Perverts 'R' Us

Spanish Holiday - Part 1

by Seasiren ( Ff )


Note: All people and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

Introduction

I'd always been a dirty little girl. I remember when I was four, my friend Lottie and I were playing in my back garage to the accompaniment of shrieks and giggles as we pulled down our panties and peed over the floor. We did it a number of times; it was one of our little games, a nice funny game that had us both competing to make the biggest and wettest puddle over the cold cement floor. We'd take turns to climb up and then sit on the edge of my Dad's workbench and let loose with arching fountains of golden rain. Our game became even more fun and much funnier when one day, after I'd taken my turn to make what I thought was a disappointingly small puddle, Lottie jumped up to make her contribution.

"Mine's going to be bigger than yours." She announced gleefully making me purse my lips in annoyance. I was so maddened by this, that I jumped in front of her to block the stream and spoil her puddle. Most of it hit my face, making me gasp and cry out as I got soaked and pummeled from the hot spray. Each time I did I got a mouthful of the stuff that I had to swallow to stop myself choking. I think it was then that the demon came into me and made me thirsty for the taste. Lottie screamed in frustration at first when she realized her winning puddle was being stemmed almost at source, but her cries quieted down when she heard my gurgling and gulping and saw my mouth opening and closing like a fish. I think she must have held her breath in wonder as I drank from her because she exhaled loudly with a sudden burst of breath when the stream finally ended.

"Ohhhhh!.....Ohhhh! Hazel!" She said in a voice full of marvel. "That was clever! Hee-hee. What was it like?"

"Nice, it tastes nice" I replied honestly just as the garage door was shoved open by Mother.

"WHAT!!!"

Me and Lottie weren't allowed to play together after that. I couldn't understand why my parents were so angry, calling me a very, very dirty girl and telling me I was very bad for doing something so disgusting.

As the years went by I forgot about all of that, or at least it seemed so, but it must have remained in the back of my mind and stuck there. I say that because I was once playing on some disused wasteland when I came across a white plastic carrier bag buried beneath some nettles. Been only young, curiosity got the better of me and I went looking for something long enough to pull it out with without being stung. Eventually I found a long twig which I managed to hook around the bags plastic handle and pull the thing out with. It turned out to be someone's porn stash; there was magazine after magazine devoted to photo's of lesbians making love in all kinds of different ways ranging from oral, S&M, toys and rubber.

I was shocked to the core at the bizarre images in front of me as I turned the crinkled pages, but strangely excited by the sight of the beautiful and sometimes slutty women having doing such dirty things. Did they really do that? Could it be true that grown up women did that kind of thing with each other. Some did I decided, but it was when I came to the last magazine that my jaws fell open. It was called 'Lesbian toilet games' and featured page after page of sultry looking women peeing into each other's mouths. I began to imagine what it must be like to let another woman hold her pussy open and piss into my mouth when I suddenly remembered the incident in the garage all those years ago.

The hidden memory was so exciting and so thrilling that I had to place my hand inside my knickers and start rubbing my little cunny then and there in the middle of the field. Page after page of glorious pee drinking jumped out of the pages for me to see, each one made me savor the taste of Lottie's warm pee as though it was still filling my eager mouth. I wanted nothing more than to be one of the open mouthed women in the magazine drinking the torrents of golden pee from her sexy partner. The final few pages were too disgusting for me to look at for very long, although enough for me to see pictures of lesbians crouching over their girlfriends and pooing in their mouths. Long ropes of poo passed out of their bottoms and past the lips of their partners, there was page after page of them chewing and swallowing their vile meals. Ughh! Gross! How could they I thought! I couldn't imagine how terrible it must be to do anything like that.

In spite of the nastier pictures in the magazine I found most of them thrilling, and I think that's when I really started to like other girls, especially the older one's who might be the same age as the models, and although I didn't know the meaning of the word I was well on the road to being a lesbian. I even began taking an interest in my female teachers, one of them in particular, a pretty blonde woman called Mrs. Robertshaw who I took to rubbing my pussy over at night, thinking of how I would make her happy doing some of the things I'd just seen. Of course fantasy sometimes has a habit of becoming reality, although no one will believe you if you tell them the truth because in some cases it can be ten times more incredible than the wildest of dreams.

Alexia

I met a lady in Spain. It happened a year later when I was on holiday with my Mum and Dad - no brothers or sisters - I'm an only child - and we were having our evening meal in the hotel dining room. I was bored with the food to be honest, I had a plateful of bony fish and was toying around with it on the end of my fork when I looked up and saw a dark haired woman watching me from the table behind my parents. She smiled as I met her eyes and twinkled as I stopped sulking and stared back.

Mum and Dad were both just thirty and she looked a little older than them, though not much, so I guess she was in her mid thirties. Her hair was black like a Spanish dancers and hung long and silky past her lightly tanned shoulders. Her face was long and sensual with high cheekbones and full generous lips, while her eyes were simply gorgeous. I'd never seen any as large and penetrating before, she looked so vital and full of living that I must have gawped with my mouth open because she gave me a mischievous wink and I noticed the laughter lines spreading from her eyes. I felt my face heating up like a stove and suddenly felt uncontrollably embarrassed as I turned away and tried to force a fork full of fish into my mouth but only succeeded in catching my tongue with the point of the tine.

"Ouch!"

"Are you alright Hazel?" My Mother exclaimed.

"Ohh, my tongue." I complained near to tears.

"Tsk.. Well, that's a lesson to you." She hissed unsympathetically. "Stop playing with your food and eat it properly."

Dad was watching me with a look of concern on his face.

"Are you alright Hazel? You're not feeling unwell are you love?"

Good old Dad, I knew he'd be on my side, he always was, especially if Mum was giving me a hard time as she sometimes did.

"Yes Dad I'm fine." I nodded. "I just slipped with the fork, I'll be okay."

I had a drink of orange juice and tried to eat my dinner without further incident, even though I was burning to look at the mysterious lady again. She was drawing me like a magnet, and I couldn't stop myself from raising my burning eyes and looking past Mum's shoulder to see her. There she was with the wine glass tipped to her lips. What luxurious olive skin she had, I loved her flesh and the way the low cut dress hinted at her shapely breasts. She was the answer to all of my lesbian fantasies, even Mrs. Robertshaw palled into insignificance next to her exuberance and beauty. Just then she put her glass down and looked straight at me. I tried to turn away in time but I knew she's seen me staring at her. I looked at my glass of orange and practically grabbed it as though it was a lifeline and I was drowning. Which I was!

"Hazel. Don't gulp it like that you'll give yourself hiccups if you aren't careful" Mum warned.

"Well I think she's too thirsty." Said Dad looking at me worriedly. "I'm practically sure she's under the weather."

I ceased my slurping and put down the glass.

"Both of you stop it. I'm just the same as always there's nothing up with me. Really.. there isn't." I insisted tiredly.

Oh what was wrong with me anyway? Why was she doing this to me? What was so special about the woman anyway? I looked up at her again without even knowing I was doing it and found her staring steadily into my eyes. I couldn't look away this time; I was like a rabbit in headlights, held by those beautiful eyes. When she was sure I wouldn't look away again, she nodded towards the side of the room and I followed her gaze towards the direction of the toilets. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, nodding in their direction for me to follow.

"I'm just going to the loo." I blurted as I rose hurriedly from the table to the sound of murmuring from my parents. I felt sick in the stomach and giddy with excitement as I followed the graceful steps of the tall shapely lady. We left the bustle of the dining room behind us as we trod along the shiny polished floor of the hallway, with its fragrant smelling plants lining the walls in large earthenware pots. Then we passed through a doorway that led into a small antechamber outside the toilets, where she stopped and smiled at me.

"You are English yes?"

I smiled back at the dazzling woman and replied as confidently as I could that yes, indeed I was, and my name was Hazel.

"Ahhh Hazel. What a beautiful name." She sang in her musical accent. "My name is Alexia and I am French as you may guess.

I felt my senses lift as I drank in the sound of her voice and breathed in her fragrant perfume. She was so physical a person, that's the best way I can describe her as I allowed myself to fall in love and dare to hope that she liked me as well. She answered that by leading me by the hand into the washroom. We stopped next to the hand basins and I cast a glance at myself in the mirror. My hair was long and golden and hung down my back in a loose swathe. I was of medium height although perhaps a little on the slim side, and my chest was still a little flat beneath my flowered tank top. Beneath that my bare flesh with its neat belly button looked inviting, while my trim waist, gripped by a pair of red hipsters that flared out along the length of my colt like legs, looked good as well. Sparkling green eyes lined by long dark eyelashes stared back, and a scattering of freckles along the bridge of my nose and cheeks helped to give my face a doll like quality. I suppose I looked the kind of girl everyone wants to put his or her arms around to protect. I stared at myself hoping I was good enough for her and felt pleased with myself when I noticed her watching me appreciatingly through the glass. I was very pretty.

"You are beautiful." She whispered bringing her lips to my ear and kissing it. I find you very attractive. Do you mind that? Do you perhaps think me so as well."?

"You're beautiful. Can I kiss you?" I blurted quite foolishly.

She gave a squeal of delight and pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Oh but that would be such a naughty thing. Alas I fear it would be to dangerous for us, I only brought you here so we could talk, but I can see you are impatient for more than..."

She mad a crocodile jaws motion with her hand to indicate a mouth opening and closing.

"Come and see me tomorrow." She said happily.

I was full of boldness just then, more than I'd ever been in my short life. I believe I had a higher sex drive than most girls of my age and while they were dreaming of romance - thanks to my illicit experiments in the garage with Lottie, and then the discovery of the lesbian magazines with their explicit fetishes - I expected more than just holding hands. I was different, I knew that suddenly, and I somehow knew I was entering a world I would be at home in. I guessed this was all about sex, at least I hoped so. Why else would she ask me here and then invite me to her room? With that in mind I went and did something totally outrageous. As though I was looking down on my own body, I saw myself reaching out and placing my hand beneath her satin evening dress and then resting it against the top of her thigh.

"Please be my teacher. I will do anything you ask." I whispered as seductively as I knew how for one still so young, before holding my breath and waiting for her reaction.

Her eyes widened slightly and her gaze took in the sight of my hidden hand, then she covered it with hers and moved it higher up to rest it briefly against her covered mound, before pulling it back again.

"Indeed... I believe you Hazel. You shall spend the whole day with me and I shall be your willing teacher."

I let my out my breath with a sigh of relief, I couldn't believe my own, nerve nor the effect it had had.

"What are you going to tell to your parents little bird?" She asked with a concerned look.

The answer was there before she had finished the sentence. Dad had been worried I wasn't feeling well, especially as we were supposed to be going on an organised trip of the island tomorrow. He didn't want me to feel unwell for that. What if I said I was under the weather? Not too sick that they'd have to say behind and look after to me though, that's the last thing I wanted. I'd tell them to go without me and I'd have a quiet day by the pool instead. I knew it would work, they were both so looking forward to seeing the rest of the island, and they knew no harm would come to me in the grounds of the hotel. My face flooded with warmth as I answered her steady gaze, her hair hung down near my eyes as she bent forward towards me, and I ran my hand through its dark wavy tresses as I answered.

"I'm going to be too unwell to go with them tomorrow morning. I'll tell them that I'm staying in the hotel instead."

Her eyes were alight with promise as she grasped my hand and held it to her hair.

"This is a fortunate meeting I think. You must go back now and I will be waiting for you tomorrow."

She gave me her room number and then kissed me on the nose tip and left.

Part. 2

It was around nine-thirty the next morning as I waved bye-bye to my parents in my pink bikini. I sat up from the sun lounger which was near the pool but still in the shade. They'd believed me whole heartedly when I told them I wasn't feeling too well and were reluctant to leave me alone at first until I convinced them I'd be okay.

I watched the tour bus pulling out of the hotel compound, dwindling into the distance, sending clouds of dust billowing out from the scorching roadway, and then took the straw hat off my head and placed it on top of the lounger. I skipped into the hotel building with my heart pounded in my ribs as I headed across the cool marble foyer towards the lifts. The door opened straight away when I pressed the button, so I jumped in and pressed the consol for the second floor, memorizing her room number as I climbed up. I was trying to get out even before the door slid open, feeling alive and brimming with need and unable to fight back my surging desire. Then suddenly I was there, standing before her door half naked but for the small bikini covering my smooth child's flesh. I knocked twice, soft knocks that had meant to be louder, only for some reason the door seemed strangely human to me all of a sudden and I was afraid to upset it too much with my ham fisted hammering.

"Good morning."

I flinched as she opened the door. She was dressed only in a pale silk nightgown tied at the waist with a loose sash. I couldn't help myself staring as I compared the lavish display of shapely olive flesh against the white material. She couldn't help a smile of satisfaction whipping across her lovely features as she stood aside to allow me in. A light airy room greeted me, along with the delicate fragrance of body oil and sweet jasmine. It was larger than our family room; she would have had to be well off to afford this kind of style. The double bed looked huge with its white cotton sheet thrown back at an angle, all crisp and ready for the next night. A dressing table made from light colored wood stood against the wall facing the bed, it had an array of cosmetics and perfumes lined up neatly beneath the mirror. There was even a photo of someone who I didn't manage to get a proper look at, I think it was a middle-aged man but I couldn't be sure. She must have followed my gaze because she walked over to it and placed it in a draw. I frowned and wondered why she was here by herself. A woman alone abroad, it's almost a cliché, maybe she was divorced and had no one in her life, but then why the photo on the dresser?

"Ah, it's so refreshing to be alone sometimes don't you think? You can have so many adventures by yourself." She said with a smile as though reading my thoughts. "So you told your Mamma and Papa you are unwell, yes?"

"Yes everything's fine." I assured her.

"How long do we have before they arrive back?" She asked walking over to the bed.

"Oh, about five in the afternoon the tour guide said." I answered feeling apprehensive now, but excited by the questions implications.

"All day then." She said sounding pleased. "Good."

My eyes widened as she pulled the sash of her gown open and swept it off her shoulders to reveal her buttery breasts. It dropped to the floor in a puddle as I stared spell bound at her sensuous form. Her breasts were long and pear shaped, with nipples sprouting out from large brown areolas. Then my gave traveled down to her flat stomach and neat vee of trimmed black hair, while lower still her wide hips and full fleshy thighs led down to a pair of long well toned legs. Amused at the expression of my face she turned around in a slow pirouette and presented me with a view of her buttocks. They were high and firm, and looked surprisingly full to my young eyes. It was the first time I'd seen a grown woman's ass; the pictures in the magazine were only printed paper, and were nothing like the luscious globes with their dark tight valley in-between that now faced me.

"You like?" She asked with a saucily grin over her shoulder.

I liked very much indeed. I felt like pinching myself in case I was dreaming and this was one of my over imaginative fantasies. I must have crossed my fingers without thinking because she laughed when she saw me do it, a low throaty laugh followed by a toss of her head and a wave of cascading black hair.

"I can see you like." She said turning round. "There's no need to cross your fingers Hazel, it's all very real."

I finally found my voice, feeling foolish for gaping but managing to smile and nod.

"Yes I like Alexia." I said feeling a little better for using her name. "You are beautiful. I couldn't help crossing my fingers, I think I was scared I'd wake up and you wouldn't be here standing before me so marvelous so...so naked." My voice dried up as ran out of words to describe my feelings, that and the prickling of excitement that rose up and overwhelmed my whole body.

"You are so sweet." She said kindly before sprawling back on the bed with trembling breasts. Then she lay back and propped herself up on her elbows with her eyes roamed lecherously over my near naked body, although it became clear, with her next sentence, that I wasn't naked enough.

"But you are still dressed." She said with a petulant pout to her voice "Be even sweeter and take off your bikini, then come and lay next to me on the bed."

Her legs parted slowly to reveal the wrinkled flaps of her glistening labia.

"I will be a good teacher, I hope you are going to be a good pupil!"

I saw a movement from the corner of my eye and watched entranced as her nipples began rising from bosoms like angry spear points.

It was going to be interesting!