Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.

This is a story about sexual relationships between consenting adults.  If
you 18 years or over, read on and enjoy.  If not, leave!!!!
   Do It Yourself.
   By Romany
   (F-solo, anal, M/F)
   I was 25 when we moved to America, for my partner Matthew to take an
expatriate contract in an IT based company, for one year.  We had moved
from London to Philadelphia and I took a job working for an Optometrist;
dispensing eyewear which I had done back in London.  I had always been a
bit of an exhibitionist, and held a strong desire to continue to explore
new experiences.  Matthew indulged my whims and I discussed all sorts of
possibilities, and fantasized about them, but often I had no opportunity to
put them into practice.  The new jobs were quite tiring for both of us, and
we had also bought a house that needed a lot of work.  The idea was to make
some gains on it before we left at the end of the contract.  Alternatively,
if we chose to stay and extend the contract, we would have an asset behind
us.
   When Matthew suggested we could go to a local tennis tournament
featuring masters age-group professionals, including John McEnroe and Matts
Wilander, to name a few notable ex-champions.  I agreed, of course.  We had
both followed Wimbledon with a passion and were well versed on the game. 
We had spent all that week doing nothing but work, in the office or in the
house.  The June weather was warm, and to be a prisoner in the house when
the sun was shining was very depressing for both of us.  The Saturday
morning was grey and cloudy, so I sadly put away the light dress that I had
planned to wear, and I put on a tee-shirt and a thick denim shirt to go
with my jeans.  We left the house and set off in the car.  I was not very
surprised when Matthew made a detour, passing by a Home Depot.  The weather
was really not promising!  He came back out with a huge collection of
screwdrivers and two large tins of paint.  Very exciting...not!
   As we drove along the road towards the tennis venue, the sun came out.
By the time that we entered the car park, the temperature was eighty-six
degrees, and it was still only ten o'clock.  I was hot.  I took off my
shirt and was still too hot.  Matthew looked at me.
   "You are looking pink, Ally.  Maybe we could do a little shopping for
you.  You haven't had a chance to dress up for a long time" he ruminated,
looking at me for agreement.
   How could I refuse?  I was perspiring and starting to feel
uncomfortable. For once, my jeans, tight against my crotch, were not giving
me the pleasure of a comfortable fit and the knowledge it was alluring to
male observers; as the heat was making it irritating.
   Matthew had been to the tennis venue several times.  We parked the car
and he found his way to a small shopping centre just back along the street.
We looked at several boutiques, but the shop which attracted me sold a
local specialty, Pennsylvania lace.  There was a tunic which I liked a lot.
It was loose-fitting, with short wide sleeves, ecru in color, with a lot of
space between the patterns of the lace.  I tried it on over my black
tee-shirt.  Matthew smiled with approval, but his smile faded a little when
he saw the price.  We were not rich and it was not cheap, because it was
hand-made, but it was the thing I really wanted.
   "If I wear the tunic with only skin underneath, can I have it?" I asked.
   "Try it like that first and I will decide, OK?" he answered.
   When we had been living in England, I had dressed seriously.  I was
quite staid despite my penchant for exhibitionism, which usually came about
as spur of the moment instances.  But being in the US I had this feeling of
a more liberated attitude to revealing dress so this would be a new
experience for me.  I went into the changing room, removed my tee-shirt and
put on the tunic.  The first thing that I noticed was that my nipples were
hard.  I could see that easily, because they were peeping through the holes
of the lace!  Even in the mirror I could see that I would be exposing most
of my breasts; the under curve and the nipples would be on show.  For the
first time in several weeks, maybe a month or more, I felt very sexy.
   Out in the shop I could feel eyes turn towards me.  I was exposed,
excited and happy.  Matthew looked at me and without hesitation and took
out his credit card.  We left the shop and went into out the sunshine.  He
took my arm.
   "You look good.  Would you like to walk to the tennis on your own?  I
will walk at a distance, and I'll only intervene if there is a problem," he
said quietly, somewhat excited by the anticipation of people's reaction to
my revealing dress sense.
   "Yes, I would like that." I said, with a happy but nervous smile.  "I
feel as if I am a new person, dressed like this.  It has been so long since
I have been excited in public, and it will be even nicer to be almost
alone, but to know that you are there if I need you."
   Matthew showed me the way back to the park where the tennis was.  I
walked slowly, enjoying the feeling of the hot sun on my almost bare
breasts.  I could sense that people were looking at me, young men of
course, older men and some women.  It was quite hard to avoid eye-contact,
but I needed to feel detached.  A group of teenage girls stopped to stare,
at first with shock, then with interest.  I smiled at them and one of them,
a pretty girl with short dark hair, blushed deeply.
   At the tournament, we sat high on the spectator stand.  Next to me was a
middle-aged man.  He cannot have seen much tennis, because he was staring
at my breasts all afternoon.  I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation.  I
realized that I had missed the fun of exhibitionism more than I had
imagined.
   We left the tennis at about five o'clock, having watched two games where
lesser former B-division ATP players had played.  We were not overly
familiar with any of the players and felt disappointed we had not seen any
of the bigger names of years gone by.  It was still warm, and the interior
of the car was boiling hot.  Once we were out into the suburbs, I allowed
my excitement to come to the surface.  I wanted to have an orgasm.  I put
my feet up on the dashboard, and stroked my jeans, which were tight against
my vulva.  I struggled out of my jeans, and sat back in my damp knickers
and sexy tunic, to make myself come.  Matthew was having a problem to
concentrate on driving, so when he saw a place to park he stopped.  We were
alone, in the middle of a small greenbelt, and he turned off the engine and
turned to watch me.
   I took off my knickers, which by now were soaking and again put my feet
up on the dashboard.  The windows were open and I felt a cool breeze on my
bare bottom.  I slid down in the seat, to let the breeze blow between my
thighs and buttocks.  It felt so good.
   I reached over and tugged at the zip of Matthew's jeans.  He helped me
to open it and I took out his cock.  I was surprised to see that it was
still soft despite my condition.  He made an apologetic gesture, to explain
that the heat was the problem.  I was very excited and I needed something
in me.
   Matthew turned to the back seat of the car.  When he turned back, he had
in his hand a nylon fabric wallet of screwdrivers.  He showed me the
handles.  They were smooth black plastic, with bright yellow rounded ends.
He took one out, a medium-sized one, and stroked it across my vulvas lips.
It felt good.  Holding the screwdriver shaft, he gently pushed the handle
into me as if it were a dildo.  That felt better but I needed something to
stretch me, so I nodded towards the biggest one, and raised my hips to let
him know what I wanted.  He took the biggest screwdriver by the blade, and
pushed that slowly into my vagina.  I grabbed the blade from him, and, to
put it brutally, I fucked myself with it.
   Matthew watched for a moment, still holding the smaller implement.  It
was shiny with my juices.  He reached below my hands grasping the
screwdriver, and I felt the smaller one he held, run between my buttocks.
When it stroked across my anus it made me jump.  I gasped.  The nerve
endings jangled, adding to the strong ripples coming from my clitoris.  He
looked at me, a question in his eyes.  I nodded.
   I sensed the round tip touch my anus again, as I continued to pump with
the big screwdriver.  This time the small one stopped, and I felt it push
against me.  I tried to relax and Matthew pushed harder, to squeeze it past
the strong muscle.  I had never had anything in my anus before now.  It was
not a route we had explored together, and one I had held a little disgust
when considering it.  But I was so aroused by the carnal nature of the
situation that I was ready for any new experimentation.  It is hard to
recall the sensations exactly.  I could feel the smaller handle slowly
insinuated inside me as Matthew pushed steadily; handle and gripped circled
by the sphincter.  I had to concentrate hard, in order to prevent it from
cramping tight.  I knew that would hurt but it was more excruciating than I
could have anticipated, yet I did not try to stop him, such was the lust
and carnal delight I was receiving at my own hands on the big screwdriver
buried in my cunt.  I grimaced and gasped as Matthew pushed harder and it
slid in deeper.  It was different from having my vagina penetrated, more a
sensation of having the walls of the passage pushed apart.  I was very
conscious of the two handles inside me, almost touching through the thin
membrane.  Despite the considerable discomfort, I was still feeling
surprised at how readily I was able to accept being penetrated once the
slimmer part of the handle nearer the blade moved through the sphincter;
the bulbous end of the handle now lodged I my anal cavity, when the power
of my orgasm suddenly amazed me.  I shuddered and contracted hard round the
two invaders, crying out in a series of sibs and cries that surprised us
both.  So strong!  My whole body took part in a tidal wave of pleasure.  I
twisted involuntarily against both the objects lodged a millmetre apart in
my rear, and once the effect of the stunning pleasure of the orgasm began
to subside, the dull ache of the smaller handle stretching my anus became
closer to my consciousness; previously masked by the overwhelming pleasure
that had wracked my body.
   "Take it out!  Take it out!  It hurts!" I gasped anxious that the
tightness I felt was preempting me splitting from my ragged movements
brought about by the orgasm, and the tightness of the invading handle.  The
enjoyment stopped abruptly, and I was now in pain.
   Matthew pulled the smaller one out, but I was still shaking as he kissed
me and caressed me gently.  I shrieked in anguish as the wider bulbous head
was dragged forcibly past the sphincter and a feeling of being bound when
trying desperately to take a big constipated dump caused me to go weak and
I started to sweat.  After a few minutes Matthew extricated the smaller
handle and I removed the larger one embedded in my vagina; so weak from
exhaustion that it spilled from my hand onto the floor mat.  After lying
semi comatose for a few minutes, while Matthew continued to caress and
cuddle me, I recovered, and I thanked Matthew by leaning over his crotch
sucking him to an orgasm.  His rock hard erection had arrived quickly as he
watched me come.
   That night at home in bed, I was naked and caressing myself while
thinking of the excitement of the day.  Matthew had me lie flat on my belly
on the bed and lay beside me, watching me masturbate.  He stroked my back
and kissed my shoulder and then he raised himself behind me, and knelt
between my thighs and gently pushed my buttocks apart.  I felt his breath
on my anus, then a gentle, gentle kiss right on it, and his tongue start to
swirl as he started to perform analingus on me.  I shivered, and rubbed
harder on my clitoris.  As his tongue touched me there, insinuating into my
pucker I trembled again.  With his tongue just inside me, the sensation was
too powerful that I could not resist, and I came, really hard.  I knew that
we had found a new place and set of sensations to explore.
   The End
   
  
A day at the tennis