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Epilogue - Allison becomes mistress, Alex becomes nanny

Of course lying on top of a boner on the relatively hard plastic of a resort lounge isn't the most comfortable thing to do. And with Ellen bringing her hand across and resting it idly on my butt while just occasionally letting her fingers drift down between my legs and finger the back of my balls, waiting for it to go down wasn't working either.

It eventually settled to a half mongrel; enough that I would risk turning over and sitting up with my legs raised onto the seat and my knees held firmly together. I had to look back to my teenage years to remember a time when I had so much trouble avoiding the public display of an erection.

And Ellen still wasn't making it any easier.

By now she'd laid her chair flat and was lying face up on it with her legs spread as wide as the lounge would permit; very much sunning her pussy. Try as I might to focus on the Financial Times paper I'd hunted out for myself, and was partly reading to have something to hide the bulge in my swimwear, the sight of Ellen was a total distraction.

The small triangles of her bikini top left a generous amount of cleavage flesh which exaggerated the size of her breasts and drew the eye up to the place where her tightened nipples pushed out the unlined material struggling to cover them. From there the eye was drawn down the length of her flat stomach to where it disappeared under the waistband of her bikini pants. Or rather only half disappeared, given her bikini bridge actually let me peak down the side of her mons almost as far as the leg hem.

But the thing that was really doing my head in and enlarging my cock was the sight of the crotch of her bikini pants. Even from the angle I was looking - or maybe because of it, since the turn of her mons made it really obvious - I could see that the dimple that usually ran through it, and delineated her crease, had become two distinct and more obvious dimples separated by a hollow.

That and the nipples told me she was aroused. Significantly aroused, if past viewings were anything to go by. And just around the turn of her mons and therefore teasingly out of my sight, there'd be a slight bulge in that hollow where her swollen bud was pushing against it.

Even as a male, I have to acknowledge we're strange, visually obsessed, creatures. Just a few hours ago I'd sucked and fucked everything hidden by that bikini that it was appropriate to do so. I'd seen it all uncovered and could take her by the hand and lead her to where I could uncover it again. And yet the tease factor of that 'fuck me' bikini she was wearing had me with a raging bulge in my swimwear which, if you'll excuse the expression, I wasn't really in any hurry to fuck into submission.

The visual alone was flooding my body with pleasure in just being able to uninhabitably stare at it. I don't know if it's testosterone, but certainly something was being built up inside me. Something that was replenishing whatever had been drained by Amy's demands over the last 24 hours. The slightly embarrassing thing was Ellen knew this. She and the others perfectly understood the way the male mind works - or mine anyway, if others don't want to be joined in my admission - and was playing me for it.

And Ellen wasn't helping things at all by having her hand over on my thigh, touching up the side of my cock whenever she felt it going too soft. Nor by having dragged my hand over onto her lower stomach where, she knew I knew, I could drive her crazy just by tracing my finger up and down between her navel and the top of her bikini. And whenever my hand was too still for too long, hers would give it a push along to keep tracing.

Perhaps things reached a new height of cheekiness when I noticed Ellen surreptitiously look both ways and across the pool to see who was watching, then capture the finger stroking her stomach in her hand.

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