Chapter 3

Amanda had to go to Boston for a few days just two days before Molly was due to return from Europe, so I had some time alone to think about what had happened so far this summer. On one hand, I was beginning to feel a little used and was a bit upset with Molly for putting me in the positions -- no pun intended -- that she had. The incident with her sister and the week with her aunt, while both amazing sexually, left me feeling like a hired gun. On the other hand, Molly was the sweetest girl I had ever met and there wasn't a hint of bad intentions in anything she did. She wanted me to have those experiences and had obviously thought them through. She most likely surprised me with them knowing that I would have been too nervous to go through with them had I been given advanced warning. I guess I was also feeling a little guilty for enjoying the experiences so much and even with her express permission (and even participation in her sister's case), it still felt a lot like I was being unfaithful.

Amanda had given me a substantial "tip" on the night before she left, and I hadn't spent a nickle of it. It was already a bit of a sore spot enhancing the "hired gun" feeling and leaving the whole experience with Amanda feeling a little sordid. She explained that the money was for me to spend on or with Molly and to be put towards school. It wasn't for services rendered, but a gift and I should consider it as such. She claimed it was less than half of what she would have spent had she been out shopping during the week instead of spending evenings with me and her husband would likely be thrilled with the smaller than normal credit card statement this month. The money would surely come in handy when the school year rolled around, but I was still undecided about keeping it. Molly and I certainly needed to have a long talk.

Those last two days went by slowly and work dragged. My head was totally in the clouds and I'm surprised I was able to bring the right food to the right tables most of the time. Luckily, it was early in the week and happened to also be lousy weather-wise, so things weren't terribly busy.

On the day before Molly was due to come home, I went shopping. I decided that I should spend some of the money, and as Amanda suggested, I wanted to use some of it to get Molly somthing special. Her birthday was a couple of weeks away and I spent most of my half-day off searching high and low for something to get her. Although she didn't flaunt it, she had just about anything she needed. I couldn't really compete with her parents much in the gift department, and I assumed that she had bought herself a bunch of clothes while in Europe and wasn't going to need any more for a while. I settled on jewelry, picking up a pair of earrings that she had seen one night when we roamed the downtown area of Chatham. They weren't really expensive or fancy, but she had loved them and for some reason had decided not to buy them that night. I also bought something to share with her in private.

That evening, while sitting at home relaxing, the phone rang. My parents were out, so I answered and was shocked to hear Molly's father on the line. He asked if I would like to go to the airport with him to pick up Molly, her sister and mother the next day. He was hiring a limo to make sure that he had enough room for what was sure to be a few extra suitcases. He laughed, knowing that the three ladies had probably spent a small fortune on clothes and gifts. Without much time to think about it, I agreed to go, having the day off and wanting to see Molly as soon as I could. After hanging up, I realized that I would have to spend the 90-minute car ride "chatting" with the father of the girl with whom I was regularly having sex. I had been to Molly's house several times over the summer already, but hadn't ever really had any extended conversations with either of her parents. I got the impression from Molly that they were very "modern" and understood that she was a 20-year-old (soon to be 21-year-old) woman and no longer their "little girl". I was nervous as hell, though, about having to fill a ride that long with conversation with this man.

As I headed for my bedroom, I noticed the pile of mail on the kitchen counter and realized there was a letter from Molly. My mother had kindly set it aside so that I would notice it, but I had gotten a bite to eat while shopping and hadn't been to the kitchen. Only the phone call from Molly's father had made me go to the kitchen and there was the letter. It stood out because of the strange postage and 'AIR MAIL' stamp. I was shocked to actually have anything arrive by mail before Molly got home. On the rare occasion I had gotten anything by mail from Europe -- usually a postcard from a relative or friend visiting -- it always arrived after I had already heard all about it in person.

I picked up the letter and headed upstairs. The letter was pretty heavy and when I opened it, I understood why. Inside was a two page letter from Molly describing all the fun things they had done so far. They had started in Rome, spent a day in Venice and were now -- or had been when she wrote -- in Cannes, on the French Riviera. Very heady stuff for a local boy from Cape Cod who hadn't been much further than Florida. She sounded like she was having a great time, but mentioned missing me a few times which buoyed my spirits a bit.

Along with the letter was another, bright red envelope with 'PRIVATE' written on the outside in big block letters. Below that, in slightly smaller letters was written 'Open when alone' and on either side of the second line were little bits of artwork, lips and hearts and such. Molly wasn't super-artistic, but she got her point across. My parents weren't due to be home for another hour at least, so I got comfortable on my bed and opened up the thicker red envelope.

Inside this were about two dozen pictures and as I went through them, a bulge started to form in my shorts. Not sure how or when Molly had had the photos developed, but I'm guessing that the technician in the French "Photo Hut" counted his blessings on this day. I could only guess that Molly had had her sister take most of the pictures. The milder ones showed Molly and in a few photos, Elizabeth, enjoying the topless beaches in France and looking fabulous in their skimpy bikini bottoms, breasts on full display. As I flipped through the first few pictures, the scene changed to Molly's hotel room and showed her all soaped up in the shower, fingers working in her most private areas and obvious enjoyment on her face. The final third of the shots showed her on the bed in various sexy poses, culminating in what I can only assume was a final pair of pictures of her in the throws of a serious orgasm, her legs tightly clamped on her own hands and an almost pained expression on her face. Elizabeth -- I could only hope it was her taking the pictures -- was a heck of a photographer and really caught Molly in some great poses and with some super sexy looks on her face. By the time I reached the last photo, my hand was doing a number on my cock and my shorts and boxers were down around my ankles as I laid on the bed. The pictures were incredibly hot.

I flipped through the pictures one more time stroking my cock the whole time and then went on to the letter, which smelled faintly of what I can only assume was an expensive French perfume. It wasn't Molly's usual scent, but I hoped she was bringing back more of it. I began to read:

Hi Sweetie!

Do you like the pictures? I knew you would and I knew you would look through them before reading this letter. Naughty boy! Elizabeth took them for me and I think she enjoyed taking them as much as I enjoyed posing for them. Is your cock good and hard? I'm guessing it is unless Amanda totally wore you out! Hope you've been having fun. Can't wait to feel what you learned.

I was so hot for you today. I had to take these pictures and have Elizabeth help me. Mom was out shopping for the day so we were a little naughty. Sitting on the beach we had one of the cabana attendants help us with the first few pictures, then we got on a roll. Even on the beach I had my fingers in my bikini bottom. The warm sun on our bare breasts and me thinking of you all day... oh it felt so good! I was practically dripping by the time I got back to the hotel room. Elizabeth and I are sharing a room and my mother is in her own room, so we decided to finish off the roll of film. The guy at the one-hour photo practically died when we came back for the pictures.

After coming off the beach, I started in the shower, as you probably saw, and got myself squeaky clean. I washed every inch of myself, paying special attention to my tits and pussy, rubbing them and pretending it was you. When my fingers hit my crotch, I couldn't stop. Getting horny all day thinking about you and what you must be doing with Amanda had me SO HOT! I had my fingers in my pussy and was working over my clit frantically, wishing it was you but knowing that when you got these pictures, you'd probably enjoy them. I hope you're REALLY hard and alone and have your cock in your hand. Pretend it's me stroking you, OK? I worked myself into a frenzy in the shower and came so hard I nearly collapsed.

I was STILL horny, though, so I dried up a little and hopped on the bed, still hot and wet. My hands worked over my breasts first and my nipples got really hard. I pinched them a little and held them up to my mouth, licking each nipple in turn. I know you love how I can do that! Can you see me all hot on this bed, licking and stroking my own breasts, my pussy just sopping wet? Oh... this is getting me all hot again writing this. Have you cum yet? If you have, I think I can get you hard again with the rest of my story!

After working on my tits for a while, I moved my hands down between my legs. Elizabeth was pretty heated up at this point, too and was having a hard time taking pictures. I stroked the inside of my thighs and rolled onto my stomach reaching one hand between my legs and sticking my ass up in the air. I know how you love fucking me like this and I had two fingers in my pussy doing a very bad impersonation of your hard cock. I was driving them in and out and then started to use my second hand to stimulate my clit. This started to do the trick and I was coming again even harder and more intense than the first time, my pussy spasming around my fingers.

Then when I looked over, Elizabeth was setting down the camera and she was attacking her own body. She looked so turned on! Her bikini top was loose around her neck and one hand was working on her breasts, massaging and squeezing each in turn and pinching the rock-hard nipples. The other hand was at her pussy, her bikini bottom down around her ankles as she sat on the edge of her bed. God it was hot. Elizabeth and I have always been pretty open, but I'd never actually watched her masturbate before. She was really into it and I could see her juices just glistening on her fingers. Soon both hands were between her legs. She mimicked my actions and put two fingers into her cunny, thrusting in and out, faster and faster. Her moans became louder and louder and as her second hand worked over her clit, she screamed and orgasmed for several seconds. She was so loud, my mother knocked on the adjoining room's door to make sure we were OK. We played dumb and said it was just the T.V.

I'm writing this on the plane as we fly up to Paris, and my hands are in my pants again. It was a late flight and both Mom and Elizabeth are asleep in the seats next to me. I've got a blanket in my lap, but the thrill of maybe getting caught is making me so hot. That... and thinking about you again and what you're doing while reading this. My pussy is dripping again. I can't wait to get home and have YOU do this to me. Oh yeah! I just came again. I barely touched my clit and I just exploded. I better sign off, but I hope you came. Enjoy the pictures until I get home!

Miss you lots and I'll see you soon!

Love,
Molly

Needless to say, I easily came during that reading and then looked over the pictures a third time and re-read the letter, and came again! My only complaint was that it might have been better as phone sex, but then I wouldn't have had the pictures to remind me of it. I hid the pictures and the letter and fell fast asleep in no time, once again dreaming of Molly.

I arrived at Molly's house about 15-minutes before the limo was due to arrive. It was pretty early in the morning and I was going to cut it a little closer than 15 minutes to reduce the time that I'd have to chat with Molly's father, but I didn't want to look like I wasn't anxious to see Molly either. Or... just look like a jerk for being late. As it turned out, the limo ride to Boston was quite pleasant. Molly's father, John, was a nice guy. We talked about Molly a bit, but not the heavy what-are-your-intentions-with-my-daughter talk, and he seemed genuinely happy that she was seeing me. He said he had never seen her happier. He and I shared a lot of the same interests in sports, so we talked about baseball and hockey and golf to pass the time. He talked a little bit about his business being a senior vice-president with a major bank in Boston and the 90 minutes went by quickly and -- even better -- painlessly and we arrived at the airport about 15 minutes before the flight was due in. When we checked the ARRIVALS screens, we saw that the flight from Heathrow was right on time and made our way to Gate 7 of Logan's Terminal 'E' to greet the ladies as they deplaned.