I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Kylie. Okay. To start off with, I have to be honest with you. I'm not what you would call beautiful. Oh, I suppose I am all right in a pleasant sort of ordinary girl way but, my tits aren't big -- in fact they're quite small, only b-cup but reasonably perky still. My tummy is still flat which somehow emphasises my hip bones -- they tend to stick out when I am lying flat on my back. And my waist is skinny, really skinny, only 22 inches so my hip-to-waist ration makes me look as though I have a really nice figure, even though my hips and bum are not big by any means. I have a pert little 'sticky-out' arse that looks more like it belongs on a little girl than an adult woman. Oh, and I am blonde with wavy shoulder-length hair that I suppose helps me to look more attractive.
Until I met the man who is now my husband, I was a virgin. Well, as far as men were concerned, anyway. I had broken my hymen when I was ten with my hairbrush handle and that same handle had been up there more than a few times since, while my other hand found out what my clit really liked. Although I was rather shy and modest around boys, my imagination was just the opposite and I lived in a rich fantasy world in which I exposed myself obscenely to any male I fancied, causing them to be overwhelmed with passion and they would ravish me to within an inch of my life. However, the only penetration I experienced was that of my hairbrush and although I suspected that a man could do better, I was too shy to find out and hid behind sensible modest clothing that would make any mother proud of her daughter's chastity.
Then I met Andy. No, he was not a big and strong he-man although he wasn't a weakling, either. He was not tall but he was taller than me and well proportioned. He also seemed to have a permanent bulge in his pants and never having seen what a grown man really looked like, I could only imagine that he must have an erection whenever he was with me. He assured me later that this was not the case and that it was only his natural endowment. He was a sensitive and caring man and I fell for him on first meeting. In fact, it was his mother who introduced us.
We began dating regularly and frequently, going to movies and plays, dinner at cheap restaurants because neither of us had much money. Sometimes we went on picnics with his widowed mother and swim in rivers or wherever we could find water. I never failed to notice his appreciative stares when I appeared in my oh-so-proper one-piece costume but if he was aware of my surreptitious glances at his ever-present bulge, he never showed any sign. One day I took the leap and bought a bikini. A particularly brief one in a colour that I knew he liked. His eyes almost popped the first time I wore it and his mother scowled. Not long after that we stopped taking her on our picnics!
Always when he took me home, our date would end with a nice kiss on the lips and a promise to call the next day. I began to hope that he might at least try to grope me but, no. He would put his arms around me and hug me to him and his kisses were like strawberry fudge in my mouth. But not so much as a hand brushing across my tits, never aware how my panties were soaking with desire. I even went braless once and although he told me I looked wonderful, he made no attempt to touch them. Eventually I took his hand and pushed it up under my sweater firmly onto my tit. While he was still getting used to the idea that I wanted caressing, I put my hand on his thigh near his crotch where my fingertips could feel the stirrings of a real erection. This must have inspired him because, in moments, his lips were on my nipples and my hand was inside his trousers looking for a way to extract the object of all my fantasies.
One thing led to another and within short order, his hand had left my nipple and was inside my panties while I held a fully erect penis in my hand for the first time. Sooner than it would have taken to climb into the back seat, we had brought each other to orgasm, his semen spurting across the car to land on my skirt, crumpled around my waist. It was late when he delivered me home that night and no lights were showing in the windows. I told him I would have to climb through my bedroom window because the door would be locked. As I clambered up to the sill, I asked him to give me a hand which he did, putting his hand up my skirt and firmly over my bum. I could feel his fingers shuffling to find my crack as he heaved me over the sill and head-first into my bedroom. I blew him a kiss and he was gone.
Our friendship had taken a quantum leap forward and now every date became devoted to finding a secluded parking space where we proceeded to get our hands and then our mouths onto each other's genitals. We knew that we both wanted intercourse but agreed that the back seat of his car would be too sordid a place to celebrate our first fuck. So we waited until one day while his mother was at church, we went back to his house and we consummated our relationship in his bedroom. Apart from a very wet spot on his sheets, there was no other evidence of our activities. He commented on the lack of blood which he understood to be the evidence of virginity so I told him about the hairbrush and confessed to my frequent masturbation. He was astonished. He didn't even know that girls masturbated. He told me, somewhat shamefacedly that he did too and commented that his mother would probably blame that for the tell-tale stains when she came to do the household laundry.
After that, there was no turning back and we were married with our parents' blessing in a modest ceremony in a sweet little chapel. During the short period of our engagement, we fucked like rabbits in every imaginable place and at every opportunity. By our wedding night, we were as familiar with each other's bodies as we were with our own and had learned all the special ways to give each other the maximum pleasure.
I had increasingly given in to my exhibitionistic desires and wore shorter skirts, sometimes so short that I couldn't conceal my panties when I sat down. My bust line hadn't increased any but I still wore low-cut tops to reveal a lot of what there was of them. Andy appreciated the eye-candy and I think secretly enjoyed the stares that I got from other men (and sometimes women too) when we were out together. I bought a still more daring thong bikini which I would wear at the local pool and bought Andy a pair of skin-tight swim shorts that showed his cock in conspicuous relief. I loved the way other girl's eyes would descend to his crotch and laughed to myself that no matter what they felt about it, he was mine, all mine. Sometimes I would sunbath behind the house, trying to get an all-over tan by taking off my bikini. I think I always secretly hoped I would get caught by an unexpected visitor but it never happened. I wondered what our elderly neighbours would think if they knew there was a naked woman stretched out within inches of their vegetable garden but they never looked over the fence and no door-to-door salesmen ever persisted into the back yard.
We had been married a couple of years when I suggested that perhaps we should try visiting a nude beach. I think he understood my essential exhibitionism because certainly when I had been showing myself off rather more boldly than usual, I was always incredibly horny and our sex that night would be spectacular. At first he was a bit reluctant but agreed that it wouldn't hurt to try it and if we didn't like it, we could leave immediately. I had developed something of a fixation about wanting other women to see Andy's cock and hopefully for him to have an involuntary erection when he knew they were looking at him. I knew that showing myself off, even to a minor degree, was very arousing to me and I envisaged that if we were both completely naked in front of a lot of naked strangers, he would be unable to control himself.
Our first trip to Daisy Bay saw us setting off with a high level of sexual tension. I had insisted that we not take swimsuits or wear underwear on the pretext that since we would be taking everything off anyway, there was not much point. When we arrived, there were a number of couples and family groups scattered around the beach, sunbathing or swimming in the sea. We spread our towels on the sand near a party of two men and two women who seemed to be together but not obviously as couples. I stripped off my cut-offs and top and after a moment, Andy followed my lead, stepping self-consciously out of his jeans to reveal his milky white behind. I told him to lie down while I oiled his bum and when I'd finished, offered to do his front as well. He was reluctant to roll over but when I reminded him that a sunburned cock might be very uncomfortable, he complied while I rubbed the oil over his hips and finally down the length of his shaft. I stopped as I felt him stirring into hardness and retreated to my towel to oil myself. I asked him to do my back and turned onto my stomach, handing him the bottle. Somewhat sheepishly he shuffled across to me on his knees and as he worked his way down my back, I spread my legs a bit, just enough to give him (and anyone else) a clear view of my pussy lips. By the time I had persuaded him to not forget the crack of my bum and between my legs, he was ramrod stiff, which had not been missed by the girls nearby who giggled knowingly when they saw me watching for their reaction.
Nor were the men oblivious to me and I carefully arranged myself to give them an occasional glimpse between my legs, conscious of the hardening of my nipples under their unconcealed gaze. They had been lying face down but now one of them sat up revealing his decidedly interested-looking uncircumcised manhood. The pink knob at the end deepened to crimson as his erection grew and I think that only Andy behind me was unaware of my mesmerised stare. Counting his, it was only the second erection I had ever seen and my mind was already imagining what it would feel like shoved up inside me. I was enjoying the view and would have like to offer an equally unrestrained view of my own arousal. I vowed that I would be going for a full Brazilian waxing at the first opportunity. I was sure that my cunt must be seeping but it was probably concealed by my pubic hair of which, in my current opinion, I have rather too much between my legs.
