cherub perched on his bar stool, looking across at the hotel swimming pool. I wondered how Lori compared to the pretty young things sunning poolside, or cavorting in the water. One spectacular blonde was having fun bouncing up and down batting a beach ball, her firm tits popping up wetter and with more erect nipples each time. As we watched, sipping our drinks, a boy - a young man - her own age, dunked her. When she resurfaced, her bikini top was askew, one inch long stiff pink nipple briefly displayed for all to see. It seemed to me that she paused a bit before covering up.

"Did she look like that?" I gestured with my cocktail. Further down, my cock was pulsing, enjoying the teasing idea of a bit of tail.

"Better."

"No wonder you couldn't resist looking. How does she behave?"

"She's a little tease. She glances over her shoulder, as if she wants to know that I'm watching, before she undoes her top to suntan. I've noticed that if I'm not visible, she lays down on the blanket first and undoes the top. Then, all that's visible is the side of her melons. Which, by the way, are fine and ripe. Rather juicy looking."

Harold paused, sipping his drink, and wiped the sweat off of his brow. It was odd that he was perspiring so heavily, in the air conditioned hotel.

"So if she thinks I'm watching, she takes the top off before she lies down," he continued. Harold always had really pink skin, so it would be a stretch to say he was blushing, but his Adam's apple was definitely bobbing nervously. "Depending on the angle, I get a good view of her whole breast, even the nipple."

"Do they tend to be aroused, like that girl's?"

Harold squinted into the sun, his poor eyesight a lifelong curse. Maybe that explained his attraction to Lori's rather plain, plump Mom. 

"Lori has very puffy nipples, and her tits are even firmer I think than that gal's. Sometimes, before she lies down, Lori cups both breasts in her palms and lifts them, caressing the softness for a moment. A few times, she has even rolled her fingers up and played with her nipples."

My cock was fully erect. I glanced over towards the pool, where the live entertainment was stretching catlike, rolling slightly on her cot, her ass two perfect globes, tanned flesh left exposed by the skinny string of the thong, which was fully hidden inside her butt cleavage. It was amazing that a family hotel allowed such an outfit. Even more so that her parents allowed it. Mind you, they were not anywhere in sight. Maybe like Harold's stepdaughter, this young vixen liked to be naughty when she slipped the leash.

"Does she do this when she knows you are watching?"

"I think she knows. She gets a dreamy little smile on her face. Her hand sometimes drops slowly down her tummy. She tends then to lightly caress that curvy flesh with just the tips of her fingers."

We both paused, looking across at the girl by the pool. "Well, that's not so bad," I said, trying to be supportive, but not really thinking, since all the blood had abandoned my head for my smaller brain in my pants.

Harold sipped his drink, and then spoke again. "If she stopped there it would be fine."

That caught my attention and I turned from looking at the pool. "What else happened?"

"Eventually, Lori didn't stop at just rubbing her belly. Her finger tips started roaming lower and running across ...across..." 

Good old Harold was beet red, unable to spit out the next part, so I continued for him. "Across her pussy?"

"Yes."

"Inside or outside of her bikini?"

"The first few times, she just quickly caressed her mound with a few strokes on top of the fabric, almost as if by accident. After that, though, the fingertips started slipping inside the top edge, but again, so fleetingly that if I blinked I would miss it."

"But you didn't blink."

"I froze. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to stare. If she wasn't aware I was watching, I didn't want to upset her. I didn't want her to think I'm a dirty old perv."

"Of course not, because then she might stop."

My little joke relaxed Harold, who chuckled. His shoulders settled into a soft position, he spread his knees apart, comfortable for the first time since we started the conversation. His cheeks blushed red, however. While he stared into his half empty glass, I snuck my hand to my lap and adjusted my cock, allowing my erection to bloom fully within my shorts.

"But she didn't stop," Harold finally said.

"How far did she go?" I immediately regretted pushing things too quickly.

"She arranged herself on that lounge chair, as if she was all alone, rather than in public. She reached underneath herself, arching her back just so slightly. That lifted her tits up off the chair. The whole side was exposed to me. Her nipples were so stiff; I thought they might break the chair."

"I bet they weren't all that was stiff."

This time, Harold chuckled agreement, settling into his story, no longer embarrassed.

"I still wasn't sure if she knew I was watching, but I no longer cared. I was frozen there, as her hand slid down her hard toned belly, pausing to toy with the jewel dangling from her navel. Then she pushed her hand down her lower belly."

"Her fingers disappear into the swimsuit then? Block your view?"

"No, she scrunched the fabric down. I couldn't really see her gash, just enough to know that there was just the slightest hint of hair on either side of her lips."

I stared across at the young woman in front of us. As Harold joined me in admiring the marvels of youth I muttered, "They couldn't wear those bikinis with natural hair."

"No, then they'd be like our wives, wearing one pieces, or bottoms that cover their whole belly."

"Regardless of the swimsuit they wear, I can't imagine either of our wives touching their pussies in public."

"Well, Lori wasn't really in public, it was our backyard pool. I was the only one there, and she was still pretending she didn't know I was watching. Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe she only looked in my direction by accident, and really thought she was alone."

"Did she act like she was alone?"

"Well, you tell me. After she bared her cunt, though of course, it was well hidden by her supple thighs close to the chair, she used her forefinger and ring finger to pull her petals wide open. At that point, she raised her hips higher by bending her knees, so that she was almost squatting on the lounger."

"While you were thanking yourself for having gone to the expense of the pool."

"How did you know?"

"Isn't that why husbands agree to build pools? Because the kids will grow up and someday invite a bunch of hard bodied gals over? Though I guess some guys hope for more immediate payoff from scoping out the sister or such. A slutty stepdaughter is an added bonus, like winning a lottery."

"In my case, the pool came with the house, sort of like the slutty stepdaughter came with the wife. Anyhow, as soon as she had herself nicely spread, she eased down onto her hand and it got harder to see just what she was doing."

"I bet that wasn't all that got harder."

Harold still blushed, but his chuckle was deeper, more assertive.

"How can a red blooded man not react to a display like that? Especially once her hips started bouncing up and down, as if she was fucking her hand. Slowly and gently at first, her knees close together, lightly rubbing, like the first tentative strokes of a cock into her tight young pussy."

The young woman by the pool who was adding fuel to the fire of this reminiscence was not quite so bold, but she had crossed her ankles over, and her well oiled knees were slipping around. It was easy to imagine the effect of the friction of fabric on flower. From there, my brain leapt back to the image of Harold's stepdaughter doing something similar, but with her fingers, and arching her back, rather than lying on her back. Both images – a well formed young ass thrusting up at me, and an open young lap - appealed, though I wished that the young gal across the way would uncross those knees, push her bikini aside, and open wide for us.

"I hope she didn't stop there," I said, referring to Lori, but thinking about the one we were watching.

"Of course not. She buried her head in the towel and proceeded to drive her fingers deep into her pussy. First, she slid a single digit in, slowly. I think she might have paused briefly to tweak her clit out from where it hid inside its hood. She was doing something with her thumb"

"Where were the binoculars when you needed them?"

"You got that right."

"Did she look to see if you were watching?"

"At first, I think her eyes were closed. Her face was almost buried in the lounge chair. After a while, though, she twisted around and then she opened her eyes wide just before she sighed and sort of collapsed onto her fingers, but that leaves out the in between action."

Once again, I paused, sipped my drink and watched the live action while wondering what to say next. "Too bad that one over there isn't quite as daring," I said to fill the silence.

Harold shifted in his seat. His arm twitched, as if he might be resisting reaching down to adjust a swollen member. I fought the urge to glance at his lap to see whether he was as excited by the combination of story and scenery as I was. But that would be 'too gay', as my stepdaughter liked to use the phrase. Harold noticing my erection would be bad enough. Harold seeing me checking him out would put him on the spot. I also knew that I had to prolong the time on the bar stool, because the moment I stood, everyone in the vicinity would see what a dirty old perv I was. So I had to keep Harold talking. No matter if the chatter was what was making me hard in the first place. At that point, though, I almost choked on my drink as I realized that if I wasn't careful, I would ejaculate right there, staining my shorts, and really embarrass myself.

"So what happened in between?" I finally sputtered. Best keep the focus on the past, not the present.

"Hmm, ..." Harold stared off into space, a grin slowly spreading across his cherubic face. "Well, you know how she was stabbing those fingers into her pussy? Seemed to prove a bit tough once she was prone on the lounge chair. For a while, she happily bumped and humped her ass into the air, at first just half an inch to an inch, and then further with each stroke.

"Did that really get your cock going?"

"Yeah, my balls were just a-humming."

With that comment, a line seemed to have been crossed. Harold casually dropped his hand into his lap and adjusted his package. My eyes followed automatically. I noted that his swollen member appeared fat, but not extra long. It also was heavy, engorged like mine was.

I held back a bit, and adjusted my cock while Harold was staring into the distance and resuming his recollection.

"So Lori was building up a nice sweaty glow, trying to use two then three fingers like a cock, while flicking her thumb up against her clit. By then, I was wondering whether or not I had enough privacy to pull out my own sex gland and play along. From that safe distance at least."

"And did you?"

"Of course."

"Could she see it?"

"I never asked her. But if she looked, she surely saw my shoulders moving. And only a nun would have failed to catch the significance."

I looked over at the live young lady. It took effort to remember that Harold's confessional had begun as a sincere attempt at soliciting advice. The hotness of his story, plus the reality of the scenery, had changed the situation. She had uncrossed her ankles, and was idly stroking her left shoulder. In my mind, I was bold enough to walk right over and kiss that spot, and then work my lips along her collarbone to that dent at the base of her throat. I would lick up to her chin, running the flat of my tongue out under her jaw, and then drop a kiss on her chest at the exact point where the emerging swell of her firm young tits met as the rose from her upper chest. All this was only in my imagination. In real life, some young stud might get that chance, but not an old perv like me.

"Where was your wife?"

"At that point, who cared?"

Our laughter had the relaxation normally limited to golf courses and sports teams.

"How long did she fuck herself like that?"

"Time wasn't happening. It was like one of those slow motion movies. After a while, she settled her hips down trapping her hand against the chair, still buried in her pussy. Now I don't know whether I watched for a minute or five, or thirty seconds, before that point. Once she did that, she used her other hand to start pulling on the thong, making it go up tighter into her butt. I guessed that she was looking for some anal stimulation."

"It must have taken all your self control not to just walk over and stick your hard cock up her ass, since that was what you both wanted."

Harold chuckled loudly. "I can tell that you understand my situation. I picked just the right guy to talk to."

I raised my glass, silently toasting us, our perversity and our lovely stepdaughters. In fact, of course, I was also toasting the poolside beauty, and using the pause to once again admire her curves. I wondered whether she enjoyed ass play. In my mind, my assault of her had advanced from the sweet swell of her breasts to cupping the bottom sides in either hand, popping them out of her bikini top. Would she object if my hands then slipped smoothly along her sides, settling around the curve of her bottom, pulling her cheeks wide, and then sliding a finger into her anus? Would I find it well lubed, dampened with anticipation and the effects of the titty play? I realized I might never find out, so returned my focus to Harold.

"Too bad you couldn't see her nipples. I imagine they were drilling into the chair," I mused.

"As she humped, even though she stopped lifting fully away from the lounger, I had a great view of the sides of her tits, almost to the buds. Young women still have that natural tone that their mothers lose. So, even though I couldn't see those parts, the motion of flesh was quite entertaining. It had a hard time competing for my attention, with what her fingers were doing to her pussy. I had to start really using my imagination, because for a time, she was lying flat with her whole hand hidden by her hip. Only the elbow movement suggested what she was doing. The pace slowed, then sped up, then settled into a steady rhythm. Then as she picked up the tempo again, she started thrashing her body and tossing her head, back, then to the side."

"So she wasn't watching you watching her?"

"Not the whole time."

"Did she know what you were doing?

Harold chuckled. "With my hand, you mean, or my mind? I doubt she could see my shoulder action. The rest of me was hidden. But the show was too dramatic to be accidental. I think she would have been disappointed if she didn't excite me. Though I suppose that a young woman might find it gross to realize what appreciation means and more than validating her attractiveness for her own ego. No matter how gross they tell their girlfriend that old pervs are, they keep vamping anyway."

"How long did this go on?"

"Oh, a good while, since luckily no one else was around. I haven't often watched a woman masturbate, and I didn't have a great view of just what Lori was touching then, but the way she started thrashing about, I couldn't hold on much longer. I shot my mess into a wad of tissue. It was so intense that my whole body tensed up and quivered. Even my eyes shut themselves, as everything drew in tight and then burst outwards with a huge explosion."

Did Lori notice?"

"I hope not. I think I grunted, but after I was done, I opened my eyes and saw that she had just collapsed in a heap on the chair and seemed to sleep there until her Mom got home and woke her up."

"Did your wife know what happened?"

"No, and flushed it. All that happened was Lori got shit for sunbathing topless."

"How did she take that?"

"She told her Mom that now that she was eighteen, she'd sunbathe how she wanted."

"Mmmm. I wish that applied to the pretty young thing over there."

Harold grinned and drained his drink. "Maybe if we wait a while, she might. And if not, we get another drink anyway."

"But what you've told me so far hardly qualifies your stepdaughter as a slut."

Harold chuckled. "Oh, there's a lot more to tell, so settle back." 

Harold Has a Slutty Stepdaughter Ch. 02



"So, Harold, did Lori ever do more with you than flaunt her body and masturbate as if she did not know you were watching?"

Our next round of drinks arrived and my old pal Harold, paused until the bartender moved away before answering. It wouldn't be seemly for two middle aged men to be overheard discussing the sexual appeal of one's step daughter. That might be grounds for the resort to ban us from poolside, where our view of some barely legal hot body had primed Harold's pump of recollections.

I knew the answer, since Harold had conceded that there was more to the story, and I was confident that he was not just trolling for me to treat him to a round, while we admired the scenery. 

Harold allowed the suspense to build, leaving my question hanging while he sipped his drink. Finally, he tilted his glass in the direction of the young lass poolside, who was rhythmically rotating her hips, one hand trapped under her body.

"Think she's dreaming about a date with an older man last night?" he asked.

"More likely a young stud that ate her for breakfast. She's awfully daring for out in public."

"Or else, she's really sleeping, just like Lori pretended to be the first time that I watched her with my cock in my hand."

"So did Lori know you were watching then?"

"We never talked about it, but her actions later essentially admitted that she knew I was there."

"Were all her actions part of a show for you, at least after she knew you were watching?"

"No, at least I don't think so. She was just a horny little woman, taking her newly budded legal body for a test drive by the pool. I doubt that it made any difference." Harold grinned. "Since then, I've seen her behave just the same way with strangers, and even flash at the mall. So I'm guessing it didn't creep her out that her step dad was perving over her. Her sluttiness left open the door for more."

"Did she know about your jerking off?"

"She kept her eyes shut most of the time while she fingered her soaked pussy. She was past caring who watched or what they did quickly." Harold chuckled. "Though she did say that there was a hot young lifeguard that she hoped might come on duty."

"Not a fat old man?"

"Old guys are easy."

We both raised our drinks and clinked them to toast that truism.

"She was not attracted to you then?"

As I asked I turned to check out the young lass who had inspired our conversation. She rolled over onto her side, oblivious to how this exposed her breasts to people. Since this was a family hotel, I was sure someone would demand that she cover up. Until then, my eyes were glued to her ripe mounds, which did not sag at all. In fact, the tips seemed to be trying to climb skyward in defiance of gravity.

Just as quickly as she had exposed herself, the girl turned over onto her chest again, leaving her fine rump stuck up in the air. The smooth flesh cheeks was sun bronzed, evidence of long hours in at least a thong, or perhaps bottomless. If she had any pubic hair, it would have poked out, since the tiny string that secured her thong was buried deep in her ass cleavage, providing no modesty at all. So clearly she was shaved in front. I drank in this vision for as long as my breath lasted. A shiver ran down from my shoulders through my spine straight to my groin. My cock stirred hungrily as I watched. I slowly lowered my drink to the bar and surreptitiously brushed my hard on through my pants with the back of my hand. This sent the current coursing back upwards through the hairs on my arm, up to my brain.

"No tan lines," Harold muttered, confirming that I had not just been hallucinating. 

"How are Lori's tan lines?" I asked, trying to distract from the immediate subject before my neediness became overwhelmingly urgent. I struggled to keep my breathing even, afraid that I might explode in my clothes.

"I got any even better look at them close up that same night. I think she did it on purpose. She waited until she knew that I was in my den and darted across from her room to use the shower."

"Why would that be intentional?"

"Because she had two other showers closer to her room, and not only chose that one, but stripped in her room first."

"Not even a towel?"

Harold chuckled, rattled his ice, made eye contact with the bartender, waggled his finger for two more drinks, and glanced at the scenery gal, all while I held my breath in anticipation.

"That was the oddest part. She had a little white hand towel clutched across her chest, hiding her nipples, but her bottom was totally bare. Then she didn't close the bathroom door, so when she dropped the towel, I saw how excited her nipples were. I could smell her arousal, or maybe I just imagined that. Either way, it makes no difference. The house was heavy with intention. Of course, I could definitely tell then that she had been totally exposed to the sun."

"Or a tanning booth."

"Oh, I doubt that, not my Lori."

I smiled at his use of the possessive, yet I still hesitated to ask forcefully just how much of his stepdaughter Harold had possessed. How much of that, I wondered, was jealousy, and how much was wishing to savour each detail? 

As I pondered this imponderable, I observed the side show by the pool. The young woman rolled over onto her back, allowing me, Harold and anyone else, a lingering look at her tits. They looked natural, but were so round and firm that it was hard to be sure, the size of half a cantaloupe each. The nipples were darker than cherries, and pointy, begging to be pulled. My hand shook with desire as I fought the impulse to reach out, like a little kid wanting candy even when it is beyond reach.

I sighed with relief when she dropped her bikini top over her chest, hiding only the tips of her mounds, but easing my pain. 

"Think she likes us looking at her tits?" Harold asked.

"She probably doesn't realize that we are here, or she'd think that we are tired smelly hairy pervs, not the college jock sorts she might desire at all."

"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion," Harold chuckled. "Some young babes would like nothing more than an older guy who knows just how to snake their tongue inside their thighs, lovingly caressing the almost virginal flesh, not roughly, but hard enough not to tickle. Young guys either rush towards the honey pot, or just lack technique. Or so I'm told."

His blush was deepest crimson. Of course, only Lori could have told him this. To reach that level of intimacy required a lot more than flashing. 

To reduce his embarrassment, but continue my pleasure, I returned to his earlier narrative. "You were telling me about Lori coming in to use your shower," I prompted, as if he had not gotten ahead of the story.

"Oh, right. Well, I told you how she dropped the towel away from her nipples. I could feel my cock recovering quickly, as if I was her age again, not like the old perv I am. She then bent down to smooth the towel across the floor like a bath mat. I didn't know where to look. Her perfectly tanned ass was prominently thrust towards me, her legs spread just wide enough that her gash was winking at me. But those ripe tits were dangling low, peeking over at me from between her knees and under her arms, and I knew that if I leaned over just a bit, they would be in better view."

"But you had already had a good look at them."

"Not from that angle."

We both laughed heartily, amused by the silly fascination men have with every detail of mammaries.

"She lingered there much longer than she really needed to, and at that moment, I knew for sure that she was enjoying teasing me."

"So you felt less creepy?"

Another, deeper chuckle. "What I felt then had nothing to do with creepy. My cock was surging, not crawling, I'll tell you. All snake, not worm, even though I had just cum a few minutes before. I felt twenty again. Then, Lori gave her ass a little shimmy. There was absolutely no reason for that except to tease me."

"What did you do then?"

"Without even pausing to think, my hand dropped to my cock. If I had stopped to contemplate the action, I might have drawn a line there, but my balls knew best."

I realized that as Harold spoke, my hand was imitating his words. My palm was filled with my scrotum, through the fabric of my pants. My shaft was bulging, trying to burst through my zipper. I looked over towards the pool again, where the young temptress was now rubbing her hands slowly around her tummy. The right one rotated up, tantalizingly close to cupping the underside of her boob, as the left hand dipped lower than her waist, fingers almost touching the scant fabric covering her presumably hairless pussy. 

"But then Lori stepped into the shower," I prompted, not taking my eyes off of the show in front of us. 

"Not right yet," Harold responded. "First, as she stood up, she totally blew her cover by glancing back over her shoulder towards me. That made my little soldier stand straight up, and there was no doubt then that she saw what I had, so I did not bother resisting the urge to reach down and give it a soft slow tug."

As Harold said this, my hand interpreted this as a command, and dropped across my crotch. I allowed myself to caress my tumescence through my pants, concentrating on not making the elbow movement obvious to the entire resort. I knew that looking towards the pool would not help, yet I could not resist glancing across. The young woman's fingers had dipped even lower, nudging the wisp of fabric down, casually allowing us a glimpse of her gash.

Harold was staring off into space, busy recalling his own private viewing of Lori. "She rewarded me with a grin, and that was when she stepped into the shower. That was how I knew she was not upset that an old perv like me was getting off on the power of her body. Even before the water hit her breasts, she arched her back and stuck her nipples upwards. Her hands slid up her sides and she cupped the undersides of her tits as the spray caressed the mounds."

"How could you tell?"

"She had left the glass door open. As she teased her nipples with her fingertips, she looked over and stared at me, watching my fist sliding up and down my staff."

I chuckled, finally accepting that either Lori really wasn't freaked by her pervy step dad, or Harold was spinning a great yarn. It only made a difference because I too had a stepdaughter.

"I doubt that Marcy would react that way," I observed. This entire bizarre conversation had begun because while we were watching the pretty young thing sunning boldly by the hotel pool, Harold thought a fellow step father of a hot barely legal teen might identify with his urges. While Marcy could get me hard just with a smile, I never dreamed that she might actually appreciate my interest. Well, I did dream of it, and sometimes with my cock stiffening in my palm, but I never would have dared be as brazen as Harold claimed he was. "She would likely scream and then run off to squeal to her Mother."

"If Lori had done that, at least my wife would have to confront the fact that I can still get it up."

"Marcy's Mom has no problems in that regard. She's as hot for me as ever. But despite my age, I'm still as horny as a teenager. Especially when I see a hot teenager. I could have fucked my wife an hour ago, and seeing an eighteen year old hard body in a bikini would make me want to go again."

I glanced back towards the pool. The gal I had dubbed "Scenery" was calmly rubbing her fingertips inside her thigh, brushing her pussy through the scant fabric of her thong bikini, maintaining the slightest propriety - after all, she could tell even the strictest uptight biddy that her leg was itchy - but exciting every heterosexual guy in sight. 

"I wonder how she'd enjoy my tongue licking there instead of just her own hand touching," I muttered. 

"I thought the same about Lori as she washed between her legs, working the suds all over her groin, but taking great care to rinse inside her pussy without getting suds in it. She used her left hand to pull the lips wide open, bending her knees slightly for balance. If I had any doubts whether or not she was vamping me, they vanished when she turned just enough to give me a better view."

The sunbather turned her body towards us as if on cue, shifting her left leg back to allow her to lie on her right side, but leave her knees wide apart, her tanned oily flesh glistening brightly. Her right hand supported her chin, but her left hand slid down off of her hip to resume rubbing her belly.

"Marcy never even leaves the bathroom door open" I heard myself saying, wistfully. The combination of Harold's reminiscences and the scenery was stirring up deeply buried feelings. A shiver ran through my spine, exploding through my groin. My cock was straining my zipper more than ever, and I could only hope that the precum I felt seeping from my tip was not staining the front of my pants. Still, I could not bring myself to change topics. I had to hear more about Harold watching Lori.

"Did you have to go somewhere to finish off?" I asked Harold. 

His laughter came gurgling up from deep within his belly. "Of course not, I finished myself off right there, but you are jumping ahead of the story a bit."

"What happened next then?" I prompted as Harold sipped his drink. I signalled the bartender to set up another round.

"Lori slipped a fingertip across her labia, all the while staring at me choking my chicken. I instinctively nodded a bit then I think, in case, I guess, in case she was pausing to see whether I wanted or dared her to do more. So then she drew the digit upwards, this time letting the joint slip inside of her wetness. I pumped my shaft and she copied as closely as possible, thrusting first a single finger and then two into her cunt."

"Too bad the scenery lass can't do that now."

"True, but what she's doing is almost as good. Especially given that she can't really see what reaction she is causing over her, and we aren't able to flop out our mahogany and demonstrate our appreciation properly. We'll just have to enjoy how those fingers flit over her mound."

As Harold spoke, I noticed that our vixen was becoming even braver, allowing her nails to tease the cloth aside. Like Harold had when Lori ran across the hall, I imagined the scent of this woman.

As I breathed deeply, my cock stretching upwards, trying to nudge above the waistband of my pants, Harold resumed. "I felt like I shouldn't be watching, like I should bolt up off of my bed and run out of the house; let her finish her dirty little teasing game alone. But then I figured that it was my home, and my room, and I could jerk off if I pleased. Or maybe that was just my penis over ruling my common sense."

"As happens with men from time to time," I agreed.

"By that point, she had three fingers thrusting to their full length into her cunt, leaning back against the wall of the shower. It was like she was challenging me, except I didn't know whether the winner was who came first, or last."

"So she wasn't just a prick tease."

"Not in the classic sense, no."

"Not like that girl across the way."

"How do you know already? Maybe she's just waiting a while before she comes over. Or maybe she's waiting for us to approach her."

"For a threesome?"

"Why, aren't you man enough?"

I changed the subject, not sure how far I dared go towards actually acting upon my fantasies, wondering how far Harold had already gone. I was seeing a side of him that I never knew lurked behind the jolly fat man guise.

"So who came first?" I asked, wanting to change the subject as much as to hear more.

"The chicken or the egg?" Harold chortled, his belly rising with the effort. 

I could not resist looking down below his belt line where a spied a massive bulge, suggesting that even with his girth, Harold could fuck without having to lie like a turtle on his back. But why was I even thinking about that? I answered my own silent question - it was because I now was generating mental images of Harold fucking Lori. Then I realized, I was also picturing Harold fucking Marcy. I shook my head to clear the images, and looked out at the Scenery. That was no help, because this young woman, the same age roughly as my own step daughter, was the opposite of innocence. I watched as a shiver ran through her body while her fingers tapped her tummy just above her pussy. I imagined that I saw one fingernail actually grazing a cock-like clit bulging against the fabric of her bikini.

"Since she was the chicken with the egg, you might think she came first, but in fact, we came about the same time." Harold resumed, bringing me back to the moment. "Not that I can really tell exactly when a woman orgasms from a distance. Not like when I feel her entire body shudder as her groin clamps tight around my cock, gripping me as if milking my meat is the only thing preventing her head from twirling around. Or like when I lick a woman into cumming on my tongue and I get rewarded with a flood. No, this was much vaguer than that."

The bartender chose that moment to deliver the next round. While we waited for him to move away, we stared again at the vision by the pool. 

"Like I can't tell how close that woman is to climax," Harold explained, tilting his glass towards her to illustrate the point. I guess she thought he was saluting her with it, because she grinned and raised her hand from her groin, waggling 'hello' with the fingers. "I only imagine that those fingers smell like a particularly musky honey, tangy with a tiny odour of sweat – not that lady-like 'glow' crap they talk about in fashion magazines, but good old carnal fuck induced sweat."

I instinctively inhaled, as if I could capture that scent. Not that I needed to, since Harold's description had triggered my memories, which connected straight to my throbbing organ. I knew that a single touch and I would explode right there in the bar, filling my own pants with my seed.

"So you came right there with Lori watching?" I finally managed to respond.

"Yup. Well, I can't be sure that her eyes were actually open at the instant that the great gobs of goo spurted out of the yawning tip of my rock hard mushroom head. She had slumped to the floor of the shower as she climaxed. She was biting her lip, I guess to stop from screaming, or maybe just to mix a bit of pain with the pleasure. Then, she lay there writhing and whimpering, her fingers still revolving like a hi tech vibrator, deep inside her wide open gushing young cunt. I know she was watching me then, and the load was still surging out my slit. The first explosion had splattered down my thighs, some of it landing on the bed between my knees, but the rest seeped out, coating my hand and shaft. As my member subsided, the last remnants pooled on my lower belly."

"If it was a porn movie, she would crawl over and lick you clean."

"True. But this was real life and Lori's Mom was calling us to dinner."