Dirty Talk 4

Author's Note

All characters appearing in this work are over the age of 18 and are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Earlier Today...

This is a continuation of my previous story:

Ingenious Toys

. Briefly, this is what has happened so far:

Mr Gallows, headmaster of my boarding school and also my secret boyfriend, turns out to be a mad inventor of sex toys. He modified a pair of vaginal plugs with radio controllers so that they turn on and off together. Rupali and I (Rupali is my sexy room-mate and secret girlfriend; she named the plugs Ike and Mike) wore them this morning on a shopping trip and – to cut a long story short – she conspired to have me alone in a store dressing room with Spike the hot shop assistant trying to free me from a faulty knotted bikini while she switched on the vibrator remotely, bringing me to an embarrassing but silent orgasm in Spike's arms. I forgave her; aren't I a great friend?

Although we were planning to take the bus to Bondi Beach, Spike has offered to drive us to Coogee in his Kombi van. Rupali and I agreed immediately and spent lunchtime working out how to lure Spike into a three-way.

The 'Kombi' of course was a VW Transporter, but not one of the 1960's chartreuse microbuses you might be imagining. The only similarity that it bore to one of those countless hippie/surfer vans circling the country was an airbrush mural on the side; a surfer shooting through a pipeline and running his fingers through the wall of water that threatened to crash down on top of him. Far from being a "fried out Kombi" like in the

Men At Work

song, this one was a current model van with leather seats, air conditioning, and about a dozen surfboards of all shapes and sizes in the back.

I saw that it had only one set of doors and as soon as I worked out that there was no back seat, I called "middle" so that I could sit next to Spike ... only to discover that the driver had a separate bucket seat and the twin passenger seat was on the other side of the handbrake. My sexy visions of squashing up against his leg and having his elbow brush my breast every time he changed gear were dashed.

Oblivious of my little competitive streak, Rupali had other ideas; she was stage managing this whole affair to culminate in a three-way; and to that end she cuddled up close to me in an effort to establish our girl-on-girl credentials. Sitting so that our legs touched, she unsuccessfully tried to close the split up the leg of her sarong and then, giving up, she placed a slim brown hand on my knee. I saw a momentary flick of Spike's head and knew that he was watching in his peripheral vision, so I parted my legs a few inches and smiled as Rupali's fingers predictably slithered into the gap. As Spike turned a corner, she slid it further up – bringing my dress along for the ride – and began stroking my inner thigh in a circular motion with the tip of her middle finger, the sexy look of her long, curved, pink nails between my legs giving me a little shiver.

Spike wasn't watching us directly but he

was

shifting in his seat and adjusting his board shorts a fair bit, so I was pretty sure he knew exactly where Rupali's hand was and he had also probably figured out where it was headed. When we stopped at a traffic light and Spike was in no danger of crashing the van, I took a big deep breath, puffing out my breasts and then released it again with just a touch of a moan, opening my legs a little wider at the same time. Rupali's hand worked to the top of my thigh, hiking up my dress even further until her little finger made contact with my crotch, then she flicked it back and forth over my bikini bottom, titillating my pussy lips.

It was all for show, of course, and not really getting me hot ... well, not

very

hot ... but I loved the effect it was having on Spike as he missed the light turning green and was honked by the car behind. I turned to Rupali as he got the Kombi under way again and gave her a "cool it" look, so she moved her hand back down to my knee but left the dress pulled up to my crotch so that Spike would have something to look at if he decided to sneak a peek. I don't know whether he did or not, but I didn't catch him.

We found a good park right near the beach and hopped out into the searing Sydney heat while Spike spent a few extra seconds in the privacy outside the driver's door adjusting his erection before grabbing his towel and a bag from the back.

"Are you surfing," I asked.

"No, the surf's rubbish today," he complained. "It's too still. I might get a board out later, but if you girls want company ...?"

"What do you think, Belinda?" Rupali asked, winking at me. "He's pretty cute. Will you get mad if I'm flirting with him instead of you?"

"But you'll still flirt with me a bit, right," I pouted.

"Of course sweetie," she leaned down and kissed me on the lips.

"And I can flirt with him, too?" I asked.

"Sure sweetie," she reassured me. "Just keep a lid on it; he's already seen you naked and I don't want him thinking you're easy."

"OK, then," I smiled.

Poor Spike, he was following us back and forth like a tennis match; his eyes getting wider with each exchange.

Rupali turned to him. "Good news, Spike: you've got two hotties competing for your attention today."

We each took an arm and walked him down to the beach. I pulled the arm I was holding and pressed it to my breast; this was going to be a good day.

We found a patch of sand to ourselves and Rupali immediately dropped her beach bag, peeled off her sarong and ran for the water, calling back "Last one in is rubbing Reef Oil into me when we get out." Spike pulled his singlet over his head, revealing a lean waist that was tanned and muscled to match his chest and arms. He looked at me, wondering whether he should conspire to be last in the water.

"Go on," I told him. "I need to screen up or I'll be a lobster in ten minutes flat." At times like these I envied Rupali's brown skin; my milky complexion required SPF30+ even in winter sunshine. I watched Spike ran after Rupali and then screened my face, shoulders, arms, and the tops of my breasts; the rest could wait until I got out of the water.

I ran down the beach and found them just out beyond the breaking waves, bobbing with each swell as it passed. The tide was in and it got deep quickly; I was still several metres away from them when I got out of my depth and had to swim, ducking under the waves as they broke over me. When I got out to them I couldn't touch the bottom at all; Spike was up to his neck, but at 6'1" the water came only just past the top of Rupali's pink bikini. With each trough that preceded a wave, her full breasts bobbed tantalizingly on top of the water.

"Are we going to stay out this deep?" I asked. "Cos I'll last about two more minutes treading water and getting dunked by the swells."

Spike looked concerned. "If we go closer in we'll be under the break," he said. "I can take it, but I don't think Rupali's bikini top can." He smiled. "Just so we're clear, I'm all in favour of moving closer in."

"That's OK," I said, reaching up and holding Rupali's shoulder. "You'll hold me up, won't you babe? Duck down so I don't have to reach, will you."

"I don't want your drowning corpse taking me down too. Hold onto Spike; he's getting flirty and needs a distraction."

I paddled over to Spike and put one hand on the slope of his muscular shoulder. "OK?" I asked.

"Very OK," he said, and I felt a warm tingle even through the cold water.

As the next swell passed through, Spike had to jump to stay above it. I pushed down on his shoulder to keep my head above water and ended up pushing him back under. He came back up spluttering but laughing. "Don't worry," I smiled. "I didn't get dunked."

"What a relief," he said ironically, spitting out water. "How about you hold on a bit tighter so that when I jump, you come with me?"

That sounded like an invitation; I didn't need a second one. I pulled in close and clung to him like a baby on her mother's hip; my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. I was slightly front-on with a breast either side of his pectoral muscle and my vagina settled onto the point of his hip bone. Happy, happy girl. I smiled at him, our faces now just a few inches apart.

I looked over at Rupali. She was still smiling – not jealous – all was going to plan as far as she was concerned. "Missing me?" I asked.

"On the contrary," she said, walking over to us. "Now whenever I want you I have you right here." She leaned in placed a hand on Spike's chest as she kissed me, passionately and open mouthed. "You don't mind, do you Spike?"

He shook his head. "All good."

"Excellent!" said Rupali, planting a short, sweet kiss on Spike's lips.

He looked at me, confused and wondering what sort of jealous fight he might have got in the middle of. I leaned in and gave him a little kiss too. "Just roll with it, Spike." Another swell was right on top of us. "Wave!" I said, giving Spike a squeeze.

He jumped a bit late but kept our heads above water, his hip grinding painfully into my labia. I had to wriggle against him to open up my pussy under my bikini so that my entrance settled on his hip rather than my labia. Comfortable again, I looked back at his face, but he had his eyes closed and was taking a deep breath. Poor Spike. I gave him a cuddle to make him feel better.

We stayed out for nearly two hours, playing, splashing and chatting. Rupali wanted to go and lie in the sun and if I wasn't there she was going to oil that long gorgeous body on her own. I gave Spike another little kiss and hopped off his hip. "You coming in?"

"Soon," he said. "I'm going to body-surf a few waves."

And maybe wait for that that bludgeon in your shorts to go down,

I thought.

Back on the beach, Rupali towelled her long hair dry while I watched Spike expertly swim onto the crest of a small wave and ride it into the shallows. "Did I overdo it?" I asked.

"No, you were perfect sweetie. God, you were so hot and vulnerable

I

wanted to fuck you."

"You say the sweetest things, babe."

"My turn though," she said, throwing me her SPF0 Reef Oil. "When you see him coming in, start oiling me and see if you can get him to take over."

She twisted her long hair and tied it in a knot on her head, then lay face down on her towel. A couple of waves later Spike came running out of the surf, so I poured some Reef Oil onto Rupali's shoulders and started rubbing it in. "How can you stand this stuff?" I asked. "You know there's no UV protection, right? Why don't you just baste yourself in butter and climb into an oven?"

"A billion Indians with no skin cancer say you're wrong – I've got genetics on my side."

I started massaging the oil into her shoulders as Spike came up to us and towelled his hard, tanned body dry. I looked up at him and put a finger to my lips, telling him to be quiet, and then beckoned him over beside me. I squirted more oil on Rupali's back below the strap of her bikini, and then I took Spike's wrists and brought them down to Rupali's back. He looked at me questioningly:

should I?

I nodded encouragement so he leaned over and experimentally spread the oil with his fingertips.

With her face in the towel, Rupali said "Rub it properly, Belinda, otherwise I'll sack you and appoint Spike chief masseur when he comes in." Emboldened, Spike started spreading the oil slowly with both palms. I silently moved out of his way and began applying sunscreen – real sunscreen - to my own body. It wasn't an onerous task; at 4'11'' and three-quarters and weighing in at around 40 kilos (88 lbs), there's not much of me to cover so I'm pretty cheap to keep in sunscreen. Spike kneeled closer, applying pressure and earning a low moan from Rupali.

"Mmmm. That's nice, sweetie. Unhook my top and get under the strap, will you?"

He undid the clasp and laid the ends of the straps out to the side. Rupali's breasts were pressed into the towel and now bulged out either side of her chest. Spike massaged up and down her long back, working the oil into her skin, which was now glistening and smelling sweetly of coconut. He had his thumbs facing together over her spine with fingers splayed out wide; they curled around her narrow waist but on each upward stroke he pulled them in, not quite daring to touch the sides of her breasts.

"Oooooh babe," she moaned. "You have magic hands. There are still some dry patches. Make sure you get everywhere."

Spike put more oil on his hands and shaped them around Rupali's waist. He stroked upwards over her ribs and the side-swells of her breasts, all the way to her armpits and then back down again, lingering at her breasts and moving his fingers in circles, feeling the pliant firmness of her flesh.

Rupali moaned in fresh encouragement. "Ooo you dirty girl, Belinda!" Spike quickly moved his hand away and Rupali complained: "Oh, you tease! Go back." Spike brought both hands back up to her breasts and slowly massaged the sides, his fingers slipping into the gap underneath to stroke the undersides. Rupali was purring with delight and encouraging him on. She rolled her back slightly towards him, raising one breast a little higher to improve his access, just enough to expose the edge of a brown nipple. Spike rubbed oil over the exposed flesh, lingering and cupping the underside, brushing a finger over the edge of the nipple. Rupali moaned and arched her back under his touch, encouraging him to explore further. Spike pressed more firmly , lifting the nipple off the towel and allowing him to run his fingertips over its full surface. Rupali shivered and the point stiffened under his touch; circling, stroking, gently pinching and squeezing.

Spike moved his hands to Rupali's lower back, rubbing and kneading and sliding his thumb tips beneath the top edge of her bikini bottom. "Fold it down a little if you like, Blinny," she said. Spike hooked his fingers under the fabric and folded it back, revealing a few of inches of bottom cleavage. Rupali's narrow, high-cut briefs were now narrow and

very

low cut. Spike applied more oil and reversed the direction of his massage from bottom-up to top-down, thumbs pointing inwards and fingers forwards, he stroked firmly from the middle of Ruapli's back down to her bottom, fingers disappearing to the third knuckle into her very truncated bikini briefs. He held his hands there, cupping her buttocks and spreading oil over them, fingertips exploring the edges of the cleft in between.

Rupali's breathing began to speed up. "That's wonderful, sweetie. More of that."

Spike rubbed back up her back, lingering around her breasts, again sliding the tips of his middle fingers into the hollows and teasing the sensitive undersides, then in one fluid movement he swept downwards, his hard hands ploughing through her flesh, over the tops of her buttocks and deep beneath her bikini bottom, thumbs drawing her cheeks apart and index finders diving into the void, barely an inch or so from her moist centre. She arched her bottom up into his hands, moaning "Oh, yes. Please ... a little more."

This was getting a bit heavy for a public beach, so I got Spike's attention and gestured to her long, shapely legs; suggesting that he would be remiss not to explore their lean curves. I was feeling a bit breathless watching them, and if he didn't rub her legs then I would.

He moved around closer to her calves and adjusted what looked like a very uncomfortable erection. Using more oil he massaged each leg in turn starting at the ankle and working upwards, pressing his thumbs into her hard calves, passing gently over the sensitive backs of her knees, and closing his strong hands around her lower thighs. When both legs were glistening with oil from mid-thigh down, he wrapped his hands around the closest calf and slowly worked upwards, kneading the backs of her legs with his thumbs but keeping the fingertips wrapped all the way around to the towel. Her thighs were touching just above the knee but instead of stopping when he reached that junction, he gently pressed upwards signalling his intention and Rupali's thighs parted like the petals of an exotic flower.

I could see the hot pink fabric of her bikini tapering down her bottom to a sheer two-inch strip as it dived between her open legs, barely covering her sex. It moulded over the curves of her labia and dimpled in the middle where her entrance sat wantonly open, wishing for something to plunge into the hot, silky depths within.

Rupali was panting now, her breasts swelling and heaving beneath her. She tilted her bottom upwards, changing the angle of her vagina so that it was directly in the path of Spike's approaching hands. Slowly he kneaded the long muscle of her thigh, each contraction of his hands bringing his fingers an inch closer to the tiny strip of pink fabric, the only barrier between his searching digits and the warmth and wetness that awaited them. His final stroke brought his thumbs to the edge of her bikini on the back of her thigh, the index finger of the hand between her legs almost brushing the thin covering protecting her womanhood. And there they stopped.

Rupali moaned in frustration between gasps of passion as she pumped her hips, trying to encourage his fingers to complete their journey. "Please, sweetie. Please," she begged. Spike looked over at me, his eyes feverish with passion, asking my permission to go further. I motioned for him to wait, but not to stop. I moved opposite to him and leaned close so that I could talk to Rupali in a low voice that only she and Spike could hear.

"Rupali, you don't really want me to rub your pussy, do you?"

"Yes, I do. Please," she moaned.

"Well I'm sorry, it's too late," I said in a sexy, husky voice. "Spike is coming up from the beach now; he's going to interrupt us."

"Oh no!" she sounded disappointed.

"Oh, you should see him, Rupali," I went on in the sexy voice. "The water is beading on his muscles and his shorts are soaking wet and clinging to his skin. I can see the contours of his cock, it looks hard; I think it's hard for you Rupali. He's looking between your open legs and – oh my goodness – there's a split in your bikini! He can see right through it to your pussy! I can see it too, you dirty girl! It's open and it's wet and I think Spike wants it – I know I do – I can see it in his eyes."

I could hear Rupali's rapid breathing and every few breaths she vocalised a moan as the heat and tension built up inside her. Spike was looking at me wide eyed; the fact that his fingers were just a heartbeat from Rupali's wet entrance momentarily forgotten as he listened to me talking dirty.

"Oh my God, Rupali, he's pulling down his shorts. Oh holy ... his cock is ... oh it's ... Jesus ... it's beautiful, it's perfect. He's still looking at you – so open and so ready – and now he's kneeling down between your legs. He's stroking that perfect cock, pumping it, imagining how it will feel sliding deep inside you, pumping you until you come, ramming it all the way home until you beg him to stop."

"His cock is poised now," I continued. "It's just outside your hot, wet entrance. But Spike doesn't look sure any more; he doesn't know whether you want it."

"I do! I do want it," she affirmed.

"He doesn't understand, Rupali," I said. "What do you want? What do you want him to do you?"

"I want his cock inside me. I want him to slide it all the way in. I want him to fuck me. I want him to pump me full of cum," she said, her voice breaking and hitching with emotion. "God, make him do it, Belinda. Make him fuck me. Grab his cock and put it in me."

"I think he's going to. Hang on, I'll see if he's ready. Oh Christ, I'm wrapping my hand around it and I can't touch my thumb. It's the hardest thing I've ever felt, it's like iron. It's so hot too; I can feel the heat baking into my hand. Now I'm bringing the tip of it to your pussy." I nodded at Spike. "Can you feel me putting it into your pussy?" Spike lifted his finger and touched it against the dimple outlining Rupali's open labia. He pressed in gently against the pink fabric and moved his finger in circles sliding the lining against her lubricating juices.