He looked at me without comprehension.
“Bradley,” I said softly, “can I have your cell number, please?” He gave it to me.
I messaged Tony. ‘Please send this wonderful young man a photo of me for “inspiration!”‘
Bradley still looked confused, but asked again if there would be anything else.
Our phones buzzed at the same time. Mine said ‘done,’ his with the picture took longer to process.
“You’ll probably want to answer that,” I smiled at him.
His eyes went wide. He glanced at me, then his phone, then back at me (I think comparing the breasts to the picture’s), and again at the phone. “Jeezus,” he said and sat down on Thom’s lounge-chair.
Thom began to get up and try to see the phone, but I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back, then rolled toward the two of them and moved my hand to cover the phone from Thom’s view. “Uh-uh, that’s a gift for Bradley, not you, Wisconsin.”
Thom pouted, “Yeah, well I’m the one paying for the drinks.”
“Patience and a good attitude,” I winked at him as I came to a sitting position with my legs on either side of Bradley’s. I was fairly certain that my already scrunched bikini bottom was revealing quite a bit of me, but didn’t care.
I looked at the phone that Bradley cradled protectively on his lap, and smiled with some self-satisfaction at the photo Tony had chosen to send to him. Mygod, was I really comfortable with being displayed like that? I mean, talk about full frontal! Hell, I was hot and proud of it!
I tapped my knees against his, drawing him to look up. “Just one rule, okay? That never goes online and you never tell anyone my name.”
Bradley smiled, “Yes ma’am, that’s a deal. Thank you, Rita.”
I kissed him on the cheek and nodded, “Get back to work.”
Bradley stood, his still hard manhood at the most distracting height just in front of me. I honestly considered planting a kiss on his shorts, but instead leaned back, pushing my chest out and opening my legs wide to reveal my barely covered bottom. His eyes touched every part of me wantonly, with unadulterated desire. His smile was soft, his eyes between pleading and crying. He looked at the picture on his phone, stroked me again with his eyes and sighed. “I’ll know at least that you weren’t a dream,” he said raising the phone. “Have a safe trip home, ma’am?”
“Thank you, Bradley,” I said, moving my leg so he could step past. I watched him walk down the shoreline, swinging the tray in one hand and the phone in the other.
“He’ll be hard for a week,” Thom said.
“And you?” I nodded at his tented shorts as I closed my knees and brought my legs back on the lounger, sitting. My last move, for Bradley, had caused the bottom to roll between my labia majora and bury the tiny strip of fabric just hiding my wet angel wings, but providing a provocative invitation for Thom’s eyes.
Thom laughed, “I’m not as young as he is. I don’t think I could stay hard that long.”
With a devious grin I answered, “Maybe you just need motivation?” I reached back and grabbed the glass, taking a long, sensuous draw on the fresh glass of superb Irish whiskey, my upper body turned to Thom. I could feel his eyes squeezing my taut nipples, hardly as innocent and guileless as Bradley’s had.
I set the glass down, reached under my chair and pulled out my sunscreen from my bag. “Would you mind?” I asked, extending the tube to him. He sat up quickly, taking the tube, then chuckled as I turned and lay on my stomach.
“You’re a real…” he began
“Choose your next words carefully,” I warned as I stretched out.
“Honest,” he said, “I was going to say ‘motivator’, you’re a real motivator. A sexy, gorgeous motivator.”
“Mmm,,” I said, turning my head and tossing my hair to one side as I relaxed into the now flat lounger.
“please be very thorough, I don’t want to get burned… anywhere. And tell me about the folks who passed by earlier…” I shuddered and closed my eyes. This was new ground; Tony is the only man who has ever lotioned my body. A little voice asked me how I meant that…….
Thom started, perhaps still tenuous as to where this was heading, with my neck and shoulders as he narrated what had transpired as I lay topless for the roving beach pedestrians. There were pictures from all of the first group and I found that I was thrilled with the idea, with one of the men taking a few steps across the sand toward me to get what Thom described as a close-up of “where my legs met.” The alcohol and the lapping of the waves, along with the fine doctor’s soothing, expert touch relaxed me as I “saw” everything he described.
The guy who had stopped and simply stood for several minutes, the wife with the look of having swallowed a whole lemon, dragging her grinning, rubber-necking husband past this row of hussies displaying ourselves like this. The two men in business suits, pants rolled up and carrying expensive dress shoes, socks tucked inside, as they appeared to rate each of us who were topless, trading comments, pointing, nodding or shaking their heads. I wondered where I fell on their scale? All the while, he spread the sunscreen thoroughly, having completed my back to the line demarcated by the side ties of my bikini bottom. I felt him rest his hands as if trying to decide how to proceed, or just enjoying the touch on the small of my back.
My heart was not resting, though this was quite relaxing. He had lingered and slid his hands as he got to my side-boobs. I’m small, and know there is not much there when I lie down, but he’d taken his time and moved his hands as much as he dared along each side, nudging his finger-tips between the towel and the flesh of my breasts. I’d tried to remain neutral, neither encouraging or rejecting, still toying with how much I was going to allow, – how much I wanted.
My ears pricked up when Thom said, “And the last guy, in the black Speedo, really thought you were hot as hell.” His hands came off of me just then, but in a few seconds I felt the sunscreen drizzle across my glutes and Thom began to work it in.
His circular motion, I recognized, was meant to lull me as he spread my cheeks, – I did not tense. The last guy had walked past, then come back and stood, moving this way and that a few feet to truly study me. Thom said it was obvious that he had a hard-on, one the suit could hardly contain.
Thom put a dollop of lotion on my right calf and I realized he’d moved himself down to the end of my lounger, apparently kneeling between my legs. I almost laughed at myself for not realizing that I’d opened my legs, my feet on each side of the lounger giving Thom a place to rest himself. His motion was nearly massage-like as he worked the protective layer into my skin. He said he’d lost sight of the guy for a moment and had just about decided to sit up when he saw the man approach the side of my lounger, no more than two feet away. He had squatted and taken a shot “of the most nubile breasts” on the beach, catching a magnificent profile of my nipples “erect and proud, looking so wonderfully suckable.”
Thom was working on my left calf now as he stated, “from the way he looked to be framing the shot, it’s probably just your gorgeous breasts, with those amazing, perfect nipples of yours saluting the heavens, and the ocean in the background.”