Month: November 2012

Beach Cousins

It wasn’t unusual for people to see my cousin and me together. We had spent hours together as kids and so as adults it was only natural for us to be comfortable with each other and want to spend time with each other. We had even taken a number of vacations together once we were both “single” again. This time it was to Europe and the wonderful beaches of France. We both loved swimming and water sports and the beaches in the South of France we wonderful.

Whenever Larry and I vacationed together we stayed in the same room to save a little cash and of course people mistook us for being married because we got along so well and were inseparable. We just played along whenever the mistake was made and had a good laugh about it later.

This particular day it was turn to pick the beach so I chose Cap d’Agde which I’d heard was a beautiful sandy beach along the coast. It was certainly beautiful as Larry and I could see, but what we didn’t expect is that it was also clothing optional. And as far as I could see most of the beach-goers had decided on the no swimsuit option.

Larry I could see was a little put off but that didn’t keep him from ogling the women on the beach who were either topless or completely nude. A touch of jealously went through me, I’m not sure why.


I was in the concessions line at Tampa Stadium when it happened. I’d sweetly volunteered to get the next round of beer for my boyfriend, so he could keep watching the half-time show. I knew he enjoyed watching the cheerleaders. I knew I had no reason to feel jealousy, as he would never cheat on me.

I’m sure every stadium concession stand is the same, especially at half time. The huge halls were jam-packed with people, you couldn’t even see your feet, there were so many people. I wore a mini, a full flouncy. Even the lightest breeze would whish up under it and tantalize my pussy. I loved the feeling and am always so hot in the stadium I’ve started dressing for comfort more than appearance. I wore a little tank top that matched and low-heeled sandals. All and all I was comfortable, and didn’t think I looked too bad.

A person is often jostled about in these lines, and more than once someone rubbed against my ass or my tits. I didn’t know if sometimes it was on purpose or not, and I didn’t really care. If the guy turned around and smiled an apology I always sent him a forgiving smile or pretended not to notice.

I’d been in line about ten minutes when I finally noticed the man behind me. I didn’t turn around to actually look at him, but I could feel his proximity against my back. He didn’t seem overly tall or intimidating, so I continued to ignore him and wait for my turn in line. When I felt a hand on my ass, I knew it was his. Should I turn around, I thought? But no, I don’t want a confrontation. Besides a part of me wondered what he planned. Did he think he could just touch me in plain view of all these people?

Sisters on the Subway

Sam had lived in Northern New York State his whole life. Right on the Canadian border. It was a forty- minute drive to Montreal from his front door. He had the best of both worlds he lived in a quiet rural farming community, but the big city was only minutes away.

Sam had met his friend Dan while in college. They had been roommates for four years, and got to be the best of friends. They partied hard while in school, and the three years since graduating had gotten together often. Sam going to Dan’s home- town of Poughkeepsie, from which they could either party there, or drive to Albany or New York City.

Dan had finally agreed to drive the four hours north to Sam’s house. Sam had a great weekend planned for them. Montreal was home to a lot of great strip clubs, and they were going to visit them all!

Dan drove up to Sam’s house immediately after work Friday night, and crashed at his place so they could get an early start in the morning. The drive form Sam’s house to the U.S./Canadian border was a short one, and the passage through the border itself simple. You drove your car up to a booth like any toll booth, and the border guards asked the car’s occupants their names, where they lived, asked them where they were going, and how long they would be staying…Standard questions. Two minutes and they were on their way.

The drive from the border took no time at all, and the rural landscape gradually gave way to a more metropolitan setting. The suburbs were typical of any large city. The Saint Lawrence River separated them from their destination. They crossed the Jacques Cartier Bridge, one of many that spanned the river, and drove a short way to a parking lot that Sam knew was well manned, and cheap. They would be taking Montreal subway system, the “Metro”, to get around the city. Sam claimed it was faster, and the “scenery” could be really good.