Alicia, once again here, continuing from Part 5, this time with my husband's full blessing.
***
Bob and three others were waiting for me as I emerged from the guesthouse. One other guy, Terry, and two girls, Betsy and Kate.
As we walk along the shore it's obvious that Terry and Betsy are into each other. They are walking ahead and I catch myself looking at Terry's butt -- he's wearing shorts. I wonder what he looks like without his shorts. God I am in a nasty mood.
Betsy is short but has a nice figure. She swings her hips freely in a way I could never do. No matter how hard I try I am a prim and proper British girl, at heart.
As we reach a good picnic area I marvel at how empty this portion of the beach is -- we have it more or less to ourselves with just the occasional hiker or jogger passing by. The waves lap the shore quietly and there's a gentle breeze.
We lay out our towels and then Bob breaks out some weed. We all lay back and smoke it; soon my head is spinning and I feel super relaxed. Dope has that affect on me.
As he strips off his shirt I marvel at his muscled, hairy torso. Bob has the reputation of a womanizer but he has always treated me respectfully. Is it because I am married? Or because I am not sexy enough? I often get paranoid when I am stoned.
The weed is having quite an effect on the others too. Betsy pulls off her shirt and lies back topless. God, she has breasts to die for -- perfectly proportioned for her small body, her nipples standing at attention, and (no doubt) craving Terry's touch.
Terry stands up, strips off his shorts, yells a war whoop and runs into the surf. I see he is well hung and definitely has a cute butt. Betsy is up and after him forthright.
As they bounce around in the surf, laughing and crashing into one another, Kate gets up and moves down the beach a ways, next to a large log that prevents me from seeing her clearly. But I think I see her pull her shirt over her head before she lies down on her back.
I haven't described Kate yet -- she is a tall, willowy blond, the kind men die for. She's also a bit remote, hard to read. She seems pretty much on her own planet, not very accessible but also good-hearted in her work commitments. I bet her breasts are amazing, and it surprises me that I am feeling competitive with Betsy and Kate. It definitely must be the dope.
Bob and me are alone for now. I feel his eyes on my body as I lie back and try to think what I want to do next. I know I want him to find me sexy; I feel devilishly playful. I think I'd like to somehow innocently make him get a hard-on for me.
What comes to my mind is a conversation I had with Davey the other night after a few drinks. We were lying in our living room, the lights low, the curtains open and he was reaching under my shirt, caressing my breasts. I love it when he does that.
A tingling had started between my legs as he spoke quietly; I felt his warm breath on my ear.
"Ali, does this feel good?"
"Yes."
"What feels good?"
"Your hands on my bare naked tits, you dope."
"Tell me other things -- tell me some fantasies you have."
"What kind of fantasies?"
"Sexual. Are you an exhibitionist sometimes."
I just reached over and squeezed his arm. This was one of our agreed-upon ways for me to indicate that my answer was "yes" without having to say the word. I liked maintaining this small layer of modesty and the ambiguity it afforded me. Plus I don't know if I am a real exhibitionist yet.
"Would you like other men to see your breasts sometimes?"
I squeezed his arm.
"Strangers."
I squeezed again.
He didn't say anything for a while but now he was fumbling with the snap on my shorts, unzipping them, lifting me up and sliding them down my legs. Now I was naked from the waist down and the Asian nurse across the street, I knew from the way his urgency conveyed, was probably observing everything we were doing.
"What about women, would you like them to see you naked?"
"Maybe," I replied.
"Okay, how about friends."
"I don't know," I faltered.
"What if you could arrange to be accidentally by a friend you found attractive?"
"Maybe," I said tentatively.
"What about that guy Bob, who -- don't contradict me -- I know you find attractive, and who you're going to spend next weekend with?"
I kind of shuddered and didn't reply.
"Okay, what if I said it is fine with me for you to have this fantasy -- that I want you to have it? Alicia, I want you to tell me you want Bob to see your naked breasts, and you want to figure out a way to make it seem accidental."
"Okay," I breathed, squeezing his arm. "I would like that to happen, D."
There was silence for a while as he lifted my T-shirt up to my neck and exposed my bare breasts, nipples hardened, to our neighbor, maybe others, I didn't know. I kept my eyes shut and just went with the feelings suggested by this fantasy, which were delicious.
Davey started caressing my pussy lips, then my clit. Now I had become seriously wet and I started feeling the early waves of what would hopefully be a giant orgasm forming.
"I know Bob is a big hiker, and outdoors guy, and that he loves women. Everyone knows that, right?"
I said yes.
"Maybe you can find a way to flash him."
I squeezed his arm. His masturbating was starting to accelerate. I raised my hips to greet his insistent fingers. My pussy swelled.
"How would it feel for Bob to see your tits?"
"Go-o-od."
With this he suddenly turned me over and spanked my bare bum. I cried out.
"Good girl," he said, "That is a good answer. But you are a very bad girl aren't you?"