1 comments/ 20468 views/ 2 favorites Lucy in the Sky By: SueNH Copyright © 1996 As I write this, it is the beginning of a harsh winter here in New England. Already, snow covers the ground and vicious winds cut into my face as I go to the mail box to get the old-fashioned snail-mail. On the top of the pile is a letter with a return address that instantly ignites inner flames. I am transported back to summer, to a time that was warm, for more than one reason. I run back to the house, sit in front of my wood stove, and contemplate the envelope. Before even opening it, I want to enjoy the clear and palpable recollections of that day in August. Lucy is a friend who I don't get to see very often. She's a tiny woman, maybe just five feet tall and 95 pounds, bright red hair, very pretty with unusually large breasts for her small frame. We were roommates and great buddies in college, but now she lives in New York City, and my business rarely takes me to her vicinity; in fact, I do my best to avoid going into the Big City. When we do get together, it is usually for only an hour or two over lunch. So it was, with both anticipation and trepidation, that I accepted when she invited me to spend a long weekend at her parents' camp in the Poconos. A lot of family would be there, and I wasn't sure if I would fit in. I wasn't even sure if Lucy and I would really hit it off like we did so many years ago. Having a lunch date is not the same as being together for several days! I drove my cute little Miata down to pick her up, and then we headed west on I-80. It's amazing how quickly the urban, domesticated sprawl turns into the untamed forests and hills of northwestern New Jersey. As we tooted along with the top down and the wind mussing our hair, I asked Lucy what had led her to invite me on this trip, when we hadn't done anything like this before. She kind of danced around the question, talking about how we really should have done this years ago. But I could tell she was being evasive. So I pinned her down with a direct question: "Lucy, something is going on, isn't it? Are you trying to match me up with someone? Because if you are, I think you should let me in on the game plan. I don't like surprises." OK, I admit that this isn't always true. In fact, I usually do like a surprise. It gives me a tingle. But I guess I was trying to keep some amount of blustery equanimity as we headed into her family's pressure-cooker (or so I pictured it). I didn't want the awkwardness of a blind date to be piled on top of everything else. I guess I was a bit fragile, so I wanted to forbid her from playing the matchmaker. It's kind of in my nature to think that I have things like this figured out, so I was most surprised by Lucy's response to my somewhat confrontational remarks. "Oh Sue, that's not it at all. I can see how you might have thought that, and you're are right that there is something going on. But it is not about matching you up, it's about matching me up. There is going to be someone else there, and the idea of seeing him has me going crazy. I invited you to be with me so that you can help me through this thing. I was being selfish about it, and I should have told you what was happening." It took me while to get Lucy to tell me all about this guy, but I think I can summarize it by telling you that Lucy has three siblings. The oldest is a brother, and he has a best friend named Chet. To hear Lucy tell it, he must be a clone of Robert Redford. She has had a gigantic secret crush on Chet since childhood, but instead, he had flings with both of Lucy's older sisters. Those relationships simmered down many years ago, and Chet has remained a close family friend, almost a second brother to all the girls. Because of the pseudo-familial role that he has, Lucy has never told anyone how much she desires Chet-it seemed almost incestuous to her. Plus, he has been married for many of the intervening years. Since the whole thing makes her nervous, she has tried to avoid being around him as much as possible. His family has their camp next to Lucy's family's place, and when she knew he would be in residence, Lucy would find an excuse to stay away. He had been divorced for several years, and Lucy decided that she couldn't let this infatuation fester anymore. This was the weekend that she wanted to act on her long-suppressed passion. At the very least, she needed to tell him what had been going on for her. Who knew what would happen after that. My role was to be there for her to confide in, to support her and to egg her on if her determination flagged. "Why me?" I asked, and she answered, "When we were in college, I could talk to you about these kinds of things, about crushes and desires and..... even sex. Since then, I really haven't had someone that I could open up to like that. I'm sure that you remember some of that. You know, it was the Sexual Revolution, and we were kind of wild and crazy." "Oh yeah," I responded "gaawwdd, I'll bet anything that you remember that night when your date and mine switched beds in the middle of the night. They thought we never even knew the difference,... that they were surreptitiously getting to put another notch on their pistols by fucking an extra girl that night. They assumed we were just a couple of dumb bimbos. But we knew all along, and it was probably more fun for us than them. They were scared silly that they would get caught." "Yea, my guy was so jittery he couldn't get it up Until I gave him a 20 minute blow job." Well, the rest of our drive was full of reminiscences that were even more bawdy than that one. We hadn't been prim and proper ladies back then, and I had done my best to keep up that tradition in the 20 years since. It turns out that Lucy hadn't done the same. Her infatuation with Chet started to get in the way of her other relationships with men, and many of those courtships had ended quickly and badly. In a way, she had been saving herself for Chet, even though he had been "verboten" because of his marriage and his role in Lucy's family. There was a lot of importance riding on what was to happen this weekend. I could see why she was excited and terrified. It was no accident that our conversation had drifted inexorably into the theme of the wild sexual experiences of our youth. This lady was charged up with unrequited passion. Whatever happened this weekend, I knew it would lead to the unleashing of these pent-up emotions, and then Lucy could finally go on with her life. I was grateful that she had included me in her plans, such as they were. For in fact, she really didn't know what exactly she was going to do, just that she was going to do SOMETHING. If you've read any of my other stories, you know that I can be easily aroused by the thought of uninhibited sex. And so our conversation in the car about the "Real-Life Sexual Adventures of Lucy and Sue-Coeds on a Mission," had me kind of fired up, and I could feel the sticky secretions moistening the crotch of my panties. But now I knew that there was to be no hunky blind date for me on this trip (I know, I know, before I was ragging on Lucy for being a matchmaker, and now I'm complaining that she hadn't gotten someone for me to play with.... there is no satisfying me, is there?). My lustful mood was interrupted when we drove into the area surrounding the so-called "camp." Jeez, talk about an understatement. I had somehow pictured a little cabin on a lake, with bare-bones facilities, maybe even an outhouse, Coleman Stove and Aladdin Lamps. Since I figured we were roughing it, I had even packed my sleeping bag (which took up almost half the trunk of my Miata). Well, was I wrong. The road going into the place had big signs saying "members only," and then we had to go through a guarded gate, where Lucy showed a membership card. Eventually, a mile of narrow (but well-paved) road took us through a verdant golf course, and then up to the "lodge," as Lucy called it. It was really a magnificent white clapboard building which reminded me of a smaller version of the Grand Resort hotels that have all-but-disappeared in New England. In front of the hotel was a large square of perfect grass, where Lucy said they held bowling games. This was not the picture that leapt to mind when I thought of bowling, but Lucy insisted. As we drove past the Lodge, a series of clay-surfaced tennis courts were on our right, and the lake was on the left...., then a series of beautiful old homes that bordered the lake. None of these could have been less than 15 rooms, and they were impeccably maintained. I would have called them small mansions, but Lucy insisted that they were known to all as "camps." This was a protected enclave for the old-money rich, and while it all was tasteful and restrained, I could not help but visualize that even the branches of the trees were dripping with the uncountable wealth. When Lucy told me the names of some of the home-owners, I found that many of them were easily recognizable-governors, socialites, robber barons of the past and present. The kind of names that are etched in marble slabs on the sides of university buildings. Now I was intimidated about this weekend for another reason; the idea of meeting famous people scares the dickens out of me..... Finally, we pulled into the driveway of Lucy's camp. Perhaps it wasn't the largest camp in the resort, but it was impressive and tastefully appointed, inside and out. I had my own room on the second floor, looking out over the lake. The view was incredible, with a range of rugged-looking peaks rising above the expanse of unbroken forest. A few hours from New York City, and it seemed as if we were ensconced in the outbacks of Montana or Alaska. Shortly after we arrived, dinner was served..., and I mean that literally, as the family had brought along their cook and maid, who brought us our impeccably prepared meals at the broad dining room table. Within the formal atmosphere created by this setting, I became acquainted with all the family members-Lucy's parents, and her siblings, all of whom had brought along their "significant others" (none of them were currently married). After dinner, we all adjourned to the screened-in porch, where we feasted on the glorious sunset and made plans for the next day. Apparently, it was customary to spend the morning partaking of the various athletic opportunities, and so, before I had a chance to think about it, I was assigned to compete in a little tennis tournament, playing doubles with Lucy. I'm not very good, but everyone said not to worry, and there was extra tennis clothes and a racquet that I could use. So much for free will. I was now a cog in the family vacation machine. As we rocked in the comfortable chairs watching the last tendrils of orange and purple disappear from the clear sky, a newcomer was welcomed onto the porch. Even before I was introduced, I could tell that he was very much at home with the entire group, so it was no surprise to discover that this was the famous Chet. And although Lucy may have glamorized him a bit, he was much as advertised-tall, blond, handsome, articulate, and charming. Lucy started to get giggly, but I kicked her lightly and gave her a stern look, and she made an effort to be more of a grown-up. When Chet and Jock (that's Lucy's brother..., what a yuppy name..., in fact her sisters are named Amber and Ashley!) announced that they were planning to hike up to Pinnacle Rocks the next afternoon, I instantly sensed an opportunity, and chirped in that I'd love to go for a walk too, that's what I came to the wilderness to do. I gave a meaningful look toward Lucy, and she agreed to join the group. The boys muttered something about it not being a "walk," that it was a difficult climb, but I wasn't going to be put off. Eventually it was decided that Jock's girlfriend, Dawn, would come too. When the gathering broke up to head to bed, Lucy pulled me aside and let me now that she was not certain she was in good enough shape for the hike, but I took her meaning to be that she was nervous about being with Chet, so I wouldn't let her off the hook. The next morning, we started in early with the tennis tournament. It was very warm, and within minutes, I was perspiring heavily. Since I really was not playing up to the standards of the rest of the competitors, I spent a lot of time chasing balls. After a while, I noticed that our match had attracted a large and growing audience..., certainly more than it deserved. During a changeover between games, I whispered to Lucy "How come there are so many people watching us play? Hardly any of the other matches have any spectators at all." "You're amazing," she answered, "you really have no idea that you are the reason for our crowd! Did you notice that almost all of the people watching are men? Now look down at your chest." When I did, I realized that my sweat had made the borrowed white tennis blouse almost transparent. And since I wasn't wearing a bra (I almost never do, and I hadn't even brought on with me on the trip), my breasts and the blunt pink shape of my nipples were publicly displayed. I'm sure that when I tried valiantly to chase down a point, I was getting a lot of bobbing and weaving. Lucy pointed out that displays like this were not typical of the straight-laced modus operandi of the resort. But for today, I was an exception to the rule that was being appreciated by the fans of my pathetic tennis game. A fleeting moment of embarrassment crossed my mind, but then I took a "what the hell" attitude about the whole thing, and spent the rest of the match flaunting my body. Occasionally I rubbed the strings of my racquet over one of my nipples, or leaned over to pick up a ball, waving my ass in the direction of an admirer. Interestingly enough, my tennis game improved markedly, perhaps because I saw the sport as having more than one level of challenge. I started to feel a familiar tingle of sexual excitement that came from the naughty thrill of exhibiting to these strangers. Lucy gave me a wink and said "you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" "Oh yes," I responded, "I'm thinking about all the hard-ons that I've provoked, and the fantasies that are being spun by all these repressed male psyches." She slapped her racquet hard (and playfully) on my rear, getting a good laugh from our audience. After the tennis, we showered, and I could only wish that there was enough time for me to fully relieve the heightened sexual tension that had grown inside me. As it was, I could only tease myself with a few rushed caresses through my slick labia, with my finger and then with the hard, rounded bar of soap. My clitoris was hard as a bone, and my lips were puffy, but I would have to wait until later to take the time I needed to satisfy my persistent hunger, for I could hear Lucy calling for me to hurry. So I put on some hiking attire, and the three girls packed a lunch, while the boys studied the maps, packed up blankets, cameras, and binoculars, and tried to rush us along. Traditional gender role stereotypes prevailed here. Eventually the five of us set off on a trail behind the lodge building. Now it was midday, and even hotter than before. The trail was very rugged, showing little signs of regular use. Jock said that this was beyond the capacity of most of the guests at the resort, so we would certainly see no one else along the way. Lazing along the beach front was the customary activity for the afternoons. For us, it was grunting, panting, and sweating, with little breath left for talking. Eventually, I got my second wind, and achieved a sort of trance-like rhythm. Most of the time, I followed behind Jock, and the view of his butt cheeks and thighs clenching and jiggling were adding to my heightened sense of my libido. Then, suddenly, Jock's foot slipped on a patch of greasy moss, and his ankle turned over. He fell to the side and then backwards, and I blocked his slide. His ankle was badly sprained. Chet suggested that he drag himself a few more yards up the trail, to a spot where a large stream crossed the path. There was a pool of beautiful water nestled amongst the boulders and trees, and Jock sat with his injured foot dangling in the cool water while Dawn rubbed his shoulders and fussed over what could be done. Chet and Jock concluded that an hour or two of cooling the ankle in the stream would help, so we left Jock and Dawn there with their share of the rations, while Lucy, Chet and I continued onwards and upwards. For the purposes that I had in mind for the afternoon, five was a crowd, but three was... well something else. Lucy was now following Chet, and every once in while she would look back at me with a kind of glazed look. I guessed that her close-up observation of Chet's cute butt was having an effect on her libido. Now I noticed Lucy had copied my fashion statement from this morning; she had dressed without putting on her bra. Since her breasts are much larger than mine, they swung around freely as we scrabbled up the terrain, which was becoming more rocky. Eventually, we broke though the tree line and emerged onto the bald peak. It was fairly flat up there, and the stony surfaces were worn smooth by the centuries of harsh weather. The sun beat down through the windless air, and we were surrounded by the 360 degree panorama. The lake seemed so many miles away; I couldn't believe we had come so far. The surroundings seemed so isolated, so timeless, so secret... as if we could see the world, but the world had lost track of us. The feeling of freedom and enchantment filled my soul, and I without willing it, I found myself bounding around on the low outcroppings of rock, acting out some improvised pseudo-tribal dance. I began yelping and hollering, hearing the amplified echoes that reminded me of my enchanted night at Lake Powell (see Sue's 20th: "Kachina"). My hair flailed around my head, slapping against my neck in sweaty ropes. I suddenly remembered that I had company up here, and when I glanced over at Chet and Lucy, they were looking at me strangely, like I was a Martian. I stopped my dancing and walked back over to them. We talked about it, and it turns out that when Chet went mountain climbing, he had a kind of personal tradition of sitting quietly looking out into space, kind of a transcendental meditation. I asked him if my dancing and celebrating interfered with his doing his own thing, and he admitted that he found my way of celebrating to be "interesting." I guess that this was a high compliment from a dyed-in-the-wool yuppy. Then Lucy said that it looked like more fun than sitting still, so I grabbed her hand, and pulled her into my dance, where we stretched our arms, and chased imaginary fairies, and generally lost all our inhibitions to the goddess of the sun. Chet finally joined us, tentatively at first, but eventually with more enthusiasm. An entrancing effect took over, and Chet and Lucy seemed to gravitate toward each other, driven by some primal force of nature. They started to circle each other, eyes locked on each other as their movements became more sensuous. Their attention was not on me, so I took advantage of the opportunity to strip off my wet clothes, flinging the garments and boots onto the rocks to dry. Normally, they might be shocked by my nudity, but they seemed not to notice! I continued my liquid dance for a while, then I stepped up behind Lucy and raised her hands straight up into the air. Leaving her arms like that, I reached down to the hem of her tee shirt and quickly pulled it up over her heaving breasts, and then all the way off. Chet was mesmerized, and Lucy offered neither encouragement nor resistance. So I circled around behind Chet and stripped off his shirt, just as I had done for Lucy. Then I reached down to his pants and unbuckled his belt, then slid his loose shorts and boxers down to his ankles. He lifted his feet so that I could get them off completely. Looking at Lucy, I could see her eyes filled with primal fires, as she eagerly took in the view of Chet's naked body. Her hands came up to her breasts and started to knead the meaty flesh. So I again returned to her rear and pulled down her pants. Now they were both nude, except for their hiking boots. Although I had removed mine, it seemed like too much of an interruption to try to take off their footwear, for they were both transported deeply into erotic trances. I was enjoying being the facilitator, the servant of their long-repressed desires. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS By Beatle_bum “Good evening, sir, welcome onboard”. I nodded an acknowledgment to the stewardess, glanced at the seat number on my ticket and headed down the aisle looking for row 7. Once located, I threw the paperback I had been carrying onto my seat, opened the overhead locker, put my overcoat, jacket and bag in there, and plonked myself down in the window seat. I looked around and was glad to see the Business Class section of the plane was almost empty, although not everyone was onboard yet. This was the overnight American Airways flight from Dallas-Fort Worth to London Gatwick, a flight of 8 to 9 hours or so, depending on how strong the Gulf Stream wind was, and I hoped I wouldn’t have anyone sitting alongside me for the journey. Business Class was all very nice, but it’s a long flight and I hoped to have a vacant seat next to me so that I could stretch out when I wanted, or worse not have to disturb someone sleeping just to visit the bathroom. Another group of passengers boarded, most of them heading for the economy seats further back, and the aircraft was filling up more than I had hoped. Still only a very few of them appeared to have Business Class tickets. I watched as one woman came down the aisle, struggling with a large weekend bag, and stopped right next to my seat. ‘Damn,’ I thought, it looked like the seat next to me was going to be occupied. She was, I guessed, in early 40’s, about 5’6”, with an attractive face topped with shoulder-length brown hair, dressed in a full-length coat. She put the bag down on the floor, took off her coat and opened the locker I’d just closed, and reached up to put her coat in it. Now divested of her coat and with her arms reaching up, I was able to appraise her more fully. Beneath the coat she was dressed in a dark-blue pin-striped business suit of jacket and mid-thigh length skirt. It didn’t look like ideal clothes for an overnight flight and I figured she had obviously come straight from the office. She now shrugged off the jacket, carefully folded it and reached up again to put it with her coat. Underneath the jacket she wore a white blouse with a feint blue pattern in it, and a simple, but expensive looking, gold necklace around her throat. I could make out the outline of a white bra underneath the blouse, and the outline of her breasts was accentuated as she reached up. They looked good, neither heavy, nor small, but (at least within the confines of her bra) nicely rounded. Coat and jacket now safely in the locker, she bent down to pick up the bag. “Can I help you with that,” I asked her. “Oh, please,” she said looking up, “it’s quite heavy though.” I rose from my seat took hold of the black leather bag and after seeing that our locker was now full, opened the one behind it and hauled the bag up. As I did so I noticed the address tag attached to it. The woman’s name was Lucinda Warren, and she lived in a place I’d never heard of in Cambridgeshire. “Thanks very much,” she said, and slipped into the seat behind mine. I nodded an acknowledgement and slid back into my own seat. ‘Good’ I thought, ‘she’s great looking, but I liked my space.’ She must have been one of the last onboard, because a steward were sealing the outer door, and the stewardesses were coming down the aisles checking that seat-belts were secured, and helping the last of the passengers stow their luggage away. I looked around the Business Class section. It really wasn’t anywhere near as full as I had feared. There was another guy sitting in the opposite window seat to mine, but one row further forward, and a couple sitting two rows directly in front of me, but apart from them and the lady behind me, no other seat was taken. Most of those I had seen entering the plane must have headed further back to the Economy section. Mentally I applauded my company’s policy on business travel whereby Economy was the norm, but you were allowed to fly Business Class if the journey was longer than 3 hours. It was another 20 minutes before the aircraft engines were switched on and we were pushed back from our gate. During this time we had been served a glass of orange juice and sat through the usual emergency procedures video, but now we were finally moving, the stewardesses took their seats ready for the take-off. Actually they needn’t have taken their seats yet, as it was a busy evening that night, and we had to queue behind four other planes before we were allowed to take our position at the end of the runway. Dusk had been approaching when I had boarded the aircraft, but now it was dark outside, and I watched the lights of the airport and the other craft as the cabin lights were dimmed ready for take-off. A roar of the engines and we were hurtling down the runway, and moments later I could feel the ground fall away as we took to the air. We climbed steadily through the clouds up into the night sky. It was actually lighter up here, the setting-sun visible to the east. The cabin-lights came back on, the stewardesses unbuckled themselves and set about getting things ready for the trip, although the ‘fasten seat-belt’ sign remained on for the rest of us. I flicked through the literature in the seat pocket in front and settled on the menu. Ten minutes into the flight, the seat-belt lights were switched off as the plane levelled out into what would be its cruising altitude. I picked up my paperback and resumed where I had left off in the Departure Lounge. The book was a detective thriller, but so far had offered little in the way of thrills. It would keep me occupied for a while but wasn’t a huge diversion. Suddenly I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder and turned round to see the woman behind smiling at me. “Hi,” she said, “sorry to startle you, it’s just, well, I noticed we’re both flying alone, and I wondered whether you’d like some company over dinner.” “Hmm, I’d like that,” I lied. Well lied is perhaps too strong. The novel was, as I said, less engaging then had been promised on the cover. Perhaps some pleasant conversation over dinner would help pass away an hour or so. “Shall I join you, or would like to come around here?” I replied. “Whichever suits you,” she said, “I don’t have any big thing about window or aisle seats.” “Me neither,” I said undoing my seat-buckle and sliding across and out of my row. I threw the book on to my seat as if to state that I would be returning their later, and slid into the seat next to hers. “Hi, I’m Rob, by the way, Rob Thornton.” “And I’m…” “Lucinda,” I interjected, “I saw the tag on your bag.” “Well most people call me Lucy,” she replied holding out her hand. We spent the next hour or so chatting about our various lives. I told her about the conference I had just been to, and she told me about her work as a computer consultant, and how she’d spent the previous week giving a course in Dallas. I also learned that she was married and that in their marriage the traditional roles were somewhat reversed. She was out earning the big bucks and often had to go away on business, whilst her husband Paul stayed at home and ran a small farm as well as doing the household chores of cooking, cleaning and looking after their daughter. .Dinner was served whilst we continued our conversation, and one of the topics we talked about was how to while away the time over such a long flight. Lucy told me she always tried to get a few hours sleep, but never managed it properly and always suffered from jet-lag for a couple of days after, and I told her I played chess. “How can you play chess on your own?” she asked. “Or do you have one of those chess computer thingys?” “I play against a friend,” I explained. “We are in the middle of a game that’s been going on for about 5 months now. We make one move a day, sending our move by e-mail. The other one than has until 10 o’clock the following day, or the following Monday if it’s the weekend, to make the next move. That way you can take as little, or almost as long as you want, to consider the next move. I’ve got a portable set with me, and I spend some of the time in the air looking at the various possibilities. “That’s great,” she said, “I love playing chess, but can never find someone other than Paul to play against, and although I’m not that good I usually beat him quite easily. Men generally don’t like playing against me, because they think it’s ungallant to win, and yet they hate losing to a woman.” “Well the great thing about it is you don’t have to be facing your opponent. I haven’t seen Eric, the guy I’m playing against, for over 2 years. We used to work together but now we just correspond by e-mail. We’ve been playing like this since I left the company, and he’s currently 2-1 up. He’s a better player than me, so I like to think carefully before making any move.” “I think that’s great,” she said. “Well, like I say, it passes the time on long flights.” I paused for a moment. “You said that you like to play, would you like a game now? I asked, “I don’t have anything against playing a lady. I’ve got the portable chess-set with me.” She considered it for a moment. “Well, yeah I guess I would, but aren’t you using the set for your game with Eric?” “Don’t worry about that,” I replied “whenever we send each other the next move we attach an Excel spreadsheet showing the current position. I’ll just get the board.” I stood up, opened the locker, and withdrew the chess set from my case. “Oh, it’s a magnetic one, that’s clever,” she said when I’d opened the set. “Stops the pieces falling about as the bags get thrown around.” I placed the chess-set on the arms of the chairs between us, reset the pieces to their starting positions and invited her to make the opening move. Thirty minutes later we were absorbed in a tactical battle. The position was very equal. Apart from swapping my bishop for her knight, and trading the odd pawn, the match was very positional. The stewardess had been round a couple of times to refill our drinks, and an announcement was made over the inter-com that they would be dimming the lights so that passengers could either watch the movie or sleep. “Do you want to carry on, or would you rather watch the movie?” I asked, switching on the overhead individual light. “Of course I want to carry on, I’m enjoying this,” she said. “I think I’ve got the beating of you!” She reached up and switched her light on. “Oh you do, do you? Well in that case, perhaps we ought to put a little wager on it.” “Fine by me,” she said, “only I don’t carry much money. I pay for everything with plastic.” I thought about it for a moment. “Well, how about, we each choose something we like from the duty-free catalogue, and the loser has to buy it for the winner?” “OK, it’s a deal,” she said, reaching for the catalogue, “let’s put a limit of, say, $50 on it. Can you afford to spend that much?” “I won’t have to,” I teased, “you’ll be the one flashing the plastic. “$50 it is then,” she said leafing through the catalogue, as I reached for a similar one in the back-seat pocket in front of me. We sat in silence for a few minutes perusing the gifts. “Seen anything?” she asked. I pointed to a pair of cuff-links with a small diamond in each one. “They’re nice,” she said, “OK that will be your prize if the unthinkable happens. I for my part would like this bottle of Jean-Paul Gaultier perfume,” she said, pointing to the item in the catalogue. I love the smell, and it’s such a sexy bottle, the way it’s shaped and decorated like a woman wearing a basque. I’ve always wanted a bottle of that, but felt it’s too extravagant to spend so much on myself. My husband’s got no idea when it comes to buying perfume.” “Well don’t set your heart on it too much,” I said, “you’ll need your money for those diamond cuff-links. Now I think it’s your move.” Lucy immediately brought out her bishop and sat back in the corner of her chair, her back to the window, half facing me. I studied the board for a few moments and advanced one of my pawns. She leant forward, made another move and leant back again, tucking her legs under her in the chair. Her position was affording me a lovely view of most of her thigh, and her skirt appeared to be riding up somewhat. I wondered if she was aware of the view I had. We traded a few more moves and I began to get a positional advantage, and managed to capture her other knight for my pawn. The game appeared to be swinging my way. Lucy leant forward again and after a few moments studying the board, moved one of her rooks horizontally to patrol a vertical column. Satisfied with her move she leant back further this time, the skirt riding higher still. I could clearly see dark lace at the tops of her honey-coloured ‘stay-up’ stockings, and beyond that some of the fleshiness of her inner thighs. Checking to see that she hadn’t caught me looking, I glanced at her thighs again, before looking back to the board. I moved my rook into to the same rank as hers. As I was now effectively a piece up, I was quite happy to trade like for like. I looked up and her and, despite her casual posture, she appeared to be concentrating fully on the game. She leaned forward again, this time to move the bishop. Relaxing back against the window, her skirt rode higher still exposing for a brief second a glimpse of her purple coloured panties. It was only a glimpse, though, because a second later she put both legs on the floor and sat up a bit straighter. Damm it, I thought, I’d have liked a longer surreptitious look. “More wine, sir?” a voice at most shoulder asked, startling me. I turned around to see a steward with a bottle of wine in his hand and an enquiring look on his face. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to startle you, would you like some more wine?” I mumbled an embarrassed yes and held out my glass. “And for you madam?” Lucy had a half-smile on her face and likewise held out her glass. “Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked. “I won’t be coming round again until the movie has finished, but if you need anything or your glasses freshened, just press the buzzer.” “Could you get me a blanket please,” Lucy asked the steward. “Of course, madam, I’ll bring you one shortly” We turned our minds back to the game. I spent a good three or four minutes analysing the position before making my next move. If I could entice her to prod her king’s bishop’s pawn forward one square, I could pin her rook and queen with my bishop. I moved my knight forward as bait. As I’d hoped she went for it, moving her pawn forward. The steward returned with the blanket for Lucy, which she stored under her seat, but I scarcely noticed as I checked the board to make sure my strategy was correct. It looked good, I was about to win another piece, and moved my bishop into position. Lucy didn’t notice, she moved the rook out of harms way leaving her queen exposed. With a flourish I removed her queen and replaced it with my bishop. “Shit,” she said, “that was careless of me. I guess I’m not going home with any perfume.” “Forget it,” I said, “I wasn’t really going to take you up on the bet.” “What do you mean, forget it? If you win you’ll get your cuff-links, but you haven’t won yet. And, by the way, I hate phoney gallantry. I get enough of that crap at work. A bet’s a bet, and I’ll buy those damn cuff-links if you do win, and you’ll be buying that perfume if I do.” “Sorry, I thought you’d resigned.” “I never resign,” she said, “and I hate it when people do. Chess is a civilised version of war, and part of that war should be the victor getting his spoils at the end, namely the ritual killing of the king. Now, my move I think.” With that she took my knight with her pawn and, now that the steward had gone, arranged herself sideways again in her chair facing the board. Only this time she brought just her right leg up giving me again an ample view of her thighs and stocking tops. We traded some more moves, and a few pieces, and after each of hers she leant back further into the corner of her seat, the skirt creeping further up with each motion, her legs parting further each time. After a few moves I didn’t so much as glimpse her panties, I could now clearly see the purple satin material between the tops of her legs, and equally clearly this was no accident. Lucy was trying to put me off my concentration. We were now down to the end-game, Lucy with just a king, a rook and a couple of pawns, whereas I still had my queen, rook, and a knight, as well as the king. All I had to do was just finish the job off. I studied the board carefully, my eyes occasionally flicking up to peek at the panties. “Come on,” she said, “You’re taking your time over your move.” “Just concentrating,” I murmured. “And what exactly are your eyes concentrating on?” I looked up and there was a twinkle in her eyes. “Just visualising the next position are you?” she asked, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Just trying to figure out how best to mate you,” I responded dead-pan. I looked down at the board and moved my queen. Her hand stole out and made a move, but this time when she withdrew it, instead of draping it on her leg she rested it on the crotch of her panties. ‘Concentrate’, I thought, ‘Ignore those panties and look at the board.’ I stared down again but at the top of my line of vision I could make out some slight movements of her hand. I glanced slightly up. ‘Damn it, she’s stroking herself’ I thought. Now I didn’t want the game to finish, I wanted it to carry on as long as possible, to see how far she would go to try and distract me. I made a pointless move with my rook. Lucy, her fingers still absent-mindedly tracing the line of her cunt, was looking intently at the board. She reached out with her other hand and moved her rook. “Check!” she said. I glanced down and moved my king. She reached forward and moved the rook again. “Check!” she announced again. I looked down and then the horror struck me. All I could do was move the king back to where it had been, where she would just check me again. Lucy couldn’t win the game, but she had forced a stalemate. I looked up to see her grinning. “Seems you won’t get to mate me after all,” she said, that mischievous twinkle back in her eye. “You played very well,” I responded, “using all the weapons at your disposal.” I paused for a moment “If it is not too gallant for you, I would like to buy you that Jean-Paul Gaultier perfume, you deserve it for the way you played.” “Rob, that’s very sweet of you, and I do like real gallantry. But I will only agree so long as you let me buy you the cuff-links.” I considered this for a moment. “Actually, Lucy, I don’t want them anymore. I’d like something else please” I paused, “I’d like your panties!” She blinked. “My panties! My God, you’re one of those pervs who pinches underwear from washing-lines.” “No,” I laughed, “it’s just, you’ve been flashing them at me for the last hour or so, it would make an appropriate trophy.” She laughed.“Won’t people in your office wonder why you’ve got a pair of panties round your wrists?” “No they’re not for me to wear, silly, either round my wrists or round my waist, I would just, er, keep them in my underwear draw at home as a reminder of a delightful plane-trip…, not that I would need a reminder.” “OK, they’re yours” she said after considering it for a moment, “but, if you want them, you’ll have to remove them!” With that she picked up the blanket from the floor, switched off both overhead lights, and spread the blanket over herself. I meanwhile packed the chess-set away into the back of the seat in front, and lifted the two arms-rests between our seats. Lucy sidled her way towards me so that she was leaning against me, but facing away, and I turned in my seat further towards her. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds “Come on then, Rob, let’s see just how gallant you are.” I needed no further encouragement. My hand crept under the blanket and circled her waist. It slipped under the waist-band of her skirt, and I slowly eased out the ends of her blouse. Once my hand was on her stomach I started to make circular motions, the palm of my hand reaching further up with each circular action until it touched the underside of her bra. I eased my hand further up cupping the fullness of her breast through the material. “Those are not my panties,” she whispered, “and you’re certainly not having those. Everybody would be able to see my nipples when we get to Gatwick.” I started to move my hand back down her stomach again, when hers suddenly caught it and moved it back to her breast. “I didn’t say you should stop doing that though,” she whispered again. I resumed my stroking motions, gently squeezed her right breast, then slid my palm up and across the delicate valley of womanhood and inside the left cup. “That’s nice,” she whispered when fingers found her nipple. That’s very nice; women love that. Too often men ignore the breasts and just go straight for the honey-pot.” I nearly burst out laughing at the description. “I love your breasts,” I whispered back, “I noticed them the moment you stepped on the plane.” “Hang on a sec,” she said, and leant slightly forward and brought her hands up the back of her blouse, undoing the catch to the bra. The bra immediately slackened round my hand, although the shoulder straps kept it loosely in place. “That’s better,” she said ‘now carefully undo the buttons of my blouse, I want you to lick them!” “You want me to lick the buttons?” “No, you goof, my nipples. They’re crying out for attention.” “They’re certainly standing to attention,” I remarked, pressing my finger-tips against the left one again. A few moments more of playing with her nipple and cupping her breast, and then I withdrew my hand from under her blouse, and started unbuttoning it. I looked around but no one could see us. The guy one row further up on the opposite side of the plane appeared to be asleep, and the couple two rows ahead had head-sets on watching the movie. Even the steward and the stewardesses had taken the weight of their feet, and were napping in vacant seats further up. I undid the top button, parted the blouse slightly and brought my hand back under the now loose bra, cupping her left breast again. She turned slightly towards me, so that I could fully cup her breast. With my hand I moved the blouse further aside and brought my mouth down towards it. I parted my lips over the nipple and with my tongue flicked it back and forth. For a few minutes I paid a lot of attention to her breasts, sucking the nipples between my lips, tracing circular patterns across them with my tongue, or kissing the soft flesh round them. Lucy, meanwhile, was emitting soft sighs, and occasional murmurs of encouragement. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was slightly open, and I could hear her whisper “Yeah baby, that’s it, keeping doing that.” Meanwhile her hand snaked back behind her and found the hardness of my cock through my trousers. She grabbed me firmly through the material, the thumb of her hand brushing over the head. After a few moments of this she tried to locate the zip, and having finally found it within the folds of the material, attempted to ease it down. However, bent forward as I was, and given the position I was sitting, not to mention my ragging hard-on, this proved impossible. I pulled my face back from her breast and sat up. “Here, let me,” I whispered, and unzipped myself. Her hand snaked inside the trousers, and through the gap in my boxers. “Hmm, what do we have here, “she murmured, “I think it must be your bishop.” I nearly burst out laughing again. “My bishop?” I enquired. “Well in chess bishops traditionally come with a little slit at the top. This one certainly has,” she said, her thumb now gently passing over the cock-head. “This bishop certainly will come if you keep doing that,” I responded. She chuckled and her hand eased down the length of it, stroking it all the while. I leant forward again and brought my lips back to her breast. My hand meanwhile, worked its way under the blanket, slowly down her stomach, across the lap of her skirt, and rested on her inner thigh. There, repeating the circular motion of before, I slowly eased it upwards until I found that satin material that had so beguiled me earlier. I stroked her through the material, tracing the line of her pussy. Lucy parted her legs slightly further, and I could feel her nether lips parting with each stroke of my fingers. For a few minutes I kept this up, and remember thinking ‘God, I hope the steward doesn’t come around now, what with my hand up her skirt, my face buried in her breasts, and Lucy’s hand in my trousers’. My thoughts returned to the job in hand. I eased my fingers to the side and slid them inside the leg-band of the panties. She was soaking. The panties had been dry on the outside, but the inside lining was coated with her womanly juices. Two of my fingers slid straight up inside her. I pushed them in as far as they would go, and almost immediately brought them out again. My hand slid out her panties and I brought it back up to her breast, wiping the love-juice over her nipple. Having thoroughly coated it, I brought my mouth back down and proceeded to lick the nectar off her nipple. “What’s it taste of?” she whispered. “Honey from the honey-pot of course,” I replied raising my mouth to her ear. She chuckled again, her fingers still busy inside my boxers. My hand snaked back down inside her skirt and under the panties again, and resumed stroking her pussy-lips. Coating my fingers again in her juices, I moved my hand up through her soft curls and found her clit. With the tip of one finger, I twiddled her love-button, either pressing gently against it, or making repeated ‘figure-of-eight’ motion across it. “I thought you wanted my panties?” she questioned. “I do, and I will remove them, but I’d like them to be coated in your juices.” “They feel pretty sticky already,” she whispered, her voice trailing away as the intensity of the pleasure overwhelmed her. “That’s good, yeah, that’s good,” she murmured, her voice slow and laboured. It only took me a few minutes of this gentle stroking and I could feel her about to come; each breath she took deeper than the one before, and her hand was now furiously stroking up and down my cock. With a low gasp she suddenly came, biting down on her lip to muffle the sound and bringing her thighs together, trapping my hand between them. “Wow,” she said moments later, “that was pretty intense. You’ve done that before haven’t you?” “Haven’t you?” “Yeah, but I’ve never cum as quickly as that.” She paused a moment and eased her legs slightly, freeing my hand. “Well the panties are certainly drenched now.” I slipped my hand out her panties, moved it to the top of her ass and started to tug the material down. She helped by lifting her bottom slightly off the seat to help me. I eased them down her thighs, and over knees. Lucy brought her knees up, so that I could get them over her ankles and feet. I brought my hand up from under the blanket, and, looking round the cabin to check no one was looking our way (the movie had finished and what passengers there were, were sleeping), brought them up to my nose. “You are a perv!” Lucy exclaimed. Her hand had let go of my cock when the climax had hit her, and was now buttoning up the top of her blouse. “Get those trousers off, I want you inside me.” I eased my trousers and shorts down to my thigh, and pulled the blanket across so that it was covering both of us, then lifted the hem at the back of her skirt and pulled her ass against me, my cock nestling between the cheeks. Her hand snaked down the front of her thighs, reached between them and found my cock and guided the head to the entrance to her love tunnel. God she was wet. She was now effectively sitting on my lap facing away, although we were sideways in the seats, the blanket spread across us. She started to rock back and forth sliding up and down my pole, whilst I just sat, almost still, just making small thrusting movements. Suddenly a stewardess walked past our seats having come from the Economy section of the plane. We both froze, pretending to be asleep. I opened my eyes, after she’d passed, and watched her walk to the front galley, returning a moment later carrying a box of carton of plastic cups. She walked past us again not even glancing in our direction. “She’s gone,” I whispered in Lucy’s ear. Lucy took the cue and resumed her gyrations. “Rub my slit,” she whispered, “get you fingers wet again.” I brought my hand down from inside the blouse, where it had been curled around her breast, and found her clit again. “No further down’” she whispered, “I want your fingers wet.” I moved my hand lower sliding them up and down between her pussy lips, Lucy still rocking back and forth. “Are they wet?” she asked. “Of course they’re wet, you’re a bit of a gusher!” “Good, now, stick one in my ass!” Again I needed now second bidding, I pulled my hand off her belly and slid it down the small gap between my waist and the globes of her buttocks. Sliding my forefinger down the crack between them, my finger tip found the tip of her rosebud and pressed gently. “That’s it, ease it in,” said Lucy still rocking back and forth on my cock. My finger wormed deeper inside her, so that I could feel my cock through the thin membrane. “That’s it,” she said, “now let me do the moving. Her rocking action gathered pace and she brought her own hand down to her clit where she rubbed herself furiously. Once again I could here her low moans as she strived for her peak of pleasure. She turned her head slightly towards me. “Don’t cum inside me will you,” she whispered between gasps. “Why not?” She stopped her action. “Cause I’ve not got any panties you fool. I don’t want your cum trickling down my legs! Don’t worry, you’ll get your rocks off.” She resumed the rocking motion up and down on my cock and finger, her hand busily striving for the climax. It was not long in coming. Her motions became faster and faster until she suddenly froze burying her head in the back of her chair to muffle the sounds of her climax. “Jesus,” she said when she’d regained some composure, “that was more lethal than the first.” She paused for a few seconds before lifted herself slightly off me, freeing my finger, and letting my cock slide out of her. Reaching between her legs again she grabbed hold of my cock and pointed the head to her anal opening. “Now take it easy,” she said, “I don’t do this very often.” “I’d love to take you up the ass,” I said, “but you’re gonna make me cum.” “Don’t worry about that, honey, that’s the difference between pussy and ass. If you cum in my ass it won’t leak out. Opening’s too tight.” She lowered herself slowly back down onto my cock, the movement slightly helped by the juices already there and on my cock. With a short grunt from her, she eased herself completely down so that I was inside her up to the hilt. She paused for a moment as her body adjusted to the invasion, and then rather than repeat the rocking motion of earlier, started to clench and unclench her buttocks. I brought my hand down to her crotch again, searching for her pussy opening. “Don’t make my cum again,” she whispered, “or I’ll be a wreck by the time we land. Just enjoy.” I didn’t think I could bring her off again anyway, my own climax was approaching fast. She increased her clenching actions and with a wrench and a gasp of pleasure I came, flooding her insides with my sperm, two fingers buried deep inside her pussy. She turned her face towards me. “Checkmate!” she said. We sat like that for some minutes, my rapidly wilting cock still inside her ass. Finally she levered herself off me and settled back properly into her seat, smoothing down her skirt, and re-buttoning the lower fastenings on her blouse. I pulled my shorts and trousers up and too settled back. My left hand was still holding her panties. I brought them up to my nose for a last whiff of that delicious aroma and then stuffed them into my trouser pocket. I turned my head to look at her again. Her eyes were closed, a half-smile on her lips, and I closed mine and drifted off to sleep * * * * * * * * * * * * . Four hours later we were rudely interrupted by the cabin lights coming on. “Ladies and gentlemen,” announced the steward, “we will be arriving in Gatwick in about 90 minutes. We will shortly be coming round to serve you breakfast, and after that you will have the opportunity to buy some duty-free goods before we land.” ‘Ah, I thought, must remember to get that perfume’. I turned to look at Lucy, whose face was turned towards me. “You alright?” “Wonderful,” she replied, “I’ve had a very strange dream where I was the white queen in a chess-game. All the white pieces were women, and we were all naked, as were our black male opponents. Every time a piece was captured it was fucked by its opponent before being discarded.” “Sounds interesting. Did you win?” “It was a stalemate,” she smiled, “but I did get to capture a lot of black pieces.” “And was I in the game?” “Of course you were. In fact you captured me. It was the last move of the game. Once the white queen was gone, the position was equal and hence the stalemate.” “And so we…er…?” She moved her head over to me and whispered in my ear. “Oh yes, lover-boy, we did fuck again. Twice in fact, including once up my ass.” “So what piece was I then, the king?” “No darling, you were a bishop.” * * * * * * * * * * * * Breakfast was served and when the duty-free trolley came round I bought Lucy the bottle of Jean-Paul Gaultier perfume she had desired. Lucy excused herself and went to the W.C. to ‘tidy herself up a bit’. I watched her walk up the aisle and talk briefly with one of the stewardesses before entering the cubicle. I closed my eyes, thinking about the previous few hours, and drifted off to sleep again, and was only awoken later by Lucy’s hand jogging me. “Rob, wake up, it’s time to put you fasten your seat-belt, we’re almost there. You missed breakfast I’m afraid.” We landed to a grey and overcast Sussex morning. Once we were in the customs hall, Lucy stopped me and said “I’m going to kiss you goodbye, now. My husband will be waiting for me in Arrivals. Thank you for a wonderful flight – and the perfume. I will always think of you when I spray it on.” We kissed briefly on the lips and I watched her go, giving her a couple of minutes before I too ventured in the same direction. After re-claiming my baggage, I passed through passport control and customs. ‘Nothing to declare’ I thought ‘other than a pair of purple panties. My hand felt into my suit pocket, where I’d put them, to feel that satiny material again. It found them and my fingers again stroked the material as I recalled last night. My knuckles brushed against something hard in the pocket. I grabbed hold of whatever it was and pulled it out. It was a small burgundy coloured box. Opening it up I found myself staring at a pair of diamond cuff-links. Lucy in the Sky And the desire was so obvious. Chet's erection jutted out from his crotch like a mighty tree growing from a luxurious garden of blond pubic hair. His pink hairless balls swung freely between his spread thighs as he swayed sinuously. My hands slid up Lucy's slippery flanks, over her shoulders, and through her coppery hair, combing out the tangles so that her full mane hung down over her breasts, with her nipples poking out through the clumpy strands. Then my hands slipped under her armpits, so that they could cup under her heavy breasts, pushing them upwards and forwards in an offering to Chet. His hands reached out to accept the gifts, spreading his fingers over the heaving swells, then down to her chocolate colored nipples. His touch brought a surge of blood into the sensitive flesh, puffing the nipples up into hard rounded mounds that poked between his quivering knuckles. When Lucy's fingers intertwined with his, I pulled my hands away. The support that I had provided to her breasts seemed to have been the last thing that held up her body, and she sagged back against me. My breasts pressed into her back. I gradually allowed both of our bodies to sink to the ground, where we settled onto a warm slab of smooth granite, cushioned by a thick blanket that Chet and Lucy had spread out when we first arrived at the peak. Lucy's ass nested into the wide vee of my thighs, and her back reclined against my breasts. My hot nipples bored holes through her matted red hair and into the sweat-cooled skin over her shoulder blades. My arms angled out behind me so that I could support both of us. Chet kneeled on the ground in front of us. I lifted my feet and brought them up and over Lucy's legs, hooking my heels over her thighs. Ever so gradually, I tugged outwards with my feet, pulling her legs apart. The core of her physical sexuality was unveiled for Chet, who was staring unabashedly into Lucy's crotch. My view was blocked, but I knew that he was seeing the tangled bush of dark red hair slowly split into two halves, with her puffy outer lips framing a vertical line. I could imagine that line becoming broader, then it too splitting, showing a stripe of brighter pink, glistening with her secretions. Those juices filled the air with the natural perfume of arousal. It was a spicy fragrance that acted to take their hypnotic trance even further into the state of total primal lust. While Chet's stare was glued to Lucy's inviting cunt, I guessed that her own attention was similarly drawn to his crotch. I tilted my head to the side so that I could look over her shoulder, and I was able to examine his entire upper body as he continued to kneel in front of us. His tanned muscular torso glistened with perspiration, and featured his tiny pink nipples that contrasted so greatly with Lucy's full breasts and huge swollen nipples. His stomach was hard and rippled like the proverbial washboard, and he hadn't even a hint of the extra rolls of flesh that afflict many men and women in their forty's. But my attention didn't remain too long on his upper body, for my focus was easily attracted by the twitching movement of Chet's cock. It projected out from his groin-hard, white, and smooth, as if it was sculpted from alabaster, curving upwards in a perfect arc that left the exposed glans pointing toward his face. The reflexive movements were erratic and frequent, actually energized by the deliciously erotic tableau laid out in front of him. Further evidence of his involuntary reaction to Lucy came in the form of the glassy droplets of pre-cum that bubbled from the dark slit at the tip of his purplish-pin cockhead. Some of that clear liqueur ran down the snaking shaft of his cock in shining streaks, but several times, his swollen flesh jerked so violently that a droplet of liquid was flung into the air. When one of those viscous globules landed on the bare sole of my left foot, I felt a kinky tickle as it drooled down across the sensitive sole and onto my heel. I lifted that foot high up and inwards, and with my forehead, I nudged Lucy's head forward. She knew what I wanted, for it was also her desire. She grasped my foot in her left hand and pulled it toward her face. Her tongue lapped up the salty, slimy pre-cum like a cat sipping a bowl of milk. The roughness of her tongue tickled even more. She moaned deeply, and then I saw her right hand reach up to my foot. I thought that perhaps I was letting my own presence distract her from her true obsession Ð Chet. But then I realized that her moan had come only partly from the sensation of tasting Chet's pre-cum; that sound was also triggered by her own fingers as they dug deep into her cunt, scooping out a dollop of her vaginal secretions. She painted the thin juices over my toes, and then presented her gift to Chet, who eagerly sucked them into his mouth one by one, cleaning Lucy's pungent potion from my ticklish toes. As the two of them enjoyed their "sole food" appetizers, their eyes were locked on each other's. It was long past time for the overdue first kiss, so I reached out with both my feet, which were certainly no longer necessary to keep Lucy's thighs splayed wide apart. I hooked my toes around both sides of Chet's neck and pulled him toward Lucy. As he leaned forwards, his knees scooted up closer to Lucy's' crotch, and his hands touched the blanket on either side of my hips. Their lips attached as if drawn together by powerful magnets. They were so close to my own face that I couldn't really focus my eyes. But I could hear the smacking and slurping, and even the occasional harsh click of teeth colliding with teeth, as their tongues dueled in the wet confines of their eager mouths. Lucy had been waiting and fantasizing about this first kiss for most of her life, and judging by Chet's fervent enthusiasm, I had to surmise that the fantasies ran on a two-way street. Of course, when Chet's head had come forwards to kiss Lucy, my feet couldn't maintain their position. After all, as unusual as my position was at that moment, I'm not a circus contortionist. So I had to let my heels slide down Chet's arms, and then I tucked them inside his elbows. My feet were unerring as they homed in on Chet's rigid cock, and I cradled it's heated length between my soles, making a perfect "weiner in a bun" arrangement. My toes slid around on his bulging, slippery cockhead, and my heels pressed in just above his testicles. At this point I could only see blurry hair and glistening shoulders against a background of azure blue skies and the blinding hot sun. Lucy's hands came to rest on my ankles, and she used my feet like tools to caress Chet's cock for a few strokes. But I knew she wanted more direct contact, so I correctly anticipated it when she pushed my feet aside so that she could grip his hard-as-wood cock in her fingers. She pulled it away from his navel trying to aim it at her waiting cunt. But the stiffness of his erection resisted her attempts, and her hips were too low to ever line up with his groin. This required a bit of repositioning, so I lay back on the blanket completely, pulling Lucy back with me. Grabbing her waist, I pulled upwards, so that she slid on top of me, her ass cheeks right over my cunt. This only worked because she was so petite. Her head rested on the top of my breasts, and her hair draped to the ground on both sides of my neck. To make myself more comfortable, I pulled some clothes under my head to form a small pillow. Her legs fell over and outside of mine, and Chet repositioned himself with his knees inside of mine. Now he could lean forwards more, and Lucy was higher up. Within seconds of arranging this new geometry, Chet was rubbing his cock's swollen head up and down Lucy's cunt, pushing her matted red pubic hair and puffy labia aside. Each time he bumped over her hard clitoris, her entire body shuddered and she drew in her breath sharply. If I didn't know better, I might have assumed that she was in pain, but the fact that her thighs were splaying wider and wider with each of these twitches was proof that she was welcoming the attack on her hard nubbin of pleasure. Lucy begged Chet to put his cock into her, and he did stop swabbing her cunt and positioned himself right at the entrance to her gaping vagina. I grasped her knees in my hands, pulling them even more outwards, so that her thighs were stretched wide open. Still Chet waited, and Lucy beseeched him again. I suppose he wanted to be gentle by controlling his mounting lust..., or perhaps it was also a macho thing about being in control. But I remembered well from our college days that Lucy was no fragile porcelain doll, despite her petite physique. She and her boyfriends had kept me awake many nights with their fast, furious, and noisy sexcapades. And now especially, with the long-building anticipation, I knew her vagina was well lubricated and ready. So I lifted my feet from the ground and put them on Chet's hips. Pulling inward, he still resisted for a few seconds, and then I felt him begin to relent. I released his hips, lifted my feet as high as I could, and then slammed my heels down hard into his tightly muscled ass cheeks. The forceful blow spurred Chet forwards so that his cock thrust swiftly into Lucy's cunt. If she had not wanted this deep intrusion, she could have protected herself with her hands. But instead, her arms wrapped around his head and pulled him onto the top of the pile. Fortunately, he was considerate enough to keep his full weight from bearing down on Lucy and me. Sounds that are hard to describe emanated from deep in her lungs..., sort of a quivering exultant wail. That first thrust was followed inevitably by more. Pretty soon, my discomfort was exacerbated by the rollicking fucking that bore down on my hips and back. With a mighty push, I made it clear that they should roll over to the side. This maneuver ended up with Lucy astride Chet, still connected together. Without missing a beat, Lucy started bobbing up and down, riding his cock with all the eagerness and enthusiasm that I remembered so well from college. In the intervening years, she may have become more reserved about sex, but I guess it's like learning to ride a bicycle. Chet grabbed her hips and attempted to meet her bounces with upthrusts of his own. For a while, he kept pace, but soon, he gave up and simply lay still and let Lucy impale herself again and again on his immobile phallus. Her large firm breasts were dancing around wildly on her chest until Chet brought his hands up to try to capture them. His fingers pinched in on the fat brown nipples, which brought even more pleasure to Lucy's overstimulated flesh. Her matted red hair fluttered around her neck and whipped over the back of Chet's hands. Sweat ran down her back in sparkling rivulets, imitating thousands of liquid effervescent diamonds trickling along the contrasting pale skin and small dark freckles. Still she wanted more, so Lucy pulled one of Chet's hands from her bosom and pulled it to her crotch, with his palm upwards. Now the tips of his fingers could stimulate her clitoris as the protruding ridge of his cockhead raked along the soft tissues inside her vagina, stimulating her G spot. Lucy was possessing the object of her long-repressed desires, and she was possessed by her unfathomable lust. Later, there would be time for the two of them to enjoy more leisurely lovemaking. Now, they were rutting like the animals that we all are, when the inhibitions don't restrain us. Only minutes after I had initiated their first fuck with my kick-start, they were both transported into a magical state of total, full-body, heart-stopping orgasm. Chet's facial muscles clenched tight and his eyes clamped shut. His hips became animated once more, while Lucy stopped at the tops of her stroke, allowing Chet to stab his cock as deeply as he could with his back arched and his ass off the blanket. I thought Lucy would be toppled if her knees left the ground. Lucy let her head tip back and her body shook and shivered. Seconds (or was it minutes!) ticked past as they froze in a state of total rapture. Rhythmic jolts rippled through Chet's body as he splattered his semen in jets against her cervix. Eventually, some of that thick milky liquid leaked out from where the root of his cock was clenched between her cunt lips, and it pooled in the tendrils of his blond pubic hair. When finally Chet's hips fell back to the blanket, his cock drew out from her cunt and then flopped wetly onto his stomach. Lucy lowered her open cunt down onto its softening length, gently swiping up and down, smearing their intermingled juices all around the heaving pink skin of his tummy. Then she fell forwards into his passionate embrace, and their spent bodies rolled to the side. Within seconds, Chet was fast asleep. Lucy turned to me with a dreamy look. When I asked how this measured up to her fantasies, she replied with a slurred tongue, "Oh shit, that was better that I could ever have imagined. I have never been so unrestrained, so totally inside the experience......, if was like some kind of mystical out-of-body thing. I was all feelings. Physical feelings, emotional feelings, maybe even spiritual feelings. No interference from the intellectual side of things, no thought of the past, the future, of what other people would think...., just the here and now. It was magic. Thanks you so much for helping us get this to happen, and for being here to witness it. I'm not sure that I would believe it really did happen if you weren't here to convince me it wasn't all a dream.. "But what about you, Sue,...... you must be horny as all hell now. I know I would be if I watched this wild stuff only inches from my face. Why don't you take care of yourself." And then Lucy told me to sit on the smooth rock right in front of her, and to masturbate. And I did, right in front of her, within a couple of feet of Chet's unknowing head! I tried to take her inspiration and let the complete freedom of uninhibited lust take over my whole being. Even at the initial touch of my fingers to my dripping cunt, the first pangs of orgasm jolted through my nervous system like an electrical shock. Just a few light strums across the hard little prong of my clitoris brought me instantly to the full flowering of my climax. Lucy told me later that my cries of joy awakened Chet, and his eyes opened to the view of my body as I hunched down onto my palpating fingers. That was certainly quite the first day at the "camp." And we all had three more days to spend together. Needless to say, those hours were spent figuring out excuses to absent ourselves from the hustle and bustle of the family schedules. While Lucy's parents must have considered me to be an ungracious guest, I know that Lucy and Chet found me to be the best of company. Perhaps I'll tell you about the rest of that weekend some other time.