We half-fell into the apartment, clutching two bags of shopping. Fresh local bread, cheeses, fresh salads from the street market, yoghurt, fruit, baklava, cold white wine, and bottled beer. Oh, and she'd persuaded me to get her a pair of shoes in the market. They were only 10 Euros and had ridiculously high heels. They would probably break on their first outing, but Felicity had countered "Who said anything about going out in them?" I also insisted on getting her a small soft leather bag. "Just big enough for a spare pair of panties or two," she'd quipped.
I was exhausted! The combination of the previous day, the excitement of having a very energetic young lady constantly around me, the ever-present arousal I elected to subject my body to. I flopped on the sofa.
Felicity cracked open two beers and handed me one. "Happy?"
"Yes Felicity, delighted."
"I'm sorry if I've somewhat dive-bombed into your life. I hope I haven't spoiled your holiday."
"Anything but ... sweetie."
She looked out of the window for a while and I checked my phone messages. Nothing important that couldn't wait.
Felicity turned and leaned back on the tall window, palms against the cold glass and one leg bent at the knee. She'd kicked off her trainers and she looked awesomely sexy; her puffy nipples pressed against the stretchy crop-top making themselves very obvious. Her skirt rode up to show off acres of long smooth thigh. She had her head dropped forward, so to look at me she had to raise her big blue eyes under her lids which I found mesmerising. Her bare midriff was flat, lean, and tight. She put the tip of one finger in her mouth and bit on it gently then suggested: "Fashion show?"
I almost missed what she said. My mind was racing and I was so turned on even just from looking at her standing like that. She carried the sensuality of a confident woman in her mid-to-late-twenties but the body of a teenager 10 years younger. Or so. My pussy was aching and throbbing. Juices quietly oozed from its inner folds and my lack of underwear came all the more pertinent as I felt my wetness on the upper thighs. My nipples were hard and when I moved, they brushed against the cotton fabric of my dress, arousing them, and me, to greater heights. What I really wanted to do was to slide out of my dress, lift one leg onto the back of the sofa, exposing my swollen pussy to Felicity, and finger myself as near to a crashing orgasm as my self-control allowed. Would Felicity find it strange, that I love to edge myself? To deny myself much-needed orgasms. To take myself to the brink then shudder and shake as I hold back? Or, better still, to have her lick and stroke and finger-fuck me until I was begging to cum but for her to follow my instructions and hold me just on the edge. Would she? Could she?
"Julia, you OK?"
"Oh, sorry, I was just lost in the moment."
"Do I excite you, Julia?"
"Yes, Flix, you do. Very much so. Why?"
"Cos you excite me too. I want you to know that. I love how you look at me, and I wonder what you're thinking."
"You'll learn baby."
"Don't leave it too long. I can't wait"
"I can."
"What does that mean?"
"You'll find out"
"You're mysterious, Julia. I like that."
"What did you say just now?"
"Fashion Show. So you get to look at me more, and I get to show myself off. We have a win-win I think?"
"Perfect. You go get changed, and I'll slip on something nice."
My 'something nice' was a cream satin-silk half-cup bra that lifted and presented my boobs to perfection, showing plenty of smooth rounded flesh whilst hiding all the important bits. Matching knickers - the same description could be applied to them too. For modesty I thew on a contrasting navy-blue silk robe that reached the floor but exposed my legs when it swished as I walked.
A voice called from the other bedroom. "Ready?"
"Yes sweetie, I have a runway-side seat."
Felicity appeared at the bedroom door and peeped out sheepishly. " I hope you like it."
"Show me then!" I insisted.
My jaw dropped as she moved slowly into view. She was wearing skin-tight silver stretch leggings that stopped well above her ankles and which clung tenaciously to the alluring curve of her perfect bum-cheeks. In fact, I'd say they improved her shape, if that was at all possible. But the real showstopper was her miniscule top. In reality it was little more than a narrow triangle of neon pink very thin cotton tee-shirt fabric. The top corner was attached to the centre of a mock-jewelled choker around her long neck. Spaghetti-thin tie-cords started from the two other corners, somewhere near the bottom of her ribcage, and she had them tied in a big bow in the small of her back. It left very little to the imagination. Her back was almost totally bare, and from the front the material struggled unsuccessfully to conceal her small breasts. An enticing glimpse of side-boob escaped from each side and her pokey nipples competed for attention through the thin fabric which only just covered her areole. It probably cost about 7 Euros and on a lot of girls it would just look cheap and trashy, but on Felicity it looked stunning, and I told her so.
"I thought this outfit would look good for strolling in the late-afternoon, along the back of the beach," she suggested. "On our way to get cocktails."
I concurred with her idea, knowing full well who'd be buying the cocktails. But it'd be worth it, just to watch people watching her, and knowing she's with me. And knowing I'd be as aroused then as I was now.
"Good choice baby. You look fabulous. Give me a twirl."
She pirouetted, and pushed out her bum. "Can you see I'm wearing a thong under these? I tried them without and it was a bit scratchy." She pulled a grouchy face.
"No baby. I'd never have known."
"Excellent!" she exclaimed, and disappeared, only calling back: "Don't go away!"
As if ...
Watching Felicity pose, preen and pout in that top and leggings had roused a deeper desire in me and I knew I had to have her. My body felt tense and alive. My nipples here hard and nagging to escape from the confines of my satin bra. My whole pussy was by now throbbing in anticipation. I could feel how wet I'd made my knickers with my juices and I could only imagine what my labia would be looking like now. And, unsurprisingly, my clit was aching to be touched. I was reaching the level of arousal where I was beginning to lose the ability to think straight. I weighed up the options. If I don't touch myself right now, I could miss the opportunity once Felicity reappears. But that would leave me hovering at this just-bearable level of desire and need. If I do touch myself, I risk either coming, which would be contrary to all my plans, so not an option, or taking myself to an even higher level of desperation which, pleasurable in itself, might perplex Felicity.
Barely able to control myself, the usual thought crept into my mind. 'Go on Julia, just one won't hurt. Just one little touch, that's all, your poor pussy needs it.'
In my weakness I opened my robe and closed my eyes. I grasped one breast through my bra and squeezed. Mmm, that felt so good and the nipple throbbed in appreciation. I slid my other hand down over my flat stomach and inside my silk knickers. Positioning my middle finger along the length of my slit, I began to stroke upwards. I shuddered at just that faintest touch and pulled my hand away, holding it just a centimetre or two above my mound, where I could feel the heat rising.
"Julia?"
I came back to reality with a jolt. Felicity was standing barely a metre away from me. She was wearing a very tight yet simple tube dress, in shimmery black. It started just above her titties and stopped perhaps a third of the way down her thighs. Quite simple, yes, but very, very sexy. She looked taller, and I concluded she must be wearing the cheap shoes we picked up in the market. Easily five-inch heels. But I couldn't see them as I was leaning back on the sofa, my navy-blue robe wide open, my legs spread wide apart like a whore, one hand still cupping my boob. How long she'd been there I could not guess. What had she seen?
"Are you OK?" she continued.
What could I say? It was pretty obvious what I'd been doing. "I'm fine thanks, Flix, totally fine. Just, well, relaxing."
"You don't look very relaxed to me," she observed, with a smile. "Don't worry about it. We all do it, don't we."
"I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you Felicity ..."
"Flix. Flix; call me Flix, Please Julia. I like it when you use that name. Will you? Always? Only my mother calls me Felicity. It's a stupid, posh, sensible name, like my stupid posh sensible boring horrible mother who gave it to me. It just isn't me."
"OK, it's Flix. As I was saying, I'm sorry. You must think I'm some kind of slut."
"Not at all. I think you're a beautiful, kind, attractive, sensual woman, all the things 'she' isn't, and ... I like you very much." But then she looked down and seemed shocked. Pointing at the huge wet patch on my knickers, she gasped: "Fuck, Julia. Did I do that to you?"
"Flix, you too are very attractive. It's not all down to you, but yes, watching you, just being with you, excites me. I've been turned on and wet all day, except you've probably noticed anyway."
"Why, thank you. Wow, phew, that's very flattering. Oh, and for the record, I love watching you too."
"I think I worked that one out too," I replied.
Felicity smiled widely so I pressed her on the subject. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, fire away."
"Flix, my lovely, how long were you in my bedroom for in the night?"
Felicity looked shocked and awkward. "I didn't think you knew."
"I just saw you in the half-light, looking at me."
