Lily walked slowly, seeking an excuse not to do what she was about to, but unable to find one. She wanted to masturbate, and to do it in the open, as she had done on Aldon Hill. It was a compulsion, far beyond her will to resist, a need to be bare and to be rude, to come in the open with her mind full of dirty thoughts. She had visited the far end of Ness Beach before, looking for marine animals among the rock pools, a lonely place, and the one she had chosen for her fantasy the night before. Sometimes there were people there, and there had been more as the season progressed. Yet beyond the pools a series of rock ledges thrust out into the sea, directly beneath Aldon Head. The east face of each was near vertical, a hard scramble even for somebody fit. Certainly the old man who invariably sat on a boulder and watched the girls pass would be unable to follow. The west faces were shallow slopes of red rock, worn smooth by the wind and waves, perfect sunbathing places.
She knew exactly what she was going to do, despite telling herself that it was improper and that Ed would disapprove. She would climb as many of the steep faces as she could, find a sheltered place and strip nude. With her body well oiled with sunblock, she would relax, slowly allowing her dirty thoughts to build up until at last she could wait no more and was driven to masturbate.
As she reached the mouth of the Ness tunnel she glanced back. Footsteps could be heard, echoing in the tunnel, then someone appeared, a slim, dark-haired girl who had been on the ferry with her. Her mouth set in an irritated pout, then relaxed as she told herself the girl was unlikely to take the trouble of going right out to the point. She climbed down the steps and set off along the beach. The old man was there, as always, puffing on his pipe. He greeted her with a nod and she smiled back.
At the rock pools she looked back again, finding to her annoyance that not only was the dark-haired girl still following her, but that another figure was visible, a male, skinny and underdeveloped, scarcely more than a boy. She frowned, wondering if he was the same boy she had seen up by the Wythman the day she had masturbated. A horrid thought came to her, that he may have watched her and now be following her, but she dismissed it as paranoia.
She climbed the first face, glancing back at the top. The boy had sat down on a rock and was looking out towards St David’s Island through a large pair of binoculars. The girl was among the rock pools and smiled at her as she approached. Lily returned the smile, but nervously, finding something odd about the girl’s face. She was pretty, beautiful even, but her eyes seemed unnaturally bright and were green.
As she moved to the next ledge she remembered the colour of Nich Mordaunt’s eyes, paler than the girl’s but with the same disturbing intensity. Reasoning that she might well be his sister, and telling herself not to be silly, she moved on. She had intended to cross three or four ledges, but knowing that people were coming up behind her she went further, scrambling on to the next two with ever greater difficulty. The seventh proved larger, with a great gentle slope of rock, warm in the hot sun, but angled away from the sea. It was perfect, the area by the cliff providing absolute concealment unless someone actually peered over the cliff top. That seemed unlikely. Besides, the eighth appeared unclimbable, a sheer face three times her height with no obvious footholds.
Glancing back, she saw no sign of the black-haired girl. The last climb had been difficult, some twelve feet of nearly sheer rock, surely enough to put other people off. Sure enough, neither the girl nor the boy appeared, and after a time she felt bold enough to pull off her dress. For a while she lay still, feeling the sun and the cool, light breeze on her skin, enjoying being in just her bra and panties. Gradually her sexual pleasure rose and with it her fear of being caught reduced. With a deliciously rude thrill, she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, letting it fall from her breasts.
Being bare-chested felt wonderful, deliciously exposed, and for a while she sat still, revelling in the feel of daring to go topless and the knowledge that shortly she would be naked. Her breathing was coming fast, her sex felt ready. In the back of her head she knew that what she was doing was generally considered no more than mildly risqué, yet for her it was more, much more, especially when she fully intended to follow her nude sunbathing with masturbation.
Obeying a sudden impulse, she lifted her bottom and pushed down her panties, sliding them the length of her legs and off, tossing them aside, casually, as she imagined a stripper might do. She was near naked and it felt great, her shoes only emphasising her nudity. The feel of being bare was exquisite, with even her sex showing, open to the warm air as she deliberately spread her thighs wide. Ed would have been furious at her, she was sure, taking the view that she was his property and should be demure and reserved unless it was for his pleasure. She smiled, thinking of him at work, imagining her in her flat or out shopping, buying the steak he had ordered her to cook for supper. Instead she was out on the rocks, stark naked, her body nude to the air.
She spread her towel, smiling all the while, and began to oil herself, applying generous amounts of sunblock to her fair skin. It was cool, and felt good, her body extrasensitive as she caressed herself, wondering why she was feeling so wonderfully rude but enjoying it far too much to worry or even feel more than a twinge of the guilt that always plagued her. Her breasts were in her hands, smooth and oily, the nipples stiff and excited. She played with them, squeezing them and lifting them, wishing they were bigger but thoroughly happy with the way they responded to her touch.
With her body oiled she lay down, determined to take it slowly. Her towel was at the top of the ledge, allowing her to see the next one and so cover herself if anybody did come. She set her legs apart, deliberately showing off her sex, and closed her eyes, her mind drifting pleasantly to the sound of seagulls and the gentle wash of the waves. Without really knowing what she was doing, she reached down, her hands stealing to her vulva, her fingers stroking, spreading her sex lips, finding her clitoris and beginning to tease.
She knew she was masturbating, that she was out in the open, that she might be caught. None of it mattered, providing only an exciting edge to her rude behaviour, while she was certain that Ed’s fury would know no limits if he found out. The belting she had been given the night before had been for fun, though her bottom was marked with bruises and even now ached as she moved her cheeks against the towel. If Ed knew she liked to masturbate outdoors she would get worse, far worse, but Ed never needed to know. It would be her secret, her special thing, proving that however much he might rule her body he would never possess her mind.
Lily cocked her legs open, too excited to care as she spread her vulva to the sky. Her back arched up, pushing her sex out, her fingers now rubbing firmly at the taut bud beneath them. Ed would never know, nor would he know what she thought about, the strange, obscene fantasies she had been having since reading Nich Mordaunt’s book, fantasies of tentacles and suckers, of eight strong, pliant arms to hold her body, of sex with octopus.
She cried out, imagining how it would be, a great, heavy creature pulling himself up the rock ledge. His tentacles would take her, holding her, caressing her. She would lift her arms and spread her thighs as wide as they would go, offering herself, unstinting, to his embrace, wide and free as he took her in. His sperm arm would penetrate her vagina, filling it far beyond anything Ed could manage with his feeble penis. Her bottom hole would be entered, a tentacle tip squirming inside to tease the flesh of her rectum. A tentacle would go into her mouth, suckers would cup her breasts, the huge, bulbous, heavy body would be on her stomach, pressing her down as a lover should, not hurting her but holding her, keeping her.
Lily cried out as she came, writhing her fingers in the oily mush of her sex, her back held in a tight arch, her erect nipples pointed skywards, her mouth wide in ecstasy. Nor did her orgasm break to guilt and shame as it normally did, but went on, keeping her moaning and dabbing at her clitoris until at last the feelings began to subside and she lay back, moaning softly. For a while she stayed still, utterly content, only then opening her eyes to
find three naked black-haired girls watching her.
Joe walked forward, feigning nonchalance. Both girls had climbed on to the rock ledges. He had waited long enough and both would be sunbathing, naked or near naked, and it was a treat he did not intend to miss. The blonde may even be masturbating, a thought that had his cock hard and made him dizzy with lust. He felt scared, yet he was determined to act, at the least to ask for sex. The blonde girl seemed timid, so timid he was sure he could squeeze a blow job out of her with a bit of pushing, maybe more. If she was masturbating, then he was sure to get more. It was all down to timing: catch her when she was coming and she would want him to join in, she had to.
His strategy was set. He would climb the ledges, casually. After all, he had as much right to be there as they did, and he could not be expected to alter his behaviour merely because they chose to take their clothes off in public. He would watch as he went, taking in whatever was on offer. The dark-haired girl would hopefully be showing her tits, maybe everything, but he had decided not to accost her. Her manner suggested he would be given short shrift.
The blonde was another matter, and his target. He would be blunt, stating his admiration for her body and suggesting sex. Hopefully she would respond as Tammy had. If not, then at least he had shown the courage to try, and hopefully would have got a good eyeful into the bargain.
He began to climb, finding each ledge empty but with his hope rising as he realised the effort the girls had gone to for privacy. The fourth face was hard, the fifth actually frightening, yet the girls were on neither of the slopes beyond. The sixth face was easier, the seventh the worst, but still the slope proved empty. Puzzled, he stopped, surveying the fifteen-foot face that cut him off from the eighth slope. Both girls had gone in front of him, he had passed neither. The cliff itself was effectively unscalable, which left the sea.
There, clearly, was the answer. They would have stripped to bikinis, thrown their clothes up on to the ledge and swum around. The sea was calm enough, and by doing so they made absolutely certain of their precious privacy. For a moment he felt anger, cheated of his prey, as, however much he liked to watch girls’ bodies, he hated to show his own. Stripping and swimming around to the next slope was out of the question, besides which, he could hardly throw his binoculars on to the rock or swim with them.
He looked at the face, thinking of the beautiful bodies spread on the slope beyond, almost certainly naked in the hot sun — stark naked. The girls had probably met and were chatting. They may even rub sun-tan lotion into each other, and that could lead anywhere. The thought of watching a lesbian encounter between the girls was too much. It may be unlikely, but there had to be a chance, and it was not a chance he was about to miss.
Walking back up the slope, he noticed a smudge of oil on the dry rock, confirming his suspicions. Somebody had been there, recently. It had to have been one of the girls, and, to judge by the shape of the smear, she had been sitting on the rock, probably with her bottom bare. It would have been the blonde, he decided: she had gone first. She would have been stripped, sitting and oiling herself when the dark-haired girl caught up. They would have talked, discussing how nice it was to sunbathe nude and expressing annoyance that he was on the beach at all. The dark-haired girl would have suggested swimming round to the next ledge, pointing out that he had been fully dressed and carrying expensive binoculars. The blonde would have agreed, laughing at the thought of his frustration when he found he could not follow.
Joe set his mouth in a determined line. The cliff face was rough, jagged ledges of harder rock following the same strata lines that had caused the formation of the ledges. Higher it was smoother, unclimbable, yet he needed to go only so far. There was a ledge, some thirty feet up, with tufts of grass and a single straggling bush clinging to it. He could reach it, he was sure, and from there he would be able to look down on to their hiding place.
He pushed his binoculars on to his back and walked to the face, starting the climb before common sense could get the better of him. It was hard, the sandstone rough yet with few purchases. Twice he nearly slipped —finding himself clinging to the face with his heartbeat hammering in his ears — but at last he made it, pulling himself on to the ledge and into the shelter of the bush. Immediately his face broke into a wide grin. There were girls on the slope, not just two either, but four, three stark naked, a positive goldmine of nubile flesh, tits, bums and pussies, all on show for his pleasure. The fourth was the blonde, in her dress but with wet bra and panties clutched in one hand. Two were eating, scooping what appeared to be ice cream from a large tub. A moment later he realised that he had seen one of them before: it was Tammy.
‘We are being watched,’ the smallest of the girls remarked, so casually that Lily managed not to turn around.
Her first instinct on discovering that the three of them had watched her masturbate had been to run in blind, blushing panic. There had been nowhere to run to, short of jumping from the ledge, and they had immediately begun to talk, making light of what she had done, complimenting her, arguing that it was nothing unusual to want to masturbate, even saying how beautiful she had looked at orgasm. They had shown no shame, no embarrassment, no reproach, only a delight in her and the pleasure she had been taking in her own body. In the end she had given in, responding to their requests to sit and talk and share their meal.
By then she had been back in her bra and panties. They had persuaded her to join them on the next slope and she had followed their advice and thrown her dress up and then swum around, removing her underwear and putting on her dress. They had stayed nude, the smallest even teasing her for covering up. The slope was bigger even than the one she had sunbathed on, a broad expanse of gently sloping rock, cutting back into the cliff and ending not in sheer rock, but in a great sea cave. Nor did it end at the next face, but sank below the water, which disappeared into the blackness of the cave mouth.
The girl who had followed Lily along the beach, Juliana, had brought food, ice cream, honey and peaches. She had accepted a peach, her anus twitching at the sight of the honey. They had introduced themselves as they ate and she had responded, finding herself relaxing despite the way they had seen her.
‘Who by?’ she asked in response to Linnet’s statement.
‘A Peeping Tom,’ Tammy answered. ‘I’ve met him before. He’s called Joe.’
‘He followed me along the beach,’ Juliana added.
‘Him!’ Lily answered. ‘The dirty so-and-so! I knew he was like that. Shouldn’t you dress?’
‘Why?’ Linnet answered.
‘He’s seen everything anyway,’ Tammy pointed out.
‘We should catch him,’ Juliana went on. ‘We could make him strip for us. They always hate it when you turn the tables.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ Lily answered.
‘She would,’ Tammy replied, ‘but you’re not to hurt him, Juliana. He’s not a bad sort at all, really. He bought me an ice cream.’
‘Typical,’ Juliana said. ‘It used to be honeycomb. The men would feed me some, then smear it on their cocks so that I’d suck.’
Lily felt her blushes rising, thinking of Ed’s penis, sticky sweet with honey, but hardly fresh honey. Linnet giggled, looking up at Lily’s reddening face through a mask of ice-cream-sticky fingers.
‘What if we take him and he tells?’ Tammy asked.
‘A Peeping Tom?’ Juliana answered. ‘He’d love it, underneath, at least. It’s probably what he’s thinking about right now.’
‘Would you, really?’ Lily asked. ‘I mean, not that he doesn’t deserve it, but wouldn’t we be better to just report him to the police?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind being peeped at,’ Juliana answered. ‘I just want some fun with him. Tammy, he’s had you, you get him to come down.’
Tammy rose, wiping her fingers on her stomach and walking down to the water. She slipped in, swimming with enviable ease as Lily wondered if she had given herself to the Peeping Tom or if Juliana was teasing. In either case
, the sheer ease and confidence of the girls was wonderful, fascinating, also something she wished she could have herself. It was hard to see any of them allowing themselves to be bullied in the way Ed treated her, impossible in the case of Juliana.
‘Let’s watch,’ Linnet suggested, rising, still with the tub of ice cream in her hand.
Lily turned. Joe had realised he’d been seen and came out of his partial concealment behind the bush. He was sitting on the ledge, looking bashful as he watched Tammy climb from the sea. She was smiling, and as she stood she cupped her breasts, holding the big globes of flesh out in obvious invitation.
‘Hi, Joe!’ she called. ‘Why don’t you come down?’
Joe hesitated, looking very unsure of himself.
‘Come down,’ Tammy urged. ‘I’d like some fun. So would my friends.’
Juliana gave a friendly wave. Linnet turned and wriggled her bottom at him.
‘What about the big black guy?’ Joe asked, glancing around as if expecting half a dozen angry boyfriends to rise from the sea.
‘He was just a fancy man, a one-night stand,’ Tammy answered. ‘You were much more fun. Come on, I’ve told my friends all about your lovely big cock. We’ll let you put it in us, all of us.’
‘Promise?’ Joe answered.
‘Promise,’ Tammy replied.
Lily found herself smiling, astonished by the boy’s lust and stupidity. He had been peeping at them, and yet he believed Tammy’s offer.
‘Come on, girls, swim round!’ Tammy called as Joe began to climb down, her voice happy and playful, anything but menacing.
Juliana chuckled, Linnet gave a delighted giggle and both girls turned to run down the rock. Lily followed, then paused, realising that she would have to take her dress off in front of Joe if she wanted to follow the others. She stopped, deciding that all in all it was best to stay where she was.
Sitting on the edge of the face, she watched as the girls swam over, joining Tammy before Joe had reached the ground. When he did get down, the three were standing together, Tammy with her arm around Linnet, Juliana a little to the side, her hands on her hips. He looked at them and shrugged, a gesture both of uncertainty and apology.
Deep Blue Page 18