Fact
31 Jul 2015


It’s a new dress. Made of beautiful soft linen, thin straps around the shoulders and long; almost to the ground. In lovely shades of blue and white, it flows around her body as she walks on high heels: a glimpse of leg, a hint of nipple through the semi transparent fabric. We drive up into the mountains for dinner, high above the coast and the sparkling sea below. We park in the hotel garage and walk out onto the terrace looking down at the spectacular views. As she stands at the railing, the sun is low on the horizon, its light picking out her silhouette under the new dress. Three men are sitting on a bench, passing the time, talking in their native Italian. As she leans over the railing to look out over the valley below, she parts her legs to improve her balance and her bottom pushes back against the fabric of her dress. The setting sun drops in the sky behind her and illuminates the dress, the outline of her body becoming visible through the thin material. The shape of her legs, her thighs, the groove in her bottom running down to the slit between her legs. The men on the bench are speechless as they just sit and stare. Not at the mountains or the sea below but at the gorgeous sight of her bottom and pussy, lips spread, just feet from their faces, clearly on view without her aware. With a flick of her hair she turns and walks on to the other end of the terrace and the moment has passed.

We walk down stone steps to the village square where tourists are enjoying the evening sun. She walks with a confident, sassy gait; her shoulders back, her head held high, attracting attention as she strides across the square. Night has fallen now and the dress is opaque, still following the contours of her body but no longer made sheer by the sun’s rays. She is in a mood to shop and we browse the windows of the boutiques, displaying designer clothes, shoes, and jewellery. I sit on the wall while she works her way along the square, looking into every window, occasionally leaning in to inspect some vital item. It is then that I notice a group of Italian teenagers, watching her intently. They are sitting on the ground, leaning against a wall, smoking cigarettes, hair slicked back and cool as you like. The object of their attention is the dress. The shop window that has caught her attention is very brightly lit, with sparkling jewellery and watches in the window and bright lights which dance over the jewels on display. Those same bright lights project through the dress, picking out every curve and line of her petite body. She squats down to examine a piece on a low shelf in the window and her bottom and lips spread wide, the pink flesh of her vulva open, and the teenagers are entranced. They whisper to each other; one points and they move to get a better view of this beautiful woman stripped naked in front of them.

She walks around the corner, still window-shopping, down a smaller back street which leads off he square. Admiring the clothes in the windows she is unaware that the teenage boys are following her, watching her every move. The largest of the boys approaches her and says something. I am too far away to hear and I think they assume that she is alone. There are still lots of people in the square but none in the side street; just the boys and her. She catches my eye over his shoulder and she holds her hand out, palm downwards, to say to me ‘back off, I can handle this’. I keep my distance and slip into a darkened doorway to observe, my heart thumping, ready to intervene if necessary. She walks further down the street with the boy by her side, leading the way to another turning and another side street, this one darker, on the outskirts of the village. They disappear around the corner and I walk briskly to catch up, noticing that the other teenage boys have disappeared and thinking she is alone with a stranger in a dark back street, I start to worry. As I round the corner I step back quickly out of sight; leaning back against the wall is my wife, being kissed by the boy, the dress rucked up by his hand which is pulling her close to him. As I watch they kiss passionately; he grinds his pelvis against her and she leans her head back to allow him to kiss her neck. He uses both hands and lifts the dress to her waist; one hand moves between her legs, the other is on her bum. Then I notice the other boys who must have taken a different route as they gather around the couple. He hisses at them to leave, but they too are gripped by the eroticism of the scene and they are helpless to move, their hormones have taken over, and they watch hungrily as the older boy fingers her. Two of the others start to play with themselves and one boldly puts her hand on his cock and she automatically starts to rub it back and forth, which encourages the other boys to do the same. The boy comes quickly, ejaculating over her hand and another quickly replaces him, his cock hard as a rock. The dress now sits high over her small breasts, white from her bikini line, one pink nipple being fondled by one boy, another pushing his fingers into her pussy. The ringleader then pushes her down to her knees by her shoulders and pulls the dress over her head, leaving her naked in just her high-heeled silver sandals, her gold watch and a string of pearls around her neck. She squats on the dark street, gingerly takes his cock in her hand and slides her lips around it. Moving her head back and forth like a porn star, still with another cock in one hand, the other to balance herself against the paving stones. It is a deeply erotic sight and my heart is thumping with desire as I watch from the shadows. With a jerk of his hips the largest boys comes, shooting a stream of semen over her face and then pushing his cock into her mouth, he holds her head and thrusts until he is spent. The next boy quickly takes his place, his cock small but hard and again she fellates him. The other boys are all around her now and she is on her hands and knees, her vulva pink and swollen, glistening with her juices. The largest boy has already recovered and lines himself up behind her, spreading her cheeks as he hungrily eyes her small white bum. His erection is long and hard and he easily slides into her, ramming the full length of his adolescent cock into the slick folds of her pussy. She stops briefly, taken by surprise, then pushes back to the rhythm of his bucking hips, lost in the pleasure of the moment.

He slides in and out of her, her juices glistening on his cock as he withdraws before plunging himself hard into her. With a grunt he withdraws, and wanks his cock as he comes over her bum hole, spraying a stream over her back. Now self-conscious he zips himself up and turns to run up the alley way; reluctantly the other boys follow, looking over their shoulder, as if suddenly aware of the danger, leaving her dishevelled, and half-naked on the street corner like a common prostitute.

After dinner we drive back down the mountain to the sea and follow the windy road along the coast. She has drunk most of the bottle of wine, as I have wanted to stay sober for the drive home. She leans back in her seat in the car and is soon asleep. The dress has a slit, and as the car weaves around corners her legs fall apart and the dress rides up, lying between her legs, her suntanned thigh on display, inviting a touch. I rest my hand on her leg; no response, she is fast asleep. I leave my hand, enjoying the contact and the knowledge that inches from my fingers is her pussy, on show only hours earlier, and now out of sight in the folds of the dress under the cover of darkness. I can resist no longer; my left hand on the wheel, my right hand slides up along her soft skin, pushing the fabric of the dress aside until my fingers meet the soft fold between leg and groin; even in the darkness the white skin under her bikini line gleams, in contrast to her tanned legs. I push the dress further and I can feel her pubic hair under my fingers, trimmed very short but soft and wispy, the sign of a true blonde. My middle finger slides over the soft down and into the slit of her pussy, easing into the folds with a gentle circular motion, around the tiny bud of her clitoris, then sinking deeper into the warm slick groove of her pussy. She soon reacts to my touch and an oily sheen allows my fingers to glide over her skin. I start to move my fingers faster in response to her wetness, then I push three fingers deep into her cunt as she thrust against me and orgasms, bucking her hips once, then again, then she is still; fast asleep, and I am aroused and on fire.


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