Gail Uses Sandor

The next day I was early. Mrs. H. was still getting ready to leave so I took Freddie outside and pushed him on a swing made from tire rubber.

When Mrs. H. returned at lunchtime she was a little late. She stepped into the toilet that was in the kitchen to the right of Freddie’s table. A moment or two later she came out, asked if Freddie had behaved, and started on our lunch. It seemed to me she was slow today, or was I anxious. When she squatted again I was ready, and she didn’t hesitate to open her legs today. I could see her pussy lips through the hair, I groaned, my cock was about to burst. Mrs. H asked me to hand her a sponge. I panicked for a moment then regrouped and slid from behind the table. I took the two steps to the sink, half bent over, and another two to hand over the sponge. She reached for the sponge but stopped short of taking it, and looked me in the eyes. Her legs were still spread, she was still squatting, and my cock was not more then two feet from her face.

After what seemed an eternity she took the sponge and said, “Do I cause that?” and she nodded looking towards my cock.

I didn’t know what the dangers were, so I just stood there, like an idiot, feeling like I was getting redder faced by the second. “I don’t know, Mrs. H.” I foolishly said, and I was still bent over, my cock now harder then before.

She smiled. So warmly that I felt my cock twitch. “It wouldn’t be the best thing you walking home like that, would it? She asked.

I nodded and agreed, “No.”

Still, with that thrilling smile and her legs spread wide, she said, “Why don’t you step in there and…arrange things,” and she nodded toward the toilet just inches to my right.

I nodded, and stepped to the door, still bent, and pushed the folding door inward. When I was inside I switched on the fluorescent light and pushed the middle and the door, it expanded and the center clicked closed. I looked in the mirror and saw that I was red faced. My hard cock was pushing a tent in my pants. I turned and stepped to the toilet. I unzipped my pants and held my cock, standing in front of the toilet, wondering if I should urinate or should I masturbate. I lowered the toilet seat, turned, and sat down, my cock still sticking out.

Just as I started to stroke my cock, the door center clicked and the door folded partly inward. Mrs. H was standing at the side looking in, “Are you alright?” She asked, sounding concerned.

I was mortified, my cock still in hand, “Yes,” I said.

She continued to stand at the cracked door looking in, and I continued to look at her face. She looked away from my eyes to my cock and slowly the door opened further, and when it was halfway open she stepped inside and leaned her back on the door, partially closing it. She was standing six inches in front of me. “Go ahead, finish,” she said, nodding at my hand on my cock.

My hand started to move on my cock, all the while starring at her face. I tried to finish opening my fly with my other hand, “Why don’t you take them down?” Mrs. H. said.

I unbuckled and opened my pants while still sitting, then lifted just enough to slide them down to my thighs. I started touching myself again, and within moments I was panting, but strangely enough, I wasn’t ready to come. Mrs. H. was paying rapt attention to my hand wrapped around and stroking my cock. Her eyes were hooded, her mouth slightly open, and now when I think of it, even if it is my imagination, I picture her breathing heavily as well.

After two or three minutes of touching myself Mrs. H. said, “Does it help if you look at me?” and she started to lift her dress. I was fixated on the hem of her dress slowly rising, first over her knees, then slowly up her thighs. All the while Mrs. H. is starring at my cock. Slowly the hem lifted to where I could see hair, then the bottom of her pussy, and when her pussy was fully exposed, and I saw the dark hint of her slit through the hair, I exploded. My only sound was “Uuhhhnnn,” as spurt after squirt of cum shot over the floor, on her foot, and on the roll of toilet paper.

“That was lovely,” Mrs. H. said, smiling at me. I smiled back, feeling thankful, and oh so grown up.

The next day was the same. Mrs. H spread her legs her slit seemed more visible today. I was hard, and even had the courage to place my hand on my pants over my cock. She never acknowledged that she was exposing her pussy but, out of the blue she says, “Why don’t you use the toilet,” I sprang to me feet and stepped inside, this time leaving the door cracked. A minute later she was at the door, then inside. Mrs. H. moved from the door and leaned against the sink. Her dress still down. I touched myself looking from her face to her dress very many times, while her gaze was fixed on my cock. Finally she lifted her dress in one motion and just stood there totally exposed, for the first time clear up to her waist. After a minute or two she lifted her left leg onto the ledge around the toilet seat, and allowed her bent knee to swing out. It opened her legs wide enough for her pussy to open at the center and I sucked in air at the sight.

“Stop for a moment Mrs. H said.” I stopped moving and she continued, “Stand here she said, beckoning in front of her. I stood, and holding my pants at my thighs and shuffling toward the sink, I stood in front of Mrs. H. “You can rub it here…” she said, and she jutted out her groin. Humping toward her I placed the head of my cock on her hair, then her thigh, and then started rubbing on her pussy. I managed to get between her thighs, on her pussy, across her slit and around her belly, before I started to tremble and cum burst out of me with such force that it splattered against her belly leaving a large round pool. I spurted again and again, in her hair, on her thigh, on her fingers holding her dress. Toward the end I managed to place my cock on her slit, to deposit my cum as close to being inside her as I could get.

The next two days was the same. I knew what we were going to do, I dreamed about it all night long. When she came into the toilet I immediately stood in front of her. She let me rub up and down her slit, and the first time I made a feeble attempt to slide into her, she moved slightly. I backed off but a few minutes later lust won out and I tried again. This time part of me entered. I moved around and took my cock out. I rubbed some more then tried entering her again. This time she moved a little to make it easier. Most of my cock was in her when I started to cum. I sighed when it started and she moved, just enough to let more of me slide in, and I finished shooting all my cum into her. Another milestone was when I started to cum she placed her right hand on my behind, gently guiding me forward. It was the first time she had touched me, and I swore to myself that I would love Mrs. H. forever. On the last day she actually kissed me, and thanked me for being so helpful, and hoped I would come back the next year.

Gail loved the story, which I would usually abbreviate to get to the parts that I knew excited her most. “What were you thinking when Mrs. H. first showed you…with no underwear.” Gail asked her voice husky and low. She was moving on my cock in short thrusts, lifting when she withdrew, bearing down as my cock slid into her. She had to overcome her shyness to even ask me about Mrs. H., and even now after many times, Gail gets red faced, blushing when she asks.

“First I was surprised,” I whispered, “then I was so excited I believe I could have cum that second, it was so hot...she was so hairy.”

Gail asked many more questions. We were making love for fifteen or twenty minutes when she asked, “Tell me how it felt when she first let you slid into her.”

“Hot, she was so wet…she was looking down at my cock, one hand was holding her dress, that’s when she touched me. I shot so hard that it ached…”

Gail responded to my answer by pumping against me in two or three short thrusts and said, “Oh Ri…oh baby, I’m going to cum.” Her humping motion increased in force, the bed shook a little, “Get on top baby…” she said, and we flipped, in a practiced motion, my cock still deep inside her. She bent her legs back, and pressed them against my side. I started to thrust into her in long quick motions. Gail had her hands on my shoulders, her face was partly illuminated by a strip of outside light, and I could see that her eyes were closed. I continued to thrust, a little slower now but it felt like I was deeper in her belly, now pushing hard, and when I was fully in her I’d shove upwards, trying to get further inside. Each time my cock touched bottom Gail would sound a breathy “Aahhh,” then, when I’d shove to get deeper, she would groan softly, her tone deep, saying “Uuhhnn,” Finally, she sounded a raspy groan as her orgasm came upon her and whispered, Oohh yes, Uuhh, I’m cumming… do it baby, I’m cumming,” her hands on my shoulders pulling me down upon her.

Some minutes later, lying side by side again, she whispered, “I love it when you tell me that story.”

“I love your story more,” I said, and I felt Gail’s hand nudge me against my thigh.

The next day we breakfasted with Giancomo and Gabriela, then, we packed canvas bags and donned our beach wear, and headed for the harbour. Cornelious was waiting to taxi us down. We asked him for suggestions for the best beach, but in the end we took a water taxi to a beach that was recommended by a friend of Gabriela’s.

It was a magnificent beach set into a low mountain backdrop. It wasn’t packed full as the elegant beaches in south France but there were towels with couples everywhere, an occasional small family group with children, and small rental tents and old fashioned folding chairs with the striped stretch-cloth seat and back. Everyone was topless, old and young, and handsome young men prowled the beachfront ogling the girls. After an hour on the sand Gaincocmo and I were ready to leave, but the girls were enjoying themselves, walking the beach, attracting young men, and sunning. At one point I walked to the water to cool and sat on the sand on the edge of the surf. Soon after Gabriela walked in front of me, “Are you lonely?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, join me.

Gabriela sat beside me in the surf, her beautiful bare breasts inches away on my left. We talked about many things. When we mentioned something about Giancomo, she commented, “Thanks again for getting Giancomo here.”

I looked at her, squinting my eyes as if to question what her comment meant, “I didn’t get him here,” I insisted.

“You influenced it,” she replied.

“I don’t know how I can influence him.”

“You can,” she simply stated. “He really thinks highly of you.”

“Huh,” I laughed. “I know he likes me, as I do him, but why would a man like Giancomo think highly of me.”

“You know what he said just before we left Milan?” She paused, creating theater, “He said that he thought that you and Gail were the most mature couple he has ever met.”

I just looked at Gabriela, momentarily not even noticing her breasts, “I guess that’s nice of him to think that. I wonder why?”

“He is very full of insight, and a good judge of people,” Gabriela said.

“Maybe because he slept with Gail, and we’re still friends.” I added.

Gabriela was quiet for a long moment, “I thought that they…,” she said softly, a far away look in her eyes. Then looking at me, “I wasn’t sure that she told you.”

I looked at Gabriela, arching my brows and tilting my head as if to ask if I looked stupid, but I didn’t say anything.

Gabriela was looking directly in my eyes, and I watched her face slowly take on a mischievous look, her eyes squinting as her face creased in a smile. “Now you could love me and not feel guilty,” she said, and she reached her two hands to my face and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

“Gail thinks you are everything a woman should be, she’s your great fan,” I said.

“And I think the same of her,” Gabriela returned, smiling, not at all slowed by my comment.

I added, “I also think she is a little jealous of … that I think you’re so special.”

“Well,” Gabriela responded, she was rising now, “I’m jealous of her too.” Her smile broadened and she reached out her hand for me, then she leaned back against my weight to help me rise.

We left the beach by water taxi in the early afternoon and upon arriving at the harbour, we searched out a small restaurant. We all ate the house specialty of a salad served in large wooden bowls, with big hunks of feta cheese and immense Calamata olives. The lettuce was laced with herb leaves, and at the table the waiter mixed in olive oil, squeezed fresh lemon, and splashed dashes of yellow vinegar, then blended and tossed it with wooden spoons. It tasted like everything had just been picked from a garden, and we were later told that the cheese had been made that morning, with fresh goat milk and lemon. We accompanied the salad with beer instead of the retsina wine, and, when we left, all of us commented on how delicious it was and the simplicity of it all. Then we went in search of Cornelious.

When Cornelious arrived he informed Giancomo that he had received the three boxes from Rhodes. It seems Giancomo had called Italy and arranged for three cases of wine to be sent, and he had informed Cornelious to please pick them up when they arrived on the Rhodes ferry.

We walked from the courtyard in front of the house, and Cornelious delivered the three boxes to the entryway. Giancomo carried one case upstairs and I another. When I returned for the last case I looked out the window, Gregory and Vivian were driving up on a scooter. I walked outside and greeted them, “Hello,” I said, as they were dismounting, “that certainly looks like fun.”

Gregory answered, “Yes, we rented this… great for exploring. It’s the way to travel here. Today we went through the valley out back. Been looking at it for a week, now we’ve seen it up close”

“We see a part of the valley from our room,” I said.

“Come in and see it all,” Vivian said, and she followed Gregory as they walked by me toward their entry. Gregory was a few steps ahead and I followed Vivian, and I took advantage of the view. She was wearing high cut tight shorts, and It seemed she was aware of how much of her ample behind showed, as she swayed back and forth during the short trip across the walkway. One whole side of their house had a broad view of the entire valley, which I thought was austere without the contrast of the sea side view. The valley was green with small bushes in every direction, and lower down the mountainside an olive grove was the only land in the whole of the valley that was attended.

I drank a beer that Gregory offered and chatted with them for about ten minutes. Vivian sat opposite me, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her shorts pulled tight between her legs, The shorts accentuated the puffy sides of her vagina, and indenting into the lips. I believed she knew that it was drawing my attention, and each time she moved the effect was more exciting. Ten minutes later I rose to leave promising that we would reciprocate the invitation.

When I returned to our house I found Gail sitting upstairs talking with Gabriela, and I mentioned where I had been as I sat to join them. Gabriela informed, “Rian, we have three bottles of wine for our neighbors. Giancomo set them aside,” and she nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen, where three bottles were standing at the corner of the counter.

“I’ll take them the wine,” I said, “and mention it’s from Giancomo.”

“Just say it’s from all of use,” Gabriela suggested, “and tell them that we are inviting them to dinner tomorrows night.”

We chatted for some time, and decided for Giancomo, since he wasn’t there, that we would find a good fish restaurant. I immediately rose and went to the wine cases with the white wine, and collected six bottles of white wine and placed them in the refrigerator.

About thirty minutes after I arrived I rose to go back to our room. The girls were talking about mixing colors and fashion, and Gabriela was telling Gail where to buy the Italian lingerie they seemed to favor. It was close to five in the afternoon. I’d copy Giancomo and take a nap. I collected the wine for Gregory and took leave of the girls.

I knocked on the door of the front house and then knocked again. Finally the door opened and Vivian was standing to the side in a short white robe that barely reached her thighs, her hand was holding the top of the robe closed. I must have looked down at her legs when she greeted me, because she gave a knowing smile, and I felt embarrassed at my lack of manners. “Hello,” I said.

“Hello,” and after a pause, in another tone, “Nice that you’re back,” Vivian said, and I wondered if the tone was her way of teasing me. “Come in.”

“Sorry to be a bother.” I had the three bottles cradled in my left arm, “You want to take these, or ask Gregory…they’re a gift from us.”

Vivian’s face lit up. “Why thanks, that’s so nice,” then again she said, “sooo nice. We’re tired of the local wine,” then she added, “Gregory went for water. Sit down,” she added.

I again sat opposite her on a small couch and this time she sat in a large backed rocking chair. Her robe literally left all of her legs uncovered, and if she didn’t have a hand on her thighs, I’m sure I would have been looking at her pussy hair. Vivian said something but I guess my mind was wandering, and I didn’t hear her. “Excuse me” I said.

Vivian didn’t respond. Instead she leaned forward and looked down at her legs, “You can’t see anything, can you?” She asked.

“Not really,” I answered, then added, “though, I guess it’s an imagination thing,”

Vivian continued, “It’s almost silly, we sit on the beach naked and don’t worry about it, then…” and she paused catching up with my remark, “you mean you imagine what you’d like to see?”

I simply nodded, and she gave me a very provoking smile. “I’d better go.,” I said. “I should take a nap so I can party late.” Vivian rose at the same time as I did, and followed me to the door. “Don’t forget tomorrow night,” I reminded.

“We won’t,” Vivian said. And, as I opened the door she leaned into me to kiss my cheek. “Thanks for the wine.”

I must have slept soundly. It was almost 8 o’clock when I woke up. Gail had a towel wrapped over her breasts and was putting on her makeup. When she saw me in the doorway, she smiled, “You’ve had a good rest, haven’t you. I left the water in the tub for you, if you want to bathe.” (We were getting into the routine of treating water sparingly.) “I’ll bathe,’ I said.

“Were you dreaming?” Gail asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered, “Why?”

“You were hard. The sheet was tented. I even touched you to see if it were my imagination.” Gail was smiling, very mischievously. “Now what could you have been dreaming about?”

“No idea… you know I never remember dreams. But, the last thing I did was sit with Vivian, and she was half naked, maybe that’s what triggered it?”

Gail turned away from the mirror and looked at me. “Why would she sit with you half naked?” she said, smiling with one corner of her mouth raising a little higher, and her eyes squinting in amusement. “Do you like her?” she asked.

“She’s nice, attractive I think,” I responded. After a moments pause I added, “Do you like Gregory?”

She looked at me, thinking, then answered, “Like him, yes… if you’re asking from a physical or sexual standpoint, no.”

Even though I started late, I was showered, shaved and dressed before Gail. I left her with her leg propped on the bathtub, rubbing cream in her leg, and wearing a light brown thong and painted toenails, nothing else.

I waited in the study watching CNN on television. When Gail walked in ten minutes later I starred in awe. She was wearing an off-white linen dress with simple spaghetti straps on her shoulders. It was cut straight across her chest and hung loosely, or better said, softly fitted. It tapered at her waist then flared ever so slightly. The dress was three quarter the way to her knees, her tanned legs narrowed at her ankles, and she was wearing between the toe sandals.