The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Martha stepped out into the almost-dark of the early morning, feeling very daring without her swimsuit. She stretched, her arms going back behind her body, pulling her breasts taut and feeling – just so aware of – her nakedness. It really was very early to be up and so unlike what she would do back in England. For her early, let alone so early, would have been unheard of and completely out of character for she was normally a stay-in-bed, quite content to dose beneath the covers and not getting up until she absolutely had to; but today was different. Martha listened but there was no sound, no human sound, but then came the whirr of an insect – the sound of the world just thinking of waking up. Martha moved out onto the patio and poolside of the holiday villa. The air was warm, as warm as the night before: so very different from Manchester back in England where the rain seemed interminable day on day and, certainly this summer, looking back over July the weather had been disappointing.

Her plan, a plan hatched the night before, was to get up really early without waking anyone (done), leave the villa naked (done), wander around the patio and bit of garden naked (underway), go for a skinny dip in the pool and then lie on one of the sun loungers as the sun came up masturbating to a fantasy in her head before putting her swimsuit on, having another dip and waiting for her family to get up and have breakfast. She had lain in bed the night before, fingers playing, imagining the warm sun on her sex and deciding on her plan. The prospect had been exciting.

The swim was good. Slipping into the water without her black (or red) swimsuit on or her pink bikini had been deliciously naughty. Just looking down and seeing the water lap at her naked sex had seemed both daring and wanton. It felt different swimming in the nude, no constriction and a consequent feeling of freedom. With nothing to hold her breasts still, they bobbed about a little in the water; Martha gave them a squeeze—she did feel sexy and so naughty like this. And sex was on her mind, looking at her breasts made her think of men, what would it be like to be in the water with a naked man, if her breasts moved about so freely what would his penis and balls do? Move all over the place she thought—she’d like to see that and watch as he swam through the water, nice little narrow bottom just above the water, strong arms and legs working and that sooo interesting organ just hanging there, glimpsed as he turned or visible beneath his bottom as his legs opened and closed in breaststroke. She would, of course, like to reach out and hold it, feel it respond and move in her hand.

Twenty lengths later (it wasn’t a very big pool) she pulled herself out and stood, in the half light, looking around at all she remembered from the day before, feeling the warmth of the early morning; there was no hurry about drying herself and she wandered about a little enjoying the feel of her nakedness before roughly towelling herself dry—though not, of course, the already developing wetness between her legs (that felt sooo good). The sun was almost showing itself, there was an orange glow over the adjoining villa, and it was time to move onto the next stage of her plan—a spell on a sun lounger. Luckily the villas were well separated, so there was no overlooking and certainly not any chance of being seen where the sun loungers were. Her fingers ran through the hair where her thighs joined, seeking the little valley, and then she brushed her clit with her fingers in anticipation—it would certainly not do to be seen by neighbours doing what she had in mind. Her little fantasy was already in draft in her head, ready for her to spread her thighs wide, wide open for the sun, to feel its warmth heating her as her fingers teased and probed. She had the startings of the fantasy in her mind but had not explored it as yet; she wanted it fresh and sexy in her head as she wanked. It involved the big black boy she’d seen on the beach yesterday, only she was going to have two boys in her fantasy, one in a white swimming costume (just like the boy’s—it had looked so good, as had the bulge in it; not an erection unfortunately—how cool would that have been, seeing his cock poking out of the waistband!) and the other in a...

Her fantasy was starting to get warmed up as she dropped the towel and walked towards the sun loungers, when she heard a noise from the next-door villa of someone breathing quickly – a totally unexpected and unwelcome interruption. At first she could not believe it. How could anyone else be up at this hour? How dare he/she spoil her plan! She crept over to the wall and peered over. Cool or cool!!! Not a disaster after all. It was the boy from the next-door villa; she’d passed him on the road, going into that villa the day before though she hadn’t spoken to him. He was on a sun lounger and (wow) like Martha he had not put a swimsuit on and was completely naked but, better still, he was wanking, yes the way boys did (she understood) with his fist going up and down the shaft of his penis. (she had not seen that before). She stared, enthralled and excited (her hand rubbed her sex) for a good minute. Should she wait before he came (she’d never seen that) and then announce her presence? Talk about coitus interruptus! Well, not coitus but wankus interruptus (or whatever the Latin was. That was not a word in her Latin textbook certainly). She imagined the boy, suddenly disturbed, frantically trying to hide an ejaculating cock (wow. How long did an ejaculation go on for, what was it like? Would she be able to see it?), as it went everywhere (if that’s how it was).

“Hello,” she said simply. The way he jumped up from the sun lounger was sooo amusing, first looking wildly at her and then for something to cover him—for his erection was standing, bobbing around, in front of him (sooo amusing, but sooo interesting), pointing first one way and then the other as he searched around but there was no towel or anything to hand. Martha bit her lip; despite the half-light she was getting a really good look at it, shiny head and all.

“I had a swim too,” Martha said. Despite her delight at this unexpected vision, she wanted to spare his embarrassment, for she was a little sorry for him, and admitted, “I was going to do just what you are doing but then I heard you.”

The boy gaped.

“I’m Martha, come over here and shake hands so we can introduce ourselves properly.”

At first undecided, clearly still shocked by being discovered, the boy decided he might as well comply and came across, climbing over the wall, his erection still half showing but now dropping away in his embarrassment.

“Er, Ben,” he said and held out his hand. Martha took it, conscious that, moments before, it had been exercising his organ (cool).

“Martha,” she replied, “isn’t it lovely this early in the morning, so beautifully warm yet still not light.” She was trying to sound normal, just conversational. Poor boy he was sooo embarrassed.

Ben was quite clearly looking at her, looking at her nakedness, looking at her breasts and the vee of fine blond curls not really hiding her little girl’s slit. She stared too at his now subsided cock. What would it be like to have one of those always hanging in front of you, quite a nuisance she supposed, but wasn’t it sooo interesting!

He answered, “Yeah, I like the morning. I’ve been getting up early all week.”

“Wanking every morning. Wow!”

Ben looked embarrassed again, “Er, sort of...”

“How do you do sort of?” asked Martha mischievously.

“Yeah, well—yes, I mean.”

“Cool. I’ve only just arrived, day before yesterday. Did you think the same as I did how fun and cool it would be to get up without clothes and come out here and walk around, swim and wank?”

Ben was clearly taken aback by a girl’s easy use of the word, ‘wank.’

“Yeah. Just like that. I am sorry; I didn’t know you were there. Never heard anybody before.”

“Come on let’s go to my sun loungers and wank together.”

“Huh?”

“It’d be really cool, I can watch you and you can watch me.”

The idea obviously appealed, Ben’s cock was rising again. Martha’s mouth opened.

“Wow Ben, how’d you do that? Don’t you have to touch it?”

“No Martha, if I think about sex up it comes.” He was embarrassed again.

“Could be embarrassing on the beach in a swimsuit.” She was thinking of her fantasy, the black boy and the white swimsuit and his erect cock poking out of the waistband.

“Yeah, well, I take emergency measures, lie on my front ‘til it comes down.”

“Suppose it’s like my nipples, they go all hard, see?” and she lifted her breasts to show Ben.

“They’re really nice, Martha, you’ve got really nice ti... nice breasts, I mean, yeah and nipples. You’ve got really big, um whatever the brown discs around you’re nipples are called. I like them.

Martha was pleased; she’d actually been rather self-conscious of her big areolae crowning her breasts, so much bigger than her friends.

They were sitting on the loungers now. Ben was recovering, getting bolder now.

“You start, I’ve already had a long session.”

It was one thing the idea of session wanking together, it was quite another to actually do it, and the more so solo, in front of a boy or indeed anyone. Martha was pleased she was already excited (hard nipples and a certain familiar soppiness between her legs)—her body was already underway. “Oh, OK then.” She bit her lip and raised her hands to her breasts and began fondling them, her fingers lightly brushing the undersides up to the nipples. She stared at Ben’s cock – hey there was no need for her fantasy.

Ben in his turn was staring wide eyed at Martha’s hands working her breasts, playing with her nipples; his eyes flicked to her patch of curly fair hair, her pink slit showing through, before returning to her breasts. Martha’s fingers were tweaking her nipples now. Ben swallowed hard as she put her fingers in her mouth, wetting them, before returning to a nipple and moistening it. She in turn was still looking at his cock and was delighted when Ben’s hand went to it and gently started moving the foreskin (oh yes she knew all about the anatomy). Her right hand moved downwards to stroke her slit. In a moment she would be letting her hand go between her thighs, she’d need to spread them a bit, and it was with a mixture of embarrassment and wanton excitement that she knew this would, given the sun’s rays were now touching her legs, reveal all to Ben. She would have this naked, wanking boy looking at her sex and all her private folds, her vagina and clit—even her bottom hole (definitely embarrassing—even gross). It didn’t stop her and it was very clear Ben wanted to look—he was moving to see. Slowly Martha lay back on the lounger and opened her thighs, not just a little bit as she had first intended but wider and wider, exposing herself fully to this naked boy from next door and the warm rays of the rising sun—just as her plan had required (a plan now somewhat changed—but plans should change in the light of developments and unexpected happenings).

Martha’s fingers touched herself, her eyes closing. Oh yes, she was wet all right, her fingers played, circling her sex, teasing herself. She opened her eyes, Ben had lent even closer and his fist was slowly moving up and down his cock. A thought came to Martha, was she tempting him too much? What if he lost control and forced himself on her. The idea both repelled and excited her. What would it be like to have that cock inside her? She’d like that but only with her permission and she couldn’t give that, she wasn’t on the pill and they didn’t have any of those ‘things’.

“No touching,” she said.

Ben looked disappointed.

“We are just wanking together, friendly like, and shouldn’t you be lying down, as you were before?”

“I like watching you Martha, and... oh yeah!”

The idea of a cock inside her had made her the more excited and she had brought her fingers together and had just pushed them into her. It was this insertion that had caused Ben’s (verbal) ejaculation.

“Now you be quiet, I need to concentrate.”

Martha’s fingers worked, flicking her clit, moving the little hood, with her legs wide spread and her hips bucking a little against her fingers. All the while the sun was getting warmer, its rays both illuminating and warming her sex. The feeling was lovely. It was better than her fantasy (she could use that another time) just watching Ben’s hand on his cock and what it was doing. His hand was moving faster now, the foreskin alternately pulled back to reveal the shiny head and then covering it, just leaving the little hole at the top. Martha could see a bead of liquid on the tip, was that the ejaculation? It seemed to be running a little over the head—surely there was more? The movement was making his balls bounce beneath the cock. She’d have to have a better look at them another time—what did they feel like? She was close now, concentrate, oh yes concentrate, nearly there. Her eyes stayed on Ben’s cock as he still sat working at it, his eyes in turn on her fingers churning her sex.

She was about to come, she could feel the moment almost on her and was about to shut her eyes tight and surrender to the waves of pleasure when her eyes went wide. It was happening, that thing she had heard and read about, Ben was coming—so that was what it was like! A dollop of something shot out of the end of his penis flying up into the air and catching his chin, and then another came splashing onto his breast. It was sooo exciting, giving her extra impetus and a funny feeling inside. As Ben’s penis released its third creamy shot it happened and Martha’s orgasm burst onto her. She came gasping in waves of pleasure but her eyes never leaving the still spasming cock.

They were wanking together and having a mutual orgasm.

Martha rested, eyes closed, feeling sooo good in the afterglow of her orgasm, feeling the delicious heat of the sun on her sex. What a place to get sunburn! She’d have to ask Ben to rub anti-sun cream in (wicked!). She opened her eyes. Ben hadn’t moved and the aftermath of his own orgasm, his ejaculation was running down his chest, was in his curly pubic hair and coating his still erect cock. Martha sat up on her lounger and stared. The creamy liquid still seemed to be oozing from his pee hole (‘Urethra’—and not just for pee very clearly—double cool!). The male orgasm was clearly a rather messy affair.

“Wow Ben, cool, it shoots so far. Spurt, spurt, spurt. Cool. Can I do that tomorrow?”

“What!”

“Yeah, you wank me: I wank you. How about that? “ A bit of touching, then, after all. “I want to hold that and make it go.”

Ben nodded with a big smile on his face. Martha could see his thoughts – like, was his holiday suddenly looking up or not!

Martha went on, “a lot of stuff comes out doesn’t it. They say sex is messy. Certainly is, look at you, and I’ve got all this.” She indicated the wetness running onto her thighs and the spongy soppiness of her vulva. “I’d let you touch only look what you’ve got on your hands! Best kept away from vaginas, I think, unless you want babies and I don’t.”

Ben’s cock was softening fast. Martha was fascinated, “Bye, bye little cock, see you big and strong tomorrow!”

It was time, thought Martha, to go for her swim (back on plan) leaving a rather sticky Ben to climb, dripping semen, over the garden wall to go and clean himself up; a sticky but very happy Ben.

The holiday had suddenly come alive for Martha. What a wicked surprise!

Of course they saw each other during the day across the villa wall or on the beach but it was not until the next morning that Martha really spoke to Ben again. She was up early again and standing in the doorway of the villa as before, stretching, She had a liaison with a naked boy—how cool was that? She could make out a shadowy figure in the half-light over at Ben’s villa and she walked across, all the time thinking how naughty this was. She could feel herself becoming wet just at the prospect. He was her side of the wall.

“Morning Ben,” and she kissed his cheek. It brought her close to him and she felt just the brush of his penis on her thigh (cool).

“Your pool or mine?” he said

“Let’s walk a bit first.”

They walked down to the gate leading out onto the road, not touching, and not talking. It was still dark and silent. They stood looking out.

“How far have you walked like this?”

“Huh?”

“Naked—liked that.”

“Just around the villa, I suppose.”

“Not any further? Didn’t you want to walk down the track to the cliffs or the sea? I’d thought of that. How cool it would be to be out without a stitch on.”

“You might be seen.”

“Nobody about surely? We could hide. Imagine crouching naked in the bushes as someone walks by. Anyway we could take our swimsuits in case and for coming back if it was too light. We could swim in the sea.” Martha warmed to her theme. “We could take snorkels. Hey, how cool would that be diving naked, seeing each other underwater?”

“Yeah, maybe. Let’s swim in the pool.”

“Can I hold it?”

“What?”

“Your cock, silly!”

Ben was clearly quite beside himself as they walked together to the poolside. The girl from next door was holding his penis in her hand and moving it around. His erection came up in seconds.

“Huh, wow, cool! It just grew in my hand,” exclaimed Martha, “it’s all hard now.” She’d liked that. First taking the limp thing in her hand, all soft and so different from anything she had and before she had even tugged it to pull Ben in the direction of the pool, she had felt the thickening and it had just grown, over doubled in size, just like that; and instead of being all limp, soft and hanging down, so she had had to lift it up, it was now hard and very definitely standing almost upright, a real handle to hold onto—and was she happy to do that? Oh yes (wicked!).

The pool was still in the half darkness, there was no breeze at all to ruffle its smooth surface. Quietly they stepped in together and begun to swim. It was companionable not overly sexual—that was about to come when they reached the loungers.

“You can share my towel,” Martha said as they climbed up the steps from the pool, naked together.

Martha looked down at Ben’s penis, which had lost its rigidity, she grinned—she looked forward to it growing in her hand again—she’d liked that.

It was lighter now, the sun not risen but an orange glow showed dawn was not far away. The sky was already a pale blue above fading to almost a green before the pale orange of the horizon. Martha lay down on a lounger stretching her arms above her head and pushing her breasts up towards Ben.

“OK you can touch me now.”

Martha giggled as Ben’s penis twitched and all by itself pumped up to full erection. Never mind, she could feel it grow in her hand another time.

“It’s so cool how it does that all by itself. Hey, you’ll have to dive for the sand if we meet on the beach because all I’ll have to say is something like, ‘I love making your cock all hard’ and it’ll happen right in your swimsuit—a great big bulge. Does it pop out of the waistband?” Martha hadn’t forgotten the black boy in his white swimsuit.

“Not unless I let it, it goes to one side or the other.” A practical answer.

“I’d like to pull them down when your cock is all hard and see it spring out!”

“Martha, you say the oddest things for a girl.”

“Girls like sex too, you know, and they like their breasts touched—are you going to touch them or do I have to do it all by myself?” Her arms were still above her head making Martha look quite defenceless. She moved one thigh a little above the other, a very sexual gesture.

Ben knelt beside the lounger and his hands went to her breasts in a second.

“No, don’t just grab them, do it gently, lightly, with fingertips at first.”

Ben complied, his fingers just stroking up her breasts towards her nipples, but not touching them. Martha sighed as she felt the soft touch on her still wet breasts. The first boy to touch them ever and wasn’t it simply wicked! The feeling was much better than when she did it herself. Her thighs opened a little, she could feel herself starting to get really wet. In a little while Ben’s fingers would be down there, even sneaking inside her and touching her clit as well (bet he rubs too hard, so she would have to direct him (cool!). His fingers were getting closer to her nipples but he was being ever so good in not hurrying now. Her head turned to stare at his erect cock. Ben’s fingers were on her nipples now, rolling their hardness between his fingers. Martha closed her eyes, the feeling was just sooo good!

It wasn’t long before one set of fingers began sliding downwards, heading towards her tummy and beyond. A finger in her tummy button (it tickled), then stroking her curly hair before running up and down her crack (sooo exciting). Ben had got off his knees now and was bending over her, looking intently at her crotch. Martha’s eyes were drawn past his erect cock to the balls hanging beneath, hanging, she could see, in their sack (‘scrotum’ she remembered). She could see the egg shape of his balls (‘testes’) moulding the scrotum. The ball sack swung a little as he moved, reminding her a little of the boar pig she had seen on that farm visit a few years ago. How she’d stared at the size of his balls—they had seemed so rude just hanging there. Martha reached up with her hand and cupped Ben’s balls, lifting them up as if weighing them in her hand (she was actually). She squeezed.

“Careful, Martha, not too hard—that’ll hurt.”

With her fingertips she separated out one ball and felt its size.

“You’re hurting!”

“Sorry!”

Her fingers travelled further. There was nothing behind his balls, just skin, so very different from women. Oops, bottom hole. Well, that was just the same as hers!

Ben’s fingers were sliding between her thighs now, where she was wet. “Leave my clit for last,” she hissed.

“Where is it?”

“It’s like the end of your cock, all sensitive so don’t rub it straightaway, move slowly to it, like with my nipples.”

“Is that where you pee?”

Martha sniffed, hadn’t he done his homework on female anatomy? She had taken a great interest in male anatomy herself!

“Look,” she said opening her thighs really wide. It was sexy doing this, opening herself for a boy’s inspection of her sex. “See lips all around the edge, my vagina lower down, my bottom hole right down there just where yours is, above the vagina is my pee hole, see, and above that, see the little knob sticking up just before the little flap of skin, it’s not that big but sooo sensitive, that’s the clit.”

Ben was grinning as his fingers started tracing around Martha’s sex. It was obvious he liked Martha’s description and instruction and was very happy to do her bidding—happy to run his fingers, round and round in Martha’s wetness.

Martha watched him hold one hand up to his face and rub his wet fingers together, clearly marvelling at what he had on his fingers, examining its texture, even sniffing it (hmm!). Oh, (gross) he was licking his fingers now!

“Can I put a finger in you please, Martha?”

He’d asked! “Course you can.”

And he did, she could feel it wriggling inside, and then another slipped in.

“They go all the way in!”

“Ben, are you being stupid, of course they do—think what else has to go in there and that, I can see, is a lot longer than a finger.”

“But your hymen?”

So he had been studying female anatomy.

“Hairbrush handle,” she said shortly.

“Oh, right.”

Martha was pushing her hips against the invading fingers and could feel knuckles banging against her clit. It was good; she would orgasm like this in a few minutes. She bucked harder against his hand.

“Rub my clit lightly with thumb please Ben.”

Orgasm was in sight, Ben was actually doing it just right, thumb just moving on her clit, fingers stuffed up her and she in turn pushing against it. Her mouth opened as she screwed her eyes tight shut and surrendered herself to the electric spasms.

He was still looking at her face when she opened her eyes.

“You look really, really pretty when you come. Wish I had a camera.”

“Well I’m not being photographed like this,” she replied, “no way! Your turn, you lie down.”

Ben complied and Martha sat down across him, on his thighs, her open wet sex inches from his balls.

Ben could feel her wetness on the skin of his thighs.

Her fingers began to play with his balls again. “These are cool, Ben, they move independently, hey and you’ve got hair growing on them!”

Martha stroked him just behind the scrotum causing his penis to jump at the pleasurable sensation.

“Oh, you can move it!”

“Sort of.” Ben waggled his cock up and down to her great interest.

Her fingertips touched the base of the shaft and trailed upwards. “You’ve got a sort of ridge all the way up to the head,” she said examining the whole structure—is that where all the blood goes to pump it up? It’s all so big compared to, you know, when it’s not.”

Martha’s fist closed around the shaft and she began working the foreskin rather strongly and rather fast.

“Martha—as with you, gently and slowly. Too rough and it’s not very good; if you go too fast I come too quickly; you only speed up when I’m coming.”

“How do I know when?”

“I’ll tell you!”

Martha just used her thumb and forefinger causing Ben to smile contentedly, “Yeah, like that.”

It was obviously good for him, lying back with Martha’s nakedness so close, indeed very close as her exposed sex was actually touching his thighs—he was both manually and visually stimulated.

“Can’t I just dip in for a moment? All you’d have to do is come up the lounger a little way and you could just let yourself down on me and...oh... faster Martha, faster!” The idea had clearly had an effect on him.

Martha worked Ben’s cock, leaning forward to see what would happen and, just as the day before, Ben’s young cock spewed, the pulses of semen jetting way up his chest.

“Cool,” breathed Martha as she continued to wank Ben. Only when it seemed the flow had really stopped and he was beginning to soften did she release. She looked at her fingers. There was of course semen on them, sticky and gooey. She rubbed it between her fingers.

“And that is why you can’t dip in, Ben! I can see what would happen.”

They swam in the pool and talked a little longer but as the sun rose, Ben went back to his side of the wall, to his villa.

Martha was, of course, up bright and early the next morning. She had been so excited at the prospect that she had found difficulty getting to sleep—which was doubly frustrating as the sooner she was asleep, the sooner she would be awake for the morning. It had probably been her fault for going to bed too early. That had surprised her parents. Too much sun, fresh air and exercise they had said to each other. They were correct—sort of.

Ben and she kissed properly when they met, standing wrapped in each other’s arms in the half-light. It had been exciting for Martha to feel Ben’s cock pressed against her soft downy hair and the more so when she felt it growing as they kissed, feeling it sliding up her left thigh and up her tummy in a steady jerky movement as it hardened, then to stand to attention pressed against her tummy. It was all she could do to stop herself holding Ben tight round his neck and lifting herself up and impaling herself on his cock. Wouldn’t it be sooo good to fuck Ben, fuck him as he stood holding her? But she mustn’t, they or, more to the point, she, had no ‘protection.’

They swum first but when they got to the sun loungers Ben put forward a new idea. “Would you like me to kiss you ‘down there’ Martha, make you come that way.”

Martha was quite taken aback—oral sex, yes she had heard about it, even fantasised a bit, but here Ben was actually asking her if, if—the prospect of a tongue wriggling on her clit was sooo exciting but that meant in return she’d have to... to suck his cock. Her eyes dropped to it. It was rather big but not much more than a banana and she could get one of those in her mouth. Well she’d give it a go.

“Please, Ben,” she’d said lying down again.

He’d started on her breasts, just as the day before, and done really well—and she meant really well—as if he was more experienced than he was letting on. She’d ask him. But then the feel of his tongue on her inner thighs just above her knees was simply sooo erotic and he was sooo slow in moving his tongue upwards and so scrupulously fair licking each thigh in turn, that this quite put that question out of her mind. She was positively dripping by the time he was about 100cm from her sex. If he didn’t hurry up, she thought, she’d come without him even licking her clit once (awesome or what?).

Ben was at her outer lips now, circling all round. Could she open her thighs any wider, she doubted it, and then, bloody hell, he was licking around her vagina—unfuckingbelieveable! Martha’s eyes opened in astonishment and pleasure. Ben had stuck his tongue right in her and was wriggling it around and around. She was very close to coming and he hadn’t even touched her clit. Oh, oh pee hole now; oh, oh his tongue just tickling there, careful, careful she mustn’t let herself go—that would ruin the friendship! She was coming; she couldn’t stop herself, nerves building up to that great tingling feeling. What! Oh! Ben’s tongue was finally on her clit, just the tip running around and off she went and kept coming, her thighs clamping Ben’s head, trapping him in her sex.

Martha was still trembling when Ben prised himself away.

“Ben that was sooo wicked! And,” she giggled, “just look at your wet face—and that’s all my doing!”

Ben bent over Martha and kissed her on the lips.

“Eek,” she said, “gross, that’s my wetness you’re kissing me with.”

Ben’s hand went to Martha’s sex wetting his fingers and he brought the fingers up and licked before bringing them to Martha’s mouth. “Your turn,” and he rubbed them gently back and forth across her lips, “come on, you suck.”

And she did, her lips surrounding the fingers. After a time he pulled them away. Martha was about to say something.

“I know—gross,” laughed Ben, “come on let’s give you something bigger to suck on, a different fluid to try.”

“Oh, no Ben, you’re not coming in my mouth.”

“Why not? You can’t get babies that way.”

“No, I mean, I don’t like it.”

“Have you tried it?”

“No, but...”

“Well you can always pull away but I want you to try some. Fair’s fair.”

Ben straddled the lounger, his feet either side and his thighs widely spaced, his cock now centimetres from her face and his balls hanging below.

“Oh I…” said Martha, her usual confidence a little upset.

Ben eased himself up the lounger a bit more bringing his cock nearer and nearer to Martha’s face. She lifted it up so she could lick his balls first, she’d start there she thought, even take them one at a time into her mouth. Well, here goes. She could feel the shape of the testes with her tongue and, after a time, yes, it was nice to be gently sucking Ben’s vulnerability. Could she get the whole scrotum in at once? Yes. It was certainly funny for her to think she had a whole scrotum in her mouth and how odd it must be for Ben up there to be looking down and seeing his cock lying up her face, its head on her forehead and in her hair whilst her mouth sucked, must almost seem to be eating his balls! Ben tried to rise a bit but it was easy to restrain him by closing her mouth a bit more and holding on. Yes he had him! It was a pity she couldn’t talk, not possible with a scrotum in your mouth, or she could have got him to do anything she wanted, she had him in her power!

Of course she did release and now it was the main item. Martha looked at Ben’s cock, just inches from her face, its big plum head with the eye pointing at her. It was very close indeed and she could see it in detail, a little moisture was gathered around the eye, Ben’s pee hole. Martha thought it still wet from the swim until a little more appeared and a trickle started to run downwards.

“Ben, you’re leaking,” said Martha, “is that...”

“It’s just pre-cum. I leak a little if I’m excited long enough. It gets quite wet if I wank for a long time. It’s not wee if that’s what you were thinking!”

“No, I wasn’t. But that’s another reason not to dip! You don’t need to even come to get a girl pregnant!”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s sperm in that.”

Martha couldn’t now avoid at least tasting some semen if she was to suck Ben’s cock at all.

Well, she reasoned to herself, hadn’t he just had his face buried in her own lubrication? Her little pink tongue reached out and tentatively touched Ben right on the tip of his cock, on the little eye, wriggling the tip in the moisture. It was salty and not unpleasant. It was going to be all right.

“That’s great. Do it again!” He was staring, staring, watching Martha licking the end of his cock as he stood in his rather dominant position over her, cock hanging down and thrust at her face.

She obliged, teasing his pee hole with her tongue before, gradually, ever so slowly, she began to suck the plum into her mouth, her lips steadily widening into a large ‘O’ as they rode over the smooth surface.

Martha had Ben’s cock in her mouth now. Well just the head actually, and she could lick that, run her tongue over the smooth surface. Did he like that? It was funny that her tongue was actually rougher than the cock head: oh yes the tip of her tongue was smooth but the top was rough—was he too sensitive for the rasp of her tongue? She asked but no she was doing ‘fine,’ really well.

“Martha you really are an excellent... I mean you are doing just right. Don’t actually suck but lick, yes, like that, definitely like that!”

Martha lips now slipped further down the shaft, she was exploring how far she could take him, how much would go in her mouth—over half the shaft with ease. Despite her ban on photographs she admitted to herself she wouldn’t mind seeing herself from a third person perspective. What did she look like with Ben’s cock down her throat (well not really but...), what did it look like? She eased back a bit; it was easier just playing with the head, the plum.

Ben had obviously enjoyed the deeper sucking, both the feeling as well as the sight of his cock in Martha’s mouth. Standing over her as he was, he was very much in control of movement and he began a gentle rocking movement with his thighs causing his cock to alternately push into and retreat within Martha’s mouth. He felt a restraining and firm hand on his scrotum.

“I’ll control that, thank you, one enthusiastic lunge and you could choke me. Do that and it will hurt!”

Ben was docile and Martha licked on. Of course the added touch on his scrotum coupled with both the sensuous friction on his cock and the visual stimulation of Martha blowing him soon had the anticipated effect.

“Hey, Martha, ready? Here I come...”

Martha could feel the spasm before the first dollop of semen shot into her mouth, she tried keeping the head in her mouth, maintain the movement of her tongue sweeping across the head but the sudden arrival of the warm semen and its quantity were too much for her. She pulled back, or rather pushed Ben away, allowing the cock to squirt freely—and it certainly did that—on her face, in her hair, off her chin onto her chest. It was salty and a little slimy but Martha didn’t spit, she swallowed. It really wasn’t too bad but there seemed an awful lot of it. A bit cross with herself for letting go, she sucked the cock back into her mouth, licking off any semen on it and finding it was still oozing a little. With a big grin she held onto the cock letting it soften in her mouth, Ben could not get away because Martha still held his balls in her hand. The more it softened, the more Martha could take into her mouth until she had the whole shaft in her mouth, curled around her tongue (Hey, wicked). Eventually she released him.

“OK?” She asked.

Ben nodded, “You’re a bit of a mess, sorry.”

Martha felt her face and discovered it was in her hair as well, she rubbed her hands together but that did no good, they seem covered with the stuff, so she wiped them down her thighs.

“Yes, just a bit—I think a swim might be a good idea.”

“My place,” said Ben, “I’m the only one who’ll be up for hours yet.”

It was good just quietly swimming together in the sunlight, post orgasm, before Martha nipped back over the wall.

Martha wanted to be daring the next morning and walk down to the beach naked. Ben had been happy to comply with her idea—he seemed happy to be led by her. With towels and swimsuits bundled under their arms they walked quickly across the road in the dark and down the path. Even at this hour it was warm. No one was to be seen. It was exciting both feeling naked and in the daring, the slight risk of discovery. Martha glanced at Ben walking beside her, his soft penis swinging from side to side as he walked—rather like the unrestrained swing of her own breasts, she thought—the floppy bits of human sexuality!

Would discovery actually be exciting—not by her own parents obviously—but a stranger? She could imagine the disapproval of a woman, but the nodding appreciation of a man, the winking at Ben for being lucky. What if it was the black boy in the white swimsuit? Would he stop and chat. She could imagine the casual conversation as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Could she ask him, the thing she really wanted to know, were black boy’s cocks really bigger?

“Can I see?” she might say, “why don’t you walk down to the beach naked too?”

The excitement of walking with two naked boys, one on each arm. Would she dare say it, make some joke about standing in a lady’s presence or dare do it—get them both hard. A cock in each hand. Would she suck them both, her mouth moving from one to the other, would she wank them off, what would they both do to her? Of course the two of them could hold her down, fuck her, impregnate her one after the other and there was nothing she could do and nothing she could complain about. She had gone walking naked, she had touched them first, and she had led them on. “Yes, officer, I did kneel and suck them. I wasn’t forced.” And she did desperately want to be fucked, she wanted a cock inside her, wanted Ben on top of her—in her.

“Ben,” she said. He must have been wondering at her silence. “Ben I need to be fucked.”

“What now?” He’d replied, “well bend over.”

Martha had giggled, the idea of just bending over and Ben taking her from behind like an animal was attractive, she was already wet enough with the excitement of the walk and her thoughts, so entry would not be a problem. Perhaps she should bend over and let him do it—just a bit.

“No, I meant we will need to fuck. I want your cock in me sooo much but we need a condom—condoms.” Martha corrected herself. She wanted to be fucked lots of times. “Can you get some?”

“I’ll try,” he said.

“Cool,” she said and squeezed his lengthening cock. They were nearing the beach now and stopped as they came to it. In the half-light it appeared deserted. All at once Martha bent herself forward, hands just touching the ground and, waggled her hips a little, she turned to look at Ben a few paces behind and slowly licked her lips very suggestively, “Come and get me!”

Ben needed no encouragement; he dropped the towel he was carrying and nipped in behind, lightly holding her hips, lining himself up for entry. Just as his cock touched her sex Martha was off and running. Ben had not spotted she was sort of in the starting position for a race; she was off sprinting down the beach towards the sea. She had a good head start, she glanced behind, Ben had had first to pick his towel up and was now running after her his cock hard. She smiled to herself; she’d always been a fast sprinter at school though she’d never run naked before. She giggled imagining her school friends and herself running the 400 metres naked. Kate would be sooo funny with her enormous boobs bouncing everywhere and wouldn’t the boys just have cheered them on! Or, if it was the boys’ race, she could imagine all those cocks swinging as they ran, all those ball sacks flopping around. Unless they were hard like Ben. Imagine that! All those hard cocks pounding down the track, kept hard by the prospect of fucking the girls at the end of the race. Kate for the winner! Just imagine the boys hurtling through the finishing line to fall on the girls, soft thighs spreading, and bottoms rising.

She was near the sea now and glanced back again. No, Ben was not going to catch her. She threw aside her towel and splashed into the sea and began swimming. Did she like swimming naked or didn’t she! After a while she paused and waited for Ben to swim up to her.

“I should smack your bottom for that trick.”

“Please do, I’d like that!” she said, “but hadn’t I said no fucking without a condom, I was just getting ready to race you, that is all, you must have misunderstood!” She reached under the water and held his cock, making it grow in her hand. “I love touching your cock, Ben,” she said. It was hidden below the water but, even so, Martha closed her eyes and ducked her head under the water and, opening her mouth, began to suck and she sucked as long as she could hold her breath.

“Nice? Let’s swim some more.” They swam around for a few minutes and then Martha put her arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him on the mouth. “Play with me, make me come.”

His hands, yes both of them, were below the water, one stroking her bottom, the other her slit. Martha held on around his neck kissing him as fingers played; at first one hand was squeezing her labia together tightly closing her to entry whilst fingers of the other hand pretended to try and force entry, then her labia was released and the first hand began to creep in whilst the other hand retreated and a solitary finger began stroking her bottom hole (how very rude—but it got ruder) and pushed inside.

“Ben!” she said,” wrong hole.”

“Sorry,” he said – but didn’t remove it.

And she felt a finger of the other hand slip into her vagina.

“Better?”

Martha kissed Ben harder, the feelings were sooo good. She did a quick survey of the beach, no one about but it was getting lighter. Ben’s fingers were really working magic. She reached down and held his cock. It really wouldn’t matter if she had it inside her just a little bit, would it? “Ben, just hold my bottom a bit.”

Fingers were removed and in one fluid movement Martha had bounced her feet up from the sand, pulling on the arms wrapped around Ben’s neck and had wrapped her thighs around his hips. With a sigh she let herself down and felt the tip of Ben’s cock pushing its way a little into her. It was too much, she had to be filled and she pushed down hard impaling herself on Ben’s penis. It was delicious feeling, the sense of being opened as it slid up her, feeling the hardness within her and his rough curly hair stroking her clit. She began to bounce as her orgasm hit her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she thought as the ecstasy washed over her.

She slowed and stopped, hands still holding him around the neck. “Ben, sorry, I shouldn’t have. You haven’t come have you? I shouldn’t have, I, oh fuck I shouldn’t have.”

But Ben hadn’t come, though he would like to, soon please! Martha lifted herself up and off and, feet planted on the sand, her hand reached for his cock and began to wank it. “Like this?” she said. It was just breaking surface and after a few strokes Martha bent down and took it in her mouth, with the gentle waves lapping her face was sometimes submerged but she kept sucking until it began to spurt. After two spurts she stood up, still moving her hand and watched Ben’s cock fountaining into the sea, the semen floating away.

It was light now, the sun shining all along the beach and in the distance figures, perhaps fishermen, starting to appear. Swimming back to the shore they donned their swimsuits. Ben elected to go for a walk along the beach as Martha wandered back to her villa dressed in her black swimsuit. She stood for a moment at the edge of the beach looking back at the scene of her first fuck. She would remember this, the perfect beach, the half-light and her lovely climax bouncing in the sea on Ben’s cock. She hoped he would be able to get some condoms; they mustn’t do that again without protection. She had been silly. It would be sooo good to fuck properly though other things were nice and she did like seeing Ben’s cock ejaculate. She wouldn’t see that in a condom, a condom deep inside her. Her thighs rubbed together, she knew what a cock felt like inside now—and it felt wicked!

Postscript

It had been a great holiday and she did hope Ben would write. Pity she had so rarely been with him on the beach during the day. He’d said his parents wouldn’t have liked it—which didn’t make much sense—or they were all, the whole family, away exploring the rest of the island, going to a restaurant, and coming back late. Certainly there were whole days when she hadn’t seen him at all – except in the half-light. It hadn’t been the usual sort of summer holiday romance. That last stroll down the beach together had been good, though, and that last secret fuck in the woodland behind the beach had been great—so lucky Ben had been able to get those condoms earlier in the holiday.

She’d been puzzled on the plane when her mother had asked who that old man was she’d been talking to.

“Old man?” she’d queried.

Her mother had said the one she had been walking down the beach with and talking to that very morning.

“Oh, yeah, that’s Ben but he’s hardly old,” she’d said and her mother had looked at her strangely.

“Well, it was only a back view, I suppose.”

Martha laughed to herself,—old indeed! Ben was the same age as her, a wicked looking boy, nothing old looking about him, full head of hair, nice even white teeth, smooth hard tummy, pert little bottom and a cock that certainly had a youthful vitality! She’d miss him and that cock. It had been sooo good. She hoped he’d write. He’d said he would. She would.

Ben pottered about his villa garden in the early half-light of the next day, naked, as was his wont. He looked wistfully at the adjoining villa. He’d miss sweet Martha and her young body. He wondered who would be the next occupants. Ben had misled Martha a little bit in saying he was on holiday too; well he hadn’t quite said that. What he’d said was he had already been there a week, which was not actually untrue—he had certainly been there that week and many, many weeks before.

Who would be staying at the next-door villa next? Sometimes he was lucky: sometimes he was not. It was not his only option, but it was very convenient. It was not often parents brought older offspring in their late teens with them, like Martha, though sometimes young couples came, sometimes in pairs. They could be fun. It was not difficult, he had found, from long practice, gently to hypnotise them into releasing their libido in a rather abandoned way; engage in energetic cross couple sex that they had (probably) not at all intended to do; forget they had met him and then, rather surprisingly, in retrospect looking back at their holiday, be happy for the young man from next door to join them in their intimate activities. He smiled to himself as his cock rose in the strengthening sunshine. He had spent many happy hours in that next-door pool with young couples before joining in the fucking both in and out of the pool. Ben still wrote to some of them, he always wrote back (from his PO Box in England) but rarely did he see them again. It was risky meeting his hypnotised subjects outside of the island, away from the villa. Other people would notice he was not what the couple or girl thought he was; he was not their age, had not been for many a year, indeed he was getting on in years, more so as each year passed (not surprisingly). Ben was sure Martha would write to her imagined holiday boyfriend. Of course he would write back. He lay down on his sun lounger and idly played with his cock—perhaps he should let it rest for the day. It had been busy.

There was a noise from next door and, quietly, he peeked over the garden wall. Oh joy! It was four young women all dressed in bikinis who must have arrived the night before. Why did they bother with bikinis, they were just girls together? Were they on holiday as friends or rather more than that—were they gay? Ben had no problem with that. He had no problem either way. Four straight girls fighting over the ‘hunk’ from next door and all winning in the end (everyone gets a prize!): Four lesbians, well, he liked his role as the living dildo, having his cock pushed by one girl into another. It amused him the way they took to having a man involved in their sexual play, something they would not have dreamt of doing normally. Four girls, one way or another, playing with his cock all at once, it was good—he could vouch for that!

Ben would have liked another week of Martha, but these new girls would certainly do. Martha’s naive innocence coupled with her strong sexuality had been invigorating. What a lovely girl—he wished her well in the future. Perhaps she’d be back next year. It would be interesting to hear what she had done in the year, what boyfriends she had had, what she had done with them. He lay back on his sun lounger and waited for the girls to look over the wall. Would they say anything, be shocked at his nakedness? It really didn’t matter; he would catch up with them somewhere, on the beach, in the shops and work his hypnotism. He’d be swimming with them by nightfall and probably sleeping with them by the day after that. Ben smiled happily to himself. He was certainly glad he’d retired to the island with the never-ending variety of experience it brought right to his door.