Chapter 7

After my nighttime beach fuck with Marc Post, I considered my summer officially started. Even though I had witnessed Gus and Mimi fucking, it wasn't until I had actually gotten laid that I could sever myself from the city and initiate the beginning of my first sexual vacation.

Gus Wells was my next target, and my cunt throbbed with anticipation each time I thought of fucking him. The fact that he was so attractive was only a small part of my expectation. My main reason for excitement was his age; I'd never screwed an older man. Before I could consider myself really liberated from my youth, I had to be fucked by an older man. I'm sure that every girl must go through this desire; it's like an initiation into womanhood.

The more I thought about it, the more important it seemed. Sex with an older man gave fucking a weight and importance that was missing when I screwed someone my own age. To someone like Stu from back home, and even with Marc Post, although he was older, all sexual experience was new and exciting. All that mattered to guys my own age was the act of fucking itself; if he could fuck anyone, the act was successful. His cock didn't discriminate and his experiences couldn't.

But with Gus, it was something else. Gus was a man -- a man to whom sex was not something new. Gus had been fucking for years, and he'd probable fucked more women than either Stu or Marc knew. Gus knew the difference between a good lay and an average one, something that would be lost on Stu or Marc.

So it seemed logical that if I chose Gus as my next conquest, his reaction to the way I made love would tell me just how good I really was. If he found my body exciting, knowing that he could have Mimi any night he wanted her, any way he wanted her, that would be a plus for me. If I could take him away from her, and my cunt could exhaust Gus' cock -- the same cock I had watched him push in and out of Mimi's cunt -- then I'd known that I'd grown up. After I'd fucked Gus, I'd known that I was at last a woman.

With this in mind, I began to work on Gus.

I began by coming to breakfast in the mornings without wearing my bra. My tits are big and firm, and the material of my blouse and sweaters pull tightly across the front of my chest without the covering protection of a bra. When I'm aroused, my nipples get hard, and they poke through the thin fabric and are vividly noticeable. So to make sure that I was sufficiently aroused for this to happen, I finger-fucked myself for a few seconds before I left my room. My tits would get hard and I'd squeeze them a couple of times, pinching the nipples erect with my fingernails. Then I'd slip my top on, pinch the nipples again through the material, and come out for breakfast, hoping Gus would see them.

The first few times he didn't or if he did, he didn't let me know. So I tried to be obvious. I stood in front of him, bent forward, and almost pushed my tits in his face. Once I sat across from him, and when he was looking at me, I bent forward and leaned my tit on the table. The sight of the swollen orb drooping heavily over through the thin material caught Gus' eye, and I felt my cunt begin to quiver when I saw him staring at it.

This success prodded me to take other more obvious steps. Since I wasn't wearing a bra, I reasoned why not let him actually see my naked tits?

I'd come in wearing a scooped-neck tank top and accidentally drop something in front of him. Then I'd have to bend down and retrieve the object. The front of my blouse would fall away from my chest, and my jugs, with their stiff, pink-tipped nipples, would be exposed to his view.

The first time that I exposed myself to him, I thought I was going to come in my pants, I was so excited. Did I actually enjoy letting Gus see my nakedness? Was I an exhibitionist? I didn't really care. All I knew was that it excited me to let Gus see me. Knowing he was watching made me feel erotic and sexually excited. If that was being an exhibitionist, then I enjoyed being one.

I looked up after I had bent down, and I caught Gus looking down my blouse. His eyes were open widely, and just the faintest blush of excitement colored his cheeks. He turned quickly away and pretended he wasn't looking.

After that, I looked for reasons to bend over and give Gus a free show. I was afraid of overdoing it because Mimi began to give me curious glances. I think she was aware of what I was doing; women are usually more sensitive to things like that than men are, and I had to curtail my clumsiness at dropping things.

I was gratified to find that Gus was picking up where I left off. He would stand behind me, and I could almost feel the sweep of his eyes across the pale pink hills of my tits. Without arousing Mimi's suspicion, I tried to give Gus as much of a look as I could.

I began to employ other techniques, and I let my warm thigh bump into Gus' each time we sat next to each other; our knees rubbed back and forth when he sat across from me. The first few times I tried this, Gus pulled back as though the contact had been an accidental one. But when I continued to apply pressure, my cunt grew wet to feel him pressing back against me. Now, whenever we sat down, covered by the protection of the table, Gus' knee or thigh automatically fell into place against me, and we rubbed erotically up and down against each other. It was our own private game, and we played it silently but very seriously. When I began to masturbate to get myself aroused so that my tits showed through my blouse, another sexual idea suddenly came to me. Once I masturbated by putting my hand down into my pants, pressing my fingers tightly against my cunt. When I pulled my hand away from my body, I could still smell the sweaty aroma of my cunt clinging to my fingers.

I ran the wet fingers back and forth under my nose for a few seconds, then pulled my shorts down and rubbed my whole hand between my legs. I opened the lips of my cunt and ran my fingers through the wet slit, rubbing the tip of my clitoris to awaken more of a discharge in my cunt. After a few more seconds of this, I slid my fingers, two at a time, in and out between the lips of my cunt, bathing my hand in the wetness of my pussy.

When I pulled my hand out, it was still wet. I held it under my nose. It reeked of cunt.

I quickly pulled my shorts back on and went into the kitchen, desperately trying to think of a way in which I could allow Gus to smell the perfume on my fingers.

Gus provided the opportunity. "Hand me my cigarettes," he asked once I sat down.

My fingers trembled as I picked up the package of cigarettes. I carefully pulled a cigarette from the pack and reached across the table and placed the white cylinder between his lips.

"Let me light it for you," I said, aware of the quavering in my voice. I ran my still-wet fingers up and down under his nose, lingering there longer than normal, rubbing against his nostrils so that he couldn't avoid my intention.

The moment my fingers went under his nose, I watched his nostrils flare, and I almost heard the intake of breath as he inhaled the smell. His eyes narrowed, and Gus looked directly at me, breathing deeply.

"Thank you, Tootsie," Gus said cryptically. He sniffed up the smell.

"It's my pleasure," I answered.

I tried this method twice more: once by pretending to rub Gus' nose because his sunburn was peeling, and once when I rubbed under his nose and asked whether he was growing a mustache. Both times I felt the cool tickle of him inhaling the raunchy smell of my cunt; both times he gave me that same strange, piercing look with his eyes. He was aware, unquestionably, of my intention.

How far would I go, though? I could almost read the question in his eyes.

My goal was to let him know. I pressed on.