Beaches and Cream (6 page)

In time, Anton's father suggested that Anton show us the vineyard where all of this deliciousness began. After so much Dionysian hospitality, I was more than a little tipsy and I'd be glad for the walk and the air. Anton's father busied himself preparing a lovingly selected case for us as we three made our way to the stairs—Anton and Tia first, and me a few steps behind.

“Oh…Mand?” I heard Anton's father call. I stopped halfway down the stairs. But Tia and Anton continued their descent into the cool dark. I turned and went back up.

“Mand,” Anton's father approached me conspiratorially, an impish smile bringing the boy out of his weathered face. “Anton hates when I do this. He says I want to give everything away. But here….” He produced a bottle of rose-coloured champagne and thrust it into my hands.

“No, please….you've given us so much already…..”

“No, no,” he clicked his tongue. “Take it. This is the best we have. Something very special. You and Tia and Veronica must drink it with my blessing. A most beautiful sparkling wine for three of the most beautiful, sparkling ladies. Now go. Go and join Tia and my son in the vineyard.”

I looked at the precious bottle in my hands. Feeling completely spoiled, but certain I would cause offense if I handed it back. “Thank you so much…. I don't know what…..”

He placed his hand over mine and smiled contentedly. “Please. Enjoy.” Still smiling, he turned to complete our selection. “I'll put these in the car for when you return.”

“Thank you!” I called again, before turning to go down into the cellar.

I descended into the darkness. Dwarfed by the mighty casks bulging like the bellies of sleeping giants, I clutched the treasured bottle to my chest. The air was cool and heavy with the odours of earth, wood, sugar and must. The space was vast. I was lucky there was a door open at the far end. Otherwise I would have become horribly lost.

The white-hot spot of the doorway grew larger. As I approached, Anton's silhouette cut a chiseled shape against the light.

“I've missed you,” I heard him chuckle.

I paused.

Tia joined him in the light, and Anton pulled her to him. Her shadow looked small and delicate as she moulded to him. He bowed his head to hers and they kissed. I stopped in my tracks, mostly out of surprise but also deeply reluctant to distract them. His shyness had left him and his movements were strong and sure with Tia in his arms.

“Where's Mand?” I heard Tia ask breathlessly when at last they parted. She peered into the darkness. I shrank into the shadows, feeling I'd already seen too much, but not wanting them to stop on my account.

“Probably having gifts lavished upon her by my father,” Anton replied. “C'mon, she'll catch up with us in the vineyard.” He took her hand and led her out into the sun.

I waited for a moment, and then stole after them. The vines spiraled away over the hills in a cochlear formation. I chose the row I thought they'd taken and followed tentatively, hoping to find a more neutral moment to rejoin them. In time, I heard their voices. They sounded relaxed and conversational. So I quickened my step to join them before I interrupted something more intimate.

But we were not in the same row. Separated by dense flora, heavy with fruit, we had ended up parallel to each other, but two rows apart. I was glad the vines separated us, for I was clearly too late for any form of casual reunion.

Anton and Tia stood motionless between the vines. Then, as I peered through the leaves, Tia pulled her sundress over her head. She wore no undergarments whatsoever—as if she'd come prepared for just this moment.

“Tia…we can't…” Anton protested. But his voice was strained with longing. His hands pleadingly open, and the compact bulge at his front clearly swollen from the enchantment of Tia's kisses and her newly naked body.

“But….Mand…” he continued feebly. It was funny to hear my name on his lips, with Tia naked and provocative before him.

“Don't worry,” she whispered, walking toward him slowly. “We can stop when we hear her coming.”

Though I'm not sure even Tia believed that. Her hungry eyes never left his—like the hypnosis of a vampire. This sort of power seemed to run in the family, and I knew from personal experience that it was utterly irresistible. Anton didn't protest when her busy hands casually flipped open the buckle of his belt and lowered his trousers from his waist. His sturdy cock bounded into the air, and he stepped free of his pants and soft shoes in two steps. Tia lifted the hem of his shirt, and he followed her lead, pulling the garment off over his head so that he was as naked as she. She sighed happily and threw her arms around his sturdy torso. I loved that feeling—the feeling of two yearning bellies pressed together, mine soft, his hard; with the round, hot meat of his swollen penis sandwiched between us. I envied her. My tummy flipped and my pussy spasmed when I thought about how long it had been since I'd had a man.

She kissed him again, deeply, and then stepped back. His beautiful cock jutted out proudly from his equally beautiful body. My own breath caught in my throat as I watched it, shamelessly quivering in the wind. Tia knelt before him, almost as though in prayer. Her wide eyes surveyed his as she opened her mouth wider still, and took his gorgeous, grateful penis into her mouth. Their eyes closed in unison—his in gratitude, hers in gratification, both in absolute rapture.

Her pace was sensually deliberate. As though she wanted to savour every pass her lips made over the sensitive organ. Revel in the thick, warm flesh as it met her tongue, her throat, and all the soft, private places inside her mouth. Slowly, she worked her mouth deeper down the shaft, his member growing slick with her saliva.

I watched in wrapped perversion. There was no other way to say it. I'd never seen anything so rude and real, and yet so deeply private, as this spectacle before my eyes. My own mouth watered as I empathetically savoured the glorious piece in Tia's mouth. I could practically taste the salty pre-cum that she had been teasing from him ever since they'd entered the cellar. I looked down for a moment to find one of my hands wrapped tight around the neck of the champagne bottle, as though willing it to turn into a plump, pulsing, vigorous penis for my very own.

Tia snaked a hand up his thigh and began to caress the retreating pouch of his testicles as she continued her indolent feast.

Anton half groaned and half laughed, already on the brink of release, and unable to withstand another foray of pleasure.

Tia let out a low, throaty laugh that was the exact homophone of her mother's. They would never know how similar in lust they were. For me, hearing Veronica's dirty laugh gurgling forth from her daughter's cock-relishing throat—I am almost ashamed to say—brought a torrent of honey to my over-indulgent cunt. I longed to touch myself. To masturbate right there in the fields. But masturbation seemed an insipid remedy for the cravings I felt at that moment. Furthermore, I might give myself away if I came….and I didn't want them to see me. I didn't want them to stop. I wanted to see more.

“Not yet,” Tia said softly to Anton. She removed the thick, hot piece from her mouth, leaving it to twitch violently in the gentle breeze, before pulling Anton to the ground.

Anton stretched out on his back onto the soft, red earth. And Tia straddled him. Tia had her back to me, and I could not see their faces. But their rude and wanting privates were very clear to me. Beneath her round bottom and between her spread legs, the lips of Tia's hungry pussy parted easily. She touched her open sex to the root of his, and both were immediately wet. She slid her slippery cunt over his turgid penis, not yet fucking him but massaging him. Right from the base where the hard column met the soft cradle of his balls, right up to his bulbous, glistening glans—as sensitive as a huge clitoris.

The honey poured from her as she teased them both—teased us all. Until their mews and moans escaped them freely, and I squeezed my thighs together wondering if I, let alone her, could bear not to have that cock inside me for one more second.

Finally, effortlessly, she eased herself onto him. They both bellowed with relief—I nearly did as well. His raging penis slid eagerly into her, and her sopping cunt swallowed it all, his balls squishing pleasingly beneath her buttocks, just before she rose again to expose his glistening pipe and began that sweet, slow rhythm that caused all of our breaths to quicken and our hearts to beat faster.

I'd never seen this….like this. I mean, when I have sex with a man, of course I know what it
feels
like. But I never really get to see what it
looks
like. I'd never seen sex like this before, as a third party, right in front of my face. It was bold and crude and graphic—pornographic, I suppose. It was sloppy and slippery and horny and hot….and it was wonderful. Tia didn't change her rhythm. She rested her hands on his chest, threw her head back, and just rode. His heavy, shiny prick slipping in and out…in and out….the pace unchanging. Tia's spread pussy slipping and slurping slowly up and down, as if Tia herself wanted to savour that feeling forever, rather than galloping forth to the finish.

Despite her temperance, Anton was only a man. A delicious and very excited man, but only a man. Had I not been wearing any panties, my thighs would have been slick with my own desire—and I wasn't even fucking. So I could only begin to imagine how he felt. His strong legs began to stiffen and then convulse. But Tia maintained her steady rhythm as his orgasm took hold. His taut buttocks lifted powerfully off the ground and his wide, brown hands circled Tia's waist, holding her down onto him, violently impaling her with his cock as his contracting orbs willfully gave up their seed, splattering through the gooey, seething canal of Tia's pussy as they both gritted their teeth and tried to keep the sounds of their lust from echoing throughout the vineyard.

As his orgasm subsided, Anton sat up, with Tia still astride him, his penis still within her. Then—with his chest still heaving, his head drooping over Tia's shoulder—he saw me. His face gave no sign of recognition, but his eyes locked with mine. I'd thought I was hidden in the dense foliage. But Anton was looking right at me. My heart leapt into my throat, and I held my breath for what felt like an age. Then, without thinking, I ran. I ran without a sound, back down the path I'd come.

I doubled back and fought my way through the foliage. When I'd caught my breath, I affected my most casual saunter and called after my friends.

“Tia? Anton?” I called.

“Yeah, down here, Mand! What happened to you?” Tia answered.

When I reached them, they were dressed, relaxed and smiling. Tia also had her mother's skill when it came to pretending that nothing had happened.

“Sorry, I….uh….was talking to your dad,” I said, showing Anton the bottle of champagne.

“Ah!” Anton exclaimed with a big smile. “That's what I said to Tia. My father does like to celebrate the company of women!” And, unbeknownst to Tia, he winked at me. I suppressed a smile, and the three of us wended our way through the magical, sun-dappled vineyard as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Tia told me what had happened between her and Anton. And I dutifully feigned surprise and ignorance. I don't know how pleased Tia would have been if I told her I'd watched the whole thing. And she might have been downright uncomfortable had I told her how horny and envious the whole thing made me. So, while I tried all day long not to think about fucking, like some kind of preoccupied pervert, Tia had positively flown back to the vineyard.

Veronica and I spent the morning and the early afternoon at the house, drifting between sun and shade, slipping whimsically into and out of the pool as the heat and our moods dictated. I did not seek to recover my clothing. Having crashed through the barricade of embarrassment that now seemed to be so much ado about nothing, my nudity was positively liberating. It really was so easy. With no consideration of what to wear or how, it felt wonderful to just be. By lunchtime I barely noticed my nakedness. And by the afternoon, I felt more embarrassed about my previous gymnophobia than I did about actually being naked.

Veronica and I sprawled in the garden, absolutely slathered in sun cream, as the roaring sun crept to its full height. The heat was ferocious, and I began to grow faint with exposure. I shaded my eyes as I turned to face her.

“It's absolutely boiling out here. I need to get out of the sun.”

Veronica fanned herself with her book, studying me from beneath the broad brim of her sun hat.

“You're so right, Mand,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let's not have you collapsing from sun stroke. I think I have just the thing to freshen you up.” She beckoned to me. “C'mon.”

We climbed the first set of steps where I thought Veronica might suggest that we get back in the pool. She did not, and we continued our ascent into the house. She paused to enter the pantry and delved into the large ice chest. She delved so deep that her breasts spilled into the chamber and she needed to lift one delicate foot off the ground. Her neatly trimmed pussy peeped out from beneath the heavy bloom of her bottom and between her firm, wide thighs. Whatever she reached for was well hidden.