At the Gazebo

Sofia and I went back to the gazebo exactly one week later, to the hour. One of the same couples was there. So was a man sitting alone, casually, with his arms back on the rails, smoking a cigarette. He said hi in a friendly way. He was in his 30s, not bad looking, with a mane of curly hair. We greeted the others knowingly but discreetly.

The presence of the man presented a dilemma. He could have been dangerous, though he didn't seem it. He could have had a camera. He could be a voyeur (maybe even one of the ones who had seen us from a distance the week before). Or he could just be an innocent bystander out for a smoke. It made us hesitant to begin anything.

We were naturally prepared on our return visit. Both girls were wearing revealing tops. The other girl had on a clingy tank top with no bra, and Sofia was wearing a sort of wrap-around jersey with a plunging neckline that exposed a lot of cleavage. She had a demi-cup bra that lifted her breasts up, too. As we chatted I could see our guest stealing an eyeful of Sofia. We just ignored him, which emboldened him to stare. Maybe the other couple was getting jealous, but they began to make out, and sure enough, he watched them for a while. I saw his pants twitch. The sight of him ogling Sofia had already started to make me hard.

But how far would we go with him sitting there? I wrapped my right arm around Sofia's shoulder and kissed her, softly, tenderly, fondling her shoulder as I did so and slipping my fingers underneath her top to feel her bare (but bra-crossed) skin. I pushed her jersey a little off her shoulder. You could say that I had already begun to undress her. It was the shoulder nearest to our visitor. Already I was exhibiting it to him. He looked back at us.

The other couple just kissed, afraid to make a move. Fine, no moves were necessary for us to admire the girl's breasts outlined against her top. The nipple area was discernible, though the nipples were lying flat. The man just waited patiently, nonchalantly. He had finished his cigarette and flicked it away. He tipped his head back, seemingly oblivious to us. I reached around with my left hand to fondle Sophia's neck. I love the female neck, and throat, and Sophia's neck and throat were long and sensitive to the touch. Do you remember the line from Hamlet? "Paddling in your neck with his damned fingers." I paddled in Sophia's neck.

Eventually gravity, and desire, drew my fingers down to that area that is neither neck nor chest, below the collar bone. Where the line was that separated that area from the top of the breast in Sophia's full-breasted, bra-supported case, I don't know, but I knew it when I crossed it. I felt her softer, swelling female flesh. I let my fingers drift lightly down over her whole breast and land on her thigh at the bottom of her skirt. She was wearing that same sensible skirt, this time with no panties. My fingers had fallen from flesh to flesh.

Am I going to slow for you? Then you do not have the quality possessed by our visitor. He watched us out of the corner of his eye. The girl of the other couple must gave felt shy as she felt her nipples stiffening due to the sexy kisses she was getting, and she swung around and straddled her boyfriend. The tattoo at the base of her spine showed, though. What can be the purpose of a tattoo in that spot except to invite admiration while a girl is being fucked doggie style? It looked like an advertisement to me. Perhaps to our watcher, too, as I could see he had an erection in his pants. He didn't try to hide it, though I caught him adjusting his pants to make room. I guessed that he wasn't wearing underpants.

I tried that shoulder-to-thigh drift-and-drop again, and I lingered just a bit longer on the breast before falling like a man off a mountain for a soft landing on Sofia's shapely, well-muscled thigh. A third time: but this time I caught myself before falling and scrambled back up to the collar bone, only to lose my footing again, and slide with more traction across that sweet flesh and grab at the edge of her jersey, before plunging in slow motion down to her thigh, this time the clothed part, which I pretended disoriented me, and I gathered up a little of the fabric until I found flesh, which I clung to to the point of squeezing. These touches, I knew, were turning Sofia on. They weren't aggressive, but kept going a little further each time.

Our kissing friends were not so reserved. He had raised her top and was kissing her breasts, albeit almost privately. She was moving on top of him, with her pants on. Our third party just watched them, impassively.

I tipped Sofia's head back -- pulled it back, actually, by the hair -- and kissed her throat. My hand went back to her shoulder, but this time it pushed her bra-strap off it and her jersey halfway down her upper arm, exposing that area at the top and side of her breast, where a breast begins to swell. Worth a kiss, I thought, a kiss that slid down to Sofia's cleavage, and then rose again to her throat. Then I did the same thing to her other shoulder, so that a beautiful field of chest was now open, from arm to upper arm from throat to near the top of her bra. Soft moonlight was falling on that heavenly sight. Sofia couldn't watch the watcher with her head pinned back, but I could, and his eyes were wide open and following my every move. Occasionally he would check on the other couple, who weren't taking anything off as they pressed together on their bench, but he quickly returned his eyes to us.

He already understood that I had decided to give him a show. As for Sofia, I know her, because we had been watched before, though never at such close range (without a car window in between) or in such private surroundings. She is at first skittish and reluctant, then tolerant, then accepting, then oblivious, and in the end she enjoys exhibiting herself almost as much as I do. What makes her pass from one stage to the other? She builds up a trust in the watcher or watchers if he or they play their cards right, she adjusts to the situation, she feels confidence that I will protect her, but most of all, she gets physically carried away. The more turned on, the more willing to be watched: it's that simple.

I knew my kisses and touches and the slow stripping that I was carrying out were having an effect on her -- and she always liked the little act of bondage that was my holding of her hair -- but I thought it was time for something more. I had been neglecting her thighs for a couple of minutes. My hands went to one knee and ran up under her skirt, then the other. Half of her thighs were exposed when I was finished, and her skirt was a little dishevelled. I had also pushed her legs apart a little more than they had been.

You'll remember, I think, that tonight she was wearing no panties. While I was kissing her, my left hand now dove under her skirt, between her legs, and touched her where she was hottest and wettest. She hadn't expected it, she opened her eyes, I looked into them and held them on me while I lightly, just lightly, parted the lips of her sweet pussy with my finger and swirled the tip of it three quick times around her clitoris. I heard the sharp intake of breath, and then my finger was gone. I raised it to my lips and sucked off the drops of honeydew and smelled the strong perfume of a body wanting sex.

I was teasing her, but I was also casting a physical spell on her, a kind of body hypnosis that would allow her to be watched without fear. It had to be gradual, The watcher saw what I had done and he laid a hand on the bulge in his pants. The fact is that I was trying to hypnotize him too. Don't suppose, though, that I was in complete control. I felt that Sofia's body and the eyes of that watcher were compelling me to do what I did. Or rather, it was something deep inside me which compelled me.

I pulled Sofia's jersey off her arms and tugged it down to her waist. She had on her very low-cut bra with the straps more or less uselessly loose or her arms. She had beautiful breasts to begin with, but to see them held up and out by a bra designed to show them off was even more beautiful. Her rosy areolae showed above the fringy edge of the fabric, which barely concealed her nipples. Her chest was heaving. She looked directly at our voyeur, who never took his eyes from her chest. I dipped my finger a second time under her skirt and let it play a little longer, kissing her face, her ears, her neck as I did so. We were both in the grip of erotic passion now and already breathing hard.

And then the watcher suddenly unzipped his pants and out sprang his cock like a jack in the box. He immediately gripped it near the base. It looked tough as a tree root, long, strongly veined, with a shining, purple, helmeted head. The man released his hand, and it just stood straight up in the air, a good seven inches of stiff and swollen man flesh. The watcher looked proud of it, and he had every right to be. It was Sofia and my turn to look. The other couple, first the man, then the girl, also took a look. Our watcher had shown his cards, so to speak.

I wasn't surprised, but for the other couple it was too much. They whispered to each other, looked at us, and prepared to leave. It was an awkward moment for the man; his cock display had frightened them off. Sofia too was concerned, especially now that we were going to be left alone with him. I tried to reassure her (though I was a little worried myself), saying that he no doubt just wanted to watch us and masturbate. She didn't settle down at first, and huddled against me, averting her eyes from what she had just seen, though the man turned partially away from us.

I kissed Sofia deeply and moved my tongue rhythmically in and out of her mouth. I asked for hers and sucked it myself, and she did the same to mine, and we were soon lost in the sensations. I laid a strong hand on her chest and held her breast under her bra as I kissed her, and the bra slid off her nipple. I held her by the hair again and leaned in to take that nipple between my lips, and fastened on it. She couldn't help but yield to me. She relaxed, she began to make sounds, and it was time for a third trip to her still hidden pussy. This time I put one, then two fingers inside of her and stroked her clitoris with my thumb as I sucked her nipple. Now she was gone, I could feel it, now she would do anything I asked.

The truth is that it was sexier to be left alone with the voyeur. He began to masturbate. Then he stood up and took a step toward us, though Sofia was turned toward me and didn't see him. I motioned for him to stop: he stopped. He was about six feet from us: close. I could see the look of longing, almost of pain, in his face. I reached around and released Sofia's bra and tore it off her, and then I feasted on those breasts and sucked those nipples hard, and took them in my teeth, first with the incisors to nip and tug, then with my molars to chew them like an animal. Sofia saw the masturbating man, but she'd reached the stage of not caring. And perhaps she'd begun to be interested in the stout, strong cock on display before her.

She'd had enough of foreplay; now she wanted to be fucked, hard. She loves to ride (as we saw in part 1), and she can have several orgasms in succession that way. She swung a leg over mine, reached down to undo my pants, and guided me into her, all in a matter of seconds. First she rode me up and down, sinking onto me as if she were sliding down a firepole. I lifted her skirt from behind to show off my cock penetrating her again and again, spearing her, disappearing into her. Then she thrust and pressed against me, and I kept my stomach muscles tensed for her. She rubbed her whole pussy up against me and pumped against me till she came. She growled, she grunted, she gave a long ecstatic cry of release. Being teased while being watched had driven her as wild as I'd ever seen her.

She didn't stop there, and I held on without coming, the better to give her as many orgasms as she wanted. She knew how to get them by maintaining the pressure on her whole pubic area. I began to help out with a little anal play under her skirt. I raised her skirt with one hand while inserting a finger with the other so the watcher could see what I was doing. Instant orgasm for Sofia. The man began to make pre-orgasmic sounds himself. The thought occurred to me that I should just let him take Sofia in the ass while I was buried in her cunt. I didn't think Sofia would approve of that, though. That called for a spanking. Keeping her skirt raised, I gave each cheek several good hard smacks. I know what Sofia likes, and she likes to be spanked. She moved against me with quick urgent thrusts until she came again. She knows how to ride a wave, and she can surf from orgasm to orgasm when she's really turned on.

I needed a change of position. I told Sofia to turn around on me. With a little leg lifting (and a momentary exit and re-entry), she did it. Now she was sitting in my lap facing the masturbating man. I had her breasts in my hands and I lifted them up to show them off, pulling at her nipples to stiffen them. When Sofia gets turned on, she likes her nipples to be treated roughly. I pinched, I pulled, I stroked those nipples, first with both hands, then with just one so that I could devote the other to her pussy. First I lightly teased her clitoris, slithering all around it. It was poking out asking to be stroked, a perfect pearl of tender, beady flesh. I took the top of Sofia's pubic hair in my hand and pulled it up to show her off. I could just catch a glimpse of her swollen clitoris glistening in the moonlight. Sofia arched her back, leaning back against me, kissing me deeply, displaying her whole beautiful body for the man, who was positioned directly in front of us. His eyes were glaring like a hawk's, and his look of longing had turned to something fiercer.

I passed my arms under Sofia's and held her head and made her look at the man. He understood that it was now he who was on display. He stroked himself slowly and deliberately, he turned to show himself in profile, he gripped himself with thumb and forefinger at the base of his rod like a cockring to bring himself to maximum stiffness, and the head of his cock swelled up like a cobra's. He came a little closer to us. He extended his free left hand, slowly, like a ghost. Sofia's arms were locked behind mine. Her breasts were undefended. I let the man keep reaching, in slow motion. Sofia squirmed.

His hand kept coming until he touched first one, then the other breast, gently, tentatively, so as not to break the spell. Sofia's chest was rising and falling in fear and excitement and she gave a little cry of protest. We had often fantasized about one of the watchers in our lover's-lane displays reaching his hand through a window, but when it almost happened once we had retreated and I had slapped the man's hand on the wrist as he reached through the narrow opening we had left him at the top of the window for better viewing. Now contact had been made, with no barrier at all. Sofia let it happen; I knew she secretly wanted it to happen.

When the man saw that we were going to let him touch Sofia, his hand became greedier, and he rubbed and pressed Sofia's full breasts with uninhibited desire. He too took a nipple between his fingers, and watching him do it was so sexy to me that I almost lost control. Then Sofia suddenly freed an arm and just when I thought she was going to grab the man's hand, she reached for something else. And why not? She had been watching it intently, and it was such a magnificent piece of manhood, what woman wouldn't want to wrap her fingers around it? Which is what she did; and started stroking. The man dropped his own hand and let Sofia masturbate him. His other hand was holding onto one breast and squeezing the nipple. Now I couldn't hold out any longer, and I exploded inside Sofia with cries and twitching movements of my own. Sofia's triggers are set for that moment, and she usually comes at the same time. I hadn't given her enough warning this time, though. I could feel she wanted to come again.

There was only one thing for it. I reached in my pants for my wallet and the condom in the inner pocket. I handed it to the man. Sofia gasped and struggled a little, but I caught her arm again and held her and reassured her. I slipped out of her, and in a flash the man bent at the knees, grabbed the railing, and slid into her, and in a few hard strokes both he and Sofia were climaxing together. They both cried out. I felt Sofia's body shudder and shake, and at the same time I watched the man's face contort with the sharp ache of a slowly built up orgasm. The man looked lost, dazed. When he came to his senses, he withdrew. Sofia's body went limp in my arms. She was trembling. The man returned to his seat and leaned back, with his head resting on the rail, his cock still out, but now swinging to the side with a condom on it. I could see his thick load of cum collected at the tip.

Sofia moved to sit beside me and I held her close. I whispered to her how sexy she had been, and that she was the sexiest girl I had ever known (true). After a while the man left, giving us a wide smile and the thumbs-up sign before he disappeared up the path.

What had happened was so sexy that thinking about it, and being alone with Sofia in the moonlight, and looking at her breasts and imagining that man fondling them, and her stroking his cock, I became hard again. There was only one thing for it. I turned her over, she grabbed a rail, and I took her from behind. I held nothing back. I pounded her fiercely, and this time we both could feel the sensations building, and we both had one last loud tumultuous orgasm together. And that was the sexiest night of my life (one of them, anyway).