The night before the party, Paul and I had gone to the movies. It was a warm, sticky night, and I decided to leave my bra behind. I’m really a bit large on top to go braless — but I’m 18, so I can get away with it: I’ve got a few years before gravity has its way with me. I knew Paul would notice right away, and appreciate it.
As soon as the lights went out, his hand slowly worked its way onto my right breast (over my shirt, of course). I’d let him touch me there before, but I wasn’t prepared for the shock that ran through my body when he brushed against my nipple: the movie theatre’s air conditioning had made my nipples hard and very sensitive.
I knew I’d probably look quite obscene if the lights suddenly came on, and I wished I’d worn a bra after all. Well, part of me did, anyway.
He lightly pinched the nipple, and I couldn’t help groaning a little. If we’d been alone, I would have let him slip his hand under my shirt. I actually considered it anyway: we weren’t alone in this row of seats, but nobody was within ten seats of us. Nobody would be able to tell, would they?
In the end I chickened out, but I let my hand fall onto Paul’s lap, running my palm softly along his cock through his shorts. He actually jumped a little: I’d never touched him there before. “You like that?” I whispered to him, stroking him gently.
“God yes,” he said, rubbing and pinching my nipple more openly. “You?”
“Mmm,” I sighed. His cock was getting harder, and was pushing up against his shorts enough that I was able to close most of my hand around it, even through the cloth.
He took his hand off my breast, and slipped it down to my leg, trying to work his fingers under my shorts. Part of me was thrilled that a boy was about to touch my pussy, even through my panties, while another part of me was a little embarrassed that he was going to feel how wet my panties were.
I began stroking his cock through his shorts even harder. At this point, I knew, I was no longer touching him, but jerking him off. And if he could get his hand far enough up my shorts, he could be finger-fucking me any minute now. And I would have let him.
But then we both noticed a middle-aged couple making their way down our row of seats. We both withdrew our hands before they had any idea what we’d been up to, and they sat down just a couple of seats away from us.
Paul and I looked at one another a bit sheepishly: were we really going to go that far in such a semi-public place? It certainly did add to the excitement, though. “Do you want to move to different seats?” I asked him.
I’m sure he was tempted — well, I should hope he was tempted — but the mood was broken for now, and we both knew it. “Let’s just go,” he said, and I agreed.
When I said the mood was broken, understand, I don’t mean our bodies had gone back to normal: I rushed through the lobby, outside and toward Paul’s car, because my nipples were poking through my shirt like a pair of thumbs — or at last it felt that way to me. Paul was running alongside me, not only because I was running, I’m sure, but because he had an erection that was impossible to hide.
When we got into the car, he leaned over toward me and we kissed, his hands groping both of my breasts. If we’d been somewhere more private, like Biggins Field, I’d have let him pull off my shirt, or even pulled it off myself. But we were in the multiplex parking lot, and we were in a compact car with bucket seats and a gearshift between us, so we disengaged from one another. Paul asked me if I wanted to get something to eat at the diner, I said yes, and we started driving.
I switched on my phone, and there was a message from my parents: they were going out to eat, and they’d be back around 10:30. This was their not-so-subtle way of telling me that since the movie ended around 10, they’d make it home not too long after I would, so Paul and I shouldn’t get any ideas.
Except, of course, we’d left the theatre ten minutes after eight.
“Change of plans,” I said. “Drive me back to my place. I want to show you something.”
“Um… okay,” he said, obviously intrigued.
As well he should have been. I led him up to my bedroom where, a couple of weeks earlier, we’d taken advantage of some home-alone time to first kiss, then roll around my bed, grinding into one another, and my letting him play with my breasts for the first time (through my shirt, again with no bra underneath; I guess part of me knew I’d be letting him touch me that day). He probably figured I’d invited him upstairs for another make-out session, not an unreasonable assumption, but instead I grabbed a bag from my top bureau drawer, and headed for the bathroom. “Just wait there,” I told him, pointing to my desk chair.
I closed the door behind me, and began to undress. I hesitated for a moment, then decided if I didn’t have the guts to wear this bikini in front of just Paul, I certainly wouldn’t be able to wear it at the pool party tomorrow.
I adjusted bahis firmaları the top carefully, to make sure my breasts were covered. Or as covered as they were going to get.
Shit, I couldn’t wear this in public. Why did I even buy it?
Well, partly because I was tired of my goody-goody reputation and everybody’s assumption that I’d be the only virgin at the party (though I probably was); and partly because my best friend Didi had claimed she was going to the party wearing a bikini that would blow everybody away.
Of course, she was out to steal Mindy’s boyfriend and I already had a guy I liked…
Okay, I was over-thinking this because I was trying to stall. Giving myself one last check, I opened the bathroom door and walked back out to my bedroom.
“I was thinking of wearing this tomorrow,” I told Paul. He looked up, saw what I was wearing, then couldn’t stop looking.
I smiled. That was the sort of reaction I was hoping for, and I was enjoying it even more than I’d expected. “You like it?” I asked, turning around. It wasn’t a thong — I’d never wear something like that in public, especially not around my friends — but it did show more of my ass than anybody had seen outside of a school locker room.
“Holy shit, yeah,” Paul said.
“I don’t know,” I said, running a finger along the top of the bikini bra. “Maybe it shows off too much breast.”
“It looks great,” he assured me.
“I just don’t want it to look too great, if you know what I mean,” I said, moving closer to him. “And if I wear it like this,” I added, pushing the two cups a bit further apart, “it shows a lot of cleavage. A lot of cleavage.”
“Okay,” he said with a smile, “now you’re just messing with me.”
“Do you mind?” I asked him.
“Not so far,” he said, standing up. “But do you know what you really have to watch out for?”
“What’s that?” I asked innocently.
He reached behind my neck, and pulled at the knot. He’d guessed correctly that I’d tied the bikini in place using a simple “shoelace” knot, easily undone. “Somebody doing this,” he said, then stepped back and watched the bikini top fall off my breasts.
I thought I’d feel self-conscious the first time I let Paul — or any boy — see my naked breasts, but I wasn’t. “Is that all you’d do?” I asked him. “Stand there and stare?”
He stepped behind me and gently turned my head to the side so he could kiss me, and then reached around around so he could also put his hands on my breasts. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, running my own tongue around it as if it were his cock. I finally broke the kiss and said “You’d be wearing a bathing suit too, wouldn’t you?”
Without hesitation, he stripped down to his briefs, tighty-whiteys that left nothing to the imagination — especially as hard as he was — and we pulled one another down to the bed. We kissed wetly and passionately, my bare breasts rubbing against his chest hair, his cock pushing and grinding against the crotch of my bikini bottoms. It felt better than anything I’d felt before, but I wished I were wearing my thin cotton panties instead of lined bikini bottoms. I was tempted, so tempted, to pull off the bikini bottoms, but I knew that would lead to something I wasn’t ready for. Not that I wasn’t dying to be fucked, but not tonight.
But I could feel Paul’s cock grinding against my clit anyway; and before long, though I hadn’t expected it, I came — the first time a boy had ever made me cum, of course.
And then with a loud groan, so did Paul, soaking his briefs and even getting cum on my bikini bottoms.
He rolled off of me and as we were catching out breaths, he kissed me gently. And then again. He had a big, goofy smile on his face, and I’m sure so did I.
We lay there quietly for a while, my breasts just barely touching his chest; and then I noticed it was 10:15, so I gently but firmly threw him out of the house.
I don’t know how much sleep I got that night. It seemed like I was up the whole time thinking about Paul and what we’d done, and those thoughts were accompanied several times by my fingers working their way down my body and into my wet pussy. I should have taken off my bottoms, I told myself. I should have let him fuck me.
Paul had to work the following day — he’s head lifeguard at one of the local beaches — but he picked me up at 7 for the pool party. I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and had two bikinis in a bag, the new sexy one and an older, more decent one, so I could decide later on which to change into.
Paul was wearing the standard guy’s baggy swimsuit, and a t-shirt. “I liked last night’s swimsuit better,” I told him as I slid into the car.
“I liked last night’s top better too,” he said.
“The bikini top?” I asked.
“No, what you were wearing afterward.”
I leaned over to kiss him. He reached his right hand between us to caress my left breast, and as our mouths separated, I could see him smile as he realized I wasn’t kaçak iddaa wearing a bra. I wouldn’t normally go braless to a party, but I figured I’d be changing into my bikini soon enough anyway, and the t-shirt was thick enough that nobody would know, and I knew Paul would like it.
When we got to the party, Didi was the first girl we noticed. Actually, Didi was usually the first girl everybody noticed: that’s what made her Didi. She was wearing a shirt open over her bikini; but the bikini itself covered, at most, everything that needed to be legally covered. Certainly not the sort of suit you generally wore to a backyard pool party. I love her like a sister, but she certainly isn’t shy.
The upside was, if I wanted to wear my new bikini after all, nobody would be staring at me.
The other dozen-or-so girls were dressed more as you might expect: some of them dressed like me, in t-shirt and shorts, or a skirt, and the rest already in their bikinis, some of them wearing shorts over their bikini bottoms. Hanna was wearing what looked like a designer blouse along with a tight, short pleated skirt that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe — but that’s Hanna for you: she probably didn’t even own a t-shirt.
We said our hellos, filled our plates from the buffet table, and found a pair of beach loungers on the side of the pool opposite the food and most of the crowd. We were just settling in when we noticed that Eddie and Gail, sharing a lounger about ten feet away, had suddenly become very still. Eddie was lying on his back and Gail was on her back as well, lying like a blanket over him. His hands were resting on her chest just under where her cut-off t-shirt ended, and it was clear they’d been several inches higher before we’d invaded their privacy. “Um, maybe we’ll just…” I said awkwardly to Gail.
“Yeah, whatever,” Paul continued, gathering up our stuff and headed for the far end of the pool, where there was a lone lounger, still empty.
“You know…” I said in a teasing voice, running my finger down Paul’s chest, “I bet we could have stayed there if you were feeling up my boobs too.”
“As if you’d let me do that in front of Eddie and Gail,” he said. I turned around to look at the two of them. He was massaging her breasts over her little shirt pretty good; and if she didn’t watch out he was going to have it off her soon, and I wasn’t sure she wanted to be half naked in front of all our friends.
I pushed him down onto the lounger, then climbed on top of him, straddling him. Oh. I could feel his cock through his suit and my shorts and panties. Not as strongly as the night before, when we’d been wearing less, but it was still nice. “Try me and see,” I said.
He raised both hands to my breasts, and I ground myself into him, letting his cock settle into the crotch of my shorts.
As I felt his cock harden beneath me, he slid his hands down my shirt, and then slipped them under my shirt, closing on my bare breasts. I convinced myself that while anybody looking our way could tell Paul had his hands on my breasts, it’s not as if they could actually see anything. Or hear us, from this distance, if we both came. Which I knew we were about to. I could feel it starting inside me, as I began dry-humping Paul with no other thought in my head.
And then suddenly he tensed up, which I thought meant he was about to cum, but instead he got to his feet, almost dumping me onto the ground. I heard some splashing and gasping behind me, and turned to see Davy holding Mindy’s cousin, Jenny or Jane or whatever, almost upside down in the water, her skirt plastered to her belly. She was trying to push her skirt back up over her panties and Davy was trying to keep her still enough to turn her rightside-up again. When he finally succeeded, she walked out of the pool, apparently unconcerned that her blouse was almost invisible.
“Sorry,” Paul said to me. “I thought she was in trouble. But Davy was there.”
“You’re impossible,” I told him, pretending to be angry but really sort of proud. “I’m just about fucking you, and you still have one eye on the pool area.”
“Sorry,” he said again. “It’s just, you know, second nature.”
I knew. And I was proud of what a good and conscientious lifeguard he was. I pressed my body against his, and moved my face very close. “What can I do to get your undivided attention?” I asked him.
He put his arms around my back, pulled me closer, and kissed me.
I responded to the kiss by rubbing my body against his. He was still hard, but probably not on the verge of cumming anymore.
He moved his hands further down my back, going under the elastic waistband of my shorts and grabbing my ass through my panties (I wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d slipped his hands under my panties), pulling my pussy firmly against his cock.
He moved his hands further down, taking more of my ass in his hands and pushing down the back of my shorts enough to expose some of my panties. I’m not sure he kaçak bahis even realized it; but then he thrust his hands lower, reaching almost around to my pussy, and my shorts were clearly pushed down low enough that my panties were almost completely uncovered in the back.
I gave it some quick thought: the panties were dark blue — the same color as my t-shirt, actually — and from a distance nobody could tell they weren’t bikini bottoms. They covered a hell of a lot more than my new bikini bottoms, that’s for sure.
By now, Paul’s hands were pulling out my shorts enough that they were getting uncomfortable, so I slid them the rest of the way down my legs, and kicked them aside. I realized this made it a lot more apparent to everybody how far down my body he had his hands.
But removing my shorts had given him much longer reach, and he was just touching the edge of my pussy now, so there was no way I was going to tell him to stop.
I turned us around so that his back was to the party and his body was shielding mine completely. It occurred to me that if he stripped off my t-shirt, nobody would even realize it. Probably. Maybe. But no, I might be crazy with lust, but not that crazy.
I did love the feel of Paul’s cock, trying to burst its way out of his swimsuit, grinding against my pussy with only a pair of panties covering it. Just as I reached the point where I didn’t think I could stand it anymore, his cock rubbed against me just right that it actually slid between my pussy lips. Through my wet panties of course, but still…
And I came hard, right there in public (though hidden from view), and I buried my face as deeply into Paul’s chest as I could, to muffle any sound I might be making, and I shuddered, repeatedly, grinding hard against Paul.
When I caught my breath, and regained my senses, I backed away from him and realized he’d cum as well. Nothing was leaking through his swimsuit, since the suit was thicker than the briefs he’d been wearing the night before, but it was obviously very wet, and some cum was dripping down his bare leg.
He looked down at the mess he’d made of himself (not that my panties weren’t as embarrassingly wet), smiled, and said “Well… um… that was indiscreet.”
“One way to destroy the evidence,” I said, and without warning I pushed him backward ten feet until we both plunged into the deep end of the pool.
We both came to the surface laughing, and I said “Evidence gone!” I also realized that while it was fun swimming around in my t-shirt and panties, and I was certainly happy that my t-shirt was thick enough not be see-through (I knew I wouldn’t be as calm as Jenny-Jane-Whatever if my breasts were on display to everybody here), a thick t-shirt is not all that comfortable when wet.
Paul pulled us both underwater and, out of everybody’s sight, grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and tried to relieve me of the problem. I slapped his hand away, at least to the extent you can slap somebody’s hand underwater. I’m sure he wasn’t seriously trying to strip his girlfriend half-naked in the middle of a pool party, because I know I wouldn’t have been quick enough to stop him if he had been. He was laughing again as we came up the surface, and he was serious about trying to grab my tits every time I let his hands get close enough.
I reached down and grabbed his crotch. “Good lord,” I said. “you’re hard again. Already.”
He responded by pulling my t-shirt up to just below by breasts, and tickling me. I dove underwater to get out of his grasp, but when I came back up I left the t-shirt where it was. I also wondered why he hadn’t dove down after me, but then I noticed he was in lifeguard mode again: Mindy and Didi were wrestling over something, probably Mindy’s boyfriend, and they both went under. They both came up a moment later and Paul relaxed, and put an arm around my torso. Dangerously close to where he’d rolled my t-shirt up to, and I put my hand over his to keep him from getting any ideas about pulling it higher.
Then Mindy and Didi went under again and when they came up this time, Didi’s bikini top — what there was of it — came up after them. I had a feeling Didi would take this in stride, and I was right: she let the bikini top float off, while she pressed her bare chest against Mindy’s boyfriend. She wasn’t hiding her bare boobs very well, and Paul seemed so interested, he forgot he’d been trying to push my t-shirt higher.
Didi was getting a lot more male attention, as well.
Gail walked to the edge of the pool and, seeing that her boyfriend couldn’t take his eyes off of Didi, gave him a dirty look then pulled her shorts off and jumped in in her t-shirt and panties. I guess I was a fashion trendsetter: except that Gail’s t-shirt was a lot thinner than mine and, once it was wet, she might as well have been as topless as Didi.
A couple of other girls jumped into the pool wearing bikinis, and then Courtney pulled off her shirt and shorts and jumped in wearing her panties and a bra. And then Hanna, making sure all eyes were on her, slowly unbuttoned her blouse — she wasn’t wearing anything underneath — slipped off her skirt, and jumped into the pool wearing only her panties.