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By the time we’d walked down the long footpath from where the taxi dropped us off, Paul and I were dripping with sweat.

Emily had flown out earlier that day and was already in a bikini, splayed on top of the rocks overlooking the sea in a secluded nook on the rocky shore. Our suitcases had been lost somewhere between London and Greece, so all we had was what we were wearing, which — like us — was now in desperate need of a freshen up.

The trip was originally designed as a couple’s weekend away, but I’d broken up with Jemma a few weeks earlier and had suggested cancelling. Paul and Emily had convinced me I wouldn’t be a third wheel, and that I really did need a break anyway. We could have way more fun without Jemma slowing us down, they’d lied like all good friends would. I knew I should’ve left them to it, but the thought of a weekend in the sun — and a break from solo life — was too tempting.

I’d harboured something of a couple crush on the two of them for years, and the four of us had always been close. But we’d always been two distinct couples, me and Jemma, and Paul and Emily, despite an undertone of flirtiness that had made evenings together fun for years. We’d always been close and they knew from enough late-night drinking confessionals that I was pretty open minded and had fumbled my way through a bit of experimentation before settling down with Jemma.

All of which is just to say that I was just looking forward to a weekend of sun, sea, and drinks with old friends. But I’d still given myself a neat shave and all-round spruce, just in case. And given that I’m now telling you what happened, you can probably guess that I got more than just a bit of sunbathing with friends. In fact, I got a lot more than I was ready for.

It was a secluded spot so Emily told us to get in the water to cool off. “I’ll go put your clothes in the wash. Go on, I won’t look!” she giggled.

The water was inviting and I didn’t think twice. I stripped off and jumped straight off the rocks into the sea before I could feel too exposed. As I surfaced a second splash told me Paul had joined me.

Emily shouted down, “see you at the house, it’s just up there.” We started to protest but she added, “Don’t worry, I’ve left you something to wear to get up there.”

We took our time in the sea, recharging after a stressful and sweaty journey. Once we felt fully refreshed, we climbed back up the rocks to the perch and sat down on the sun-warmed ledge to dry off, politely angled away from each other.

After a few minutes of basking, the need for that first holiday beer began to outweigh the inertia that a warm afternoon sun imposes, and we glanced up at what Emily had left us to get from the seafront to the house.

“Emily!” Paul shouted in vain in the general direction of the house as he saw the options. There was one tiny white pleated tennis skirt, and a long flowing semi-transparent skirt with a thick white elasticated top.

We both dived for the longer skirt, I guess imagining it was the somehow the less revealing or obviously feminine, though in truth there probably wasn’t much difference. As we lunged, the side of Paul’s body edged me out – I pushed back in and for a split second our whole naked sides connected from hip to shoulder, before a little nudge from Paul sent me sprawling.

He whipped on the long skirt, which had the airy feel of a sarong, and swirled triumphantly, seemingly unaware that his cock – almost entirely visible – swung out with his whirl. Having not looked with a completely unrestricted view for the last half an hour, I now found the glimpse of his manhood through the sheer fabric strangely enticing. “Fabulous, darling!” I said, joining in the joke and hoping it seemed I was admiring the skirt rather than the way the fabric pressed against his athletic ass.

“Chuck me mine then,” I said, defeated. It was tight. One of those skirts that has teeny shorts underneath and barely enough skirt to cover anything. At least I wouldn’t be quite so on show, I thought, as I pulled it up my legs. This wasn’t the first time I’d tried on women’s clothing – an occasional pair of panties or sliver of silky lingerie in my past, but only as an occasional secret indulgence and never in front of anyone other than on Halloween. The little shorts hugged around my balls and cock, I was relieved that the skirt did a little bit to mask that I had started to swell at the past memory of those few private dressing up sessions.

“Right. Shall we get up there and kill Emily before anyone sees us?”

We made our way up the hill to the house, walking briskly in case anyone happened to look over, though it was blissfully quiet as far as I could see. As we came through a little white gate into a garden in front of a little villa, Emily emerged from the house, locking the patio door behind her and slipping the key in her pocket. She had laid three drinks out on the table – one beer, ice cold and sweating in the warm setting sun, and two wide rimmed bursa escort bayan pink cocktails.

“So, turns out I can’t read Greek and have had some trouble with the washing machine. Your clothes are stuck in there for now. But don’t worry, I’ve had a look and there’s one guy’s outfit in a cupboard inside – must be the owner’s. So here’s the deal. One of you can wear that, and, so I don’t feel outnumbered as the only girl here, the other one is going to be my girlfriend for the night. I’ve got plenty of clothes to share that we can definitely make fit, and I’m sure whoever is wearing the trousers will enjoy being the man of the house for a night anyway — stop you two morons competing over every little thing!”

That was a lot to take in at once. We looked at her and each other skeptically, but somehow standing in our skirts we felt we had no negotiating power at all. She already had us beat.

“So who gets the owner’s clothes?” I asked warily.

“Since you’re both dressed so nicely for beach games, how about a little volleyball? There’s a net there! First to 10?” It was phrased as a question, but there was no other option presented to us.

There was a small volleyball net set up on a patch of grass next to the house, and an old ball lying in wait. Paul and I have been taking silly games way too seriously for years, so despite the skirts we were back in our comfort zone and went straight to it.

We traded points up to about 6-6, when Paul hit a perfect serve I could only just bounce back, leaving him an easy spike for 7-6. Two repeats of the move got him to 9-6 before I could work out my counter, and though I clawed back to 8-9, the game was his with a cheeky drop shot that left me diving into the net. I ended up on the floor, my skirt flipping up above my waist and those tiny shorts barely hiding my compact package.

“Oh my Big Strong Man, I knew you would do it,” Emily swooned as she rushed over and leant into Paul, lifting one leg like an old-timey movie kiss and playing the adoring girlfriend. She lifted the beer to his lips for a victory sip. A little spilt out and Emily bent to lick the loose drip off Paul’s glistening chest. His eyes caught mine in a moment of surprise, a searching look to check if I was comfortable with where Emily seemed to be leading us. I shrugged in resignation – a deal’s a deal after all.

“Right you, off to get cleaned up,” she said, waving Paul away. “Then go get yourself a beer at the bar around the corner and we’ll see you back down here for dinner which me and…. Rosie… will make for you of course.”

His and my eyebrows went even higher at that, but he was shoved into the house and disappeared off upstairs with a firm slap on the ass.

Then Emily rounded on me. “Now for you.” She came at me with two cocktails in hand. “I was hoping I’d get to play dress up with you.” I started to protest but she placed the cocktail in my hand and gently lifted it to my lips, and I took a sip of the sweet strawberry cocktail.

“That’s my girl.”

With the delicious cocktail already cooling both my throat and my nerves, Emily pressed on. “First things first, let’s get you clean. Come on!” She twirled and strode into the house, not looking back to check that I was following.

She stood in the entrance to one of the bedrooms and closed the door behind me. “Get your peachy little bum into that shower and freshen up properly. There’s some clippers and a razor in there too – nobody likes a girl who’s forgotten to shave her legs. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

With the door closing behind me, I finally had a moment to think about the ridiculous last hour or so. The mirror was straight ahead, and I saw myself standing, topless in a cute white tennis skirt, and smiled at the daft situation. Emily was loving this — and at least I was having a laugh, I thought, which had been in short supply lately. I’m not a hairy guy, and since I’d given myself a pretty neat trim already, going along a little further wouldn’t really do any harm. I examined myself — skirt hugging my hips below my slim upper body — and thought: not bad at all.

I got in the shower and did as I was told, washing away the day’s journey and the last of my resistance to whatever game Emily was playing.

***

When I came out with the towel around my waist, Emily exclaimed, “Oh Rosie, that’s not how we wear our towels!” She rushed over, unhooked the towel, pulled it up to just above my nipples, and retightened it. The towel was just big enough that it reached just below my waist — enough for some semblance of privacy, though I realised we were a long way past that already.

As she fastened the towel she leant her body into mine just a little bit, just enough for me to feel her small, well-formed breasts against my chest. “Much better.”

Her hand dropped down to mine and she pulled me across to the bed, where she’d laid out some clothes. There was a matching hot pink lace panty bursa escort sitesi and bra set, a peach silk shirt, and a tiny sky blue skirt with several layers of ruffles.

“Hey look,” I said, starting to have some reservations about how fast this was getting out of hand. A pair of panties in my own bedroom as a teenager is a long way from parading about in an outfit like this with two of my closest friends. “You know me, I’m happy to play along but this is a bit much, surely you have something a little less…”

“Less what? Sexy?” she tilted her head to the side. “Let’s just see how we get on with these, shall we?” Without a moment’s hesitation she grabbed the panties and dropped to her knees. “Leg”. I raised my foot slightly in acquiescence, and she slipped the pink panties on. “Now the other.” I obeyed. She began to pull them up, but I quickly took over when she reached my knees, slipping them up under the towel. The feeling of them sliding up my legs and the simple sight of Emily on her knees in front of me was already making me hard and I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit that yet. the panties held me perfectly — as long as nothing got any larger, and the feeling of the panty edge curving across my ass sent a thrill up my spine.

“Now the top”, she said, ripping the towel away. So much for privacy. “She threaded the bra over my arms and stepped closer. I felt the pressure of the bra around my chest, and this time, she locked eyes with me as she pressed her body against mine.

I was entranced, but what about Paul? I was absolutely not prepared to let Emily gleefully lead me into anything he wouldn’t be happy with.

“Shirt next”. The feeling of the silk sliding up my arms was more than I could take and my cock was now on the verge of springing out the top of the panties. I hurriedly fastened the buttons — caught off guard by the buttons being on the other side to normal since this was a woman’s shirt — and hoping the way it hung might disguise my obvious arousal. But as she bent down and pulled the skirt up over my legs the tight elastic waistband pressed firmly against my cock, and the outline was unmistakable.

“Oh dear, we can’t have that can we Rosie?” she said, pressing her hand over the outline that was lying flat against my body and giving a little squeeze. “You won’t have any need for that tonight, so why don’t you go back in there and deal with it sweetie? In fact, I think we could both do with blowing off a little steam before we go and see Paul — don’t want to be too charged up when we have a long night ahead of us,” she winked. “And don’t worry about Paul — he’s going to LOVE what we’ve got planned for him.”

She spun me around by the shoulders, placed both hands on my ass, and gently steered me back to the bathroom. I closed the door and leant back against it. In the mirror I saw myself again, and took a sharp breath in at the transformation from just a little pruning in the shower and a new outfit. How did I get here?

No time to figure that out. My cock demanded attention, and so did Emily. “Sit down with your back to the door. I’m on the other side. We’re going to play with ourselves together – I used to do this with my girlfriends at sleepovers, it’s fun. Just do what I do.”

I relented, sliding my back down the door until I was on the floor. I pulled the panties to one side and let my cock spring free. The sight of my cock poking up underneath the blue ruffles of the skirt was a huge turn on. Maybe she was right, and a little release would at least stop me embarrassing myself any more.

As I rested my back on the door I felt the slight movement of someone doing the same on the other side. “I want you to feel yourself, Rosie” she said. “Really get into it. Gently massage your tits for me,” she said, breathing a little more heavily. I could hear her rustling right behind me. “Rub your whole chest just like I’m doing out here”. My hands glided over the silk shirt and I gave a little squeeze to my tits through the bra, feeling a thrill as I brushed over my nipples. I closed my eyes and with the foreign feeling of the bra over my chest it really felt like someone else groping the tits I suddenly longed for. “Now slide your hands down towards your clitty”. I slid both hands down the silk and over the ruffles of the skirt to my cock. “Now stroke, Rosie”.

I did. With one hand I explored my chest through the beautiful silk shirt, and the other I jerked myself, hearing her do the same on the other side of the door. She started to let out little moans of pleasure. “Boys like to hear when you’re having fun,” she said through deep breaths. “Moan for me,” she implored. And I did, letting out contented moans in time with hers, getting louder in time with her. I was nearly at the climax and it sounded like she was too. “Let’s come together sweetie! Rub yourself like a good little girl. Get yourself all ready for Paul.”

Wait, get ready for Paul?

It was too much. I exploded. I had just the presence of mind to catch it without making a mess of my outfit, and let out a delicate squeal as I did, matched on the other side of the door by Emily’s satisfied cries.

As I sat, coming down from the high, the door suddenly opened. One hand was full of cum and I just managed to catch myself from falling fully back with my other, but I was completely exposed, cock still poking out under my blue skirt, hot pink panties pulled to the side, and Emily standing above me, in complete control.

“Perfect — this will be a good warmup for later,” she said, and knelt right behind my back, lifting me slightly and letting her chest support my weight. She reached her still-wet hand down to my cum-filled hand and gently lifted it towards my face. I realised too late what was happening, and started to protest but she just whispered into my ear “Shhh… you’ll love it. Girls love to eat cum,” and I instinctively opened my mouth just a little as the hand arrived. “Lick it,” she commanded. I did, letting my tongue pass my lips and delicately dip into the palm of my hand. It was warm and thick, and I couldn’t believe what I was doing. She tilted my hand up making the full load slip into my mouth. Before I had time to think, she leaned around, turned my head to hers, and kissed me deep, pushing my cum deeper into my mouth with her tongue.

I was sitting in pink panties and a ruffled skirt, french kissing my best friend’s wife with my own cum slipping between our tongues. I was too overwhelmed to worry about whether this was okay — my head was absolutely swimming but my tongue was greedily swirling with hers, savouring the totally new taste and sensation in my mouth. It was like nothing I’d experienced before, a total sensory overload.

“Don’t worry about Paul,” she said — pulling away and pre-empting the concern that I’m sure would’ve risen in my mind as soon as the room had stopped spinning. “He knows how I play with my girlfriends. Now clean up, Rosie. We’ve got to get dinner on, I sent Paul to the pub down the road to watch the match and have a few beers. I want everything ready for him when he comes home.”

She bounced to her feet and out of the room.

I was still on the floor, totally dumbstruck. As I stood up I glanced in the mirror again. Fully dressed, and now with a tiny bit of my own cum on my chin. I instinctively wiped it off with my finger then looked down. Well, after all of that, and nobody else here, there’s no point pretending to myself that I’m not wildly turned on. I put my finger in my mouth and locked eyes with myself in the mirror as I sucked it clean. A right little slut.

***

We were just cutting the last vegetables for the salad when Paul came in. My heart started racing – I hadn’t seen him for a few hours in which he’d been at the pub having a very normal afternoon. How would he respond to seeing me like this? Would he know that his wife had pushed my own cum into my mouth upstairs? I kept my head down and cut the peppers.

Paul had always been one to lean into the ‘gay jokes’ when we were out and he’d had a few drinks. He was handsy with everyone, it was just part of his party vibe, so I knew if he was in the mood he wouldn’t let me live down the state Emily had got me into – it was too tempting a joke to pass up.

He came in and said just loud enough to make it clear he’d had at least a few beers that afternoon ‘Oh hello ladies!’ He strode right up between us and I felt him give my ass a firm squeeze over my little skirt, which was barely covering my ass. Clearly he was still happy to play along. I batted him off playfully and faux-whispered “Paul! What would your wife say!”.

“Oh don’t mind me,” Emily said stepping closer. “I love to share.” She spun to wrap her arms around both me and Paul, holding me in place and pulling him in so his chest pressed up against my back. His hands, with nowhere else to go, settled on my hips and I felt my temperature rise sharply.

Waving my hands I wafted them both away and said ‘Dinner’s ready’. They relented and gave each other a quick kiss, chuckling.

Paul took his seat while Emily and I put the food out. The table was small, so as we all sat down it felt very intimate. My bare, smooth legs touched both Emily’s and Paul’s under the table, but none of us mentioned it and we had a remarkably relaxed, normal meal. We chatted and joked, a little more flirty than usual aided by the beers Paul had had, the cocktails Emily and I were drinking, and an overwhelming light headedness I had about the whole situation. I eased between playing up as “Rosie” and reverting to my usual Ryan as the conversation ebbed and flowed between platonic reminiscing and more suggestive chat.

When our plates were empty Emily asked if I’d been making the most of my newfound single freedom, and I answered honestly that I hadn’t met any girls who caught my eye recently.

“Oh Rosie, you’re looking in the wrong pool sweetie,” said Emily laughing. “I guarantee we’ll find just the right person for you if you come on my next girl’s night out!”

I rolled my eyes and gently kicked her under the table. She responded by hooking her foot under my leg and sliding her foot up the underside of my smooth leg.

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