Driving to the lake earlier today, I'd wondered how to entice Pamela to show me her boobs. Now, an hour later, she snuggled up to me on the loveseat wearing nothing but a string bikini.
I desperately wanted to get to first base with her this afternoon. Even in my lustful state, however, I was wary of two things. First, her mother could return at any minute and, more importantly, I didn't want to do anything stupid to wreck what I had going with her.
As we kissed, I gently covered her knee with my hand and ever so slowly moved it up her thigh, first caressing the top part and then the softer inside.
So far I hadn't removed even my sweatshirt. Pamela was practically naked. What would she do, I wondered, if I nonchalantly stripped down to my swimsuit? Were there rules about this? Too much too soon? Should I wait for a signal from her? Had I already missed her signal?
I hadn't a clue. All I knew was Little Phillip wanted out of his crowded closet. But like I said, I didn't want to wreck things by going too fast. My problem was I didn't know the speed limit.
I finally ran out of thigh. Holding my breath, I touched the outer edge of the bikini bottom. When she shuddered, I quickly pulled away. To my delight, she placed my hand on her pubic mound.
"I want it there."
Ever so lightly, I stroked her pubes and then moved to her belly, soft, then her little love handles. I thought of her mother's firm torso, but, like I said, I like a little meat on the bone.
She pulled me closer, then maneuvered us into a prone position on the loveseat. When I was flat on my back she straddled me. All this without once removing her tongue from my mouth.
In wrestling us to this new position, Pamela's halter ties had loosened, and now, as she propped herself up on my chest her breasts spilled out of her top. Dark nipples pierced with half-inch silver loops.
She glanced at her breasts and grinned mischievously. "You haven't told me what you think of my outfit."
I had to remind myself this wasn't a dream. I'd gotten to first base!
'You are lovely," I said, and brushed the back of my hand against each breast. I pulled on one of the loops. "This okay?"
She nodded and thrust her hips against me.
"Take off your sweatshirt. I want to feel my boobs next to your skin."
Somehow we removed the sweatshirt with her remaining on top of me.
"Oooh," she said, rubbing my chest. "Smooth. I hoped you wouldn't be furry."
"I shaved."
Her eyes widened.
"Just kidding."
She laughed and sat upright, still straddling me. Holding the silver loops she jiggled her breasts until the strings, nominally holding the two triangular cups together, unraveled completely.
"Oops!" she said, giggling.
If my cock continued throbbing like it was now I was going to burst.
As if reading my mind—or, more likely, feeling my erection pressed against her—she thrust herself against me. Once. Twice. Three times.
She stopped in the nick of time.
"I guess I'm done with this for now," she said. And with that she let go of the silver loops and shook her breasts vigorously until the halter top slipped off her shoulders.
When she brushed her breasts across my nipples I nearly exploded.
"Did it hurt to get your nipples pierced?" I asked. I needed to distract myself from my throbbing erection.
"No."
"They look sexy on you!"
"Thank you. I think they look sexy on me as well. I like how they make my nipples feel."
Our conversation was serving its purpose, getting me settled down. I was glad her answer allowed me a followup. "What do you mean?"
"They're more sensitive now. They kind of tingle when I put on a bra, the pressure of the fabric. And when my boobs sway. It's a nice turn-on. All I have to do is walk!"
I pulled the loop on the other nipple.
She smiled.
"You must work out," she said touching my pecs.
"When I have time." Lately I'd added to my workout, self-conscious of my lack of tone.
"Be right back. Gotta pee," she said. "Another beer?"
"Sure."
I sat up as she returned, her boobs jiggling every which way.
She sipped her wine while I guzzled half the beer, starting to feel a buzz. She straddled me, and since I was sitting up, her boobs pressed against my chest.
I toyed with her right breast.
"You like them?"
"I like everything about you."
"They're small."
"They're just right." I squeezed her. She squealed.
"I wish I had my mom's boobs."
"She's got a nice body, but you're the one I'm interested in."
She pressed herself against me. "What is it you're interested in?"
I placed my hands on her hips, fingered the string ties of her bikini bottom.
"Want me to take it off?" she asked.
I couldn't believe my ears! "Yes."
She gave me a wicked smile, stood and unzipped my shorts. "It's time to lose these."
I raised my hips to help her ease them off. Afterwards, she ran an index finger the length of my erection, chuckled when I groaned.
"Your trunks cover a lot of territory," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"They hide too much of you. From your belly button to your upper thighs."
She straddled me again. "On the other hand, my suit leaves very little to the imagination."
We both laughed, me a bit nervously.
"Do you shave?" she said.
"Of course—"
"No! I mean here." She touched my erection.
Did guys shave that? Suddenly I felt afraid she might tire of my naiveté. But I had to be honest. Didn't know enough to lie.
"No."
She thought for a moment. "Would you do me a favor?"
"Anything," I said.
She laughed, knowing she had me under her spell.
"Would you try on a swimsuit for me?"
At that moment I would have swabbed the deck with my tongue.
She steered us into the small bedroom with the air mattress and from a small wicker set of drawers removed a swim suit that looked too small for me.
"I'll turn around and count to ten."
At first confused, I realized she meant for me to model it.
By "
four"
I'd shed my trunks, by "
ten"
I'd squeezed into the new suit. I marveled at the ultra-thin fabric's softness and elasticity. It felt like wearing air.
Pamela made a scene of turning around and uncovering her eyes.
"Oh my gosh, Phillip," she said, hugging me.
She ran her hands over what little of my torso the suit covered, squeezed my buttocks, finally patting my cock.
"Do you like it?"
"It feels like I'm not wearing anything."
"Now you know how I feel," she said, grinning. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Actually a little naughty."
She pressed a finger against my rising erection, clearly outlined by the thin fabric, and watched it swell until it extended almost ninety degrees.
"You're getting excited!" she said.
"You have a habit of doing that to me."
She pushed me forward two steps and pointed to a full-length mirror propped in a corner.
It reflected an attractive couple, she, topless in a tiny bikini bottom, he in a black thong with pubic hair peeking over the top. They stood side by side. The girl in the mirror cupped the boy's erection while the boy teased the girl's breasts.
Her ringing cell phone interrupted this tableau. She rushed to the kitchenette to grab her phone, sounded surprised when the caller spoke.
"Oh, it's you!" she said. "Okay. Sounds good."
"Sorry about that," Pamela said opening the portable fridge. "Another beer? That was my mom. Her friend Beth saw her swimming and invited her for a drink on Beth's boat. Said we probably wouldn't mind a little—privacy." She'd paused before giving the last word the British pronunciation.
Drinks in hand I thought we'd move back to the loveseat, but Pamela pulled me toward the bow of the boat. "I need some vitamin D."
Although we were moored in the far end of the marina, the bow facing the lake, and thus away from curious passersby, I still had doubts.
Pamela noticed my concern. "Don't worry. I'll get some towels."
She returned with the towels and a double-wide yoga mat.
Pamela applied sunscreen to my back. Her fingers arousing pleasure sensations I didn't know possible until now. I returned the favor. Couldn't help lingering when I got to her bare buttocks. She made no effort to hide her interest in my erection, grinning as it twitched when my hand reached between her legs.
Laying next to Pamela I had time to reflect on my good luck: a full day off work with a sexy, near naked girl sunning herself next to me. Eventually the beer and sun put me to sleep.
Next thing I knew she was shaking my shoulder. "Time to roll over." On my back, and still groggy, she straddled my crotch. My grogginess disappeared. Hooking a thumb on either side of her bikini bottom, she pulled it out slightly.
"What color is my hair?" she asked.
