A Bikini with a Mind of its Own

Finally, her unsteady hands found the bottom of the little garment. She pulled it open, fell down on her knees on her blanket and pulled it quickly over her head. She felt the water on her still-damp body getting soaked up by the cotton fabric. The wet fabric against her body immediately made her cooler. Now crouching on her shins and knees she lifted her butt up to pull the cover-up down past her ass. It wasn't much of a cover, and the dampness of it caused it to mold tightly to her body, but she wasn't naked anymore, thank goodness.

She fished her sunglasses out of the bag and put them on. She looked up and, not moving her head much, she glanced from side to side through the shade of her glasses to see the people around her.

There were twice as many people in her immediate vicinity as when she had gotten up from the blanket to get in the water. Most of them now were turned away from her, or at least partly away, to make a show of not caring too much about the young woman who had been naked just moments before. But a few people still obviously gawked in her direction, and she was sure that others were staring at her behind the anonymity of their sunglasses.

Erin was beyond caring.

She had had enough of the beach.

Erin gathered her blanket and stuffed into the bag. She stood up and walked, fast, in the direction of her car. She didn't want to look at the people around her, but she couldn't help it.

The middle-aged guy still held a book in front of him, but he was smiling slightly, and at his hip he was giving her a thumbs-up symbol.

As her eyes swept the other way she saw the three frat guys together again at their cluster of blankets. All were looking at her. One of them was holding up his cell phone, again, and obviously preparing to snap a photo of her.

The young Europeans were talking among themselves, other than the one dark-haired woman that had smiled at her before. She was smiling at Erin and mouthing words that Erin couldn't make out.

Erin left them and walked briskly in bare feet over the sand toward the parking lot. The sand was hot now and almost burned her feet, but Erin wasn't about to stop to put her flip flops on.

After a few minutes, she was back at the parking lot and her car.

She opened the door and sat down in the front seat and tossed the bag on the passenger seat. It fell over, and the blanket spilled out, along with the little green bikini, and the bottle of sunscreen.

She didn't want to get any sunscreen on the car seat -- that wasn't something she'd want to have to explain to Martin -- so she reached over to put it back in the bag. She did so, but when she pulled her hand away from the bottle her fingers were doused in the thick sunscreen lotion.

She looked around for something with which to wipe her hands off, but didn't see anything.

Then she noticed that the little cover-up was pulled up at her waist. Her vulva was on view again, hairless and pink and damp between lips that were opened wide. Erin looked up quickly to see if anyone in the parking lot might see her. There was no one nearby. An empty pickup truck sat to her right, off the passenger side. On her left, off the driver side, was an open space, with a beat-up SUV in the space next to it. The "No Lifeguard" sign blocked most of the view in front of the windshield. She looked in the rear view mirror and there were no people or moving cars visible behind her.

Without thinking more Erin plunged her lotion covered fingers into the pink flesh between her pussy lips and pulled them up toward her clit. She turned her fingers this way and that until nearly all of the lotion had come off her fingers and lay in a messy lather in and on her pussy. She looked to the side and saw the green bikini, the source of so much unexpected exposure and adventure that day. It lay on her blanket, and it looked the same way it had when she had tried it on that morning, as though it was protesting its innocence and disputing her memory of what had happened earlier. The sight of it aroused her. She stared at the bikini and at the same time mashed all of the fingers of her right hand against her pussy, pressing and spreading her lips around and pinching the nub of her clit between her fingers. Then she pushed two of her fingers, pressed together, deep into her pussy, and she bent her fingers into the shape of a hook and pushed farther until their tips pressed against the tender flesh of her g spot.

Erin looked up again, and still there was no one in sight near her car. She looked back at the bikini and then began moving her fingers back and forth in and out of her pussy, pressing up against the g spot with each inward thrust.

Staring hard at the bikini next to her and losing her caution she used her left hand to pull the lever needed to push the seat back. Then she brought her legs up and put her feet against the dashboard to either side of the steering wheel.

Her fingers, lathered up with sunscreen and her own wetness, worked in and out of her wet depths with greater urgency. Erin closed her eyes. She saw herself on the beach again, the little green bikini on her body. A crowd was gathered around her, intently watching her. Both triangle patches of the top were pulled to the side, showing off her nipples to everyone. The bottom was pulled to the side as well, giving a free and easy view of her pussy to the entire crowd. The lips were parted wide and the damp, pink flesh of the inside of her pussy was on view, and she was frantically pushing her fingers into it and pulling them out.

Erin's vision didn't last long because it brought her to orgasm almost immediately. Eyes still closed, she arched her back and felt a small gush of wetness between her legs. Her eyes snapped open at the same time she let out a small, thin gasp. She pulled her feet off the dashboard and brought them down, and her legs quivered. She didn't remove her fingers from inside her pussy right away. They felt good inside her, stretching and filling her damp, spent sex.

As the orgasm subsided, something on the driver's side caught Erin's attention. On the other side of the half-rolled down window next to her was the young man with the frat shirt. He had a cell phone in his hand, but he held it off to the side and wasn't taking a picture. He was just staring at her with his mouth open.

Erin and the young man looked at each other, and neither moved at first. Slowly, it dawned on her that her still-finger-stuffed pussy was on view for him. She pulled her fingers out, her pussy making a little audible wet "plop" as she did so, and she pulled the hem of the little beach dress down to cover herself. She didn't stop looking at him and couldn't think of what to say.

He spoke first.

"Please don't stop," he said.

"I'm sorry," Erin said. "Show's over."

The young man looked at Erin, with what seemed to her a unique combination of lust and sincerity.

"I think I'm in love with you," he said. "Will you marry me?"

He almost looked sincere, or, at least, as sincere as a lusty young frat guy looking at a partly naked woman can look.

"I'm already married," said Erin. "And I'm a little old for you, I think. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to say 'no.'"

"You're breaking my heart," he said. But then he smiled and held up his phone. "At least I'll always have memories of you."

Erin let out a big exhalation of air. She noticed the young man's companions were getting into the SUV and calling to him. Evidently, they hadn't seen her and didn't know what he was doing by the side of her car.

"Knock yourself out with that," she said. "Bye bye."

She started the car and pulled out quickly, leaving her admirer standing there taking one last photo of her as she left.

As she steered her car onto the road to get home, still shaking slightly from her orgasm, Erin heard her cell phone ping.

She picked it up. She had received a text message.

It was Martin. The message said, "Hey baby. My meeting ended earlier than expected. Work is done and I'll be home soon."

"Shit," Erin said. It still was early afternoon, and Erin hadn't expected Martin home until 6 p.m. She couldn't let him get home first. She didn't want to come home and have to explain being in a damp, salty cover-up, wearing underneath, and with a beach bag in tow.

She pressed her foot against the gas pedal. She sped up. She had to beat Martin home.

Traffic still was relatively light. Evening rush hour hadn't started yet, so the roads were not crowded. Erin was able to keep up a steady pace to the house.

She pulled the car into her neighborhood, onto her street, and saw the driveway ahead. With the click of the remote she opened the garage. It was empty. Martin wasn't home, yet.

"Thank goodness," she said to herself.

Erin made sure to gather everything in the car and throw it into the bag. She left the car and simultaneously shut the garage door and scampered into the house.

She ran to the small room with the washing machine and stuffed the beach blanket and her cover-up into it. She pushed the button to start the machine. She took the bikini into her hand -- she couldn't risk the slight possibility that Martin might pull open the washing machine and see it inside. She ran naked from the pantry room to her bedroom, pulled open a dresser drawer, and shoved the green bikini under her panties and bras.

She took out the contents of the beach bag, ditched them under a cabinet in the bathroom, and then ran over to the closet to hide the bag in a corner.

Still naked, she ran back to the shower. It was time to wash off all traces of the beach -- the salt and the beach lotion.

She showered quickly. The steady spray of water calmed her as she reflected on the insanity of the day she'd just had.

Conscious of Martin's imminent arrival, she finished her shower and dried off in a hurry. The instant she walked naked and dry out of the bathroom she heard the door to the garage open and shut with a bang. Martin was home.

She ran quickly to her dresser and pulled out a pair of brief cotton shorts and an old, tight t shirt. She put them on. She heard the sounds of Martin opening drawers and moving around the kitchen.

Erin left the bedroom, checking one more time to make sure no sign of her beach visit was on display, and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Martin was there. He had just pulled a bag of chips out of a pantry cabinet and had poured them into a bowl. He was munching away, loudly.

She walked up to him in short shorts, tight top, and damp hair, and gave him a hug.

Martin looked her up and down and gave her a quick, "Mmmmm. Looking good, darling."

He gave her a quick, perfunctory kiss on the cheek.

"What've you been up to today, babe?" he asked. "Looks like you got some sun."

She let herself smile for him.

"I guess so," she said. "I went for a run. I ended up running longer than I expected to."

"Got to be careful out there, baby," Martin said. "You don't want to expose too much of your skin."

There was nothing Erin could say to that.

Martin grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, popped the top off, and started walking out of the kitchen. He turned back to her as he got to the door.

"Sorry not to talk, honey. Hard day. I'm going to turn the TV on and see how much of the game's left. You had a good day, though?"

He had turned the other way and started walking out the kitchen door before she had a chance to reply. Erin thought about the day she had had. She thought about the bikini, now lying under layers of socks and bras and panties in her dresser drawer.

"It was perfect," Erin said, to herself.