1 comments/ 72437 views/ 3 favorites Skirts By: oggbashan * * * * * Copyright Oggbashan August 2005 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. * * * * * This is the 9th story of The Silverbridge Chronicles. Some of the other stories are: 01 Lisa Trains Thomas 02 Lisa's Adjustable Petticoat 03 The Procession 04 The Vinyl Dress 05 The Clam, The Half-Clam and The Candle-Snuffer 06 The Cage Crinoline 07 Candice (in preparation) 08 Norwegian Petticoat 09 Skirts – This one 10 The Stag Party 11 The Hen Party 12 The Bridesmaids' Revenge * The Silver Vixens were sitting around waiting for their opponents to arrive for a football match. As usual their conversation turned to controlling their men. CANDICE'S FIRST STORY Lisa asked idly: "Candice, you haven't worn those combat trousers for some time, yet you used to live in them. Is there a reason why you stopped wearing them? And if so, what changed?" "I stopped wearing them because of something George did. But I had my revenge and now I've made them safe to wear again." replied Candice. "That sounds like an interesting story" said Lisa "You can't leave us guessing. Come on. Tell all!" The others brightened up. This was something new they hadn't heard about. "Jane will have to agree. She's involved in the story." Jane nodded "You can tell them, Candice." "OK. The trousers were a very simple story. I actually have three pairs that I bought in the market. Two are sand colour - I'm wearing one pair; the other pair is air force blue. They are useful casual trousers, lots of pockets, hard-wearing but reasonably cool yet windproof. I liked them until George showed me their disadvantage. They have (or rather had) drawstrings at the end of the trouser legs with a locking device. The original idea was to tighten the trouser ends around boots to stop sand or creepy-crawlies entering. As fashion trousers it was just a detail of the military look. One evening George and I were relaxing after dinner, watching television. We both wanted to have a bath before bed. It's one thing George and I row about but not seriously. He says I take too long in the bathroom..." There were mock interjections of "No!" or "Never!" "...and I complain that he leaves the bathroom floor and towels sopping wet. So we both want to be first to the bathroom. We had both curled up on the settee. The programme had ended when George said "Race you to the bathroom... One; Two; Three!" I thought I'd win because I was nearest the door but as I swung my legs down I toppled right over. George caught me as I fell, lifted me back on the settee and disappeared saying "Sorry. I win!" He'd tightened the trouser drawstrings and tied them together so I was hobbled. It took me nearly a quarter of an hour to undo the knots. I couldn't even pull the trousers off because they were so tight round my ankles. I was mad at him. He'd cheated. Although that time he made sure that he left the bathroom floor dry for me." We laughed but there were comments about devious men and typical male behaviour. "I couldn't let him get away with that but I bided my time for a suitable opportunity. While he was in the bath I thought about removing the drawstrings but I decided against. I would wait until I'd had my revenge. Until then I wouldn't wear the trousers when he was around. It took longer than I thought. Oh, I got back at him in simple ways but nothing seemed sufficiently satisfying. Then I had an idea. As well as the trousers I'd bought a long combat dress. You know the sort of thing. It's the same material, has pockets like the trousers, belt loops and a drawstring at the hem. The bodice has a high neckline with adjustable straps like a pinafore dress. It has a back zip and skirt is ankle length with small, say 5cm, slits both sides where the drawstrings adjust. Jane had bought one too, but in a larger size and longer since she's taller than me. I asked Jane if I could borrow hers. She said that I could have it if I wanted. She didn't like the colour. I jumped at the chance since what I was planning might damage Jane's dress. She said that she'd drop it in after the next training night. Then I told her about George's trick with the trousers and how I intended to get my revenge. Jane, being a friend, agreed to help. The evening after training Jane and I came back to the flat. As usual we'd showered. I was wearing a track suit. Jane was wearing a large denim skirt and T-shirt. When we arrived George had prepared a cold supper for us, including Jane. He was sitting on the floor in front of the settee watching an obscure European football match on satellite. Jane and I went through into the bedroom and I changed into Jane's combat dress, not mine. It was far too big for me but just right for what I wanted. If George noticed it I hoped he'd assume it was my dress. Under it I had my bra, panties and a T-shirt. We returned to the living room. Jane sat on the edge of the settee. I sat behind George draping my naked legs over his shoulders. He'd been so intent on the football that he hadn't noticed what I was wearing or that I'd hiked the skirt up nearly to my waist. Jane can tell you the next bit because I might laugh too much..." Jane looked startled but picked up the thread "I told George that Thomas had been practising lifting me on his shoulders from a seated position. It was supposed to strengthen his back and thigh muscles. Candice added that since she was lighter than me it ought to be fairly easy for George to duplicate. Why didn't he try now? He was as strong as Thomas wasn't he? That challenge he couldn't resist. He pulled Candice's legs tight around his neck, settled her on his shoulders and started to tuck his legs under him. Meanwhile Candice had unbuckled her shoulder straps, loosened the dress's belt and unzipped the back. George began to stand up. As agreed beforehand with Candice I stood behind them. As he finished standing Candice dropped the hem of the dress and I pulled it right down to his knees. It came off Candice like unpeeling a banana. She rolled forward and down leaving him inside. As she landed I zipped the dress up, tightened the belt and adjusted the shoulder straps as small as they would go. Candice finished her forward roll by pulling the drawstring tight round his knees, locking and knotting it. He was yelling blue murder. His head was trapped by the dress's neck; his arms were strapped to his sides by the belt and his knees were locked together. Candice got up and pushed him gently. He fell backwards on to the settee. She lifted his legs up and pushed his shoulders so that he was stretched out. Then she sat on his face. I handed her the TV's remote control and went to the kitchen to bring the cold supper through. When I returned George's wrapped head was lying on Candice's lap. I sat on his legs. We stayed like that for over an hour. There were protests from George from time to time but Candice just muffled them with her hand. When it was time for me to leave Candice uncovered his head and asked him to say goodnight to me. He refused several times but each time Candice covered him up again and pressed her hand over his mouth and nose. Eventually he agreed and said goodnight. What happened next I don't know. Candice will have to tell you." Candice wasn't the only one laughing at her revenge. She recovered enough to continue. "After Jane left George threatened to get back at her. I told him that he was in the position he was because he'd started it. If he went for Jane he'd have to answer to me, and to Jane and Thomas. While I was talking I was stroking him through the dress. That soon diverted him. I took my T-shirt off, unhooked my bra, and used it to lash his ankles. Then I tried to undo the drawstring round his knees. It took a long time firstly because his struggles had tightened the knot and secondly because my breasts were dangling over his face. They were being licked and sucked as often as he could. In the end I had to stop him or I'd never have got that knot undone. I stuffed my panties in his mouth and pulled the dress over his face again. Then I undid the knot and drawstring, pulled the dress's skirt up, his trousers and pants down, and mounted his erection. I leant forward, uncovered his face and pulled my panties out of his mouth. He came almost at once. As he lay there recovering I eased him out of the dress, then unstrapped his ankles and pulled his trousers and pants off. I lay on him for a while. Eventually he picked me up, carried me into the bedroom and we made love again. The next day I removed the drawstrings from my trousers and dress and started wearing them again. George forgot his intent of getting back at Jane. He still doesn't realise that it was her dress I used nor that it still has its drawstring. I might find an opportunity to use it again. If not it will make a good maternity dress." JANE'S STORY Jane protested at that. "I'm not that fat. You are just so skinny! I'm glad George forgave me. I had trouble with Thomas and a skirt only a few days later but it was unintentional. I didn't have any reason to humiliate him but that's what I did." There were encouraging noises. Another story! "I like Thomas muff-diving..." There were cries of "We know!". "...and sometimes he does it under my skirts. I like holding him through the skirt and using it to drag him further in. I have to be careful or I could suffocate him but most times we both have fun. This time I was wearing a floor length slimline office skirt. Without very high heels it trailed on the ground. It was charcoal grey with a black nylon lining and a double ended zip down the front seam. I could open the lower end to show more or less leg. Thomas wanted to muff-dive so I whipped off my panties and sat on the edge of the bed. I pulled the lower zipper up to give him room and sat back to enjoy myself - which I did. He was wearing only his Y-fronts. Then I made a mistake. I thought I'd pull the zipper down to pull him in without having to hold him myself. I leant forward and pulled it down. It moved further than I thought it would - so I decided to see just how far it would go. Closing the zipper so far had forced my upper thighs against his head and now his shoulders and upper arms were inside my skirt. I hadn't thought there would be enough room. Stupidly I kept pulling on that zipper. I was enjoying myself because as I leant forward I pushed him closer in to my muff. The zipper was now lower than I normally had it. Its movement was stiffer as it had never been that far down. Still I kept pulling. I wasn't really thinking. I was enjoying myself too much! The zipper was three-quarters closed. I still couldn't understand how I had managed to fit most of Thomas inside the skirt as well as my legs. There shouldn't have been enough room! I kept pulling..." Jane paused for effect. She was greeted with cries of "Go on!" "Thomas' legs were thrashing about more than normally. His hands were flapping feebly inside the last part of the skirt that I hadn't zipped yet. I didn't consciously notice these signs that he was in distress as I continued to pull that zipper remorselessly down. His hands stopped flapping as the skirt held them immobile. His head bulged up under the tight material and waggled. I shoved it back down with one hand as the other pulled the zip right to the end. Then I heard him faintly crying "Help!" and "Get me out!". Then I realised I was suffocating him. He couldn't breathe which explained the thrashing legs and flapping hands. I grabbed at the zipper again and pulled at it. It was stuck! I thought that it was because it had never been that far down so I pulled harder. The puller broke off! Now we were in trouble. He was suffocating and I'd broken the zipper! I reached for the other end and pulled the top zipper down. It moved about 10 cm and then jammed on his head. In desperation I sucked my tummy in and pushed my fingers under his forehead. That gave him just enough to get some air but I couldn't hold my tummy in for long. As I relaxed he was suffocating again. I wrestled with the zipper, this time pushing his head into me as I pulled on it. That gave me another 5 cm. I sucked in my tummy to let him breathe again before repeating the process. He was resisting because he was so short of air but I pushed him down hard! After three attempts the zipper moved again and his head popped out. He rested it on my tummy as he turned his head and gasped for air. When he had stopped gasping I told him that the lower zipper was broken. When he realised that I hadn't intended to trap him he calmed down but we were still locked together. I couldn't move either end of the zipper. He was sheathed in a tight cocoon from shoulders nearly to his knees. My legs were jammed in with him. All I could do was waggle my toes. My arms were free but what could I do? We were in the bedroom. There was nothing within reach to help us. The phones were in the living room and did we want anyone to find us like this? Even if we did, how would they get in? We discussed what to do for several minutes then he started laughing at our predicament. When he'd finished he suggested that we moved like a caterpillar to the kitchen. Perhaps I could get a knife and cut us free? Getting me off the bed was a real contortion. I had to cushion my fall with my arms. Then we tried to move. It was easier for me with my hands on the floor but then my tummy was suffocating him again. If I was on my back I couldn't help him move. We managed on our sides. I had to reach up to open the bedroom door. Then we had to back away while I pulled it open. On the landing we had to rest. Thomas needed to breathe. I needed to rest my arms that were doing most of the work pulling us along. Both of us had cramp in our legs from being held so tightly together. Thomas tried to push us along with his feet but the skirt made that impractical. I had to continue dragging us along. It took nearly a quarter of an hour to get from the bedroom door to the kitchen. Then we had another problem. The polished floor was now too slippery for me to get a grip. Every time I tried to move my hands just slid along the floor. Thomas got his feet against a wall and shoved us across the room. I pulled us along by the cupboard handles to the cutlery drawer. I opened it and reached in gingerly. When I grasped the handle of a carving knife I felt as if I'd run a marathon. I wriggled it out and carefully cut along the skirt's seam beside the zip. We weren't free even then. I hadn't cut the lining. That was stuck to us by our sweat. I worked my legs out, leaving poor Thomas in his clammy cocoon. I kissed him before I cut him free. The skirt lining had to be peeled off him like a second skin. I dried him off with the kitchen towel and hugged him. As we sat there I noticed the skirt's label. It said "Lycra added to skirt and lining to help this garment retain its shape". As I had pulled the zipper the skirt had expanded around Thomas' body but had been straining to get back to its normal slimline shape. No wonder poor Thomas couldn't move! That's it. I repaired the skirt with a normal waist zipper and a fixed front slit. I wasn't going to risk trapping us again." Jane's story met with general approval then there was a silence. LISA'S STORY "Any other stories?" asked Lisa. Candice said: "I do have another story but I think I'll wait until after someone else's." "No one except Candice? Jane, can I tell one about me and Thomas?" "I've heard some of them from you..." Jane started to say. "I haven't told you this one. But he's yours now. I won't tell it if you object." said Lisa. "Go on. I know you trained Thomas well. I had a much easier job with him after you'd finished with him. I don't mind now that it's history." "Thank you, Jane. It started when Thomas was being difficult. I know in retrospect that I was just as difficult as he was. Our relationship was not right for us. All that matters now was that I was annoyed with him that day. I was trying to do some work on modifying a dress for a customer who was due to collect it that evening. The adaptation was proving more complex than I thought. Apart from my frustration, Thomas was annoying me. He had recently showered and was only wearing his boxer pants. I tried to talk to him but my mind was elsewhere. He was in a bad mood because I was so preoccupied. When he said something about the futility of women's clothes, my patience snapped. I jumped on him and tied him in seconds. I gagged him as well but now he'd got my full attention. The customer would arrive soon for a fitting of her new dress and I had my partner tied on the floor. That wouldn't do!" That drew a laugh. "I picked him up and carried him into the bedroom. I put him on the bed and thought. The customer might well come in here to change since the living room windows were large. What could I do with Thomas? I decided to put him in the large fitted wardrobe but he might kick or bang at the doors. How could I prevent him? I looked inside the first wardrobe section that is full of formal gowns. That gave me an idea. I went down to the workroom and brought back some of my long sash material. I turned him on his side and threaded a length of silken sash material under his armpits and across his back. I wrapped another length around his waist and secured his hands to it. I tied a third piece to the link between his ankles. I had four free ends. One from either side of his chest, one from his waist and one from his ankles. I fastened them all to a heavy metal hanger and tried lifting it with him attached. It was a real effort but I just managed it! I lowered him carefully and thought. I had intended to suspend him inside the wardrobe but I wasn't sure that the rail would take his weight. Later I found that it would but that's another story! In the bedroom I had a lazy susan. If you don't know it, it's a drying rail for clothes that used to be in kitchens. It has two metal hangers about 2 metres apart with four wooden battens between them. Clothes are spread on them to dry and then the lazy susan is hoisted with a pulley system to the ceiling out of the way and in the hottest part of the room. They aren't common now because modern houses don't have the ceiling height. My lazy susan had been adapted so that it just had one steel bar with rings at each end. The pulley system had multiple sheaves so that you could lift heavy weights easily. I hang partly made dresses from it. Sometimes I lie in bed looking at them and work out what to do next. That used to annoy Thomas. Harold and I swap ideas about them. The rail was empty then. I lowered it and hooked the hangar over the bar. With the help of the pulleys I lifted Thomas easily off the floor. He was wriggling and faint protests were getting past the gag. His body was sagging in the middle, so I lowered him again and fitted a width of material over his backside. When I'd attached that to the hangar he was almost in a hammock. However I couldn't just hoist him up to the ceiling and assume my customer wouldn't look up, could I? I lowered him again, and put a wide skirted ballgown on the hangar. This time he was invisible but his head and feet were bulging the gown. I took it off, added its massive layered net petticoats, then tried again. That was a success. The spreading skirts covered him completely and even his most frenzied wriggle didn't disturb the dress. The final touch was to cover the whole with a cotton dress bag pulled from below and tied above the hangar. Now Thomas was invisible from every viewpoint. I hoisted him up to the ceiling and went back to work on the customer's dress. I was still annoyed with him because sorting him out had wasted my time. Skirts Chapter 1 Skirts What man hasn't at some time been stirred by just the sight of a skirt swirling around a pair of long, shapely legs? She me one and I'll show you a blind man! Let's be honest and admit it, a skirt, one that's neither too long, nor somewhat perversely, too ridiculously short, is one thing a woman with even reasonably good legs can wear and know that she'll arouse more than just the interest of most of the men who happen to see her walking by. And the effectiveness can be created by a wide variety of types of skirt, though undoubtedly each man will have his own particular favourite. Some responding to tight-fitting, shape-hugging skirts, some to those that are made of multiple pleats, some to those slitted, at the back, side or front, some to those with a completely fly-away panel. But for me, and I'm sure many, many others, it's not so much the design that's important, it's the fabric. And the skirts that set my heart racing particularly fast are those made of soft, light, easily wind-blown material. Just the thought of a glimpse of a good looking woman walking towards me in one of those, a light breeze catching and momentarily lifting the hem just that little bit higher, offering me the sight of just a little more leg, is more than enough to send my blood pressure soaring. But, if I'm being absolutely honest, it's not just the sight of a great pair of legs beneath one of those skirts that really gets to me, though of course most of the time it has to be enough. No what really creates the full impact is the thought that goes with it, the thought of having my fingers slowly slipping up underneath that skirt, slipping up the full length of those beautiful, silky smooth legs. I've spent many happy hours during the warmer months, usually around lunch-time in a busy area, one of the inner city parks or a side-walk café, just watching the passing parade and keeping my eyes peeled for any young woman wearing one of those skirts. And I have lost count of how much time I have spent in quiet, somewhat philosophical thought during which I have tried to explain this attraction. After all, it's not as though women's legs aren't on show in many other ways, for instance when they wear shorts. But delightful though many a woman's bottom can be in a pair of tight fitting shorts; on the beach, during sport, and even on hot summer days when out shopping, at least for me, in shorts even a pair of really fine legs just doesn't have the same allure that a skirt adds. Over the years I have at various times expressed my preference to many women friends, and a few have thought enough about me to do their best to please me by occasionally keeping my predilection in mind when choosing what to wear on a date. Others have taken my comments as either some sort of implied criticism of their sense of fashion, or a few, as a typical masculine attempt to keep women in their subservient place. But even those who were willing to sometimes at least humour me showed from what, when and how they wore one that they didn't truly appreciate the depth of feelings that were there to be tapped. That is all except one, Vanessa. Chapter 2 Vanessa We had been seeing each other for several weeks, doing the sorts of things people do during that early stage of a possible longer-term relationship; lunches or dinners, a couple of films, once to a theatre, and had shared both her and my bed several times. She was strikingly attractive, a tall brunette with liquidly brown eyes, an excellent figure, including a pair of quite spectacular legs, and had quickly proved to be a creatively enthusiastic lover. But, perhaps because until then the opportunity hadn't really arisen, or maybe because I subconsciously hoped that things between us might gradually get even more serious, at that stage I hadn't voiced or given any other hint of my special predilection. But everything changed one fateful, and never to be forgotten Saturday. I forget now the exact reasons why we made the arrangement we did, I think she said she had some shopping to do, but we said we would meet for lunch at a place close by her apartment and then go on to an afternoon movie. I was running a bit early so rather than just sit and wait for her I went first to the movie complex to check on what was on offer before walking the rest of the way to the café. As luck would have it, and I thank heaven it did, Vanessa must have finished her shopping quicker than planned and had found she also had a little time to kill. As I turned the final corner I saw her coming from the other direction and although she was still quite some way off and was wearing something I had never seen her in before I instantly knew it was her. Of course at that stage I didn't know if she was wearing the dress because it was the first really warm day we'd had that spring, or that it was something she had bought while shopping and had liked it so much she had chosen to wear it straight away. But I instantly loved it! It was in what I think women call 'ice-cream' colours; light pastel shades of yellows, blues and dusky pinks that really showed off her permanently tanned looking olive skin. But it wasn't so much the colours that caught and held my attention, it was the style and even more especially the material. The top half was more than attractive enough to catch most men's gaze, its scoop neck and tailored fit showing off the size and shape of her beautiful breasts. But having registered all that my eyes automatically moved down, to see what was for me a truly fantastic skirt, hugging the line of her hips before flaring out into one that was full, and ended just a little above her knees. And what made it so absolutely perfect was that even from a fair distance I could tell from the way it gracefully moved that it must have been made from something resembling a fine, almost chiffon-like material. The sight of her dressed like that made me stop in my tracks and then just stare, and the fact that she hadn't yet seen me, knew she was early and so was taking her time to stop every now and then to look in shop windows, gave me plenty in which to do so. As I watched her moving, pausing, then moving again the skirt slowly swirled around her legs, its lightness keeping it in motion for just a second or so after she had actually stopped. I admit I was spellbound, completely oblivious of the people brushing past me, only half-hearing the one or two uttering a soft curse because I was blocking their way, utterly entranced by the vision of her in that skirt. But I wasn't so mesmerised that I didn't also react in what I guess was for me a completely predictable way, in just the one or two minutes I had before she happened to look up and spot me, I felt my cock responding to the feelings of arousal that just the sight of her had started. Then when she did look up and see me she smiled, but when she saw I was standing stock-still and just staring, the smile turned to a slightly puzzled frown. That change of expression was enough to suddenly bring me back to my senses and I mentally shook myself and moved towards her. 'You look absolutely stunning Vanessa!' I said when I reached her, then bent forward to kiss her cheek. 'You like it then?' she replied, stepping back to give me another look at her. 'I only just bought it, I couldn't resist, I simply had to wear it straight away.' 'It's fabulous, and you make it look it even more so.' 'When I first caught sight of you and saw that really odd look you had on your face, I wasn't sure.' 'I was blown away by how wonderful you look, that's all.' I said hurriedly, wanting to avoid having to get into complicated explanations right there on the street. 'Oh that's all right then.' she replied with a happy grin, then indicating the several bags in her hand, added. 'Now rather than take these things into the restaurant with us just come upstairs with me for a minute while I drop them off. O.K.?' 'Of course.' I said, then we turned and headed for the entrance to her apartment building. As she lived on the first floor we never bothered to wait for the lift so I followed her up the two relatively short flights of stairs, and right then wished they had in fact been very, very much longer, Whether consciously or not I let her get several steps ahead of me before following her, so as we went up my eyes were just about level with the hem of her skirt. Then I watched as the soft fabric swayed and swirled around her legs, my hands itching to reach forward beneath it and touch her. I felt both my heart beating faster and stronger as it pumped blood down to my groin, and my already partially aroused cock quickly lengthening and thickening. And although the climb was quite short the effect of what I was seeing and feeling was so strong that by the time she had opened the door and we went inside I could tell I already had a full-blown erection. I had never before reacted so fast, or so powerfully, and the only explanation I have for what I did next was that it was the very speed and force of the effect of it on me that made me do what I did. We had gone straight through to the lounge and she'd carried the bags across to put them down on the sofa on the far side of the room, then started sorting through their contents. 'I won't be a moment, my wallet's down here somewhere.' she said. Of course as she bent forward to reach down into the bags the back of her skirt rose a little, and just that slight movement was enough to trigger an irresistible urge to do something, do anything that would improve my view. So, quite mindlessly I dropped down on one knee, changing the angle I was seeing her from and at the same time taking the opportunity to adjust my almost painfully cramped cock into a more comfortable position. But of course just then she found what she'd been looking for, straightened up and turned round, to catch me in that position. 'What! Are you all right Frank?' she asked with a worried look on her face. 'Uh, yes, quite O.K. Your legs, they look even more fabulous than usual in that.' I stammered unthinkingly as I dropped the rest of the way to end up sitting on the floor. 'My legs, in this dress?' she said, obviously momentarily unsure as to whether she should enjoy the compliment, or be concerned by my strange behaviour. But her feminine susceptibility to flattery was the stronger and even as she spoke she reached for her skirt and lifted it a little as she looked down. The compulsion I'd felt to reach forward and slip my hands under her skirt when we'd been coming up the stairs grew even stronger, became quite uncontrollable and as I shifted myself so I could lean back against a nearby arm-chair I heard myself muttering hoarsely. 'Come closer Vanessa, over here, please! Let me touch you.' Of course I had no idea what was going through her mind, and she could obviously tell that something unusual was going on in mine, but she both trusted me enough and was sufficiently curious to find out what that was, so did as I'd asked. As she came across to stand beside me time seemed to slow right down, as though I was watching a slow motion re-play. As she took the first step I saw the skirt drifting towards me, its edge lifting, exposing a little more flesh to my staring eyes. Then there was a slow swirl of settling fabric as her weight shifted forward, then another forward and upward drifting movement as her other leg followed. She needed at least half a dozen steps to cross the room and each one sent a surge of excitement through me, and although by then I ached to actually touch her, if I'd had some way to slow time even further, I would have used it. Then she stood there, I glanced up to see her looking down at me, her facial expression still showing the same worried puzzlement, but the look in her eyes also hinting at some barely suppressed sense of anticipation as I lifted my hands and touched her. Her bare skin was warm and smooth and I let my finger-tips trace small patterns on it as they slipped up and down over her calves and in and out of the indented area at the back of her knees. At first I half expected her to have second thoughts about what was happening and quickly draw away again and I mentally prepared myself for that moment of disappointment. But when she continued to stand still I nervously let my fingers slowly creep a little higher, edging somewhat hesitantly towards the hem-line of the skirt. And once she'd let me cross that boundary both my confidence and inner excitement went up several large notches. Still keeping my fingers to those slow, feather-light movements I let them move more confidently higher, up beneath the skirt, thrilling as I felt the even warmer, and very much softer skin on her thighs. 'That's nice!' she said softly, barely breaking the tension-packed silence around us. Then, to my absolutely delighted amazement she lifted one leg, and swinging it up over mine, re-balanced herself astride them. 'Is this what you really wanted?' she asked in the same low voice. 'Yes, thank you.' I somehow managed to croakily answer. 'And it's better for me too.' she added as my hands began to roam more freely. The situation was all my favourite fantasies come true, a truly stunning pair of legs, beneath what was for me the absolutely perfect skirt, and I was apparently being allowed to stroke and caress them to my heart's content. Whether Vanessa just then somehow guessed what would make the situation even more exciting for me, or it was just that what I was doing was getting to her too, I didn't know, but after no more than a minute or so she began to slowly and gently sway her hips. Of course her skirt followed, its movements adding yet another layer of unreality to the dream-like scene I was experiencing. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, my hands drifting up and down beneath her swaying skirt, slipping over and around her thighs, and all the time gradually, almost imperceptibly inching just a little higher. Then, just as she had before it was Vanessa who actually took things up to the next, perhaps by then inevitable level. At first, when she shifted her leg back to stand beside me again I thought she'd grown tired of pandering to my strange tastes, but then she reached up beneath her skirt and in what seemed like one swift movement, took off her panties. I had a brief glimpse of something flimsy and yellow as she tossed them aside then she swung her leg back over me, and moved forward until the hem of her skirt brushed my face. 'I'm all yours now Frank.' she said in a low, breathy whisper as my hands slipped back up her legs. What she'd done to co-operate told me she was getting much more from what we were doing than just the satisfaction of pleasing me, and that encouraged me to take things even further than I'd initially imagined possible. 'Come a little closer then.' I said, one hand pressing against the backs of her knee, then the other lifting the hem of her skirt over my head as she did as I'd asked and moved forward. Of course with my head actually up under her skirt I normally wouldn't have been able to see very much, but once again I had sheer luck on my side. Because the dress was made of such fine fabric and the sunshine was streaming in through the window behind her, although the light was diffused there was enough to see more than just the silhouetted outline of her body. Although Vanessa had been blessed with a mass of luxuriantly thick, dark brown hair, unlike many other brunettes the rest of her body was virtually free of it, that is apart from the area around her pubis. But because she was so self-conscious about that she was fastidious in shaving herself and the first time we'd had sex I had been excitedly delighted to find that while her mound was covered with a small, dense but neatly trimmed mat, her pussy was totally hairless. So even in that dim light I could clearly see the outline of the dark triangle of hair, its tip, like some blatantly erotic sign pointing down to where the core of her sex lay still hidden. It may have been hidden from sight but there was nothing Vanessa could do about cloaking the other, and even stronger indicator of its presence, and not only its presence but also its condition. The moment I'd lifted her skirt I'd caught the first whiff of it, once I had it immediately above me the scent became even stronger, the unmistakable and headily powerful scent of her sexual arousal. But doing my best to ignore the thoughts and urges that the combination of the image and the aroma conjured up, for the next minute or two I did no more than I had already done, slowly stroking her legs with my finger-tips, tracing increasingly complex patterns on her silky smooth skin, and lightly running them up and down the outsides of her thighs. However, her actions, what she'd said about her body being all mine and the knowledge that she was already physically excited from what I'd been doing gave me the confidence to progress and I soon began letting my hands roam even more freely. As well as continuing to caress the length of her thighs I occasionally let one move higher, slipping it up over the soft swell of her stomach, while the other moved around to stroke the taut, full swell of her bottom. And then instead of returning those back down the sides of her legs I slid them around to the warmer, even softer and much more sensitive skin on her inner thighs. Although I'd been registering both Vanessa's occasional soft sighs and the light shivers that my caressing sent running up through her the moment I touched those parts her reactions grew much, much stronger. I could not only sense but feel the growing tension in her body and guessed that while part of her was aching for my fingers to head straight for her sex, in another she was hoping the slow, almost teasing prelude would continue. And although by then the pressure of my throbbingly swollen cock straining against my pants had become almost unbearable I knew that the longer I held off the more dramatically satisfying the final outcome would be, for both of us. So, ignoring the signals I was getting to speed things along I continued at the same slow, inexorable pace and even when one hand had finally reached high enough, at first I did no more than lightly brush my finger-tips briefly over the outermost lips of her pussy. But of course my intention had never been to torment her beyond endurance and when some time later I heard her more rasping gasps of growing arousal and felt the increasing muscular tension as she fought to control her urge to simply ram herself down on to my fingers I relented. Slipping lower at the same time as I pushed myself forward, I arched myself upwards, pressed my mouth to her, and slid my tongue into the furrow between her pussy-lips. Even though I'd been hearing and feeling the signs of her mounting excitement I simply couldn't believe just how wet she actually was, and as I pushed my tongue up between the clinging folds I felt some of her juices running into my mouth and trickling down over my chin. Having finally reached that point I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed me to stop even if for some perverted reason I'd wanted to, but of course I didn't and a few minutes later my flickering tongue gave her what was obviously a truly enormous orgasm. But then even before she had fully recovered her breath I felt her pushing herself backwards. 'And now for the main course!' she said in a low growl as she squatted above me and began frantically unfastening my belt. I lifted my bottom as she tugged my trousers down, then she paused and looked up at me. 'It looks as though you got a bit over-excited Frank.' she said as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my briefs. I glanced down at the rearing bulge my cock was making and saw what she meant, the dark stain made by the copious amount of pre-cum that had been oozing from me all that time was all too obvious. And when she then carefully slid the briefs down to release it my lividly swollen cock sprang violently upright. 'Shit, that looks even bigger than usual!' she gasped. 'And that's not to imply I've had any complaint in that department, far from it!' she added with a tight grin, then said in a more concerned voice. 'You must have got stirred up very quickly Frank.' Skirts 'I've had a hard-on since we were down in the street.' I explained. 'Just from seeing me?' she asked in a surprised tone of voice as she slipped her fingers of one hand around the base of the throbbing shaft. 'Yes.' 'Well, well, you must tell me what brought than on.' she said as she used her other hand to lift her skirt as she raised herself up over me. 'But let's leave that until later, for now - ooh yeesss!' she gasped as she steadied my cock and pushed herself down on to it. She gave a sharper and deeper grunt as she felt the rock-hard mass stretching her pussy wide open, but she was apparently determined to take the entire length of it deep inside herself in one continuous movement. And she did. And because the unexpectedness and intensity of the sensations that suddenly coursed through me as her slickly tight pussy drove down the full length of the shaft were so truly mind-blowing their impact drove the air out of my lungs in an explosive gasp. 'I don't think this is going to take very long!' she said throatily as she began pushing herself up and down I normally like to watch myself having sex, finding the sight of my cock thrusting back and forth adds to the thrills, but of course that time, as it was all going on under her skirt I couldn't. But for once it didn't seem to matter, in fact in some odd way experiencing the physical sensations without seeing what was generating them just seemed to make the situation even more exciting. And anyway I really doubt I was capable of registering anything stronger right then because as she was holding herself completely upright as she rode me, the effect was like having a suction pump attached to my cock. So each time she pushed herself up and down the intensity of the thrills that coursed through me were simply unbelievable. So, as she'd anticipated, what she was doing to me proved to be just too effective, and far, far more quickly than I really wanted I suddenly felt the unmistakable signs of my rapidly approaching orgasm. Vanessa obviously also felt the sudden change in my body and sped up her action, but as she continued to hold herself perfectly upright the tightness and suction of her pussy remained just as strong. For once there was simply no way I could control my reactions, my entire body arched, lifting her with me as I heaved upwards and my jerkily thrusting hips drove my cock even deeper. But she took it all, and as she continued to ram herself up and down, cried out. 'Come Frank! Come, come now!' And a few all too short seconds later, as the ecstatic thrills ripped through my body, I heard the sound of my own deep guttural grunts of euphoric release keeping time with the powerful series of blasts from my semen spewing cock. Chapter 3 Tentative Exploration Some time later, after we'd both recovered from the force and the unexpectedness of our coupling we decided against following our original plan, and after freshening up we just made ourselves something to eat in her kitchen. 'Now, so I'll have some idea of what to do when I want a repeat performance of something like that you must tell me exactly what got you so excited.' she said once we had sat down to eat. 'I've always had a thing about skirts.' I replied. 'But you've seen me in skirts before, several times, you've never reacted like that.' 'It's the fabric, soft and swirly. That sort of skirt really gets to me - and of course you have really superb legs. I guess the fact that you were wearing something like that and I saw you when I wasn't expecting to, then watching you as you climbed up the stairs ahead of me.' I paused for a moment, then added. 'I suppose it was a combination of things really.' 'So it's the swirly skirts you really like?' 'Mmm, yes.' 'I'll remember that, I can see I'll have to do a bit more shopping.' she said with a grin. 'You didn't find my reactions and what I did a bit weird?' 'I was puzzled at first, of course, but everyone has their own special triggers and I don't think there's anything especially weird about you liking women in swirly skirts. And of course I loved what you did to me.' she added with a meaningful smile. 'Yes you did seem to get turned on pretty strongly.' 'That's an understatement, just the way you were stroking my legs got me excited, then having you down there, looking up at me while you were doing it, that literally turned my insides to jelly.' she replied. 'You liked me looking up at you?' 'Oh yes, it was very, very sexy!' 'Well maybe we can do it again, come up with a few variations.' 'I'd like that Frank.' she replied throatily. And that's exactly what we did, Vanessa did quite a bit of shopping, finding not only several skirts that she thought would appeal to me but also buying herself a few pairs of stockings to go with them. Then from time to time during the next few weeks she would surprise and excite me by appearing in one of her new purchases, and I would take that as my cue to find different ways of getting us started. Compared with some of the things we did later the first time was pretty tame, I just lay on the floor while she walked around and then back and forth over me, but the results were very effective. The next time she asked me to strip first - 'So I can see your reaction.' - she explained. We found that she got even more excited when she could actually watch my cock stiffening up so we used that method the next few times. I suppose we'd done variations of that kind of thing half a dozen times before we talked about what was actually going on between us. It was Vanessa that started us talking, we were lying together on her bed after a particularly satisfying session, at that moment simply lightly, somewhat absentmindedly caressing each other as our bodies slowly recovered. 'I've never met a man who can get so strongly turned-on the way you do Frank.' she said softly. 'I mean I know men like looking at women, get excited by looking down between their breasts, or up their skirts. That seems to be common to just about every man, of whatever age. But what excites you is so very specific, and the way you react seems much, much stronger. Can you explain just why you like skirts so much?' I had never previously met a woman who was really prepared to truly accept my proclivity, and had certainly never met one who was not only accepting of what I liked, but who actually enjoyed participating in it. So I'd never had to explain to anyone just why I reacted the way I did, and I needed time to think as to whether or not I actually wanted to answer. 'I'm not really sure, I might have to think about that for a bit.' I replied. 'It's just that I thought it might help us make it even better than it already is.' she replied suggestively. 'You stay there and have a think about it while I go and freshen up and make us some tea.' she said as she slid out of bed and headed for the bath-room. Of course having been given the idea that she was prepared to think of ways of making what we did even better, although at that moment I couldn't imagine what that would be, I did as she'd asked. In fact the answer that I had given her, that I wasn't really sure what had initiated my odd predilection, was in fact just a cover, a white lie. I knew very well what had got me started, in fact the memory of the events of that day had, over the intervening years, been replayed many, many hundreds of times. Chapter 4 Explanations I was between eleven and twelve and as I had started the mysterious process of going through puberty a year or so before I was familiar with some of the stuff that was happening. Of coping with the embarrassment of my still diminutive dick getting hard at inappropriate times. Of occasionally waking up to find I'd made a sticky mess in my pyjamas. And although at that stage I still hadn't tried it myself, of course I'd heard many boys talking about the joys of wanking. My sister, who was year or so older went to a girls' school that held an annual fete, and as I wasn't old enough to protest sufficiently cogently I was still being dragged along to it with my parents. That particular year, in recognition of the trend towards multi-culturalism one of the entertainments was a series of different countries' folk dances being put on by fifteen or twenty girls. Each one wore the costume of a different country and had a three or four minute solo. By the time I'd sat through half a dozen or those I was of course bored absolutely rigid and started to think how I could get myself out of there. Not very originally, but sufficiently effectively I whispered to my mother that I had to go to the toilet. She nodded, whispered I should be careful not to disturb anyone as I left the seats and with a relieved sigh of grateful relief I did so. The toilet block was off to one side of the elevated stage where the girls were dancing, the entrance discretely shielded from both them and the audience by a line of shrubbery. As luck would have it, and down through the years I have thanked my stars countless times, just as I got to the near end of the hedge one dance came to an finish and another girl stepped up to do hers. I guess I first noticed her because she was a bit older than the others I'd seen, she was probably about fourteen or fifteen, but was already physically well-developed, and had much more prominent breasts than the previous girls. And, strange to say and purely coincidentally, just like Vanessa, she had long, very dark brown hair and big, really dark eyes. Those were the things that first caught my eye, the twin bulge of her breasts, then her hair and eyes, and then the temptingly large swell of her breasts again. But then, while I was still standing looking up at her, the music started and she began to dance. The costume she was wearing had a big flared skirt, but underneath it were layers and layers of very fine petticoats, so as she began to step and turn the layers began to swirl around with her. I stared up at her, that time at her legs, they were long, tanned and shapely and as I was looking up from beneath her I got the impression that if everything happened exactly right, at any moment I would actually be able to see all the way up them. With what I could already see augmented by that thought, within just a matter of a few seconds I felt my dick start to stiffen, then getting really, really hard. It had never happened so quickly before, and from the strength of the pressure I could feel as it pushed against my shorts, it seemed to be getting even bigger and harder than it usually did. Of course at that age kids are super-sensitive to everything about themselves and I guiltily looked hurriedly around to see if anyone had noticed what was happening to me, but was relieved that the few people who might have were too intent on watching what was going on up on the stage. Like them, but for completely different reasons, there was no way I was going to miss the rest of this girl's dance, but at the same time I was too embarrassed by my instantaneous and powerful reaction to stay just where I was. So I moved further along the hedge until I was in the small space between it and the wall of toilet block, and found that from there I was completely hidden from view, but, through a convenient gap in the bushes, I could still see the girl dancing. Although the sight of her, of her long, long legs, moving quickly but gracefully within that swirling frothy cloud had me completely mesmerised, in some small portion of my brain I suddenly remembered what I'd heard the boys talking about, about wanking themselves off. The combination of what they'd said and the way the girl continued to affect what was happening to my dick was simply too much, and in spite of the risk of being caught I knew I really had no option, I had to give it a try. So as I stood there, cramped in that narrow space, peering up through the bush at the girl's legs above me, I unzipped myself, then somehow managed to push my underpants down off my straining dick. Then, just as I curled my fingers around it, almost as though the girl knew I was there and sensed what I'd need, she started doing a series of long, fast spinning turns, gradually working her way across the back of the stage towards a spot that would be almost immediately above me. Of course from the angle the audience was watching all they would see were her flashing legs and the twirling layers of swirling petticoats. But as she drew closer I could see more, much more, see right up the length of her thighs, right up to the intermittent flash of brilliantly white panties. From the moment I'd seen her skirt and petticoats rise as she span my hand had begun jerking back and forth, but of course nothing I'd heard about wanking had given me any idea of the real strength of the sensations it produced. They were indescribably wonderful, unlike anything I'd ever experienced or could even have imagined, and once started there was nothing on earth that could have stopped me continuing. So as she slowly moved closer and closer my hand went faster and faster, flashing up and down the rock-hard length, each movement sending waves of excruciatingly intense pleasure shooting through me. The very last of those fast spinning turns was thankfully even longer than the others, and that was the one she did almost immediately above me. I stared upwards, no doubt open mouthed and goggle-eyed at the sight. Through the frothy swirling cloud I could see right up her legs, see her panties, see how tightly they clung to the twin cheeks of her bottom, and, every now and then, even the pronounced bulge in their crotch. It was too much, I felt a rapidly growing ache in my balls, then a sudden quite dizzying rush, and before I even knew what was really happening I was gripped by some overwhelmingly ecstatic force, and as my wide staring eyes clamped tightly shut, my dick erupted. So I lay there, hearing Vanessa moving around in the kitchen, closing down those still all too vivid memories of that long ago day, wondering if I could, or even wanted to, finally try to share with somebody else at least something of what I'd experienced back then. Some minutes later she returned with the tea and as she got back into bed beside me she said. 'Well, have you been thinking about it?' 'Mmm, yes I have.' I replied, sipping the tea as I struggled with the decision as to whether or not I should share my memories with her. 'You see I can remember something from when I was girl, something that I'm sure is the key to why I enjoy having you look at me. I thought we could swap, that is if you know what did, or does it for you.' Her suggestion tipped the balance in my thinking, merely telling her my experience was one thing, exchanging hers and mine was a completely different proposition. So, taking a large mouthful of tea I said it was a pretty long, involved story, but I would tell her. 'Oh good!' she exclaimed. 'Just give me a minute to get comfortable, and don't leave out any of the details, no matter how gory they are.' she added with a wickedly mischievous smile, then quickly finished her tea and snuggled down beside me. So that she could better understand the full impact of what had happened and although it took a bit of time to do so, I felt it was worth giving her a rough background to the situation, what kind of boy I was, how green and totally inexperienced about anything to do with sex, that sort of thing. Then, taking her at her word about wanting to hear all the detail, I told her exactly what had happened. At first she just lay there, her arm lightly pressing down across my stomach as she listened attentively, but once I got to the part where I was beside the stage and looking up at the girl, I felt her body tensing. And by the time I was telling her about how the girl's spinning had forced me to furiously wank myself, she'd pulled back her arm and I knew from its movements exactly where it was and what her fingers were doing. 'Now that really was a life changing experience Frank.' she said in a somewhat throaty voice when I'd finished. 'I can completely understand how it would have a long-term affect on your sex-life. Did anything happen later, I mean later in life, something that might have further reinforced that powerful experience?' 'No, not really, I don't think it was necessary. You see I'd got into the habit of replaying that time, I mean whenever I needed to relieve myself of tension, you know.' 'Masturbate.' 'Yes, exactly. I didn't use it every time, I wasn't completely obsessed by just that one thing, like any man I developed plenty of other fantasies, and of course as I've matured in reality I like to touch as well as look. But in spite of the other ideas that I've added it's still the one that I can always go back to, over and over again.' 'So have you shared it with anyone else, I mean before this?' 'No, nobody.' 'I'm flattered that I've been so privileged. Why me?' 'Well for one thing you asked. But there's much more to it than that. You're the first woman I've known who has been prepared to get actively involved, there have been a couple who understood that I liked them best when they wore skirts. But even they never tried to get any deeper, if you understand?' 'Yes, I think so. But of course they may not have had the same reactions that I do.' 'And that's another, in some ways even more important reason. I mean it would be one thing if you were prepared to humour me, do things just because you knew it pleased and excited me. But if that was all it was I know that after a while I'd just start to feel selfish. But because I know you also get something out of what we do I don't have to feel, well, guilty. Does that make sense?' 'Of course it does. But I don't just get 'something' out of what we do, believe me, in my own way I get just as excited as you do Frank.' 'So, are you going to tell me why? We were sharing, remember.' 'Of course I will, if that's what you'd like.' 'Please.' I replied as I slid one arm around her and bent to kiss her. 'That was nice, we'll have more of that later please.' she said when we came up for air. 'Now, although mine's much shorter than yours was, settle yourself down and I'll tell you a story. Like you, it was something that happened to me as a girl that got me started. I've heard it said many times that childhood sexual experiences mark us for life, and if what happened to you and me are anything to go by, it's true. I was a bit older than you were, somewhere between thirteen and fourteen, so I was well into puberty, and had been having my periods for over a year. I had cousins living close to where we did, there were three of them, a girl the same age as me and who went to the same school I did, then two boys, one younger, the other about seventeen or eighteen. Her parents were wealthier than mine were, had a bigger house and a swimming pool in their back yard, so in the summer I was often around there at week-ends. Carrie, my cousin, as well as everything else we had in common, was on the same netball team that I was and what happened took place one Saturday morning when we had just come back after playing. Their house was two storeys and at the back, overlooking the pool, they'd had a timber deck built. I don't know if it was them or the builder that had tried to save a bit of money in building it but the floor planks had been set a bit too far apart, and we were forever seeing small things we'd dropped roll down between them. Anyway, a week or so before Carrie's mother had broken her ankle, so it was in plaster and she hadn't come to the game as she usually did, but when we got back we found her sitting out on the deck with some cold drinks for us. So of course Carrie and I went straight out to join her and having gulped down the first drink we started telling her all the stuff that she'd missed. Skirts What I didn't know was that the older son was also at home, which was unusual for him, and right then he was lying, sunbathing, beside the pool beneath us. Of course you're familiar with netball gear, those short, flared skirts. The older girls were always joking about how many fathers used to say they'd come to watch their daughter playing, when what they were really doing was just getting a chance to perve on the rest of us. Well I guess when the noise of our chatter made him look up, the combination of the wide gaps in the decking slats and the flared shortness of my skirt gave Carrie's brother the chance to see most of what I'd got. When we'd finished recounting the game Carrie's mother said she had to go and do something about lunch so asked Carrie to help get her back inside. As she told me another pair of hands would just get in the way I stayed out on the deck, and having poured myself another drink, I went over and leaned on the rail. And it was only then that I saw my cousin lying below me, in just a small pair of swimming shorts. Of course he didn't know I was going to suddenly look down, so he didn't have time to cover up what had happened during the time he'd been looking up at me. And as I was then standing at the edge of the deck he would have also had a much clearer, and then totally unobstructed view straight up my legs. So, for a few seconds we both froze, me looking down at him while he stared wide-eyed up at me, and like you with your memories of the girl dancing, the image I saw has remained perfectly clear in my head. He had obviously initially been reading, one hand was still holding the book as it hung down beside him, and as the other arm was still where it had been, up behind and supporting his head, so the rest of his body was totally exposed. And even from a few metres above his cock looked simply enormous. It was sticking virtually all the way down one leg of the shorts, and because it had got so hard and was stretching the thin nylon so tight I could clearly see both its size and its shape. By that age I naturally knew enough about the mechanics of sex to know what an erection was, well in theory I did, but of course until then I'd never actually seen one. Not that I could really see his, but its outline was so sharp I had no trouble in picturing what I thought the rest of its detail would actually look like. And even as I continued staring down and did just that I felt as though my knees were going all wobbly, felt a warm, surging rush between my legs, felt exactly the same things I did whenever I touched myself down there. Then of course he moved, quickly, dropping his book and reaching across to cover his cock with that hand as he used his other arm to push himself up off the ground, then dived into the pool to cool off. I stood there, trembling for a few moments, then realising just how embarrassed we'd both be if we had to face each other after what had happened, I made some excuse to Carrie's mother, and hurried home. But I couldn't get the image of what I'd seen out of my head and the warm, squirmy feeling inside seemed to get stronger and stronger so, just like you did when you were standing beside the stage, I knew I simply had to find some way of relieving that tension. So when I got home I made some hurried excuse to Mum about Carrie's mother not being able to get lunch that day, then flew up to the bath-room, locked the door and frigged myself to two super-fast orgasms. And, again just like you, that image of Carrie's brother lying there with his massive erection straining up against his shorts has remained with me down through all these years. And sometimes I use it to get myself going when I've felt the need for a bit of solo pleasure.' 'And you've kept that image even after you'd seen the real thing in glorious technicolour?' I said humorously as a way of breaking the tension I'd heard building in her voice. She giggled. 'Mmm, though it's true I augmented it with others. As I'm sure you've guessed by now, I mean from some of the things I like us doing together, I do like looking at cocks, well nice big ones, like yours.' 'Is mine big, I mean by comparison?' 'Of course it is, you must know that!' 'How would I? Men don't go around comparing their size with each other. Some boys may do that in the early years of puberty, though I never did.' 'But other women you've been with must have said something.' 'No, it's the first time anyone has.' 'I'm surprised Frank. I would have thought, oh well, never mind that. Yes, yours is big, and nicely shaped too, long, thick and straight. And I especially love its head; it gets a beautifully bulbous helmet shape, and goes a lovely purple colour, dark and glossy. But of course what's really important is that you know how to use it to please a girl.' she added with a soft chuckle as she slid her hand down between my legs. Chapter 5 Analysis and Action Recounting our childhood memories had obviously re-stirred both our internal fires and we spent the next half hour slowly building them higher, then quenching them with a spectacularly synchronised pair of orgasms. 'And that's exactly what I meant about you knowing how to use it.' she said between deep gasps of breath a short time after we'd rolled apart. 'Although I simply adore all the other things we do together there's really nothing like a bout of love-making as strong as that one was, is there?' 'Too true.' I replied as I lay waiting for my still racing heart to slow just a little more before moving. Then, perhaps as I felt it needed a bit more time to do that I added. 'But we left what we were saying still unfinished, though I'm certainly not complaining that we did.' I said as I pulled her a little closer. 'But I don't think you'd completely finished what you were telling me, you said you liked looking at cocks, then we digressed. From the little I know about women, I got the impression that actually seeing one more usually ends in a fit of the giggles.' 'I know what you mean, when you get a group of girls or women together I think that's true. I mean when you see pictures of women at a hens' night where they've got men stripping, all you see are embarrassed giggles and laughs. I know men can do that too, but if you compared pictures of both I'm sure you'd also find many men just quietly staring, but there wouldn't be any women looking like that in the other picture. Unless I'd been there!' she added. 'Maybe I'm just peculiar, but I'm not embarrassed to say it, I think a man's cock, well some men's cocks, are a fantastic turn-on, at least when they're up and ready for action. I've always thought it was the ultimate form of sexual discrimination to allow men's magazines to show women's bodies in detail and not allow similar pictures of men. I mean it's ridiculous if you think about it. A man's cock when limp is only good for one thing, and that's pissing, what's the point of allowing supposedly sexy magazines to print it like that, but not allow them to show it when it's ready for the sex act itself!' 'But would women like that?' 'Women like me would, and I'm sure I'm not completely alone. Anyway nobody's forcing the others to look if they don't want to. The way things are is actually nothing more than sexually based censorship.' 'When you put it like that you have to wonder why.' 'Oh that's easy, and don't get the idea I'm some sort of rabid feminist because I'm not, but it's still men who make the laws.' 'So?' 'So old, ego driven men in parliament don't want to have to face the fact that what they themselves have got between their legs just don't measure up. Well certainly not to the kind of cocks most women want. And while the argument that remains in the women's camp is about who's got the best tits and arses, they can hide their own physical inadequacies behind some hundred year old law.' But what she said wasn't driven by just some intellectual irritation, she was serious. And when I thought about it I felt sure that although it sounded as though Vanessa thought the two aspects of her sexuality were totally separate, I became convinced they were actually strongly inter-connected. In her mind the fact that she enjoyed and got excited by seeing a strong, good-looking erection was merely comparable to the way a man reacted to a sight of a woman's naked bottom or breasts. And the turn-on she got from knowing a man got aroused by looking up her legs, as her cousin had done, was a completely different source of sexual excitement. But to me it seemed that the fact that although she'd seen the evidence that her cousin had got an erection, the reality of it, his cock, had still been hidden, had in itself created some long-lasting inner need. So while we were each fulfilling each other's deepest fantasies, enacting them with someone like me, a man not only willing but eager to allow his fantasies out into the open, actually provided her with two, strongly inter-linked forms of arousal. One from knowing a man was being stimulated by just seeing her, the other from her being able to actually see the physical result. Arriving at that conclusion gave me a good deal to think about. I liked Vanessa, liked her a lot, and not just for the totally satisfying sexual relationship we were having, though that was undoubtedly the pre-eminent component. But even apart from the way our sexual needs meshed; she was stunningly attractive, witty, highly intelligent, and obviously liked me too, which always helps! So the motivation to improve what we already enjoyed doing together was strong, and I spent several quiet evenings just thinking of ways I could try to do that. The first thought I had was to somehow set up a recreation of the event that had triggered her fixation, but although I came up with what I thought could work, it would be tricky to set up and might prove to be a bit over the top as a first attempt. So I came up with a couple of less blatant situations, my idea being that if they proved successful I could always move on to try the more dramatic stuff later. But then my brain made one of those subconscious connections between two completely separate things which can result in what are often called 'Eureka!' moments. I remembered that a few months before I'd seen in one of the newspapers a special supplement featuring places that offered what were termed 'idyllic week-end get-aways'. And that for some completely unknown reason, even then one of the places had particularly caught my eye. Of course I hadn't kept the feature and couldn't remember the name of the place, but thank heavens for the Internet! It didn't take long to track it down and when I checked out the details of what they had to offer it sounded absolutely perfect. It was a pretty old place, not one of the more recently built, super-trendy establishments, which suited my limited pocket pretty well. But even if it had been expensive I think I'd have managed to convince myself it would be a good investment, because the cabins they had were constructed in the old-fashioned A-frame design. The pictures of a typical interior showed an open plan lower level and suspended above the rear half, reached by a low-raked set of stairs at one side, was a platform style mezzanine that housed the sleeping area and bathroom. And unlike many later versions of the style, where actual walls enclosed the upper section, these merely had a single safety rail stopping anyone from stepping off into space. There were warnings about the accommodation being unsuitably dangerous for children, but for us, the design was absolutely perfect! At that point in the relationship Vanessa and I hadn't actually spent a whole night together, until then each of us had preferred to head back to our place once we were ready to call a halt to our sexual activities. So before making any further enquiries I sounded her out about the idea of us actually going away somewhere for a week-end. 'You mean for a dirty week-end?' she replied with a cheeky grin. 'Something like that.' 'Great idea! Where? When?' she asked eagerly. 'Well I've got an idea about a place you might like, but I haven't taken it any further than that yet, I wanted to see how you felt first.' 'I'll be in it, so where is it?' 'Just up the coast a bit, a couple of hours drive at the most. If you like we could go up on a Friday evening, after work, that would give us Friday and Saturday nights together. If you think can put up with me for that long.' I added with a grin. 'It's more important that you're confident you can keep it up for that long.' she answered with a wicked smile. Chapter 6 Friday Night So, having worked out which week-ends we were both free of other commitments I made a call, and after checking out a few other details, made sure I'd booked one particular cabin for us. Then having done that I paid visits to both an electrical and a men's wear store and made a few small but hopefully more than useful purchases. Although getting out of the city was the usual hassle the rest of the drive North was totally uneventful and as I'd previously let the proprietor know we'd be arriving a bit late, we had time to stop at a reasonably good restaurant for a meal before we checked-in. We'd had a decent bottle of wine with the meal and what with that and the muted, but all too obvious sense of anticipation we were both experiencing, we were undoubtedly more than ready for whatever fun and games the week-end had in store for us. So when we walked into our cabin, turned the lights on and Vanessa stopped to look around it, it took her about five seconds flat to understand exactly why I had brought her there. 'Oh you clever, clever man!' she said with breathless excitement. 'They must have had us in mind when they built it. And I hope they do room service, I don't think we'll be going out very much!' she added as her eyes stared up at the bedroom level. 'I hope you brought a couple of skirts with you.' I replied as I took her in my arms. 'As if I wouldn't have.' she managed to reply before our lips and bodies clamped tightly together. 'I'll just have a quick shower while you get unpacked.' I said when we broke for air. 'And I had the girl in the restaurant add a second bottle of wine to the bill, if you fancy a little more.' 'Oh, yes please, I liked that one. But don't take too long in the bath-room, I don't have that much to unpack, and I want a quick shower too.' she replied. Having poured a couple of glasses of wine I unpacked the few things I had brought then headed off to take a short but nicely refreshing shower. But even though it was quick it was quite long enough for the thoughts buzzing around inside my head to at least start to have their predictable effect. We had two nights and a day and a half ahead of us, with nothing to do but excite and pleasure each other. We had a place that seemed to provide exactly the conditions for what had been underpinning each of our separate fantasy situations. And the woman I was sharing this time, place and opportunity with was not only super-attractive, but both super-sexy and super-willing too! So by the time I'd finished my shower I wasn't that surprised to see that my cock, although nowhere near erect, had reached that early state of arousal we call half-mast. Then once dry, I slipped into one of the purchases I'd made, a pair of pure silk boxer shorts. I normally prefer the comfort of briefs but considering the details of Vanessa's initial experience I'd felt sure that when the time came she would rather I was wearing something that would allow her to more clearly see how I was responding. And when I checked the effect in the mirror and saw how the silk clung to just my partially swollen cock I felt sure that when the time came she'd heartily agree with my decision. But of course a degree of suspenseful anticipation also played an important part in our mutual enjoyment so I added shirt and trousers before leaving the bath-room. My timing was good, Vanessa had just about finished sorting her things out and was standing, taking a few sips of wine as she waited for me. 'All yours.' I said, then added. 'And don't you be too long either.' 'I won't, I'll just get the city grime off.' she replied with a smile as she gathered up her shower things and some fresh clothes. Once she'd disappeared inside I went out to the car and brought in the two boxes I'd bought at the electrical store, they were wide-angled interior spot-lights. Having turned off the lights on the upper level I went back down and plugged them in, then spent a minute or two moving them and a few bits of furniture around until I found what I thought would be the best positions for everything. Then I turned off the rest of the lights to check their full effect, one seemed perfect and although the second was harder to judge I thought it would be too, and having put their remote controls in a convenient place I turned them both off and switched on just one of the small table-lamps. With such a low level of lighting I knew that when Vanessa came out of the much more brightly lit bath-room she'd be virtually unsighted for the minute or two it would take her eyes to adjust, and if she was dressed as I hoped and expected she would be, that would be fine, for both of us. Then with a last quick check of everything I stripped down to just the pair of silk boxer shorts, and waited. My thinking was that right at that moment she was probably experiencing the same sort of excited anticipation that I had when I'd been in the shower. Her mind playing back some of the things we had already done to and with each other, and, knowing that for the next couple of days we wouldn't be restricted by time as were in the city, looking forward to being able to prolong and enjoy similar activities even more. I hoped that she had in fact been thinking those kinds of thoughts, and that as a result of them her physical arousal had already been stirred, and then that when she came out into totally unexpected virtual blackness she'd be both startled and maybe a little apprehensive. I knew that fear was well known as an adrenaline starter, and people having more than usually urgent sex after surviving some life-threatening event was well documented. Not that I wanted or intended to actually frighten Vanessa, but just startling her a bit should push her already stimulated hormone production along. And if she was dressed in something appropriate, in the time that she stood trying to work out what was going on, I would be standing beneath her, enjoying the view. And I was quite sure that once the situation was made clear to her she would have absolutely no objections to what I'd done. She didn't take much longer in the bath-room than I had and when she came out it was as though she had actually read the script I'd had in mind. Of course the first thing I noticed was what she was wearing, it was that dress, the one that had kick-started the whole thing! And of course I was thrilled to see it again! Then, having opened the door she turned and reached inside to switch off the light, closing the door behind herself as she turned around again, so of course her eyes had simply no time to adjust to the sudden darkness. I saw her hesitate for a moment, then gingerly step forward, reaching out for the hand-rail she knew was at the edge of the upper area. And that's when I switched on one of the spot-lights. The sudden brilliant light dazzled her and even as her hand found and took a firm grip of the hand-rail I saw her eyes automatically clamp tightly shut. So there she was, in exactly the position I'd hoped for; standing above me, the beam from the spot-light shining straight up at her. And, for at least those first few seconds undoubtedly feeling exactly the same as a rabbit transfixed by the beam from a car's headlight. Skirts At first the angle from where I was standing wasn't acute enough for me to actually see more than the overall scene, but I took a gamble that she wouldn't step back quickly, and heightened the sense of anticipation I was feeling by giving myself a few seconds more to enjoy it. As I'd noticed the first time I saw it the colours of the dress really complemented her silky olive skin, and the close-fitting top half showed-off both the size and shape of her fantastic breasts. But it was still that skirt that really drew and held my attention, the fine, chiffon-like material flaring out from where it hugged her waist and hip line, and then reaching down to just below her mid thigh. And of course just seeing that skirt again brought all the memories from the other time flooding back and they sent my excited arousal even higher and I felt my cock instantly stiffening. But then, although Vanessa was no doubt somewhat still startled and bewildered, she started to do what she had also done that previous time, but which I hadn't even dared to hope for, instead of standing frozen, she began to slowly move her hips from side to side. I moved further forward as her skirt began to sway to and fro, until I was standing virtually beneath her, staring straight up between her long, smoothly tanned looking legs. The light was so strong I could see absolutely everything and although I'd never actually seen them before, I recognised by the pale yellow colour of the small, flimsy panties as being the ones she'd so quickly stripped off the other time I'd seen that dress. At first I was so pleased that my careful planning had actually worked that again I really saw little more than that, this beautiful woman was standing there, slowly swaying her hips, and allowing me the indescribable pleasure of just looking up at her. But then, perhaps directed by some deeper, baser need, I began to observe the much finer detail of what I was seeing. The dark triangle of pubic hair showed quite clearly through the nylon that clung to her mound. And in fact the panties fitted her so snugly that I could even see not only that erotic triangle, but in the direction it was pointing, the bulging shape of her pussy, the puffy swell of its lips, and even the deep cleft down between them. It was everything I could have hoped for, and even more. When I'd previously tried to picture this first evening I'd imagined Vanessa in various things, desperately hoping that it would be one or other of the skirts she'd bought and not just her bath-robe. But in not one of the many, many images I'd created had I considered this, the truly iconic dress, and then beneath it, the almost transparently filmy panties. The picture she made was absolutely perfect! So I stood there, staring upwards, all too aware of the feel of my cock getting even harder as my mind flicked back and forth between the two events; the crystal clear reality of the vision above me, and the still sharp series of snap-shot memories of that first time. Of the first moment I'd caught sight of her in the street. Then as I climbed up the stairs behind her, the urge that I'd felt to reach forward and touch her. Of her skirt lifting just that little bit higher as she bent forward and reached down for her purse. Then how it drifted ahead of her as she walked across the room towards me. Of my excited amazement when she'd stripped off her panties, stepped back astride me and as she moved forward, saying, 'I'm all yours now Frank'. Of the sight, feel and scent of her nakedness when I'd had my head and hands up under the skirt. And that self-same skirt was above me, swaying back and forth, its slow regularity momentarily cutting off and then re-exposing the full length of those all too perfect legs and the barely hidden delights that nestled high up between them. The only real difference between the two sets of images was that in the first I had actually been able to reach up and touch her. And although I knew that in reality that was impossible I still felt the urge to do so, and having to deny myself that pleasure, at least for a while, only seemed to add vigour to my cock's attempt to emulate it. Even while I had been thoroughly enjoying the mental combination of re-playing those scenes from our first time while staring at the reality of the view up above me, all my physical responses had continued escalating and of course, as always, there was no stopping my cock from forcing its arrogant way into my consciousness. I was all to well aware of its deep throbbing engorgement, and the way it was powerfully trying to seek a way out of its entrapment. Pushing hard against the silk leg of my shorts, and every now and then jerking strongly, as though it somehow expected to rip right through it. But then, after many, many of those long, lust-inspiring minutes, and just as I had originally anticipated it would, Vanessa's voice broke the silence. 'We're supposed to be sharing Frank, but I can't see you.' Because I had pre-planned it I took only a few moments to step back and settle myself in one of the bean-bag chairs that must have been part of the cabin's original furnishings, then pick up the two controls of the spot-lights. I had positioned the second on top of a conveniently tall book-case to one side and hoped that at that angle its beam would provide Vanessa with as exciting a display as the one she'd given me. Then I switched off one and turned on the other. Of course I could no longer see her as clearly, but I held the mental image I'd had in really sharp focus as I heard the sudden gasp of indrawn breath when she looked down at the scenario I'd created for her. From what I'd been feeling I was of course only too well aware of the state my cock had got itself into by then; its thick, jerkily throbbing rigidity held down by the thin silk, and its size pushing it down almost the full length of one leg of the shorts. And I hoped that sight was at least as exciting an image as the one she had carried in her head since her teens. She said nothing for at least as long as I had previously stared silently up at her, but then, a few minutes later and in no more than a hoarsely soft whisper, she said. 'Slip them off for me please.' As I did as she'd asked my cock sprang upright, by then rearing quiveringly from the tension inside me, and its deep, purple- red head glistening in the brilliant light. Again she said nothing but I could tell from the soft rustling I heard that she was no longer standing quite still, and I found myself imagining just where her fingers had strayed to, and then what deeply stirring things they were doing. And that gave me an idea that I hadn't previously planned and, doing it slowly, I began stroking one lightly curled hand up and down the shaft of my cock. She gave another of those sudden gasps as I started then as I continued I heard several more interspersed between a few low, very soft moans. By then I decided I had given her more than enough time, and reaching down for the control I turned the first spot-light back on again. And in the split-second before she had time to shut them I saw even more than I expected; saw her wide-staring eyes focusing on my cock, saw one hand clutching her skirt waist high, saw how the crotch of her panties had been dragged to one side, and saw her already slickly coated fingers plunging in and out of her pussy. She had a brief moment of indecision as to how to cope with the dazzling glare, whether to block out the image that was exciting her by shutting her eyes, or cut off mine, by dropping her skirt and shielding them with that hand. She did as I guess I would have done in the same situation, she chose the more self-serving of the two options. But I still had one card up my sleeve, and I thought from the state we had both got ourselves into by then, that was exactly the right time to play it. So without stopping the slow stimulation I was giving myself I pushed up out of the chair, and then walked slowly across to the stairs leading to the upper level. Although I was of course no longer directly in the centre of its beam, as I'd chosen wide-angled lights there was still more than enough for Vanessa to see me as I made my way up towards her. And of course she didn't take her eyes off what I was doing to my cock, nor stop what her flashing fingers were doing to herself. By the time I reached her neither of us either needed or wanted any more stimulation and were both so worked up we didn't make it to the bed and didn't even worry about stripping off what little there was of her clothes. We just fell in a tangled, writhing heap and had a really hard, but far too fast fuck right there on the floor. But some time later, once we'd recovered our wits, we helped each other up then stood for a moment, each pair of eyes searching deep into the other's. 'Well we certainly unleashed a firestorm this time Frank.' she said huskily, then added. 'I don't know about you but I need a drink. Did you bring anything stronger than the wine?' I said I'd got some scotch in my bag and having each found a robe she stripped off the sweat and semen stained stuff she still had on and we went downstairs. Once seated together on the sofa we both took a long swig of the scotch. 'Ah that's better.' she said, then, for some time not saying a single word to each other we sat, either sipping the drinks or cradling our glasses and just staring into space. 'What you came up with was absolutely fantastic, but I wonder what made us both react so uncontrollably?' she finally said. I'd been having exactly the same sorts of thoughts myself, and had come up with at least the germ of an idea. 'I don't really know Vanessa, but all I can think is that we've each had something buried for twenty odd years, and tonight we tapped straight down into it, and, boom! All the pressure of twenty years repression of some long suppressed set of longings and cravings gets released in a few moments, that could do it!' She thought about what I'd said for a few moments before replying. 'You mean you think I wanted my cousin to fuck me?' 'That, or you actually wanted to fuck him.' 'Same thing.' she replied with a grin. 'But different motivation Vanessa.' 'OK, maybe, but your theory means you wanted to fuck that little dancer, so did you?' 'As best as I can remember I don't think I really knew what was actually involved at that age, but subconsciously? Probably, yes.' 'But we've both had active sex lives since then, why on earth should one event from so long ago be so important, even subconsciously?' 'Don't ask me, I'm no psychiatrist, and I think you'd need a Freudian one for this sort of analysis.' 'It's a bit scary isn't it.' she said softly a few moments later. 'What is?' 'Thinking that one brief event from so very long ago can still have such a powerful effect on us, even now. But there's something else too! If you are right, and I think you very well could be, then if we've now released those suppressed cravings do you think that in doing that we might have lost something from the needs and urges we've felt before this, when we've done what we have together?' 'I certainly hope not!' 'And so do I Frank, so do I!' she replied passionately. 'We'll just have to wait and find out about that, but I know one thing for sure.' I said, draining my glass and putting it down. 'And what's that?' she answered as she did what I'd done. 'I still want you as much.' I replied before taking her in my arms and kissing her hard. Then some time later I led her upstairs and despite her vigorous protestations that she was still so sweaty and smelly from what we'd earlier done that she needed a shower, or at least a quick wash first, I kissed, licked and sucked every inch of her body and then much, much, much more slowly, and even more thoroughly, I made love to her. Chapter 7 Saturday Morning As we had pre-ordered our breakfasts for the latest time possible when we'd booked in there was no incentive for either of us to wake early; and the combination of a long, busy week, plus the drive, and then the mentally and physically draining activities we'd indulged in before we fell asleep, meant that neither of us did. I woke first and had just enough time to hit the bath-room and complete the necessities of life before hearing the sound of the trays being brought, but Vanessa still slept on. So I woke her with a kiss, and a hot cup of coffee plus the plate of toast she'd ordered. 'Good morning lovely lady, I hope you slept well.' I said, neither expecting nor getting much more than a mumbled reply, then sat watching her gradually stir herself into full wakefulness as I began to tuck into a really good plate of eggs and bacon. Unlike so many women I'd previously known Vanessa, even in her still make-up free, sleep-tousled state really was an amazingly attractive woman. Her long, gently waving, dark brown hair, plus her dark eyes and olive complexion gave her a slightly Spanish appearance. And her beautifully long legs and especially the clever things she could do with them also fitted the mould of what sort of woman springs to mind at the mention of that nationality. But in one way she didn't fit the perhaps unfair image I always got when I thought of a Spanish woman, and I was very, very glad that she didn't. In my mind I always picture such a woman maturing into one that has a tendency to get heavy, big-hipped, that sort of thing. And Vanessa certainly had none of those characteristics. It was true that she was big-breasted, but as they were really firm, set high, and had a marvellously natural cleavage, I was truly delighted that she was. Caressing and fondling those luscious curves and then seeing her ever-sensitive nipples responding was just one of the many things I loved to do with her. But in contrast to those, the rest of her body was remarkably slim, as shapely as any woman should be, but narrow waisted and with proportionately slenderly curving hips. But of course at that moment virtually all of that beauty was still tucked away under the sheet, and it was only my memory and ever-active imagination that let me continue to enjoy those delights while I ate. 'So what are the plans for today?' she said when she'd finished her toast and was fully alert. 'You've obviously been up long enough to think it through.' 'I don't have any plans.' I replied, pushing my empty plate aside, then getting up and going across to the bed. 'But I do have a suggestion, if you want to hear it.' I added as I bent down to gently kiss her. I felt one of her arms snake up behind me then she held my head down more firmly as she returned it with interest. 'OK, let's hear it.' she murmured when we broke for air. 'If it's only half as good as the ideas you had for last night, I think you can be sure I'll be agreeing.' 'It was good wasn't it.' 'Not just good, bloody marvellous!' she replied. 'You really are a very special guy Frank, and I mean in every way.' she added before pulling my head back down and kissing me again. That kiss was even more passionate than the previous one and while holding me tightly with one arm she managed to free the other from under the sheets and wriggle it down between us. As I was fully dressed and Vanessa was also being hampered by the bed-clothes she couldn't make much progress, but when we both came up for another much needed gulp of air I noticed that in freeing her arm she had pushed down the sheet and that one temptingly full breast had been uncovered. So I slid my hand up and cupped its silky firm warmth, then bent low and began kissing and gently sucking its already perking nipple. But for the first time since we'd known each other she actually stopped me. 'No Frank, not right now, please. Any more of that and you'll get me fired-up, and this time I really do have to shower first. We made love twice last night and not surprisingly I then went straight to sleep, so I'll really stink. But tell me your suggestion, then I'll hit the bath-room.' What she said was perfectly reasonable, so I did as she'd asked. 'OK, as you haven't seen this place in day-light I'll need to give you a quick word picture first. Although it's a beach-front the actual beach is over fifty metres away, behind some low, grassy sand dunes. Apart from the path through them the dunes are fenced off, a revegetation project I think, so as this cabin is on the far end of the row nobody is going to be walking along in front of it, they'll have to go the other way. On one side we're screened by the thick bush surrounding the site, on the other, by a tall brush-wood fence. There are only two cabins with that sort of privacy, this one, and the corresponding one at the other end. So whatever we get up to in here, or on the grassy patch outside we can be almost certain we won't be overlooked by anybody. The bad news is that apart from breakfast they don't do room service here, so I thought that while you were in the shower I'd pop into town and get us something for lunch; cold meats, salad, cheese and fruit, that sort of thing. If that's OK?' She nodded, so I continued. 'Then this evening we could go back to the restaurant we ate in last night, the food was good.' 'And the waitress wasn't bad either.' she added with a cheeky grin. I knew exactly what she'd meant about the waitress, she was attractive, very attractive, and I'd also detected a certain chemistry at work between us while she'd been serving. But I ignored Vanessa's comment and continued as though I had no idea what she was alluding to. 'From the look of the weather I think it's going to be a pretty warm day, so once you've freshened up we could go for a bit of a walk on the beach, stretch our legs, get some fresh air, then if you fancy working on an all-over tan, we could do that out on the grass in front here. Then after we'd had some lunch we could, well, just see what follows...' 'Sounds good, I especially like the sound of the 'what follows' bit.' she replied with a truly wicked smile. So, leaving Vanessa to take her time in getting on with the things a girl's got to do, I took off for the town and did some leisurely shopping and by the time I got back and had put away the things that I'd bought she said she was ready. Although to a casual observer she was wearing what many women might on what was rapidly becoming a warmer than usual late Spring day, a sun dress, I knew she'd picked that one because of my special weakness. Its design was very similar to the one that had started us off, a scooped neck-line that showed off the size and shape of her breasts, and flaring out from a snugly fitting waist, a medium length, but full flaring skirt. Although the fabric was probably more practical than the fine chiffon-like stuff the yellow one had been made from, as it was just a light cotton I felt sure it would still swirl around in the lightest breeze. 'You look as gorgeous as ever.' I said when I first saw her. 'That burnt orange colour really, really suits you, and of course I absolutely love the skirt.' I added with a grin. 'Good, I hoped you might. I presume we're still going for the walk you suggested.' she answered. 'Only if you want to Vanessa.' 'Oh yes I think a bit of the more regular sort of exercise is a good idea, not that I'm planning on giving up on the more vigorous work-outs we give each other.' she replied. 'We'll just consider the walk as a sort of warm-up. OK?' 'More than OK by me my darling.' I said as I took her hand. Having made our way along the path in front of the other cabins then down through the sand dunes we went out on to the beach itself. By then it was mid-morning and the sun had had time to become really warm and as the tide was almost fully out we had a wide strip of hard-packed sand to walk on, so the conditions were just right for a very pleasant walk. I don't think either of us said anything for a while, just walking hand in hand, enjoying both the view and the moment, and each taking deep lungfuls of freshly salt tanged air. Skirts But in spite of the undoubted beauty of both the woman I was with and the scenery all around us I still couldn't stop myself from thinking and worrying about thoughts that had been bubbling up every now and then since early that morning. What I'd done for us the previous night had been so spectacularly successful, how on earth could I ever hope to repeat anything even remotely like it? I'd remembered and tracked down the unusually designed cabin. I'd thought of buying the spot-lights that had made such a dramatic impact. And then of course Vanessa had worn exactly the right thing to maximise it for us. How could I ever hope to come up with another scenario that included all those elements? Bur then suddenly, almost as though she'd been reading my thoughts, Vanessa said. 'I don't know about you but I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night.' 'It came up to your expectations?' I asked hesitantly. 'In my wildest dreams I could never have imagined anything like that Frank!' she replied as her hand squeezed mine really hard. 'Yes everything did seem to go just right for us. And just as importantly, I think we were both in exactly the right mood to enjoy it. But one thing has been worrying me a bit.' I added after a few moments' pause. 'What's that?' she asked anxiously. 'How the hell we're going to repeat it, or anything quite like it! I mean much of the impact must have come from neither of us really knowing what was going to happen. That's going to be hard to duplicate another time.' 'And you think that matters so much?' 'It usually does, I mean repetition of anything, no matter how good, always seem to take the edge off what it was like the first time.' 'Oh I think you're wrong there darling. Just think how many times you've called up that image of the young girl dancing to help get yourself off. And how many times in the last few weeks you've responded strongly to just looking up my legs. I haven't noticed any diminishing of the effect of that. Well at least not so far.' she added with a low pitched chuckle. 'Well maybe you're right, but it has been bothering me, I mean trying to think of how to set-up another scenario as good as that was.' 'I think that's the worst thing you could do darling, sometimes it's much better to just let things happen. But don't get me wrong.' she added hurriedly. 'The way you organised everything was just perfect, and neither of us would have had such a fantastic time if you hadn't done that. I'm just saying that you certainly shouldn't worry about having to create something similar for us every time. After all we've been having extraordinary sex up to now without doing anything anywhere near as spectacular. Haven't we?' 'Of course we have, it's been wonderful.' 'Well then, just relax, let things happen.' she said, giving my hand a more affectionate squeeze. Although I knew that at least one part of my brain was continuing to try to come up with new ideas just getting the stuff that had been bugging me for much of the morning off my chest and then hearing Vanessa's words of reassurance certainly made me feel better. So I did as she'd suggested, relaxed, and simply enjoyed walking hand in hand with such a beautiful woman, along such a beautiful beach, on such a truly beautiful day. We passed a couple of elderly men who were beach fishing and two or three people out walking their dogs but given how lovely the day was I was surprised at how few people there were actually out making the most of it. When I said something about that to Vanessa she reminded me it was Saturday morning, when most families were already busy shopping or ferrying children to and from their sports' activities. 'There'll probably be a few more out later, after lunch.' she said. 'But it's much nicer this way, I mean not having to share it with too many others.' The far end of the beach was blocked by a rocky headland and a huge pile of jumbled boulders that the persistently breaking waves seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to wear down. My first reaction was to turn and retrace our steps but Vanessa had completely different ideas. 'I always like to see what's over the other side of the hill.' she said, breaking our hand-hold. 'I'll go first, then if I get stuck you can give me a push.' And with that she started clambering upwards, and I admit I was surprised to see just how nimbly she coped with the chaotic pile of irregularly sized rocks. At first I was more concerned with whether or not she would miss her footing and slip and fall but when I saw how skilfully she was getting herself up I began to follow. And silly though it sounds, it was only then that I realised what an opportunity she was actually giving me. When she'd elected to go first she must have known that as she scrambled from one rock to another above me what she was actually doing was giving me the opportunity to look up at her. So of course I took it. At first I found that the design of the skirt of her dress was actually working against me, because it was so full there was too much material draping around her for me to see much more then just her knees and the lower portion of her thighs. Even so, just the idea that I might soon see a bit more was enough to start my heart beating a little faster and increase the blood flow to the lower half of me. But then as she climbed closer to the top she began to encounter the breeze blowing off the sea and up around the cliff face. In the hope that I'd see more by hanging further back I had stopped to let her get further ahead of me so it was almost sheer luck that had caused me to be almost directly below her and looking upwards when the first real gust of wind caught the back of her skirt and lifted it. It flew like a carelessly set spinnaker, sky-high, and although only brief, no more than a few seconds, because I had been watching her progress I saw it all. Saw the moment the first light tendrils of wind caught the hem, lifting it enough for the rest to get further under, at first just billowing the material, then pushing even more strongly and lifting it higher. In fact lifting the back waist-high. So I saw her legs, all of them, right up to the waist. Saw her slenderly curving, tanned looking thighs, saw the tautly bulging swell of her bottom, saw the pale orange, semi-transparent panties. Saw it all! And of course Vanessa knew I had, as the gust died away again she turned and looked down at me, the tight smile and mischievous expression said it all, but she said it anyway. 'You liked that. Keep your eyes open Frank, it might get even breezier up there.' she added, indicating the ridge above her. So I did, and it was. And because she knew just how stirred-up I must have been getting she slowed right down, sometimes just standing on a convenient rock in anticipation of another gust of wind reaching her, sometimes, when she felt one starting, pausing to wait for its effect. And one of those times happened when she was just about to push herself up from one large rock to another, catching her just when one foot was placed much higher than the other. So, because her legs were so widely separated when the wind caught her that time I found I could see right up between them. And although I was seeing it from the back rather than the front, I had a view that in some ways was similar to the one I'd had the previous night. Just as I had done then, as well as the exciting view of the long length of her thighs and the firmly rounded swell of her bottom, I found I could even see the crotch of the flimsy panties clinging to the pronounced bulge of her pussy. Of course even before that moment my cock had reacted, reacted strongly and I'd been all too aware of the feel of it thickening and stiffening as I got a series of glimpses of her. But when I was given that one, found myself staring up at her barely covered pussy, I felt a truly enormous surge of blood pumping into it. And as there were several more just as good as that, and a couple that were in some ways even more excitingly graphic, by the time the next few minutes had passed it was throbbing so hard it really felt as though it was trying to jerk its way out of my trousers. So by the time Vanessa eventually reached the top, then just stood there, her feet spread well apart, and just letting her skirt swirl madly around her, I felt sure it would simply burst from the pressure that had been built up inside it. When I finally scrambled up to join her, even if she hadn't been able to see the prominent ridge my over-excited cock was making in my trousers she'd have been able to tell from the look on my face just what sort of an effect she'd had on me. She gave me another of those tight smiles, glanced quickly around us, then moved closer. 'Oh dear.' she said softly. 'I knew you'd enjoy that, but I didn't expect you to react quite as strongly as it looks as though you have.' she added, reaching forward and pressing her hand against my crotch. We both felt the sudden surge that her mere touch triggered and then the jerky throbbing that followed when she tried to curl her fingers around it. 'I can't leave you like this.' she said huskily, then just dropped to her knees. She seemed to have my trousers and briefs down in just a matter of seconds, then I felt one hand pushing up between my legs to cup my balls and the other pressing my rearing cock down to bring it level with her mouth. But then she paused, just for a moment, her eyes fixed on my cock, staring hard, as though trying to fix the image of it in her head. She glanced up, and I could see from the expression on her face that something about it had really got to her, but then the moment passed, she gave me a tight smile, and leaned forward. Both hands tightened their grip a little as she licked her lips, and I got the first of many shock-like thrills as she slipped them over the head. Then I felt her tongue swirling around it and as I grunted at the intensity of those sensations she looked up, her dark eyes sparkling with impish pleasure as she watched the effect of what she was doing reflected on my face. She pulled back for a few moments and said. 'It's good to know I can get you this excited. And if the circumstances were different I know we'd both enjoy it more if I took my time doing it. But I think it best if we keep it pretty quick this time Frank. So don't try to hold back, just let yourself go!' Then, while her hand held the shaft firmly and started pushing up and down it she began to move her head back and forth, taking my cock deep into the velvet warmth of her mouth. And as the resulting thrills sent powerful waves of excited delight right through me I watched how her eyes glittered each time her hollowing cheeks gave it a particularly hard suck. Until then I hadn't really been conscious of just how close to actually coming I had got, but what her hand and mouth were doing was more than enough to convince me that if I'd spent much more time on those rocks I might very well have done it in my pants. It felt as though every single muscle in my body had knotted tight and I heard myself grunting from the strain of the pressure inside me quickly rising higher and higher. When Vanessa felt that strength of my reactions she took her hand off my cock and reached down for one of mine, then as she looked up she lifted it up behind her head. I somehow sensed what she was offering and brought my other hand up and gently held her with the two of them. Her eyes sparkled as she nodded and opened her mouth just that little bit wider, she was either allowing, or indeed wanting me to fuck her mouth! By then I was in no condition, even if I wanted to, to refuse her offer, and I felt my hips jerking forward, trying to get more and more of my cock inside her sucking mouth. She gurgled and, relaxing her throat muscles, let me thrust deeper, taking it, taking all of it. But even as I'd begun thrusting I'd felt one of her hands slip around me, gripping my arse and urging me on, and the other tightening its grip of my balls then begin gently but insistently squeezing them. The combination created truly mind-blowing thrills and within just a few seconds I felt the already super-heated semen churning, boiling, then almost instantly erupting. The first few gouts must have blasted straight down her throat but her urging hands and sucking mouth brought on several more only slightly less powerful loads up through my still thrusting cock and she had to swallow really hard and fast to cope with the size of them. Then, gurgling with satisfaction at the speed and strength of the response she'd got from me she continued sucking and swallowing until she was certain she had completely drained every last drop. And I just stood there, every inch of my body trembling from the sheer impact of the forces unleashed, my still spasming cock buried deep in her mouth, feeling the strength of its suction urging out those very last few driblets. 'Well, well, well!' she said when she was finally satisfied there really was no more. 'That was something else, wasn't it!' she added, wiping off the surplus mess that had trickled down her chin and oozed out around the corners of her mouth. 'It certainly was!' I managed to gasp as I reached down to dig a handkerchief out of my pocket so I could clean myself up. 'You were fantastic, as always!' I added, helping her to her feet, then wiping my cock dry before pulling my pants and trousers back up and making myself presentable again. 'You've never come as quickly as that Frank, just out of curiosity, what was so different?' she asked once I'd recovered enough to move and we began to walk down a slowly winding track to the beach. I thought for a few moments before answering. 'Oh, several things. For most of the morning I haven't been able to shake off the memories of what happened last night. Even when I was going round the supermarket I had images of you in my head. It made trying to concentrate on what I was looking for very difficult.' I added with a grin. 'So by the time I got back to the cabin I really, really wanted to make love with you again, my friend down there was getting very insistent about it.' I added. 'Oh I'm sorry Frank! If I'd known what was going on of course I wouldn't have put you off the way I did. But I was awfully conscious of what I must have smelt like by then. I'd normally have given myself even just a quick wash before going to bed, but as I remember it, we simply collapsed. Anyway, next time you're feeling like that just don't take 'no' for an answer, you won't get any really strong objections!' she added with a cheeky smile. 'Don't get me wrong, I wasn't that desperate darling, but you did ask why I was as excited as I was, and the fact that you were too embarrassed about us doing it just meant I was left with a bit of a head of steam, so to speak. And of course when you started clambering up the rocks, well what did you expect? You must have known exactly what you were doing.' 'Yes the thought of what might happen once I got a bit higher did occur to me!' she admitted. 'But of course I had no idea how you were already feeling. So you can imagine how surprised I was when I saw how wound-up you obviously were. Anyway, the end result was spectacular!' she added. 'I'm sorry if it was too uncomfortable, if I was too forceful, by then I just couldn't help myself.' 'Oh for heaven sake don't apologise, it was terrific! I loved feeling how excited you were, and having you come like that was terrific!' 'It was?' 'Of course, knowing I'd got you that worked up was fantastic! Don't you feel like that when you see me have an unusually strong climax?' 'Of course I do.' 'Well it's the same for me. There's a sort of pride in a job having been done really well. And of course it's great knowing I'm giving you that much intense pleasure too.' she added. 'Yes, I do understand what you mean. But what you let me do, that wasn't too uncomfortable?' 'The mouth-fuck you mean, no, I mastered the art of deep throat several years ago, it's not that difficult once you get the knack. I'll give you a proper demonstration some time, if you like.' 'You can be sure that's something I'll take you up on.' I instantly replied with a happy grin. 'Just let me know when you're in the mood. But let me give you a demonstration of what I can do with my tongue first.' I added. 'First?' 'Mmm, licking pussy always gives me a hard-on, and yours is a particularly sweet pussy so the result is especially good.' 'Big and strong?' 'Haven't you noticed?' 'I think I've usually been a bit too preoccupied with what's going on to do a comparative study Frank. But next time I promise I will. But for now, how about some coffee, I'm dying for one.' 'Coffee's better than an ordinary mouth wash?' 'Oh I don't need those, I don't have any hang-ups about semen, other than the mess it can make on my clothes that is, it's a real bitch to get off!' 'Your mentioning clothes reminds me, I love your choice of underwear.' I said, as the memory of both the orange and yellow coloured panties flashed back into my head. 'I'm glad you liked them, what little you've seen that is.' she replied, squeezing my hand a bit more tightly. 'Yes I do seem to get preoccupied by other things, we must do something about that, sometime. Do the bras match the panties?' 'Of course, I like being colour co-ordinated whenever possible.' 'Well that's something else for me to look forward to.' I said, trying to imagine just what she'd look like in nothing else but one of the undoubtedly spectacularly sexy bra and panty sets. Then we continued chatting about this and that as we headed back to the cabin, then made ourselves a coffee and sat out in the sunshine until we decided we were both ready for some lunch. Chapter 8 Afternoon We ate a leisurely lunch, washing it down with a bottle of crisp white wine I'd bought at the same time as the other things, and what with the food, the wine and the increasing heat of the sun we were both feeling lazily relaxed by the time we eventually finished. 'I noticed there's a spare blanket in the wardrobe, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we spread it out there on the grass, then we could lie in the sun a bit more comfortably Frank.' she said as we began clearing away the lunch things. 'So you liked my idea of getting a bit of an all-over tan!' I said with a cheeky grin. 'Oh I don't think I'll go quite that far, I'm not as confident as you are of there not being any peeping Toms. But I brought a bikini with me, just in case. You'll just have to make do with perving on me in that.' 'That's OK, I've got a good imagination. I'll finish up here and get the blanket, you go and change.' I said. Although she'd really had very little on, and a bikini was a pretty basic garment to get into, I couldn't believe just how long it took Vanessa to join me. By the time she eventually did I'd had time to; finish tidying up, change into a pair of swimming briefs, spread the blanket on the grass for her and even to start reading the magazine I'd taken outside with me. But when she did finally appear I wasn't about to start complaining, because whatever the reason had been, it had been worth it, she looked absolutely, positively stunning! The bikini was made from a silky dark maroon fabric, yet another colour that beautifully complemented her light olive skin tone. But in addition to its colour was both the fabric itself and the design. The fabric used was one that was probably not expected to ever actually get wet; it seemed to be quite thin and even when bone dry clung to her almost as tightly as a second skin. Then it appeared as though the idea behind the garment's design had been much more about highlighting the shape of the body inside it, paying just barely adequate attention to covering the most sensitive parts of it.