Upsirt Violet Watched

\ We were in a foreign town, by the beach. The sun was descending on a suntan afternoon when we walked into the villa-side bar, a mere few steps away from our poolside room.

You led the way to a table on the patio. Walking behind you, I admired the way you strutted to your seat. Even in sandals, with no one but me watching, you stepped like a model on the catwalk.

"You're not wearing anything underneath, are you?" I asked.

"Yes, I am," you replied.

"Show me."

I had hoped you might simply lift your skirt up playfully in the back on the way to the table, but you just sat down across from me and smiled.

"So, that's how it's going to be?" I charged. "Just a tease?"

You quickly crossed your legs, without even a glimpse, but gave me a cute little grin.

Behind me, a table of guys settled into their seats. I noticed you take a look over at them with interest.

"I'll be right back for your drink order," I overheard the waitress say to them. She spoke in English but her voice sounded Eastern European, maybe from Prague.

"C'mon," I asked again, regaining your attention. "Just a peek."

You tilted sideways and placed your purple purse on the ground in front of your chair. The strap to your yellow sundress slid off your shoulder.

Casually, you lifted a glass of water to your lips and took a sip. You pretended to read your menu.

"I see. Playing it coy, huh?" I responded.

"The patio's a little crowded, love," you finally said.

"Not that crowded. Just us."

"And them," you nodded.

I didn't look around, my gaze was still fixed on your adorable, clamped knees.

"Okay,.... Look!" I said, drawing your attention away from your menu.

My fly was open and my erect penis was in my hand. Your eyes widened with a spark of embarrassment. But I finally had captured your attention.

"Hmm-hmmm," you cleared your throat, warning me that someone was approaching.

The young waitress stepped beside us, giving me barely enough time to pull a white cloth napkin over my lap.

"Have you two decided what you want to eat?" she asked.

I laughed beneath my breath.

"No," you said, "I think we may need a minute." You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe a Tanqueray up, regular olives, and a Comso, with Absolut," I told her.

"No problem, coming right up," the girl said before turning on her heels and disappearing.

"Now?" I asked. I tasted my drink with one hand as I tucked away my member with the other.

"To answer your question, I am wearing something,..." you paused. "In fact, I'm wearing your favorite pair of panties."

"Really?! Lemme see."

Your eyes twinkled while you looked to see if anyone was watching then, quickly, you uncrossed your legs and gave me a tiny glimpse.

I saw a glimmering patch of violet silk between your thighs.

Then, just as quickly, you crossed your other leg over and it disappeared.

"Nice!" I said. "Quick but nice."

"What'd you expect?"

"Now I expect you to take them off."

"Here? Seriously?"

"Yeah, here,... seriously."

You took a drink, scanned the table of men behind me again, then reached briskly under your dress and pulled off your panties,... just like that. Quick as a ghost.

"Ta-dah!" you exclaimed with fanfare, behaving like I didn't believe you would do it.

"Well, that didn't take long," I said.

"You expected a slow strip tease?"

"Not really," I agreed. "I'll take whatever you give me."

I reached over, took your panties from your hand and stuffed them into my pocket.

You smiled.

Drinks came. We ordered oysters. Another round of drinks. Made each other laugh. Talked about imaginary things. But not another word about what we both knew was going on between your legs.

The table of men behind us spoke in French. They enjoyed each other's company, but it seemed more professional than casual. I glanced at them on my way to the restroom and again on my way back.

They were wearing suits and open collars. Younger but distinguished looking in their fine leather shoes and expensive watches. They were drinking a high priced bottle of vintage Rhone wine.

You were facing their table and I was certain they'd looked you over the whole time I was away from the table. When I sat back down, I wondered if you'd flirted back at them.

"Now what?" you asked.

"How about a threeway," I tested in a whisper.

My brash response jolted you.

"Yeah, right!" you retorted. "I don't think our waitress is that into you."

"Not the waitress," I said. "One of them."

I nod toward the table of guys.

"You're out of your mind!" you flush, your neck suddenly crimson with embarrassment,... or excitement.

"You know you want it," I continued.

"No, I don't," suddenly a flash of seriousness overcame your demeanor.

"Uhhh, yeah, you do. We've talked about it."

"Just a fantasy. That's just bedroom talk, not reality," you argued, then hedged a bit by adding, "besides, they're too young."

I pivoted in my chair and scanned the table again more obviously. The men were younger, maybe by ten years or so,... but they were still very much grown men.

I turned back to you and said, "Look at them. They're not too young."

I knew you knew this already.

"And, so, what exactly is the problem with enjoying a slightly younger, French man?" I tacked on.

You bit your lip, a tale-tell sign you actually were thinking about my proposal.

"That's a really bad idea. I don't think you mean it," you said, exposing your openness slightly more to the idea.

"Yeah, I do," I confirmed. "We're here, tonight's our last night, we're never coming back, you look amazing and,..." I leaned in toward you, "I've always wanted to do this with you."

Your mind raced. Your feet began to tap-tap-tap on the floor. Nervous energy bounced out.

"I tell you what," I continued. "Let's just start like this. Play a little game with me. Which of those boys do you find most appealing?"

You tilted your head down but fixed a steady gaze on the table of men, this time with more intent. Your brow furrowed with scrutiny. It was like watching a child try to pick one toy from a big box of toys.

"The dark-headed, dark-skinned one," you replied. Your voice dropped to a lower tone; it was like making a handshake on a deal for black market goods, under-the-table.

I knew which man you were talking about. He was strong, had a sun-kissed tan and green eyes. I'd guessed he'd be the one.

"Okay, can he see you?"

"Yes," you barely breathed. The air seemed thinner.

"Can he see your legs?"

You nodded your head.

"Then show them to him!"

When I said this, I knew you were instantly wet.

Impulsively, you pushed back slightly from the table and turned your chair even more in the man's direction.

The waitress walked by, but you weren't distracted. You were transfixed.

"Is he looking at you?" I asked.

You nodded.

"Show it to him."

We both knew what "it" was.

You fixed your gaze on me but pulled up the hem of your sundress a touch more and parted your legs.

I noticed that the table behind me went quiet. So quiet, I could hear the ocean in the background. And, all night, I hadn't noticed the sound of waves crashing into the beach until that very moment. It was as if nature itself was straining to catch a look up your skirt.

"More," I mouthed. "I can't see."

"I wasn't showing it to you!" you quietly joked.

You waited a beat then slid your sandals a few more inches apart.

Even from my angle, I could see all the way up your legs, and I was confident your target could, too. The view was revealing, beautiful, slick and glistening.

"A guy walked into a bar,..." I deflected with a joke.

You laughed loudly at the reference, breaking the moment's anxiety. Drawn back from the trance, you whipped your hair back and adjusted naturally in your seat, which broke the spell you'd cast across the room.

"You look thirsty," I added.

"You know it," you replied. You tilted forward -- your breasts tilting forward with you -- and sipped your drink with pouty lips through the straw. That view, too, was intoxicating.

To get an even better view, I reached over like a dart and popped open the next button on your dress.

"Naughty!" you scolded me, but your eyes bounced over my shoulder to the table behind me to see if your watcher was still watching. He must've been because you leaned back in your chair and gave me a smoldering look like "game on!"

I imagined the man was motioning you over to his table or inviting you to spread your legs for him once more.

"Say, don't you have some lip gloss in that purse that's between your legs?" I asked.

You nodded, precociously, and caught my visual reference.

"With all the sun you got today, your lips look dry."

"Hardly," you quipped as you licked your lips. We both knew your lips were not dry.

But taking the queue, you opened your legs even farther to straddle your purse and bent all the way forward to retrieve your lip balm. Your breasts nearly spilled out the top of your dress. You kept your legs wide open after you retrieved the tube from your purse, extending the show for your attentive voyeur even longer.

I saw all of you, and I was sure the other man did, too. You wanted to show off now and the fleshy yawn between your thighs caused my own rigidity spring to life.

Straightening up, your legs remained extended as you applied gloss to your lips. You inspected your mouth with a compact mirror, pretending to ignore the distraction you'd caused.

You glanced over to the table of men. Tall, dark and handsome was transfixed on you. The other men at the table were talking to him, but he was not listening to them. What he saw of you must have driven him crazy!

"You hungry now?" I asked.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," you growled.

"Then now that your lips are ready, let's go to the bar and see if we can find you something to eat."

"Oh, they're ready, alright!" you confirmed, straightening your dress.

"Then let's go."

Quickly, we left the table and headed for the bar. I swear you rubbed your hip against tall-and-dark as we passed his table. I walked behind you, watching your sexy backside sway and, when no one was looking, I casually dropped your violet panties to the floor beside tall-and-dark's table.

Then, we waited.

But we don't have to wait long.

"Hi, I'm Sacha, but my friends call me Sean," he said with a heavy French accent. When he approached, he dutifully extended his hand to me.

"Hello, Sean, I'm Sam," I said while shaking his hand, "and this is my wife, Elle."

"Hello," he said to you.

"Hi," you batted your eyes like a naive school girl.

Getting past the initial awkward jitters, we engaged in chit-chat for a few minutes. Ordered a round of drinks. He was from Paris, here on business. Not married. Had a proficient command of the English language,... good sense of humor. Was not a bore or stupid. He worked in real estate development, mainly large commercial projects, but he also was pursuing whatever professional opportunity might be next. He played tennis and ran daily in the Tuileries Garden in front of the Louvre Museum for exercise. He certainly appeared fit. You kept touching his arm.

"So, what are your plans later?" I asked.

"Ah, not sure," Sean said. "I was thinking about taking a night swim but my colleagues decided to,... how do you say,... hit the sack early. I'm sharing a room with one of my co-workers and,... well,... you know. I prefer not to disturb him."

"Our room is beside the pool," you inserted.

"Yeah, you're welcome to change into your suit there,... so you don't bother your bunkmate," I invited.

He ran his hands through his flowing dark hair, trying to figure out exactly what we were inviting him to come do.

"You sure?" he asked, genuinely.

Looking at your growing anticipation, I had no choice. "Yes, we're sure," I responded.

You stared happily back at me, determined as a bullet. You acted like a little girl about to open a big box of surprises.

A few minutes later, Sean was off to his room to fetch his swimsuit and you and I were back in our room. Not a word was spoken on the way.

Inside the room, the lights were dim. You kicked off your sandals and lit a few candles. I turned on your favorite love-making music then peeled off your dress. You peeled off my shirt and kissed me passionately. Your lips were feverish. Your breath was heavy, heart rate palpable.

A knock on the door, quicker than I expected.

I opened the door. Sean stood there, black swimming suit and beach towel in hand but with a curious look on his face. He could smell the energy in the room.

"Come on in," I said invitingly. "We were just getting ready."

You were still standing right where I'd left you, in the middle of the room, beautifully hot and nude from head to foot. In the dim light, it seemed to me you were nearly panting. Maybe you were shaking slightly.

Without a word, Sean walked over, dropped to his knees in front of you and began kissing you below your belly button. His lips nibbled your skin eagerly. Instantly, his tongue began exploring a bit lower down. Obviously, this what he'd wanted to do to you all night long.

I removed my pants and stood behind you. With one hand, you pushed Sean's face firmly into your gap. With the other hand, you reached behind you and took my stiff cock into your hand.

I kissed your neck.

"Good?" I questioned in a bare whispered.

You shook your head vigorously, in agreement.

Sean put his hands on your feet and spread your legs so he could gain even greater access. I looked over your shoulder as your sweet little vagina was being exposed for your admirer to see. You reached with one hand and opened your inner lips like petals of a flower. My dick swelled in your grasp.

Sean stared up at you. His hands climbed to your knees and moved up your thighs. Your legs shook with adrenaline.

My fingers stroked you from behind,... your shoulders,... your back,... your ass.

From beneath, Sean pulled himself close to you and breathed in your silkiness. Your libidinous scent blended with his saliva. You were smooth, glistening and shimmering with eagerness.

Sean's fingers teased your tummy, circled the tiny tuft of hair that adorned the top of your opening.

I continued kissing your neck. My fingers teased the sides of your legs,... your thighs,....

Sean's fingers parted your lower lips. Your wetness was so complete his fingers slid over your clit and over your vagina with no resistance. Even without looking, you knew your clit was as pronounced as a button, proud to be touched. Two fingers circled around it, applying just the right amount of pressure, neither moving too slow nor too fast. It was as if Sean's hands had years of practice arousing your body.

The tension rose to a breaking point, a point where you could turn back or release and allow the approaching orgasm to crest. You wanted to give in a little but also wanted to hold back for a powerful orgasm if things continued at this trance-like pace.

Then, wonderfully, at last, his fingers were inside you. And his mouth was on you.

The waiting was more than you could stand. The volcanic orgasm grew to a peak from within. Your eyes were closed and your mind must've drifted back to the dinner table, to the moment when your legs opened wide for this man the first time. Finally, you realized, his fingers were slipping in and out of you.

A small orgasm rippled out, and you bit your lip to keep from screaming out.

You opened your eyes to see the top of Sean's head as he lapped at your vagina. The sliding glass door to the pool was open and the pool's blue light reflected into the room. You relented to the intentional, soft touches in jerks and spasms.

"Good so far?" I asked.

You nodded greedily, more of a beg really. A slight whimper escaped your tongue-wetted lips.

"Do you want to give Sean oral?" I asked.

"Yes," you answered, breaking your silence. "But only if I can feel you, too," you added.

With Sean still on his knees, you climbed onto the rug and removed Sean's shirt and belt. With impatient finger work, his trousers instantly sprung open and his hungry cock took center stage.

"Wow," you mouthed silently to yourself.

Sean shimmied the rest of the way out of his clothes. You studied his physique to your delight as he stripped.

Nude in front of you, you quickly dropped down and took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips over his crown to taste his sweet tip.

Sean let out a moan.

From behind, my knees moved in between your legs. I spread your legs wide apart, exposing as much of you as I could. I reached between your legs and gently stroked your clit. Watching you begin to suck on Sean, I slid my fingers over your mound and over the quivering entrance to your pussy.

Gasping for air, you let out a soft whimper then, not skipping a beat, plunged back to work.

Without releasing his swollen cock from your mouth, you reached out to balance yourself by placing your hands on your plaything's hips. His hips were narrow, arching to a V along his tight stomach. Your thumbs gripped his hipbones and pulled him into your throat.

With a good grasp, you worked it expertly now and tugged him back and forth in graceful motions so you could swallow his head, then shaft and back out again. You used your full tongue and lips along the length of it. It was thick and long. Foreign. Manly.

You moved one hand to grasp his balls. They were swinging freely, large and firm. Then you moved your hand back up to grab his shaft and force the head of his penis into your mouth again. It was smooth, preening at the attention you gave it.

It was fantastic.

"How can this be happening?" you must've wondered to yourself. Sean clearly felt better than you'd ever dreamt another lover would feel -- strong, large, in control, masculine and hungry for you.

"Yes, that is it!" he whispered coolly with his noticeable French accent, watching you take him.

I, too, watched you take Sean's large cock in and out of your greedy mouth.

I suddenly wanted to go down on you while you were going down on your new friend.

Sliding onto my back, I moved my face between your legs and scooted beneath you. You continued to suck voraciously on Sean's cock while I positioned myself between your legs.

My lips touched your craving pussy. You tasted sweet, juicy. Ripples of pleasure cascaded over your entire body with each nibble. You ground down on my face with your hips. My tongue explored every part of your slit. Immediately, you were overpowered with the desire to come again. Your excitement flowed uncontrollably as my tongue searched your clit, your vagina, your ass.

Above me, you were jerking off Sean's cock with your hand and mouth in long, quick motions. Your hips bucked down against my lips -- fleshy and soft mouth -- while my tongue explored you in deep penetrating reaches,....

I anticipated the next intense orgasm was coming. And when your contractions began to subside, I pushed you off of me and moved my body from under you.

I stood up and watched you working your magic.

You continued to suck Sean furiously. Saliva ran down his shaft and onto the one hand you were using to hold onto his cock. You tasted his pre-cum and felt the shaft grow more rigid as volcanic intent filled his veins.

After a few more strokes, you pulled your lips off Sean's rigid shaft with a loud slurp, then looked right at me.

"I want him to fuck me!" you urged.

"Do it," I whispered.

Your eyes blazed in the darkness.

Sean flipped you onto your back, knelt at your feet and, with his strong arms, pulled you to him until your feet were over his shoulders. Your hips instantly buried down, forcing your muff aggressively onto his shaft. With even the first thrust, he went as deeply as you could have dreamed. Your eyes watered and your thighs clinched tightly, as you anticipated his every movement. His rhythm accelerated greedily, banged vigorously against your clit and inner thighs. He propelled you steadily backwards on the floor with a solid rocking motion. His body against yours created a steady thumping sound of hot flesh on flesh.