My experience of sex backfiring came from my time as a
nurse in the psychiatric ward in the hospital of Xxxx
Xxxxxxx. I’d been working in an institutional ward for
three years on a more or less permanent basis, earning
good extra money besides what the government allowed me
to finance my studies.

To get to the point, we had a female patient, we can call
her A for short, with an, as of yet, undefined hysterical
disorder. She would start screaming and throwing things
whether she was provoked or not and on this particular
day a man with pretty much the same diagnose, got in her
way.

He had recently lost both his testicles to cancer and was
depressed as well as in a particularly foul mood and
directed it towards all the women he thought he could no
longer please. A was the victim he’d sought out for
himself on this particular day. We all suddenly heard a
huge crash, yelling, more crashes and a holler of pain.

As we arrived on the scene A was bashing the poor man
with a plastic chair, yelling, “I AM NOT STUPID,” over
and over, the chair coming down on every syllable, while
he was on the floor writhing in obvious agony. It later
turned out that she’d kicked him in, well, I can’t say
nuts, can I. She’d given him a fairly good kick in the
cock and getting a toe in, actually managed to rupture
his glans with a perfect hit.

He was carted off to the ER and I was assigned to try and
calm A down. We went to her room and she said she wanted
to change. I thought she meant a shirt or pants, but no.
She stripped down completely and took her good time
rummaging through her closet before “finding” the ugly,
blue hospital robe that was one of only three garments
inside.

She turned her head and smiled a shy smile at me several
times and I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. She’d
gone from total hysteria to a little girl in a second
flat and was now not only showing her nakedness, she was
flaunting it. Her body was to die for. She was twenty-
five with a few extra pounds in just the right places. A
pronounced mound, two of the firmest C-cup breasts I’ve
ever seen. Rounded buttocks with a few stretch marks,
broad, firm thighs and a big bush between her legs.

She finally draped the robe over her naked body and I
came out of my daze very quickly, wondering where the
hell I’d been. A suggested we go to the smaller of the
day rooms where we usually have our therapy sessions. We
went into the room locked the door, as is customary when
in session.

We chatted mostly and A was sitting in a lounge chair,
facing the window with her back to one arm rest and her
legs over the other. After about 15 minutes she closed
her eyes and started panting with her mouth open I looked
at her and she’s was sitting absolutely still with her
hands motionless in her lap. I slapped myself for having
a dirty mind and asked if she was feeling well. Her face
suddenly contorted and she started breathing so hard
saliva was spraying between her clenched teeth.

I thought she was having a fit of some sort and rushed up
to get help. As I ran past her chair to press the alarm
button she grabbed my sleeve and nearly pulled me off my
feet. I had to grab her shoulders not to fall across her.
With my hands still on her shoulders, she rose to her
feet and stood in front of me.

She had a silly look on her face and said the two words I
least expected to hear from her, “I came!” She put her
arms around my neck and we just stood like that for at
least five minutes. Hugging is natural part of many
therapies, but rarely coupled with orgasmic afterglow. I
did not reciprocate at first, but put my hands on her
sides, a bit bewildered and very uncertain as how to deal
with a patient who had spontaneous orgasms when in
session.

I noticed my body responding to all this. This tingling
feeling of something forbidden, but still allowed within
my grasp, was making itself known at the nape of my neck,
moving down my spine and settling in my crotch. As we
stood there A moved back a bit and looked into my eyes
and I tried to act as casual and professional as I could.
I must have failed miserably somewhere, because A took my
hands and placed them on her breasts! And there they
stayed.

My hands were riveted to her breasts and my professional
resolve snapped, almost audibly, like a twig under foot.
We just stood like that until she started to move her
hands over mine, squeezing my hands squeezing her
breasts, tickling my palms with her nipples. It was a
moment so erotic that it compared to nothing, absolutely
nothing, that I’ve experienced before or after. Suddenly
she raised her right leg and rested it on my hip, raised
her frock a few inches and took my right hand and placed
it on her naked sex.

I remember resisting a bit, trying to withdraw but she
had my wrist in a firm grip and kept it there. I couldn’t
move any more. She looked me in the eyes – Feel how wet I
am, she whisper. I felt the heat radiate from her pussy
but still didn’t move. There was something slippery down
there and I could feel the outline of her labia pressing
on my fingers.

“You’re not feeling me properly,” she said and once again
my hand was covered by hers as she pressed it inwards,
curving her fingers and thus forcing two of mine into her
vagina. The word wet in this particular case would have
been a gross understatement.

As she slowly moved my hand back and forth there was this
sound that reminded me of squeezing a soaked sponge and
my hand was covered in warm liquid. She removed her hand
and mine stayed and moved by it’s own accord. She brought
her hand to her nose and sniffed it and then put it under
mine. It was as intoxicating as anything I’ve ever
smelled.

I grabbed her by the wrist and licked her fingers, still
looking into her eyes as she closed them and bit her
lower lip. She leant forward and we kissed for the first
time. She tried to feel my pussy as well and tried to
unclasp my belt. I didn’t want to get caught with my
pants down, so I said, “No,” and opened my fly instead. I
always wear lose fitting clothes, both for mobility and
to hide my girth and for her to get her hand down my
pants was no problem.

We stood like that; frantically rubbing each other
feeling each other’s soaked cunts, delving as deeply as
we could into one another’s mouths and vaginas. We were
both on the verge of climaxing when we were interrupted
by sounds outside the door. People were coming into the
workshop outside the room. We quickly adjusted our
clothes and opened the window since the air was so thick
with the smell of pussy you could cut it with a knife,
closed it again, and walked out. The only place left for
us was her room, which couldn’t be locked.

Had she been allowed outside that day we would have made
it to the basement where there’s hundreds of places we
could have used, but that was not to be. So we opted not
to continue at this time. I excused myself and went to
the loo and frigged myself to an earth shattering orgasm
within a few flicks. Once finished I went to A’s room and
found her on her bed.

-Did you…?

“Yes,” I said.

“So did I.”

She pulled her frock up to show me what a freshly
fingerfucked pussy looked like and it was a sight to
behold! I was drooling, well my cunt was, despite of
having been taken care of two minutes earlier. She had
large, pink inner lips that stuck out and were VERY long.
They ran from her asshole, halfway to her navel and at
the bottom I could see something inside her hole. I asked
her and she reached down and pulled out a small bottle of
roll-on deodorant. I’m sure you know the type, very
phallic in shape.

Glistening strings formed and broke as she slowly pulled
it out, sucked on it and then put it back in.

“You try it,” she said.

With trembling fingers I tried to grab the slippery
bottle between my fingers, finally managed, pulled it
out, sucked on it and put it back in again. I bent down
to steal a few licks. She looked down at me and gasped
aloud. She pulled the bottle out once more, licked it
clean and put on the dresser beside the bed. I once again
bent down and stuck my tongue as far up her as it would
go.

She sat up and kissed me once again and we shared her
juices. She grabbed my hands and smelled them,
complaining that all she could smell was soap. So, I
opened my fly, shoved three finger into my cunt and
brought them out webbed and put them in her mouth. She
sucked them like a baby calf, laid down and spread her
legs wide, took my hand and placed it on her pussy. I
shoved three fingers up her soaking quim and started
fucking her as fast as I could. She didn’t last long and
came silently but violently shaking.

I never thought to get my fingers out of her mouth until
I felt her teeth cut deeply into my flesh, deep enough to
draw blood. Lots of blood. I hollered with pain and
moments later I heard approaching footsteps in the
corridor. When the door opened I was holding my hand in
my armpit, swearing like a sailor. A was on the bed, her
frock down again and watching me in horror.

I told them I’d got my fingers caught trying to adjust
her bed to a sitting position. They all felt very sorry
for me and sent me off to ER without looking at my hand,
thank God. In the ER I changed my story as I figured the
bite marks would be a dead giveaway, so I just said one
of the patients got violent and bit me and hoped none
would be the wiser. I got away with a tetanus shot and a
bandaged hand.

I took the rest of the day off with pay after writing the
accident report. Those beds really are notoriously
dangerous and people have had their fingers cut clean off
by them, so no one questioned my explanation of events. I
was home for two weeks, still with pay, while the routine
Hepatitis C and HIV-tests were being done.

One morning a few days later, I got a call. It was A. I
asked her how she got my number.

-From the directory, she answered. Figures, I thought.
She knew my full name and I was listed as opposed to most
of my colleagues. Working in psychiatry makes you
vulnerable to attacks from patients with or without just
cause to harm you. I’ve had my ribs kicked in three times
and broken one patient’s arm myself. All in the line of
duty, of course. But I digress, methinks.

A called to ask me about my hand and to tell me that
she’d been transferred to outpatient status and wondered
if we could meet. I was hesitant, to say the least, but
she was persistent and we made an appointment for
Saturday.

Chapter Two

The before mentioned events took place on a Tuesday, if
memory serves me right and A called me on the Friday. In
other words I had a whole two days of nail biting
anxiety, not knowing whether I had been ratted out or
not. As I said, we agreed to meet in her apartment a few
miles uptown. It was a collection of high-rises, nine
stories high (I know it’s not much compared to American
standards), called “The Million Project” from the sixties
when the Swedish population boomed and our socialist
government promised to build a million cheap apartments
to house us all.

Swedes were celebrating the freedom of mind and sex and
generally boffing away, much earlier than the rest the
world. Hence the expression “The Swedish Sin”. The only
competition came from the Germans and Danes, whose
decadence flourishes even today.

A lived on the ninth floor and when she opened the door,
she was dressed in a sort of terry-cloth mah-jongg
overall. She was as nervous as I was and nervousness
usually comes into play only when feeling are involved.
She closed the door and we just stood there looking at
each other. Then we hugged and shared a long kiss that
had us both gasping and wanting more.

We covered each other’s faces with saliva as we licked,
kissed and explored each other’s mouths. We finally broke
the kiss and she showed me around the apartment. Two
rooms and a nice kitchen. Her bedroom was decorated in
the romantic style you sometimes find in teenagers rooms
with lots of pink and orange. The only difference between
her room and lets say, my youngest sisters, were the six
dildos of various shapes, sizes and colours standing to
attention on her bedside table. She giggled shyly as she
saw my eyes widen.

I walked across the room and sat down on her bed,
touching each of them in turn. Two were with vibration
the other four were of a nice, jelly-like material and
ranged from about six to 20 inches. I weighed a fifteen-
inch cock in my hand and asked her if she could get that
inside her and she nodded. It was about three inches
thick and I had my doubts about it. The 20-incher was a
double. Ten inches on each side of a rudimentary scrotum
that could be filled with warm water and squeezed at the
height of your pleasure to simulate some sort of
simultaneous orgasm, she explained. Absolutely
ridiculous, if you ask me.

Next she showed me the kitchen and told me dinner was on
in 15 minutes. She served a plaice au gratin that was a
bit overdone and under salted, with broccoli, mushrooms
and rice. It was a nice meal and the white wine that went
with it loosened any inhibitions we might have had.

After the meal we settled in her living room, chatting
about this and that and that she was feeling much, much
better now, that she’d cut down on her medication after
being advised by her psychiatrist and that she hadn’t met
anyone like me ever and that she so liked me and wanted
me and adored my body and she’d like to see it sometime.
“Why not now?” I asked.

She said nothing, just leaned forward, kissed me deeply
for the second time and left. I asked her where she was
going and she answered with only one whispered word:
“Surprise.”

She closed the door and I was left alone with my
anticipations of things to come. I played with my nipples
for a while and ventured briefly under my skirt. I wasn’t
wearing any underwear or a bra, since I figured I
wouldn’t need them. Idle thoughts were forming about A,
that maybe I was mistaken, as I slowly stroked my larger
lips.

I was soon very, very wet and had one, two and finally
three fingers sliding in and out of me, all hesitation
gone. I was stopped in my tracks as I heard loud clanging
sounds followed by more silence. My skirt had a large wet
spot on the back and my juices had soaked through to the
sofa beneath. The light grey cloth now had a dark grey
stain. I was mortified and covered it up with a pillow,
which looked ridiculous, as it lay prone on the edge of
the cushion.

A knocked on the door after about 20 minutes, startling
me to my feet. The door slowly opened and in came A,
stark naked and with her hair in a ponytail. I just
stared at her with my mouth open and I could feel my
pussy spasm in time with my accelerating breath. I could
also feel those spasms pressing liquid out of my vagina;
liquid that ran down my thigh, down my calves and heels
and into my sandals. She walked up to me without a word
and started to undress me as well.

“Not much work here,” she said, as I stood naked before
her with only a blouse and my skirt at my feet. My state
of arousal became obvious to her as I stepped out of my
sandals. She knelt before me and had herself a good look
at my cunt. She slowly wiped some of the juices off my
right leg with her finger and brought it to her mouth.
“That’s the second time I taste you pussy,” she said.
“But I like it best from the source!”

And with that she stuck out her tongue and in between my
cunt lips and I spread my legs as best I could in that
awkward position. She found my clit and sucked on it for
a while until my legs began to tremble then she suddenly
stopped just as I was about to climax. -Not yet she
whispered into my cunt and pulled away. There were
several transparent strings connecting us and slowly
breaking, dangling from her chin and my cunt and slowly
falling to the floor. I tried to get her to continue,
saying that I could have as many orgasms as I or she
wanted, but she was adamant.

“The water’s getting cold,” she said, then stood and led
me by the hand to the bathroom. As she opened the door I
saw that she’d gone out of her way to impress me. Around
fifty candles were standing on and around a bubble bath.
Steam fogged up my glasses and I took them off. A told me
to get in and I did, careful not to get the bandages wet,
relishing the feel of the hot water, the tickling feeling
of millions of bubbles bursting on my skin and savouring
the air filled with the fragrance of scented oils. I felt
like an oriental queen.

A came next and she was a sight to behold in the light of
the candles, as she ever so slowly descended into the
water, straddling my legs, with her beautiful tush
between my feet and it became very apparent that she’d
been overly generous with the water.

The bathroom was flooded before either of us thought to
pull the plug. She scooted closer and put her arms around
my neck and kissed me for the third time. This kiss
lasted longer than the other two and by the time it ended
we were both fingering the other deeply and frantically.
She was no less wet than I was and came long before I
did. In fact she stopped when her orgasm hit and didn’t
resume her caresses. I started fingering myself and she
just pulled my hand away. She needed both her hands to
keep it from going back and I cursed my bad fortune of
having my other hand wrapped.

“Not yet,” she said.

“But I really, really, really need to cum right now!”

“No you don’t,” she said with a sly smile. I was a
borderline frantic at this point.

She started talking about Tuesday’s events and asked me
if I remembered her first orgasm when we were in session?

“Sure,” I said, sulking. She told me that she could cum
just by contracting and relaxing her vaginal muscles, a
talent that she said had served her well on many a boring
occasion.

“Yeah, rub it in,” I griped. She didn’t even need to use
her hands and here I was, being denied the use of my own.

“Soon,” she said, “soon.”

I just lay back, trying hard to think of something else
besides my poor neglected cunt and of course failing
miserably. At this point A started washing me with a
cloth, rubbing my whole body from head to toe, not
missing a single spot. The cloth felt almost painful on
my agitated cunt and I jumped every time she brushed over
my lips and clit, which now stuck out like a small cock.

“I’m going to enjoy sucking on that,” she said, pulling
the hood back and forth like she was jacking me off.

“Please feel free,” I said, my voice trailing away. I was
about to explode and my pelvis was a blur against her
fingers and the water was spilling over the sides and
suddenly it happened: An orgasm out of nowhere, without
warning, hit me like a ton of bricks and sent me
screaming under the water while I kicked A in the chest.
I came up, coughing and still screaming, grabbing her by
the wrist, trying to force something inside me. She
straightened her fingers and in the next moment there
were four in my cunt.

I fucked myself through the throes of one of the best
orgasms of my life, using her hand as a dildo. As I came
down, A was looking at me with a quizzical expression.
“Well, I should have expected that and left you alone, I
guess,” she said, rubbing her left tit where my foot had
left its mark. I chided her in turn about what happens
when you play with fire.

We got out of the tub and A got the mop and started on
the floor while I dried both her and myself. Once
finished, we went to the bedroom and watched the steam
rise off our bodies. I was propped up on one elbow
trailing my fingers along her body, feeling the rounded
curves of her breasts, belly, cheeks, and mound,
entwining them in her pubes.

-Would you like to shave me, she asked.

“I’ve never done it and I would never trust anyone but
you to do it.” So I put her on one of the kitchen chairs,
got her razor, scissors and some gel. Ten minutes later
her cunt was as bare as the day she was born and I put
some aloe on it, taking my good time rubbing it in very
carefully. I kept rubbing long after the cream was
replaced by her juices and her breathing was getting
ragged.

I parted her lips to “see if I’d missed any hairs”, as I
said, and trailed my finger along her crack. Those lips
seemed even longer than before and almost purple, with
all the hair gone. I put my finger at the entrance and
very slowly inserted it to the last knuckle, savouring
the texture and the rippling of her muscles as it went
in.

“You won’t find any hairs in there you know,” she said in
voice that broke into a hoarse whisper.

“I know,” I said and pulled it out again, replacing it
with my tongue. God, how I had longed for this! She
smelled of flowers and shaving gel and aloe cream, but
the taste was all cunt. I fucked my tongue in and out,
trying to scoop up as much juices as possible and there
was lots of it and more coming. A reached down softly
pulling on my ears to make me lick her clit.

I resisted and kept fucking her some more with my tongue.
“Please,” she said pulling harder on my ears.

“Soon,” I said, “soon,” looking up at her with my most
devilish grin.

“Bitch,” she cried, pressing my face harder to her pussy,
trying to rub my nose on her clit. I was enjoying this
immensely, but had to stop due to lack of oxygen. I have
often wondered why we don’t breathe through our ears. It
would be so much more convenient, and more so in the
situation I was in. I got off my sore knees and stood up,
pulling A off the chair and we walked back into the
bedroom.

I got on my back and A straddled my pelvis, adjusting her
self until we were clit to clit. She then started rocking
back and forth in a steady rhythm, mashing our clits
together. Hers was almost as prominent as mine and once
engorged, the feeling was very real and VERY good. I
started to rock with her, which caused her to lose pace.
She put her hands on my chest, leaning forward a little
and quickened her pace, making high-pitched noises.

A squelching sound from our crotches, revealed our mutual
excitement. There was so much liquid down there, she had
trouble staying in the right position and not sliding all
over the place. I felt my orgasm rising as well; we were
looking into each other’s eyes chasing the pleasure that
was only seconds away. A was drooling a bit, lost to this
world and suddenly her face contorted into a hideous
grimace and she fell forward, shaking, but continued her
fucking motions until I came about five seconds behind
her.

We were utterly spent and fell asleep with her still on
top of me. Two hours later, we woke and more or less had
to pry our crotches apart. We started making out and were
soon in familiar tracks again. I turned around to get her
in a sixty nine and we were soon both happily munching
away, taking turns cumming until we were both exhausted
and slept through the rest of the night. The dildos never
came into play, so to speak. Not until the next morning.

Chapter Three

We woke up at about 11am the next day. I woke up; turned
around and faced the sleeping A. Sunrays were tracing the
covers, nearing the point where they would caress A’s
eyelids. They fluttered briefly before she opened her
eyes, looked into mine and smiled a “good morning”. I
rolled on top of her, wedging my hips between her legs,
feeling the stickiness from the previous night. I kissed
her chin, her forehead, her cheeks and finally her mouth,
tasting my own stale secretions on her lips.

I considered venturing further down, but decided against
it. My pussy was raw and needed to cool down. A naturally
had a different mindset. She put both her hands on my
head and pressed downwards until I was facing her
breasts. I licked her nipples a little, not wanting to
get her too aroused. I simply wasn’t up to more sex at
the moment, but I also was never one to say no,
regardless of the circumstances. She kept pressing down
and I followed, soon facing her cunt that already showed
signs of stubble. I figured it had been nearly 12 hours
since I shaved her.

My hopes of not arousing her were crushed as she spread
her legs to accommodate my shoulders. The cover were
thing and there was enough light down there to glisten
off her incredibly wet pussy. The mixed smell of old and
new secretions was more than I could bare and my resolve
went out the window as I buried my face in her honey pot.
She yelled out as I shoved my tongue as deep as I could
and from the metallic taste of her pussy walls, I gather
she was no less raw than myself.

I sucked and licked her until I thought I could taste
blood and A was somewhere between heaven and hell. From
under the covers I reached out blindly to where I thought
her bedside table was and finally managed to get my hands
on one of the dildos and to my delight it was the 15-
incher. I managed to sneak under the covers, nudge it
under my chest until the tip was only an inch from her
hole.

I proceeded to just sucking very lightly on her clit,
hearing relieved moans from A. I reached between my tits,
and with and firm shove, I planted the dildo to the hilt
in her cunt, turning it on at the same time. A went
through the roof screaming with pain, pulled the covers
off and stuttering asked what the hell I did to her. When
she looked down, she saw the weapon I’d used to skewer
her on and calmed down a bit.

“You could have warned me,” she said.

“But I wanted to surprise you,” I said, pouting my lips
in mock disappointment. “Wasn’t it a nice surprise?” I
asked.

A told me to leave it in and just tongue her clit and
feeling a bit guilty I did what she told me. It took her
nearly twenty minutes to come, by which time my tongue
was completely numb. When she finally did come, the dildo
almost shot out of her as her pussy contracted and her
fluids came spurting around it. She demonstratively
licked it clean, looking into my eyes with a curious look
on her face and putting it back on the table when she was
done. I got out and hit the shower.

We had a nice, full breakfast on her balcony and started
talking about the day ahead. I asked her if she would
like to take her bike and go swimming in the ocean with
me. She said she hadn’t been there for ages and was more
than happy to go. We packed a nice lunch, a thermos of
coffee, a large blanket and her swimsuit, a very nice,
black, strapless one piece.

We went by my apartment and got my bikini and A got a
chance to see how I lived and commented on my queen size
bed and ranted on about all the things we could do in it.
We biked the seven miles to the beach and every foot of
them was agony for both of us. The saddles were murder on
our sore cunts and sweating like pigs certainly didn’t
help.

We got there finally only to discover that we could
hardly walk. It was about 3pm when we found a nice spot
on the beach not too close and not too far away from the
dozens of people already there. We changed quickly and
dared each other to run into the water. The contest ended
with both of us going in, one toe at the time. It
couldn’t have been more than 18 degrees C. The sign said
21 degrees was obviously lying through its nails. As soon
as we were crotch deep, we both let out a big sigh of
relief as the cool, brackish water bathed our burning
crotches.

We ventured out to deeper water and were soon chest deep
in the middle of a patch of kelp, where A panicked,
claiming to have felt something slithering around her
leg, threw herself round my body with her legs around her
waist, screaming for me to carry her away from the kelp.
I walked a few feet to where the bottom was all sand and
tried to set her down. I told her it was all right to let
go and would she please release the vice-like grip on my
thighs. She eased her grip a little, but didn’t stand I
looked into her eyes and saw the pure lust that was
burning there.

She reached between our bodies and then behind her and
said, “Feel me.”

I reached between us went lower and put my hand between
her legs. The contrast to the cold water was marvellous
and I went deeper between her legs. I bent my fingers
and. met not resistance! She was so wet I could
immediately slide three fingers all the way up inside
her.

After walking a hundred yards through water, all traces
of cunt juice should have been rinsed away. She leaned
into me and pressed her lips against mine, searching for
my tongue with her own. I kissed her back all the while
sliding my fingers in and out and trying to rub my thumb
on her clit. She moaned into my mouth and started moving
her hips against my hand. I took her hand and placed on
my mound seeing if she would take the cue.

I hadn’t come all day and all the tension that built up
since the morning was taking its toll on my patience. I
pressed her hand between my thighs and trapped it there
and finally she began moving her fingers and moved her
hand up to get down under the waistband. It didn’t take
long before we were finger fucking each other, totally
oblivious to where we were or the people around us.
Sobbing sounds were coming from A and I could tell she
was only seconds away. I pressed my lips to hers in a
futile attempt to trap any sounds that would give us
away, but only managed to speed the arrival my own
climax.

Our orgasms hit at exactly the same time and were totally
mind-blowing. Leaving us heaving, resting our chins on
each other’s shoulders. When I finally opened my eyes,
and another pair, shining brightly and glazed over with
lust met mine. The trouble was it wasn’t A’s eyes. I
still had my fingers in her and she still had hers in me
and we were idly moving inside each other glowing in the
aftermath. Standing about three feet away in front of me
was a woman in her late forties or early fifties, I
figured.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was aware of what
was going on and I had absolutely no idea of how long
she’d been standing there. While we were staring at each
other she never blinked and by the slight movement of her
shoulders I figured she was masturbating herself,
watching us. After a while she closed her eyes and
started hissing through her teeth and now A heard her and
spun around.

She was about to say something when I silenced her with a
kiss, so not to disturb the lady providing her part of
the all around performance. Her mouth suddenly opened,
forming the silent “O” I knew all to well. She threw her
head back and had a silent but seemingly very good
climax. I pushed A off me and reached out to the woman
who nearly went under the surface, got hold of her arm
and she put her arms around both of our shoulders kissing
us both in turn saying thank you, lord knows how many
times, until it all got a bit embarrassing. Only then
were the introductions made.

A recovered from her initial shock and we all stood there
with arms around each other’s shoulders, talking about
what had happened. She had heard A’s scream and had
wanted to help in case she was injured. It turned out she
was a nurse too.

She never reached us before it became obvious we were
making out. She’d been about 20 yards away when A and I
really got into it and there was no doubt as to what we
were doing. She said it was the hottest, naughtiest most
exciting thing shed ever witnessed and she had inched her
way towards us, fingering herself all the way, until she
was just a few feet away and decided, for better or for
worse, to get on the cum train and enjoy the ride along
with us.

She was 46 and widowed since two years back. She and her
husband had been swingers for their whole marriage and
they had both been AC/DC in all respects. Her husband had
enjoyed a cock in his mouth as much as she enjoyed a cunt
in her face. The proposal came next. She wanted to take A
and me to a restaurant after our swim and then have us
join her in her apartment in Y-town.

I was instantly game, but felt A tug on my shoulder strap
pulling me away. We stood aside and A whispered that she
wasn’t prepared to share me just yet and asked me if we
could wait just a little longer and really get to know
each other. I agreed and tried my best to conceal my
disappointment. We swam and walked back to the beach and
the woman motioned to me to follow her while A was busy
towelling and changing.

As we got to her car she put her hand on my hip and told
me she would really like to see us again. She got a piece
of paper and a pen from her purse and jotted down her
name, number and address. Her name was Valeria, like the
Amazon warrior from Conan the Barbarian. Not that there
was anything warrior like about this rather lithe body
and narrow shoulders, but she proved very apt at “tongue-
fencing” as she kissed me good-bye and drove off.

I went back to A. We still had several hours of daylight
and decided on catching some rays before going back. I
was on my stomach and A was on her back, when I suddenly
felt her hand digging it’s way between the blanket and my
body until it was resting on my mound. She moved closer
until we were arm at arm and I turned my head towards
her. She scratched me with her fingernails as she tried
to push under my waistband and I lifted my hips slightly
to avoid injury.

A second later her middle finger entered me, catching the
moisture already building up inside me, then taking the
first hesitant steps in a tap dance on my clit. The
persons nearest to us were about six feet away, an
elderly couple. On the other side were a family of four,
parents and two boys, to our south were four youngsters
playing beach-volley ball. The crowd surrounding us made
for a very interesting situation, a Russian roulette of
sorts. One chance in ten being of discovered.

I tried my damnedest not to make a sound or move, but as
A’s finger got more and more insistent, my hips began to
move of their own accord despite my efforts to the
contrary. A put the towel over me to shield me from view,
which probably sealed my fate since a moving towel is
bound to arouse more suspicion than a moving bottom. The
first sign of suspicion was the couple suddenly intently
looking our way. The game to our south had stopped and
the family was moving their garden umbrella to shield
them selves and the kids from the live show.

A must have been aware of all this, but she wouldn’t let
up and I couldn’t make her stop without arousing even
more suspicion. I’m not proud of what I did next, nor has
it happened either before or after. I faked it. I faked
it by letting out a little moan and squeezing her finger
with my pussy and clamping down with my thighs. A looked
very happy and gave me a mischievous smile and I smiled
back and mouthed a, “Thank you.” She reached further
under my mound and squeezed it harder than was
comfortable.

I couldn’t help but yelp and thus providing further
evidence that something untoward was happening. There was
now no doubt among the spectators as to what was going
on. I was mortified. I also had a twat full of sand from
the journey A’s hand made before reaching it’s goal and
it stung like crazy. I didn’t care, couldn’t care, I just
wanted to get away from ten pairs of probing eyes, well
eight pairs anyway, two were a bit too young to get the
whole picture. I put my clothes on over my bikini, put my
sandals on and straddled my bike. And screamed. Between
my already sore cunt, the drying saltwater and the sand
in my slit, I was in hell.

The trip home was like running a seven mile gauntlet I
cried all the way home speeding to get away from the pain
as quick as possible, leaving A far behind. I was in the
shower, washing my burning cunt in cold, fresh water,
when the doorbell rang. I opened and A was outside also
crying. I hadn’t said a word as I rushed off and A though
I was mad at her and that she had done something wrong. I
didn’t tell her that in fact she had. Who was I to judge
her?

We held each other and I let my towel fall to the floor
and I kissed her for the longest time her hands began to
wander about my wet body, but I stopped her before she
reached my crotch. I got a piece of tissue and pressed it
to my crotch. When I showed it to her it had a few small
bloodstains.

“Did I do that?” She asked with tearful eyes.

“Yes you did,” I said with my warmest smile. “And never
was pain acquired in a more pleasurable way,” I added.

Pleasure and pain, pain and pleasure, one can’t have one
without the other. A and I had four beautiful months,
before the day she let my name slip to her counsellor.
The second the investigation into our relationship was
launched; she broke down mentally as well as physically.
I could never see her again, without facing criminal
charges, and her therapist broke through all her
defenses, finally convincing her that what had happened
was a very bad thing and that I had used her in the worst
ways possible.

A told everyone she’d initiated the whole thing, but was
only told that I should have known better, which I guess
I should have. But love knows no boundaries and I truly
loved A. The therapists killed her as surely as if they
had forced the barbiturates down her throat themselves.

There are still lots of beautiful memories, but I will
stop now, just short of our first twenty-four hours. I
would like to think that I honour her memory by sharing
these intimate moments with like-minded people. I know A
won’t mind as she took her own life in -98, two years
after we met for the first time. She was a world-class
sex kitten and I miss her.