Felicity was a new tenant in some shared accommodation I was renting. There were five of us in the house, four women and me. I was the token male, more there because they wanted someone to do those things that the girls didn't want to tackle themselves. I got out of a lot of housework but was expected to keep the yards looking tidy. It also meant that if one of the girls brought a man home they had me there in case of emergency.
There was an unwritten caveat to my tenancy that I'd seek my sexual pleasures elsewhere and not come onto the other tenants. That was fine by me. I didn't need the problems that a live-in lover could cause. If I ever wanted an affair with one of the girls I'd have to find accommodation elsewhere first. Not really a problem. I had a good job and it was only laziness that had stopped me moving into my own place.
Felicity was cute and an innocent and the other girls seemed rather protective of her. On a side note I was also damned sure that none of the other girls were innocents and hadn't been that way for quite a while.
At eighteen, Felicity was the youngest of the group, with Beth being the oldest at about twenty-five with the rest of us falling between those ages.
Another of the unwritten rules was that no-one ran around the house in their undies. This was supposedly for my benefit, with the girls not wanting to accidently flame my libido, resulting in unseemly passes. My observations said that the girls observed this rule if they thought of it, which they often didn't, so I wasn't unaccustomed to see a young lady running around in her scanties. If they noticed me while in this condition they tended to shrug and write me off as a pseudo-brother.
I guess this ignoring the no walking around in your underwear rule meant that Felicity probably never realised it was a rule. She would walk around in the scantiest underwear and never notice me. I was tempted to mention the rule to her but hell, she was delicious. If the girls objected let them complain.
That was how things stood the day of the parade. It was just a local affair but there was a small parade destined to come down our street on the Saturday afternoon. I didn't give two thoughts to it. It wasn't as though I was going to run out and watch it. Everybody else was out of the house so parade-wise our household didn't give a damn.
It turned out that there was someone else home, Felicity, and she liked parades. She also must have thought she had the house to herself. I heard the music start and knew the parade had started but I was more interested in watching a game on TV. I ambled into the front room to switch on the big TV set and almost had a heart attack.
Felicity was kneeling on the couch, leaning forward over the back of it, eyes glued to the parade, watching fascinated as the floats went past. You know I mentioned scanty underwear? Forget it. She'd taken advantage of the empty house to not bother putting it on. She was kneeling there starkers, everything on display. Literally everything. Because of the angle at which she was kneeling I had a perfect view of a dangling breast as well as her pussy.
Talk about offering yourself up for a man's delectation.
Now a gentleman would have turned and walked away. I failed the gentleman test. I coughed discretely instead. Felicity certainly heard me cough. She turned and looked at me, her face all smiles, then turned back to watch the parade. She was bouncing on the couch as she watched and that bounce was doing awesome things to her breast. To both breasts, actually. I compounded my non-gentlemanly behaviour by ambling across the room to check. Both breasts were beautiful and wobbling about in a very enticing fashion.
I moved over and stood next to the poor demented female.
"Felicity," I said firmly.
The last of the parade was now passing by so she was prepared to turn and face me. Her face was still all happy smiles.
"You do realise that you're naked?" I asked her.
"Oh, pooh. Who cares?" she asked me.
"Didn't your parents ever talk to you about being naked in front of a man?"
"Well, yes, but you don't count. You've probably seen naked women before, anyway."
"Yes, I have and you'll find I do count," I said dryly. "Didn't your parents tell you why you shouldn't be naked in front of a man?"
She shrugged which is not something she should do while naked.
"One reason," I told her, "is because men tend to act on the principle that what they can see they can touch. Like this."
I reached and caught hold of one of those jiggling breasts, cupping it and holding it still. Felicity looked somewhat startled.
"And like this," I added, my other hand closing over her mound."
Startled didn't start to cover the expression on her face then. She gaped at me, clearly at a loss of how to proceed.
"Oh," she said in a small voice. "Maybe I should go and get dressed."
