The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The soothing of Penelope

By Maximilian Cummings

Part 3

Relief without clothes

“Perhaps if you went without clothes for a few days. Could you do that? Leave them off for a couple of days. It’s the weekend coming up.” Steve was talking to Penelope about her problem. It was the end of another day and there were few other people still in the office.

“No. I share a flat and my flatmates are not all girls.”

“Your parent’s place?”

“Not really. My brothers and Uncle Bob’ll be staying.”

“Look, you could come and stay with me.”

“NO! I mean, I couldn’t possibly impose, you hardly want me wandering around stuck indoors for a whole weekend getting in the way.” It was sort of kind and generous of Steve but she could not help feeling there was an ulterior motive. A naked girl wandering around his house, unable to dress. It was a bit of a young man’s—a young wanker’s—fantasy. Yet, yet..,

“Do you really think it would help?”

“I’m not a doctor—and you really should have gone to see a doctor.”

Penelope knew Steve was right. She had been stupid.

“But would you mind?”

“Of course not, anything to help a colleague and friend.”

Penelope had not at all thought herself a friend of Steve Knowles, or vice versa, but she was not going to say so. The thought that a weekend without clothing might help was uppermost in her mind. Of course she could see he might well have that ulterior motive, an obvious one, having a naked young woman around the whole weekend to ogle. It all seemed so wrong. She did not like Steve Knowles, yet she was finding herself more and more doing the strangest things with him. If only she had gone to see the doctor. She could not understand at all why she kept putting that off. Penelope really did not want to go and stay at Steve’s, still less be naked the whole time with him. But she could not help thinking it might help.

“I’ll hardly need to pack a suitcase.”

“No, just a toothbrush in your handbag. That’s about all you’ll need.

And that was all she did need. It was not actually all she packed, so when she turned up at Steve’s flat after work on the Friday with a suitcase he had looked at it askance.

“You really don’t need that.”

His flat did not look awfully big to be cooped up in for a whole weekend. She had not thought of it before but it suddenly came to her, a rather important question, and she came straight out with it suddenly so suspicious, “How many bedrooms has your flat got?”

“Just the one but we’re not staying here. My parents are away abroad so I thought we’d go to theirs. It’s a bit of a drive but their house has got plenty of bedrooms. Now leave that suitcase here Penelope and take those clothes off. You might as well start your therapy now.”

“B...but I can’t go in a car naked. I mean...”

“Of course you can. I’ve this silk wrap you can put around yourself. Silk is so light and just non allergic.”

Penelope had misgivings. The light silk seemed to give the idea of a harem with girls in wispy pieces of silk giving glimpses of naked flesh for the delectation of the sultan and perhaps his guests. But the wrap was certainly light on her skin. Steve had not looked away as she undressed.

Clad in just the silk and without shoes, clutching her handbag containing her toothbrush, Penelope stepped out of Steve’s flat and down the stairs. They met no one and within seconds she was at the car with Steve holding the car door open for her and she was inside before anyone even passed in the street.

It was indeed, a bit of a long journey, not helped by Friday night traffic jams. All the way she was conscious she was just wearing the lightest of silks and had absolutely nothing beneath. Steve’s parents house was in a leafy suburban road and, when the car finally stopped, there was no need to walk along the street to get to and from the car. Their car drew into a short, gravelled driveway. There was no other car there and the house was dark.

“Shall I leave the silk here?” It really was not like her, but she found herself leaving the decisions to Steve, almost as if she was handing control to him. Perhaps unsurprising really, the whole idea had, after all, been his not hers. It was his parents’ house and she found herself rather letting him tell her what to do.

“I would. You won’t be needing it until Sunday night.”

Peculiar, more than even the walk to the car in the wrap, was getting out of the car and walking up the front steps to the strange front door with nothing at all on, not even shoes. She could certainly feel the gravel beneath her feet.

Penelope had had the awful idea that Steve might take his clothes off too, on the pretence, as she thought it would be, of a fellow feeling, pretending to be showing solidarity with her. She did not think it would be solidarity, nothing of the sort, rather the getting of a sexual pleasure, a kick, out of being naked with her. She anticipated seeing his erection again more than once—that would be the ‘solidarity.’ It might be best to deal with that swiftly—a quick handjob to dampen his libido and remove his capability only, only, what if the lotion ran out? That idea worried her, worried her more than Steve being naked or even touching her—with his thing. She could not help feeling it would be best to save his ejaculate for an emergency, leave it stored, warm and ready in his balls, in case she needed it and just put up with seeing and perhaps feeling Steve’s erection.

But Steve did not take his clothes off: he made her supper instead. She sat in his parent’s kitchen, on a wooden chair which he insisted on wiping down thoroughly and drying first to remove any irritants, with a glass of cool white wine in her hand. Afterwards they watched television but, again, he did not even sit next to her on the settee though he did spread a large white bath towel for her to sit on, a towel he told her he had both washed in just soap flakes and then given an extra rinse with just water before drying it in the open air. He did not suggest they showered together or even shared the bathroom.

He stood in the doorway of her bedroom watching her getting into bed between white sheets (again just washed in soap flakes, extra rinsed and dried in the open air) but he had not been naked or even in his pyjamas with penis poking out of the fly. Steve had not suggested sleeping in the same bed ‘to make sure she was all right.’ He had merely wished her a good night, said his room was directly opposite hers if she should need anything—and had said that without the slightest suggestion of a leer—and closed the door on her and left her without doing anything wrong at all: quite the opposite really. There had not been a reappearance or even the slightest hint of her rash and itching all evening. Perhaps the nudity idea was not stupid.

Penelope awoke about midnight. She had gone to sleep so easily and so comfortably but now the itching she thought gone had returned and was building. She lay in the pitch darkness, scratching and wishing it would just calm down and go away. It did not, instead it slowly built. Penelope had to throw the bed covers and sheet off, get them away from her skin but that did not improve matters much.

Eventually she had to get up and padded across the floor feeling for the doorknob. Across the landing she found Steve’s door easily and opened it.

“Steve, sorry to disturb, have you that lotion?”

Really she should have asked for it before bed but things had gone so well, there had not been the slightest tinge all evening. He had not offered and she had not liked to ask.

“Err, what, oh, it’s... it’s in the car, I’ll go and get it.”

She felt his body brush past hers. Steve was not wearing pyjamas. She was surprisingly relieved—relieved that scratchy, itchy cotton had not just touched her so sensitive skin. Penelope moved and stood in the pitch black of the landing waiting, waiting what seemed an interminable time for Steve’s return. The reality was that he was very quick. Naturally he knew his parents’ house like the back of his hand and could negotiate it as easily in the dark as the day and had no need to blind himself with the sudden harsh glare of electric light.

Such a relief hearing him coming up the stairs. Of course knowing your way around a house in the dark is one thing: allowing for unexpected obstacles another. Steve had not known she was standing there. He walked right into her—full naked body contact! Not good for Penelope, on several counts!

“Ooof!”

“Whoah, sorry Penny.”

“Steve, please.”

“Where?”

“Oh, Steve, most everywhere but particularly, why, why, why this awful sensation, right on my breasts and... you know.”

He could simply have handed her the lotion and gone back to bed. Instead he did the application.

The relief. The relief! The splash of cold lotion to her breasts in the dark and then Steve’s hand rubbing, spreading the lotion across her skin, really rubbing it in, a squeezing manipulation of first one breast and then the other. All of a sudden she realised Steve was using both hands. Where had he put the bottle—probably clamped between his thighs right under his no doubt now erect organ. It would be very unlikely Steve would not be like that given he was manipulating a young woman’s breasts in the dark and covering them in slippery, slidey lotion. What man would not erect at that... unless... unless he had had a wank before sleep.

An erection meant it would be easy to obtain that other soothing lotion—semen. Penelope was tempted to reach and grab, tug and work and feel the lovely relief of warm splatters of semen on her stomach. The more so when, as Steve moved, she felt just the brush of the smooth knob end of an erection across her tummy.

“Steve, my pussy too, please!” She said it to prevent herself grabbing his cock.

His hands moved and, as she spread her feet wide, she felt, because she could see nothing in the dark, the touch of cooling lotion and spreading fingers between her thighs.

“More, Steve, more lotion. It’s not working. All over me.”

But as he applied yet more, really coating her body she felt the change, the change from pain to sexual desire and arousal. It was the point she should really have told him to stop; got Steve to leave her all covered in lotion and taken himself and his erection back to his own bedroom; left her to furious, intense, private masturbation in her bed, but the feel of his fingers was too much, too delicious, too pleasurable; she should not have thought the thoughts but could not help thinking of what that erection could do to her, perhaps just stroking her nipples with its end, stroking her clitoris or slamming into her vagina. Her mouth opened in the dark at the thought of simply sucking it. Sucking a lovely, thick, warm, hard cock.

Steve worked her, worked her breasts and sex bringing her to orgasm—several times. Standing orgasms one after another. She was putty in his hands, so wet with lotion, perspiration and sexual lubrication, a girl totally absorbed in sexual feeling. Her legs almost gave way at the first orgasm, standing there in total darkness in a strange house on its landing as her naked colleague’s fingers roamed—everywhere.

“I...I’ve got to lie down, Steve. But don’t, don’t stop.”

He could have done anything to her, put his penis wherever he wanted and done whatever he wanted. He could have taken her request to lie down as an invitation to more than lie with her but to lie upon her. He could so easily have taken her, he could have opened the front door and let his friends in to take her and she could have done nothing but accept and enjoy yet more sexual feeling.

Yet Steve did nothing more than slide his penis against her: and even that could have been accidental. They were on the bed together as close as could be and given how men’s penises stuck out and how big they were touching was inevitable. He did not, though, get up on her and insert himself, easy as it would have been to do with her thighs so spread and all that slippery lotion and sexual lubrication in and around her quim.

Penelope was sure Steve was getting quite a thrill from being there naked on the bed with her and being free to fondle and lubricate but equally he was being so good about looking after her. It was so unexpected, she had not thought him the caring sort. Perhaps she had his character all wrong.

No doubt Steve was indeed getting a thrill, but was that so wrong given how much he was doing for her? It seemed sort of wrong, rather unfair on him, not to have more. Should she suck him off? He would like that—men did. It would be a fair exchange for how he had soothed her body and then made her feel so good. The thought of his cock in her mouth was exciting. Again she opened her mouth in the dark making the movements with her lips and tongue as if she was really fellating a penis, safe in the knowledge he could not see her in the dark. She did not do that but, instead, reached out and touched Steve, seeking his penis. It was, of course, in the usual place—on a man—and she grabbed and wanked it. It was a mixture of wanting to pleasure and thank Steve coupled with a need to stop her sucking or fucking it. Those ideas were so tempting in her state.

Penelope could feel another orgasm building. He was finger fucking her doing, no doubt, what he really wanted to be doing with his penis. Penelope was out of control, her head was going from side to side as her orgasm came and as her hand worked the cock at speed. It too proved out of control. There was no aiming by Penelope, no thought about when and where it might ‘go off’—come. Her hand was not directing it, not sending it carefully onto Steve’s tummy or her breasts but rather her hand was pulling it this way and that so the semen, when it came spurting, went flying everywhere. She could feel but not see it. She did not, could not, see it start but just felt the effects. The penis in her hand sending spurts of of semen up into the air, to fall down in the pitch blackness here there and everywhere all over their bodies. Warm droplets of semen raining down upon them. Only in the morning did Penelope worry some might have flown to her sex and been pushed inside by Steve’s thrusting fingers.

Penelope awoke to find Steve standing by her bed with a cup of tea. He was not naked, not presenting his penis, not making it loom soft or erect over her, seeking an early morning hand job or a suck; he was not even in his pyjamas but fully dressed. The contrast with her was marked: her sheet was thrown back and her pink, naked body was completely on show. The way she was lying with thighs apart would have meant Steve would have seen everything when he had come in the door. Perhaps he had stood for a time and stared at her and her hairy quim, no doubt still messy with lotion. But not cum: Steve had been good she recalled, had not done what few men could have resisted and pushed his penis into her and inseminated. A relief! She would not have stopped him she knew. She had been a woman in heat, in oestrus perhaps.

Not cum within her but, undoubtedly, there on her stomach, breasts and even thighs the dried evidence of his release—her own doing It had seemed only right—at the time.

“Oh tea! Thank you, Steve, you are being so kind.”

Penelope did not, of course, expect to leave the house that day and the most she expected to do was walk naked in the confines of the back garden. It was a fine day, though, and Steve suggested a walk knowing a wood with infrequently used paths where she could safely walk naked but for sandals.

“Can’t really go for a pub lunch though in just your silk wrap.”

Possibly, just possibly with it well tied she could, but Penelope did not feel at all keen about the idea. Whilst she went along with the suggestion of the walk she did not, in fact, wear the silk at all. She had, of course, expected to wear it in the car as they had done on the drive up but when she walked out of the front door with Steve, terribly conscious of her nudity, she found it was not where she had left it on the front seat.

“I put it in my haversack along with our picnic in case... in case we meet someone.”

“B...b...but what if someone looks into our car/”

“Just crouch down a little, nobody looks in that sort of detail. There are no traffic lights, we shall be on the move the whole time.”

Another new experience, sitting in the passenger seat of a car stark naked but for a pair of sandals as she was driven for miles and miles along country roads. Eventually they stopped beside the road and Steve got out.

“Here we are.”

Another new experience, setting off for a ramble not only without a haversack but without clothes or even a handbag. Steve in open neck shirt, shorts, walking shoes and socks plus the haversack: she in nothing, absolutely nothing. except sandals on her feet.

“I don’t think there’ll be many, if any, stinging nettles but my legs are as bare as yours so you will not be alone.”

“It won’t be just my legs will it, Steve? Somewhere more delicate perhaps! If your todger was out in the open how would you like that getting stung?”

Steve was looking at her, directly looking at her pubic hair—so on display. “I’d have thought you’d have to walk into a patch to get stung there! But, yeah, I suppose I’d be a bit more vulnerable. Would you prefer if I walked naked too?”

Penelope laughed. “Only if we come to the stinging nettles.” For the time being there were none.

The whole experience of having to go away with Steve Knowles of all people and the problems of her condition did not mean she could not appreciate the prettiness of the path by a wood, the morning scents and the bright warm sunlight.

The allusion to her genitalia brought it so home to Penelope the strange, sort of sexual predicament she was in. Steve had not been forward the night before when she had so needed that cream, had not tried deliberately to rub his, actually quite big, penis against her. She had not felt him squeeze it between her breasts, as she could very much imagine he would like to do and slide in all that slippery lotion, he had not asked her to blow him or try, slyly, to slip himself inside her vagina or, not so slyly, even her bottom. It was she who had wanked him off, she who had initiated the hand job. It had been meant as a thank you and not because she needed the soothing properties of his semen. He had, after all, provided plenty of that special lotion.

Walking behind Steve in his shorts, she bit her lip. The thought of semen had sent a little shiver through her. She realised in a subconscious, animalistic way, that her mind had registered how soothing, how relieving Steve’s semen had been on her breasts and now associated its production not as the likely outcome of sexual relations with a man but with its skin soothing properties as well. The mere idea of smoothing splashes of warm semen across her body gave her a strangely comfortable feeling. It was strange how the mind and subconscious worked. How the mind could be trained.

Steve had been right about the lack of other walkers. They walked alone through a lovely wood with the sun slanting down through the trees giving a dappled light to the ground. In the wood they walked side by side but a few footpaths were narrow enough for them to need to walk one in front of the other. When she was in front Penelope wondered how much Steve enjoyed watching her naked bottom.

They sat at the edge of a wood looking down into a bit of a valley to eat their picnic lunch. Penelope was careful where she sat. It was not just stinging nettles that could hurt—there were thistles as well. Not at all what you wanted on the soft skin of your bottom let alone the delicate skin of your anus!

Steve had explained it was mostly a circular walk with hardly any need to retrace their steps. The emptiness of the countryside in the morning seemed to change in the afternoon. First there was a man sitting by the path whom they came across quite unexpectedly not seeing him until they were right up to him. His grin as he looked at them was not unsurprising. Penelope squeaked and tried to hide herself with hands to pubes and breasts but he had seen plenty enough before that. She was a bit surprised to find Steve knew the man, indeed had played with him in a local rugby team in the past. Penelope felt uncomfortable as Steve exchanged a few words with him. She had wanted to hurry on and was so conscious, when they walked on, of the man’s eyes staring at her bottom.

She did not know for sure that he was looking at her bottom but there was more than a feeling of eyes drilling into her as she walked. He might even have extracted his penis and be wanking at the sight imagining what was between her thighs—imagining pushing his penis between them and releasing his stuff. He was a man, after all. Again a strangely comfortable feeling came to her at the idea—the idea of warm, soothing semen flowing. She was rather surprised at herself at what she was thinking, the idea of men carrying around supplies of soothing lotion. Her smile broadened as she realised she was thinking of their penises as lotion applicators! To be fair to the man beside the path he had looked a nice enough bloke. She would not have minded handling his applicator and making it work!

What had been strange had been the man had not said anything about Penelope. Had not asked why she was naked. He had certainly spoken to her and acknowledged her presence but been seemingly unsurprised by her nudity. It could hardly be coming across men with naked women was a normal experience in the locality.

Coming across one man seemed to lead to another and another. A pair of joggers coming down the path in singlets and shorts, and again Steve seemed to know them—another two rugger players in fact. After the men were gone Steve was apologetic. He had been sure they would be undisturbed and it was not far now to the car.

To be fair to Steve, the woods and fields had been empty all morning but coming across yet another man suggested to Penelope she should perhaps get her silk from Steve’s haversack. It was only partly on when a further man appeared. His eyes did not miss her exposed breasts before she covered them. And again, like all the other men, he did not say a word about her nakedness.

It was a relief reaching the car without more men passing them. Penelope sat in the passenger seat with her silk around her. It mattered not, really, that all those men had seen her naked. It was not as if she would be seeing them again.

An afternoon in the house with the occasional foray into the garden. Afternoon tea on the lawn was really nice. Steve had been ever so kind in buying scones and even clotted cream to have with jam. A proper English afternoon tea—or certainly a proper Cornish or Devon afternoon tea, albeit in Hampshire! Perhaps it would have been better if Steve had been in a striped blazer and cricket trousers and she in a white dress but, as it was, she had nothing on at all!

Her problem did not flare up during the evening. Surprising really as that was when it tended to come along during the week at the office. It was only when readying herself for bed, freshly showered and combing her hair did she feel a twinge and looked up realising her problem was coming on.

“Steve, Steve,” she called, “it’s happening again.”

He rushed into her room fresh from the shower, towel in hand. Unlike the whole day they were now naked together.

“Where?” Steve asked reaching for the lotion.

“My breasts.” Already they were itching like mad, causing her nipples to harden. She did wonder, despite the worry and increasing discomfort, why she had called Steve: she could just as easily have applied the lotion herself as, effectively, ask him. Just calling him had meant he was bound to do the applying as he had done before. She was sure he enjoyed it. What man would not? The chance to apply slippery, liquid lotion all over a young female body—and she knew it would be all over. He would not miss a bit, she knew his fingers would even be in her vagina and anus. She could see physical proof of his enjoyment. Naked as her he could not hide the stirring of his penis and the pumping up of his erection. Six, six and a half perhaps seven inches of firm male flesh just rising up at his front. As a woman she had nothing like that. A quite remarkable thing really when you thought about it and, again, that comfortable feeling coming over her about it being a provider of soothing semen.

What had she got herself into? Being naked with a man who was not her boyfriend and watch his penis pump up as it filled with blood whilst he rubbed a lotion over her.

Steve was really squeezing out the lotion and applying it, massaging her breasts in his hands, moulding them like clay. It was soothing but the feeling was travelling down her body. It was going to be in her sex soon, itching, then burning and then… She knew her arousal would come and, this time, it was not like the night before when it was all dark or in the office when Steve had been clothed: now she could see his male sexual organ so clearly. How was she to prevent herself doing sexual things with it in her so powerful arousal or, indeed, prevent poor Steve becoming overcome with lust and pushing his penis into her and doing what came so naturally?

“Please, Steve, more, it’s spreading.”

The feeling was certainly moving out from her breasts and so did his fingers. Again and again he squeezed the bottle and dollops of lotion fell upon her. Before long her body was smeared in cream. She could see how covered his hands were in the stuff and, rather inevitably he was getting it on his body too—not least the poking out part! There was lotion on the end of his penis making it look like it had recently ejaculated even if its ongoing hardness rather gave the lie to that.

As she knew it would, the itching and burning turned to intense sexual arousal, her body responding naturally to the stimuli. She was sopping down below and that, together with the lotion, made it so easy for Steve’s fingers to penetrate her vagina and bottom. And of course, aroused as she was, female as she was, she really wanted Steve’s penis inside her. The idea of that big thing pushing into her, pushing slowly but purposefully into her vagina excited her beyond measure. She wanted it, she really did.

“Steve, please, please fuck me.”

He looked at her in a surprised way. “What really?”

“Yes, really.” His fingers were actually in her vagina but she almost fell backwards onto the bed so they were pulled from her. A controlled fall. She opened her legs wide and showing very clearly where she meant. An obscene pose really and there Steve was almost looming over her, now standing between her thighs with his cock at full stand. What a penis, what a cock! She could not wait to feel it inside her.

“B..but you are not on the Pill, are you Penny? You told me that ,and I don’t have any condoms. Not one. I didn’t think you’d want ...”

“I don’t fucking care.” And she did not—she really did not.

Steve moved forward and she felt it. Not fingers this time but the substantial girth of an aroused man—she felt Steve’s knob pushing into her. A proper penetration! The insertion of the rounded helmet with the little slit—that so dangerous little slit and what came out... The knob, the organ, felt wonderful and Penelope sighed as she closed her eyes anticipating the thrust of the organ right up into her body.

But it did not come. Penelope felt instead a withdrawal, a sudden emptiness. She opened her eyes to see Steve standing right above her, close between her thighs and wanking furiously.

“No!”

But it was too late. From the little slit she had been moments before imagining pushing up inside her body issued a spurt of white stuff and then another, and another. Steve was ejaculating onto her body. The stuff flew, even reaching her chin as it fell, splat, splat, splat onto her as it had done before.

“No, Steve, why?” But she knew the answer. Steve Knowles, for all his faults in her eyes, was a more than decent bloke, looking after her in her difficulties and now protecting herself from herself. She had been prepared to risk pregnancy in her mad arousal: he had had more presence of mind despite his undoubted strong sexual excitement. He put himself beyond being capable.

Such a kind man—and it did not stop there. He did not let her hang at a sexual peak but ensured her orgasm—or orgasms. Despite himself, no doubt, losing interest in sex having come, he went down on her and would not let her go until she had come thrice with his tongue lapping at her clitoris or sinking into her. It was lucky the lotion was not unpalatable.

Still covered in lotion, and semen, he tucked her up in bed, even kissing her on the forehead.

“There you are, Penny, you all right now?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes, thank you. Steve, and... thank you for not coming in me. You are so good.”

He was still completely naked and next to the bed, right there was his penis, hanging together with his twin balls from their nest of hair. Flaccid and at rest it all looked rather sweet. Penelope raised her head and kissed it on its end. It was still a little wet with semen and she felt that on her lips.

“Thank you Steve for not coming inside me.”

Steve smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I was very tempted. You are a naughty girl, Penny, very sexy. Perhaps I should spank you.”

It was so not the sort of talk for the office.

“Perhaps you should!”

“I’d better be fully dressed first. I have a bit of a thing about spanking.”

Penelope smiled. It was a bit of a confidence about Steve’s sexual fantasies and likes.

“Spanking schoolgirls in short skirts, pulling their knickers down?”

“Naughty, Penny, naughty! I say nothing more. Now sleep well.” He spoke as he moved across the room and turned the light out and closed the door. For a moment or two there was a white line of light under the door and then Steve must have turned the landing light out and Penelope was left in darkness. Her sleep was unbroken.

Penelope had wondered, as she had drifted off to sleep, whether she should thank Steve for being so kind by sucking him off in the morning. Perhaps she should come into his bedroom and just do that.

But he was up before her, shaved, showered and dressed before she even awoke. The first she knew of the morning was him knocking on her door and bringing in her tea. It was another warm and sunny day and they breakfasted in the garden, Steve in open neck shirt and jeans, she in nothing at all. He was rather amused at the indented pattern left in her bottom cheeks when she stood up from the wrought iron garden chairs.

She had not been keen to go for another walk. She had not terribly liked seeing all those men or rather being seen by them and did not want to meet them or other men and perhaps women whilst naked. Instead she read her book and the Sunday papers.

In the afternoon Steve suggested a swim.

“But you haven’t a swimming pool.”

“No, but one of the neighbours has.”

“I haven’t a costume.”

“You don’t need one. They are not essential, are they?”

“Well no, not that I have ever swum....”

She wondered whether the neighbours were nudists or whether Steve was perhaps going to treat an elderly neighbour or two to the sight of her around his pool in the all together.

“I’ve telephoned and the Johnsons are out for the afternoon and are happy for me to borrow their pool.”

“Didn’t they think it odd you wanted them out of the way.”

“No, they said they were going out, but we could borrow.”

It might have been true or had Steve hinted he would like to be their alone with a ‘girlfriend?’

It was only a few doors up. Not far enough to need the car but still enough distance for Penelope to feel strange just walking along in such a light silk wrap and sandals. A click to the side gate of a detached house and there they were in a pretty back garden with a light blue tiled swimming pool at its bottom. The sun shone down and it was all rather lovely.

“How’s this?”

“Very nice,” said Penelope sitting down on a lounger on the flags by the pool, “yes, really nice.” She looked back at the house, “and everyone is out?”

“Yes, their car is not in the drive. They are out for the whole afternoon.”

Penelope knew she had to accept Steve’s word but there could easily have been the presumed elderly Mr Johnson standing naked at a window, waiting with binoculars for her to removed her wrap. She could not see and what she could not see hardly mattered. If the presumed Mr Johnson wished to ogle and wank it really did not do her any harm.

“Steve,” she said as she put her wrap aside and undid her sandals, “what are you doing?”

He had removed his shirt and was now, with towel around his waist, clearly in the process of dressing himself in swimming trunks.

“I’m putting my swimming...”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not wearing anything am I? Why are you bothering?”

It was rather nice actually, lounging and reading and going swimming whilst being naked, strangely pleasing to have her companion in a similar state. Steve had seemed a little worried about the chlorine in the water upsetting her skin but she had dipped a leg in up to the knee and waited half an hour to see if there was any reaction—there was not—and had been careful to use the outdoor shower each time she swam to ensure there was no chlorine residue left on her skin.

She had wondered if the whole scene would result at some point in Steve presenting his penis for manual or oral relief. She knew he found her body exciting and, after the night before when she had asked to be fucked, it would not have been surprising or unreasonable if he had asked for something along those more restricted lines. Penelope knew she would comply. He owed her a spanking after all, or was it that she owed him one—a spanking on her bottom, of course, not his!

He did not actually ask her but he did erect a few times. Penelope had not thought she was doing anything particularly sexy and certainly had not intended to stimulate her colleague. It was interesting to watch it happen. As far as she could recall, she had rarely seen her boyfriends just do that. Usually they had erected hidden under the bedclothes or certainly up close to her—though it might have been in the bath. Just seeing Steve erecting was rather different. Once it happened when she was talking to him as they lay on the loungers but another time he was quite the other side of the pool. It just pumped up in the air.

Penelope did not know what Steve was thinking and he did not particularly seem to be staring at her at that point. It seemed a little rude to ask. It might be something rather personal—a girl he fancied or some recollection which really he would not want to reveal, perhaps something embarrassingly kinky. Or it might simply have been the thought of her sometime needing lotion again. Her terrible irritation did not seem to come on during the day but if her need was to occur there and then she realised they had not brought the lotion and, if her sensitivity came on suddenly, she would find it almost impossible to put that silk on and hurry down the road to where it was. Perhaps that was his thought and his thought was his penis would be the only provider of a soothing cream and wouldn’t she just wank it with desperate enthusiasm—she knew she would.

There was, though, not a hint of an itch and she felt she was not going to need Steve’s semen that afternoon. She watched him coming towards her from across the poolside naked and erect. Did a man look funny with that rather substantial prong sticking up at his front or, actually, rather the opposite, handsome and sexual? It was a bit difficult to make up her mind. Certainly the female appearance was very neat—well boobs could be a bit untidy if large and she was sure they were comic if exertion made them bounce around too much. A big breasted girl running would be comic... at least she thought so: Steve and men generally might see it as erotic!

Perhaps it depended a little on the penis itself. Steve’s certainly stood up, not quite at the perpendicular and did have a gentle inward bend to it. It had quite a helmet shape to its knob. In her limited experience of penises it seemed pretty fine and, yes, the male erect was to her pretty decorative! Of course she did not have that much experience of naked men or erect penises and certainly not out in the open like she was seeing Steve’s—in the wild! She had only seen them individually and with many months between one and the next—she had never been exactly promiscuous or one for ‘one night stands.’

“Happy thoughts, Steve?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mind me. I was just thinking how fine men look when erect and can I compliment you on yours.”

She was lying down, he was up quite closer to her. It loomed over her and there, hanging below, were his twin reservoirs of soothing semen (well properly only the reservoir of some of the constituent elements of semen but that was unnecessary biological detail. Much nicer to imagine them full of warm, salty, soothing cream almost as if, were you to squeeze them, out it would spurt from the penis!).

“It’s quite big, from my, err, limited experience of them, a nice shape and stands well. Yeah, and, you know Steve, I find it strangely reassuring to have it here and know you can produce...” She paused, realising how strange her comment really was, yet that Tracy Kiss had said almost the same thing, “um, soothing semen if I was to have one of my, you know, turns.”

“You do need to see the doctor, Penny,”

“I know, I know.”

Steve’s penis did not show any sign of drooping. He seemed very content to be standing over her with it.

“I suppose, really, Steve with you being so kind I should be kind to you and give you a handjob only I really don’t want to use up your, your, um, reserves!” She smiled, “If you know what I mean. Selfish I know.”

He looked somewhat disappointed.

“Not even a little fondle?”

“Well, I suppose...”

Penelope reached out. It felt strong in her hand, obviously not like an iron bar as it was warm and soft but inside the rigidity was so very noticeable. The softness of women and the hardness of men—it rather epitomised that difference between the sexes, not a fanciful one but very real and right there in her hand. Penelope pulled with her fingers riding the soft folds of his foreskin upwards and then rolled it back again exposing his helmet shaped head. Gentle, lazy strokes in the sunshine as he stood over her, looking down at her body—ogling really!

“What are you thinking about, Steve?”

“Come off it, Penny, it must be pretty obvious!”

She laughed and stood, still holding him, still pulling at his penis. “I think, Steve, we’d better have a swim to cool your enthusiasm. Come on.”

What if Steve’s parents’ friends had come home unexpectedly and seen Penelope leading a naked Steve by his erection towards their pool. They would have thought them lovers of course. But, despite appearances, they were not that at all!

Yet there she was wanking him at the edge of the pool, at the deep end. “Tell me if you get close Steve, I’m happy for you to enjoy this but not too much! Isn’t this sun lovely. There is something sexy about hot sun on your skin isn’t there?”

She took her hand away momentarily leaving Steve’s penis standing in the bright sunshine.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mmmm, yes, but so does your hand!”

Penelope fondled some more, even holding his balls in her other hand. She began sliding his foreskin again.

“I think, Penny, I’m nearly...”

The hands were snatched from him. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Nice feeling? All worked up and ready to...?”

“Very close.”

“A lovely big cock all fired up and ready to...” A couple of extra gentle caressing strokes, “but it’s not going to come!”

Her movement was sudden. One moment Steve was next to her by the pool edge, her fingers curled around his big, warm shaft with its knob shining in the sunshine, the next she had pushed him hard and he was overbalancing into the pool. The splash in a jumble of arms, legs and, yes, erect penis was a big one.

Penelope laughed and laughed. Steve, after his surprise, laughed as well and then swam quickly to the edge. Penelope had never been chased by an erect naked man before but she was that afternoon!

Around and around the pool before she jumped in to avoid being either pushed, spanked or perhaps even fucked—it was a bit of a risk. Of course jumping in did not completely avoid the risk, not when he jumped in after her and grabbed her. Momentarily she felt the full length of his erection all along her sex, sticking between her thighs.

“I’m not on the Pill,” she said. In a way it was a surprising first thought and statement, not ‘don’t’ or ‘I don’t want that’ but a much more practical point. It brought her up rather sharply realising were it not for the practicalities of contraception she would let Steve do that. Steve of all people, as a... thank you.”

“No,” said Steve, “and you want me to store my semen: not you!”

A funny way of looking at it—storing Steve’s semen in her vagina in case she needed it to sooth her skin! Keeping her thighs together to stop it leaking out.

They swam and talked, sex, penises and ejaculations put to the backs of minds. Sex, and indeed penises, would rear its or their heads later that day before bedtime.