Everyone in the story involved in sexual acts is 18 or older.
*
It was a few minutes past midnight; I was working on my third scotch and water, listening to some past musical hits on my IPod while everyone else in the house was sleeping. I'll be candidly frank and admit that I've been trying to drum up an idea for my next erotic story. If I'm right about the number, I've got about 347 stories on Literotica at the moment, and 348 was giving me fits.
Over the years I've tried to touch on every aspect of erotic play; but there are only a few basic themes upon which to present one's story; but one looks for a new twist to formulate around a theme that's been used before. And that's what I've been trying to do for the past two days -- trying to develop a different variation on a time tested theme, but so far I've come up empty.
I fall back on a tried and true method that I've used before, free association. I take another sip of scotch, close my eyes and, believe it or not, allow the music to take me down memory lane.
Yeah, perusing my personal sexual adventures always leads to something ... and this time .... Free association took me back to the 7th and 8th grades when I first became aware of my sexual side and how just looking at a girl's neck could make me hard for hours on end. Although it was some years later that I actually lost my virginity. (I wrote about that in a story titled: My First Time.)
I was dwelling on that experience, trying to draw some previously hidden act or action from which I might soar off to a new sexual adventure when I remembered that weekend in Connecticut.
How the hell had I forgotten about those two nymphs, Eileen and Fiona?
A little background: It was the late 70's; my father was building his dream house on some virgin acreage just off Candlewood Lake. For him, it was a weekend project that because of money and time constraints would take almost nine years to complete.
That particular summer, my father was concentrating on carving the foundation out of the gigantic boulders he'd decided to build the house on. Family members, uncles and their families gladly volunteered to help, and different ones came up each weekend to work and allow their wives to make use of the lake so the kids got out of the city and had a little summer fun.
My father had installed a used Army tent that actually slept twelve people comfortably. That is, if you didn't mind the mosquitoes and other insects that roamed freely through the tent. There was a wooden platform for flooring and six beds, a small table and four chairs and a corner where the food and cooler sat.
As a skinny 18 year old, I was basically a go-for, hauling cement blocks from the truck to the building site in the morning and then thank God, assigned to take the smaller kids down to the lake and supervise them until their mothers found time to join us. As to my appearance, my face and body wasn't unattractive, but I was a bit too short and a bit too thin to be the kind of "hunk" girls like to invite home from the bars. Not that I'd had all that much experience in the bars at that time.
But one Friday, my uncle brought his sister-in-law, Eileen and her best friend and schoolmate, Fiona along. Like me, they were both seniors. Unlike me, they went to an all girl Catholic School. My uncle at that time had no children of his own, which meant that when I'd finished hauling cement blocks I was free to show the girls the lake.
Another thing worth mentioning, as it served as the catalyst for what followed, was that my mother had stocked all sizes of bathing suits for our guests. Where she got them I might guess, but would rather not. But I know for a fact that she didn't buy them at any local store.
Eileen's sister rummaged through the pile of bathing suits and found a pair that seemed right for Eileen and Fiona. Moments later, rolling their eyes at what they were doing, the two girls joined in.
There might have been thirty or more suits to choose from, although none of them were particularly stylish from the teenage girl's perspective. Given their druthers, both would have opted for bikinis. But, alas, none were to be found, and after what to me seemed a prolonged delay, they made their selections and darted behind a jury-rigged partition to try them on.
I got to see them after they decided the attire would be good enough for the afternoon's swimming session. Eileen's was a basic white suite with red and yellow flowers scattered around. She looked good to me: A brunette, sensual lips, even white teeth, trim stomach, long legs, and what looked like a lovely pair of pear-shaped breasts behind the bathing suit material.
Fiona on the other hand, wore a pale yellow one-piece that was actually too loose for her breasts, although neither of us knew it at the time, the water would add more weight to the material when we started playing in the lake and the laws of physics and her over-developed breasts would take it from there. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I had a hardon just thinking about having two girls to myself down at the lake, and spent considerable time trying to hide it from everyone as I led the way down to the lake with Eileen and Fiona following about two strides behind, whispering to each other the entire time.
Of course I thought they were talking about me. Well, maybe they were to some extent, but my inexperience with girls had me queasy in that I didn't know what to say or do with them when we arrived at the lake itself.
That problem was solved when the girls ran shrieking into the warm lake waters. I pulled off the extra large T-shirt I was using to hide my almost perpetual erection and followed them in, diving at their feet to show off a little.
It never occurred to me that either of them might be a very good diver, or swimmer. (They weren't, but I should have considered it before showing off.)
It was only when we moved into shallower water that I saw how revealing their bathing suits were. Fiona was struggling to keep her rather large breasts within the confines of her top, and losing the battle. She was forced to use one hand to sort of pinch the material together, and kept asking if we had anything like a safety pin to help her out. (We didn't, and I wouldn't have offered one if I had. I was shy, but not a fool.)
Eileen thought Fiona's plight funny, that is until she caught me staring at her crotch. Her suit had no protective material there, and once the suit was wet it was virtually transparent. I was stunned to see her cunt lips pressed against the wet material, shielded only in part by her dark pubic hair, and once wet that thinned out so much that no matter what Eileen tried, her cunt was visible in its entirety.
What kept the girls from leaving the water and grabbing towels to cover themselves was the protruding bulge in my own bathing trunks which apparently fascinated them as much as I was by them. And for a time the three of us sort of stood still and gawked at one another.
After a minute or so, a kind of truce was established, and we resumed our swimming with me taking the casual look, but not making any comment on Fiona's lovely tits; most of which kept almost springing free, or Eileen's cunt, which was a magnet to my eyes. (It was the first pussy I'd ever seen close up. I had seen one while peeping through some windows as I drove about one Saturday night the previous spring, but while it provided me with hours of masturbatory pleasure, it wasn't anywhere as close to my person as Eileen's was.)
I should add that there was absolutely no touching -- at least on my part. After a while Eileen and Fiona got playful, dunking one another. That's where I got a glimpse of Eileen's left tit. In fact, Fiona actually reached into her top and plucked it out while Eileen screamed with laughter and promptly returned the favor while I gawked happily.
Eventually the girls complained that they were turning into prunes and left the water, picked up their towels and dried themselves off as best they could.
"Do we have to go back to the tent?" Eileen asked. I can't tell you how many different erotic thoughts ran through my 18 year old brain at those words. But I answered quickly enough, and I didn't stammer or stutter either.
"I know a nice little clearing in the woods," and I pointed over to our left. Both girls looked but couldn't see anything through the thick foliage.
"Where?" Fiona asked, obviously interested.
"I'll have to show you," I said. "Let's pick up our things in case someone else comes down here."
I led the way to a little clearing I discovered the previous summer. There was no clear-cut path and I warned them to hold the occasional branch so that the one following didn't get smacked in the face. They followed me without question, and soon enough we were some 250 feet from the lake shore; a distance that would allow us to make some noise without being heard; I told the girls not to yell or scream and we'd be left alone.
We spread our towels out and lay down to get some sun. Being from the city, we all wanted to return from Connecticut with some sense of a tan and so settled into a lethargic, almost sleepy mode until Fiona began tapping Eileen on the shoulder. Eileen, half asleep asked, "What's the matter, is there a bug on me?"
"No," Fiona said quickly as she sat up allowing her right breast to peek out at me. "I have to pee."
"Oh," Eileen replied, "Well I do too."They both looked at me as if I could tell them where the nearest bathroom was.
"Umm, we're in the woods, we don't have any place to go, unless you go in the woods."
"Yeah, okay," Fiona said as she casually adjusted her peeping breast back into her top.
My mind worked faster than usual and provided me with the perfect excuse for being able to watch both of them pee.
"Umm, Eileen ... listen, if you go into the woods you better watch out for the poison ivy."
