Sexy Girl Fucked In Public



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Sex Story



*****

The sun was high and hot in the sky and Inga happily wriggled her toes in the sand. Her friends were out there broiling in the heat, walking up and down the beach looking for guys, but Inga sat in the shade of her umbrella and let the boys come to her. At least a dozen had paused to check her out as they walked past, their attention arrested by her blonde hair and fair skin and her tremendous double-Ds, which swelled against the thin fabric of her swimsuit and revealed a vertingous stripe of cleavage. A deeply tanned teenage boy even showed half a boner through his trunks as he watched her lean forward for the suntan oil. Poor baby, Inga thought to herself, and wondered if maybe he'd like to smooth the oil on her skin. No, he was too young, too excited. He'd lose his load in his pants if she so much as spoke to him.

Oh, she was feeling very full of herself today, wasn't she! She and four of her friends had come to the shore for a long girls-only weekend, five hungry femmes-fatale on the prowl. They'd stopped at a drug store before leaving and giggled as they bought a variety of condoms and lubes and oils, confident that by the time the weekend was over they find use for them.

And Inga was hungry, hungry for a man, a man she could play with and tease and torture until he begged for it. Men kept looking at her, and she looked back, and it was always the men who looked away first. They sensed that they were the prey, and none approached her. When the time came, she'd make the first move. And second, and the third, until the poor guy was writhing under her touch and willing to do whatever in the world she wanted.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was cool in the shade but her pussy was warm and she couldn't help crossing and re-crossing her legs. She thought about taking a dip in the ocean, but she was enjoying this sensation, of being just on the edge of acting out on her impulses. She could wander into the surf, swim up to some man, let her hands wander beneath the waves and feel his penis rise to her touch. She was going to have sex tonight, she knew she could fuck any man she wanted just by going up to him and touching him, speaking his name. He'd be able to smell the lust on her, and whoever he was, he wouldn't be able to resist.

A man came into her field of vision, and she kept her eyes on him. She'd seem him before, sitting in a group just a few yards away. Tall, broad-shouldered, his skin glistening from the surf. He ran his fingers through his slick brown hair and grinned. He had a cute smile, and as she watched him walk over to his friends he said something and they all laughed. So he had a sense of humor...she liked that. She liked that very much.

He toweled off and took a seat that faced her at an angle. He picked up a book, dug his toes into the sand, and started reading. Inga watched him, watched the calm expression on his face as he read, and she felt a sudden urge to learn what his face was like when he wasn't so calm. Like when he was ejaculating all over her breasts as she furiously masturbated him with oil-slick hands...

She wanted him. She wanted him and she would have him. She made up her mind on the spot. She would have him in her hands, in her mouth, in her pussy, and once she had him totally under her spell she would indulge herself and make him do anything and everything she wanted.

She stared at him from behind her sunglasses. His head was tilted down...but she had the strange feeling that he was staring back at her. She couldn't see his eyes, but as she watched she noticed that he wasn't turning the pages of his book. Was he staring at her? What a naughty boy. Very naughty. Looking at her like that. Maybe when she got him alone she'd strip him and move behind him and jack him off from the rear, denying him the sight of her luscious body as her fingers moved up and down his cock...and another of her fingers plunged in and out of his anus. That would teach him to behave...

She felt an overwhelming need to touch herself. Her nipples tightened beneath her suit. She had to do something, right now. But he wasn't alone--a half-dozen of his friends, both men and women, were lounging around next to him. And a shadow fell next to her and she looked up to find her friends had returned.

"Lots of action around here, Inga, lots of action," one of them crowed. "We're gonna walk up that way, wanna come see all the hotties?"

Inga didn't want to see a hottie--she wanted to fuck a hottie. She had to be touched, or touch herself, right now. "I think I'll just stay here and let the boys find me," she said. And then she added, "I think I need to visit the little girl's room too. Maybe I'll wander up that way and bump into you on the way back."

They said their goodbyes and walked away. Inga stood, adjusted the straining elastic of her bathing suit top, and reached in her bag for a cigarette. Normally she liked one AFTER sex, but maybe she'd have another one after she walked down the beach to the rest-rooms and diddled herself to orgasm. She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to come.

She lit her cigarette and looked at the man sitting and reading. She was convinced he was staring at her, even as he seemed engrossed in his book. She leaned over, giving him a great view of her breasts. No reaction. She tossed her lighter in her bag, turned slowly, and headed down the beach to the restrooms.

She blew a plume of smoke into the air and sighed. She wanted sex, and this would be a poor substitute. But without this release she was liable to attack some poor boy and leave him a quivering wreck smeared with his own semen. Maybe two boys. Maybe three. Mmm, three at the same time, yes, that might be enough to satisfy her, one in her pussy, one in her mouth, one in her ass, three hard cocks shivering and straining as she made each of them capitulate...

"Excuse me, are you headed for the rest rooms?" a man's voice asked.

Inga whirled so quickly she nearly fell down. The man who had been reading was standing next to her. He was a bit taller than her, and she liked that. She liked his strong legs, his full lips. She liked the way he was looking at her.

"I was, yes," she admitted.

He shook his head. "That's much too far. The house we rented is just of the beach. Come with me."

He took her by the hand and led her toward the wooden steps leading off the beach. He didn't ask her if she wanted to use the bathroom in his house. He didn't offer. He just took her hand and led her as if she was on a leash. And here she was, obediently following him. Her legs felt weak. Her pussy was on fire.

He didn't say anything as they walked, nor did she. She took a few nervous puffs on her cigarette and noticed that he watched her as she smoked, as if he liked watching her. She tossed the butt in a trash can and he gently helped her up the steps. Their house was indeed the first one right off the beach, a chalet-style place with a huge peaked roof and a wide deck extending from the second floor.

What was he going to do with her? Take her inside and fuck her? Oh, that would be glorious, exactly what she wanted. Just the thought of him plowing her while lying on cool white sheets nearly made her faint. Five minutes before she'd been thinking about how easy it would be to lure some silly man into her web. Now some man she didn't know was leading her by the hand into...what? She didn't care. She was under a spell and she was powerless to resist him.

There was a wooden stall at the rear of the house and the man led her there. "I'm sorry, before you go in you'll have to wash the sand off."

"That's fine," she rasped, her throat dry with anticipation. He unlatched the door and held it open. She walked inside...

And he walked in behind her. Closing and latching the door tight.

The stall was big enough for one person to shower comfortably. For two people, especially two tall people, it was a tight fit. She was facing away from him, toward the shower head, and he reached around her to turn on the spray. He pressed close against her as he twisted the lever and his chest pressed against her back. She leaned her head back and let the water cascade across her face.

He reached up and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. "You're covered in sand," he said, his voice impossibly calm, and his hands rose to her shoulders then moved down the length of her arms. She was powerless now, she couldn't move, but she didn't need to because the man could apparently read her mind. She wanted him to strip off her swimsuit, to free her breasts, and in that instant he slipped fingers under the straps and pushed them off her shoulders. He eased them down her arms and her straining breasts bounced free, settling into his warm, waiting palms.

"You have sand all over you," he said again, and Inga wiggled her hips as he gently tugged her swimsuit down around her ankles. He went down on her knees and help her step out of her suit, and as he rose to his feet Inga felt his tongue touch her skin at the back of her thigh and trace a line up her buttocks, to the small of her back, ending at the nape of her neck.

"Oh my God," Inga moaned. She tried to turn around to kiss him and thrust her hands into his groin, but he blocked her with his chest and forced her to face away from her again. He was still wearing his trunks and the fact that she couldn't see and touch his penis drove her half-mad. "Hand me that bottle," he said softly, and Inga reached out with trembling hands for a bottle of clear pink body wash. "Oh my God," she moaned again as he cracked open the bottle, tipped it over her breasts, and squeezed out a huge amount of the viscous, fragrant liquid.

He set the bottle down and used both hands to work it into a sweet-smelling froth that covered her breasts and shoulders. Inga spread her legs wide and braced herself against the walls of the stall as his strong, confident hands roamed all over her body. He didn't miss an inch--he caressed her shoulders, her neck, her thighs, her stomach, and then he went down on his knees against and sudsed her calves and ankles.

He stood up behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see him pulling the cord of his trunks and quickly pulling them down. He was wonderously erect, his penis not especially long but quite thick and capped with a beautiful, detached mushroom at the head. Inga spread her legs wide, knowing that he was finally going to impale her with that gorgeous cock and she'd come five seconds later.

He didn't mount her. Instead he poured more of the body wash on his hands and turned his full, loving attention on her breasts. "Oh my God," Inga moaned again, wishing she could think of something else to say but nothing else seemed appropriate. His chin rested on her shoulder and he leaned forward and gently kissed her earlobe. He kissed and nibbled at her as his slippery fingers tenderly caressed her erect nipples.

"You were teasing me down at the beach, weren't you?" he whispered into her ear.

"Yes!"

"Teasing me. Flashing these gorgeous tits at me. Making me want to touch them. Need to touch them. Weren't you?"

"Yes..."

His hands cupped her breasts and his fingers went wild over her nipples, tweaking and stroking them until Inga was half-crazed with need. There was a small bench against the side wall and Inga rested her left leg on it, opening herself to him.

"You can fuck me if you want," she said.

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Oh, I know that."

She tried to twist away from him but he was stronger than her and slippery as she was he held her fast. "Please fuck me," she moaned. "I want you to fuck me."

"I know you want me to fuck you. I knew you wanted to be fucked down at the beach. That's why I brought you here."

"To fuck me?" Inga said hopefully.

"No. To do this."

His lips moved from her earlobe to her neck, and his right hand slowly, slowly, slowly moved from her breast to her stomach. "Oh yes, oh yes," she whimpered as his fingers descended to her screaming pussy. And then, oh God, his foamy fingers touched her vagina. She pushed her hips forward as he let his fingers explore her. He didn't shove them inside her--instead he let them run up and down her furrow, moistening them with her juices before they slid up to fondle the burning rosebud of her clitoris.

His fingers moved in slow circles around her clit, and just like that she was close to orgasm. She desperately reached back and tried to grab his cock, but he pressed himself against her buttocks and denied her the pleasure of fondling him. He turned her away from the spray and crowded her even more, forcing her into the corner and effectively pinning her against the wall.

All the while he caressed her breasts and her pussy. "Please fuck me," she begged.

"No." he said, so terribly calm.

"Please," she cried, and there were actually tears in her eyes now.

"No." He released her breasts, grabbed the body wash, and Inga heard a loud SPLOOOGE behind her. He kept diddling her as he soaped her back and her ass, to which he now paid special attention.

"Don't you want to fuck me?" she panted.

"Of course I do," he said--and pressed his erection against the small of her back as proof."

"Oh my God," Inga said--again, before she moaned, "Then do it, put your cock inside me, please."

He said nothing for a few seconds, seconds he spent dancing his fingertips around her buttocks, his teasing fingers growing closer and closer to her tender opening. "What's your name?" he asked.

She didn't want to tell him. She was so out of control she was afraid that if he knew her name she'd be his slave forever. "Anna," she lied.

His index finger slowly, but insistenly, penetrated her ass. She moaned, squiremed, writhed, but he held her tight and wouldn't be denied. A finger of his right hand suddenly slipped inside her pussy and Inga started losing control. "Your name isn't Anna. That's a lie. I heard your friend say your name while you were teasing me on the beach. Teasing me with those beautiful breasts. I could see you staring at me. Thinking you were teasing me." He started fingering her ass and her pussy. "Tell me your name."

"Inga!" she moaned.

"Do you want to come, Inga?" he asked.

"I want you to fuck me!"

He forced his finger deep inside her ass. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes!!" she sobbed. "But I want you to fuck me first!"

He pressed himself against the small of her back, pulled his finger out of her pussy, and starting stroking her clitoris. "If I fuck you now," he said, "what will I have to look forward to the rest of the weekend?"

Her orgasm overwhelmed Inga. She didn't moan--she screamed. SCREAMED, so loud she thought her friends would be able to hear her down at the beach. His touch was so soft but so SURE, he kept giving her pleasure until she was gasping and trembling and nearly nauseous from the exertion. And when she was done, he carefully removed his fingers from her distended orifices, and gently turned her into the spray. She was covered in sweat, and once again he lathered her with the body wash, kissing her neck as he soaped her up.

It was a good two minutes before Inga finally had her wits about her, the echoes of her climax still thrummed inside her until that point. But when her pussy was still she slowly turned around, her hands reaching down for his penis.

But he'd already stepped away and pulled up his trunks. "I'm sorry, I should get back to my friends," he said. "I'll leave the door open, so once you're dressed feel free to use the bathroom."

And just like that, he was gone.

She pulled on her suit, walked into the house (which was very nice and probably slept 12 comfortably) and sat down on the toilet. She really didn't have to go. She just needed to sit down for a few minutes. Once she felt ready, she got up, left the house, and walked back to her chair on the beach.

He was sitting there as if nothing had happened. She did the same, pulling a cigarette out of her pack and touching it with her lighter. Was he staring at her. Yes, she felt in tune with him now. He was watching her smoke, watching her body. Wondering when he'd be ready to have sex with her.

She took a contented drag and decided she'd have to find a way to, ah, seize the initiative. Her friends came back a few minutes later. "Hey, there a bar down the way with a big outdoor deck, apparently it's the biggest party in town. That's our plan for the night."

"Sounds good," Inga said, loud enough for him to hear. And the corner of his lips curled just a bit, and that little smile told Inga that he wasn't quite in complete control of the situation. And Inga had a few tricks up her sleeve. She dragged on her cigarette, knowing thast she'd have some time to think before deciding which one to spring on him tonight.