6 comments/ 39168 views/ 7 favorites A Secret for Two By: trixiej DAY 1 I knew he was there. Well, at that point I was only assuming it was him. In the mirror I saw a shadow slide across the sunbeam that was illuminating the landing outside our bedroom door. I carried on, pretending to evaluate the dress I was trying on. Packing had been very much a rushed effort and, rather than carefully choose which of my new summer dresses I'd take to Italy, I put all five in the suitcase, complete with still-attached labels and price tags. This was the first chance I'd had to see myself in them. I stood on the bed to get a better view from the waist down, and also to manoeuvre myself subtly so that I was able to see the crack between the door and the frame, to see if he was watching me. He was. Bill was my boyfriend's father. We were all staying together in a villa in Tuscany for five days, paid for by Bill and his wife, Sheila. The guests were myself and Chris, Chris's older brother Will, his wife Imogen and their two brats. I wasn't mad keen on the idea but, hey, what the heck -- it was a free holiday. I wasn't very fond of Will and hated Imogen with a passion. Bill and Sheila I'd only met a few times -- Chris and I were not long into a full-on relationship after all -- but they seemed OK. Until now. A Peeping Tom. I was having mixed feelings about the situation I found myself in, though. The exhibitionist in me, not to mention the filthy little girl, was getting off on him spying on me. There was no doubt he would find me attractive. He probably jacked off thinking about me all the time -- it had never occurred to me until now but it was obvious. I continued to turn and bend and swish my hem on the bed, stalling as I debated whether to change into the next dress while he was watching. We both knew he was safe to stand there for some time yet. Chris and Will were on their morning run around the bay, Sheila had cheerily announced she was heading into the village for daily rations, Imogen and the kids were out in the pool already -- and their bedrooms was downstairs. I slid off the bed and turned to the last two dresses, laid out on the sheets and waiting for attention. They were all much of a muchness -- about knee-length, strappy shoulders, low cut, some with a lacy finish. I had underwear on so I wasn't being a total whore in knowingly undressing for him. I smiled inwardly as lifted the pink dress over my head, tossing it on to the approved-for-use pile. I had a matching white thong and bra on, so there wasn't much to be left to the imagination. I felt a tingle of excitement as I paused to select which dress would get my attention next. I picked the white one, knowing it was shorter, sexier. I slowly gathered it up and dropped it over my head. I was dying to look at him, or hear him gasp. I strained to detect any signs of movement, but nothing. I turned to the mirror. He was still there. I wondered if he was jacking off right there on the landing, or had his hand in his pants squeezing his cock as he watched me. I wanted to see more. I wanted to see inside his head. The noise of Imogen shouting at the kids outside woke me from my daydream. I pushed down the dress, ironing out the creases, twisting left and right for the mirror, turning right round to check my ass. I adjusted my breasts, doing it slightly side-on to ensure he saw me do it. This dress I liked. I climbed up on the bed as before, taking a pair of heeled sandals with me to try on in the mirror. I bent over on the bed as I slipped each shoe on, my ass pointing right at him. There was no doubt he was going to lock himself away for five minutes after this, and I was getting more and more turned on by the thought. I didn't find him attractive at all -- he wasn't even a plumper, older version of Chris, to me he seemed somewhat less than that -- but it was giving me a thrill performing for him. Maybe it was a bit kinky. But, hey, kinky's my middle name. DAY 2 It took quite a while for us to exchange a glance, let alone words, on the Monday. I broke the ice by offering to get him a drink as we all lazed by the pool -- after all, in theory I was none the wiser about his peeping routine. I watched from behind my shades to see if I could catch him eyeing me up in my bikini, but he seemed to behave as good as gold. Things had relaxed by the evening to the point that I had almost forgotten about it all. Chris and I went out for dinner and a few drinks, the remaining adults were playing cards when we got back. We made our excuses and went to bed to screw. As I lay there, Bill was in my head. I wasn't imaging Bill fucking me, just wondering if he and Sheila still did it, whether he was any good at it, whether I was in his head when he got to do it. I wasn't relaxed enough to cum -- his family playing cards in the room below us and all -- so I faked one and said a silent apology to the Sex God. The next morning, as I towelled down in the bathroom, I heard Sheila trill through the house: "Any requests? ... Right then, see you in a while." The door closed behind her as she marched up the hill into town. It was just me and Bill upstairs in the villa again. My heart was pounding. I could, of course, close the door to the bedroom tight shut this time. But that was highly unlikely. I wrapped my towel around me and padded across to the bedroom pushing the door behind me and hearing it stick on the old, ragged carpet as it had done the day before. From my position in front of the mirror there was a visible gap of a couple of inches between the outside of the door and the frame. And then there was the crack down the inside of the door through which Bill had watched me the previous morning. I dried myself off slowly, watching the landing in the mirror, listening for creaking floorboards. I did my entire body twice and still no sign. I heard movement downstairs, and Bill coughing. Maybe he didn't want to risk it today. I gave my hair a thorough rub with the towel -- I'd forgotten my hairdryer -- and began my moisturising routine. I did my face and neck, perched on the edge of the bed, as close to the mirror on the opposite wall as I could get. I did my upper chest, hands and arms. As I pushed myself back to do my legs I suddenly got the feeling he was there. I couldn't see from my position, so I needed to stand up are shuffle across. I pretended I had the wrong body cream and reached over to my toiletry bag to get the expensive stuff. Bill was peering through the door crack again. My heart pounded. He was just in time. I returned to my position in the middle of the bed, sat up, and dribbled some of the cold, oily cream along my right leg. I put the tube down beside me and began to slowly massage the white cream into my skin. I started at the top of my thigh, with both hands, and slowly pushed down over my knee and down my shin to my ankle, before drawing my hands up the back of my leg, raising it off the bed in the process, and completing a 'lap' at the underside of my thigh. I put some more cream, into my palm, rubbed some on to the other hand, and reversed the action. I pressed my cold slippery palms against the underside of my thigh and drew them up my leg, under my knee and along my calf until they reached my ankle once more. Then they came back down the front of my bronzed, smooth leg. I massaged the leg for a few minutes, rubbing the moisturiser slowly in, kneading my thigh flesh in full view of my boyfriend's father. I couldn't very well check, but I knew I was getting wet. As I prepared to do the left leg I realised Bill wasn't going to be able to see from his position, so I moved a little sideways, hoping to God I was not making it obvious that I knew he was there. I squirted some cream along my left thigh. As I began the same motions it occurred to me that in his perverse mind the cream might have resembled cum shot along my toned upper leg. I let out a few audible sighs as I pushed the cream into my pores, purely for his benefit. As I debated whether to do my breasts for him I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Repeated movement. He was wanking out there, I was sure of it. I was stuck because I had turned away from the mirror and could not look directly at him, but I could sense movement. He was watching me rub cream into my naked body and jacking off. The thought of it drove me wild. I squeezed a few drops of cream on to my breasts, and rubbed it in. It wasn't something I was finding erotic in itself, but I knew he would. So I closed my eyes, tossed my head around a little, acted like I was driving myself wild. I massaged my breasts and lingered around the nipples, I cupped them repeatedly, driving them up and together, accentuating their B-cup pertness. This was going to its only logical conclusion. Satisfied that I had done a decent job with my tits, I lay back on the bed, totally unable to see through the crack now, but knowing that my lower body was in full view to him. I picked up the tube of moisturising lotion and squeezed a line across my bikini line. I began moisturising all the waxed and shaved skin, legs still fairly close together, my hand dying to delve deeper. I parted my legs slightly while there was still some lotion to be had, and pushed some down either side of my pussy with my middle and index finger, drawing them back up slowly, pushing them down again. I let out a quiet moan and spread my legs wider. I thought I heard him whimper. My feet were on the edge of the bed, knees slightly more than shoulder width apart. I gathered some moisturiser with my middle finger from a small blob that had gathered in the top of my pubes. I slowly reached down and placed the finger on my pussy, gently pressing my clit, waking it from its slumber, before using the lotion to slide between my lips and directly on to my hardening button. I let out a louder moan. I dropped my feet over the edge of the bed to make sure Bill could see everything, my left hand slowly squeezed my breast as my finger glided over my clit. My finger ventured further south, hooking into my hole, audibly opening me up as the building wetness betrayed my genuine arousal. I probed with my middle and ring fingers, penetrating myself, moving in a circular motion to gather up my juices on my fingers, teasing my G-spot every now and then. I pulled my hand back out of my cunt and dragged the slimy fingers up my slit before settling over my clit. "Ahhhhhh," I moaned louder still as the lubricated fingers slipped over me, I quickened the pace, now caught up in the moment, focused on whacking myself off, needing to cum. I raised my left leg and pushed up slightly. I wanted fingers inside me too and needed to manoeuvre my left hand down there. I rolled slightly in sliding my left hand under my ass, still rhythmically rubbing my clit. I pulled my left leg fully off the bed in stretching to reach my dripping hole, my raised leg squashed against me, newly softened thigh flesh pressed against my stomach. I pushed the middle three fingers of my left hand into my pussy, the wetness surprising even me, and began fucking myself in time with the other hand, gently scraping my nails over my G-spot with every withdrawal. "Oh fuck yeah," I growled as I felt a climax thundering towards me. Clit and G-spot simultaneously meant no turning back. My right hand began pressing harder down on to my clit as it rubbed. It wasn't full-on enough, I needed more. With my index and ring fingers I held and parted my lips, pinning them apart and allowing my middle finger to frantically rub my exposed clit. "Oh God," I squealed, my whole body tensing up. If I could have seen Bill that would have tipped me over the edge for sure. I thought of him stood there, wanking into a tissue. The pre-orgasm warmth and numbness gathered inside me. I stopped fucking with my left hand and kept it inside me, rubbing my G-spot. I cried out as the first shattering wave of ecstasy went through me, my upper body thrown forward off the bed, my legs instinctively closing, grasping my hands between my legs. I pressed my clit, squeezed it, pushing the second and third waves down and out of my body. My head was buried in the sheets, hair in my mouth, spit on my cheek. I growled as I hit a wall, and sowly pulled my hand out of my hole with a squelch and dropped my leg to a more comfortable position. I lay there for a while, getting my breath back, deciding what to do next. Then the door downstairs opened and the boys' post-run chatter ruined the moment. I stood and, of course, Bill was gone -- though hopefully only just. I got dressed and, at breakfast, I was incredibly naughty. Every now and then when I thought Bill might be looking I subtly ran my fingers under my nose, having a gentle sniff. I sensed him tensing the first time I did it, I was sure he saw. It gave me a kick. Gave me the hunger for more. I picked up a slice of toast from the rack and made a show of changing my mind, putting it back -- sure enough Bill went straight for it. I watched him eat it, squirming in my seat. DAY 3 Chris and I had only fucked the one time in the villa, and it was a fairly tame one at that. Tuesday night he was out like a light, a consequence of all that sun, fresh air and booze, leaving me to rub myself off for the second time that day, my mind wandering to Bill and our dirty secret as I did so. I was woken the next morning by a damp Chris, fresh from a pre-run cold shower, nuzzling up behind me, obviously wanting me to put out. I played dead-to-the-world for as long as I could, then made a big thing of coming round slowly. His hand had forced itself between my legs from behind, trying to squeeze me into some sort of arousal. "Aren't you going for a run?" I mumbled by way of an acknowledgement. "Yeah... but I'm horny," he replied planting soft kissed on my neck and pressing a stiff cock into the small of my back. "Doesn't sex waste valuable energy for your run?" I asked, eyes still closed. "Come and do me when you get back." "Nah, it'll get my blood pumping...besides you look too good to leave alone." I could tell he wasn't going to let it go, so I opened my legs slightly more, allowing his hand a bit more room to manoeuvre. I reached behind and squeezed his cock a little while he gently pressured my sleepy clit. After a few minutes I could feel myself getting vaguely in the mood, and rolled over so we could kiss while we wanked each other. We were both naked, the sheet having peeled off my body when Chris crawled up and started fondling me. My legs opened more, offering a moistening hole for Chris to delve into with his middle finger, lubricating before returning to my clit. I jacked him softly, slowly against my tummy, our kisses gradually became softer, more longing, breathing began to acquire moans and groans as we edged towards our fuck. "Suppose you're too tired for anything but 'mish'?" he said between tonguey kisses. "Mmmm," I intoned in agreement. Then I thought. Bill. He might watch. I suddenly pushed Chris, my hand on his shoulder, and clambered over him as he rolled on to his back in the middle of the bed. He was surprised, but smiled approvingly. "Actually," I said slowly, "I quite fancy riding you if that's OK?" I leant down to kiss him, my pussy hovering tantalisingly above his cock as I crouched on all fours over him. "That's fine by me," he said. "You save your energy for your run," I smiled at him, reaching between my legs to hold his stiff cock still as I backed on to him. "Mmmmmmm," I moaned slightly louder than before as I felt my cunt swallow him inch by inch. When it was all in I pushed myself back, straddling him, and sat with his dick inside me, working small circular movements to open myself up a little more. I noticed the door was slightly open again, caught on the rumpled carpet once more. I could see through the crack from where I performed. Chris's hands reached up, cupping my tits as I concentrated on my slow circular grind on him. "Ahhhhhhh," I let out another exclamation that was possibly too loud. "Fuck yeah!" My hands gripped the side of Chris's body, his hands wandered all over, squeezing my ass and thighs, back to my tits now and then. I grabbed his wrist and directed the middle finger that had been inside me up towards my mouth. My lips parted and I let him slowly slide it in, savouring the sweet taste of my pussy around his finger as I slowly rocked on him. Having seductively tongued his finger inside my mouth, I removed it and leant forward to kiss him again, sharing what delicious leftovers there might be around my lips. I lifted myself off him, dragging him to the mouth of my cunt and pausing before sliding back down on to him. Much as I loved grinding on him, feeling his pubic bone against my clit, feeling his cock pressing deep inside me, I knew that he loved long slimy strokes on his cock that he could look down between us and watch. That he did, murmuring a few "fuck yeah"s. I pushed myself back again, glancing again at the crack in the door. I couldn't see any sign of Bill. Oh well. This wasn't exactly a chore. I began riding Chris quicker, his hands holding my hips as I fucked. "Mmmmmmmm," I growled urgently, eyes shut. He squeezed my tits, held my hair back to watch my face, grabbed my ass. His hands seemed to be everywhere. I threw myself forward again, lying fully on him but grinding on him, my mouth's eagerness for his betraying my arousal. He held my ass cheeks as I gyrated on him. "Ahhhhh Chris, stick a finger in me..." He knew what to do. I often had the urge to feel something in my ass when I went on top. He squeezed his hand between our faces and returned his middle finger to my mouth for a quick and simple lube-up. My movements subsided as his hand returned to my ass, his left hand pulling at my butt cheek to expose my hole. His index finger located the warm puckered entry and the slick middle finger probed gently, slipping in easily then gently pushing past a tiny moment of discomfort before being finally fully enveloped in my murky wet warmth. "Grrrrrrrrrrrr," I breathed into his ear. He worked his finger round slowly, loosening me up. "Oh yeah baby, can you feel your cock?" "Mmm-hmmm," he murmured agreement. I began rocking on him again, his signal to start finger-fucking my ass. The movements were small to begin with. It felt great. I wanted to cum so badly. I pushed up slightly, my hands on Chris's upper arms for leverage, fucking him harder, lifting off his cock more but still grinding my clit against his svelte body. "Ahhh Trix that feels so good." He was right. But I wanted two fingers in my ass now, and I was worried it was going to get in the way of a proper full-on fuck. I thought quickly, came up with the ideal solution. A special treat for Chris, and I'd be able to watch the crack in the door in the mirror. I stopped screwing and gently pulled his hand away from my ass. "What's up?" he asked. "Nothing. Just moving round." I climbed off his cock, gave him quick kiss, and turned so that I was facing away from him but still straddling. I reached down between my legs and held his cock upright, sitting on it once more, letting it disappear into my hot pussy. "I want you to finger my ass properly," I whispered under my shoulder to him. He grunted some sort of ascension and I felt his middle finger slip straight back in, working my hole larger for the moment rather than fuck me. I cocked my head slightly to one side, trying to peer through the crack of the door. I thought I could see a shadow, but I wasn't sure. One thing was for sure, if Bill was there, he was getting his money's worth again today. Chris withdrew his finger, only to force two of them back in. "Ahhhhhhhh," I let out a genuine groan of pleasure. "Oh yeah... fuck me." I rode Chris harder. I could feel his fingers pressing against his cock through my walls and knew that would be driving him wild. As his fingers built up speed fucking my ass, the warm loose feeling took hold, adding to the stimulation of my pussy. I loved not knowing if I was going to shit myself on him, not being able to feel properly in my ass, just that warm fuzzy sexy feeling of being fucked in there. With one hand gripping his knee down in front of me, the other reached down between my legs to squeeze his balls, to try to feel them pumping juice into me. He squirmed and groaned as I began massaging them, we were both close to cumming. A Secret for Two "I'm gonna blow," he warned, romantically. I tossed my head back to try to watch Chris cum in the mirror, and this time I saw Bill stood on the landing, watching us fuck. He was right up at the crack between door and frame. It was so obvious. Whether he was trying to get a better view of the fingers sliding in and out of my ass, or was trying t listen tot our groans and whispers I had no idea, but I saw him and it sent me over the edge. I cried out dramatically, eyes half-closed, head back, watching Bill through my straggled hair as I came in spasms all over Chris's dick and fingers, my ass bucking on him, my hands subconsciously squeezing his balls that much harder, wanting him to shoot, which he duly did. Chris was much quieter in his orgasm -- I was still groaning and panting, being much the actress. But with the withdrawal of Chris's fingers from my ass and our post-climax stillness, Bill slunk off to his room. I collapsed on to the bed beside Chris, obsessing about Bill. I hoped he liked the show. While Chris was surreptitiously sniffing his fingers while he ran round the bay with his brother, I was miles away in the shower, wondering what fantasies were now in Bill's head . . . DAY 4 Thursday took a different pattern to the previous mornings. The weather had closed in a little, so the boys opted against their run. To save his mother from the impending rain, Chris offered to do the dawn raid at the local shops, so I still ended up on the first floor alone with Bill. But there were bodies aplenty downstairs -- albeit busying themselves. I was quick in the shower compared to usual, towelled off in the bathroom. I thought I heard furtive footsteps out on the landing. It crossed my mind that he may have hidden himself in my closet, but the room was man-free when I got there, I was sure of that. Not wanting to get caught in any "acts" by the rest of the family, I dressed quickly and simply, decided to skip make-up until later (Imogen would no doubt smirk at that) and padded quietly out of the room. As I passed Bill and Sheila's room, I heard a small sigh and some movement. That special kind of movement. Rhythmic movement. Was he jacking off in there? Dare I peek? I pushed the door ever so slightly. The movement continued. I pushed a little more. Still no change in pace. I moved it a good inch or two with the last push, creating a gap wide enough to peer round. I edged closer, my left foot testing the first floorboard of his room, gradually building the pressure. I leant with my arm against the wooden door frame and slowly moved my head across until my left eye was able to pick up Bill on the bed. His back was mostly to me, he was sat at the foot of the bed over to the right from the door. He was wanking. No surprise. The surprise was that he was wanking with the panties I had worn yesterday. The dirty little. . . I watched, mesmerised. His cock looked a decent size, I noted, probably out-measuring Chris. He had my black lace thong wrapped around his cock three or four times over. He was panting as he did it. Pushing the panties up and down his shaft, he seemed to revel when they scraped over the top of his dick. He was naked, his legs apart, perched on the bed's edge. There was a mirror opposite him, much like in my room, but he seemed to have his eyes closed, head thrown back a lot. The dirty little bastard. I had "lost" a pair of panties and a hold-up stocking at their house months ago. Chris had blamed it on the dog -- "he's always doing that kind of thing" -- but poor old Patch was no pervert it turned out. Bill must have taken them. And then done Lord knows what to them. He stopped jacking, unravelling the panties from his cock, and lifted them to his face, taking deep breaths of my scent. I didn't know what to think. I'd never seen anyone do that. Boyfriends had jokingly lauded the scent of my underwear, but this was real-life kink, right before my very eyes. I was transfixed. I figured he was so sexually frustrated that the scent of a sexy young woman, albeit via her panties, was a major kick for him. He returned one hand to his dick, the strokes more slow and methodical than before. My panties were still on his face, his head back so they stayed around his mouth and nose. I thought I saw his tongue in them. I couldn't be sure. It was making me horny. I wanted to go over and finish him off. "Bill, come on! You said you'd help with the cooking today." Sheila was marching up the stairs. I dived into the bathroom, as it was nearer than my bedroom, bolting the door behind me and throwing the lid back loudly. I wasn't intending to reappear for some time. I really needed to cum. DAY 5 The other 23 hours of my Wednesday were fairly grim. Being cooped up inside meant Chris and I were getting on each other's nerves again, the weather had turned cold, Imogen and the kids were annoying me. There were rows in the evening when the alcohol took hold. I tried to stay out of it all, my mind flitting back to the surreal events of the morning by way of escape. My mind was getting fixated with Bill and his dirty deeds. Chris drunkenly started a row with me as we went to bed, something about me not sticking up for him in front of his parents. I was getting a little bored of this relationship. Back in London it would be time to call it a day, I was thinking. The next morning, Chris and his brother went for their run separately, a childish hangover from the night before. As I made my way to the bathroom I caught a glimpse of Bill in his room, still in bed, doing whatever 60-year-old men do when they're awake in bed. With a 30-year-old's panties, no doubt. I showered quickly, gave my legs a quick shave, and decided I would just wander in there and look for my missing panties. After all, I was running short of underwear -- another consequence of my rushed packing effort. It felt like the week had reached some sort of cathartic point. I was certain to dump Chris, we were flying home that evening, I would never see Bill again after we landed in London -- so I wanted to see what would happen if he was still in the room. I opened the bathroom door as quietly as I could, tiptoeing as far as the entrance to Bill and Sheila's room. I took a deep breath and strode in, brushing the door aside with my right hand and clutching my white towel to my chest with my left. Bill looked up in horror. He was sat up in bed, his bottom half under the covers -- hands too, I noted -- and he quickly gathered up the blankets to cover his torso as he went red and mumbled an apology. "Why are you sorry?" I asked, standing in front of him, still dripping a little on to his carpet. "I'm the one who didn't knock! Sorry, I thought you were downstairs." "Ummmm, that's OK. Sorry. Um, sorry." I took the last few steps to the bed and sat next to him, level with where his knees were up under the blankets. "What's up? Anything I can help with?" he stumbled. "Yes, actually." I looked him in the eye. "I thought I'd lost a pair of knickers in here." The redness drained from his cheeks to be replaced by a strange shade of grey. I realised I was being a tad cruel, and I decided to change tack. I wanted him to relax. "It's OK. I'm not going to tell anyone. Or get annoyed." "Oh. Ummmm." He fidgeted, not knowing where to look. "Are they under there, right now?" I said pointing at his body under the cream bedding. He looked at where I pointed, then back at me, then down at his legs. They were so under there. I sought out the edge of the covers with my right hand and delved under, pushing my way across to his body. I looked up to see him wide-eyed, watching the outline of my arm pushing under the blankets. My hand hit the underside of his thigh, his legs still raised up in an inverted 'V' under the covers. I pushed across, knowing full well I would next brush against his balls. When I got there I stopped and squeezed gently. He gulped. His balls twitched when he gulped. I smiled as I reached further, wrapping my hand around his hard-on. The panties weren't there, but I was fairly confident now that I would be getting them back. "Mmmmm, something's got you excited this morning," I said with my cheekiest grin. My hand stroked slowly under the covers. Bill said nothing. He let out a few small gasps as his breathing became that bit more audible. "Did they smell OK?" I squeezed the base of his cock as I asked. "Uh, yeah." The game up, he produced the thong from under the covers, offering it to me. "Why don't you keep them for a minute," I said, pushing his hand up towards his face. "Show me how much you like them." He wasn't at all sure. "Go on!" I quietly urged, then let loose my grip on the towel wrapped around me, like that would offer some sort of legitimate deal. My tits were on show, and my hand was still squeezing and wanking his cock under the blanket, so I must have been semi-serious. I lifted myself off the bed so I could free the towel from under me, pulling it away from my body with my free hand and tossing it to the floor. Now he was literally open-mouthed. I wanted some interaction, not dumbfounded amazement. I shifted so that my right leg was able to slide under the covers, opening my body up a little, not to mention my legs of course. I was almost face-on to him, he still holding the black panties halfway between us in the air, still staring at my toned curves just a few feet from his voyeuristic, prying eyes. "Look." I stopped my hand under the covers. "I saw you yesterday. Wanking. With my knickers. And it turned me on. I want you to do it again." This seemed to snap him from his trance. I began slowly massaging his dick and balls again, still out of sight. He sheepishly drew the black lace bundle to his face, watching me over the top of it, his nose eventually buried in there. I gave a dirty smile. Under the covers I used my right knee to nudge his leg closest to me further over towards where I sat. When it was right in front of me I slid forward, my groin against his foot. His eyes widened. I rocked gently against him, feeling myself getting warmer and wetter instantly. His shocked groan -- the first noise he had made in what seemed an age -- told me I was blowing his mind just as I'd hoped. I pushed harder, I gripped his cock harder, I wanked faster. I could feel my lips parting and moistening against the ridge of his foot. I could feel him tensing his foot under me, perhaps trying to get a better feel for my nether regions, perhaps thinking he could aid my pleasure. I felt his big toe scratch my ass a few times as I moved against him. He was breathing deeply into my panties when he suddenly jolted forward and whimpered. I felt his cock pumping under the covers and slowed to massage the juice from him, pressing his dick from the underside against his stomach. I felt warm, sticky cum on my thumb and fingers. I felt horny as hell. Eventually he removed the panties from his face. "Thank you," he said, still a little sheepish. "Thank you," I replied, giving his cock one last squeeze before pulling my hand free. We both looked at the off-white drops on my hand. I reached out with the left hand, beckoning the return of my panties. He gave them over with a smile. I quickly rearranged them so the gusset was visible and carefully cleaned his cum off my thumb and index finger. Then I stood from the bed, and put o the panties. He murmured some sort of oh-my-god blaspheme. I leant over and kissed him on the forehead before gathering my towel, re-applying it, and scampering from the room. It's now Day 274 and I'm still wishing we had swapped email addresses...