Finding Myself - The Addendum

Mutual Masturbation with a Stranger.

A note from Jayne.

I'm still not quite sure when my lesbian journey really got going. I try to explain it in the earlier parts of this series, but something tells me it started before then and one particular event comes to mind. So, as a sort of addendum to the series, here's an account of one particular episode that possibly sums up where it started in all seriousness.

Thanks for sticking with it and seeing this story through to this, its very last legs.

Love,

Jayne.

I'm attracted to a woman in a hotel by the clothes she wears.

She didn't actually stare at me. She didn't hold strong eye contact and our gazes didn't really linger on each other. But she certainly looked at me rather more than most women do at other women. She certainly made strong eye contact, albeit fleetingly, and certainly her glances swept across my face looking into my eyes before moving on to catch those of one of the other glamorous people at her table.

I was in a hotel restaurant with my husband. We were in Tuscany, not far from Florence, but deep in the countryside. It was lovely. The restaurant catered for the hotel guests, the visitors staying in the country houses and estates dotted round the heavily wooded, Tuscan hillsides and the locals. My husband had business meetings in the hotel and nearby and I was able to tag along and enjoy the beautiful countryside, great hotel and fabulous food? It was actually just out of season, being early May, and the hotel was sparsely occupied, which suited me down to the ground as I would be alone most of the time and I wouldn't have the other guests staring at me wondering why I was by myself.

We were at a table for two in the dimly lit, noisy and very atmospheric hotel restaurant. It was a long, but rather narrow room with tables along each side with a couple of metres between the two rows. I was facing into the restaurant, my husband was looking at me and the brick wall behind me. I was the lucky one with the view. Opposite us on the other side of room there was a larger table. I never did work out just how many were at the table, somewhere between ten and fourteen I guessed, but as they changed places quite a lot and kept going off to the loo or out of the restaurant, it was hard to keep tabs on them. This was before smoking was banned in public places in Italy so they were not popping out for a smoke, but probably for some substance that was as illegal then as it is now, they all seemed very buzzy!

She was sitting at the end of the table, directly over Kevin's shoulder. Her carver chair was turned away from the table a little, facing out towards the room and pointed towards us. It was her boots which first caught my attention. They were knee length, black and made from that so soft leather that you only seem to see in Italy. They were gorgeous and, I thought, outrageously sexy. They had a turnover, of probably an inch or so at the top, and a lace running round the top of the boots beneath that. Each lace had a little, silver stud on it, which stood out in stark contrast to the blackness of the leather and were tied in a bow at the front.

She had shoulder length, hair that was as black as her boots and a dusky complexion. She looked mixed race and she was beautiful. She had big, eyes, full lips and the high, prominent cheekbones, which gave her an Eastern look.

It was our first night at the hotel having flown into Pisa the day before. We had spent yesterday in Florence, shopping and wandering around the gorgeous old streets and buildings, simply loving the atmosphere. Kevin had rented a Mercedes and we had driven out to Spirensi during the afternoon. I'd spent some time in the spa, having a great massage and a couple of treatments, so I was feeling good and hoped I looked that way as well. I had been on a diet recently and had lost some weight, so I was down to a nearly respectable one forty pounds. I do have this problem with my weight in that I put it on easily, but also do not have that much trouble losing it; the problem is it seems to mostly go on and then come off two places, mainly, my 'tits and ass.' So my most vital of statistics range from a comfortable 'weight off' 34 C, to an uncomfortable and plays havoc with my golf swing, 35 D and occasionally even DD. That makes for murder with my bras, as I am often either, bursting out of them for they are too tight or, they are slipping around my boobs for they are too loose. The solution is bloody expensive, two sets of bras.

We were waiting for our starters when I first noticed her. She was wearing, what looked like, white leggings tucked into the boots and a beige, sleeveless garment with large, silver buttons up the front, even though most of those were undone and I couldn't make out, and didn't dare look too closely, to see if it was a dress or a coat or what? Under that, she was wearing what looked to be a long, sleeved, round necked, white tee shirt type of thing. She looked gorgeous. As I sipped my punt e mes aperitif and looked at the menu, I saw her turn her chair away from the table and stretch her legs out. That was what first caught my attention and caused me to look up. My eyes ran up the boots, the white leggings, the beige garment and upwards to her face. That makes it sound as though it took a long time. It didn't, it was just a quick glance, but I felt embarrassed when she caught me looking so I quickly looked back at the menu. I couldn't, for some reason, resist lifting my eyes again and once more she caught me looking at her. She looked away, but then she seemed to stretch her leg further and lift her one foot off the floor a short distance. As she did, her skirt rode up a little and I saw more of her white leggings. They had a slight, silky sheen to them.

The waiter asked for our orders, I chose a, small, sea food risotto and roast veal. Kevin asked for pasta and rabbit and ordered a bottle of Gavi di Gavi and a half bottle of Chianti.

It really was an odd sensation being seated opposite my husband and looking past him at this amazingly attractive and hugely sexy woman who seemed to be putting on a bit of a show or, even, I thought to myself reluctantly, coming on to me; surely not, I thought when I looked away from her? I kept glancing up and down her table to see if there was someone she was 'playing' to, but couldn't see anyone. 'Surely she isn't putting on the show just for me?' I thought. As I looked up and down the people at that table, I saw they were a very glamorous bunch. Most of the men were good looking and all of the women were attractive. There was a lot of female flesh on show, I noticed. I had, at first, assumed they were Italian and certainly some were, but most were probably either, Dutch or Danish, maybe Swedish. They spoke in a variety of languages with a lot being said in what was likely to be the most common language of English.

Waiting for my starter and sipping the delicious white wine, I saw that she was in deep conversation with a couple to her right. She was slightly turned away from me, giving me the opportunity to look more closely and take my time. Kevin was talking about the deal he was negotiating and, as usual, that was going well over my head. Feigning to be listening attentively to him, I was able to take more time looking at the unusual situation in general and this extraordinary woman in particular.

I guessed that she was in her late twenties, some seven or so years younger than me, although checking for any face wrinkles was difficult in the dim light. She was slim and probably quite tall, willowy was the term that came to mind. She frequently brushed her black hair away from her face and as she did the dress gaped suggesting that all of the buttons, certainly at the top were undone; 'Very strange' I thought. As she raised her arm the white material was stretched across her breasts. They were quite small, B cup at most, but I noticed, with a totally untypical quickening of my pulse, that she didn't appear to be wearing a bra.

As the waiter was serving my risotto I was looking past him and Kevin right at the girl. She had, once more, pushed the hair from her face and was holding a long lock in place on the top of her head with her hand. She was side on to me with her face turned away as she chatted with some colleagues along the table. I had a perfect view of the outline of her left breast and could see the slight bulge in the white material caused by her nipple. If she was wearing a bra, it must have been an incredibly thin one.

"Are you listening to me?" Kevin asked.

I pulled my gaze away from the girl and focused on my husband, but I couldn't help seeing that as I looked away from her she looked at me, "Yes, sorry darling," I said placing my hand on his, "I was looking at the group on the table over there and wondering what they are and do?"

He turned his head over his right shoulder, which was away from the girl in white.

"You and your people watching," he laughed adding, "They do look a glam and interesting lot, I have to say."

As he was looking to his right, I glanced over his left shoulder. She was laid back in her chair, her legs stretched out before her pointing towards us, with her face turned to her right looking up the table. She was smoking. After taking a drag she put her head back and blew the smoke towards the ceiling, which straightened her neck and again stretched the material over her breasts; it was a hugely erotic pose.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," Kevin was saying as I saw the girl turning her chair back towards the table. She pulled it in towards the end of the table and slid her legs under it, "I'll be gone all day, but the weather forecast is good."

"Great, that means I can get some sun."

"Yes you should, they forecast mid-twenties."

"What's that in proper heat?"

"Nearly eighty."

"I probably won't be back until late."

"That's fine, I'll have room service and watch TV, just give me a call."

"Of course."

We were now well into our main courses, whereas on the other table they were into espressos and grappas and the like. I saw her throwing her head back and laughing, leaning back in her chair sipping her liquor, leaning forward putting her chin on her hand and then pushing her chair back again. Several times she turned her face and glanced at me, twice catching me looking at her. Both times I looked away, but then looked back and once found her still staring. She held my gaze, I couldn't tear it away, a slight smile was on her lips.

"But I will be here all day Wednesday, I have meetings in the hotel," Kevin was saying as my mind went into a complete whirl.

She had pushed her chair back and was standing up. She was taller than I had thought. She said something to a couple with their backs towards me; they all laughed, with her showing a set of very white teeth. As she turned a little towards me, still talking and laughing with the others I saw that the beige, garment was a mid-thigh, length type of waistcoat; all the buttons were undone. One of the guys sitting facing me at the table, pointed at her waistcoat and said something. She looked down, grabbed the hem of the waistcoat and said something in the same language; it sounded like a swear word. Several people laughed, but she looked annoyed. She removed the waistcoat, held it up and looked closely at what was clearly a stain or something. She said something to the table as a whole and bent forward to stub out her cigarette. As she did, she turned away from me a little and bent forward giving me direct views of her pert, rounded bottom in the tight white leggings and of her unfettered breasts hanging down from her body in the thin material of her top. I had never experienced such feelings looking at a woman before. But if they were intense then, the strength of them went off the Richter scale when she glanced at me, held my gaze for a moment or two then casually walked towards me, a few paces and then turned and walked away from me down the restaurant carrying the waistcoat in her hands in front of her.

I had to say something to Kevin.

"I know how much you like to look at sexy girls darling, so look to your right, now."

He turned at just the right moment.

"Bloody hell, what is she wearing?"

"Looks like modern long johns don't they?" I said as we both stared at the beautifully undulating bottom and long slender legs walking away from us down the restaurant. Clearly, with the way that the thin material clung to each cheek, they were uncovered under it and the most, if anything, she had on under the leggings was the tiniest of thongs, although I could see no wrinkles or bumps at all.

I bet you would have liked to have kissed her wouldn't you?"

"No, I've told you loads of times, I don't think like that."

"But she excited you didn't she?"

"Interested maybe, not excited as such."

"What's the difference."

"This excites me," I said stroking Kevin's cock.

"What's the difference between this," he said thrusting himself in my hand, "And this?" He asked, sucking my nipple into his mouth.

I smiled thinking 'Men never understand how women can be interested in other women in a totally theoretical way, how we can admire another female's beauty or sexiness without actually fancying them.' I said, "I've told you I don't fancy women," I stroked his cock and pushed my nipple more firmly into his mouth, "I only like cock."

Kevin rolled me onto my front. I lay there my arms to the side, bent at the elbows, my hands under my forehead. He pulled my legs open.

"She did look fantastic though, didn't she?" He asked as he lay on my back between my open legs.

For some time now, Kevin had been whingeing on about how he would like to see me with another woman. He just didn't seem to be able to accept that I have no interest in having sex with another female. He gets so confused because I can say. "Wow isn't she pretty?" or, "She has nice tits," without wanting to get closer to her. I don't think he understands the concept that most, or at least some, women are like me and are completely heterosexual.

As his hands wiggled round my body and under me to grasp my breasts and as the tip of his cock nuzzled against my lips I murmured.

"Yes Kevin she did look fantastic."

As indeed I thought she had. Both as she walked away from us, her hips swaying and bottom wiggling in the most seductive manner and undulating from side to side and, as five minutes or so later, she walked back up the length of the restaurant. I am sure that on both journeys, nearly every eye in the room followed her every move. Mine certainly did I recalled, as Kevin's sank his cock into me, squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples. I pushed back at him loving the feeling of being filled from behind.

As she had walked back I got a closer look at the white outfit. It essentially was a pair of old-fashioned long johns of the style worn by cowboys; it was one piece not, as I had earlier thought, a vest and leggings. It had a rounded collar, long sleeves and three or four buttons at the neck. It fitted her tightly, clinging to her small breasts, slim waist, rounded hips, pert bottom and lithe legs almost like a second skin. Of course, it was made from a more modern material, maybe cotton or a light wool and silk, that had some 'stretchiness' in it for the garment moved with her body as she elegantly and sexily walked the walk of lust in that restaurant. As an avid reader of Vogue, Marie Claire and visitor to top fashion shops in London, I had never seen anything like it. White, silky, long johns tucked into black leather, knee length boots. She certainly was an artist at putting an outfit together that said just one thing, "I want to be fucked." And I would not be a bit surprised if practically every diner, male and female, would have liked to oblige.

Even as Kevin started thrusting in and out of me, pushed my blonde hair to one side carefully avoiding my glasses, kissed and licked my neck and continued squeezing my breasts, half of my thoughts were on her.

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" He suddenly said.

"Yes a little," I said as the sensations built up in my pussy and breasts as my husband fucked me and we talked about another woman.

"What are you thinking?"

"What a nice wiggle she had."

"You mean the way her arse wobbled?" He grunted thrusting hard at me.

"Yes, and the way her boobs looked."

"Like she clearly wasn't a bra, for you could see her nipples through the top, couldn't you?"

"Yes," I gasped lifting myself up a tad to slightly change his angle of penetration and thus the depth. It felt lovely.

I was thinking of those things, but also of something else. That was, as she went from her table to the loo and as she returned, she had to walk towards our table. On both trips her gaze seemed to lock onto mine. It was as though both of us just had eyes for each other. It was as though we were the only people there. It was as though she was putting on a show just for me. It was as though she was flaunting herself at me. Yes, it was as though she was putting on an exhibitionist show for my eager voyeuristic pleasure and as my husband fucked me to a satisfying orgasm, we were both thinking about the amazing exhibition we had both witnessed in the hotel restaurant earlier.

Kevin was up and away early the next day. I had a leisurely breakfast on the balcony of our room taking in the early, well nine o' clock, sun. I had checked the forecast and was delighted to hear that, despite the time of year the temperature was going to be in the mid-eighties with sun all day. That was not the picture for later in the week for some rain was moving down from the Alps.

'I have to make the best of today then, I was thinking, as I bathed, did my finger and toe nails, put on some make up, fixed my hair and trimmed my bikini line. I slipped into a black bikini with fashionably, but unexcitingly, I thought, full, quite high-waisted panties. The bra was cut acutely across my breasts and left little margin for error when moving. "Not really a swimsuit is it?" Kevin had said when I had worn it on our last holiday.

I slid a red, voile sundress on and slipped into a pair of mid height, strappy sandals. I got my books, sun oil and other bits and pieces, put on my D & G big sunglasses and set off for the pool. Apart from the guy who looked after the towels and beds and doubled as a waiter, I was the only one in the small pool area. I lay down and didn't remember a thing until I heard laughter and loud talking in the slightly guttural language interspersed with some Italian and English that I had heard in the restaurant last night. Looking up I saw some of the group from that table last night, but alas, not her. There were six or seven guys and two girls bunched together on sunbeds and chairs on the opposite side and more towards the other end of the pool. They would have had to walk right past me to get where they were and I was surprised they hadn't woken me then. They really were a glamorous group and, like many people on holiday I wondered just what they did, who they were and where they came from? I was able to lay back, behind my shades and just stare and I liked that. I was watching them so intently I hadn't heard the gate to the pool complex opening and my heart leaped when I saw she was walking past. I looked up thinking I might catch her eye and, perhaps, gain some acknowledgement, perhaps a nod, a smile, a hello or something. But no, nothing, she totally blanked me.

She was wearing a black jacket, that's all you could call it. Made from a very thin material, it was a bit like a man's double breasted dinner jacket, for it had plunging lapels, but unlike the other garment this had a tie round the waist. That was pulled tight, leaving the skirt part of the jacket to flair out over her hips making them appear even more rounded than they had looked to be in the long johns last night. Her dark hair was in a pony tail and she too was wearing fashionably big and dark glasses. On her feet she was wearing high heeled pumps with her toes pushed into a little strand of transparent plastic. The wiggle, as she strolled round the pool to her friends, was as enticingly erotic as it had been on her 'walk of lust' in the restaurant the night before.

"So what did she do this time?" Kevin asked as he undressed me that evening after returning to the hotel around eight.

"For a while nothing, she simply sat and chatted to the six or seven guys and the two other girls."

Kevin kissed me deeply and I responded as he is a great kisser, but very energetic and I have to take care. He has this wonderful knack of sucking my lower lip into his mouth. It's a great feeling, but can cause unsightly swelling fairly easily. He flipped my bra clip undone and eased the straps off each shoulder.

"What then?"

"They were all lying down and she was standing, the only one like that."

"Still in the jacket?" He asked sliding the cups of my bra off my boobs.

"Yes."

"So what was the big deal?"

He was now licking my nipples and sliding his hand up my inner thigh. 'Nice, even if it is your husband,' I smiled.

"She was standing with her back to the pool and to me when she undid the tie at the waist of the jacket," I muttered, pressing my boob against his mouth and slightly opening my legs. "She undid it and, holding the edges of the jacket, she slowly opened it, just like you imagine a flasher in a dirty raincoat does."

"Mmmm, nice," he muttered sucking my nipple into his mouth and running his fingers the length of my lips inside the gusset of my panties. I reached for his erection inside his stylish, Italian, linen trousers.

"I could tell that the guys liked what they saw, for there was a couple of whoops and wows. I thought she probably was wearing a stylish and sexy bikini or something."

Kevin slipped his fingers inside my panties.

"Mmmm, is that me or her that's done this?" He asked.

"Done what?" I replied sliding my fingers inside the waist of his trousers and feeling pleased that just beneath his waist they found the tip of his fully extended cock.

"Made you this wet," Kevin replied putting his fingers to my mouth. "Taste?"

I did, it was nice.

"Both of you I imagine darling," I replied stroking his familiar, but always wonderfully exciting cock.

"Then what happened?"

"She turned round."

"What so she was facing you?"

"Yes, but it seemed more than facing."

"What do you mean?" He asked, rolling my skirt up; I lifted my bum to help him, despite the skirt being horrendously expensive and me worrying about it being creased.

"It was more," I started saying, quite slowly, wondering just what I should tell my husband about my feelings.

"How more?" He grunted as he slid his hand into my panties.

"It was as if she was staring at me, doing it for me even."

"Doing what?"

"Flashing herself."

"What do you mean, flashing?"

"She was almost naked under the jacket, just the tiniest of thongs and no bra."

"Oh fucking hell, where was I? What the hell I was I doing not being here?" He said slipping his fingers in me.

"Er, do you mind, Mr Williams remember me? Your wife." I asked in a jokey manner as I opened my legs even wider. Kevin pushed deeper. "Jesus," I grunted as his, what must have been three fingers slid right up me and the knuckle by his thumb pushed right against my clit.

It had been a quite amazing experience to see this incredible girl exposing herself to all and sundry. After flashing me, she remained standing, turning in different directions as she chatted to her friends and looked around the pool including staring in my direction several times. On one glance in my direction, she slowly eased the jacket off her shoulders and casually let it fall to the floor. Turning her back on me, she took a few paces towards the big wags bag she had earlier laid on the ground. I watched fascinated as she bent at the waist, keeping her, what seemed like impossibly, long legs dead straight and rummaged in the bag. Her bum seemed to be signalling to me, but just what message it was transmitting I had no idea. I am sure she took longer than was needed bent over like that exhibiting her wonderful bottom and marvellous legs and I am equally sure, she wiggled it a couple of times as well. Naturally, as thongs do, the slither of material had snuggled deep into the cleavage between the symmetrical cheeks of her, what looked to me to be, perfect bum for it really was quite some sight, even to a woman like me who is not interested in other females!

At last she straightened up clasping a bottle of sun oil in her hand. As brazenly as anything, she stood there on the side of the pool, in front of all her friends and now and then looking at me and applied oil to all of her body: her shoulders, chest, tummy, waist, upper and lower legs and then, with her eyes seeming to be more than ever looking in my direction, her small, but beautifully shaped breasts. I just wondered how many of the guys looking at her had got hard ons, but wisely, none of them moved.

I stayed at the pool for an hour or so more wondering if anything else might happen. When it didn't look as though it would, I returned to our room to sunbathe on the large south facing balcony. It was secluded, no one could see me, could they? No, they couldn't I concluded as firstly my top then my panties came off. Laying there naked, I felt wonderful. I adore the sun and breeze on my body especially on my bare tits, though it was a rarity, though, to feel them on my bare tummy and pubes. Not just a rarity but also an arouser.

Of course she was in my mind as my hand found my breast. It was her slim, willowy, near naked body that I was thinking about as my other hand slid down my body and cupped my mound. It was all the visions of her in the long johns, her nipples showing through it, her crotch emphasised by the tight material, her wobbling, wiggling bottom and of her opening the jacket to show me her near nudity, which were in my mind as I began to masturbate. It was her hands smoothing the oil into her breasts that I was 'seeing' as my fingers aroused and stimulated my clit. As I fucked myself, my mind was fucking her, but in a non-physical, purely emotional way. Yes, she and I were having sex on a level that I had not yet visited, but one I knew I would one day. A level that was all about exhibiting oneself and watching, rather than actually fucking others.

I didn't think it wise to tell Kevin much more about her and what I had seen other than to say how she had oiled herself. He loved that and thrust himself deep into me as I told him, "And she rubbed the oil into her bare tits staring straight at me."

It was overcast and scheduled for light rain the next day so I bagged a ride into Florence with Kevin who had a series of meetings in the glorious old city. I thought some serious shopping was called for and I had a delightful day taking on the Florentine boutiques, it was wonderful. As Kevin had called and said he was running late I caught the train and a cab back to the hotel, arriving there around five. It was almost deserted. Kevin got back an hour or so later and after kissing me and touching my breasts, the old romantic after ten years or so, said.

"I checked the restaurant and they have no reservations this evening so, my little voyeur, no fun for you."

"Bugger," I smiled back.

"So how about we walk into the village and try that little restaurant in the main square? It looked quite good."

We had a lovely evening. It was just a simple trattoria, but as is so typical throughout Italy, especially in Tuscany, the food was wonderful. Simple, straightforward seafood pasta, with loads of gorgeous, freshly baked bread and then salad and roast veal followed by local strawberries. I felt very much like the eating scene in Tom Jones as my husband and I sort of flaunted ourselves at each other via the food. We washed it down with a bottle of chianti and strolled back to the hotel feeling mellow and very much in love. We were in bed by ten reading our books, sipping grappa and watching CNN. We didn't have sex that night, but drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, my boobs squashed against Kevin's hairy chest. We had breakfast together and as it was still slightly overcast I hadn't made my mind up what to do?

"Maybe you'll see your flasher again?" He suggested, taking me into his arms.

"Maybe she's gone home?" I replied.

"Maybe she's trying to pull you," Kevin said, pushing the lapels of my silk robe off my shoulder, exposing my right breast.

"Maybe she might be, but remember I don't do women, maybe she wants you," I replied as my robe billowed open.

"Maybe you don't, but maybe one day you might, just for me," he said pushing the robe from my body.

"Maybe, maybe, maybe," I said taking his splendidly full erection in my hand.

I thought he was going to fuck me, I was completely up for it, but he had other aspirations, although I didn't swallow all of it though, just most.

I mooched around the hotel and the indoor and outdoor pools during the morning and then had a massage, a facial and a body treatment in the spa for most of the afternoon. With the place being almost empty and the weather unreliable, I was becoming rather bored, but felt better when I watched the CNN news and weather and saw that warm, sunny weather was forecast for the rest of the week.

After Kevin returned around six, we toyed with going out to a restaurant, but as our package included dinner and neither of us felt up to searching around for somewhere else we decided to eat at the hotel.

"If it's quiet, we'll have a quick dinner and a long fuck," he informed me.

"And if it's busy, a long dinner and a quick fuck?" I smiled back.

"Our fucks are never quick luv," he responded kissing me. "Tell you what, if your bird is there let's see if she wants to join us?"

"Don't be daft, she's probably gone home."

"Oh, so if she hadn't then you'd consider it?" He quipped back quickly.

"Oh sod off, Kev."

"Not just for me?"

"I can't manufacture fancying women, you know, no more than you could men. How about if I said let's get that tall guy with the blonde hair to join us and for him and you to get friendly, what would you say then?"

"Ok, ok, you've made your point, but I always think it's different for women."

To our amazement, as we approached the bar there was loads of noise, it was crowded.

"Shit, I didn't make a reservation," Kevin said. "Hang on."

I stood by the entrance to the bar as he rushed off to the restaurant. I was wearing white, quite tight, thin trousers and a turquoise top. That was made from a thin material, like a voile so was partly see through. It was like a long sleeved, fitted tee shirt with a scooped front and back. It was tight across my boobs, but looser beneath them and was worn outside the trousers. I was showing a lot of flesh and a deep cleavage, for I was wearing one of my bras that was really for a weight off period, when my boobs slip beneath a real D, not like now when they reach a full DD. I felt good and quite sexy. Looking around I saw some familiar faces, my pulse started to race a little, for I realised that they were the group she was with and they clearly hadn't left. I was searching round the bar, hoping to see her when I heard someone say.

"Excuse me."

I moved to one side and turned at the same time. It was her. We were very close, our eyes met and she smiled. I thought she was going to say something, but all she did was nod, look up and down my body and move on. My gaze followed her as she walked slowly and purposefully over to her crowd in the far corner.

'How can a woman do this to me?' I asked myself as I felt my breasts start to tingle, a warmth spread out from my crotch and my nipples begin to harden. But then, looking at the gorgeous creature, I suggested to myself that she could have a stunning effect on any man and most women. She was wearing a pale pink dress, though to call it simply a dress is such an understatement, a little like calling Concord, 'just a plane.'

It was made from silk. The skirt was loose and ridiculously short, for the hem was just several inches down her thighs. It had a collar and a slit down the front, but no buttons as far as I could see. The slit reached to between her boobs. As she had stood beside me, I had seen the sides of both of them and wondered with both credulity and a tremor of excitement, just what she would show when she bent forward, stretched or sat down.

"That was lucky," I heard Kevin say as he took hold of my elbow.

"What was?" I asked thinking he meant me seeing her.

"The maitre d' saved us a table, well more a little space in a corner, they are full up with a big party who are in three houses in the village, it's someone's anniversary."

"That's good."

"And there is also a table of sixteen from the TV company shooting an ad. I wonder who they can be?"

I smiled at him. "I think we can guess that."

"Yes, they are over in that corner" he said as we found a place by the bar. "There she is," he said touching my wrist. "Jesus Christ what is she wearing? Look Jayne."

"I saw her when she came into the bar. If she wasn't so lovely it would be obscene," I said, agreeing with the barman that Pernod would be fine as they had no Punt es Mes.

"Hey, steady, I'll begin to think you are starting to fancy her," he said squeezing my hand as we sat on the bar stools our knees touching.

It was another amazing evening. We went to our table just after her party. Once more we had a good view of her, with this time both of us being side on to her. As we ate our delicious sea food starters Kevin said, "How I wish there were more flashers like her around." I glanced over and saw that she was sitting with her elbows on the table. That made the front of her dress gape and from where I was I could see most of both boobs and I could see that the guy on her left would probably have been able to see all of one, including her nipple, which was making a clearly visible bulge in the silk.

"Flasher? What do you mean Kev?"

"Well some people seem to want to flaunt what they have at others."

"Yes but she's not a flasher, not like the dirty mac brigade is she?"

"I dunno, I think perhaps she is. It's the same principle, getting a sexual kick from strangers looking at you."

"Bit of difference, though, between a grubby bloke flashing his dick and a gorgeous bird revealing herself," I snorted, half, but not completely joking.

"Only to the audience really. The flasher is after the same gratification whether he is showing a half hard dick by opening his coat or she is exposing a nice bum, long legs or nice tits in a ridiculous brief dress. They are both exhibitionists aren't they?"

"I guess you're right."

"And to an extent," Kevin went on, his eyes fixed on the gorgeous creature who was now sitting back in her chair with her impossibly long legs stretched out before her, "We're the voyeurs aren't we?" I had no experience whatsoever and little real knowledge about, either exhibitionism, or voyeurism and I had never given either much thought nor had I wondered just why it was some people, women especially, had the need, compulsion or whatever to flash their body at others. As we both finished off our starters in silence I had a couple of thoughts. Like many women, I did, at times wear clothes that showed a lot of my boobs or legs, I wore brief bikinis and went topless at the pool and beach. And, as I thought about that in relation to the girl at the next table, I had to acknowledge that I did get a kick from men looking at me. As I accepted that, I thought a little deeper and realised that I was getting a similar sensation from looking at her. 'Was I both an exhibitionist and a voyeur? Can you be both?' I wondered.

Whilst waiting for our main courses I saw her looking over at us a few times. Whilst I may have been mistaken, I rather got the impression that when she glanced our way it was more me she looked at, than Kevin. Oddly and unexpectedly that gave me quite a thrill. 'She fancies me more than him' I found myself thinking as once more her eyes caught mine before travelling down to my waist, lingering, I thought, on my breasts. She was again making me feel excited, not of course because I fancied women or anything like that, I smiled to myself as I realised that I had sat up straighter and I was arching my back a little.

Similar to that first evening, she was putting on something of a show and there were lots of comings and goings amongst her group. It seemed as if the place settings were on a revolving basis for most of the diners moved round the table, although she stayed pretty much in the same place, but did get up and go out to the bar or outside several times.

Of course, as she got up, sat down, crossed and uncrossed her legs, straightened them out or bent them under her chair, her skirt moved. It went up her legs to a point where it seemed impossible that she could retain any coverage of her panties, if she was wearing them, but somehow she never quite flashed what was under the skirt. However, that was not the case with her top. As she leaned forward or bent at the waist to sit down or get up, so the front would gape, so it would billow away from her chest and so the two sides of the slit would open up. And as that happened, so she exposed more of her chest, revealed more flesh, flashed larger proportions of her breasts and yes, so she put on more of an exhibition for us.

She was resting her head on her hand, with her elbow on the table, talking to a guy just along from her. She was bent forward and the top was gaping. I could see most of her right breast, but not her areola or her nipple, which for some reason I could not at all fathom, that annoyed and frustrated me. I know I had seen them at the pool, but for some reason seeing them again now took on an importance far beyond any possible excitement I would, or could, get from seeing that circle of pinkness. I was getting the same feelings from looking at her legs and the hem of her skirt. I was willing with all my silent might for it to slip up that extra few inches so I would see her panties, or no panties, if that was the case. Just what was it, I wondered, that makes a glimpse of a nipple or a flash of panties such a significant attraction at a time like this? I was dreaming away like that watching the waiter serve the sea bass Kevin and I were sharing. When I switched my gaze from watching him to her, she was staring straight at me. Her arm was down by her side, maybe slightly pulling on the material of the top, so it was gaping more than it had been. Holding my gaze, she turned a little towards me. The top opened even further and I saw more of her breast. She glanced at Kevin, who I saw was also looking at her, then back to me and held my gaze as she leaned forward. Slowly, tantalisingly slowly, the material slid away from her breast revealing her small, dark nipple, which was obviously hard. I gulped and felt a strong flush of sexual arousal. She smiled and as slowly as she had let the top open up, she turned away.

"Fucking hell, what is she up to?" Kevin said, gripping my hand.

"No idea, but I didn't see you looking away or blushing," I smiled, trying to cover my embarrassment at my feelings.

Looking at me, Kevin said. "Well I can see you enjoyed it," as he stared at my breast.

As I looked down, I saw she was looking over her shoulder and also staring at my chest. What an odd scene? My husband, me and this stranger all staring at the twin bulges in my tight top.

For the rest of the evening, we didn't see that much of her, but what we did see was incredible. Walking through the restaurant showing us, and everyone else, that wonderful wiggle and her long, long, bare legs. Leaning forward when seated exposing most of her boobs and slumping back in her chair, her legs stretched out and the hem of her skirt as far up her thighs as it could go, nearly showing if she was wearing knickers or not. And once, when standing with her back to us, after looking over her shoulder at us, she leaned forward, stopped, then leaned further forward until she showed us that, under the flimsy dress, she was as bare beneath the waist as she was above it. As we both looked at the nakedness of her bum I felt Kevin's knee pressing hard against mine. I'm not sure which one of us was most relieved to be in our bedroom tearing at our clothes and fucking like two teenagers less than ten minutes later.

Of course we talked about her. Of course we talked about our feelings and reactions to her, what she had done and what we had seen. I say of course for that is how Kevin and my relationship works. It is very open, more so than most of our friends. We can talk about sex as well as indulge in it. I know that he probably isn't faithful and he knows that I know that. That somehow, releases our inhibitions when speaking about other men and women and me asking if he fancies a girl or not. More to the point, it also enables us to speak about sexual diversions, swinging, threesomes, both ffm and mmf, me with another woman and him wanting to see me with both another girl and another guy, not necessarily, although I know he wouldn't resist, both at the same time! It also, somehow, brings more creativity, adventure, ambition and experimentation to our sex life.

That's why earlier this week after I, mainly, had watched 'our friend' in her sexy long johns, he had shagged me talking about her. Talking as though he was shagging her and not me 'I'm sucking one of her delicious little tits into my mouth' as he sucked on my full breasts. Talking also as if it was her fucking me and not him. "Can you imagine her tongue doing this?" as he licked my pussy. I had to admit, to myself that is not to him, openness only goes so far, that I could very easily imagine her doing that to me!

This spirit of freedom and adventure is also the reason why earlier this week I sucked him to complete fulfilment. I let him fuck my face, cum in my mouth and why I swallowed most of what he deposited in my throat. It was also that, combined with both our arousals from her overt exhibitionism, which were the prime causes of me now being laid naked on my front on our bed. Why my legs were parted, why Kevin had put two pillows under my tummy and why my bottom was stuck in the air. It was why he was now smoothing baby oil in the crease of my bum slowly massaging it into the brown, puckered skin outside and slightly inside my anus.

It was why, as I glanced up at him, I saw him smoothing more oil onto his wonderfully hard cock. And it was for those reasons, more than anything else, why he fucked me up my arse that night.

It was our last day. We were leaving the hotel around five and Kevin had arranged a late checkout, "I'll be back by the latest two thirty so please be packed and ready to go," he was saying as he got dressed while I stayed in bed, nursing my slightly sore bum and aching sphincter muscle.

The weather was forecast to be sunny, but windy. Warm enough for a last bout of sunbathing, as long as I could find somewhere out of the wind. I slipped into a pretty, pale yellow, quite brief bikini that was cut acutely across each of my boobs leaving as much as possible, without flashing my nips. Tying a long white wrap round me and putting on medium height pumps, I got my stuff together and went down to the pool.

I had remembered that there was an area in the pool which was up a level and was sheltered from the wind. As I climbed the stone steps to that area, I heard people talking and as I got to the top I saw that it was her and a few of her gang. They all looked at me as I settled myself onto one of the hugely comfortable loungers across the deck from them. She, particularly, kept glancing at me, although once more she made no sign of recognition or acknowledgement. I lay back on the bed and, although there was a quite chilly breeze it wasn't too bad, so I luxuriated in the sun warming my body. In the distance, I could hear noises from the other group, but that didn't, stop me dozing off. I guess I slept for half an hour or so, but woke with a start. Looking up, I saw that I was alone on that patio. I sat up thinking it was an ideal time for some topless work, so I slipped my bra off and laid back. It felt wonderful: there's a sort of feeling of liberation about being topless; I can see why they burned their bras in the '60s!

I guess I had been like that for no more than five minutes when I heard the sound of a lounger being moved. I instinctively lifted my bra up covering my breasts, but didn't put the straps over my shoulders or do up the clasp. I Iooked up, it was her. I looked round and realised we were the only people at the pool and my heart immediately started to pound.

She was moving her lounger into a more secluded spot out of the wind. She was wearing a thong and a very small bra, both were black, and her heeled pumps with the transparent plastic strap. She sat on her lounger with a leg over either side so they were wide open. She was also wearing big sunglasses so, although I thought she stared at me several times, I couldn't be sure. She reached into her bag and brought out her sun oil. Possibly looking at me, she slowly and deliberately undid the top and then applied the oil to her arms and shoulders, then to her upper legs, then, putting each foot in turn onto the side of the lounger, she did each lower leg. Still with her legs open and her feet on the floor on either side of the sun bed, she put the bottle down in front of her, between her thighs. I felt sure she was holding my gaze, but neither of us could be certain, as she reached behind her. Whether her eyes were staring into mine, or whether it was just our black glasses looking at each other I had no way of knowing, but neither head seemed to move at all from being directed straight at the other person.

She stayed like that with her arms behind her back, her small breasts pushed out, her legs open, her feet on the floor on either side of the lounger as she, presumably, fumbled with her strap. Slowly, frustratingly, excitingly and I am sure purposefully, she peeled the bra away from her breasts. As she exposed those to me, I think a small whimper escaped from my mouth and certainly I felt a strong surge of sexual excitement. Why?

Her black glasses seemed to be boring into mine as she picked up her bottle of oil, and poured a goodly portion into her hand and as she put the bottle down again, this time the top was almost touching her thong I noticed, thinking she was simulating being shagged! Her glasses seemed to look at me with more intensity, but as I could not see her actual eyes that may just have been my imagination. Slowly she lifted her hand level with her breast, equally slowly she opened her hand and straightened her fingers and then, possibly even more slowly, she gently rubbed the oil into the top of her left boob.

I was boiling up inside. My pulse was pounding and my clit just seemed to explode. It sent urgent signals to my nipples which burst into erect fullness and started to ache with need. My breasts started to feel so heavy, full and warm. I couldn't believe how my body was treating me, betraying me really. It was as though an orgasm was starting to build up in me. Me, having an orgasm from looking at another woman rubbing sun oil into her boobs, what the hell was happening? I began to doubt my belief that 'I'm not into women am I?'

I watched with incredulity as with one hand she massaged the oil into her breasts and with the other she removed her glasses. I could see her eyes. They were staring at me, intently. She nodded. I didn't get what she meant. She nodded again, I still didn't understand, but did I want to, dare I find out what the signal meant? Then she lifted her glasses and pointed them at me. I understood, she was asking me to take mine off. My first thought was to do so, but then a second thought was 'How can I be so in her power? Why should I do as she asked?' I had no answers, but found myself removing them. Our eyes met, she smiled, slightly, more a half grin really. I tried to smile back, but found that difficult due to the range of emotions rushing through me. She put her glasses down and poured more oil, this time into both hands.

It probably was the most erotic thing I had ever seen and 'Just what the hell is happening to me?' went through my head once more, as my temperature probably went off the scale when she cupped both of her breasts. She made absolutely no pretence of it being a rubbing the sun oil in gesture. There was no acting, no pretending and no charade. No, what she was doing was caressing herself, stroking herself, in fact, starting to masturbate herself.

And now she did actually stare at me. She did hold strong eye contact and our gazes did really linger on each other. Yes, I was staring at her every bit as intently as she was at me as she rubbed and kneaded, squeezed and stroked her breasts and then, moved on to pinching and pulling her dark nipples. Her eyes were half closed, but still looking at me, her mouth was slightly open and her tongue occasionally ran round her beautiful lips. I could see that she was breathing heavier, panting slightly, taking in deeper breaths and that her chest was pumping a little. It was an amazing sight.

She must have seen my interest and noticed my arousal, it was unavoidable. Maybe this is what we had been working up to since that evening when she was wearing those long johns and she pointed her foot at me? Had she selected me then? If so, how could she have known the effect she would make on me. If anyone had told me beforehand that I would have experienced all the excitement she had given me, I would have said they were mad, after all, women do nothing to me sexually, do they? So, if that was the case I was thinking to myself, why am I panting, why am I aroused, why are my nipples like bullets and why are the panties of my bikini probably totally soaked?

If this incredible young woman hadn't developed some sort of hold over me, why was I watching her caress her own breasts, why had I stared at her so much in the restaurant and round the pool, why had I removed my sun glasses when she indicated me to do that and why was I now watching her raising her eyebrows as she let one of her hands drop onto her bra lying beside her. It was another signal, that was clear. This time, though, the message was apparent and my response was equally predictable, well at least to her and me. Arching my back and then leaning forward I let my bra fall slowly away from my breasts. For some unfathomable reason, the look of sheer pleasure and excitement on her face as I revealed my full breasts to her was a truly amazing turn on for me. As I sat up straight, trying to make sure they didn't sag, I felt so wanted as her eyes seemed to devour my breasts. We sat there staring at each other. I watched fascinated as she continued squeezing and caressing her breasts, pinching the nipples, cupping each boob and pushing them together in the way that women do as they start to masturbate.

I suppose it was inevitable. I guess it had to happen. I suppose she had been priming me for it all the time. How she had, I had no idea. Why I was so interested and aroused, I didn't know. All I did know was that for some obtuse and unexplainable reason I wanted to please her, excite her and arouse her. Yes, I suppose I wanted to make her want me.

I saw that she had raised her eyebrows and opened her eyes wide. As I returned her intense gaze, she parted her lips and ran her tongue round them, she had a particularly full bottom lip, I noted. She ran her gaze up and down my body, returning each time to my breasts. Involuntarily I pushed my shoulders back thus pushing my boobs out. I wanted her to stare at them, admire them, like them and, I realised, want them. God, what was I thinking, but of more importance what was I now doing?

Without thinking, without even giving it a moment's consideration, I was lifting my hands. It was as if they were being controlled by another force, directed by something other than my mind. I felt helpless, it was as if I was hypnotised and had no control at all as my hands found my breasts, as they cupped the orbs, lifted them and then squeezed them. She stared even more intently at me, the smile being slightly more pronounced. She lifted her breasts, I did the same, she squeezed the flesh, I did as well, she pinched her nipples and I followed her lead. We watched each other caressing our breasts. I had never seen a woman do that before. I found it hugely exciting. Strangely, it wasn't seeing her hands on her nipples and boobs that thrilled me most, it was the look on her face. The half-closed eyes, the head tilted back a little, the tightness round her slightly opened mouth and her tongue on that voluptuous lower lip were the real turn-ons, in many ways.

But. overridingly, the biggest turn on, was her watching me caress myself. I loved the attention, the adoration, I suppose. I enjoyed, I realised, exhibiting myself to her and in a public place. It wasn't too dangerous, for we would probably hear someone if they came up the stairs, but the thought was there.

I was becoming very excited. My breasts felt so full and hot and my clit was pounding with sensation. I was losing all reasonable thought, I knew that, well one does when sexually agitated. So when she snuggled back a little, brought her feet up from the floor, laid flat on the lounger and let her hand trail down her body, I guessed what she was about to do. As her eyes bored into mine, I saw her hand slide past her slim waist, over her, almost impossibly, flat tummy and onto her mound covered by the thin material of the flimsy thong and I knew that my hand too would soon make a similar journey. Her eyes were willing me to, asking me to, directing me to and, I felt, ordering me to. She seemed to have enormous influence, power and control over me. It was to a level I could not comprehend and certainly could not combat. I felt like putty in her hands so, as she stared and nodded at me, my hand also undertook that journey.

It was a heavenly feeling to have my hand cupping my mound as my fingers pressed against my clit and lips. It was even more heavenly, in some ways, to be watching her do the same and even more so to have her watching me masturbate, something only my husband has ever witnessed. Masturbate? What the fuck was I thinking? Me masturbating, but I was, just as she was and just as we were for each other. But as unlikely as I would have thought this had anyone, even Kevin, suggested it earlier that is exactly what I was doing. And wonderfully it was exactly what she was doing as well.

Now though, she had slid inside her thong and I had followed by slipping my fingers into my panties and revelling in the warmth of my own pussy and cum juices on my fingers.

It was obviously many things it was inevitably a combination of those that pushed me over the top. But there was one thing that did more for me to reach my orgasm tipping point than all the others. That was the deep, long moan that slid from her mouth. It was so erotic, simply the sexiest sound I had ever heard. And it sent me fucking crazy. I plunged my fingers deep inside myself trying to wreak every last bit of pleasure from them via my lips and clit as wave after wave of such sensational feelings engulfed me.

Although my eyes were clamped shut most of the time, I flicked them open now and then to gaze at my gorgeously, climaxing companion. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed her mouth was open. She was squeezing one of her nice breasts and pinching the dark nipple with one hand as the fingers on the other slid in and out of her. The pouch of her thong was now pushed down and to one side a little and I could clearly see her fingers pumping in and out of her plump lips, which were now clearly on view. 'She wants me to see her,' I was thinking as I roared into the eye of the hurricane of my climax. 'She wants to show me her pussy,' I thought further as my mind seemed to explode as I realised, 'She wants me to look at her cunt,' So I opened my eyes.

We were back home and had been there a couple of days. I had left Kevin in the house as I went shopping and he was gone when I returned. I went into the main bedroom to get my gym gear, 'What the hell's that?' I thought seeing a plastic bag on the bed. I smiled as I looked closer and read the note.

You won't need to stare at an exhibitionist now will you? You can be one.

Enjoy

K

Where the hell he had got a pair of long johns just like hers from I had no idea.