Howie pulled up to the marina dock on his jet ski, the Miami sun beating down on the turquoise water. He spotted Jodie Adams right away, leaning against a palm tree, her recently coloured brown hair flowing over her shoulders, a white crop top hugging her full breasts, and those tight jean shorts that clung to her hips like a second skin. She was every bit the top model the tabloids raved about: late twenties, legs that went on forever, and a confident smile that screamed she knew exactly the power she held.

Howie felt his pulse quicken as he killed the engine. He'd shown plenty of wealthy clients around the exclusive Miami mansions, but none like her. Something about her eyes locked on him made his cock twitch in his shorts.

He looked down her legs to her feet, slender and well-pedicured, with smooth, pale skin that contrasts against the blue straps of her flip-flops. Her toes are neatly aligned, painted in a soft pink polish. A faint arch curves gracefully, leading to a soft heel. The flip-flops hug her feet loosely, exposing the sides and the natural curve of her instep.

“Hi, Miss Adams, I'm Howie, the real estate agent,” he said.

“Call me, Jodie.”

“I hope you don’t mind travelling by jet ski, it’s the best way to get around,” he continued.

Howie is 5'10" with a lean, athletic build, light tan skin, short dark hair, sharp green eyes, and stubbled jaw in loose khaki shorts, a white shirt and black rubber flip-flops.

Jodie took Howie’s hand, swung her leg behind him on the jet ski, and pressed against Howie's back. They sped off to their first property, Jodie’s nipples stiffening from the spray. Her hair flying in the wind, the engine's hum thrilling between her legs.

They arrived at their first stop. As they walked the short path to the beachfront mansion, Jodie moved with a sway that drew Howie’s gaze to her ass, the denim stretched taut.

“This place is incredible,” she purred, glancing back at him.

“But I need something with a view that really excites me.” Her words hung in the air, laced with suggestion.

Inside the open-plan villa, she bent to inspect a marble countertop, her shorts riding up just enough to hint at bare skin beneath. He wondered if she was wearing underwear. He imagined peeling those shorts off, exposing her pussy right there on the terrace. As they toured the rooms, Jodie kicked off her flip-flops casually, padding barefoot across the cool tile floors. Her feet were perfect. She caught him staring and smirked, wiggling her toes teasingly.

“Like what you see?” she asked, her voice low and playful.

Howie swallowed hard. He knew she had a boyfriend; her relationship with singer Steve Fleet was highly publicised, but at this point, he didn’t care.

She slipped her flip-flops back on as they headed out. Back at the water's edge, Howie fired up the jet ski for the ride to the next mansion. Jodie climbed on behind him, the engine roared to life, and they skimmed across the bay, spray misting their skin. Every bounce of the waves made her body grind against his back, her breasts soft against his shoulders. He could feel the heat of her through those thin shorts. Lust built like the salt wind whipping past them—raw, insistent. She leaned in close, breath hot on his neck. '

“This is thrilling,” she whispered, one hand sliding down to rest on his thigh, inches from his hardening cock.

They docked at a sprawling estate with private docks, but neither moved to get off right away. Jodie's hands roamed boldly now, tracing the outline of his shorts. Her hand moved and grabbed his cock. Howie's heart pounded; the public spot added an edge of danger that made his dick throb. He turned, capturing her mouth in a hard kiss, tongues clashing with urgent need. She moaned into him, tasting of salt and desire, her body arching closer. His hands found her waist. As she swings over in front of him, they are face-to-face.

Howie’s fingers hook into the button of Jodie's tight denim shorts, the fabric straining over her hips. With a quick flick, he pops one open, exposing the smooth skin of her lower belly. He continues and undoes the rest of her buttons, a shiver running through her as the cool ocean breeze kisses her bare mound. No panties, just as he had fantasised.  

Howie tugs the shorts lower, peeling them down her thighs just enough to bare her completely, his palm sliding between her legs to cup her wet folds. She bucks into his touch, loving the exposure, the risk of it all, her clit throbbing under his thumb as she grinds shamelessly, juices coating his fingers while her laughter turns to needy gasps echoing over the water. The denim shorts slid down her legs, and she threw them on the wooden deck. She slid her feet out of her flip flops and also cast them on the deck. The jet ski rocked gently with the waves, heightening the exposure—anyone could see them. Howie groaned, his hands cupping her ass, pulling her down onto his lap. She freed his cock from his shorts, stroking the thick length with a firm grip that made him buck. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet the intimacy of her stare pulled him deeper, emotions swirling with the raw lust.

She guided him to her entrance, sinking slowly, her tight pussy enveloping his cock inch by inch. The stretch burned sweet, her walls clenching around him as she bottomed out. They moved together, her hips grinding in a rhythm that slapped wet skin against skin. Howie's hands roamed her body, one sliding up to pinch her nipple, the other gripping her thigh. Jodie leaned back, her perfect feet lifting, wrapping her legs around him. Arches flexing as she rode him harder, the sensation sending jolts straight to his balls. He captured one foot, sucking her big toe into his mouth, tongue swirling over the soft pad while she gasped, her pussy fluttering around his thrusting cock. Her free foot trailed down to rub his thigh, toes curling possessively. The public thrill amplified everything; the voyeuristic rush made his heart race as much as his hips.

Howie thrust up deeper, pounding into her with relentless force, the jet ski bobbing under their weight. Sweat slicked their bodies, mixing with the sea spray. Jodie's moans grew louder. He felt the build in her, the way her pussy tightened, milking him.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded, leaning forward to kiss him again.

The rhythm intensifies, his cock pistoling faster, hitting her deepest spots until her body seizes—Jodie's orgasm crashes over her, pussy spasming hard around him, gushing hot fluids as she wails into the wind.

Howie buries himself to the hilt one last time, roaring as his cock pulses, flooding her clenching depths with thick ropes of cum. He pumps through it, milking every drop inside her, their bodies shuddering together. Jodie collapsed, spent and quivering, his seed leaking from her stuffed pussy onto the seat.

She retrieved her shorts and shimmied the tight denim up her toned thighs, the fabric catching on her slick skin. Her bare pussy lips, swollen and glistening with a mix of her arousal and Howie's thick cum. She gasped softly, the rough denim brushing her sensitive clit, sending a fresh shiver through her core as she buttoned up and trapped the sticky warmth against her mound.

They took a look around the house, but Jodie wasn’t sure. There is another place Howie wanted to show her, but it isn’t possible to view until later that night. Jodie informed Howie that she is going out with friends later, but could meet him there on the way.

Jodie's pulse quickened as the short, grey and black striped dress clung to her skin like a second layer of temptation. Her bare legs stretched out smooth and inviting, the cool air licking at her inner thighs, her shaved pussy lay utterly exposed beneath the hem. She shifted her weight, feeling the dress's edge brush against her slick folds, her clit swelling with need as a fresh trickle of arousal seeped from her entrance, coating her bare lips in glistening wetness that made her thighs slick. Her sexy high-heeled grey sandals forced her calves to flex with each step, her perfect feet arched elegantly, toes curling under the straps as if begging for lips to suck on them or a tongue to trace their delicate curves.

Howie was blown away as he met Jodie at house number three. They kissed and went inside the house. His eyes followed her around the room.

"That’s a great dress,” he exclaimed.

“Glad you like it,” Jodie replied.

His eyes walked down her body to her bare legs.

“I know what you are thinking,” she smiled.

Howie crossed the room, his eyes fixed on Jodie's form as she stood by the window, the outside lights casting a soft glow over her silhouette. His hand cupped her face as he pulled her into a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her sweetness, while his other hand slid up the hem of her short dress, fingers brushing the smooth skin of her thigh.

She moaned into the kiss, her body arching toward him, but he didn't stop there. His hand ventured higher, finding her bare, warm flesh. No panties—just her slick pussy waiting for him.

“Fuck, Jodie, no underwear again,” he growled against her lips, breaking the kiss to stare at her with burning desire.

“No! Each step I take, I feel it—my ass cheeks rubbing together, my clit getting all sensitive from the breeze sneaking up my dress. Makes me wet.”

His fingers traced her folds, already soaking and parting easily under his touch. He dipped one inside her, feeling her clench around him as she gasped, gripping his shoulders. He yanked his fingers out with a wet pop, her juices stringing between his digits and her swollen lips, glistening in the dim light.

Howie dropped to his knees, his hands gripping her bare thighs and shoving her dress up to her waist. Jodie's heart raced, her sexy sandals planted wide as she stared down at him, his face inches from her exposed pussy, slick folds parted and dripping, arousal trickling down her inner thighs. He didn't hesitate—his lips crashed against her wet cunt, tongue diving straight in to lap at her folds like a man starved.

“Oh fuck, Howie!” Jodie moaned loudly, the sound ripping from her throat as his mouth attacked her pussy.

Pleasure exploded through her, his tongue flat and rough against her sensitive skin. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, her hips bucking involuntarily to grind her clit against his lips. The sensation was overwhelming—hot, wet suction pulling at her juices.

Howie devoured her like she was his last meal, his tongue lapping hard at her swollen clit, flicking it back and forth with urgent strokes that made her knees buckle. Jodie's moans turned into desperate whimpers, her bare legs quivering in those high heels that elevated her ass just right for his access. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teeth grazing it lightly, then released it to plunge his tongue deep inside her hole. She felt it swirling, probing her tight walls, tasting every drop of her slick arousal.

“You taste so sweet, Jodie.”

He then stood up, spun her around, pressing her against the window, and pushed her dress up further up to completely expose her ass. His free hand unzipped his trousers, pulling out his throbbing cock, hard and leaking pre-cum. With a firm grip on her hip, he lined up and plunged into her tight pussy in one swift motion, filling her. She cried out, pushing back to meet his thrusts as he pounded into her relentlessly, the glass fogging from her heated breaths.

Pushing back, her heels lifted her just enough to align them. He didn't make her wait—gripped her hips harder and slammed forward, his thick shaft burying balls-deep in her pussy in one brutal thrust. She cried out, the stretch burning so good, her walls squeezing tight around him like a vice. Wetness squelched as he bottomed out, her juices coating his cock instantly.

Howie fucked her hard, hips slamming against her ass with punishing force, each thrust driving his cock deep into her clenching heat. Jodie's moans filled the room, raw and urgent, her body jolting forward with every pound. Her hands pressed against the steamed glass windows. He reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing it roughly while he railed her pussy, the dual stimulation making her see stars.

One hand then yanked Jodie’s dress down to expose her tits, pinching her nipples hard. She arched back, grinding against him, her pussy fluttering wildly, more wetness flooding out to ease his brutal pace. The friction was intense—his cock dragging along her walls, hitting that spot over and over, her clit throbbing under his fingers. She fell forward, her body pressed against the cool glass, her bare breasts squashed.

He fucked her mercilessly, battering her cervix while fingers worked her clit raw, slick arousal flooding between them.

Howie's pace faltered, grunts animalistic as he slammed deep once more, then pulled out with a wet slide. He spun her around, pressing against her. Jodie's eyes locked on his, hazy with lust, pussy gaping and dripping. He stroked himself furiously, aiming at her slick folds. Then he exploded—hot ropes shooting across her pussy, splattering her lips and clit, mixing with her juices. He pushed back into her to finish releasing his load, moaning and pressing deeper as he let go and filled her up with his warm cum. Jodie shuddered as he pulled out, fingers rubbing his cum into her folds, clit throbbing. Howie's chest heaved, cock twitching as he smeared the last drops on her thigh.

Jodie's legs wobbled as she pushed off the wall, Howie's cum sticky between her thighs, mixing with her own slick juices from her swollen pussy. The tight short dress clung to her body. She rearranged it and ran her fingers through her hair as though there was nothing to see. She smiled at Howie, his eyes dark with hunger, cock still semi-hard and glistening.

“You know I can see my friend waiting,” she said.

Jodie exited and found Andie waiting in her Mercedes. The two set off together, heading to a nearby bar to meet up with Lisa.

At the bar with her friends, Jodie sipped wine, legs crossed on a stool, feeling her wetness spread. The slick mess Howie had left dripping from her shaved pussy, warm and sticky against the cool leather seat. Her bare legs gleamed under the neon lights, smooth and toned, crossed to hide the secret between them.

She could feel it every time she moved, cum leaking out, coating her inner thighs. Now, sitting there, chattering away about some guy Lisa had met, Jodie savoured the ache in her pussy, the way her swollen lips rubbed together without anything to barrier them.

She uncrossed her legs slowly, feeling the air hit her bare cunt as the hem of her dress crept up another inch. No one noticed—or if they did, the guys at the end of the bar pretended not to stare. Her pussy lips parted slightly with the motion, more of Howie's load trickling out, warm and wet down her ass crack. She clenched her inner muscles, trying to hold it in, but it only made her hornier, the slickness making her want to grind against the stool.

Jodie shifted again, spreading her knees just a fraction under the bar's shadow. The cool draft from the AC vent below licked at her exposed folds, sending a shiver up her spine. Her bare legs flexed, calves tightening as she dangled one grey heel, letting it swing provocatively. The sharp click of the heel against the footrest echoed faintly amid the bar's buzz, drawing a further glance from one of the guys. Jodie's heart raced; she loved this—the risk of flashing her freshly fucked pussy to anyone who looked close enough. The thought of cum visible, glistening on her thighs, made her nipples harden against the thin dress fabric.

She crossed her legs the other way, deliberate and slow, the motion rubbing her slick thighs together. Her clit caught the pressure, a jolt of pleasure making her bite her lip. The grey sandals gleamed as she tapped one heel on the floor, the rhythmic tap-tap drawing eyes to her bare legs, up to where the dress barely covered her ass. Wetness smeared between her skin, the scent of sex faint but there, mixing with the bar's booze and sweat. She uncrossed her legs again, letting them part wider this time, heels planted firm on the rung. The stranger’s gaze dropped to her lap. She didn’t move, daring him to see the shine of her wet cunt.

The exhibitionism burned through her, hot and urgent. No underwear meant no hiding the evidence of Howie's rough claiming—her pussy stretched, sore, craving more. She tapped her heel faster, the sound like a secret signal, her bare legs on full display, smooth skin begging for hands to slide up them. Jodie smirked to herself, pulse pounding between her thighs. What if she stood up now, let the dress ride all the way up? Let everyone see how full her cunt still was with his cum? The idea made her squirm, fresh arousal mixing with the mess, dripping onto the stool.

She closed her legs and smiled teasingly at the guys who were clearly looking her way. Just then, a WhatsApp from Howie: he had found another house for her to view, and she couldn’t wait.