A Bikini with a Mind of its Own

It was a perfect day for going to the beach. It was warm, already, at 11 a.m., but not hot. No clouds threatened to obscure the sun, which perched high in the late morning sky and cast enough warmth to render all but the skimpiest clothing optional.

Erin walked away from the parking lot onto the beach, and then turned right. She had an idea where she wanted to go. The beach widened in that direction, and a large expanse of sand lay between the ocean and low, rocky bluffs.

The beach was neither crowded nor empty. Beachgoers lay or sat individually or in small clusters on the sand. Only a few people were swimming or standing in the water, which was still a bit chilly this early in the summer. The waves were modest and the ocean sparkled under the late morning sun.

As she walked along, Erin couldn't help but feel foolish. She had come to the beach to wear a bikini. It was no big deal, something thousands of women did at this beach every day. But of course, those women weren't married to Martin, and they didn't have to abide his jealousy and controlling nature every day. Still, only she knew that; no one else on the beach knew her, or Martin, and probably no one would notice her in her bikini. But, even so, the possibility that someone might notice her sent a thrill running through her.

After a little while walking on the uneven beach sand, she decided to take her flip flops off. Next came the bigger step. She set her bag on the sand, and in a quick motion reached down to the hem of her cover up and pulled it up, over, above, and off her body. She scrunched it up and stuffed it in the bag before she could second guess her decision.

Erin stood on the beach, clad in nothing more than sunglasses and her brand-new, tiny, green bikini.

"Woah!"

She was startled to hear the exclamation, coming from someone nearby. It was the voice of a young male. Erin wasn't conceited, but she guessed the voice was responding to her. She tried not to react, but she couldn't help but smile. She also wanted to know who her admirer was. She kept her head straight forward, but behind the obscurity of her sunglasses her eyes scanned the beach for the source of the voice. It didn't take long to figure out who it was. About 20 feet away to her left sat two skinny young men; one was looking at her with his mouth open, and he was elbowing the other one, not very subtly. His companion looked up, and when he saw her his jaw dropped open too.

Erin kept walking forward, trying hard not to show she'd noticed the young men admiring her. But she felt a delicious thrill in the obvious enjoyment they got in watching her.

As she walked along the beach in her bikini, threading her way across the beach and around people and blankets and umbrellas, she tried to imagine what she looked like. The bikini was smaller than any she had ever worn before, and she could barely feel it on her as she walked forward. The warmth of the sun, angling higher and hotter in the sky as the morning wore on, made her skin tingle, and for some reason it tingled most on and around her breasts and on her butt.

After walking for a few minutes she found a good spot to sit down. It was a about a hundred feet from the water. A low, chalky bluff rose from the sand about fifty feet behind her. She took a blanket out of the bag and flipped it out and lay it on the sand. She plopped her barely clad bottom on the blanket and pulled the bottle of sunscreen out of the bag and got to work lathering it over her fair skin. Not having lain out in the sun much this season so far, Erin had no summer tan to speak of, and she was ripe for burning without taking protection. She didn't want to have to explain a full body sunburn to her jealous husband later in the day. So, she spread the 50-SPI level sunscreen thickly all over her exposed skin. She took care to work in it in well so it wouldn't leave unsightly white splotches. There wasn't much point in trying to show herself off if the sunscreen left her looking spotty and ridiculous.

When she was satisfied that she'd protected her body sufficiently from the sun she put the bottle away and lay back on her elbows, facing the water. She dug her toes into the fine grain of the pale sand off the edge of the blanket. While trying not to be obvious about it, she appraised her body in the little green bikini.

It was little, all right. And the fabric of it was so thin and light that she barely felt it. Looking down at her chest she saw her nipples pricking prominently and hard against the thin, unlined top, which was molded tight against her breasts. The triangle tops seemed thinner than she remembered them in her bedroom mirror. The lack of lining seemed more obvious than before, as well. A startling expanse of cleavage lay between the thin green strips that covered a part, but not all, of her breasts. Somehow her breasts looked bigger and fuller to her than before, too. She had the odd sense of them straining against the little top, which in its brevity seemed barely sufficient to hold them back. She had the sense that if she were rock side to side the thin strips of green would slip off and reveal her nipples. While the bikini top was not see-through, the fabric was thin enough that she thought she saw a hint of darkness where her quarter-sized areola lay, and if she was correct the edge of her areola were only millimeters from the edge of the green bikini top.

Her eyes moved down her body. Erin was pleased at the tautness and flatness of her belly. The bikini bottom was low -- very low. The side strings lay just below her hip bone, and the scant green triangle in front stretched tight across the front from one hip bone to another, leaving just a trace of a gap between the top edge of the bikini bottom and her skin. It seemed to Erin that the front was smaller than it had been before, but she couldn't figure out why that would be. Still, the top edge of the bikini bottom was so low that if she hadn't shaved down there tufts of pubic hair would be peaking out. She guessed that the top edge of the paper-thin bikini bottom lay no more than half an inch from the top of her clitoral hood. Erin let her legs fall open a little, and she liked the way the fabric of the bottom stretched tightly but comfortably over the skin between her legs. The fabric molded against her closely enough that from her viewpoint she could see a hint of the cleft between her legs. It was noticeable enough to be sexy, but not so noticeable as to be vulgar, she thought. But, as with her top, she was conscious of the lack of lining on the bottom, and the possibility that the thin fabric stretched tightly over her pubic mound would show someone sitting in just the right position a distinct camel toe.

Deciding to ignore her exposure, or maybe enjoying it a little, Erin threw her head back and closed her eyes. The sun on her body felt wonderful. It encased her in a warm, sultry glow. She felt the heat of the sun moving over and under her skin. It seemed to pierce her, and to fill her. The boundary between her skin and the air was fuzzy. Her mind drifted. As she lay there it almost seemed that the skin directly under the fabric of the bikini buzzed with extra warmth, as though the fabric absorbed and concentrated the sun's heat where it touched her skin. Soon the extra warmth became a slight tingle, and then a stronger tingle. The extra warmth seemed to caress and almost pinch her nipples, as though warm fingers were moving back and forth against them. Between her legs the warmth settled into her cleft. She felt a sudden tongue of warmth move up and down between her lips down there.

Erin almost let out a loud gasp, but she came out of her reverie in time to catch it. Or, at least, most of it. Oh, my goodness, she thought. She had never felt anything like that before.

She looked around her. While her eyes had been closed the beach had been filling up around her. To her left sat three young couples sprawled over a few blankets. They were talking among themselves quietly; Erin couldn't make out what they were saying but she caught a hint of an accent that sounded European. A dark-haired woman, maybe a little younger than Erin, was looking at her, smiling faintly. Erin felt embarrassed. How loudly had she gasped? She wondered.

At her feet, 2o feet away and between her and the beach, sat three skinny, young men. She guessed they were college students; one of them wore a tee shirt with the Greek letters of a fraternity house. All wore sunglasses, so she couldn't see their eyes. But one of them was obviously looking at her, and the other two were laughing about something.

To her right sat a middle-age man, by himself, propped up in a beach chair and holding a paperback book in front of him. He was facing toward her rather than toward the ocean, presumably to catch the sun's rays most effectively, but possibly just so he could stare at Erin. It was hard to tell what his eyes were looking at behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses, but he was making a good show, at least, of reading the book in front of him. Erin guessed he was in his late 40s, but his figure was lean and the muscles of his shoulders and abdomen were well defined. He wore light blue swim trunks that were unusually tight and short.

Erin suddenly was aware that she was holding her legs far apart, giving the college boys quite a view. She hadn't even realized she'd been doing that. She must have done it without noticing while her eyes had been closed and her attention focused on the warmth of the sun. She brought her legs back together, slowly so as not to act as though anything was amiss, but she didn't close them all the way.

Erin turned to her bag, fished through it, and pulled out a paperback book to read. It was a trashy, erotic romance novel. She had started it a few weeks earlier but Martin had made fun of her when he'd caught her reading it in bed, so she hadn't made any progress reading it since then. This seemed like the right occasion for it.

She opened it to the page she'd dog eared the last time she'd read it. The story was brisk and sexy and engaging. But Erin noticed after only a page or two that she couldn't concentrate on it well. She couldn't tell why at first, but then she noticed that sense of warmth between her legs again. She sat up and moved the book to the side and looked down.

Something seemed odd, but at first she couldn't tell what. Then she noticed it. The front part of the bikini bottom seemed even smaller than she remembered it being. The top edge lay even lower than before, just barely lying over and covering the fold of skin over her clit. The triangle seemed narrower, too, which didn't seem possible. Before it had been narrow, but now it seemed almost scandalously so -- no more than two inches across at its widest point. The color of it looked different, too, a paler, almost golden green, with an iridescence she hadn't noticed before. What was odd, as well, was that, although the fabric was certainly narrower, it wasn't bunched up; if anything it was stretched more tightly and molded more closely to her flesh than before. The bikini bottom furrowed noticeably where it molded to the slit of her pussy. Erin felt a slight but noticeable pressure there that she hadn't felt before, as though the fabric was pushing back and out against her labia, doing its best to part them. Erin was mesmerized at the sight and at the feel of it. And as she looked it, she noticed, also, that a slightly darker line of green lay directly over her pussy. She was aroused, and the damp flesh inside her vulva was moistening the thin bikini fabric.

She suddenly was conscious of what she was doing. She looked up and snapped her legs closed. One of the college boys in front of her, the one with the fraternity shirt, was looking at her, his mouth in a stupefied "o." He looked like he'd seen a ghost, or an angel, or something. Out of the right of her glasses she saw the middle aged man. He still was holding his book, and wearing sunglasses, but the position of his head was such it wasn't clear if his eyes were on the book or on her.

For just a moment, Erin felt annoyed. Then the feeling passed.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she thought to herself. "You wanted to expose yourself, and you wanted to be noticed. Well, mission accomplished. I wanted to be stared at in a bikini, and I am, by a frat kid and a middle-aged guy."

Erin felt a little funny about it, but it was a good kind of funny. This was harmless fun. It didn't mean anything, and it was nice to be admired, even ogled. She hadn't been ogled like this in a long time.

She held her knees together and leaned over to her bag, pulling out a water bottle. She sat up and took a long swig from the bottle. Though she hadn't been at the beach that long the sun and warmth made her thirsty. She tilted the bottle in the air, and some of the water poured out over her lips and splashed onto her chest. She looked down at her chest and noticed a thin pool of water breaking into two rivulets that ran over and soaked the triangles of fabric that barely covered each breast.

The effect of the water was immediate and dramatic. The green fabric, previously thin but opaque, was suddenly and startlingly transparent. The dark skin of each areola was perfectly visible, as were the hard, erect nubs of her nipples. The cold water also gave her goose bumps, and it seemed to perk up her nipples even more. Where the fabric was wet it looked almost like there was no fabric at all.

Erin was nonplussed, but she didn't want to act like it in front of her audience. She kept her head down but looked up through her sunglasses and saw the frat shirt guy elbowing a companion and obviously staring at her. She looked to her right and the middle aged guy had a faint smile on his face. She turned to her left and the young dark-haired European woman was openly smiling at her. She was wearing a bikini as well, though it was black and gold, and not as skimpy as Erin's. Erin looked up and beyond them and noticed that a few other groups of people lay on the beach not far from her as well. In fact, it almost seemed as though a semicircle of people had gathered around her, none closer than about fifteen feet but none farther than forty. Erin had her audience. It was a little thrilling, she had to admit, but it was also a bit disquieting how much more the bikini exposed her than she had expected.

Erin decided that, as much as she liked the idea of exhibiting herself, her front was giving a little too much of her way. So she turned around and decided to read her book while lying on her stomach. That felt better. Her nipples no longer were exposed. The bikini bottom was skimpy, but not scandalously so. She wouldn't be showing anything she didn't want to.

After about ten minutes of being distracted by her exposure and its effect on the people around her, Erin finally settled into reading her book. She decided to take another swig of water, so she raised the front of her body with one hand while she reached for the bottle with the other. As she did so she felt something different on her front. She looked down and saw the bikini top, lying, completely untied, on the blanket under her. In an instant she realized the truth: she was topless.

Erin lowered her chest quickly to the blanket. How had that happened? She was sure she had tied the bikini top securely, so it shouldn't have come off. It seemed odd that it could have happened so quickly, with no effort by her to take it off. She grabbed the ties of the top at her side and reached behind her and tied it back as best she could. As she did so she noticed, looking off to the side, that the middle-aged man had set his book down. He wasn't obviously staring in her direction, but she knew -- she just knew -- that his eyes were on her behind the sunglasses. He held his knees about two feet apart, and his tight, short swim trunks bulged noticeably.

This was getting a bit out of hand, Erin thought to herself. She wanted to show off a little bit, and she wanted to be noticed, but she hadn't expected or intended to show off her bare breasts to anyone.

Oh well, she thought. The deed was done. She was decent again, and if the middle-aged guy had happened to get a peek at her unfettered bosoms, what of it? He'd had his fun, and she'd made his day. She would be more careful from this point forward, but no harm had been done.

Erin had no desire to show off her bare breasts more than she had, so she kept her chest pressed against the blanket as she resumed reading her book. She tried to concentrate on the words on the page instead of worrying about what the people around her had seen of her. Fortunately, she was getting to a good chapter in the book. The heroine, who was under investigation for the murder of her husband, was seducing the detective on the case. Erin turned the page and started reading about how she seduced him -- how she removed her blouse, and unhooked her bra, and pulled his chest down onto hers on the bed.

Soon Erin had forgotten her surroundings. She was caught up in the story. But suddenly she noticed a buzz of warmth between her legs, and she was surprised to find that without having noticed it she had begun grinding her pelvis into the blanket. Suddenly conscious of what she was doing, she stopped, but the warmth between her legs was still there. What was going on? She thought. There was no doubt about it: even as she'd stopped moving, she felt a warm tingle between her legs. It seemed to start at her pussy, but then it moved back toward her ass. Erin suddenly was keenly aware of the feeling of then thin strip of bikini bottom between her ass cheeks.

Wait a minute, she thought. That didn't feel right. She was wearing a bikini, not a thong.

Not wanting to call attention to herself, Erin reached her hand back slowly toward her ass, as though to make a minor adjustment to it. But at first she didn't feel any bottom -- all she felt was her bare ass, warming under the sun. Where was the bottom? Her hand reached back farther until she felt the bottom -- but there was hardly anything left of it. All Erin felt was a thin strip, perhaps no more than an inch wide, disappearing into the crack between her pert, firm, and now very exposed cheeks.

She heard the sound of male laughter behind her, coming from the direction from which the frat boys were seated.

Now keenly aware of how much she was exposing of her ass, Erin immediately turned over and sat up. She hugged her legs to her chest. Her eyes scanned the surroundings beyond her sunglasses.

The beach was much more crowded than before. The three young couples, the young frat guys, and the middle-aged man were still there. But so were at least 30 other people within 50 feet of her. And it sure looked like a lot of them were looking at her. She couldn't be sure, because nearly everyone was wearing sunglasses, but at least 20 people were turned enough toward her that they could watch her if they wanted to.

Erin had never been in a pickle like this before. No matter what position she took, the bikini seemed to expose her. What to do? Erin liked being looked at, but she hadn't intended to show off her breasts or bare butt.

For the moment, sitting up and facing the beach with her arms wrapped around her knees, she seemed to be safe from further inadvertent exposure. Her upraised knees hid her breasts from view, and her crossed ankles obscured the space between her legs.

Erin didn't want to look concerned or distressed so she stared beyond the people around her toward the ocean. It must have been about noon, for the sun was at its zenith, and the blue brilliance of the sky was reflected in the water. It was a beautiful day, a perfect day to be at the beach. Half a mile off shore, a boat sped along, and behind it someone in a parasail rose lazily into the sky. Higher and higher they rose, the tether playing out farther and farther. After following the progress of the boat along the shore for a minute or two, Erin turned her attention from the boat and parasailer to the waves themselves. The air was still and the waves were low and quiet. Near the shore the waves broke and crashed at regular intervals. A little farther out they undulated gently. Farther out still, the waves were imperceptible, and the ocean lay flat and shiny like blue glass.