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Message-ID: <43933asstr$1060956605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Daphne Conrad" <dconrad25@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} (RP) A New Dawn - Chapter 4 (M+/F+ exhib)
Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2003 10:10:05 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

A New Dawn - Chapter 4

Previously - In Chapter 1 Dawn has recounted to Lisa the story of her first
sexual adventure, which occurred on a train in Italy at the age of 19. She
stayed that night with the train conductor Marcello and his wife Antonia. In
Chapter 2 Antonia has introduced Dawn to her lover Frederico, who has made
love to her. He has then encouraged her in some exhibitionism in a
restaurant. In Chapter 3 Dawn has an exhibitionist experience in a shop. 
This chapter continues the story, with Lisa arriving the following night. 
This story continues from there. Please see the ASSM web site
and search for "New Dawn" for the previous chapters.
Note for US readers - in UK usage 'fanny' is equivalent to pussy, although
perhaps a bit less offensive.

_________________________________________________

Lisa arrived on time. She was wearing a tight white top, which crossed-over 
at the breasts, creating a curved triangle framing each breast. She had on a 
short skirt and knee-length boots. Phillip opened the door to her and said 
immediately, "You look great Lisa. I hope you didn't go to work like that, 
you'll give those academics heart attacks."
She laughed, "No, I thought if Dawn was going to tell one of her stories 
that I should dress appropriately."
Dawn came out of the bedroom, wearing a loose blouse half-unbuttoned and 
jeans. She too commented on Lisa's dress. "Looking nice tonight Lisa. That 
top shows off your chest well."
"Errm, thanks," Lisa said. She was unused to such matter-of-fact 
observations about her body.
"Phillip is getting the barbecue going, so let's have a drink first. 
Phillip, stop drooling." Dawn shook her head in mock admonishment. "Sorry 
Lisa, a bit of boob flesh and he forgets his manners."
"Yes, drinks" Phillip said, going to the kitchen.
They talked about work for a while as Phillip cooked some kebabs and steaks 
on the barbecue. Lisa munched on the salad on the table. Every time she 
leant forward her breasts squeezed together, threatening to flow out from 
the confines of her top, like toothpaste from a tube. It was noticed by both 
Dawn and Phillip that she seemed to do this more often than might be 
ascribed to chance.
Once the food was on the table and more wine opened Dawn asked "Shall I 
begin? It gets quite steamy tonight, mind you."
Lisa spurted her wine "What, and the other stories were mild?"
"As long as you're prepared.
"I didn't go directly to Naples, I think I was still reluctant to 
acknowledge that my trip had changed irrevocably. As the train left Florence 
I realized that I hadn't seen anything of the city. I had intended to visit 
art galleries and churches, to appreciate the great renaissance works. I 
didn't know much about art (I still don't if I'm honest), but as a 
pretentious teenager I was sure it would appeal to me. Instead I had spent 
my time having sex with strangers and flashing my tits around. It occurred 
to me that I may just as well have gone on a two-week shagging holiday to 
Benidorm like all the other teenagers. This was quite depressing since I 
thought myself so superior to that. I tried consoling myself that what I had 
done was qualitatively different, that it wasn't the same thing as any 
nineteen year old bimbo on holiday shagging anything she could."
"Oh, I think you're being hard on yourself," Lisa objected. "After all I 
wouldn't be interested in the stories of a booze and sex holiday - they're 
boring. This is much more unusual."
Flashing a quick acknowledgement to Phillip, Dawn patted Lisa's hand. 
"That's nice of you to say. At the time I had one of those attacks of 
self-doubt. Anyway, I went to Rome for a couple of days. I did all the usual 
tourist things, saw the Sistine Chapel, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi 
Fountain. And no sex. Not even flirting. It was nice, but somehow I couldn't 
help feeling a bit patronising towards the other inter-railers I met. They 
thought that this was the big deal, but for me it seemed so tame now, as if 
I had been given an insight into a secret world and from that point it is 
difficult not to feel almost sympathy for those who don't know. A nineteen 
year-old is an enormously egotistical beast, and to be told over the course 
of two or three days how special, beautiful and different you are creates 
some sort of monster. I don't know if others detected it, but I think now I 
must have been condescending to all of them. Never mind, one has to go 
through these things.
"So, although Rome was interesting and exciting in its own way, it confirmed 
for me that my trip had changed. This was no longer enough. But I didn't 
know what to do next, I couldn't see how to create the sort of situation I 
had enjoyed in Florence. I dashed off a quick postcard to Antonia, promising 
to write later. Then I went to Capri. I thought that because it had some 
connection with Florence, because Frederico had arranged it, then this was 
where the story would continue.
"I found the bar without a problem. It was in a quiet part of the island at 
the end of Bay of Marina Piccola, with a small courtyard out the front and 
inside a bar along one wall, with four tables lined up on the opposite one. 
As I approached there were a couple of tables occupied, but it wasn't that 
busy. A middle-aged man was wiping down the bar. He wore an apron and smoked 
a bedraggled cigarette.
'Hello', I said, 'are you Giuseppe?'
"He looked up, his eyes not focusing on me. He looked tired. I waited for 
the question to register. His look coalesced into the present. 'Giuseppe? 
Yes, that's me.' He didn't seem pleased by the knowledge.
'I'm Dawn,' I continued chirpily.
"Again there was no recognition. He just stared at me. He seemed nice 
enough, just a little vague, or harassed. He was thinning on top and 
slightly overweight. A tobacco stain browned his greying moustache. He wiped 
his rather messy hands down the stained apron. He looked back at me and then 
finally remembered. 'Oh, yes, Frederico called. Good, good, you are here.' 
He handed me the cloth. 'Please wipe the tables and ashtrays.' With that he 
disappeared out the back of the bar where I heard lots of crashing and water 
running. This was a man with a lot of jobs to do. I sighed and got to work. 
I wondered how someone as suave and impressive as Frederico was friends with 
this nervous, grubby man. You couldn't imagine them sitting at a bar 
together, but what did I know?
"Over the next few days I discovered the reason for Giuseppe's harassed 
state. Maria was Giuseppe's wife. She was a big, formidable woman, who eyed 
me suspiciously, her arms folded across her ample chest. Her long, brown 
hair draped down over her floral dress, separating at every curve and bulge, 
and thus accentuating these. She made me nervous, but she made everyone 
nervous, especially Giuseppe. Silence seemed to emanate from her 
considerable bulk, a dominating silence that destroyed the words in your 
throat before they were formed. We all moved around her quietly, not meeting 
her gaze. As I first thought, Giuseppe was a kindly, but henpecked man. His 
face looked to be in a permanent wince, like when someone aims at an elastic 
band at you. I caught him looking at me a few times in the first few days. 
When he saw that I noticed his lingering stare he didn't look embarrassed at 
me, instead his immediate reaction was to quickly look at his wife, as if it 
was her who had caught him looking.
"The bar had a steady but not excessive trade. I worked from lunch until 
closing time, which was whenever the last person left. It wasn't a late 
night resort, but even so I was still there until two some nights. Giuseppe 
or Maria did all of the cooking so I just served. I was staying in a shared 
apartment with an Australian girl, who also worked in a bar.
"We had some locals at the bar and the usual holiday crowd, mainly couples. 
For a week not much happened. I worked hard and was tired every night. On my 
day off I went sightseeing. Capri really is beautiful, you should go if ever 
you get the chance. I borrowed some snorkelling equipment from the 
Australian and had a lovely day. But as I had begun to suspect in Rome, I 
wasn't satisfied. That night, lying in bed, I became quite concerned. It was 
as if my adventures in Florence had forever tainted things for me. I could 
no longer enjoy things for what they were. Prior to Florence this would have 
been an adventure in itself and I would have been congratulating myself on 
what a brave, free-minded young thing I was. But it all seemed a bit pale, I 
felt I was waiting for something else to happen. All this was the backdrop.
"I wanted to continue the development that had started in Florence, but as 
yet I didn't know how to initiate these things. Without Antonia there to 
guide me, I was caught between my old self and my new self. Like all changes 
this transition period can be difficult to negotiate, and often results in 
relapse. Like people who suddenly decide to get fit, they'll be enthusiastic 
for a few weeks, going down the gym or whatever, but once that initial 
period wears off, they either settle into it as a new habit or they revert 
to their old ways. I was probably only a week or two away from deciding that 
Florence was just a teenage experiment as I made my stumbling way towards 
being an adult. I thought of telephoning Antonia and telling her this, 
seeking her advice, but I knew that this would be an admission of failure. I 
had found people who thought I was interesting, adventurous and special. I 
hadn't really been appreciated like that before - as an adult and I didn't 
want to jeopardise it. I had a feeling they were rather overestimating me, 
so I didn't want to give them any reason to doubt me. Having promised to 
write to Antonia I felt that my next letter to her would essentially define 
who I was going to be. I had the car encounter with Marcello to provide a 
detailed account of, but she would know about this already. I needed 
something else. What I said previously about wanting something, anything to 
help define me at this delicate stage in my life I felt particularly keenly 
at this time. If I had met a nice young Italian I would have been busy 
learning Italian and planning how to go and live there. I see that a lot in 
young middle-class kids now - they have everything so they need to find 
something to desire, something to make them feel different. I just happened 
to find sex.
"The letter to Antonia began to grow in significance for me. Every day that 
I had nothing to write its importance increased. I stopped writing in my 
diary, because it was a reminder that I should be writing that letter, but I 
had nothing to say. I thought about making something up, but I knew once I 
did that I would never progress. I thought I must be able to have a holiday 
fling in a beautiful place like this, like everyone else does. But that too 
wasn't what I was after. It had to be something special. So I just waited, 
not knowing what to do.
"So when Thursday came around I was feeling a bit, well confused. Giuseppe 
was away for the day, visiting his mother in Bari, which he did every 
Thursday. This left just Maria and me. I dreaded it. She was even grumpier 
than usual, having to cope with all the cooking. She didn't trust me to do 
much, which made her task all the more difficult. She kept barking 
instructions and orders from the kitchen. We were busy at lunchtime and I 
messed up some orders. I think she got them wrong, but she blamed me anyway. 
It quietened down in the afternoon, then we had an early evening rush, but 
by eleven most people had left to take in the sunset.
"A fat, rather mean looking Italian man who often came by was seated at the 
table by the door. I had noticed Giuseppe, and even Maria, being 
particularly attentive to him and rather deferential. We also had a young 
German couple in, who had been in for the past two nights, so were probably 
on holiday. Apart from this there were two Italian lads, probably my age, 
who had arrived on their scooters and drank coffee very slowly. They talked 
animatedly with stereotypical exaggerated gestures, but became quiet and coy 
whenever I approached. In the past Giuseppe might have let me go home with 
such a small crowd, as he had to stay to lock up. But given the mood Maria 
was in I wasn't going to ask, so I sat at the bar, thinking about my 
predicament and composing a deliberately nonchalant and ambiguous letter to 
Antonia that would give the impression I was so busy I had barely had time 
to write it, and would go in to more details later. At least that would get 
it off my mind.
"Fat man waved his hand for some more service. Maria had served him all 
night, but she was busy so I took his order. As I collected his glass he 
leant back in his chair, to give me an obvious appraisal. He was quite open 
and unashamed about it, as if he were considering buying a vase or 
something. He had slicked back hair, which he now ran his hand through 
several times. He pouted his slug-like bottom lip, nodding his large head in 
what I suppose was appreciation. I was wearing some green shorts and a white 
button-up vest top. I wasn't at my sexiest, but the motion of leaning over 
stretched the fabric of my top against my breast, specifying a clear 
contour. I ignored his stares and wiped the table. He said he would like to 
order some food and when I came around to his side to look at the menu as he 
ordered, he ran a hand up my leg. I knocked it aside with a bash of my hip 
and took the order - some bread and oils, with some Italian meats. I waltzed 
back in, angry at his attitude. I was met by the damning gaze of Maria. I 
thought she was going to blame me, accuse me of flirting with customers and 
that this was not that sort of establishment. Instead, she pulled me around 
the back of the bar by the hand. I was getting ready to slap her and walk 
out, when she pushed me down in a seat.
'Do you know who that is?' she demanded, her arms crossed in front of her 
like the formidable matriarch.
"I shrugged, feeling myself revert to the moody teenager again. It was 
impossible to feel anything other than childlike in her presence. I had 
noticed this with everyone - customers, friends, delivery men - they all 
seemed to lose their own will and ability to make decisions, through fear of 
arousing her wrath. So they became meek, awaiting her orders, engaging in 
minor forms of rebellion. 'No,' I pouted. 'Don't care either.'
'He is Don Aitello. He is a very powerful man around here. If he wanted to 
he could have this bar closed like that.' She snapped her fingers 
aggressively. I just stared at her fingers, as if they held the answer. She 
continued, 'if he wants to touch your leg, then what does it matter? You let 
him.'
"By this I wondered if she meant he was the local mafia, or just an 
influential businessman, or whether the distinction between the two was 
somewhat blurred down here.'But Maria' I protested, 'I am not going to let a 
man grope me just because it will help your business.'
'I know what kind of girl you are,' she said, looking me up and down with a 
sneer. I wondered then if Frederico had told Giuseppe about what I had done 
in Florence, and if Giuseppe would have had the courage to tell Maria. I 
didn't think so, maybe she just sensed it in me, or maybe she just viewed 
all young English girls that way. Whatever it was she felt confident enough 
of her view to reach down and undo two buttons of my top to reveal some 
cleavage. She nodded once, satisfied, and then indicated I should leave.
"I went to serve the young couple, who ordered some more drinks. I felt Don 
Aitello watching me all the way across the little courtyard. He definitely 
noticed I had a bit more on show and with that arrogance of a powerful man 
turned his chair around to blatantly watch as I took the orders from the 
Germans. I'm not sure if they noticed I was a bit more undone than 
previously. She was skinny and tall, and everything about her seemed to be 
formed from clear angles. She had a strong jaw line which extended to an 
apex at her chin. Her nose was sharp and her lips created from three 
triangles. Her hair was cut in a Cleopatra bob, with perfect right angles at 
the temples and at the base of her neck. Even her eyes were angular, two 
unblinking diamonds. All this geometry gave her an unusual beauty. Her 
husband had scruffy short hair, and an intense look about him. He was the 
quiet one of the two, and she seemed the outgoing one. They talked to me for 
a bit, and I got to practice some of my German. While she asked me what I 
was doing here and that sort of stuff, I noticed her husband fix that 
intense gaze on my cleavage. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I 
deliberately half-turned so the two halves of the top were pulled in 
different directions, giving him a better view. Then I left to fetch the 
drinks.
"Inside Aitello's food was ready. Maria handed me the tray, looked at my 
breasts, moving her mouth as if considering something. I didn't move. 
Finally, she gave a firm nod, reached out and undid another button. Even 
without bending over the top half of my breasts were now displayed, with 
some of my black bra visible.
'So this is how it continues,' I thought and a flush of excitement went 
through me. Maria noticed my sudden redness, and for the first time ever, 
gave me a reassuring nod.
"I took the food out to Don Aitello. He licked his lips in a lecherous way, 
leaving me with no doubt it wasn't the food that inspired this gesture. I 
kept my gaze away from his, making sure I acted normally. I didn't know 
which way this was going to play out, so I needed to keep some distance.
"As I put the tray down and unloaded the plates, he pushed himself back in 
his chair again, his large, solid belly lurching upwards. He nodded his 
approval as my breasts squeezed together as I put the last plate down. He 
was so arrogant and oily that I wanted to slap him, but it was also 
exciting, being on show like that. I needed the other people in the bar 
though, in a way they made it safer. I felt trusting of the German couple 
and rather superior to the two nervous Italians, so I felt as though they 
were on my side. If it had just been Don Aitello and Maria I don't think I 
would have gone along with it.
"Anyway, I stood up and asked him if there was anything else he wanted, 
which I regretted as soon as I said it, since it sounded like a line from a 
bad porno film. He smirked, perhaps also recognising its corniness. He 
looked me up and down again, I was beginning to feel like a piece of 
merchandise. I looked bored and waited impatiently, tapping my foot. Finally 
he shook his head, and reached up stroking my thigh. I flinched but then 
stood still, neither giving him encouragement nor pulling away, but staying 
impassive. His hand went up and down lightly a few times, then he turned me 
around and with a pat of my behind, sent me back to the bar. I put as much 
confidence and swagger into my walk back as I could. I knew the others in 
the bar had seen what had happened and I didn't want to seem like the meek 
little girl.
"Inside I was greeted by something I had never seen before - a large 
friendly smile on the face of Maria.'Well done,' she said.'He was pleased.'
"I huffed and feigned disinterest, 'who cares?'
"She raised an eyebrow, registering what I wasn't sure. Then she gave me the 
drinks for the German couple.
"I took these out, being careful not to look at Don Aitello. The Germans 
both gave me a warm smile, and I couldn't help reciprocating.
'Did you mind that pig putting his hands on you?' the woman asked.
"I shrugged. 'Not really. It doesn't mean much to me.'
"Then her husband surprised me. It's always the quiet, intense ones isn't 
it? He said in a calm monotone, as if he were telling me that he preferred 
tea to coffee, 'we like your breasts.'
"Now over the years I've had a few drunken men say to me things like 'you've 
got great tits', and nothing could be less of a turn-on. I expect you've had 
the same Lisa. But when this man said this I felt a warm flush. I think it 
was that 'we' that excited me. It meant they'd been discussing me and with 
my new ego to feed, I relished that. I looked down at my breasts. 'Thankyou' 
I said, trying to match his tone.
'Why did you undo your top? Was it for him?' the woman asked.
"I didn't know what to say. I didn't really know myself. 'The boss wants to 
keep him happy,' I said.
'Will you show him more?' the man asked.
'Would you like me to?' I countered.
'Yes,' he replied, unfazed. 'And whatever you do, Claudia will match you.' 
He indicated his wife, who beamed at me. She undid three buttons on her 
blouse to show her agreement. She didn't have large breasts, but she used 
them well.
'It will be fun,' she said, adjusting her khaki top to show off more of her 
upper chest. Two defined clavicles protruded from the otherwise smooth 
surface. I wanted to stroke them. I looked across and Don Aitello had been 
watching this all with a keen interest.
"I went to go back inside again. As I passed Don Aitello his hand whipped 
out surprisingly quickly and caught mine. He said something in Italian, 
which I didn't understand, but I caught the word Maria, and guessed he 
wanted me to send her out. As he said this, holding my wrist with one hand 
his other one greedily mauled my bum. I couldn't help it, but after the 
conversation with the Germans I was turned on, and I pressed my bum back on 
to his hand.
"The two lads called me over before I got inside. As they ordered two more 
coffees a tentative hand touched my thigh. Having seen the fat man touch me 
up, they obviously wanted to find out if it was open to everyone. I didn't 
respond and the hand got braver, moving up my outside thigh and then rolling 
inwards to brush the apex of my legs. I snapped them shut and walked away.
"Inside Maria had seen everything and was looking puzzled. I turned my back 
to her and undid my top. I removed my bra and did my top back up again to 
the same point as before. I undid some lower buttons and tied the bottom 
half up, so my belly was exposed. Then I went up to the bar and gave Maria 
the order for the coffees.
'Don Aitello wants to see you,' I told her.
"She hadn't moved after I had removed my bra and was staring at my chest. 
With all the groping I had been receiving my nipples were prominent through 
the top. Suddenly she snapped her gaze back to my face. 'What? Don Aitello? 
Why?' It was the first time I had seen her flustered. With my last act I had 
taken control of the situation, she was no longer its director, and this 
unnerved her.
'I don't know. Maybe he wants to see you like me. In which case you'll need 
to show a bit more.' Feeling my new power I reached over the bar and 
unbuttoned her dress. She was wearing a cream floral dress and when I opened 
it up to the halfway point it revealed a massive expanse of flesh. Around 
her upper breasts there were some stretch marks, like striations on a 
landmass. Her cleavage seemed impossibly deep and dark. I wondered if I had 
gone too far. She was, after all, a conservative Italian woman. But she 
didn't acknowledge what I had done, instead busying herself with the 
coffees. She handed these to me and then she went outside. Before I followed 
her I picked up my bra, and hidden from the view of the two Italians I waved 
it at the German couple. The woman gave me a thumbs up sign and immediately 
reached around her back to undo her bra, which she removed through the 
sleeve of her top. This act went unnoticed by Don Aitello who was transfixed 
by the mass of boob flesh now approaching him. It was however observed by 
the two Italians who were still staring when I placed the coffees on their 
table. They did a comic double take when they looked away and then noticed 
my now braless state. Between the sexy German, the voluptuous Maria and 
myself they didn't know where to focus and kept shifting their heads, hoping 
not to miss anything. I was watching Maria, so I was turned away from them. 
I felt one hand on my thigh again and another on my bum.
"Maria was leaning forward and giggling like a young girl. Don Aitello's 
hand was on her large thigh. I watched it move upwards, and take the weight 
of one of those substantial breasts. Meanwhile the hand on my thigh had 
worked inwards and was no rubbing my fanny through my shorts. I rocked 
backwards on it ever so slightly. There was now another hand on my thigh and 
one rubbing my back inside my top. Don Aitello undid another of Maria's 
buttons, revealing the huge white bra she wore. He was whispering in her 
ear. Over on the other table, Claudia was standing now, while her husband 
stroked her thighs. The hand rubbing my back now slid its way around the 
front and cupped my left breast.
"Just then Maria and Don Aitello broke apart and signalled for me to come 
over. The hands on me instantly withdrew, like night animals when a torch is 
directed at them. I shuddered from the sudden withdrawal of attention, but 
walked over to Don Aitello. I was incredibly aroused by this time, needless 
to say. I stood in front of him, and smiling at Maria, he stroked my 
stomach, sliding his hand inside the waistband of my shorts. Then he undid 
the button of my shorts. Everybody stopped. I was aware of everyone looking 
at me, motionless. There was an incredible tension in the air. It seemed as 
though people had even stopped breathing. It felt very tangible, the 
excitement, lust and also anticipation from all these participants. It all 
depended on the next action.
"I couldn't bear it any more, so to break it I undid my fly and dropped my 
shorts, pulling down my knickers at the same time. I stepped out of these. 
The deep flame of my bush was now directly in front of Don Aitello's face. 
He just stared at it. I picked up a breadstick and slowly slid it into my 
damp fanny. Then, keeping eye contact with Don Aitello I pulled it out and 
offered the moist end to him. Dumbfounded he bit off a small piece. I now 
undid my top quickly, pulling it open to reveal my flushed chest. I don't 
think my nipples have ever been that extended. I picked up the small dish of 
olive oil from the table and poured it over my breasts. They gleamed in the 
light. I then leant forward, proffering them up to Don Aitello. He slurped 
the oil from them, getting it all around his face. He pulled one of my 
nipples into his mouth and sucked hungrily. One hand now massaged the other 
breast, while the other hand rubbed his crotch.
"I pulled away from him and moved around behind Maria. He made no protest or 
effort to move. I found this extremely exciting, the way this powerful man 
was reduced to a simpleton because of me, the way I had complete authority 
over the situation. Standing behind Maria I reached over her shoulders and 
undid the remaining buttons on her dress. I pulled it open and then, with 
both hands scooped one of her mozzarella breasts out of its bra. It felt 
soft and heavy, like bread dough. I repeated this with the other breast. She 
too offered no resistance. Her huge breasts flopped down onto her stomach. 
The aureola were the size of my head, easily more than a handspand across. 
We all stared at these for a while. I picked up Don Aitello's hands and 
placed them on Maria's breasts. She took in a deep breath. Then he buried 
his face in them, lifting and manipulating this mass of tissue.
"Someone moved behind me and I turned to see Claudia standing in front of 
the two Italians. She wore only her top, which was undone. Her back was to 
me, so I could see her small bum, with a pyramid indentation in each 
buttock. A hand reached around and cupped these, as if they were purposely 
designed hand-holds. Then I felt a hand on my own behind and it reach around 
to my pussy. It was her husband. As he slid his fingers into my slit, I 
arched my neck to kiss him over my shoulder. His other hand was tweaking my 
nipple between index and forefinger. He was naked and I could feel his cock 
pressing urgently into my back.
'Over here,' he said and led me to a chair. He sat on it, and with ease I 
lowered myself onto his penis. It met a brief resistance at the entrance and 
then popped in. We both sighed. We were finally at the place we had been 
anticipating for the past hour or so. We soon worked out a rhythm, so I was 
coming down as he was pushing up and within a minute or so we were both 
panting. I became aware that neither of us was looking at the other. We were 
both interested in what was going on over the other's shoulder. I was 
watching Maria. She was now naked, her dress crumpled on the chair. She was 
lying on her back on the table. Don Aitello had his trousers around his 
ankles. Like many fat men, he seemed to have a small penis. He was standing 
over Maria, masturbating. She was playing with herself also, bucking on the 
table. Each movement sent ripples and wobbles running through her. There 
were folds and curves everywhere on her body, it was an ocean of flesh, and 
it was in a state of constant movement and change.
"I turned around to see what the German was looking at. His wife was facing 
us, her back to one of the Italians who was seated. She was bouncing up and 
down on his cock with great enthusiasm, while simultaneously trying to wank 
off his friend who stood in front of her. In keeping with the rest of her 
appearance her small breasts were sharp cones, topped of with neat nipples 
that accounted for half of the breast. She was very slim and I could see her 
clearly defined hip bones as she jigged up and down. When I looked back, Don 
Aitello was now fucking Maria. Their two excessive flesh accounts pressed 
and melded together, so that it was impossible to tell which fold belonged 
to whom. Maria's head was thrown back in abandon, her powerful legs wrapped 
around the soft behind of Don Aitello. Vibrations, jiggles and wobbles 
undulated through both of them, it was like watching some primordial amoeba 
writhing around.
"I was so engrossed in this unusual sight that I hadn't really been 
concentrating on my own fucking. To my surprise my partner gave a sudden 
grunt, buried his head in my chest and with two quick jolts, climaxed. I 
hadn't even noticed he was near and I certainly hadn't come. I didn't show 
any disappointment, after all I hadn't really shown him any attention. I 
could feel his penis fading inside me, and despite a few more desperate 
bounces on my part it was clear that there was no more for me here, at least 
for a while. When it was polite to do so, I pulled myself off him. To be 
honest I don't think he noticed, and it wasn't anything to do with me that 
made him come. He was transfixed by his wife's performance.
"I made my way over to them now. She was still going up and down on one 
Italian while trying to suck off the other. She wasn't doing very well at 
the second task, because she was so enthusiastically engaged in the first. 
She was moving too much and couldn't keep the cock in her mouth or maintain 
a rhythm for masturbating. The lad winced a couple of times when she pulled 
it too hard. I thought she probably needed some help. I came up behind the 
standing lad and reached around, gently taking his cock from Claudia's 
grasp. Both of them looked relieved. I turned the Italian around and we 
kissed impatiently. I could feel his cock pressing into my stomach, 
twitching with need. As I hadn't come with the German I too was keen to get 
things moving on, so I pulled him down onto the floor. Even in this excited 
state I didn't like the idea of being driven along a hard concrete floor, so 
I pushed him onto his back. He seemed grateful to be guided. He really did 
look a little scared. I think if he had the choice he would have preferred 
not to be here, but he felt as though he had to go along with the moment, it 
was too powerful to resist. So he was thankful for any help in getting 
through it. Maybe he was a virgin. He certainly expected to court girls and 
have months to build up to sex, to have barriers put in his way before 
attaining it. This sudden excess of sex, easily available and all around him 
was unnerving and frightening. But, of course, it was also exciting, beyond 
anything he had ever imagined in his bedroom. I saw all this as I pressed 
him to the floor, and straddled his legs, stroking his chest. The knowledge 
of my experience in these matters made me feel powerful. Although we were 
the same age, I felt unmistakably the lad's superior. It was with these 
thoughts that I lifted myself up and with my hand guided his cock into me. 
It was, I admit, a rather self-indulgent fuck. I performed a bit for him, 
throwing my head back and playing with my tits. I was carried away with the 
notion of being a sex goddess. Sex is like that sometimes, you get carried 
away on a mental riff. It was this that got me excited, more than anything 
the timid Italian did. He seemed to be just enjoying the show, without 
participating much beyond matching my rhythm and stroking my thighs. 
Sometimes sex is about mutual enjoyment and sometimes it's selfish. This was 
definitely the latter.
"It is impossible to describe the impact of the sound. There were grunts, 
squelches, moans, and urgent mutterings all around me. I wasn't even sure 
what ones were coming from me now. It is definitely a way to lose your 
inhibitions. Everyone was too engrossed in what they were doing to worry 
about you. I was speeding up and knew I was close to climaxing. I turned my 
attention to what else was happening in the hope of prolonging it a few 
moments more. Claudia had now finished with the Italian who was sitting, 
smoking and surveying the scene before him. His limp penis hung between his 
legs, gleaming. I could see it make the odd twitch, as the scene demanded 
attention. Claudia was now on a table, her husband fucking her, with her 
legs wrapped around his waist. Don Aitello was standing next to her, rubbing 
her breasts and massaging his penis back to erectness. Maria stood the other 
side of her, also rubbing Claudia's breasts, and possibly her clit also. 
Poor old Claudia was in a state of high emotion, bucking and moaning. I 
thought she was coming, but it just seemed to continue with no indication of 
subsiding.
"This sight really excited me and I felt myself coming. I pulled my Italian 
to me, mauling his face with kisses, telling him to make me come. Then it 
started and I squealed as one, two, three shocks went through me. I think he 
came soon after, as I tried to regain my breath. I rolled off him, chuckling 
and trying to recover. I closed my eyes and relaxed. The afterglow felt so 
soothing. I had a strong sense of real affection for all these people here. 
I felt as though I had created the situation, that we had all gone through a 
strong experience together, like survivors of a train accident. Just as I 
was recovering I felt some hands on my stomach, making circles up to my 
breasts. I opened my eyes to see the second Italian kneeling beside me. His 
rather large cock was now standing erect, and obviously wanting attention. 
'Oh well' I thought, 'I may as well finish the job.'
"I took it in my mouth and gave it some long slow sucks. It tasted strange 
and then I realised that it probably had some of Claudia's come on it. He 
grabbed the back of my head and became rather forceful with his motions, so 
I broke off. I went over to the table and bent forward. He followed and 
positioned his cock at the entrance to my pussy. Having already had sex 
twice I was well lubricated and open, but I still felt an initial stab of 
pain as he eased the large cock head in. Then he slid it up and I could 
really feel it inside me. I gasped and he pulled back, then upwards again 
further this time. I looked over my shoulder and said, 'fuck me' to him. 
This he proceeded to do with long hard strokes. It felt unbelievably good. 
Both of us having come once it took a long time to reach that stage now.
"When we did I knew that I was going to come really hard, and I was almost 
scared of it, knowing it would be intense. So I tried to put it off, but by 
prolonging the lovemaking it just meant the orgasm would be even greater. 
It's like taking acid or something, there is that initial panic that you 
can't undo it, that you are going to have this experience.
"I can't even remember what finally triggered it. I was leaning forward, the 
second Italian still fucking me from behind, his arms around my waist. The 
first one was now standing in front of me, I had my head buried in his chest 
and he was stroking my hair and rubbing my breasts. His actions were 
comfortingly tender in the midst of all this debauchery. Don Aitello was 
masturbating still, watching Claudia and her husband who were still fucking 
on the table. I think Maria was next to me, stroking my back and breasts 
with those broad hands of hers, but I wasn't sure anymore.
"So, I don't know what finally triggered it, maybe it was the fucking, maybe 
the gentle stroking, possibly even the noises coming from the couple. Most 
likely it was just the cumulative effects of all these sensations. I 
couldn't tell what sensation was coming from where, it all became confused. 
I suddenly felt sick, it was an overload and I think I started to panic, 
like a kid who climbs up a tall tree then seeing how high they've come, 
becomes scared to come down. Then it just started happening and I was crying 
and sobbing. I scratched the gentle Italian and took these dramatic gulps of 
air, I just felt I couldn't get enough air in one go, before I needed to 
take another one, like when you can't stop laughing. I was gripping the 
Italian's arms really tightly, I think he must have been in some pain. But 
finally, the sensations began to subside. I have no idea how long it went on 
for, but even when I thought it was finished I would get another ripple, 
making me whimper. Then it was over and my grip went slack. Both Italians 
caught me as I sagged to the floor. They carefully sat me down and I smiled 
weakly.
"Over on the table Claudia was whimpering as her husband collapsed on top of 
her. She had come on her breasts, which I guess was from Don Aitello. I was 
so exhausted, I didn't say goodbye to anyone, just quickly assembled my 
clothing and left. Everyone looked sheepish, quietly getting dressed and 
avoiding eye contact. Only Claudia said anything, smiling 'Ciao' at me with 
a friendly wave.
"I just crashed out when I got home, but the next morning it all came back 
to me. I considered telling my flatmate, but I didn't think she would 
understand. I didn't want to be told I was a disgusting slag just then. The 
truth was, although I did feel a bit sleazy and grubby, I felt alive again. 
I had a bit of an ego rush - I thought I possessed special powers to make 
people act this way. It took me a while to realise it wasn't special powers, 
just a nice pair of tits and a certain willingness.
"I wondered how it would be at work that day. I pranced in, a little late, 
singing out a hello. Marcello was back now and he winced at my 
over-confidence. Maria appeared from the back room, her face harder than 
ever. 'What time is this?' she bellowed.
'But, I..., well,' It was no use, all of my cockiness crumbled away at the 
sight of her immovable expression. It was clear that last night had never 
happened. I sighed apologetically and went about my business. That night I 
wrote a long letter to Antonia. My transformation was now truly complete."
Lisa let out a low whistle. "Pheeeeew. Dawn, I feel exhausted after. And you 
look shattered." She was flushed and fidgety. "I think I need a cigarette."
Dawn did look weary, as if she had relived every emotion. She slumped down 
in her chair, smiling weakly.
"I must admit, it is one of my favourites," Phillip volunteered. "How has it 
left you feeling Lisa?"
There was a silence. Dawn perked up, awaiting Lisa's response. The younger 
girl picked up her wine, a slight tremor in her hand. "To be honest," she 
said, "I'm not sure. Firstly it excited me tremendously, I feel really 
horny. But," she raised her finger here as if to stop the enthusiasm of the 
other two, "it also makes me feel uncomfortable. I'm not used to feeling 
this way in front of other people, to talking like this. It feels strange."
Dawn relaxed back into her chair. "That's okay Lisa. You're right, it is 
strange. You'll get used to it though. Tomorrow I'll be telling you a story 
in a public place and you'll be wearing only one item of clothing, remember? 
That will help get you over this inhibition."
"Hmmm," Lisa was noncommittal. "Anyway, what happened after that?"
"Not much in Naples. Maria continued in the same manner, as if nothing had 
happened. Don Aitello came back to the bar, but he too pretended not to even 
notice me. I never saw any of the others again. A week later Maria's 
daughter returned from college, and she was to work in the bar, so it was 
time for me to leave.
"Maria called me into the bar the day before I was leaving. She was working 
on the books. She asked me where I was going next. I said I had plans to go 
island hopping around the Aegean. She nodded gravely. Then she said 'I want 
to thank you for the other night. It went better than I could have hoped.'
'What do you mean, hoped?' I began to get that feeling that things weren't 
quite as I had interpreted them again.
'Frederico told Giuseppe what you had done in Florence. Poor Gio, he cannot 
keep anything to himself, so he told me, thinking I would say no. But you 
see, Don Aitello has been coming around here, suggesting that we are not 
running this bar well, that other people could get more money and so pay him 
more. He has a part interest in the bar, like many places on the island. So 
I thought if he met you and you flirted with him, maybe he would leave us 
alone. I did not think it would involve me also, but it was good fun. Now, 
Don Aitello will never close us down. So thank you.'
'Oh, you're welcome.' I was again a little put out that a situation I 
thought I had controlled had been partly manufactured without my knowing it. 
But it wasn't as if she had intended for it to go as far as it had, or that 
I hadn't enjoyed it.
'As a favour I can get you a job on the island of Paros, working in a hotel. 
My cousin runs the bar there.'
'That would be nice, thank you.' She picked up the phone, had a brief 
conversation, and then scribbled down a name of a hotel and her cousin on a 
piece of paper.
'It is in the resort of Pisso Livadi' she said handing me the paper. Then 
she looked down and continued to work on the books. It was clear our 
conversation was at an end.
"And I left the next day. Giuseppe was unloading a delivery, so gave me a 
quick goodbye and Maria was not even at the bar, so I left quietly and made 
my way across the Italy and then to the Aegean. It was a rather subdued 
farewell considering what I had experienced there."
Phillip could tell from her manner that Dawn was tired now and did not 
expect further progress that night. He touched Lisa on the arm. She jumped 
slightly. Nodding towards Dawn he said quietly, "she's tired. We'll continue 
tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yes, fine." Lisa seemed keen to leave also. They all kissed quickly and 
gathered by the door.
"Remember Lisa, one item of clothing only tomorrow."
Lisa nodded nervously, "okay. Thanks Dawn, that was a fantastic story."
"I bet you're sorry Steve isn't at home now, having got yourself all worked 
up."
Lisa giggled, "Oh, I'm sure I can find someway of relieving it."
When they had closed the door Phillip gave Dawn's shoulders a massage. 
"Tomorrow will be fun I think."
"Mmm," she purred, rubbing her head against his hands. "But for now, sleep."

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