Written by island life
12 Aug 2014
keeping on driving
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10 minute read
This is a follow-on from earlier stories, the last one was Driving Again, 08 August. I'd like to apologise for all the typos in that piece, it was posted in a hurry and submitted without spell-checking.
I'm Chris, my wife is Brenda, (B). We are ex-pat Brits, who have taken early retirement and left Blighty for warmer shores.
As many ex-pats know, when you run for the sun, you find you have more close friends and family than you ever realised back home and they all want to come and visit. You do get a few people who you actually like to see and our mutual friend Pat is one of these. He's self-employed and usually visits a few times a year, when work permits.
He always brings stuff with him, not only the usual tea bags, but various gifts for B. She's had clothes ,perfumes, underwear (bugger even knows the size since B's visit to the UK last year when he swears he bedded her, while she swears he didn't. Mmmm.). This time he upped the game and brought her a remote-control love egg.
The day after his arrival, we went out to the neighbouring town where she inserted the egg and let him have the remote. At first I wasn't party to this, only finding out when we were sat in a cafe and B, my wife, enlightened me by putting my hand up her skirt where I could feel her knickers vibrating. I wrote about that in Keep your Mind on the Driving (June 2014) and Driving Again (08 August) It was the start of a fantastic three weeks.
Here's what happened next. It's a bit long and the adventures continued almost every day, so please bear with me as I split the story up into sections to save you getting eye-strain!
The next day, after the success of the egg, B decided to give Pat control of their play for the day. This was a first as she's not usually submissive, nor is he generally dominant. It was also all the better as neither of them bothered to tell me what was going on.
We don't normally do the tourist thing, we all know the place pretty well by now, so I guessed it was game-on when they said we were going to town again and I was intrigued to see what would happen.
I got the car out of the garage and was sat in it waiting for them both to appear, which they did a several minutes later. B was dressed in her flimsiest sun dress. I like her sun dresses, they hide virtually nothing and you can see B's knickers and bra underneath. She always gets plenty of men looking, especially when she wears red underwear. it's quite a turn-on.
This dress though, is something else. There's no need to do a Lady Diana and get her standing in-front of the sun for an extra eyeful. It's very thin cotton and is virtually transparent. It was instantly clear she was bra-less; not that unusual, but still very pleasant.
We have a three-door motor and it has become something of a ritual for B to ride in the back when Pat's here, not least, I think, because it he always helps her to climb up and in and it always seems to take a lot longer than it should. For some reason, the only way she can get in is if he grabs her arse and pushes her in. This time, cheeky bugger told her he could feel her halfpenny as he helped her in. Very thin material, it seems.
We endure the holiday traffic and eventually arrive in town and disembark. I let them sort this out for themselves too. He's seen more of her tits this way than I can remember; even more this time as the girls were free.
Being too tight to use the air-con, we arrive hot and bothered and decide the first priority is to find a cold drink.
Just across the road is a very busy cafe that we frequent a lot. Not particularly touristy, but it gets the local talent in and they do take-aways for many of the nearby businesses, so it's always buzzing. We find a table near the door and Pat puts B in a seat facing the aisle and door. Nothing unusual in that. The waiter, one we'd not seen before, arrives, we order our drinks and decide what to do next. Still all normal.
After a while, I begin to notice B is casually adjusting her position a lot and, wondering why, start to pay attention. Every time a male passes the open doorway of the shop, she's opening her legs. OK, that's nice, she's flashing her drawers at passing strangers. Tame, but still nice. I'm watching now, to see if any of them notice. Some of course do and do the usual comedy double-take, just to be sure. One bloke passes, looks, then comes back a few minutes later and looks again. I'd do the same as I suppose many of us on here would. And so it goes on, a bloke passes, she flashes him. A few minutes later the two-trip fellow is back again, this time lingering more slowly. Pat whispers something in B's ear and she opens her legs and keeps them open. Bloke outside now stops and blatantly looks up my wife's dress. He comes inside and B alters her position, so now the man and indeed anyone at the counter could see if she flashes again. Of course, she does and this time not only the bloke, but the waiter happen to be in the firing line. The boys look at each other and smile, quickly looking back, not wanting to miss anything.
Pat whispers again, she shakes her head as if to disagree but he whispers again and she opens her legs again, leaving them apart and giving the pair a good look at her knickers. More people enter the shop, including the owner, who we know well and she closes the viewing only to be whispered at again.
I get a bit uncomfortable here, we know the man, but it was their game and part of me was keen to see what happened - and what might happen in the future if she did, so I keep quiet.
They exchange a few more words and she opens up shop again. The waiter is first to notice and nudges his new friend and his boss. All three now get a good view of her spread legs and whatever colour drawers she's got on today.
Now they can't really spend all day just looking at my wife's panties, pleasant as that may be, so they go their separate ways, but not before the waiter and the bloke smile at her and the boss comes over and asks how are we all doing. If I'd done that, I'd be sneaking a peek down the sundress, but he instead maintained eye-contact with her - and her alone - during the brief exchange. I wonder what can of worms has been opened.
By now we'd finished the cokes so up and left, walking into town, B between Pat and I. We wandered along to the harbour and played the 'how-much would that cost' game over the yachts moored there. More than we're ever likely to see, I think.
It's damned hot, so we find ourselves an empty bench which is fortunately sheltered by a tree. Now I'm not going to tell you the name of the harbour, or the location, as it's a small place and could likely identify us to the locals, but if you knew the place, you'd know the benches face the moorings and the vessels (are they ships, boats, whatever, I never know) are only three or four metres away, reversed in with gangplanks lowered. Many of the private ones have people sitting on the area just inside and as it happens we are opposited a sizeable American yacht with half-a-dozen of the beautiful people sat round a large glass top table.
After a minute or two, the whispering campaign begins again and I wonder if she'll have the bottle to play again as this time there are two women, one young, one our age in the group and plenty of passers-by who could get an eyefull.
To her credit and my excitement, she does. She flashies as people go by, opening and keeping them open when the boat occupants have a clear view. As it happens, the boat people are pretty much involved in whatever they're doing and none of them bother looking at the plebs on the harbourside, so we up and go.
It seems Lady Luck is with Pat, if no-one else, as we find a space on a part-occupied bench which happens to be opposite a small fising boat, complete with two extras from a Fisherman's Friend advertisment. This time Pat places her between himself and a stranger who is sat there. I'm banished to the sidelines. They go through the routine again and this time the fishermen notice. Maybe it's a normal thing for them to see, I don't know, but they don't bat an eyelid, just turn to face the show.
At this point, Pat turns to me and tells me to go away. I'm a bit shocked, but B nods in agreement so I wander off to try and find a vantage point where I can watch the show. The game continues, with B flashing passers-by and giving a longer look to the boys on the boat, both of whom are getting well into it.
Pat again whispers in her ear and to my utter horror, gets up and walks away, leaving B alone on the bench. He finds my observation post and tells me she's to continue the game for as long as she wants, but for at least another ten minutes. I don't know about B, but they were probably the longest ten minutes of my life as she played the game to the hilt, showing the fishermen and several more observant passers-by, the goodies.
It takes the boat boys a few minutes to work out neither of us lads is coming back and they start to beckon her onto the boat. This proves to be a bit too much for her - as far as I know, she's only played with Pat and I to date - and she shakes her head, gets up and leaves, smiling at the boys as she does.
Not wanting to spoil a good thing, we return to car and go for an afternoon's swimming at a nearby bay. As we're changing, I finally get to see what half the damn town has seen already this day. She's wearing a white thong, which may or may not have covered her well flashed pussy - I guess we'll never know.
We do have a couple of naturist beaches on the island, unfortunately this wasn't one of them and we share the sands with several families, so sadly further extra-curricula activities are not possible so we finish up and return home.
Come bedtime, I'm told it's still game-on and there's no hanky-panky for me tonight. No problem, I think, I can still listen at Pat's door, but to his surprise as much as mine, B laughingly says no-one is getting any tonight. No wanking allowed either - she wants to make us suffer as much as she has during the day.
It's a bit difficult trying to sleep whilst re-running the day's events and playing tents as a result, but it most certainly prolonged the tension of a great day.
If you're interested in hearing more of the best holiday ever, please tell me.
Thanks for reading :)