“What are you wearing?”

That’s how the conversation started off.  Most girls would have been offended. I wasn’t most girls.

Day one in Mexico. More specifically, in Cancun.  My key search phrases when googling places to stay had been ‘adult’s only’ and ‘clothing optional’.  I had a week off and wanted to show off a new bikini. That’s a lie. I wanted to show off my body in my new bikini. My porn-star body, according to an ex-boyfriend.

“Little early for a wakeup call,” I told him, drowsily eyeing the coffee making on the counter across the room.

“Depends on where you are.”

Sliding out of bed I pulled the curtains aside. The sun was up and it looked to be a nice day.

“So what are you wearing?”

I blushed at that. I also woke up a little. We’d had a long history of phone sex and this is how it usually started.

“Black cotton panties and a white cotton PJ top. Five buttons.”

He always asked about the buttons so I’d learned to beat him to the punch, so to speak.

“Sounds lovely.  Panties damp?”

I paused, sucking my lower lip between my teeth and biting down softly as I glanced between my slightly parted thighs before answering in a whisper.

“They are now.”

There was silence on the other end for a few minutes. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. Taking his cock out, perhaps. Stroking it until it was hard.  That was my guess. As always, I waited for him to break the silence, simply sitting there full of anticipation, my pulse slowly elevating with each passing moment. I always hated this part. I hated waiting, my imagination wandering into uncharted territory. What did he have planned for me? Would he let me cum this time or would he just tease me and leave me unfulfilled. Sometimes he gave me assignments to do during the day. The last time he’d told me to go commando while wearing a short skirt for the rest of the day. Little things like that. Things that kept me horny.  At the end of the day, he’d called me and listened as I masturbated for him as he called me all sorts of nasty names, not letting me cum, forced to listen to him as he did.

“All over a picture of you,” he’d said, afterward. “The one you sent me. You in your cute little sundress, lifting it up to show off your freshly waxed pussy.”

I’d only waxed it because he’d asked me to, knowing it would please him.

“You in your room?” he finally asked, startling me out of my reverie.

“Oui.”

“Where?”

“Sitting on my bed, looking out the second-floor window.”

“Good. I want you to put your hand over your panties, Bunny. No playing. Just rest your fingers over your delightfully damp panties. Over your pussy. Will you do that for me?”

He didn’t need to ask. He already knew I would but it was the game we played. Him politely taking charge.  Never pushing and yet still leading.

“Oui,” I answered softly, doing as directed, spreading my legs a little wider as I rested my hand over my pussy, my cell phone in the other.

“How does that feel?”

“Nice, I guess. A little naughty. I can feel my dampness growing with my fingertips.”

“You’re making me hard.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. And the hunger. I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed our ‘conversations’.  And he wasn’t the only one smiling.

“Good. Put on your speaker phone, Bunny.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it, and switched my phone over, setting it beside me on the unmade bed, enjoying the view from my second-story hotel room. I could see the pool from here. Already, there were people sunbathing topless with a cocktail at their side. Swimming too. I glanced at the walkway leading past it to the gardens. If they looked up they could see me, thought I was far enough away from the window that They’d probably only see me from the waist up.  Palm leaves stirred in the breeze, partially blocking the view of the beach farther out and a pair of yellow and black birds flew past. I was pretty sure they were orioles and I could just make out several hummingbirds flittering amongst the flowers below.

“Now put your hand inside your panties and tell me how wet you are.”

Blushing, I complied, slipping my fingers into the waistband of my panties. I knew the rules. Do exactly as told and no more. If he’d wanted me to finger myself or play with my clit, he’d have told me. I could feel the creamy juices of my cunt against my middle finger as I rested it between my outer lips, poised and eager to slip inside of me.

I let out a soft moan and he chuckled, making me blush even harder.

“Slut,” he teased.

“Oui,” I agreed breathlessly. “je suis une sale fille.”

“English, please,” he corrected me.

“I am a dirty girl,” I replied, a slight tremble in my voice at my admission.

“You are my dirty girl, Bunny.”

“Oui.”

“Unbutton the top button. Keep your hand in your panties. I don’t want you to take it out unless I tell you. Understood?”

I didn’t bother with a reply. He knew I’d obey him. Knew that I’d do exactly as told, no matter what. It fumbled the button undone, showing off a little cleavage. Nothing salacious. I could feel my nipples stiffening beneath the thin cotton, swelling as they became engorged. The top was tight enough so that they made small dents in the material.

“Go ahead and put your finger in your pussy for me. Your middle finger. Slip it in as far as you can and fuck yourself with it. Slowly. Take your time. I have all morning.”

All morning? How long was he planning on teasing me like this? I still had no idea if there would be an orgasm at the end of the rainbow or just a lot of frustration. Outside the sun was creepy up on the horizon, taking its time, casting its rays into my room. Making it easier to see in, perhaps. My breath caught at the thought. The window took up the entire wall. At least the drapes weren’t open very wide. I thought about mentioning that and decided against it. At least for now.

I like masturbating a lot and I’ve become very good at teasing myself past a slow simmer to a prolonged edging until I can’t stand it anymore and erupt in a volcanic orgasm. There have been days, self-indulgent days when I’d lain in bed and given myself over to orgasm after orgasm. My record was upwards of over a dozen over the course of six hours. At some point it becomes very hard to keep track.

And so I started masturbating for him. Taking my time, pushing my fingers slowly into my very juicy pussy, and then pulling it almost all the way out again. I am sure he could hear my breaths become heavier and louder as I went. I was panting a little after a few minutes of this. It felt so pleasurable. Of course, he told me to stop much to early for it to be anything more than pleasurable.

“Bastard,” I breathed, not too happy about being interrupted.

He just laughed, teasing me.

“What happened to my submissive little bunny?”

I felt my cheeks warm as I blushed.

“Sorry,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you put another finger into that pretty little cunt of yours, slut?”

I liked it when he called me that. Some girls might think it degrading. Perhaps that is why it turned me on so much.

“Yes, Sir,” I murmured without thinking, much to his apparent amusement.

“That’s more like it, Bunny.  That’s my good little girl.”

I blushed even harder as I did as I was told, adding a second finger to my creamy pussy.  He hadn’t said to fuck myself again. So I didn’t. I just held I there, enjoying the way it stretched my me out a little.

“Now undo the rest of your buttons. Keep your top on, though. For now.”

Again, I fumbled with them one at a time, using just my left hand, aware that, while no one looking in could see what my right hand was doing, they could probably tell what my left hand was doing. Not that they could see my tits. Those were still mostly covered as long as I didn’t move around. I realized that my nipples were beginning to ache. A familiar feeling. Mine tend towards being sensitive and noticeably swollen when I’m aroused, sometimes painfully so. Unable to help myself I let out another small moan.

“Nipples hard, Bunny?”

He knew my body well. Too well. We’d been playing this game for a little under a year now.   There wasn’t any set schedule. He’d just call when he felt like it. Sometimes he’d call every day. A few times he’d called several times on the same day. Or there were the times he wouldn’t call for weeks, my anticipation building until every time my phone rang my pussy would cream up. Pavlov’s drooling cunt he’d said with a chuckle when I’d told him about it.

“Oui. Yes. They ache.”

“Perfect. Can you be seen from where you are?”

“From my waist up. Probably.”

“I want you to sit closer to the window for me. Maybe a stool or something. Can you do that?”

There was a small leather ottoman shaped like a turtle in front of the sofa.

“Yes. I have to go get it, though.”

“Why don’t you do that. I’ll wait. But, before you do that, make sure the curtains are all the way open.”

I caught my breath. I would be on full display. Not just from the waist up. All of me.

“Please don’t make me,” I whimpered, aware that my panties were no longer just damp. I felt my pussy flooding, soaking the gusset, turning the cotton a darker shade of black.

“If you want our game to continue, you’ll do what you're told.” This time his voice was stern, sending shivers through me. “Or I could just hang up now. Is that what you want?”

“Non,” I replied quickly, shaking my head vigorously.

“Then be a good girl and do what I say.”

Taking a deep breath I got up and opened the curtains all the way, letting the sun in and illuminating the bed. And me.

And so, as he waited, I fetched the ottoman and placed it in front of the window, pushing it up against the glass. I suddenly felt like an exhibit on display. An animal at the zoo. I glanced downward. No one had noticed as far as I could tell. Of course, there really wasn’t much to see.

“Sit on it.”

“Kneeling would be better, I think?”

“That’s fine. Kneel then. Oh, and take your top off first.”

He said it like it was an afterthought although I was sure he’d planned it like that. Taking a deep breath I shrugged out of my top and tossed it on the bed. I didn’t really mind my tits being on display. I actually enjoyed going topless in public. It was a turn-on for me. It was everything else that had me concerned. The things in my imagination. Like me masturbating for an audience.

“You comfortable, Bunny?”

“Oui,” I replied, settling down on the ottoman, my ass resting on my heels, my legs spread as far apart as I could manage.

“Would you like to play with your clit?”

“Oh, yes. Please?”

I’d realized I’d voiced it as a question, turning what little control I had over to him, knowing I’d reached the point of no turning back.

“Go ahead. Remember. Good girls don’t come. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

“Oui.”

“That’s what I thought. Go ahead. Don’t be shy.”

At least he let me keep my panties on. Before I started I wet my finger in my mouth. The finger I’d had in my cunt, tasting myself as I wet it, my heart beating a little quicker against my ribs as I reached into my waistband and began rubbing my swollen nub gently. Sometimes it was nice to go hard and rough and bring myself to a quick and almost violent climax. Not this time. He liked me to take my time and make it last and I liked to please him even at those times I hated him for what he made me do.

“Is anyone watching?”

“Non. I don’t think so?”

“Too bad. I know all about your exhibitionist steak. I am sure that someone will notice eventually and stop to watch the show you’re putting on for them. Maybe if you took your panties off.”

“Is that an order?” I asked, my heart seeming to pause for half a beat before it began rapidly beating once more.

“Think of it as a suggestion, Bunny.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I unfolded my legs and stood, just long enough to push my thumbs into my waistband and peel them down my thighs, past my knees, and over my calves, stepping out of them, aware that I was now standing in front of the huge window completely nude.

“I took them off,” I told him, trembling, more with excitement than fear. Looking down I noticed a couple pausing on the walk below, his hand around her forearm as I pulled her around and pointed.

“Lick them. I want you to taste yourself.”

“Someone’s noticed.”

“Good. Make a show of it then.”

I knelt again, spreading my legs wide, lifting myself up a little so that they could get a look at my pussy as I rubbed my clit. I watched as the girl clapped her hand over her mouth. I didn’t think it was in shock. It was more like she was trying to stifle a giggle.

“I’m being watched,” I whimpered.

“Good. By whom?”

“Couple. About my age. She’s pretty. Wearing a bikini top and shorts. Light brown hair, tall. He’s blonde. Mustache. Muscular.”

“Why don’t you pinch your nipple for me. Hard. I want to hear you gasp with pain.”

My attention on my watchers, I used my free hand and, using my thumb and forefinger, pinched it relentlessly, breathing hard as pain washed through my tender nub, finally letting out a gasp as I released it and blood poured back in.

“Oh, fuck,” I cried out, my eyes rolling slightly back in my head, lashes fluttering.

“They still watching?”

I glanced down, and nodded, then realizing he couldn’t see me, replied.

“Oui. She’s blowing a kiss?”

“Maybe you’ll come across them sometime during the week. Think they’d recognize you?”

I felt a heady rush of fear washing through me, upsetting my tummy briefly.

“I don’t know.”

“You want them to, though. Don’t you.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. We both knew the answer to that question.

“They still watching?”

“Oui.”

“Good. I want you to press your pussy against the window. Tits too. Rub yourself all over it. Smear your creamy little cunt all over the glass while they watch.”

 “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. And you know you want to.”

It was true. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, especially to him, the thought of pressing my pussy and my tits to the glass pane and giving them a good look as I ground myself against it was exciting. I felt my inhibitions fading as I continued to rub my clit.

“I’m going to. I feel like such a slut.”

“Because you are.”

I didn’t bother refuting him. He wasn’t wrong.

I stood, hands pressed against the glass, gazing downwards, trying to catch their eyes, a hint of a smile for them as I leaned forward and began rubbing myself against the window mashing my tits into the glass, and smearing my pussy against it as best as I could. It felt nice. Glancing down I could see telltale wetness on the pane. Probably too far away for them to tell, but I was hopeful.

And then, without any prompting I pushed the ottoman aside and knelt, my nose brushing the pane as I began to lick it, tasting myself as a thrill washed through me. Tasting my own juices while they watched. I felt deliciously dirty. When I was done it was my turn to blow them a kiss.

“What happened?”

“I did as you asked,” I said, giggling breathlessly watching the girl clap her hand over her mouth again   I couldn’t tell, but I thought she might have winked.  

“Dirty little bunny.”

“Oui,” I agreed, blushing.

“Would you like to cum?”

I thought about it for less than half a second, imagining them watching as I fingered myself to an orgasm.

“Please?” I pleaded suddenly impatient.

“Go ahead.”

This time I wasn’t being directed to take it slow and tease myself. I was being given free rein to do as I pleased.

I pressed myself against the window again, my eyes on them as I slipped my fingers into my cunt and began to fuck myself as fast and as hard as I could. I wanted to cum as quickly as I could.

It didn’t take long. I was so keyed up that I was almost taken by surprise when I climaxed, thrusting a pair of fingers into my dripping wet cunt as I humped my hand, face pressed against the window, fogging it up a little. I’d lost track of the couple, to intent on pleasuring my pussy. Not that I was concerned they’d left before the show was over.

I must have been loud. I heard him laughing over the phone.

“What a performance, Bunny.”

It was only then that I had the grace to be embarrassed. Still panting, I looked downward. She was clapping appreciatively. A moment later he joined her. And then they continued on, but not before she cast a look over her shoulder and smiled. Smiling back I quickly closed the curtains, shutting the sun out, my heart pounding in my chest as the room went dim.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Oui,” I answered quietly, sitting back down on the bed and picking my phone up. He deserved a proper thank you. Laying back, my head resting on my pillow, I spread my legs to show off my sopping wet cunt and took a selfie.  

Thank you I typed, attached my photo, and hit send.