The following story did not really happen, although it was inspired by an actual event. I wrote it for my husband, who says he loves my lesbian fantasies.
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It is a beautiful, sunny, summer day, the kind we dream about all year. My husband and I just finished kayaking in the lake at one of our state's many metro-parks, and he is loading our boats onto our car rack when I notice a woman on the beach, kneeling on a blanket and struggling to apply suntan lotion to her back and shoulders. What I notice first is her svelte figure and the way it looks in the skimpy bathing suit she is wearing.
We kayak at this lake often during the summer months, and I rarely ogle the swimmers and sun-bathers on the beach; however, most of them wear more modest swimsuits, and this woman fills her scant two-piece so alluringly, I immediately finish undressing her with my eyes.
To be fair, one eye is sufficient to remove the thin strings and meager fabric covering her very lubricious flesh; my other eye is already busy imagining what I will do with that flesh once it is undressed!
From my vantage point in the parking lot, this woman is stunningly beautiful: wavy sun-bleached blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail on top of her head, a luminous yellow thong bikini tied in little bows at her hips, neck, and between her shoulder blades, and a figure that immediately makes my tongue stiff. I try to avoid my husband's attention as I gawk at her through the dark lenses of my sunglasses and imagine my hands holding her firm backside as I bury my face between her smooth legs.
She obviously works out.
I pleasure myself with a finger against the moist crotch of my gym shorts as my breathing quickens.
I bet she tastes as sweet as a coconut!
Involuntarily, a gasp escapes my lips, and my husband turns from his task and looks at me.
Because of my petite stature, I am not much help when it is time to load our kayaks onto our roof rack, so I excuse myself and walk onto the sand toward the object of my lustful desires while my husband continues to secure our kayaks for the short ride home.
The woman is facing the lake, with her back to me, as she applies suntan lotion to her shoulders. I step carefully between the towels and blankets of the swimmers and sun-bathers populating the beach, and when I am nearly beside the woman, I ask casually, "Need a hand?"
She turns her head to look at me with her alluring brown eyes and voluptuous lips, smiles a little self-consciously, and says, "Thanks, that would be great," handing me her bottle of suntan lotion.
As our hands touch briefly, goose-flesh covers my body and I feel momentarily light-headed.
I want this woman!
I squirt out a palmful of lotion, rub my hands together, and begin applying the sun-warmed liquid onto her soft shoulders and back as she lowers her chin toward her chest. I work my way up to her supple neck and down to the small of her back, then add more lotion to my hands and instruct her to lie face down on her blanket, facing the parking lot. I kneel on her blanket beside her and apply lotion to her lower back and hips, down to the yellow string holding her bikini together, then start on her thighs. When she does not seem bothered by my touching her there, I work my fingers slowly toward her inner thighs and then onto her sexy backside.
It is as firm as I imagined!
I slip one finger inside of the thong and slide it up and down her cleft, my heart pounding almost audibly as my level of excitement rises.
She squirms slightly and gasps as I touch her there, but gives no indication that I should stop.
I knead and massage her amazing backside, then straddle her legs, facing the lake, and rub suntan lotion onto her calves, heels, and the soft soles of her feet, provocatively fingering the spaces between her sexy toes.
