Anita's World S1 E01: the Beginning

Anita's World, Season 1, Episode 1: The Beginning

Vanessa and Bernd meet Tom and Anita

By Phiro Epsilon

Hi,

This is the first episode of a saga about the every-day and erotic adventures of two families and the people associated with them.

The people in this series are Germans, and I'm German, too. If their language sounds too stilted, I'm open to improvement suggestions.

All persons involved in sexual acts in this series are of legal age.

In the light of recent events: Copyright© 2019 Phiro Epsilon Posting this story, in whole or in part, on another web platform or under another name is not permitted.

Bernd

Finally, it had become official. I was fired. My company, once one of the biggest producer of coffeemakers in Germany, had been sold, and the first decision of the new owners was to close down the research department, which I had headed until now.

Only the compensation I was entitled to after two decades of loyal work sweetened the situation for me—at least a little.

After I had said my final good-byes to my colleagues, I drove home. I don't remember much about that journey because everything was tumbling around in my mind. Should I start up a business for myself? Should I apply for a job in one of the large corporations or would I better fit into the mid-tier industry?

Anyhow, I had to break the news to Vanessa gently. I

should

have told her much earlier, but our relationship had cooled down somewhat during the last years since both of our sons had left home.

Perhaps we should go on an extended vacation first and try to straighten out our marriage before I'd start looking for a new job; the six digits on the check in my pocket agreed with me in that regard.

I parked my car in the garage of our house, which had become rather empty when our boys had left, and strode into the living room.

"Hi, Vanessa," I said. "We need to talk."

I froze when I noticed that I obviously had come home at the wrong time.

My wife lay—completely bare—on the couch and her panting fueled my suspicion that I just inadvertently had interrupted something. The big buzzing dildo in her pussy added evidence to the same fact, as well as the movie playing on our fifty-inch-TV. It was a porn flick showing a woman being penetrated front and aft by two men.

I think my face didn't show many brains at that moment.

Vanessa flinched, ripped the dildo out of her body and switched off the TV.

"H-h-hi, Bernd," she stuttered, her face flushed purple. "I ... um ..."

"You don't need to explain," I said, obviously a little more snappishly than intended, because Vanessa flinched again. "Hey," I soothed her. "No offense intended. If you need that, go on."

"I ... um ..."

"You did say that already." I turned around and walked into the kitchen. My wife masturbating did not really baffle me. Well, I did the same thing from time to time. My long evenings at the job had her already being asleep when I came home. And normally, she was still sleeping when I was on my way out in the morning.

She was a gym teacher, but with all the shortages in education budgets, she had lost her regular job long ago. At the moment, she was substituting for sickness or pregnancy leaves from time to time.

I knew she was unsatisfied with the situation, but I couldn't do anything against it. Or could I? At least on short sight?

I got me a mug of coffee, walked into my den and switched on the computer. Then I took my cell phone and pushed a button.

"¿Si?"

"¡Ola, Antonio! ¿Qué pasa?"

"¡Ola, Señor Bernd! Mui Bene. Can I do something for you?"

"Antonio, we're in desperate need of a vacation. Will our bungalow be occupied in the coming weeks?"

I heard Vanessa entering the den and audibly inhaling in when hearing the last sentence.

"¡No del todo! You know the turistas will not arrive long before Christmas."

"¡Bien! Wait a sec." I clicked through a couple of websites, booking a flight for two—one-way for now.

"We'll arrive on Saturday," I continued. "If you can cancel the people coming for Christmas, do that."

"Entendido, Señor Bernd. I'll prepare everything."

"A dios, Antonio."

I dropped the cell phone on the desk and took the hand of Vanessa, who had approached me in the meantime. Without a word, I pulled her into my lap and kissed her lips.

"Bernd," she gasped. "A vacation? For the two of us? I thought— And what about your job?"

My unoccupied hand slipped into the gaping opening of the bathrobe she'd donned quickly. When my fingertips touched her hard nipple, she sighed.

"For once," I said, while my hand slid deeper over her belly, "I've been fired."

I don't know if her gasp was caused by my statement or by the fact that my finger had found her clit. Anyway, it was stronger than the first one.

"And second, we

really

need to talk. It won't do that you get a heart attack because I catch you—um—playing."

She perhaps wanted to say something at that moment, but my finger just slid into her hot and wet opening, and her most likely well thought-out discussion point morphed into wordless moaning.

"But, but," she gasped, "Ahhh! The money, the flight— Ohhh!"

"No problem." I pointed to the check I'd thrown onto the desk.

Her eyes found the number on the paper, and my finger found the rough place in her vagina. She stopped breathing and started trembling all over. I moved my finger, and her pelvis flinched in the same rhythm.

I looked at her. "I know," I said, "that sex doesn't solve problems." Her eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolled into her head, and her body stiffened. "However, solving problems

with

sex is certainly better than without."

Vanessa

To say I was shocked when Bernd came home early, catching me red-handed and then telling me the news while fondling my—um—vagina is a kind of a huge understatement. His fingers in my—um—channel made me climax harder than ever.

Of course, our problems didn't just dissolve, but at least we started sleeping with each other again and talked some—albeit not about our

real

problems.

Three days later we left the plane on Fuerteventura and drove a rented off-roader to our domicile. We'd owned the bungalow in the southwestern corner of the island on the peninsula of

Jandí

a

for over a decade. The place was far from the tourist centers, and the "street" would have been called a dirt road in Germany. Nevertheless, there were a lot of backpackers renting the house for a week or two while hiking along the rough slopes of the national park.

Antonio and his wife Theresa lived some kilometers away in the small settlement of

Cofete

and took care of the house in our absence. In the beginning, when our twins were attending the school and living at home, we'd been here several times during the holidays.

The decline of the company Bernd had been working for all his life had made most of his colleagues quit looking for a new job before the shit hit the fan, while he gave up vacations and free time to save his job.

Well, not to quit, and instead of being fired at last had given him that half million of compensation. For me, it was by far not an equivalent substitute. I'd never thought Bernd and I could grow so far apart. To be honest, I had already toyed with the idea of divorce.

And to be

completely

honest, I wasn't sure that we could get together again. He was constantly beating around the bush, but it sounded to me as if he wanted to put the money into starting his own company. And that would have him occupied twenty-four hours seven days a week and not only eighteen on six as before.

In the last few days, I'd tried several times to bring up the conversation, but he immediately closed up every time. Well, I was determined to use this holiday for a debate. And if I had to tie him to the bed to get answers, I'd do it—figuratively, of course. Although ...

The northwestern coast of Jandía is wild; barren and sparsely populated. There are almost no beaches, and the houses are located far apart from each other. And by that, I mean that the next house can really only be seen as not much more than a point on the horizon.

Moreover, at least half of them around ours were only half built. The mandatory stop of construction in 2001 had struck enormously. In some places, there were cranes standing around that hadn't moved since we had been here for the first time.

So I was all the more surprised that our "closest" neighbor had apparently obtained a construction permit and had finished building his villa. And also energy-conscious. The roof was covered with sun tiles, and above on the mountain slope, a windmill was turning.

"Sí, Señora Vanessa," Antonio answered my question. "They're Alemanes, too. A married couple your own age. They've been here since the beginning of November."

Um, too young for pensioners, too old for drop-outs, too long here to be tourists. Well, at that distance, we might occasionally see their car, but not much more.

*

"Bye, darling," I said the next morning, "I'm leaving for a walk."

Bernd was still lying in the bed; vacation for him primarily meant sleeping in. Furthermore, he was more interested in freshening up his body in a gym than "taking part in this stupid pole swinging".

So, I didn't even ask if he wanted to accompany me before leaving.

Fuerteventura is a paradise in the original sense. Here on Jandía, you can always meet people—mainly Germans—who walk or cycle bare naked.

I hadn't been a naturist before that vacation but I wanted to try it at least once. So apart from my walking poles, I only wore sneakers, a baseball cap, a small backpack, and a sports bra. My boobs were firm enough for my age but too big to leave them bobbing around when walking.

After using a factor fifty sunblock on all of my skin— I was proud that I was still flexible enough to get to my back—I walked down the graveled path from our house to the "main road" and then continued along.

Just as I was about to pass the road leading up to our neighbors' home, I suddenly thought I was looking in a mirror.

The woman arriving down from the mansion wore walking poles, sneakers, a baseball cap, a small backpack, and a sports bra.

Well, my hair is dark and she was a strawberry blonde. I hadn't got much sun during the last summer, so I was as pale as you would expect from a newcomer on the Canary Islands, while her body was covered in freckles.

Nevertheless, our similarity in "clothing" and equipment was so striking that I couldn't stop staring. She stared back, then smiled, and when we were just a couple of steps apart she burst into laughter.

It was so contagious that I also stopped and started giggling.

"I can't believe it," she gasped. "Are we on Candid Camera?"

"Nope," I answered. "They don't show nude people."

She extended a hand. "Name's Anita. My husband and I own the house up there."

I took her hand and shook it. Her grasp was surprisingly strong. Mine as well, her face told me. "Vanessa. I already thought so. My husband and I are your neighbors next door."

"Do you know your way around here? This is our first time here, and I keep getting lost without my GPS."

"It's been a few years already—" My face had to reflect the pain, for she raised her eyebrows "—but nothing changes here. Almost nothing," I added with a nod to her house.

She nodded back. "Tom bought the shell a few years ago and now that we're married—" She raised her hand, sporting a simple white ring "—he had it finished. We're still settling in."

"Are you going to live here?"

She shrugged. "At least during the winter. I hate the filthy weather in Germany. But Tom's daughter studies there, and we want to spend the summer with her."

She took a deep breath. "But enough blabbering for now. I wanted to move my body."

"Well ..." I pointed forward. "Back there, the path leads down to the sea."

Bernd

Half asleep, I had noticed Vanessa leaving for a walk. Now, two hours later, I felt bored. Running around aimlessly is absolutely not my sport, but I still had packed a pair of poles without telling Vanessa about it.

Fortunately, I had to admit, because the two mountain bikes here in the house were in a pitiful condition. I would have liked to fix them myself, but one of the tenants must have taken all the tools with them. So, I called Antonio and asked him to take the two bikes to Morro Jable for repair and to get a new set of tools.

Then I took out the poles, put on my sports clothes and started. I still had a rough idea where we used to walk around. I'd walk in that direction for half an hour and then turn back if I hadn't found her until then.

* * *

"Oh, you poor thing," I heard an unknown female voice throbbing through my skull.

"Bernd, can you hear me?" another voice chimed in, which sounded like my wife's.

"Leave him lying," the first one responded. "Stupid people should be punished."

"I..." I tried to get up, but a pair of hands pushed me down again.

"Stay down," Vanessa sternly said. "You're most likely dehydrated. Here, have some water."

"What..." A bottle at my lips kept me from talking. I sucked and swallowed, my head tried a samba rhythm. "I was just..."

"...running around with no cap, no water and probably after a hearty breakfast with too much salt." That was that other woman again. Who the hell was that?

"Ooooh, my head." I slowly opened my eyes and looked at a naked pussy just a couple of inches from my eyes. Not my wife's. I opened my eyes wide. "How..."

"His first look. Vanessa, you've been right. Your Bernd is a Peeping Tom."

"Give me a break, Anita. The way you're crouching there, he couldn't even look anywhere else. Besides, I didn't say he was a Peeping Tom. Only that he got all hot when he caught me masturbating."

I tried to look up at the freckle-covered body of the other woman. Who was that Anita, with whom Vanessa was discussing intimate details?

I looked into her face and suddenly couldn't be angry with my wife anymore. I'd probably share my secrets with that happy laugh as well.

Slowly I raised myself to my elbows. Vanessa slipped behind me and helped me sit up straight. "Thank you," I said. "Both of you. I must have awfully embarrassed myself."

"I don't know," Anita said, while Vanessa reached for my wrist. "To meet a man in his weakest hour means it can only get better from now on."

"Have another drink," Vanessa said. "Your pulse is slowly getting stronger."

"Whew," Anita sighed. "I was beginning to fear we had to drag him up the mountain."

Involuntarily I looked at her arms. They were almost as muscular as Vanessa's. Her whole physique was very similar.

"I didn't even know," I joked, "how I could have thanked you."

Her bright blue eyes lit up. "Just as with your wife," she said laughing.

Shit, she shouldn't have said that. In one fell swoop, my shorts got tight.

"I...", I croaked. Then I took another sip of water. "I was thinking of something harmless. Dinner, for example. As a threesome, of course," I added hectically as I realized how that had to sound.

"I don't know if Tom would agree," Vanessa threw in.

Tom?

"Oh, I can handle that. For this, he'll go out with us both, and your Bernd must jerk off alone."

"Stop, stop," I shouted. That was getting really slippery. "You're married?"

"Antonio told you," Vanessa said.

Oh, "

les

Alemanes

" from next door.

"Good." I raised my hands. "Back to square one. We would like to invite you both to dinner."

"But not today," Vanessa said. "We're already invited to Tom and Anita's."

"And wear something fancy to take off," Anita added her two cents.

Huh?

Vanessa

Somehow the whole thing with Bernd was awfully embarrassing for me. Even though Anita assured me that nobody had ever managed to stand up to her in such a banter, not even her Tom.

Bernd was silent on the whole way back to the house, taking a sip of water from time to time. I could see something going on in his head.

We had been invited to dinner by naturists who apparently didn't mince their words when it came to sex. Anita had told me before how open they were talking.

Caught masturbating? In their family that would have been only a prelude to sex, no embarrassing sneaking out of the room and putting on a bathrobe.

Sex, which she obviously enjoyed with her stepdaughter as much as with her husband—or both together. Although none of them crossed the border to incest, I suddenly became very hot. Of all the porn I watched secretly at home, the most exciting were those where a woman was fucked by two men. And even if they looked similar, my thoughts had always moved in a very forbidden direction.

Well, I guessed there wouldn't be any sex tonight... for sure?

Oh shit. I hope not.

Or did I hope?

In any case, Anita's invitation was serious. At my request, she had also called her husband and let me talk to Tom myself. Which might have been a mistake, because his voice sounded really sexy on the phone.

And then her sentence with "something fancy to take off." O. My. God. The pictures in my head haven't let me settle down all day.

I put Bernd to bed, pulled down his pants and sat down on his cock. Then I asked him, "What fancy clothes am I supposed to take off?" and feared he was going to drill through me.

I was still wearing the sports bra and I was afraid he might rip it up. At the last moment, I pulled it over my head and Bernd buried his face in my breasts.

I came and came and came, at least I had a feeling. When I finally came to again, I lay next to Bernd and had my hand on his cock. Even though his sperm dripped out of me, he was still stiff.

And then I started thinking again. About us, about Anita and her husband, about her openness, about her body. My free hand stole between my legs and I began to stroke myself. Hey, I should have been exhausted, and yet...

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because when Bernd kissed me awake, the sun was already setting. "I've put something out for you to take off," he mumbled in my ear and I was wide awake.

I hadn't brought a lot of clothes because I wasn't planning on going out. You can't really do that here, because the way over the mountains at night is quite dangerous.

There are also a lot of boutiques on the island, and Bernd had promised to accompany me on a long shopping spree at

his

expense. Well, we didn't get a chance to do that until now.

But what Bernd "put out" for me took my breath away in the first moment. It was actually just a black tabard that I could combine with other dresses to enhance their effect.

It was sleeveless, not very wide neckline, and went down over my knee. Actually, very conservative... if he hadn't been semi-transparent. I couldn't leave the house wearing that and nothing else. The black lace underwear, which Bernd had put out for me, was clearly visible through the fabric in the light of the ceiling lamp. On the other hand, ... I still had the body. My stomach was... thanks to many hours of gymnastics... still flat enough that I could say in good conscience: "Wow! You look good!"

Besides, it was only a few steps to the car and then back into the house. I guessed we'd spend the evening

en

nature

anyway.

Black half-height sandals with it, and I was done.

Yeah, I could just walk in it. I took the few steps to the living room, leaned against the doorway and asked, "Will you take me with you like this?"

Bernd's expression was divine. He actually knew what I was going to wear but hadn't considered the effect. Perhaps he hadn't realized before that the bra had been cut out very generously to fit under my little black dress. I had pulled it down a little further, and now my nipples were peeking almost over the edge. Why not go the whole nine yards?