gooseflesh. Had he done it on purpose? Did he see, and did he know what effect he was having on her?
Obviously, by now.
He rubbed his thumb on her other earlobe, and Helena heard her breath escape her.
Helplessly, she closed her eyes. She knew she should do something, but as his hands moved around her ribs and inward on her chest, toward her nipples, she wanted him to touch her so badly that she was powerless to stop herself or him.
He cupped her breasts, and rubbed her nipples gently, as though he were still trying to sustain the illusion that he was clinically applying sunscreen. Helena felt herself lean backward and her back touched his hot skin. He moved his hands down the length of her body, and then he paused, making a big show of putting more sunscreen on his hands in front of her.
Helena tried to force herself to think about what she was doing, how plain in sight it was, how wrong...but she could only think of the white lotion on Reza's fingers, and how he was going to return to where he was last applying the lotion...down her torso, so close to the strings that held her only piece of clothing in place.
He rubbed the lotion along her sides, down to her hips, and under the strings of her bikini. She shuddered as he did, and she felt his breath on her neck as he slid his arms beneath the strings. He turned his hands inward, and his fingers stroked the super-sensitive skin of her inner thigh, down close to her ass, then back up. She felt her clit throb. She had never wanted anyone to touch her more than she wanted Reza to keep going, to keep digging beneath the fabric, and into her flesh, and then to push her onto her hands and knees and fill her up with his huge cock...
But suddenly, the sweet pleasure of his hands slid back up, out from under the bikini strings, and up her torso. “I think that should do it,” he said, in a low voice, and she felt him standing up.
Moments later, Zahra came trouncing out of the house, yelling in Iranian.
Jesus, thought Helena, as she unsteadily reclined in the lounge chair and pressed her knees together. What the fuck was she doing?
Zahra bitched by the cabana to Reza for a few minutes, and then came over to sit down by Helena.
“Darling,” she said, her voice like syrup. “I have to go into town and talk to these idiots at the bank. But you stay here if you want.”
Helena looked over at Reza, at his muscled back and his firm thighs, at the roundness of his ass in his shorts. A shudder went through her as she remembered the feel of his strong hands on her thighs.
“I...no, you know what, that's good, I should probably...go home sometime...” she said. She jumped up, wrapping a towel around her in a flustered desire to have some modesty. The whole spell of the crazy afternoon was wearing off as oxygen came back to her head. She threw her swimsuit cover on and slipped her feet into her flip flops.
Zahra looked at them in disapproval. “Tomorrow we'll get you new shoes,” she muttered. “Okay then. I will see you soon,” she said.
Helena waved at Reza as she left, and, as though nothing had transpired at all, he raised his hand to her. “See you!”
She drove much too fast at first, while she tried to fill her head with thoughts about her husband. How much she loved him. How she needed to put the brakes on all of this somehow.
But her thoughts turned, and she started to drive slower and slower, as she lost herself instead in the memory of Reza's touch, his staring at her body.
After all, it was just fantasy.
After all, she hadn't done anything yet.
After all, getting some sunscreen rubbed on you wasn't exactly adultery.
She drove right past her exit, and was miles down the highway before she realized what she had done.
6
Steve discovered on Friday that what he had optimistically agreed to after his delicious romp with his wife and her bare pussy was a party on Friday at the Tehrani's. And to stay over, so that everyone, as Helena put it, “could have
Obviously, by now.
He rubbed his thumb on her other earlobe, and Helena heard her breath escape her.
Helplessly, she closed her eyes. She knew she should do something, but as his hands moved around her ribs and inward on her chest, toward her nipples, she wanted him to touch her so badly that she was powerless to stop herself or him.
He cupped her breasts, and rubbed her nipples gently, as though he were still trying to sustain the illusion that he was clinically applying sunscreen. Helena felt herself lean backward and her back touched his hot skin. He moved his hands down the length of her body, and then he paused, making a big show of putting more sunscreen on his hands in front of her.
Helena tried to force herself to think about what she was doing, how plain in sight it was, how wrong...but she could only think of the white lotion on Reza's fingers, and how he was going to return to where he was last applying the lotion...down her torso, so close to the strings that held her only piece of clothing in place.
He rubbed the lotion along her sides, down to her hips, and under the strings of her bikini. She shuddered as he did, and she felt his breath on her neck as he slid his arms beneath the strings. He turned his hands inward, and his fingers stroked the super-sensitive skin of her inner thigh, down close to her ass, then back up. She felt her clit throb. She had never wanted anyone to touch her more than she wanted Reza to keep going, to keep digging beneath the fabric, and into her flesh, and then to push her onto her hands and knees and fill her up with his huge cock...
But suddenly, the sweet pleasure of his hands slid back up, out from under the bikini strings, and up her torso. “I think that should do it,” he said, in a low voice, and she felt him standing up.
Moments later, Zahra came trouncing out of the house, yelling in Iranian.
Jesus, thought Helena, as she unsteadily reclined in the lounge chair and pressed her knees together. What the fuck was she doing?
Zahra bitched by the cabana to Reza for a few minutes, and then came over to sit down by Helena.
“Darling,” she said, her voice like syrup. “I have to go into town and talk to these idiots at the bank. But you stay here if you want.”
Helena looked over at Reza, at his muscled back and his firm thighs, at the roundness of his ass in his shorts. A shudder went through her as she remembered the feel of his strong hands on her thighs.
“I...no, you know what, that's good, I should probably...go home sometime...” she said. She jumped up, wrapping a towel around her in a flustered desire to have some modesty. The whole spell of the crazy afternoon was wearing off as oxygen came back to her head. She threw her swimsuit cover on and slipped her feet into her flip flops.
Zahra looked at them in disapproval. “Tomorrow we'll get you new shoes,” she muttered. “Okay then. I will see you soon,” she said.
Helena waved at Reza as she left, and, as though nothing had transpired at all, he raised his hand to her. “See you!”
She drove much too fast at first, while she tried to fill her head with thoughts about her husband. How much she loved him. How she needed to put the brakes on all of this somehow.
But her thoughts turned, and she started to drive slower and slower, as she lost herself instead in the memory of Reza's touch, his staring at her body.
After all, it was just fantasy.
After all, she hadn't done anything yet.
After all, getting some sunscreen rubbed on you wasn't exactly adultery.
She drove right past her exit, and was miles down the highway before she realized what she had done.
6
Steve discovered on Friday that what he had optimistically agreed to after his delicious romp with his wife and her bare pussy was a party on Friday at the Tehrani's. And to stay over, so that everyone, as Helena put it, “could have
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