Vici Lynn's Trip to Aruba

When I first met my boyfriend, Greg, I was at a spring ball at a local country club. It is a black tie affair and the women seem to compete with one another in terms of who can wear the lowest cut evening gowns. I went to the ball in a black backless evening dress. It didn't particularly accentuate my breasts but in the back it was cut to only a half-inch or so above the top of my ass. And, although it wasn't a low cut dress in the front, my naked back made it clear to everybody that I wasn't wearing a bra. And, to anyone who looked, and I hoped that a lot did, it was also clear that if I had on any panties, which I didn't, they would have to have been very skimpy. My outfit caught Greg's attention in a major way. When the dancing began he immediately asked me to dance and we continued doing so for most of the evening. When he took me into his arms, he pulled me tightly against him, with his cock pressing against my pubes.

During all the slow dances he had an erection, which seemed to embarrass him, but I pretended not to notice as I exulted in the feeling of that wonderfully stiff member pushing against me and I pressed even more closely against him. Sometimes I moved my body so that my pussy was grinding against his cock. Every time I pressed against it, it seemed to get bigger. As we danced, his hand around my waist would slip downwards to rest upon the crack of my bottom, occasionally slipping beneath the thin material of my dress and onto my ass. And then, as the evening wore on, down further. The dance floor was always very crowded so he didn't worry much about people seeing what he was doing. Sometimes he was able to reach all the way down my crack and under my ass to find my pussy. When his hand came back up, it was moist on my back. It was so exciting because his fingers felt so good and because we were doing this in public. Wherever he put his hand, I never moved it away. I almost came, over and over again, right there on the dance floor. Eventually the band finished playing and we had to go home. He called me the next day and soon we started dating.

After a few months we decided to go on a brief vacation, our first one together, to Aruba. We had arranged to meet at the airport and take the American Airlines flight. We both arrived early. He had said it would be nice if I wore something interesting and I told him that I thought he would be happy with what I was going to wear. While we were standing in line to check in, I bent over to check that all our bags had identification tags on them. I was talking to Greg while I bent over, so I knew he was looking at me. When I leaned down, my button up the front, scoop necked mini shirtdress fell away from my body. As I knew he would, Greg looked down the front of my dress. I knew that he could see all the way down to my shoes. And that he could see that I wasn't wearing any underwear. No bra, no panties, no nothing. Greg could also see that my nipples were erect because I was so excited knowing that he knew that I was naked under my dress.

The plane was less than half full but we were seated in the midst of several families with children. I looked back and saw that the rear rows were almost empty. If the flight was to be as interesting as I hoped it would be, we needed to be away from families, so I asked Greg if we could move closer to the rear to a row with no people in any of the surrounding rows. We quickly moved down to our new seats. I've always been a bit afraid of flying, or at least of takeoffs and landings, so we held hands tightly as the plane took off. Once in the air we talked some but kissed more. Within a few minutes I encouraged Greg to undo the top two buttons of my shirtdress and put his hand inside, playing with my breasts and touching my nipples as their firmness became even firmer.

After a short while the stewardess came by to ask if we wanted a drink. Greg hastily removed his hand from my breast and put it in his lap. Even though I am an exhibitionist, I began to turn red with embarrassment but the stewardess only smiled as she took our drink orders. As soon as she left we started kissing again. Greg kissed my lips, my ears and the side of my neck, which really turned me on. It seemed to take forever, but his hand eventually moved down to my legs and then to the lower buttons of my dress, which was fairly short, about eight inches above my knees. As I sat there, highly excited, he undid the bottom three buttons (leaving only two buttons not yet undone) and slid his hand in to play with my pussy. I was already somewhat moist and rapidly became more so. Just as he was inserting a finger into me, the stewardess came back with the drinks. Once again we quickly composed ourselves. This time, the stewardess didn't bother to avert her eyes and smiled even more deeply.

We put the drinks on an empty tray table next to us and between sips resumed our earlier activities. Very soon, thereafter, the chief steward, who I think had been tipped off by the stewardess that it might be worth his while to come by our row, came to ask if everything was all right and if we needed more drinks. The excitement of our activities seemed to have made both of us thirsty so we actually were just about ready for a second round. As the steward bent down to take our glasses he glanced down the front of my dress. He must have been able to see all of my breasts and my nipples because he almost knocked our glasses over trying to pick them up. After he left to get the new drinks, Greg put his hand back in my pussy and began massaging it again. Most of the time he played with my clit, but occasionally inserted a finger deeper inside me.

He had just inserted a second finger into my very wet pussy when the steward brought the next round of drinks. I looked down and saw that my dress was by now totally open below the waist and my pussy was completely exposed to view. Greg started to pull his hand away in order to let me rearrange my dress but I simply put my hand on his and smiled up at the steward. I thanked him for the drinks and told him that I thought we would probably be needing a lot more, if he had time to bring them. He stammered some kind of reply that he would be happy to make the time and then said not to worry, that the drinks were on the house even though we were in economy class.

After he left, I unzipped Greg's pants and took out his erect cock. "If we're going to show the steward such a good time, we ought to give equal treatment to the stews," I said.

Then I began slowly massaging his penis, stroking it enough to keep it very firm but making certain not to let him come. For the rest of the trip, either the steward or one of the stewardesses came by every few minutes or so to see if we needed anything. There must have been at least five different stewardesses on the flight and every single one of them stopped by at one time or another. (We were lucky that they were all young and none of them were prudish). Sometimes when one of them would stop by I would cover Greg's cock with my hand and arm, and sometimes not. I never covered myself so my pussy was bare most of the time and one or the other of my breasts was exposed some of the time. A few passengers walked past our row to get to the bathrooms. By the time they realized what they were seeing they were (almost always) already past us. On the way back, however, they walked much more slowly. Some stopped and stared at length, others took sideways glances, but all took as long as possible to walk past us. This made me very excited.

When the plane landed and we climbed down the ramp, several of the stews and the steward smiled at us and joined in thanking us for making the flight so pleasant. By the time we cleared customs, found a taxi and arrived at the Americana Hotel we were (still) in a state of considerable excitement. I began undoing the buttons on my dress as soon as we entered the elevator (we had buttoned up again at the end of the flight, not knowing how the Aruba customs officials would react if we did not, and not wishing to risk spoiling the vacation). It is probably a good thing that the room wasn't too far from the elevator or my dress would have been on the hallway floor before we got to the room. As it was, the bellboy's jaw dropped when he turned around after putting our bags on the luggage rack and saw that my dress was completely undone, my pussy totally exposed and my breasts mostly exposed. One erect nipple was in view, the other almost so. The bellboy then told us at much greater length than I expect he normally did about all the amenities of the hotel. He seemed very reluctant to accept the tip Greg was trying to give him and leave but, eventually, he did.

We leaped upon the bed and within seconds I had Greg's tongue inside me. He was just beginning to learn which positions I like best and where and how I really like to be touched. I gladly tutored him. To tell you the truth, I like almost all positions (at least all the ones I know how to do) but I especially like to be on top or to make love doggie style. And, of course, to have a tongue in my pussy and on my clit. After trying a few of the things I like, we both came. I think the plane ride had made Greg very excited because he spurted a lot more than usual. We rested for a few minutes, took quick showers and then put our swimsuits on so we could hit the beach.

Swimsuit might not be the right term in my case. I decided to wear a one piece, pink Danskin undergarment with spaghetti straps and no lining in the pubic region or any other areas. It was more or less transparent when completely dry and I could easily imagine what it would be like when wet. Greg did a double take when he looked at me in it. I asked him if he minded if I wore this because I didn't have any bikinis with me. He told me that he usually preferred bikinis to one-piece suits but that in this case he thought an exception could be made. Then he told me that if the suit looked the way he thought it would when it got wet that we had better plan for just a very short swim.

I draped a towel over my shoulder and headed out the door, followed by Greg. When I looked back I saw that he was watching my ass, which I took to be a good sign. We took the elevator down and walked through the lobby to the exit for the beach. Quite a few eyes turned in our direction, which made me very happy. We got to the beach, put our towels down and went into the water. Several men looked over at me. I think they couldn't really believe that a woman would actually wear what I was wearing into the water. And some women stared in disapproval of what they thought would be even more clearly evident in a moment or so after the suit became wet. Their fears and my hopes were instantly rewarded as it turned out that the suit was 100% completely transparent when wet. Greg, and everybody else, could see my breasts and nipples so clearly that it was almost as if I weren't wearing a suit. I followed one man's eyes and saw that every strand of my pubic hair was clearly exposed. Greg started getting an erection so he went into deeper water. I swam with him for a bit but I preferred being closer to the shore, so the water wouldn't cover my ass or my pussy. I did, however, duck into the water frequently to make sure that my non-suit suit would stay wet and exciting for Greg and all others who happened to glance in my direction – and a lot did.

I thought briefly about allowing the suit to dry before we walked back through the lobby to the elevator. But I didn't think that would be exciting enough. So when I was ready to go, I ducked back under the water one last time, put my towel over my shoulders, making sure that it didn't cover my breasts, and then began walking back into the Americana. I was so excited I was wet from more than just the ocean. Everybody in the lobby turned to watch as we walked through. I don't think anybody saw my face as they were much too busy looking at my nipples, which were very erect, or my pussy. I think our procession through the lobby created lifetime memories for quite a few of the people there – and certainly for me.