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A CRACK ON THE BEACH CHAPTER 1 free porn video
We’d all had a long but enjoyable day on the beach. It would be difficult not to take pleasure in the amenities that the isolated hotel offered. It was based on the southern tip of the Island and, for its heavy price, ensured privacy, great food and five star services. “We” was my wife and I and my step-sister-in-law. We are all in our fifties and, thankfully, the Gods had been kind to us and kept our figures reasonably trim and our minds alert.
Shy, my wife, was trim and boasted a well shaped pair of breasts and a very pert bum that even the occasional waiter glanced at. Cee, my step-sister-in-law, was older than her step-sister, slightly taller and she managed to exude sensuality, especially as the sun stroked and tanned her body. As for myself, I’m tall and carry little excess weight.
By the end of the day, much beer, wine and food had been partaken of and by the time we returned to our very secluded chalet, Shy was well inebriated and Cee was navigating the pathway like a ship on a rough sea. We parked ourselves on the patio and, as usual, indulged in more alcohol. At some point Shy staggered off to shower.
When she returned, wrapped in a large towel, she sunk into a chair and within half an hour, had fallen asleep. This was not unusual for my wife. When the wine took hold of her, she fell into a deep, deep slumber. Not u*********s, but a sleep so heavy she was impossible to awaken. I had, on a few occasions, hauled her off to bed and, in the morning, she had not questioned how she had gotten there or even asked what had occurred the night before.
With my wife now semi-comatose, Cee and I continued chatting. Nothing of consequence as Cee’s own intake of wine had slowed down her own thought process somewhat! A fine sheen of perspiration shone just below her neck, above her blouse.
“Oops,” Cee said suddenly, her eyes on my wife.
I glanced over and saw that the knot on Shy’s towel had slipped considerably. Her left breast was exposed. It was white and full against the darkness of her tan, its nipple perfectly erect, probably enticed by the coolness of the night air.
I glanced at Cee. She was still staring at her step-sister’s breast. Not lasciviously. It was an unexpected sight, after all. Then she looked away.
“It looks lonely, don’t you think?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Her breast – I think it’s missing its friend.” I stood up, suddenly quite turned-on by the idea of exposing my wife’s breasts. Don’t ask me why – perhaps it was the place, the moment, the day’s sun and alcohol. The fact that Cee, another woman, an older step-sister, was there fueled my actions.
“What are you doing?” Cee asked, managing to sit upright on her chair without sloshing her glass of wine. She uncrossed her tanned legs beneath the thin skirt she was wearing.
“Sssh.”
I went behind Shy’s chair. She was fast asleep, definitely not aware of time or place. She slept with her head to the side, her legs fully extended. “She’s probably hot wearing this towel, anyway,” I whispered. I stood behind her and leant over. Slowly I opened the towel to either side as much as I could without moving her arms. I opened it enough to expose her breasts and upper torso. It wouldn’t take much too fully expose her, but I hesitated. I wanted to do this slowly. Warmth was spreading in my belly, toward my cock and I felt my testicles tighten.
“If she wakes up, she’ll murder you,” Cee whispered. Did I just detect a hint of excitement, of naughtiness, in her voice?
“She won’t. When she gets like this, she’s out to the world. I know. Look,” I answered. I leant forward and gently cupped a breast. “You see?”
Cee was looking, nervously so. She glanced away, then back to my hand as I ran my thumb over Shy’s nipple and I felt it respond. Shy didn’t stir. I stood back and returned to my chair and beer. Now I could see, like Cee, my wife’s semi nudity. All that was covered was her waist. I didn’t know if she was wearing panties or not.
Her breasts swelled with the rise of her chest, slightly drooped, areola mischievously dark. With the towel d****d the way it was, she could have been posing for an artist, but instead she had now become my plaything, perhaps our plaything.
“What are you thinking?” I asked Cee as she lit a cigarette.
“I’m thinking it is time I went back to my room if I was sober enough!”
“No you don’t. The night is still young.”
She looked sideways at me. “I don’t know what you are thinking, but I’m not going there!”
I chuckled and then I saw Cee take a deliberate look at her step-sister’s semi-nudity. It wasn’t a glance, it was something more. She absorbed the view, enjoyed it momentarily. She shifted on her chair and as she leant forward to stub out her cigarette, I could see the outline of her breasts entrapped in her thin bra. Her nipples were erect, of that I am certain. And suddenly I realised that I could take this further, if I wanted to. Needless to say, I didn’t have a clue as to how far and toward what goal.
“Do you like her breasts?” I asked Cee and my voice must have interrupted her thoughts be-cause she almost jumped in her chair.
“They’re breasts.”
“I know that, but do you like them?” I could feel the heat pumping into my cock as I asked the question. I was getting erect, but comfortably so. “I promise I won’t tell Shy what you think!”
Silence as she drank from her glass of wine. Thoughts must have been racing through her booze sodden brain because it took some time for her to reply.
“You promise?”
“I do,” I rasped, realising now that I was treading on delicate ground.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Even in the little light on the patio, I could see her flush.
“Would you like to touch them?”
“Stop it now.”
Shy slept on, a slight snoring sound from her lips. She remained comatose, her sleep Shyp.
“She won’t ever know. She’ll wake up in the morning without a clue. Trust me. I know.”
Cee seemed to relax. “They do want to be touched, don’t they?”
“Mmm,” I responded, brain and adrenalin racing.
“Would you mind? She is your wife, I mean.”
My cock was hammering beneath my shorts looking for an exit. “Well, you could caress your own breasts as you touch hers,” I suggested, my voice a tad strained.
Cee almost glared in response. “That’s blackmail!”
“Yes,” I said. “But they do want to be touched, as you said,” I added after a pause. God, if this was to happen, I’m going to have to unzip my pants. And her breasts desired to be sucked I wanted to say, but didn’t. Not yet.
Cee took a sip of wine, her eyes now on Shy without shame. “What happens if someone sees us?”
I had thought of that, but our chalet was remote and secluded. It was what I was paying for. I told Cee that. “It is after midnight, anyway. Deserted,” I added. “I’ll dim the patio lights, if you want?”
Cee nodded, her eyes now focused on my wife’s breasts and erect nipples and the opportu-nity ahead. Had I tapped into some distant fantasy? I stood and went to the dimmer switch, my cock taut against my shorts. As I dimmed the lights, I shifted my erection so the top of my penis escaped the confinements of my underpants.
I sat down as Cee stood up. “Oh God, what am I doing?” she asked quietly and then moved toward Shy. She swayed a little on her legs, the booze and the moment colliding. As she went forward she reached beneath her blouse and unclasped her bra. I heard the clasp go and even my testicles responded. I sat back, now mesmerised.
Cee took her time probably because of nerves, of suddenly realising where she was and what she was about to do. She stood behind Shy as I had done minutes before. I could see the swing of her now naked breasts beneath her blouse – they were similar in size to my wife’s, perhaps heavier, more pendulous, but beautifully so. I’d fantasised about them before when she wore her bikini, now they were real and visible.
“What if she wakes up?” she whispered.
“She won’t. We’ll probably have to carry her to bed. If she does, we’ll tell her we were trying to wake her up.” My voice was strained as my hand had now strayed to beneath my shorts and I was slowly rubbing the head of my cock.
If Cee was aware of me beginning to masturbate, she didn’t seem to care as she reached out with her right hand and cupped my wife’s right breast. She cupped the full weight of it. “Oh shit,” she sighed, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. Her tanned hand outlined the whiteness of Shy’s breast.
Shy didn’t stir. Not even a muscle twitched or an eyelid flicker.
I ran my fingers over the length of my erect covered penis – just gently. I did not want this to end. The night was now opening up to unknown events.
Cee kept focused on her hand cupping the breast as she snaked her left hand under her blouse and begin to fondle her own breast. I could see that she immediately began squeezing a nipple, quite roughly, between her fingers. She slowly began fondling Shy’s breast, cupping it, moulding it. She bit down on her lip, her eyes not straying.
“Feel her nipple,” I whispered as my own hand continued caressing the length of my cock. I knew if I took my cock out and started masturbating openly, my orgasm would be immediate. So I toyed, rather than masturbated. My words didn’t seem to infiltrate Cee’s moment – she was in her own space, her hands now naturally going to work. Her thumb skipped and jumped over her step-sister’s nipple, gently at first and then with some pressure. Her left hand squeezed her own breasts, snaking between the two. She held Shy’s nipple between her fingers and slowly she squeezed and milked it.
“Oh God,” she moaned. Then she stood back, withdrawing her hand from her blouse. She was breathing quite rapidly. “I need a drink,” she said and swayed her to her chair. I kept my hand down my shorts. I didn’t see any reason to disguise what I was doing. Shy’s left breast showed a slight redness. Cee certainly wasn’t a gentle fondler. Those fingers of hers enjoyed causing a hint of pain, of bite, I realised.
She sipped from her wine and glanced down at my hand, the head of my cock. I paused. “You don’t have to stop, but that’s not coming anywhere near me. It would just over compli-cate things if they aren’t already complicated enough! If you know what I mean?”
I did. She was happily married and what was unfolding at this point in time, was just a mo-ment, a dip into a fantasy; never to be repeated, or so I thought at that point in time. To be frank, even though I had instigated the first move, Cee now seemed to be in control and I was more than content, for obvious reasons, to let it be so.
“I understand,” I said, aware that she was again focused on Shy and that she had returned her hand to beneath her blouse and was eagerly squeezing a nipple. I let her continue, shar-ing the moment as I softly stroked the sensitive head of my cock. Again, she bit her lower lip as her hand worked angrily on her breasts.
Shy stirred ever so slightly and the towel shifted near her waist, revealing more of her belly and a hint of what lay below. Then she emitted a soft snore and it was easy to ascertain that she was, again, solidly asleep and back into the land of drunken oblivion.
“Do you want to see more of her?” I asked quietly, my breath out of sync.
...THE FULL NOVEL IS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM UNDER THE TITLE: A CRACK ON THE BEACH
Shy, my wife, was trim and boasted a well shaped pair of breasts and a very pert bum that even the occasional waiter glanced at. Cee, my step-sister-in-law, was older than her step-sister, slightly taller and she managed to exude sensuality, especially as the sun stroked and tanned her body. As for myself, I’m tall and carry little excess weight.
By the end of the day, much beer, wine and food had been partaken of and by the time we returned to our very secluded chalet, Shy was well inebriated and Cee was navigating the pathway like a ship on a rough sea. We parked ourselves on the patio and, as usual, indulged in more alcohol. At some point Shy staggered off to shower.
When she returned, wrapped in a large towel, she sunk into a chair and within half an hour, had fallen asleep. This was not unusual for my wife. When the wine took hold of her, she fell into a deep, deep slumber. Not u*********s, but a sleep so heavy she was impossible to awaken. I had, on a few occasions, hauled her off to bed and, in the morning, she had not questioned how she had gotten there or even asked what had occurred the night before.
With my wife now semi-comatose, Cee and I continued chatting. Nothing of consequence as Cee’s own intake of wine had slowed down her own thought process somewhat! A fine sheen of perspiration shone just below her neck, above her blouse.
“Oops,” Cee said suddenly, her eyes on my wife.
I glanced over and saw that the knot on Shy’s towel had slipped considerably. Her left breast was exposed. It was white and full against the darkness of her tan, its nipple perfectly erect, probably enticed by the coolness of the night air.
I glanced at Cee. She was still staring at her step-sister’s breast. Not lasciviously. It was an unexpected sight, after all. Then she looked away.
“It looks lonely, don’t you think?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Her breast – I think it’s missing its friend.” I stood up, suddenly quite turned-on by the idea of exposing my wife’s breasts. Don’t ask me why – perhaps it was the place, the moment, the day’s sun and alcohol. The fact that Cee, another woman, an older step-sister, was there fueled my actions.
“What are you doing?” Cee asked, managing to sit upright on her chair without sloshing her glass of wine. She uncrossed her tanned legs beneath the thin skirt she was wearing.
“Sssh.”
I went behind Shy’s chair. She was fast asleep, definitely not aware of time or place. She slept with her head to the side, her legs fully extended. “She’s probably hot wearing this towel, anyway,” I whispered. I stood behind her and leant over. Slowly I opened the towel to either side as much as I could without moving her arms. I opened it enough to expose her breasts and upper torso. It wouldn’t take much too fully expose her, but I hesitated. I wanted to do this slowly. Warmth was spreading in my belly, toward my cock and I felt my testicles tighten.
“If she wakes up, she’ll murder you,” Cee whispered. Did I just detect a hint of excitement, of naughtiness, in her voice?
“She won’t. When she gets like this, she’s out to the world. I know. Look,” I answered. I leant forward and gently cupped a breast. “You see?”
Cee was looking, nervously so. She glanced away, then back to my hand as I ran my thumb over Shy’s nipple and I felt it respond. Shy didn’t stir. I stood back and returned to my chair and beer. Now I could see, like Cee, my wife’s semi nudity. All that was covered was her waist. I didn’t know if she was wearing panties or not.
Her breasts swelled with the rise of her chest, slightly drooped, areola mischievously dark. With the towel d****d the way it was, she could have been posing for an artist, but instead she had now become my plaything, perhaps our plaything.
“What are you thinking?” I asked Cee as she lit a cigarette.
“I’m thinking it is time I went back to my room if I was sober enough!”
“No you don’t. The night is still young.”
She looked sideways at me. “I don’t know what you are thinking, but I’m not going there!”
I chuckled and then I saw Cee take a deliberate look at her step-sister’s semi-nudity. It wasn’t a glance, it was something more. She absorbed the view, enjoyed it momentarily. She shifted on her chair and as she leant forward to stub out her cigarette, I could see the outline of her breasts entrapped in her thin bra. Her nipples were erect, of that I am certain. And suddenly I realised that I could take this further, if I wanted to. Needless to say, I didn’t have a clue as to how far and toward what goal.
“Do you like her breasts?” I asked Cee and my voice must have interrupted her thoughts be-cause she almost jumped in her chair.
“They’re breasts.”
“I know that, but do you like them?” I could feel the heat pumping into my cock as I asked the question. I was getting erect, but comfortably so. “I promise I won’t tell Shy what you think!”
Silence as she drank from her glass of wine. Thoughts must have been racing through her booze sodden brain because it took some time for her to reply.
“You promise?”
“I do,” I rasped, realising now that I was treading on delicate ground.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Even in the little light on the patio, I could see her flush.
“Would you like to touch them?”
“Stop it now.”
Shy slept on, a slight snoring sound from her lips. She remained comatose, her sleep Shyp.
“She won’t ever know. She’ll wake up in the morning without a clue. Trust me. I know.”
Cee seemed to relax. “They do want to be touched, don’t they?”
“Mmm,” I responded, brain and adrenalin racing.
“Would you mind? She is your wife, I mean.”
My cock was hammering beneath my shorts looking for an exit. “Well, you could caress your own breasts as you touch hers,” I suggested, my voice a tad strained.
Cee almost glared in response. “That’s blackmail!”
“Yes,” I said. “But they do want to be touched, as you said,” I added after a pause. God, if this was to happen, I’m going to have to unzip my pants. And her breasts desired to be sucked I wanted to say, but didn’t. Not yet.
Cee took a sip of wine, her eyes now on Shy without shame. “What happens if someone sees us?”
I had thought of that, but our chalet was remote and secluded. It was what I was paying for. I told Cee that. “It is after midnight, anyway. Deserted,” I added. “I’ll dim the patio lights, if you want?”
Cee nodded, her eyes now focused on my wife’s breasts and erect nipples and the opportu-nity ahead. Had I tapped into some distant fantasy? I stood and went to the dimmer switch, my cock taut against my shorts. As I dimmed the lights, I shifted my erection so the top of my penis escaped the confinements of my underpants.
I sat down as Cee stood up. “Oh God, what am I doing?” she asked quietly and then moved toward Shy. She swayed a little on her legs, the booze and the moment colliding. As she went forward she reached beneath her blouse and unclasped her bra. I heard the clasp go and even my testicles responded. I sat back, now mesmerised.
Cee took her time probably because of nerves, of suddenly realising where she was and what she was about to do. She stood behind Shy as I had done minutes before. I could see the swing of her now naked breasts beneath her blouse – they were similar in size to my wife’s, perhaps heavier, more pendulous, but beautifully so. I’d fantasised about them before when she wore her bikini, now they were real and visible.
“What if she wakes up?” she whispered.
“She won’t. We’ll probably have to carry her to bed. If she does, we’ll tell her we were trying to wake her up.” My voice was strained as my hand had now strayed to beneath my shorts and I was slowly rubbing the head of my cock.
If Cee was aware of me beginning to masturbate, she didn’t seem to care as she reached out with her right hand and cupped my wife’s right breast. She cupped the full weight of it. “Oh shit,” she sighed, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. Her tanned hand outlined the whiteness of Shy’s breast.
Shy didn’t stir. Not even a muscle twitched or an eyelid flicker.
I ran my fingers over the length of my erect covered penis – just gently. I did not want this to end. The night was now opening up to unknown events.
Cee kept focused on her hand cupping the breast as she snaked her left hand under her blouse and begin to fondle her own breast. I could see that she immediately began squeezing a nipple, quite roughly, between her fingers. She slowly began fondling Shy’s breast, cupping it, moulding it. She bit down on her lip, her eyes not straying.
“Feel her nipple,” I whispered as my own hand continued caressing the length of my cock. I knew if I took my cock out and started masturbating openly, my orgasm would be immediate. So I toyed, rather than masturbated. My words didn’t seem to infiltrate Cee’s moment – she was in her own space, her hands now naturally going to work. Her thumb skipped and jumped over her step-sister’s nipple, gently at first and then with some pressure. Her left hand squeezed her own breasts, snaking between the two. She held Shy’s nipple between her fingers and slowly she squeezed and milked it.
“Oh God,” she moaned. Then she stood back, withdrawing her hand from her blouse. She was breathing quite rapidly. “I need a drink,” she said and swayed her to her chair. I kept my hand down my shorts. I didn’t see any reason to disguise what I was doing. Shy’s left breast showed a slight redness. Cee certainly wasn’t a gentle fondler. Those fingers of hers enjoyed causing a hint of pain, of bite, I realised.
She sipped from her wine and glanced down at my hand, the head of my cock. I paused. “You don’t have to stop, but that’s not coming anywhere near me. It would just over compli-cate things if they aren’t already complicated enough! If you know what I mean?”
I did. She was happily married and what was unfolding at this point in time, was just a mo-ment, a dip into a fantasy; never to be repeated, or so I thought at that point in time. To be frank, even though I had instigated the first move, Cee now seemed to be in control and I was more than content, for obvious reasons, to let it be so.
“I understand,” I said, aware that she was again focused on Shy and that she had returned her hand to beneath her blouse and was eagerly squeezing a nipple. I let her continue, shar-ing the moment as I softly stroked the sensitive head of my cock. Again, she bit her lower lip as her hand worked angrily on her breasts.
Shy stirred ever so slightly and the towel shifted near her waist, revealing more of her belly and a hint of what lay below. Then she emitted a soft snore and it was easy to ascertain that she was, again, solidly asleep and back into the land of drunken oblivion.
“Do you want to see more of her?” I asked quietly, my breath out of sync.
...THE FULL NOVEL IS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.COM UNDER THE TITLE: A CRACK ON THE BEACH
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