Let's see how far we can get.
Some intimate exposure, or even a lot more of it, might not be too much of a reward to make up for her previous ill manners, even if he had seen it all before by accident in her frustration as she stood over him. He was proving to be more interesting to her than she had thought possible with him being so bashful, and he was here, and they were alone, and would be for some time. The possibilities were becoming intriguing.
Iris intended to keep him there as long as she could, despite his obvious nervousness, and she gently applied some of the lanolin cream she had left here for just this purpose once she’d got him in here with her, and to deal with whatever discomfort from the wasp stings remained, as she turned his hands, and then looked at his arms, face and neck. She was taking her time doing it and had carefully rubbed it all over his arms and then higher, where she could reach; then around his neck where he had been stung, and other places where he may not have, as she leaned in toward him. Not satisfied with what she had done, she undid the top straps of his coveralls, and more buttons on his shirt—making him even more nervous, before moving it down his arms so that she could get at his neck and shoulders even better. He did not resist now. He’d given up by then.
He was well muscled. His body deeply interested her almost as much as hers interested him. She had talked to him then, about nothing in particular to take her turbulent mind off being close to him, and his mind off what she was doing, tormenting him with, showing him.
She realized that he was disturbing her, almost as much as she was disturbing him with glimpses of what he could see, and what still remained hidden, but would not be hidden for long. She saw him close his eyes, and it was not from the soothing action of that lotion. She knew how warm he felt after watching her breasts sway under the edge of her slightly damp shirt directly in front of him, even appearing out of the bottom of it as she moved. It would not take much to move it up on her and rest it on top of her breasts. Or take it off altogether.
He could not easily ignore anything about her. He was a man, after all, and a young and a suddenly interesting one to her. There were moments while she was looking away, when he could not take his eyes off her breasts, immediately in front of him, and no more than six inches away as she worked behind his neck, pulling him closer to her. His hands were holding at her waist now, getting ever lower as she pulled him around, soon resting on her hips, touching only her bare flesh as her panties had moved down with his hands. He was even holding into the top of them, part way to actually getting them off her, but unconscious of it.
He was showing changes in his own clothing too. He was becoming aroused, she could see that, so she knew she was having a good effect on him. It was becoming even more promising.
She needed to reveal much more than she was revealing already.
That, would require a slightly different strategy and a good deal more courage, though the signs were promising that he would neither panic, or overwhelm her until she was ready for that to happen. She began to feel quite annoyed that the other girls would too soon interrupt what was becoming of paramount interest to her, so she had better move things along.
She had never before been able to captivate a man who had become of such deep interest to her, or had seemed so interested in her like this before, and been in a position to be the one dictating what would happen.
Iris did not entirely know how she was affecting him, but might easily guess from the state of his expression and his bodily changes. He was wide eyed and blushing when he did open his eyes to look at her and his cheeks were flushed. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her face, except when she had been deeply engrossed with other things; his arms and hands, which was often, his neck, or she had been undoing his shirt, and then his attention wandered to admire the rest of her, as she wanted him to.
She knew what he wanted to see of her; her breasts, and more of them, and be able to see more of what lay between the spread of her legs in much more detail, and she intended that he would, and she would make it happen by accident, or for it to seem that way.
His glance was still frequently directed at her loose panties, with her legs as far apart as they were, and constantly revealing ever more of her body to him there as she moved or turned away from him to get more of the lotion beside her.
He might even be tempted to reach out and move them aside for himself. It would have taken little effort; they were loose enough, or even take them off her. She would not have minded. All hell would break loose if he might dare to do that. However, he could not know that his intimate attention would be well received.
She leaned closer into him, as though needing more leverage to rub energetically at his shoulders and chest as he sat forward. There was just the one place he might look, as she did that.
That unique place seemed to attract the attention of all males, and was near his hands. She could even anticipate what it might be like to have his hand there, with his fingers sliding along in that moist space, and intruding into her in preparation for something bigger and certainly much harder by now. She began to become agitated at the thought. It was exciting to consider. She encouraged him to lift his head, for a moment, so that he looked at the ceiling as she rubbed the lotion into his neck, high up under his chin.
He was not sure what to do in this circumstance. His hand was still unavoidably touching her against her panties, but it was just the back of his fingers.
When his head looked down at her again, she avoided looking directly at him, so that he might have the freedom, to see all that he wanted to see of her, and might even have the courage to touch.
He must know by now, that she was doing this deliberately, and wanted him to touch her. She could hardly have been more obvious or inviting.
She found that she was becoming breathless herself at what she was doing. She had never touched a man’s body before, and had never been touched herself, either. His body felt hard, solid, interesting, breathtakingly so, to go along with the rest of what she was doing and intended to do. She also began to see a greater change in him. His clothing had moved interestingly off his body where his male part lurked, out of sight for the moment.
She made things a lot more enticing for him as she had leaned over and stretched along the bench to get a dry towel from much further along it.
As she had done that her shirt had pulled entirely up and off her breasts, revealing all of them. She wondered if he might dare touch anywhere, or might drop helplessly to his knees, overcome by passion, tear off her panties, and pull her into him so that they might kiss and fondle and then…?
She decided that she would like to move things along much faster if she could, to an inevitable conclusion.
She sat back in front of him, her shirt sitting on top of her breasts now, then raised her head and looked into his eyes to see if she could gauge his mood toward her rebellious abandon, and what he might be thinking of her, as well as for him to see in her eyes what she wanted of him. Perhaps she had offended him and not just surprised him. He just might want to run off in a dead panic and put as much distance between them as possible.
Obviously not. He was blushing, but that was to be expected. He also had the clearest and most intense grey eyes she had ever seen. They seemed to burn into her, just as hers, at that moment, burned into him.
They were both of them open books to the other and could read each other’s minds and intentions; flushed; wide eyed; interesting and interested… understanding… approving. Passionately eager to touch each other. He was leaning closer to her too. There was wide-eyed amazement, but no judgmental recoiling from her. The signs were good. More than good. They were gratifying and exciting as well as promising.