How Are Mine

The tall, redheaded woman stepped out of the hot tub and walked back towards the hotel, the warm water still dripping off of her body, leaving behind a darkened trail on the pavement. We were alone once again. I looked over at Michael. His eyes bounced up and down in perfect synchrony with her thong-clad ass. I elbowed him in the side. Hard.

"You're such a lecher, geez... That poor woman..."

"What? I was just admiring her swimsuit."

"Uh huh, I noticed you 'admiring' it the entire time she was here. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, I noticed. Tell me, what

did

you like best about her swimsuit?"

"I liked...how it...exposed most of her tits..." he explained, helpfully using hand gestures in case I had forgotten what her chest had looked like. Not much chance of that. I was going to have nightmares about being suffocated by cantaloupes for

days

.

I punched his arm. "Pervert! I'm surprised she didn't pop out of that handkerchief... What's so special about them, anyway? They're just big... She might as well stuff cantaloupes down her top."

"They're not 'just big,' they're amazing! Perfect shape, gravity-defying perkiness, those hard nipples poking through her swimsuit top... It'd be like totally ignoring Botticelli's

The Birth of Venus

right next to you."

The Birth of Venus

? Geez, really? Was that how seriously he took breasts? And were those the sort of breasts he liked? Huge? I had to admit, I didn't see any of the beauty that he did. I glanced down my far more substantial bikini top. It didn't have nearly so much to cover as hers had... "I wonder how mine are..." Where would they rank? Would they be

The Starry Night

or were they closer to that monkey Jesus painting?

"I'll judge them. If you want..." Michael offered.

My eyes widened.

I said that out loud

? Shit... My cheeks burned, even with the cool night air. My tongue touched the roof of my mouth, ready to say "No," but I stopped, my lips already parted.

Well, why not..? Michael was my best friend, ever since college. And he was certainly a connoisseur of the female breast, if his usual conversation topics were any indication. He'd be able to give me an idea of where I ranked on the Famous Painting Scale of Breast Amazingness.

Part of the problem was that no one had ever gotten the chance to tell me how they were. My conservative parents, born and raised in India, had forbidden me from dating as a child, and I hadn't dated in college. No one had really approached me, and I hadn't had any strong crushes to pursue myself.

Now that I had graduated, it seemed harder to meet guys, and so far, none had really grabbed my attention. To be honest, none of them really measured up to Michael's standard, even as a friend. He was always there for me, always ready to talk, always willing to give me a back rub or cook dinner or watch a movie with me when I needed some company. He listened to my neurotic worries. He gave me advice.

And he certainly wasn't unattractive, despite his scruffy beard. He really would look nicer clean-shaven... Even so, if I were being totally forthcoming, I would have to admit that I had previously wondered how he might kiss. I couldn't deny stealing a glance or two at him when he wasn't looking. He filled out his jeans pretty well, both front and back. The thought of him seeing my body felt, well, it felt a lot of things: embarrassing, exhilarating, exciting...freeing, fabulous, flagitious...

"Are you serious?" I asked, fearing he had just been joking.

His eyebrows arched. I doubt he had expected me to take him up on his offer. "Yeah. I mean, yeah, if you want me to, I'd be willing to do that for you."

I looked around. We were the only ones around. Everyone else at the hotel had gone inside for the night, leaving the pool and hot tubs abandoned. Except for us. "Okay, but be honest, I mean it! Don't sugar coat it! If they're bad, just tell me. I want to know. I know they're small, but size doesn't matter, right? I mean, they're still-"

"Urvashi, I'm sure they're fine. I promise, I'll be completely, one hundred percent honest with you."

"Okay. But close your eyes! You can open them when I say so."

"Alright," he assented. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands.

The stars twinkled above us. Steam rose off of the water, wafting into the air. The only sound was the soft gurgling of the hot tub. I bit my lip. I couldn't believe I was about to do this, to show my best friend my breasts... What would he think of them? I hoped he'd like them... I reached behind my back and untied my top. It almost fell into the water before I caught it, cupping my breasts, preserving my modesty a moment longer.

I took a deep breath and flung my top to the side. It landed with a wet thwack. No going back now...

I looked down, studying myself. My butterscotch breasts lay completely exposed for the first time, my dark brown nipples already hard, poking out brashly, eager for their first bit of attention. I hadn't ever really thought about whether or not they were attractive before. Were they?

I cupped them gently, pushing them up a bit, briefly giving myself something that, at the right angle and with some generous benefit of the doubt, might resemble cleavage before surrendering to the limitations of volume. They weren't going to get any bigger in the next few seconds... "Alright, you can open your eyes," I instructed him.

He lowered his hands. His eyes widened. My hands gripped my thighs as I fought to stop myself from covering myself from his view. I was topless in front of a guy. A guy was staring at my chest. A lot... His eyes lingered on my breasts, his gaze caressing every inch of them. A grin crept up from the corners of his mouth. But he didn't say anything.

Seconds ticked by, the suspense driving me crazy. My heart pounded. An unexpected—but not undesired—warmth grew between my thighs as he continued to stare at me, ogling me like a piece of meat, admiring me like a piece of art. I had never been looked at like this before. It was thrilling. He was my audience. Did he find me attractive? Sexy? Was he turned on by me? Aroused? Repulsed? Disgusted? "So? How are mine? H-how do they look?" I asked shakily. "I know they're not-"

"They're gorgeous," he whispered.

"

Really

?"

"Really. They're pert and perky. They look very firm, too. They're beautifully round. And I just love your skin tone. Don't worry about their size, they look like a perfect handful," he explained, his eyes still focused on my chest. "I actually prefer petite breasts...

"You really have nothing to worry about, though. You have the body of a goddess. There should be statues of you in art museums."

My heart fluttered. A goddess? I had certainly never imagined that my breasts were

divine

... But if he said so... I hungered for more. I wanted to satisfy him. I needed to. "Do you want to check?"

"What?"

"You, uh, you said they looked like a perfect handful. Do you want to check for yourself?" What had been in my drink? Where did this sudden confidence come from? Two minutes ago, no one had ever seen my breasts, and now I was inviting my best friend to fondle them. And I wanted him to. I wanted his hands on my body. I wanted to drive him wild with desire. I wanted him to remember this and touch himself on lonely nights, thinking about my naked body as he orgasmed, moaning my name. I swallowed. Did I really just think that..?

"Sure."

"Okay, but this is just so you can tell me how they are, got it?" I emphasized, already imagining how his hands would feel against my sensitive flesh, his fingers grazing against my soft skin.

"Got it." His hands emerged from the water, his fingers approaching me like the Kraken's tentacles. I grabbed his wrists.

"Wait, wait. Stop for a second."

"Are you alright? It's fine if you don't want to do this."

"No, I'm okay. It's just...embarrassing to do this face-to-face... Can you do it from behind?" His eyebrow arched. "N-n-not like that! I mean, like..."

"I know what you mean, don't worry." He held my arm and turned me around, positioning me. My skin tingled where he grabbed me. I exhaled deeply as he pulled me towards him, both of us facing forward. I surrendered myself to his guidance. I reached his lap. A hard bulge pressed against me. Oh my god, is that his...his twig? I shifted my weight a bit. It rose forcefully against me. It was big... And

hard

... It had to be

that

, what else could it be? Should I mention it to him?

I had never seen one in person. I had watched some porn, of course. Not much, but enough to know the basics. But flesh and blood? Never. Not a real, adult one, anyway. Babysitting little cousins, they had been impossible not to see, but those were just innocent nubs. This...

This

was a man's tool: powerful, virile, designed for one thing... And it was hard, as hard as steel, because of

me

...

I

caused this...

I gasped. Michael's hands engulfed my breasts. "Are you still okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "You just surprised me." I was thankful that he couldn't see my face. My cheeks must be crimson, and I was sure I would draw blood if I bit my lip any harder. His hands moved slowly, gently, probing my body. His fingertips swirled around my areolas. A moan escaped from my clenched jaws as he softly pinched my erect nipples. His bulge reacted, squirming against me. He was enjoying himself, at least. That much was obvious. Memories of Michael's wallet poking against me during his wondrous massages flitted through my mind. Had he been hard then, too?

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that, um...

you

?" I asked, wiggling my bottom for clarity.

"Uh, yeah... Sorry, I can't help it with you like this," he confessed. He couldn't help it... I beamed. How many other hard-ons had I given, I suddenly wondered. Were my breasts and I giving dozens of men erections unwittingly? Hundreds?

"It's actually kind of flattering." And scary, I added silently. His hard cock was right beneath me, pressing against me. What if he just lost control of himself and forced himself on me? Could I stop him? Would I want to?

"Oh?" His hands stopped examining me and he began to massage, to caress, or fondle. He pulled me closer against him, his broad, hairy chest against my back. His arousal throbbed beneath me. I could feel his every heartbeat through his cock... I was feeling a cock... I felt giddy.

"So how do they feel?"

"I was right," he said with a squeeze. "Very firm, very soft...they really are flawless." Flawless...

"Is that why you're so hard?" I teased.

"Maybe... But I'm not the only one," he teased, pressing against my nipples. I stifled another moan.

"It's chilly tonight?" I offered lamely.

"Uh huh... Feels pretty warm to me... I think you're turned on, too."

Too

? So I was turning him on. I mean, I could already feel that his body was reacting, but it was flattering to hear that his mind was aroused, as well. I liked the thought of him being turned on by me. I wanted to arouse him until he couldn't control himself.

"Maybe I am, but you can't hide how turned on

you

are. Not when it's that big, anyway." I reached down behind me and felt his hard cock through his trunks. His rigid shaft filled my hand. I stroked his manhood, squeezing his hardness tightly. His heartbeat pulsed against me. He groaned, a primal growl. 'Does that feel good?"

"Mhm..."

I turned around. His head was tilted back, his arms helpless at his side, offering himself up to me. I reached up the leg of his trunks. His cock awaited me. I grasped it. Michael gasped. My heart thundered in my chest. His cock felt smooth and soft, yet still solid and hard. And it was hot. I hadn't expected that. My pussy twinged with desire.

I explored further. A small tuft of hair awaited me at the base of his shaft. He shivered as my nails brushed against his inner thighs. I reached down and palmed his smooth balls.

How would he feel inside me, inside of my body, penetrating me, thrusting into me? A wave of pleasure crashed over me as my body quivered. The outline of my hand was obvious through his trunks as I continued to stroke his rock hard manhood.

He moaned again. He reached out towards me, but I pushed his hand away. I wasn't stopping. His eyes closed, his lips parted, his breathing grew heavier as he panted and his body tensed.

His cock twitched strongly, pulsating in my hand. His shaft convulsed. Something hot spilled onto my wrist. I stroked faster as he moaned loudly, his body quivering, helpless in my grip. In my hands I held his essence. I had total control over him, and all it took was having his manhood in my hands. His cock stilled, already wilting. I grinned and looked up into his happily exhausted face.

I already knew the answer before I asked it, but I wanted to hear him say it. "Did you just cum?"

His cheeks turned an adorable pink. "Uh, yeah... Sorry about that..."

"It's alright. I mean, it was sort of my fault, right?" I gave his soft dick a gentle squeeze under the water. I had made a guy orgasm... I had made him hard and then brought him to climax, made him writhe and struggle as I forced his body to surrender its semen to me.

I wanted to do it again.

"You're right about that... I just couldn't help myself."

"I was good?"

"Isn't that obvious?" he laughed, looking down at his trunks. "But you were amazing. That felt incredible." I beamed like a teacher's pet being singled out for praise. "We should probably head back to the room, though, before someone else shows up."

"Oh, right," I said, reluctantly extricating my hand from his crotch. I climbed out of the hot tub and began walking to the hotel.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Urvashi?"

I paused. I looked down at my exposed chest, my nipples hard as the warm water of the Jacuzzi evaporated into the night air. Shit... I scurried back for my wet top and picked it off the ground.

"For a second there I thought you were going to just head back topless," Michael joked.

That's an idea... It was late. The elevator was right next to the door. Everyone was probably asleep. Probably no one would see me. But they might. They might see my bare breasts. And if they do, would they be aroused? Would they hold onto that memory like a precious treasure, taking it out when alone and in need of warmth? Would they always remember the topless beauty they saw at the hotel that night? Would I become a story, told over and over by my witness to his friends, the highlight of his vacation?

"Who says I'm not?" I replied, slipping the bikini over my arm so I wouldn't drop it. Michael stared. Was that already a new bulge growing in his trunks? "Come on, let's go," I said. I turned on my heels and strode towards the hotel, praying we didn't run into any staff. Michael's footsteps followed behind. I could really get caught. I looked up at the hotel windows. Was anyone looking down on me now, watching me? Did they see me bring Michael to orgasm? My teeth tingled as we reached the door. I reached out and opened the door.

The elevators awaited us. As did a mature man, probably in his forties. He looked just like the English professor I had had a crush on last semester. His attention was on the sequentially illuminated numbers above the metal doors. He hadn't seen me yet. I could close the door and walk away.

I walked up to him, nonchalant. Michael stood a bit further back. I joined the man in his vigil. From the corner of my eye I saw him glance my way briefly, look back, and then return his gaze to me. I suppressed a smile and ignored him. I could feel him trying to watch me without being obvious, but he was

so

obvious. The elevator dinged. The three of us walked into the small confines and I pressed our button. "Which floor" I asked. "Sir? Which floor?"

He couldn't even manage to raise his eyes from my chest long enough to stammer out his floor. "Oh, uh, fifteen, please."

"Sure thing." I pressed his number and ours, pretending not to notice his stare. But my body did. I swore I could feel myself dripping into my swimsuit bottoms. My nipples could cut glass. Goosebumps covered my skin. I relished this newfound power my breasts gave me. They were like the head of Medusa: all I had to do was unveil them, and men suddenly turned to stone. Partly... I could get used to this, to being an object of desire, of veneration...

The elevator reached his floor. The doors opened. He was so lost in my chest he didn't even notice until Michael coughed.

"This is my floor. Are you, uh, staying here for a while?"

"All week," I assured him.

"Great! Hope to see you around. And, er, I'm in room 1507 if you ever want to stop by and...chat."

I glanced down. His shorts bulged outward, as obvious as his ulterior motives. "I'll keep that in mind." He left the elevator, casting back a final glance, hopefully committing me to memory for later, before the doors shut and the elevator continued to rise. I let out a deep breath and looked over at Michael, whose trunks did nothing to conceal his enjoyment of what had just transpired. "Hard again already? Guess I didn't have to worry about you being jealous."

He squirmed. "It was hot, what can I say? There's nothing sexier than a confidently nude woman."

I stepped up to him and took his hand, inserting it down the front of my bottoms. He gasped, but quickly rebounded, cupping my moist, smooth crotch. "I thought it was hot, too," I confessed. "Can you tell?" He nodded. His fingers explored, softly caressing my labia, his palm on my Mound of Venus. My knees buckled as his fingertip parted my lips, exploring me. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and buried my face against his neck, trying to stifle a moan. His fingers moved faster, sliding along my pussy. His hard cock pressed against my hip. I couldn't wait to free it, to get a good look at, to taste it...

The elevator dinged. Michael slipped his hand out of my bikini. My pussy ached at the sudden absence. I looked into his eyes. Nothing more needed to be said. I followed him to his room, half skipping to keep up with him. The halls were empty. He slid his passkey and the door opened for us. We quickly scurried in, stumbling to the floor in our haste. The door clicked in its threshold.

We were alone.

I climbed onto him, straddling his summit. His manhood throbbed against my crotch. My body craved him. My pussy hungered for his cock inside of me, for him to penetrate me, for him to-

"Fuck me," I panted. His smile and cock both grew as soon as he heard me. He growled and I shivered.

"I don't have a condom."

My heart pounded. "Are you clean?"

"Clean? Yeah."

"You promise?"

"I promise, Urvashi. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I'm on the pill. You can..." I looked away, breaking our gaze. "You can cum inside of me. It's alright." His cock pushed firmly against me. Wow. I looked back at his suddenly bashful face. "

Someone

liked the sound of that, huh?"

His cheeks reddened adorably. "I just liked hearing you say that..."

I leaned down, my bare breasts pressing against his chest, our lips millimeters apart. "You can cum inside of me," I whispered.

He growled and pushed himself up, forcing me underneath his body, his arms on either side of me. His eager cock pressed against me. I was helpless. "Let's do it," I whispered.

He smirked and stood up, frantically tugging off his swim trunks. His cock sprung free, finally revealing itself to me. I crawled over to him and reached out tentatively. I looked up at him. He nodded.

I grabbed it. Gently, at first. It was even bigger than it had felt. That thing was going to fit inside me? I could scarcely believe it. His long, thick, rigid shaft bobbed ever so slightly with each heartbeat. I ran my fingertip along it, exploring it, observing it, studying it. He had a dark ring about two-thirds of the way up his shaft. Above that, his penis turned pinker before reaching a wide, swollen head: shiny and smooth. It was suddenly clear to me just why the phallus was an object of adoration in so many cultures. I could sit here and worship it all night. It was so much more than I had imaged. It was marvelous.