Paybacks

Paybacks, Summer-Cuts, and a Dark Rich Odor

Disclaimer: I apologize for using an outdated cultural stereotype as a means to compel one of my my characters to, um, well, you'll see.

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Shelly and I have been best friends since junior high. We were on the girl's swim team together, (backstroke for her, butterfly for me) we tried out for cheerleader together, (she made it, I didn't - my tits weren't big enough) and we discovered boys together (the Allen brothers at summer camp.) Ever since high school, we've been trying to stay in touch, maybe catch a happy hour once in a while, or go shopping on the weekend, but her job as a destination manager runs her ragged, and I don't see her nearly as often as I'd like.

The other day, when she called to see if I wanted to spend Sunday afternoon swimming with her up at the Murphy Mansion, I was thrilled. The Murphy Mansion is world renowned as Tucson's premier site for weddings and corporate events. It's a huge 12,000 square foot faux-stone monstrosity in the foothills; with a lap pool, a diving pool, a Jacuzzi and an incredible view.

When Shelly mentioned our swimming date would be clothing-optional, I could understand why. From what she'd told me about the place, the Murphy Mansion is harder to get into than Fort Knox, and there would be zero chance of us having to deal with uninvited visitors.

When I accepted her invitation, the one thing I'd forgotten about was our history in the clothing-optional department. We had sort of fallen into a pattern over the years, called 'paybacks', which really started to escalate after we graduated from high school. She'd think it was hilariously funny if she untied my bikini bottoms just as I was jumping onto the big slide at the water park, or if she pulled my tube top down while I was trying to deliver a full tray of food at the Burger Barn (on frat night!) Of course, the payback would be for me to do the same thing to her.

At first, I thought her motivation for exposing my private parts was to bolster my self-esteem. I was never very popular with the guys, and it does make a woman much more approachable if a potential suitor can walk up to her and say "hey, didn't I see your tits down at Burger Barn the other day?"

But then I realized her true motivation was the paybacks. Paybacks gave her the opportunity to 'accidentally' show off her goddess-like body in such a way that she wouldn't look like a slut going it. She was very proud of her to-die-for tits, (a symmetrical perfect marriage of a sphere and a cone, with a slight northern tilt, topped off with giant-sized chocolate-kisses nipples) and she felt compelled to share them with the world. It was her way of feeding the hungry, if you were to include hungry eyes in that category.

The trick with Shelly was figuring out the most appropriate time for the payback. If she had pulled my top down while we were walking through the mall, and the only people around were a couple of housewives and an old guy, I'd know to wait until there were some cute college dudes nearby before revealing her stunning breasts. (Shelly always had a soft spot for old guys, but not soft enough to waste her own tits on them.)

Probably the best payback was at this big important wedding reception. She was a bridesmaid, and her gown was a full-length, strapless number. To make a long story short, we both went to the wedding wearing no panties, (she's a sucker for a dare) and, as a result, she ended up naked on the dance floor. (I have good hand/eye coordination, and all her dress had was one clasp and a zipper.)

What I wasn't expecting was for her to come running after me, bare-assed naked, and catch me out on the Country Club lawn when I tripped over a stupid croquet hoop. And then, when she managed to wrangled my cheap Target dress clear up to my armpits, I wasn't expecting the whole wedding party to come trooping out to watch our bare-naked cat-fight. But it wasn't that bad, seeing as how it was dark and all. (I will admit, sprinting down to valet parking naked was a bit harrowing. but the valet was one of the Burger Barn dudes, and he was okay with me hiding behind a potted plant while he fetched my car.)

Yes, paybacks were exciting back then, but they were child's play compared to what Shelly had in store for me up at the Murphy Mansion.

I showed up around noon, and buzzed her at the gate. It swung open, and as I stared up at the fake stucco-stone walls, it occurred to me the Murphy Mansion would have fit perfectly in the Mediterranean section of Disneyland; with its turrets, towers, pennants and wrought-iron doo-dads. Tooling up the cobblestone drive was like taking a cartoon tour of Italy; the only thing missing was the fiddler on the roof.

Shelly greeted me at the massive front doors, and my heart skipped a beat. That always happens when I see her. It's not her beach-babe beauty that does it; it's the way she can turn your ordinary day into an event. Whether she does it with a well-timed smile, or an astute observation cloaked in a bimbo-ism, or a phone number for a really hot guy, it all comes straight from the heart, and I considered myself blessed to have her as a friend.

"Can you believe this place?" she asked, all wide-eyed like a kid. She gave me a big hug, stuffing her Farah Fawcett hair in my face, and then she proceeded to lead me on a tour of the Estate. I marveled at the marble floors, I stared at the stone columns, I arched my neck at the arched ceilings. Well, you get the idea. We ended up in the master bathroom, which was about the size of my apartment.

"We can leave our things here," she said, as she shimmied out of her breezy yellow sun dress. Seeing her in her bra and thong always reminded me of Playboy magazine. She could have easily been a Playmate, with her freckled cheeks and her puffy lips, not to mention her heart-shaped ass, which had broken quite a few hearts over the years. I had to look away, so she didn't think I was staring.

"How long has it been since we went skinny dipping?" I asked, as I pulled my T-shirt off.

"Christie's Pool?" Christie's pool brought back memories. We were supposed to have the place all to ourselves. but then Christie's brother, and three of his college buddies, burst out the back door onto the patio, grabbed our swim suits, and sat down in the deck chairs, waiting for us to get out of the pool. Fortunately, when the three of us made the naked dash to Christie's room, I suspect the guys were watching Shelly's amazing tits bouncing up and down, and they probably didn't even notice me.

"Yeah," I said. "I remember that. You never did tell me if you set that up on purpose."

"Would I do a thing like that?" She laughed, as she turned around so I could unhook her bra. I'd been unhooking her bra for her ever since swim team. Back then, when her bra was off and I'd catch a glimpse of her wonderful breasts, it would fill my heart with envy, and today it was no different. As I slipped my cutoffs off my scrawny butt and pulled my panties down, I started feeling more and more inadequate. It was times like this when being a plain-jane was the most painful, but it always passed. All it took was Shelly's grin.

"Getting kind of scruffy down there, aren't you." She grinned, staring at my fluffy blonde bush.

"You think?" I looked at my overgrown garden, remembering the old days, when I used to at least keep the edges trimmed for the speedo.

"Check this out." She peeled her thong off, revealing an almost-hairless mound.

"What happened?"

"Summer-cut," she said proudly.

"Doesn't it itch?"

"No. You don't shave it, you just trim it down so it's short, but there's no stubble. It feels great. Here touch it." She reached for my hand but I pulled back.

"Eww. I'm not going to touch it." I have to admit I was curious, and I really did want to touch it, but I wasn't going to let her know. That's a really good way to ruin a friendship.

"Come on," Shelly whined. "It won't bite." She took my hand firmly and guided it to her mound. "See, it's nice, isn't it?"

"It is kind of cool," I stammered, trying to hide my excitement. I'd never touched Shelly's mound before, and it was thrilling, in an innocent sort of way. I pulled my hand away, letting my fingertips flutter across her soft hair, and it gave me a chill.

"Want me to do you?" she asked, grabbing the scissors and comb off the counter. "It'll only take a minute." I wanted to say 'no', but how could I? Shelly always had this power over me, and I'd do the stupidest things, just to make her happy. I mean, is walking into an old-fashioned downtown shoe store wearing short skirts with no panties stupid, or what?

"Come on," she grinned. "Right here on the carpet." She sat down cross legged in front of me, and I did the same.

"What do I do?" I asked nervously.

"Lay back and spread 'em. Think OBGYN." She moved in so her legs were surrounding my hips, and my ankles were up around her waist. (I imagined we probably looked like two frogs, trying to screw lying down on their backs.) "Now, just relax. I won't hurt you." She placed her hands inside my thighs. I jumped at the feel of her fingers on my skin.

Now I'm not into the girl-on-girl stuff, but I am human, and I couldn't pretend it wasn't intensely erotic to be sitting together like that, all naked and opened up, our pussies exposed, our skin touching. The intimacy of the situation was incredible; the way she stroked me gently while she worked, the way her fingers flitted around, barely brushing my labia and the hood over my clit. I noticed my nipples were starting to pucker up, and hers were too.

"You know Bev," she said softly, "you're lucky you've got such a pretty pussy."

"Don't they all look alike?"

"I wish. Look at mine." She stared down at her loose, flappy lips. "I look like an old woman. It's gross. But you look great."

"Come on, Shelly. Yours is pretty. Have your boyfriends ever complained about how it looks?"

"Shut up," she giggled, and she pinched my butt playfully. I squealed, but then she placed her hand softly on my mound again, so I calmed down.

"Just lay back and close your eyes hon, it'll be over before you know it" I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was enveloped by the intoxicating smell emanating from between our legs. I'd never noticed it before, but hers had sort of a dark, richness to it, and it seemed to fill the whole room with warmth. Between that and the feeling of her delicate touch down on my mound, I couldn't help but surrender to the pangs of arousal. Suddenly I felt myself starting to lubricate, and I hoped to God my pussy wasn't dripping.

"There you go. All done." She patted my butt and I breathed a sigh of relief. Another couple of minutes of that and I would've been in big trouble. I got up unsteadily, stumbled over to the toilet and sat down. If I was dripping, I didn't want it running down my leg.

"See, that wasn't so bad," she said cheerfully. She put the scissors away and rinsed her hands. "Come on Bev, take a look in the mirror." I got up off the toilet and took a peek.

"Wow." I said, a little amazed at how much more pinkness was showing. "You can see everything now." I touched myself carefully, and it felt wonderful, all airy and clean. Shelly sidled up next to me and pulled her pussy up towards the mirror.

"See how much prettier yours is?"

"They look the same to me." I lied. Hers did look a little flamboyant, and I could see how she might have perceived it as unattractive, but I didn't. It was like trying to compare an old gnarly tree trunk to a smooth young sapling. You can't say one is prettier than the other, because they're different. But since mine was more like the smooth young sapling, it did make me feel good, knowing I had at least one part of my body that was nicer than Shelly's.

She let go of her frilly pussy and padded towards the door. I grabbed a towel and trailed along behind her, marveling at the new airy feeling surrounding my intimate parts. Unfortunately, the new airy feeling was doing nothing to quell the urge between my legs, and I was afraid I was going to have to use the towel to wipe up my drips. But then I got distracted by the majesty of the marble halls, and the flagrant excess of the 50 foot long dining table, and the golden sunbeams filtering through the stained glass, and the next thing I knew, there it was, the magnificent courtyard.

I looked out at Roman columns, Greek statues, an English Tudor bathhouse, and a California redwood trellis next to the jacuzzi. Obviously, that Murphy dude was a little confused when he designed the place. Nevertheless, it was quite impressive.

"Knock yourself out hon," Shelly said as she veered off to the kitchen. "I'm going to grab some ice tea." Then she stopped in her tracks. "Uh oh, is that one of the bathroom towels?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"We're not supposed to use those. I'll bring some from the linen closet." She snatched the towel from my hand, and I thought nothing of it, staring out at the dream-come-true scene. The sun was glittering off the crystal blue water of the lap pool, the sky was speckled with cotton candy clouds, the summer breeze was fanning the palm trees, and there wasn't a soul in sight.

I ambled over to the lap pool, dove into the shimmering water, and I was home. I love to swim, and swimming naked is the ultimate sensual experience. And now, with my new haircut, it was even more intense. The water rushing over my exposed pussy felt so good, I probably could've gotten off from that stimulation alone, but I knew Shelly would be coming back out any minute, and I really didn't want her watching while I had my orgasm.

Sure enough, she emerged from the patio doors, carrying a couple of crystal goblets, and I marveled at the way her jello tits jiggled when she walked. She sauntered over to the pool, swiveling her hips like a hollywood starlet, and I felt like we were in some kind of movie. "What do you think of this place, Bev?"

"I love it!" I shot up out of the water and held myself aloft on the edge of the deck, imagining I was the naked lady at the head of a ship, guiding the pirates through the storm.

"I've got to make a phone call," She said. "You know, business stuff. I'll be right back. Check out the view down there by the bench. It's breathtaking." She did her swivel-hip strut back inside the mansion, and I did a few laps around the pool. It felt good to stretch the muscles, and it felt great doing it naked.

Finally, curiosity got the best of me, and I hoisted myself out of the pool to go exploring. I have to admit, it felt wonderful, being naked, out in the sun, without having to worry about being leered at. The last time I was naked in the out-of-doors was at the Country Club, hiding behind bushes and cars on my way to valet parking, and that didn't feel wonderful at all.

I wandered down to the marble bench she had pointed to, and it was indeed, a breathtaking view. I sat down on the glassy-smooth stone slab, leaned back, and soaked in the sun. I could see little specks of houses, way down in the valley below. I could see a hawk circling. I could see a tiny trail of dust swirling up into the blue sky, and when I looked closer, I realized it was a couple of people on horseback. I wondered if they could see me, way up here on this bench, naked.

I opened my legs and let the sun soak into my new exposed pussy. I marveled at the beauty between my legs. I had never really thought about being pretty down there till Shelly mentioned it, and now I knew she was right.

I looked back at the house to see if the coast was clear. It was. My little bench was behind a hedge, and although I'd be able to hear Shelly coming out the back door, she wouldn't be able to see me.

I took a deep breath, and then I touched myself. It had been a while since I'd done that. A week, actually. It always felt so good when I finally succumbed to my urges, I'd think to myself, why didn't I do this yesterday? But then, after I'd do it, I'd go through the whole depression thing, wishing there was someone else there with me to share my orgasm; someone to hold me, kiss me, tell me secrets. But relationships just never seemed to work out, so finally, I just started filling up my life with busy work, so I wouldn't have time to get horny.

I spread my lips open and felt my slit. It was wet inside. I opened my legs wider, and slowly stuck my finger in, till it was buried clear down to my knuckle. I shuddered as I pulled it out. I took my wet finger and slid it up around my clit, teasing myself, trying to get ready to cum. I knew I had to work fast, but I also knew that it worked fastest when it was begging for release. I started to pant. I reached up to touch my nipple.

And then, out of the blue, I was thinking about Shelly. That happened sometimes, right before I came. I'd have this intense desire to be sucking on one of her chocolate brown nipples, or I'd be imagining it was her fingers making me cum, instead of my own. I never really worried about it before, because I knew it would never happen, but I was worried about it now. I had come so close to having an orgasm with her, up there in the bathroom. Did that mean I was gay? I closed my eyes and whispered her name. Shelly, tell me what to do. Please? I'm so close. Can I suck your nipples? Can I cum with you?

That's when I heard it; the low murmur of voices. At first I thought it was part of my fantasy, but then I heard it again, the strange sound of a foreign language. I froze, quivering, so close...

I looked over my shoulder, and although my bench was secluded from the back door, it was in full view of the patio, and there was definitely something happening on the patio. I tried to focus, and sure enough, I could make out a couple of oriental guys, talking animatedly, looking at something; probably one of Shelly's glossy brochures.

Then they saw me, and waved. Then there were more. A half a dozen in all. I blinked, thinking it must be one of those dreams where you're the only one naked. They waved again, so I pulled my hand out from between my legs and waved back, and then I thought maybe I was going to faint. How could this be happening? I'm naked, for Christ's sake. I'm masturbating. Leave me alone!

I started to shake, like I was cold, I started to sweat, I looked around for something, anything, to wear. A flower? A flag? There were these pretty colored banners flapping on flagpoles along the 10 foot-high patio wall, but I didn't feel like finding a ladder and climbing up to retrieve one. Then I remembered the towel Shelly had taken from me, saying we weren't supposed to use the ones from the bathroom. Damn her! Was this some kind of an elaborate payback?

I could hear them coming closer. I crossed my legs and folded my arms over my chest, trying to make myself small, which is not an easy task when you're five-nine. I stared at my feet, using zen to make my world contract until I was the only thing in it, but that didn't work either. Suddenly I saw black shoes all around me. I looked up, and I was surrounded. An old oriental dude with silver hair held out his hand to greet me.

"Yo Kamisa" he said, smiling. He kept his hand out, and I realized I was supposed to take it.

"My name's Beverly," I said nervously. I waited for him to turn me loose, so I could re-hide my tit behind my arm. He let go of my hand, and bowed deeply. Then he straightened up and waited. And waited. And waited.

"Scooze me missy," an older oriental lady said softly in my ear. I jumped. Where'd she come from?

"I'm sorry," she continued, in her sing-songy voice. "Oriental custom. You must bow your greeting or is horrible insult." She took my arm and tried to pull me up off the bench, but I wouldn't budge. I turned to her.

"I'm sorry missy, but here in America, is horrible insult to be naked in front of strangers." I wrestled my arm away from her, holding on to my bench for dear life.