A Quic Change

Should one be polite and considerate at all times or are there those occasions when one should just sit back and enjoy whatever the fates have brought them? It's an interesting moral question. I guess the real answer is that it depends on what the fates have brought.

Consider Larissa. She is a nubile young lady of age nineteen. She is quite fit and has a certain shapeliness of body. The sort of shapeliness that tends to make any male who has passed puberty to lose track of what he's doing until she's passed from sight. I, I might add, have passed the age of puberty. Larissa is a blue-eyed blonde of Scandinavian ancestry. If all Scandinavian women looked like her then the Vikings would have been mad to go raiding other places. The best women would have been right there in their homeland.

Now, while I know Larissa, it's more of a superficial knowledge. I would certainly recognise her whenever I saw her, but the reverse is not necessarily true. I have a suspicion that she'd have to be reminded of the time and place where she last saw me to remember who I was.

Personality wise Larissa was, in my humble opinion, just a teensy bit arrogant. You know the type of girl. A hoity-toity little madam who considered everyone other than her close friends to be less than the ground she walked on. She was kind, charming, and sweetness personified, when she wanted something. After she got it she forgot you. You did not exist. I couldn't tell if it was deliberate or if she genuinely did forget people if she didn't see them on a daily basis. I just knew that her stand-offishness gave me the irrits.

The reason that I mention Larissa is the simple fact that she was strolling towards me. She had not seen me at this point but this was no fault of hers. We were both at the beach and on this particular beach there were a number of groves. These small groups of trees were the perfect place for people to do a quick change, protected from evil eyes checking out their charms.

Both men and women used these groves for that purpose. The men used them because if they got changed in the open, letting the women see their dubious charms, they'd get arrested. The women simply for a bit of privacy and to keep perverts and deviates from eyeing them off as they changed.

I was strolling through the grove with the intention of getting changed. I suspect Larissa was approaching them for the same reason. You see the moral dilemma I faced? It wouldn't be my fault if Larissa undressed in front of me. It would be hers for not checking her surroundings more carefully. But – would it be the right and proper thing for me to do?

While I wrestled with this moral problem Larissa entered the grove and as soon as the trees hid her from the beach she started to disrobe. Prudent, as always, she didn't just start by stripping off her dress. She dropped her bag and bikini next to her and then whipped her panties down, apparently intending to put on the bottom half of the bikini before anything else was removed.

At this point my superior morals came to the fore and I gave a polite cough. Larissa had just stepped out of her panties and she hastily stood up straight, smoothing her dress down and looking at me like a startled sheep. (Quite a feat on her part, seeing she was so lovely.)

"How dare you sneak up on me?" she snapped at me. "Go away."

"I didn't sneak," I politely explained. "I realised that you hadn't seen me and politely coughed to bring myself to your attention. Hardly the act of someone sneaking about. Ah, why do I have to go away?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why? You told me to go away and I want to know why I should. I mean, I just got here. I didn't tell you to go away. Live and let live is my philosophy."

"Because I want to get changed. I can't get changed in front of you."

"Why not?"

She looked at me as though I was an imbecile who'd just slithered out from under a rock.

"Two reasons – you're male and you'd probably molest me if I took my dress off in front of you."

"Um, they sound like reasons why I should remain right where I am. You're supposed to be giving me reasons to go away."

"Oh, ha, ha, ha. You're as funny as a crutch. If you don't go away I'll scream."

"I bet you don't. If you did and someone came they'd find me leaning against a tree and nowhere near you. Then I'd tell them that you're currently going commando and flashed me."

"What? I did no such thing."

"Well, you know that, and I know that, but anyone else will just believe what they're told. And how are you going to prove you're not going commando without lifting your dress and showing that you are?"

Larissa gave me an absolutely filthy look but didn't say anything. Her ego just wouldn't let her be put in such a position and we both knew it. I strolled closer to her smiling.

"Tell me, do you feel embarrassed to be talking to me knowing that you're not wearing any panties and I know it or does it excite you?"

Receiving no answer I gave her a wink.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said softly. "Just checking."

Even as I was speaking I was lifting the hem of her dress, proving that I was correct about her being commando. Well, I'd already known that when I saw her take her panties down, but some things are nice to check personally. This was one of them.

I didn't get a chance to stroke her mons to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. She made a funny little sound and slapped my hands away from her dress, letting it settle down to cover her charms.

"If you dare to touch me I'll scream and the hell with whatever you might say."

"Maybe you will. Maybe you won't. If I tried to force you down to the ground I have no doubt you'd be yelling your head off. Ditto, if I tried to force you up against one of the trees. Neither of those options appeals to me, so you're relatively safe."

I could see her relaxing slightly and gave her an evil smile.

"Only relatively," I pointed out. "I am still greatly tempted to see if your skin is as smooth as it looks. I also really want to pat your bottom. I've always considered you to have a very cute little bottom, just made for caressing."

Her eyes dropped down to her groin and back up while she flushed, eyes sparking with anger.

"If you think I'm going to let you touch me. . ." she began, breaking off her words, too incensed to continue.

"I expect you would probably object if I insisted," I said, lifting her dress for another look and having my hand slapped away again. "I'll tell you what. I'll just content myself with patting your bottom. You can then count it as a win as you stopped me from doing everything I want to do."

Terrible logic, I know, but I was counting on Larissa to be too confused to pick up on it. She just wanted the whole horrible scene to be over with and having me pat her bottom wouldn't seem such a terrible price, especially if it meant I wouldn't be patting her pussy.

She didn't actually agree, that would be too much to ask, but she did stand still and keep her mouth shut when I moved slightly to the side and ran my hand up under her dress and onto her bottom. The fact that this also pulled up the front of her dress enough to expose her mons again apparently passed her by. She was concentrating on the hand gliding smoothly over her rump.

Being one of nature's gentlemen I politely pointed out her problem and suggested a solution.

"Just lean forward and put your hand on your knees," I told her.

She did so, protecting her modesty probably at the front of her mind. The fact that bent forward like that provided me with slightly easier access to her, ah, bottom, slipped by. I thoughtfully rubbed her bottom, and a nice soft bottom it was.

"That's not my bottom," Larissa pointed out, her voice sounding somewhat strained.

"It's not? Doesn't matter. It's close enough," I said, continuing my administrations. OK, so my hand had slipped down a little and was rubbing her pudenda. Not my fault. Not really. She had bent forward and standing like that she was rather exposed. It was just the natural thing to do to for my hand to follow the curves and that's where they ended up.

"Get your hand away from there," she hissed at me. It sounded as though she was trying to scream at me very quietly.

"Ah, why? It's nice and soft and warm and even, dare I say it, a little damp."

"Just take your hand away."

A couple of fingers accidentally slipped between her lips. I guess I'd been pressing too hard at just the wrong spot. She gave a gasp.

"If you don't shift your hand I swear I'll scream and to hell with any consequences."

Put like that, I moved my hand, rubbing lightly across her bottom. My other hand had been busy doing things that she wouldn't have agreed with had she known. The result of those actions were my shorts falling down. As Larissa was fussy about my hand rubbing her I'd have to try something else.

Seeing my erection was now available and she was presenting herself so nicely I pressed forward against her lips. At the same time my hands closed over her hips to help hold her steady.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing," she wailed. "Don't you dare. No. Take it out."

A little too late. Her pussy was wet and ready and when I pressed forward her lips yielded quite happily, letting me slide in and along her passage.

"Relax," I told her. "You're perfectly positioned for this, bent over the way you are. Don't worry about a thing. You won't even have to move. I'll do everything while you just stand there and enjoy the experience."

What I said was actually true. Bent over she was in just the right position and with my hands holding her in place she didn't need to worry about being knocked over. Of course, this meant that I had to move relatively slowly as she had nothing with which to brace herself. Not a problem. Slow and steady was still enjoyable.

Larissa was gasping and saying rude things to me but we both knew she wasn't going to scream for help. Too embarrassed to scream because I'd tell people she was commando meant way too embarrassed to have people come up and see her riding a cock. She made up for it by describing my antecedents, which she felt were low and depraved, and my probable future, which she forecast to be short and painful.

I just kept up a gentle thrusting while still driving in firmly enough to engage her interest. It wasn't long before I could feel her pushing against me to take me deeper, bitching the entire time. After a couple of minutes I had a request for her.

"Um, Larissa, would you be able to take your dress and bra off? I want to hold your breasts while we relax."

Geez. You'd think I'd asked her to run stark naked down the main street on a Sunday morning, shocking all the church goers.

"Ok, ok," I said soothingly. "I'll take that as a no. Don't worry about it. We can do the full strip bit the next time we get together."

A marvellous vocabulary on that girl. As she vetoed any next time I found that there were many, many, ways to say no.

Seeing she felt that way I simply shrugged and kept my nice easy fuck going. Larissa was certainly responding now, pushing back firmly to meet me, making funny little noises when she wasn't abusing me. It seemed to me that the longer I went the less the abuse and the greater the funny noises.

I kept going for a while and the abuse seemed to just dry up. Eventually I could have sworn I heard her ask me to finish it. I gave a slightly harder thrust (which was almost my undoing) and asked her to repeat what she'd said.

"Are you asking me to hurry up and finish things off?" I asked politely.

There was a bit of swearing mixed in with the answer but the gist of it was yes, she'd like me to get my act together and finish things off. Ever willing to please I did my best. Keeping a firm grip on her hips I started driving in a damn sight faster than I had been going. She'd called it at the right moment it seemed. I'd only bounced her off my cock a couple of times at the new pace and she was climaxing, a hand jammed into her mouth to stop herself screaming. I felt very much like doing the same thing as I had my own climax.

We just stood there for a few moments, both coming to terms with what had happened. Eventually she pulled away from me and swung around to face me. She looked just a tiny bit disgruntled.

"You're a rotten swine," she announced, slowly and distinctly. "That was totally uncalled for. If I never see you again it will be too soon. Now go away so I can finish getting changed."

"I've got a better idea," I told her. "I'll turn my back while you finish getting changed. That way I can keep an eye out for you in case someone comes past. You can't be too careful, you know."

I think my hair almost caught fire from the look she gave me, but she didn't argue. I turned my back and I could hear her getting changed. I guess she'd learned to trust me. All I would have to do now is use that trust to entice her into another friendly little romp. I mean, I still wanted to play with her breasts.