Copyright © 2007 The Thinking Horndog
It was a Wednesday night, and the hotel pool was deserted -- no screaming, splashing kids, no hippos in one-pieces. Just me, lounging in the Jacuzzi, trying to read while keeping the water from splashing on my paperback. Yeah, stupid, I know, but I was bored... I'd negotiated the hallways and elevators in sweatpants over my swimsuit, and now, having determined that the place saw little or no traffic, I was trying to use the fancy facilities that the hotel charged an arm and a leg for.
I looked up when they came in; it was a couple, watching me out of the corners of their eyes while they hit the towel rack for two apiece. Actually, I'd seen them pause at the door and discuss it before coming in, but I'd ignored them then, waiting to see if they would commit to anything. I was prepared to leave, but not without a request...
They wandered over and I got a closer look. The woman was maybe forty, one of those beach drapes covering her swimsuit. She wasn't huge, but she wasn't tiny -- somewhere in the well-padded middle range, mouse-brown hair showing streaks of silver AND gold. He was tall and lanky -- almost wasted- looking -- and balding on top, but he combed what he had back over his head smoothly, and it looked okay. He'd worn a T-shirt over his swim trunks to get through the hallways in.
As they got closer, I discovered an anomaly -- and it confirmed my belief that I knew what was up. On top, the woman's beach drape covered nothing -- there was no swimsuit top beneath it. I glanced away while I decided whether I was a big chicken or not, then put down my book.
In my experience, it isn't a party until the woman says it is -- and they're generally chicken. I could surrender my place or drive them off, or... what? What would work? I looked up at them; the woman was losing her pluck -- reality was trumping her little fantasy...
That was it! Although they generally hold the keys to the situation, it's considered impolite to challenge them directly, largely because they WILL cut and run, so I addressed him while focusing on them both, "All right, you're not kidding anybody -- I know the little fantasy that brought the pair of you down here. I ALSO know, though, that in that fantasy you weren't alone..."
The man went poker-faced -- and the woman blushed to a fine, medium red from her hairline to the place where her skin disappeared below the beach drape -- and, theoretically, well beyond.
'Bingo!' I thought. Whether they'd discussed it or not -- and I was betting that if they HAD, they'd lied to each other -- both of their individual versions of this encounter included another male. The woman turned her head and opened her mouth, but her significant other shook his head, so she closed it and looked back at me, still hugely embarrassed.
There are limited opportunities to get control of a sexual situation from a woman in this day and age -- unlike the vast majority of history -- but I'd gambled on one of them. A direct challenge will sometimes cut through the bullshit -- because it's a male-male thing, the woman instinctively gives up control. That's what happened here; the guy eyed me for a few seconds, neither of us giving anything away, then muttered to his woman, "Do it."
Bang! The shoe was on the other foot. Now she was obligated -- AND off the hook for the decision. Biting her lip, she reached down and pulled the beach drape over her head.
If I was making a porn video, she would have had a pair of monster augmented jugs on her chest, pointing straight out like a couple of rounds from an artillery piece -- and almost as firm. Welcome to the real world; she sported a pair of somewhat shapeless B to C cup breasts that appeared to have slid down her chest just a bit. The initial assessment I got was brief, though, because once that drape was off she was in a tearing hurry to get down into the water. I shifted to my right so she had somewhere to go once she got down the ladder and she headed for the point opposite, going neck deep as soon as she could -- which was a bit hard, since when you sat down properly the water topped out at about nipple level.
I shifted my attention to the guy as he followed her down the steps. Why? Because continued challenge kept the ball in his court, and that was where I wanted it. That being the case, I made sure they got equal time; I didn't ogle her any more than I eyed him -- and I kept the poker face that said, "You guys don't have the guts..."
The first solid response to this I got was that he pulled her onto his lap. This thoroughly defeated her attempts to hide her breasts, but she didn't fight it. Even I could tell from how her eyes widened that he had pressed an erection against the crack of her ass. He also neatly scotched any effort on her part to cover her breasts with her hands by trapping her arms with the arm he drew her onto his lap with. Given the options of fighting her man and making a scene and showing me her breasts, she chose the latter, blushing as I made a point of examining them.
Having delivered the situation solidly into male control, I sat back to await developments. They weren't long in coming; leaning up to eye me, he whispered in her ear for a moment -- and she relaxed and settled back against him, the tension seeping out of her. From her reaction, I could pretty much guess what he told her -- something on the order of, "He's right, you know. It's more fun this way." Of COURSE they wanted witnesses -- else why bother to wander down here to have sex in a public place? Once she got past that admission, then the REAL fun began. Settling back, she even smiled a little and took the opportunity to arch her back a bit. The game was on, now, fully -- she was in exhibitionist mode. I smiled just a bit to encourage further activity.
Watching me, he reached around her to collect a breast and maul the nipple; both of her areolas were crinkled masses and she was showing a half- inch of Number One HB pencil eraser-sized nipples -- not your standard stuff, but the big ones on the fat pencils that first-graders use. In the process, he freed her arms; that fight was over. She sucked in air through distended nostrils and put her head back into the juncture of his head and shoulder. I nodded appreciatively, congratulating him on his control of things -- even though we both knew that I had opened the door.
This went on for a couple of minutes. She watched me watch him play with her titties through lowered lids, while he watched me to see how far he could go before I attempted to get in on things. I knew that this wasn't the point where I could invite myself yet, though -- they weren't committed, yet, even though they WERE standing in the doorway. No, they needed to be farther along...
I pretended not to notice when her hand went between her legs, knowing that if I failed to react, she could kid herself that I hadn't seen it or the subsequent movements of her arm that said she was masturbating. Instead, I eyed him, letting HIM know I knew with a quirk of my lips. He grinned; suddenly, we were a conspiracy. The alliances had shifted; it was now male against female. Now all we had to do was wait until she was too aroused to argue and we could step things up -- and she was doing a good deal of THAT work herself!
When she started backing her ass into his crotch rhythmically, it was time to move on. He whispered in her ear momentarily, got a nod while she watched me warily, then he gently shifted her to a position beside him. Then he made adjustments under the water and his trunks surfaced, to be placed nonchalantly on the spa edge and worked under a towel, one-handed.
"Now you," he murmured. It was the first thing he'd said in a while loud enough for me to hear. Watching me like a hawk, the woman went through the gyrations necessary to remove her suit bottoms under water, then did as her man had, hiding them under her beach cover. That done, she returned to his lap, being careful about how she settled there. What he did with his hand was a dead giveaway, though; he was holding his cock down so she could sit with it in her crotch as she settled onto his lap. They weren't fucking yet, but they were going to.
I know what you're thinking -- "Okay, NOW you get out of your trunks, too, right?"
Wrong. It was still too early. I would have been inviting myself, and while it would have been more difficult, it would still have been possible for them to disengage -- and it would have been irritating enough to them that the guy might even decide to take a swing at me for messing things up. No, it was time to settle back and wait for them to move things to the next level. The most I could do -- and I did it -- was to smile encouragement, settling back and relaxing and watching.
The woman eyed me, smiling, having called my bluff. She was fully into the situation, now, and actively demonstrating how brave she was. I encouraged this by smiling a little sheepishly, letting her think she had the upper hand. This egged her on; she started being more obvious about what she was doing, which at this point was holding her man's cock against her pussy while she slid back and forth on it. They were dry-humping, technically -- but in a VERY wet environment...
This didn't last long; they were both hot and he was hard and it wasn't as if he hadn't been there before. There was no good reason to fool around too much, so after less than a minute she raised herself a bit, fumbled with her hand to position his probe at her opening, and settled onto him, grinning triumphantly.
.... There is more of this story ...