Amy and Rachel at the Beach

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Amy spotted the man watching them when the sun reflecting off the binoculars he held caught her eye. She wondered how much he could see. She didn’t tell Rachel. She’d wait until Rachel finished. She glanced down the beach again to see if the man was still watching. He was. Standing there, ominous as a scarecrow, higher than them on the third-floor deck of an ultra-modern house four houses away. She could almost feel his eyes on her bare breasts. Turning to watch Rachel on the chaise lounge next to her, Amy thought, it won’t be long now; she’s almost there. She wondered if the man with the binoculars could see what she was doing. Rachel had that look on her face, like she was in acute pain—or was about to get off. She was pressing the little oval vibrator so hard into the crotch of her bikini bottom her knuckles were white and Amy couldn’t hear the buzzing anymore. There she goes, Amy thought, as Rachel arched her back and lifted her body against the back cushion of the chaise. “Nnnnnng, nnnnggnn, ahhhhhh,” went Rachel, coming hard. Her body jerked several times before she relaxed and opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. “Good one,” Amy said. She felt the tingle she always got watching Rachel orgasm, imagining she could almost feel it too. “Omigod,” Rachel said, shaking her head, catching her breath. She looked at her crotch. “I’m soaked.” She turned off the vibrator, squeezed her legs together, talked fast. “Really good . . . Scary good. I was afraid . . . I hurt myself. You know how sometimes you can feel it coming, only real far away, and you squeeze down on it, trying to make it come?”Amy nodded, listening, enjoying Rachel chirping like a happy little songbird.“Then I just, I don’t know, erupted inside? It wasn’t like using your fingers, it felt different, a lot, like you feel the buzz and it’s like . . . you’re hearing it with your pussy . . . Where’d you get this anyway?” She examined the vibrator. “I want to get one. But I really thought I might have hurt myself somehow.””Seriously, Rach? It didn’t look like you were thinking at all.” “I wasn’t at first, but when it got really, really intense, I got a little scared,” she said. “Phwew!” “Oh, Rachel, you’re adorable,” Amy said, smiling affectionately. “Listen. Don’t look, but there’s a man watching. With binoculars. Down the beach, that way,” she said, and jerked her head to indicate he was behind her. “He’s on the top deck of that real modern beach house.” “Omigod,” Rachel said. She bolted off the chaise and turned her back to put her top on. “Did he see me? Why didn’t you tell me?” “You were pretty busy,” Amy said, not putting her top on. They had been sunbathing topless kaçak iddaa for at least an hour, and Amy figured he’d already seen her boobs. She wondered how Rachel could be totally uninhibited one minute and embarrassed the next—just because someone was watching. Amy wished it had been her getting off. It would be more exciting with him watching her. But, that’s Rachel. She’s not an exhibitionist. “You let me keep going? With him watching?” “Yea-ah. What’s the problem? I love watching you,” Amy said, laughing at Rachel’s rosy blush. “Besides, if I said anything you would have missed that scary one, wouldn’t you?” “It was really good, I’m still tingling,” Rachel said, a dreamy far-away look in her eyes as she gazed at the ocean. She turned to glare at Amy and slammed her palms on the arms of the chaise. “That’s not the point! You should have warned me!” She looked past Amy. “Is he still there? I don’t see anyone.” Amy looked over her shoulder. “No. He’s gone,” she said. “Too bad. We could give him a real show.” Rachel didn’t say anything. She shot Amy her exasperated look and went inside. * * * Rachel’s great uncle owned the Jersey shore house where the girls were staying. It was on a barrier island north of Atlantic City in a seaside community where old traditional beach houses were interspersed with contemporary structures designed to be uniquely different from their neighbors. Aaron was the last of her grandfather’s six brothers still living and the property had passed to him. He and his wife, Emily, usually spent long weekends in the house, except during the winter when they closed it up. Rachel had always gone there before with her parents, but they had decided to take a European tour without her, a kind of “second honeymoon” they said. So she invited Amy to come with her. It was early August in the summer before their senior year. In return for her great uncle’s hospitality, the girls had volunteered to do some cleaning and painting. Wednesday morning, after breakfast, the girls walked south on the beach, past the modern house where Amy had seen the man on the deck the afternoon before. They walked barefoot along the water line, feeling the cold waves lap their feet, leaving grains of sand clinging to their toes and brightly painted toenails. They were both wearing T-shirts over bikini bottoms, no bras, and walking into a stiff breeze made the shirts cling to their breasts and flat tummies. “Do you see him?” Rachel said, as they passed the modern house, not wanting to look herself. “Yes, there he is! Hi, there!” Amy said, waving to no one. “Omigod! Amy stop!” Amy knew Rachel would rather bury her head in the sand than look at kaçak bahis the house. “Relax, Rach. He’s not there. I’m teasing.” Rachel slapped her arm. “Amy, I swear I’ll pee myself if you do it again.” “I think next time he’s watching we should give him a real show, Rach. It’d be fun.” “You can, I’m not,” Rachel said, imagining what Amy meant by “a real show.” “It’s too freaky. I couldn’t do it.”They walked a quarter mile or so along the beach before turning back. They didn’t see the man on the way back. Their plan for the day was to wash windows. Working together they finished all the windows by noon. Rachel made grilled cheese sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea for lunch and they ate sitting at the table in the big old-fashioned kitchen. Time at the beach was turning into an orgy of masturbation. They had become obsessive-compulsive about it. Amy got anxious if she went one day without masturbating. And if Rachel didn’t feel like it, she would watch, sometimes joining in if watching aroused her. They indulged daily, getting off singly or together, fingering themselves or each other, experimenting with any object they found in the house that could be inserted, including the wooden handle of an antique potato masher discovered in the kitchen. Their seventeen-year-old vaginas didn’t require lubrication. They were always wet.The obsession began two weeks before when Amy showed Rachel a video on her iPad of her fingering herself. They made a few videos alone or together until they got bored with it. Rachel thought it was too bad they had no record of Amy going down on her. It had been wonderful, but she hadn’t done it again. Rachel wanted her to, but she was too shy to ask. Amy was waiting for Rachel to return the favor, waiting to feel Rachel’s beautiful lips on her pussy. After eating and cleaning up the kitchen, Amy said she was going to the second-floor deck again to lay in the sun. Rachel said, “I know what you’re thinking.”Amy said, “What?””I know you’re hoping he’ll be watching.” Amy said, “So? Why do you care?”Rachel put her hands on hips and said, “I’m not going out topless any more.” She sounded like a defiant child.”Suit yourself,” Amy said. “Maybe I’ll get naked.” She made a face and stuck out her tongue. They were like a pair of two-year-olds squabbling. On the deck facing the ocean Rachel wore a top, Amy didn’t. Rachel settled in a chaise and opened a paperback romance novel. The cover illustration showed a couple embracing, apparently in a storm, because Amy saw that the woman’s long hair was blowing off the page. Standing by the railing she could make out the author’s name, bigger than the title. “Why do you read that shit?” illegal bahis Amy said, her tone of voice continuing their squabble. “No reason, just something to do.” “Well, if you want something to do, you could read something more intelligent,” Amy said, making a sour face. “Fuck off,” Rachel said. She turned a page and continued to read. Amy glanced toward the modern house and saw the man come out on the deck. She went over and knelt next to Rachel on the chaise lounge. Rachel shifted her hips to make room. “I’m sorry, Rach,” Amy said sweetly. She leaned both hands on the armrests of the chaise and said, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She kissed her mouth. Rachel pushed Amy’s face away. Rachel frowned, realizing what Amy was doing. “He’s back, isn’t he?” Amy grinned. “Uh-huh.” “I don’t want to do anything, Amy.” Amy puckered her lips and made a sad face. “Oh, Rachel, I’m so horny.” “You’re always horny. No!” She pushed Amy away, flipped her long black hair back, and went inside, closing the sliding screen so forcefully it vibrated like a guitar string. Amy crossed to the railing and looked out over the ocean for a few minutes, showing the man her breasts in profile. They weren’t large, but bigger than Rachel’s, and she knew they were perfect. She imagined him watching, seeing her erect nipples through the lens of the binoculars. She ran her fingers through her shaggy blond locks, raised her arms and leaned back to look at the sky, puffing out her bosom like a bold advertisement. All she needed was a pole to climb, spin around it, be a tiny topless dancer in the prisms of his binoculars. Exhibiting her body aroused her, made her wet, caused the fluid to seep into her bikini, like squeezing juice from a slice of lemon. She peeked at him as she moved to the chaise. She bent over, more than was necessary to adjust the back of the chaise so it was nearly flat. Satisfied that she had given him a long enough look at her ass, she stretched out on her back on the cushions of the chaise. She began lightly dragging her fingertips back and forth over her abdomen, slowly getting closer to her breasts. She touched them with both hands, pinched her nipples gently, generating pleasurable waves of sensation that spread like ripples from a pebble dropped in a pond of sea water trapped behind the falling tide. Her mind was absorbed in the tantalizing feelings of her touch, until she began to wonder if she was being too obvious, signalling that she was aware of him watching. Oh, well, she thought, I am. Rachel came to the open sliding door and spoke through the screen, “Amy, what are you doing?” Amy continued to stimulate her nipples, rolling the hard little nuggets in her fingers. “Nothing.” “I can see what you’re doing,” Rachel said. “I know.” “You know that guy could be a pervert or something.” Amy, wetting two fingers, circling a nipple, said, “Mmmm.

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