A Secret for Two

DAY 1

I knew he was there. Well, at that point I was only assuming it was him. In the mirror I saw a shadow slide across the sunbeam that was illuminating the landing outside our bedroom door. I carried on, pretending to evaluate the dress I was trying on. Packing had been very much a rushed effort and, rather than carefully choose which of my new summer dresses I'd take to Italy, I put all five in the suitcase, complete with still-attached labels and price tags. This was the first chance I'd had to see myself in them. I stood on the bed to get a better view from the waist down, and also to manoeuvre myself subtly so that I was able to see the crack between the door and the frame, to see if he was watching me. He was.

Bill was my boyfriend's father. We were all staying together in a villa in Tuscany for five days, paid for by Bill and his wife, Sheila. The guests were myself and Chris, Chris's older brother Will, his wife Imogen and their two brats. I wasn't mad keen on the idea but, hey, what the heck -- it was a free holiday. I wasn't very fond of Will and hated Imogen with a passion. Bill and Sheila I'd only met a few times -- Chris and I were not long into a full-on relationship after all -- but they seemed OK. Until now. A Peeping Tom.

I was having mixed feelings about the situation I found myself in, though. The exhibitionist in me, not to mention the filthy little girl, was getting off on him spying on me. There was no doubt he would find me attractive. He probably jacked off thinking about me all the time -- it had never occurred to me until now but it was obvious. I continued to turn and bend and swish my hem on the bed, stalling as I debated whether to change into the next dress while he was watching. We both knew he was safe to stand there for some time yet. Chris and Will were on their morning run around the bay, Sheila had cheerily announced she was heading into the village for daily rations, Imogen and the kids were out in the pool already -- and their bedrooms was downstairs.

I slid off the bed and turned to the last two dresses, laid out on the sheets and waiting for attention. They were all much of a muchness -- about knee-length, strappy shoulders, low cut, some with a lacy finish. I had underwear on so I wasn't being a total whore in knowingly undressing for him. I smiled inwardly as lifted the pink dress over my head, tossing it on to the approved-for-use pile. I had a matching white thong and bra on, so there wasn't much to be left to the imagination. I felt a tingle of excitement as I paused to select which dress would get my attention next. I picked the white one, knowing it was shorter, sexier. I slowly gathered it up and dropped it over my head. I was dying to look at him, or hear him gasp. I strained to detect any signs of movement, but nothing.

I turned to the mirror. He was still there. I wondered if he was jacking off right there on the landing, or had his hand in his pants squeezing his cock as he watched me. I wanted to see more. I wanted to see inside his head. The noise of Imogen shouting at the kids outside woke me from my daydream. I pushed down the dress, ironing out the creases, twisting left and right for the mirror, turning right round to check my ass. I adjusted my breasts, doing it slightly side-on to ensure he saw me do it. This dress I liked. I climbed up on the bed as before, taking a pair of heeled sandals with me to try on in the mirror. I bent over on the bed as I slipped each shoe on, my ass pointing right at him. There was no doubt he was going to lock himself away for five minutes after this, and I was getting more and more turned on by the thought. I didn't find him attractive at all -- he wasn't even a plumper, older version of Chris, to me he seemed somewhat less than that -- but it was giving me a thrill performing for him. Maybe it was a bit kinky. But, hey, kinky's my middle name.

DAY 2

It took quite a while for us to exchange a glance, let alone words, on the Monday. I broke the ice by offering to get him a drink as we all lazed by the pool -- after all, in theory I was none the wiser about his peeping routine. I watched from behind my shades to see if I could catch him eyeing me up in my bikini, but he seemed to behave as good as gold. Things had relaxed by the evening to the point that I had almost forgotten about it all. Chris and I went out for dinner and a few drinks, the remaining adults were playing cards when we got back. We made our excuses and went to bed to screw. As I lay there, Bill was in my head. I wasn't imaging Bill fucking me, just wondering if he and Sheila still did it, whether he was any good at it, whether I was in his head when he got to do it. I wasn't relaxed enough to cum -- his family playing cards in the room below us and all -- so I faked one and said a silent apology to the Sex God.

The next morning, as I towelled down in the bathroom, I heard Sheila trill through the house: "Any requests? ... Right then, see you in a while." The door closed behind her as she marched up the hill into town. It was just me and Bill upstairs in the villa again. My heart was pounding. I could, of course, close the door to the bedroom tight shut this time. But that was highly unlikely.

I wrapped my towel around me and padded across to the bedroom pushing the door behind me and hearing it stick on the old, ragged carpet as it had done the day before. From my position in front of the mirror there was a visible gap of a couple of inches between the outside of the door and the frame. And then there was the crack down the inside of the door through which Bill had watched me the previous morning.

I dried myself off slowly, watching the landing in the mirror, listening for creaking floorboards. I did my entire body twice and still no sign. I heard movement downstairs, and Bill coughing. Maybe he didn't want to risk it today. I gave my hair a thorough rub with the towel -- I'd forgotten my hairdryer -- and began my moisturising routine. I did my face and neck, perched on the edge of the bed, as close to the mirror on the opposite wall as I could get. I did my upper chest, hands and arms. As I pushed myself back to do my legs I suddenly got the feeling he was there. I couldn't see from my position, so I needed to stand up are shuffle across. I pretended I had the wrong body cream and reached over to my toiletry bag to get the expensive stuff. Bill was peering through the door crack again.

My heart pounded. He was just in time. I returned to my position in the middle of the bed, sat up, and dribbled some of the cold, oily cream along my right leg. I put the tube down beside me and began to slowly massage the white cream into my skin. I started at the top of my thigh, with both hands, and slowly pushed down over my knee and down my shin to my ankle, before drawing my hands up the back of my leg, raising it off the bed in the process, and completing a 'lap' at the underside of my thigh. I put some more cream, into my palm, rubbed some on to the other hand, and reversed the action. I pressed my cold slippery palms against the underside of my thigh and drew them up my leg, under my knee and along my calf until they reached my ankle once more. Then they came back down the front of my bronzed, smooth leg. I massaged the leg for a few minutes, rubbing the moisturiser slowly in, kneading my thigh flesh in full view of my boyfriend's father.

I couldn't very well check, but I knew I was getting wet. As I prepared to do the left leg I realised Bill wasn't going to be able to see from his position, so I moved a little sideways, hoping to God I was not making it obvious that I knew he was there. I squirted some cream along my left thigh. As I began the same motions it occurred to me that in his perverse mind the cream might have resembled cum shot along my toned upper leg. I let out a few audible sighs as I pushed the cream into my pores, purely for his benefit. As I debated whether to do my breasts for him I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Repeated movement. He was wanking out there, I was sure of it. I was stuck because I had turned away from the mirror and could not look directly at him, but I could sense movement. He was watching me rub cream into my naked body and jacking off. The thought of it drove me wild.

I squeezed a few drops of cream on to my breasts, and rubbed it in. It wasn't something I was finding erotic in itself, but I knew he would. So I closed my eyes, tossed my head around a little, acted like I was driving myself wild. I massaged my breasts and lingered around the nipples, I cupped them repeatedly, driving them up and together, accentuating their B-cup pertness. This was going to its only logical conclusion.

Satisfied that I had done a decent job with my tits, I lay back on the bed, totally unable to see through the crack now, but knowing that my lower body was in full view to him. I picked up the tube of moisturising lotion and squeezed a line across my bikini line. I began moisturising all the waxed and shaved skin, legs still fairly close together, my hand dying to delve deeper. I parted my legs slightly while there was still some lotion to be had, and pushed some down either side of my pussy with my middle and index finger, drawing them back up slowly, pushing them down again. I let out a quiet moan and spread my legs wider. I thought I heard him whimper.

My feet were on the edge of the bed, knees slightly more than shoulder width apart. I gathered some moisturiser with my middle finger from a small blob that had gathered in the top of my pubes. I slowly reached down and placed the finger on my pussy, gently pressing my clit, waking it from its slumber, before using the lotion to slide between my lips and directly on to my hardening button. I let out a louder moan. I dropped my feet over the edge of the bed to make sure Bill could see everything, my left hand slowly squeezed my breast as my finger glided over my clit.

My finger ventured further south, hooking into my hole, audibly opening me up as the building wetness betrayed my genuine arousal. I probed with my middle and ring fingers, penetrating myself, moving in a circular motion to gather up my juices on my fingers, teasing my G-spot every now and then. I pulled my hand back out of my cunt and dragged the slimy fingers up my slit before settling over my clit. "Ahhhhhh," I moaned louder still as the lubricated fingers slipped over me, I quickened the pace, now caught up in the moment, focused on whacking myself off, needing to cum. I raised my left leg and pushed up slightly. I wanted fingers inside me too and needed to manoeuvre my left hand down there. I rolled slightly in sliding my left hand under my ass, still rhythmically rubbing my clit. I pulled my left leg fully off the bed in stretching to reach my dripping hole, my raised leg squashed against me, newly softened thigh flesh pressed against my stomach. I pushed the middle three fingers of my left hand into my pussy, the wetness surprising even me, and began fucking myself in time with the other hand, gently scraping my nails over my G-spot with every withdrawal.

"Oh fuck yeah," I growled as I felt a climax thundering towards me. Clit and G-spot simultaneously meant no turning back. My right hand began pressing harder down on to my clit as it rubbed. It wasn't full-on enough, I needed more. With my index and ring fingers I held and parted my lips, pinning them apart and allowing my middle finger to frantically rub my exposed clit.

"Oh God," I squealed, my whole body tensing up. If I could have seen Bill that would have tipped me over the edge for sure. I thought of him stood there, wanking into a tissue. The pre-orgasm warmth and numbness gathered inside me. I stopped fucking with my left hand and kept it inside me, rubbing my G-spot. I cried out as the first shattering wave of ecstasy went through me, my upper body thrown forward off the bed, my legs instinctively closing, grasping my hands between my legs. I pressed my clit, squeezed it, pushing the second and third waves down and out of my body. My head was buried in the sheets, hair in my mouth, spit on my cheek. I growled as I hit a wall, and sowly pulled my hand out of my hole with a squelch and dropped my leg to a more comfortable position. I lay there for a while, getting my breath back, deciding what to do next. Then the door downstairs opened and the boys' post-run chatter ruined the moment.

I stood and, of course, Bill was gone -- though hopefully only just.

I got dressed and, at breakfast, I was incredibly naughty. Every now and then when I thought Bill might be looking I subtly ran my fingers under my nose, having a gentle sniff. I sensed him tensing the first time I did it, I was sure he saw. It gave me a kick. Gave me the hunger for more. I picked up a slice of toast from the rack and made a show of changing my mind, putting it back -- sure enough Bill went straight for it. I watched him eat it, squirming in my seat.

DAY 3

Chris and I had only fucked the one time in the villa, and it was a fairly tame one at that. Tuesday night he was out like a light, a consequence of all that sun, fresh air and booze, leaving me to rub myself off for the second time that day, my mind wandering to Bill and our dirty secret as I did so.

I was woken the next morning by a damp Chris, fresh from a pre-run cold shower, nuzzling up behind me, obviously wanting me to put out. I played dead-to-the-world for as long as I could, then made a big thing of coming round slowly. His hand had forced itself between my legs from behind, trying to squeeze me into some sort of arousal.

"Aren't you going for a run?" I mumbled by way of an acknowledgement.

"Yeah... but I'm horny," he replied planting soft kissed on my neck and pressing a stiff cock into the small of my back.

"Doesn't sex waste valuable energy for your run?" I asked, eyes still closed. "Come and do me when you get back."

"Nah, it'll get my blood pumping...besides you look too good to leave alone."

I could tell he wasn't going to let it go, so I opened my legs slightly more, allowing his hand a bit more room to manoeuvre. I reached behind and squeezed his cock a little while he gently pressured my sleepy clit. After a few minutes I could feel myself getting vaguely in the mood, and rolled over so we could kiss while we wanked each other. We were both naked, the sheet having peeled off my body when Chris crawled up and started fondling me.

My legs opened more, offering a moistening hole for Chris to delve into with his middle finger, lubricating before returning to my clit. I jacked him softly, slowly against my tummy, our kisses gradually became softer, more longing, breathing began to acquire moans and groans as we edged towards our fuck.

"Suppose you're too tired for anything but 'mish'?" he said between tonguey kisses.

"Mmmm," I intoned in agreement. Then I thought. Bill. He might watch.

I suddenly pushed Chris, my hand on his shoulder, and clambered over him as he rolled on to his back in the middle of the bed. He was surprised, but smiled approvingly. "Actually," I said slowly, "I quite fancy riding you if that's OK?" I leant down to kiss him, my pussy hovering tantalisingly above his cock as I crouched on all fours over him.

"That's fine by me," he said.

"You save your energy for your run," I smiled at him, reaching between my legs to hold his stiff cock still as I backed on to him. "Mmmmmmm," I moaned slightly louder than before as I felt my cunt swallow him inch by inch. When it was all in I pushed myself back, straddling him, and sat with his dick inside me, working small circular movements to open myself up a little more. I noticed the door was slightly open again, caught on the rumpled carpet once more. I could see through the crack from where I performed.

Chris's hands reached up, cupping my tits as I concentrated on my slow circular grind on him. "Ahhhhhhh," I let out another exclamation that was possibly too loud. "Fuck yeah!" My hands gripped the side of Chris's body, his hands wandered all over, squeezing my ass and thighs, back to my tits now and then.

I grabbed his wrist and directed the middle finger that had been inside me up towards my mouth. My lips parted and I let him slowly slide it in, savouring the sweet taste of my pussy around his finger as I slowly rocked on him. Having seductively tongued his finger inside my mouth, I removed it and leant forward to kiss him again, sharing what delicious leftovers there might be around my lips. I lifted myself off him, dragging him to the mouth of my cunt and pausing before sliding back down on to him. Much as I loved grinding on him, feeling his pubic bone against my clit, feeling his cock pressing deep inside me, I knew that he loved long slimy strokes on his cock that he could look down between us and watch. That he did, murmuring a few "fuck yeah"s.

I pushed myself back again, glancing again at the crack in the door. I couldn't see any sign of Bill. Oh well. This wasn't exactly a chore. I began riding Chris quicker, his hands holding my hips as I fucked. "Mmmmmmmm," I growled urgently, eyes shut. He squeezed my tits, held my hair back to watch my face, grabbed my ass. His hands seemed to be everywhere.

I threw myself forward again, lying fully on him but grinding on him, my mouth's eagerness for his betraying my arousal. He held my ass cheeks as I gyrated on him. "Ahhhhh Chris, stick a finger in me..." He knew what to do. I often had the urge to feel something in my ass when I went on top. He squeezed his hand between our faces and returned his middle finger to my mouth for a quick and simple lube-up. My movements subsided as his hand returned to my ass, his left hand pulling at my butt cheek to expose my hole. His index finger located the warm puckered entry and the slick middle finger probed gently, slipping in easily then gently pushing past a tiny moment of discomfort before being finally fully enveloped in my murky wet warmth. "Grrrrrrrrrrrr," I breathed into his ear. He worked his finger round slowly, loosening me up. "Oh yeah baby, can you feel your cock?"

"Mmm-hmmm," he murmured agreement. I began rocking on him again, his signal to start finger-fucking my ass. The movements were small to begin with. It felt great. I wanted to cum so badly. I pushed up slightly, my hands on Chris's upper arms for leverage, fucking him harder, lifting off his cock more but still grinding my clit against his svelte body. "Ahhh Trix that feels so good."

He was right. But I wanted two fingers in my ass now, and I was worried it was going to get in the way of a proper full-on fuck. I thought quickly, came up with the ideal solution. A special treat for Chris, and I'd be able to watch the crack in the door in the mirror.

I stopped screwing and gently pulled his hand away from my ass. "What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just moving round." I climbed off his cock, gave him quick kiss, and turned so that I was facing away from him but still straddling. I reached down between my legs and held his cock upright, sitting on it once more, letting it disappear into my hot pussy. "I want you to finger my ass properly," I whispered under my shoulder to him. He grunted some sort of ascension and I felt his middle finger slip straight back in, working my hole larger for the moment rather than fuck me. I cocked my head slightly to one side, trying to peer through the crack of the door. I thought I could see a shadow, but I wasn't sure. One thing was for sure, if Bill was there, he was getting his money's worth again today.

Chris withdrew his finger, only to force two of them back in. "Ahhhhhhhh," I let out a genuine groan of pleasure. "Oh yeah... fuck me." I rode Chris harder. I could feel his fingers pressing against his cock through my walls and knew that would be driving him wild. As his fingers built up speed fucking my ass, the warm loose feeling took hold, adding to the stimulation of my pussy. I loved not knowing if I was going to shit myself on him, not being able to feel properly in my ass, just that warm fuzzy sexy feeling of being fucked in there. With one hand gripping his knee down in front of me, the other reached down between my legs to squeeze his balls, to try to feel them pumping juice into me. He squirmed and groaned as I began massaging them, we were both close to cumming.