• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Exhibitionist & Voyeur
  • /
  • Villa V

Villa V

The summer day was giving way to a calm summer night and, after the dinner dishes had been cleared, we were sitting in our traveling companions' villa. The back of the villa was a wall of sliding glass doors that opened onto a private pool deck surrounded by thick, tropical hedges. The foliage surrounding the villa afforded the ultimate in privacy -- even from nearby villas on either side. Beyond the pool lay the expanse of ocean, extending from horizon to horizon, farther than the eye could see.

The four of us sat in the living room and chatted softly, mostly small talk about nothing special, nothing of consequence. The mood was serene... tranquil.

Hip trance music played softly in the background.

First, I noticed my wife's left foot at the end of her crossed legs -- how the bright orange sandal dangled nervously from her pretty little painted toes. It was a clue. Her face and toes both pointed away from me, out to sea, suggesting a defensive posture, but it was clear that she was pondering something essential. Nervous energy flowed through her body, initially expressing itself with a simple wiggle of the toes that loosened the sandal from its grasp, then an arched foot, followed by a wag of the ankle that kept time with a cadenced up-and-down motion. Her sandal hung loose, held in place mystically by only a toe, so the lovely leather footwear balanced in mid-air as if by some mysterious marionette or expert trapeze artist.

Further up, the graceful curve of my wife's thin ankle ascended to a perfectly toned calf. The bend of her knee gave way to supple, suntanned legs that disappeared beneath the slit of her silken, tropical skirt. As one leg on top of the other moved back and forth, I imagined the veiled parts of my wife's oiled thighs that awaited my gentle touch.

Noticing the uptick in the movement of her foot, I could sense that Elle was intently concentrating on a single, focused thought -- a recollection. Her eyes showed the vacant, telltale stare of a curious, distant impulse that was rolling around in her head.

I stood up, walked several steps across the room and took the empty cocktail glass from Elle's raised hand.

"Let me freshen that up for you," I said softly.

She looked up, tucked a golden strand of hair behind one ear and smiled at me. Her bright blue eyes and full lips were poetic.

On the other side of the coffee table, Jana and Will reclined in their own chairs and watched the early stages of the sunset as the brilliant orange-red orb began its plunge into the glassy, blue Caribbean.

"Can I get you two anything?" I asked, as I made my way into the villa's small kitchen.

"How about another Pink Panther?" Jana chirped happily. Her voice was lyrical.

"One more glass of wine for me," Will replied, his voice gravelly.

My wife and friends sat quietly while I busied myself with shakers, bottles and glasses. Within a moment, I returned with a tray of delicious drinks.

"For you, my dear," I said.

Elle retrieved a stiff margarita, mixed just the way she liked it. In show of appreciation, she wore a cute little grin on her face.

"And for you," I added, tilting the tray toward Jana and Will as they, too, reclaimed their drinks.

"Thank you," Jana whispered, Spanish-black bangs veiling her healthy, weathered face and smoldering eyes.

"My pleasure," I responded.

It had been a long, fun-filled day and the sun and carefree mood of our vacation were having their predictable effect on all of us. It was like a fog of sleepy, summer hallucinogens had drifted into the room.

When I took my seat, I noticed again that the trance-like glare had returned to my wife's face. This time, however, I could tell that, whatever had been perplexing her before, she finally had reached a decision. Her personality returned to the room. She grinned mischievously at me.

The foot at the end of her crossed legs stopped its motion and she slowly uncrossed her legs, all the while balancing the sandal on the tip of her toes. She gently placed the sandal on the wooden floor directly in front of her and then, continuing the graceful arc of her foot, she carefully scooted it out of the way to her left. As she did so, her legs opened gradually, little by little but deliberately, until her left foot came to a rest twelve inches or so outside the line of her left hip. Even from my chair, seated to her left, I could catch a glimpse of her silken, hot pink panties. Seated directly across from Elle, however, I could tell that Jana and Will could see even more,... more than just a glimpse of my wife's exposed underwear.

Will sat up straight like a hunting dog spying his quarry. Jana smiled at Elle. She wondered if Elle's movements were premeditated. If not, she wanted to do what every polite girlfriend would do -- say "sweetheart" and give a downward glance as a tip that something private was showing. Thinking better of it though, Jana settled on being a little amused that her friend was being so casually provocative. After all, we were at the beach and, earlier during the day, had seen one another in bikinis and bathing suits.

Without pretense, Elle kept her left foot where it stopped. In fact, she slid her right foot to her right several degrees, opening herself up still more.

"I've been thinking," Elle broke the silence, her legs opened wide, but looking away as if talking to no one. "Reminiscing, really. About my first real boyfriend, when I was in college. He had been a successful athlete. Track and field, mainly. I recall that he finished second place in the conference during his junior year in the triathlon. That's shortly after I met him. Have I told you about him?" she asked, looking for the first time directly at Will and Jana while keeping her legs opened.

"What was his name?" Jana asked.

"Robbie. Robbie Stavros," Elle answered.

"No, I don't believe I've heard this story," replied Jana. "Do tell."

"He blew out his knee the summer before his senior year and that brought his sports career to an unceremonious end. He didn't run his senior year and we broke up before he graduated."

As she spoke, Elle appeared to squirm in her seat. It dawned on me that she must have been thinking about this old boyfriend for most of the night. The thought crossed my mind that, over the years, she may have thought about him more often than I could imagine.

"Did I say that Robbie was two years older than I was? I think he moved up north after he graduated, maybe Chicago. Last I heard he ended up working as a marketing executive at a large New York firm."

Elle took a long sip from her drink.

"He was like a Greek god," she confessed.

"There it was," I thought.

"Tall, penetrating dark eyes, broad shouldered," she continued. Her gaze searched her imprinted past for this strongest of memories.

"Don't get the wrong idea. He really wasn't a jock," she continued. "He hung out more with the artsy crowd, but he certainly was the fittest boy in that small circle of friends. He could run like the wind,... like Achilles. Until he got injured, that is."

Elle took another distant sip. I could tell that the story was building, although circuitously, to an important point for her.

As the words trickled from her mouth, her body was telling a parallel story. She continued to fidget, almost imperceptibly at first. But the longer she spoke, the more noticeable her movements became, to the point that she seemed, almost unconsciously, to be sliding up her skirt -- like a snake shedding its skin. From the flushed look on her face and neck, I knew my wife already was getting excited. The story of this boy excited her.

Watching her aroused me.

"During rehab, he really was indisposed. I mean, due to the severity of his injury, he was confined to bed for a long time. At least that's the way they did it back then."

My wife's lips drank from the tall glass in her left hand while her right hand traced a delicate line from the arm of the chair, to her kneecap, to the inside of her knee. By this time, her skirt had rolled up her legs. The entire length of her gorgeous long legs was uncovered.

"We never had sex, although I wanted to. Geez, did I want to. We both thought we were too young. Or maybe we were just scared,... kept our adolescent desires held in check because of our religious upbringings,... but I can't describe how much I wanted him."

The fingernails of Elle's right hand drifted up her thigh.

"I thought about him every night," Elle murmured.

I knew that when she said she "thought" about him every night, she meant something else. Much the same way I "thought" about girls, too, at bedtime when I was in college.

I glanced over at Will and Jana. They were locked onto Elle's recital as if listening to a sage relay some ancient story from ages past. It wasn't so much the words that my wife spoke as it was the combination of words and her body language. Her performance was captivating and, unsurprisingly, Will's eyes didn't leave my wife's thighs, not even when he took a mouthful of ruby red wine. He adjusted the growing bulge in his pants.

"You were what? A college sophomore? And you didn't do anything?" Jana chided in disbelief.

"No, I didn't say that, exactly," Elle continued. "We had kissed, he was a great French kisser, and petted, mostly outside the clothes, but nothing more,... at least not at that time."

"Go on," Jana coaxed Elle, sensing that Elle was just about to get to the good part.

"A day or so after he was injured was the first time anything more happened. I went to his hospital room late one evening," she relished the story, telling it in whispered, hot and bothered tones as if she was confessing it to a girlfriend tucked away in an upper bunk bed at summer camp. "It was after visitation hours were over, but it was a small college town and my mom worked there, so I pretty much could come and go as I pleased. I snuck into my boyfriend's hospital room, he was asleep at the time, and I pulled a metal armchair into the corner behind a privacy curtain. I situated the chair behind the curtain so that, if anyone came to the door, they couldn't see me."

Elle took a deep drink. Her eyes jittered as if she had entered REM sleep, but she was fully awake. She visualized the hospital room as if she was still there. Her fingernails continued to explore the length of her inner thigh. As her legs swayed back and forth, I noticed a lusty spot had begun to show through her dainty pink underwear. Will and Jana noticed it, too.

"When I went to the hospital that night, I wore a short white skirt with sneakers. I really was so naive, but I didn't wear any panties, at least not that night. I had never done that before, never gone out in public without wearing any panties. But night after night, for weeks on end when I went to bed, I...," she paused, "I played with myself while fantasizing about this hunky boy."

I could see my wife's heart beat race in her lovely chest. She was flushed.

"I dreamt of playing with myself in front of him," she continued, "and it had become the most important thing to me. I wanted to expose myself to him. After several weeks, the fantasy was so powerful I simply couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. I was consumed by the idea of him,... or rather the idea of me masturbating in front of him,... his eyes on me,... the desire that that this would create,... how he would want to rip my clothes off and take me right then and there if I exposed myself to him. And so, as he slept, I had my fantasy, only this time he was actually in the room. And so, in the darkened corner of my boyfriend's hospital room, with him asleep in the bed just a few feet away from me, I parted my legs,..."

Lost in the moment, my wife scooted onto her tip-toes and parted her legs even more.

"...and right there in my boyfriend's hospital room, my innocent, little fingers traveled the length of my legs to find, Mmmm, their familiar place."

And, with that, in front of Will, Jana and me, my wife slipped the index finger and middle finger of her right hand beneath the elastic band of her panties and her fingers found their home once again. The gusset of her panties pulled to one side, I could see her fingers glide in effortlessly. Her pussy yawned open wide to accept a touch that it obviously had been waiting for all night, if not much, much longer.

Elle's head rolled back and she buried her head in the back of her seat as she began to finger herself. With her other hand, she pulled down her strapless top and began massaging her breasts. Lost in her teenage fantasy, it was as if no one else was in the room and she began to work her fingers over her clit and in and out of her dripping wet pussy. Even from the angle of my view, I could see her slit open hungrily to accept each smooth stroke and close tight around her fingers each time she pushed them in.

"My boyfriend slept, his beautiful face turned right toward me, but his eyes were closed," my wife continued, her hand working deftly. "I could hear him breath."

My wife moaned softly and I could hear Jana and Will begin to breath heavily, too.

The expression on Jana's face was a mixture of wonderment and applause. I could see that part of Jana wanted to leave, but more of her wanted to stay. She tried not to stare at her girlfriend's private moment but, as hard as she tried to avert her eyes, her eyes were magnetically drawn to Elle's handiwork. Submitting to the moment, Jana stopped feigning that she was mildly disinterested and she watched intently as Elle played with herself.

I imagined that Jana was slipping into her own memories, that she couldn't help but think about her own college boyfriends, the first time she got fingered, being naked in the backseat of boyfriends' cars, going down on them at the lake. I could see that the thoughts were enough to trigger her own physical reaction. With no further encouragement needed, Jana hiked up her dress and began to touch herself. She ran her fingers over the front of her sheer, bright green panties and I could see, beneath the sheer fabric, her lips eagerly opened to her exploratory touch.

Jana gave no thought about Will, but he was totally mesmerized as well. He began to caress Jana's back with his hand, perhaps out of nervousness in the beginning, but then as a sign of encouragement. Jana responded favorably to Will's touch by arching her back like a happy, purring, little kitten. Gingerly, Will clasped the zipper that secured the back of Jana's dress and skillfully pulled it down. Immediately, the front of Jana's top fell away like petals from a flower and exposed her soft, round breasts. She instantly shimmied out of her dress, leaving on only her sheer, bright green thong and heels. On such a petite frame, Jana's large brown breasts and dark brown nipples looked even bigger than they really were. She was aroused and her nipples were prominently displayed.

"Fully exposed there in front of him," Elle continued, "and he not knowing, I fought back whimpers of pleasure as my fantasy was coming true. I had wanted to masturbate in front of him from the moment I laid eyes on him. And I was finally doing it. My fingers moved in and out,..."

As my wife's fingers moved in and out.

"And my pussy was so wet. Gosh, I was so wet. Mmmm. Felt so good. He stirred in his sheets but I didn't stop. I kept massaging my clit, hoping he would wake up and see me, rubbing it with my fingers and palm, then slipping my fingers inside myself, one,... two,... as many as I could fit. I imagined that it was his cock inside me."

Elle's whole hand disappeared between her legs as far as she could reach. When she pulled out to lick her fingers, I could see how swollen her pussy lips had become. They were eager for the attention she was giving them and her clit was as engorged as I'd ever seen it.

When I looked back across the room, I saw Jana was making fast work, too. She had removed her pretty little panties, or at least her panties were hanging loosely on one of her ankles, and she was vibrating her fingers across her clit as rapidly as she could. She moaned to herself as her tight little pussy screamed with a burning desire for immediate release.

"Mmmm," Jana moaned.

Will had pulled out his cock. He watched my wife's every move and stroked himself off. His cock was as hard as a pipe. Gauging by the expression on his face, I imagined Will wanted to be inside my wife by the way he was watching her and yanking on himself with long, slow, firm strokes.

The smell of sex filled the room.

"A nurse came the door but didn't come inside." Elle tried to go on, although now short of breath. She kept her eyes closed.

"I stopped, a moment of panic, that maybe I'd been caught, but she left. She left and I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop, not even after the first time I came. Not even with the second or third. I sat there on this metal chair, practically in a puddle, my young vagina gaping open for the whole world to see, and he never woke up. He never woke up. Ahhh, I'm coming."

And I knew that she was. Her rhythm had reached its upsurge. Her story was reaching an end, but she wasn't finished.

"Me, too," Jana moaned. "Ohhh,... Ohhh,.. I'm coming."

Both Elle's and Jana's orgasms approached together, like a single, giant wave. It swelled beneath them and carried them swiftly toward some distant shore. I knew Elle could ride the wave for as long as she wanted. It could roll on all night, creating tremors of waves cascading against the rocks. And my hardened cock promised to make sure she rode for as long as she desired tonight.

"Oh," Jana yelped. "Fuck, I'm commmming," she cried. Her fingers pulsed over her swollen clit. Her toes curled.

With that, Will shot his load in a gigantic stream across the room. The first stream went half way, but the second and third streams reached as far as Elle's toes.

"Ohhh,... yeah. Ohhh,... yeah," he groaned.

"Ohhh,... yeah," my wife repeated. "I'm coming," she squealed as she convulsed in her chair with shudders of passionate release.

Trying to extend the feeling, Elle continued to massage herself as long as she could but, after a few moments, she began to wind down.

"And that was the last,..." Elle gasped. "The last time I did that in front of another person."

Elle looked up, allowing her youthful fantasy to take on new form. It washed over her like a lifetime of pent up desire.

Elle laughed. The rest of us laughed out loud with her.

"I've wanted to do that since I was seventeen," she said, a satisfied look on her face. "In front of someone else, that is." Elle looked relieved, satisfied.

A moment of blissful silence fell over the room. My wife and friends looked spent.

"Now that I've seen it, I think I must've wanted you to do that for a long time, too," I replied.

"Here-here," Jana giggled. She sat naked with her knees pulled up to her chest. Will sat with his pants down around his ankles, still holding his cock in his hand.

"So maybe we can do it again later?" Elle teased with a wicked smile.

"Okay, but I think Will needs at least an hour to recover," Jana joked, glancing at her exhausted husband.

"I do not," he defended, hitting Jana with a pillow.

Everyone laughed.

"How about a skinny dip while we wait?" Elle asked.

Without waiting, I kicked off my sandals and, in a series of quick maneuvers, pulled off my shorts and shirt.

"Last one in is a rotten egg," I called as I bolted buck-ass naked toward the pool.

Leap, plunge, and I was in the pool. Right behind me, everyone else hit the warm water in one big splash. Elle landed directly in my arms, with her naked body pressing against mine.

"Fun, huh?" she asked.

"Undeniably fun," I smiled.

She embraced me and welcomed the rest of our night together with a big wet kiss.

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Exhibitionist & Voyeur
  • /
  • Villa V

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 224 milliseconds