Playing Away Pt 01

Part 1 -- This is the first part of a new series of stories, which follows the adventures of Jim and Tishy of the Primal Instinct series. You may wish to read Primal Instinct first. Or not. Everyone involved is of legal age. Comments welcome.

*****

The next weekend we went off on holiday. We'd booked ourselves a small cottage in our favourite little fishing village on the Yorkshire coast. Not just for the fresh air and scenery but for the freedom -- nobody knew us in England, so we could be, well - a little more relaxed and carefree than at home.

After her recent adventures with Andrew and Euan, Tishy was looking more confident than she had for a long time. She always knew that guys wanted to get into her knickers, but now she also knew that I'd let her have as much dick as she wanted. She was simply oozing sensuality -- everything she said turned to sex.

For my part, I was just happy to let her have it -- watching a boy's stiff prick sliding between her sweet wet lips was just the sexiest turn-on, and I didn't want it to stop. If you think that's perverted -- well perhaps it is, but that's how it was. I was very proud of her -- she was my beautiful posh english wife, she had great knockers, and she loved a big hard dick. What more could a man want?

The cottage was a little outside the village, down a short lane, nice and private. It was very small, but quaint -- and the sound of the sea and the gulls was just what we needed. Tishy bounced up and down on the big comfy bed, her lovely knockers dancing inside her blouse in their own inimitable way. I tried to figure out when she'd taken her bra off -- I was sure she was wearing one in the car on the way down.

"Well, sweetheart, we'll sleep well here," she said.

"Not if you keep bouncing around like that -- you're getting me all excited," I replied, and stroked the hard bulge in my pants to demonstrate. Taking hold of her shoulders, I knelt astride her on the bed, and kissed her.

I wasn't surprised at the warmth of her response. "And I'm not the only one that's excited," I went on, running my hands over her blouse, grazing her hard nipples. She slipped her hand between my legs, feeling up my erection.

"Mmmm," she said, "Nice -- I love your dick." And then, as if to change the subject, "But let's go for a swim -- it seems a shame to waste the nice weather." I got off her and she stood up, smoothed down her skirt, then went into the small shower room to powder her nose, and put on her swimsuit.

She emerged in a loose tee shirt and short wraparound skirt. She gave me a twirl, and I could see she had underneath it her red one-piece. Her hair was done up in a bun -- she really did mean to go swimming!

Outside, it was warm and sunny, but quite windy. The outlook for the rest of the week was rather mixed, so it made sense to take advantage of the sunshine while it lasted. We made our way through the village, down to the beach. Finding that the tide was out, we scrambled over the rocks at the foot of the cliffs round to our 'secret' cove.

Of course it wasn't really secret at all, but it was sheltered, and screened from the village. As it was already early evening, the beach was empty, apart from some boys splashing in the sea at the far end, near the cliffs.

"Perfect," she said, and we sat down on the pebbles.

The sea looked rather cold, with big grey breakers crashing onto the rocks. "You're not going to swim in that, are you?" I said. By answer she pulled her tee over her head, stood up, and undid the wraparound, letting it fall to the ground.

Standing over me, legs spread, she gave me her wicked smile. Reaching down to take my hand, I got an eyeful of her cleavage in the low cut swimsuit. "Come on," she cried, "Last one in the water is a sissy."

I quickly dropped my pants, and pulled my shirt over my head -- I hadn't brought swimming trunks, but boxers would do. By the time I was undressed, she was halfway to the sea, picking her way over the pebbles.

The water was indeed freezing cold. I waded in, dreading the moment when the cold water hit my crotch. She was still ahead of me, already up to her neck. My wife was fearless like that -- she liked to plunge straight in.

When I got to her, I slid my hands around her waist under the water. "It is bloody cold," she said, laughing but breathless. She kicked away and swam on her back for a while.

But swimming didn't help warm us up, so we soon crawled out and sat on the sandy strip by the water, in what was left of the sun, the waves crashing up and wetting our feet. The red swimsuit was not exactly see-through, but her nipples were like little pebbles, and when she spread her legs on the sand her swollen pussy lips were clearly visible.

Reading my mind, or perhaps following my eyes, she reached over and ran her hand the length of my swollen dick through the wet boxers. "You are amazing," she said -- "Even in this cold, you can still get a stiffy." I reached across and kissed her full on the lips, fondling her breast and teasing the nipple.

Emerging from our grope, I saw that the boys in the sea were rather closer than they had been. I wondered how much they could see. Then I thought I saw one of them laugh and point. Tishy noticed too, got to her feet, and waved. The boy disappeared under the water.

We turned back and stumbled up the beach. Her bum had a patch of sand on each cheek -- she bent forwards, and I brushed it off as best I could. The place we'd left our clothes was now in shadow, and quite cold. "We should get dry before we freeze to death," I said. "Get your wet swimsuit off."

She pulled the straps off her shoulders, and the top down to her waist. I couldn't help noticing that she was facing the water, so the boys got a full view of her magnificent knockers, glistening wet from the sea, and covered in goose bumps, happy to be free from the confines of the suit. "Quick, hand me the towel," she said.

She dried herself off, not worrying if from time to time she gave the boys another eyeful. She then pulled her dry tee shirt over her head, and stood up. The shirt was quite long, like a very short dress. She reached under it and peeled the wet clingy swimsuit down, not caring who saw what.

Then she sat down again, to dry her long legs. I noticed that one of the boys was now quite close, standing in the shallows. The bulge in his tight speedos was plain to see -- he was a big lad. I wasn't the only one who could get a boner in cold seawater.

"Come on," she said, "Get 'em off, or you'll catch your death." Still sitting, I pulled down my boxers, and my swollen dick flopped out. "Here," she said, "Dry yourself," and handed me the damp towel. Then she looked out to sea, at the boy.

"Did you see that?" she exclaimed, pointing -- "I have an admirer -- already!" And she laughed. I looked across at her, pulling on my trousers, and she was sitting leaning back with her legs spread, and the tee shirt bunched up around her hips. He had a perfect view of her pussy.

"Come on," she said, "Hurry up," and stood up to pull me to my feet. "Where's my skirt?" I looked out to sea, and the boy had gone, swimming back to his mates. By the time I'd turned back to face her, she was already dressed.

Even with my shirt back on it was chilly in the shade, but once we got onto the rocks, making our way around the headland, we were in sunshine again, and soon warmed up.

Going home through the village, Tishy got quite a bit of attention -- one old man sitting outside the pub followed her with his eyes all the way up the main street. Hardly surprising really -- her big heavy tits swinging free, stiff nipples poking through the shirt. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn't know she had nothing under the skirt -- but then again, he probably guessed.

Back in the cottage, she went straight upstairs, and by the time I'd got my trousers off she was lying back naked on the bed, as if butter wouldn't melt. "Come on big boy," she said, "Give me some of that fat dick of yours." And spread her legs by way of invitation. She'd become much more forward since her experience with Euan.

I pushed inside her without any foreplay -- she was already wet. I thought of the boys as I shagged her. "Harder," she gasped, holding my bum. I came first, selfishly, but she didn't seem to mind.

"It turned you on, showing yourself to the boys on the beach, didn't it?" I said afterwards, as we lay back dribbling.

"It turned you on too," she shot back -- "Especially that bulge in the boy's swimsuit. I keep imagining him peeling it down, and his big dick springing free." She was right of course -- I'd imagined that too.

We found a quiet little restaurant for dinner, and had an early night -- it had been a long day. In the morning it was raining -- we could hear it without getting out of bed -- so we had a lazy day cuddling. It was late afternoon before the rain cleared, and we could once again consider venturing outside.

"Shall we have a walk along the cliff path before we go to eat?" Tishy suggested.

"Yes, it will do us good to get some fresh air," I said. "It's a bit blustery, though still warm. Better dress appropriately."

Tishy selected a flared, full- skirted summer dress -- the sort that blows up very easily in a wind. Together with a pair of white panties that hardly covered anything and then a matching white suspender belt, silk stockings, low heels, and a push up bra with shallow cups.

"What do you think?" she said brightly. I just grinned -- this was definitely not appropriate dress for a windy cliff-top path. Though to be fair we were going on to have a meal later. "It'll do," I said ungenerously, impatient to get outside.

"Oh", she pouted, and undid another button at the front of the dress, to better display her deep cleavage and the lacy edge of the bra. "Better?"

I kissed her, and spanked her bottom hard. "Oooh'" she teased -- "Frisky!"

The path took us along the top of the cliffs but it was an easy one to walk, gradually winding its way up the side of the cliff, out of the village. It was a popular path, part of a network of coastal routes. The views from the cliffs were fantastic -- the waves glittered in the sunshine, and clouds raced across the sky.

As I expected, my wife had trouble keeping her skirt under control, due to the strong wind blowing off the sea.

Looking on ahead I noticed three young men in the distance, walking towards us. Tishy noticed them too -- "Let's stop here a minute and admire the view," she suggested. She then moved slightly off the path on to a small grassy mound near the cliff edge.

"Careful," I warned, "It's a long way down." She raised an eyebrow, in that way she has -- that was me told. Understanding what she had in mind, I decided that it would be better if I wasn't standing next to her, so moved off to one side, sat on a bench, and pretended to study the birds wheeling over the cliffs.

A gust of wind blew her skirt up exposing her panties and even a glimpse of her belly -- and she made no attempt to pull it down. To be fair it must have felt really nice. The approaching young men seemed not to notice, and in any case were too far away to see much. But when they were closer, they slowed down, and turned their gaze out towards the sea -- and my wife.

The next gust had the same result: her dress blew right up and now the young men could see her stocking tops, then her very flimsy see-through panties and suspender belt. It was such a cliché -- except that Marilyn at least tried to hold her skirt down. My wife made no attempt at all -- her hands were crossed under her breasts so as not to impede the view.

This particular gust of wind seemed to last ages and the guys made no secret of where they were looking. I was astonished to see her widen her stance a little, and push her hips forward - she was giving them a better view of her crotch.

I just sat on the bench, amazed at how the guys just stood around, shamelessly watching her skirt blow up every few seconds. Then one of them -- for a moment he reminded me of the cocky bastard at the beach -- walked across to speak to her. "Lovely views from up here." he said, in a strong Yorkshire accent. "On holiday?"

"Yes," said Tishy, "You from around here?" I didn't hear the reply -- I was too busy noticing how the young man was ogling at her tits. At some stage she must have undone another button, because now the lacy bra peeped out nicely.

While this fellow distracted her, his two friends moved around, to get a better look -- one even sat on the grass right in front of her. He must have been able to see right up her skirt. The third lad was not so bold, and remained behind -- he seemed more interested in her bum.

Then at the next gust of wind my wife's hands dropped down quickly, to stop her dress from rising. I was disappointed, but quickly realised why -- a family was approaching along the path, and was about to pass us.

Nice while it lasted, I thought, expecting her to join me now on the bench. But she stayed with the lads, sitting on the grass, chatting away -- with all three of them now. I had a knot of jealousy in my tummy -- I felt left out.

All three guys were now staring at my wife's cleavage. The wind blew hard and I was flabbergasted to see my wife let her skirt go again, so it blew up over thighs and around her middle. She carried on making small talk and looked straight at them smiling as their gaze lowered to her panties. What a thrill they must have had.

The conversation eventually seemed to lapse, and not being sure what to do next Tishy thanked the boys politely for their chat. They all stood up, and one of them -- the cocky one -- kissed her hand. She dropped a little curtsy, brushed the grass of her skirt, and came over to sit with me on the bench.

The young men resumed their walk, glancing back every few seconds -- no doubt hoping for another glimpse of soft white flesh. "Well, that was fun," she giggled, slightly nervously, I thought. She gave them a last little wave.

Just then another strong gust of wind blew her dress up to her middle, and I could see what the boys had seen -- while walking the crotch of her panties had pushed into her slit, and her outer lips were wrapped around the flimsy cloth.

She had shown her bare pussy to three lads she had never met -- and she knew it. This was a whole new ball game. I felt angry, and at the same time -- I don't know why -- incredibly turned on.

She looked at me shyly, seeking approval. "I feels so nice in the fresh air," she explained. "The wind, on my fanny," and she trailed a finger along her panties, to show me what she meant. Then brushed down her skirt, modestly.

I was quite lost for words. "Let's go for dinner now" I said, still feeling cross. But also stiff -- it was confusing. "Then afterwards we can have a drink in the pub," I added, not wanting to sound too disapproving.

"Sounds good," answered my dutiful wife, smiling sweetly. "Those nice young men said they may finish up there later -- we could all have a chat and a drink together."

"You found them interesting company then?" I asked, slightly sarcastically.

She slid her hand onto my thigh, and traced the outline of my stiff dick with her fingers. "Yes, very interesting -- stimulating, in fact," she said. "Would you mind if we... got to know them better?"

"Not at all, that would be fine," I said, "Fine indeed."

We walked back down the path, hand in hand. I wondered how far would she have gone if she had had the chance -- whether she would have let them push her back onto the grass, spreading her legs while they took her, one after the other. I imagined their big stiff pricks pushing between her wet lips, and her cries of pleasure as they shot their loads.

"Before we go to eat would you mind if we went back to the cottage for a while?" I asked.

"Of course, sweetheart, whatever you say," she replied sweetly -- she didn't ask why.

At the cottage she went ahead of me into the small living room, and turned to face me. She looked defiant, preparing for me to scold her. I stood in front of her as if deciding what to do next.

I placed my hands on her hips, then up onto her breasts, rolling the palms of my hands over her covered nipples. I then pulled the dress off her shoulders and down to her middle, perhaps rather roughly, and lifted her tits out of the bra. I stood back a little to admire the view.

She was breathing heavily, her arms pinned to her sides by the dress, not quite sure what to expect next. I lifted her skirt to her hips. She instinctively understood what I was about, and grabbed it in her hands. I walked over to the sofa. I wanted to see what the boys had seen.

She looked like a real tart, tits out, on the make. It was the stockings and suspenders that did it -- with her pussy on display it was so damn slutty. She widened her stance, and her outer lips parted.

As she watched me slowly undo my zip, she thrust her hips forward -- just like she'd done for the boys -- and the thin material of her panties slid between her wet lips She pulled the panties to one side, to expose her open slit.

"Jesus, Tishy, you're like a bitch on heat," I said. And pushed my shorts and undies down to my ankles, my hard prick springing free. After a sharp intake of breath, she licked her lips. She so wanted it.

"Please, Jim, I need it in me -- now!" she demanded. I spun her around, pushing her forwards, towards the open window. Her hands grabbed the sill to keep balance. Her legs were spread wide, her slit open and wet, and I shoved my hard fat prick right up her, in one thrust. She grunted with pleasure.

Grabbing her bum cheeks, I worked her body back and forth on my prick. She squeezed my dick with her cunt, trying to get herself off.

"I hope those..... guys..... are in the.... pub later," she gasped.

"So do I -- you'd like to `get to know them better', wouldn't you?"

"Yes -- oh yes!...... Oh please Jim,.... Please yes..... Oooh yes, I'm coming...." Her whole body convulsed, and as her throbbing cunt clamped down on my prick, I came hard into her. Bloody marvellous.

We collapsed onto the floor, panting hard. "Fucking hell, Tishy," I said, "That was intense."

"I take it that that's a yes, then," she said, recovering her composure. She smiled sweetly, and we kissed, as if to seal the deal. I couldn't remember us ever being this close.

Although we were hungry, we rested an hour, and then she took time to tidy herself up. I thought she'd change her outfit, but she didn't -- just pinned her hair up, and put new panties on. With the dress properly buttoned up, she looked rather prim. My posh english wife.

By the time we'd found the restaurant and eaten, it was already quite late. "Are you sure you still want to go to the pub?" I asked.

"Let's just drop in for a quick one," she said, "Just in case." She seemed nervous, though.

The pub was quite busy when we arrived, but we managed to find a table in a quiet corner. We sat sipping our drinks, and studied the local talent stood round the bar. One advantage of a pub in England is that everyone has to be eighteen, so you know where you are.

There was a lot to see -- young girls with big knockers, nipples pushing out through their tight tops, round bottoms squeezed into tight jeans. And I'm sure Tishy was admiring the young men too, with their broad chests and firm bums. Oh to be twenty again. I thought about the boy at the beach, and wondered if he might be around. Tishy had her hand on the inside of my thigh, under the table, stroking gently back and forth.

I didn't notice when the guys from the cliffs came in. But Tishy did -- and removed her hand from my thigh. Her faced flushed with pleasure when they spotted us, and came over with their pints. "Hello again," said the more confident one, "Mind if we join you -- these seem to be the only seats available."