The morning sun was already warm on Rachel's skin as she lay stretched across the lounger beside the villa's pool, her bright blue bikini bright against her tanned skin. The cicadas had begun their relentless song in the olive trees beyond the whitewashed walls, and somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled the hour with lazy Mediterranean indifference. It was their summer holiday, a restful break for some sun and relaxation in a Greek villa with a pool, but it was not as romantic as she had hoped it would be.

Her husband was gone already for the day. Off to the taverna in the next town before breakfast, where his friends had coincidentally rented another villa and where the television would show endless football matches while they spent the day drinking and putting the football world to rights. Three days into their holiday, and Rachel had seen more of this pool than she had of him.

She sighed, feeling the heat build beneath her skin, and decided the water might offer some relief. Rising from the lounger, she walked to the pool's edge, her bare feet warm against the terracotta tiles. The water looked impossibly blue, almost artificial in its clarity. She dove in without hesitation. The shock of coolness enveloped her, and for a moment, everything else fell away, the boredom, the frustration, the growing sense that she'd made a terrible mistake in coming here. She swam lazy laps, feeling her muscles stretch and release, the water sliding along her limbs like silk. When she finally finished, she rested for a while with her elbows on the side, her feet softly kicking behind her in the cool water. Then she emerged, droplets cascading down her body, and over her bikini as she climbed up the pool ladder, she felt a lot better inside and was determined to make the best of the day.

Rachel returned to her lounger and lay on her stomach, reaching behind to unfasten her bikini top. What was the point of tan lines when there was no one here to see? The villa was private enough, mostly surrounded by high walls and flowering bougainvillea. She let the straps fall away and settled onto the cushion, feeling the sun have full access to her bare back.

She didn't know that Andy could see her from the first-floor terrace of his villa next door, where he awas sitting in the sun drinking coffee, and deciding what he would do today. The movement of Rachel in the pool had caught his eye. The villas shared a wall, but the upper terraces had views into each other's gardens. He'd noticed her before, in fact they had nodded at each other when passing in the street outside. This beautiful woman who seemed always to be alone, and now he saw her lying topless by the pool, her skin glistening with water.

Andy was older than Rachel, a good career had allowed him to retire early and to follow the sun on holidays abroad. A little older than Rachel, well quite a bit older in fact, but he'd kept himself fit. Retirement had been kind to him, or rather, he'd been kind to retirement, filling his days with swimming, hiking, and maintaining the boat he kept in the harbour. He'd been thinking about buying property here in Greece, maybe living out his remaining years on this Island under this generous sun.

He had always been bold in his social life and today would be no exception.  Setting down his coffee and heading downstairs through his villa, he walked out the door, then Stood on an old box to look over the wall that separated the two properties

"Hello?" he called. "Sorry to disturb you."

Rachel's head jerked up, and she fumbled for her bikini top, holding it against her breasts as she turned. "Just a moment!"

"Take your time," Andy said, his voice carrying an easy warmth. "I'm Andy, from next door, well I guess that last bit is obvious. I just wanted to mention, your back is getting quite red. Thought you might want to know before it becomes painful."

Rachel managed to fasten her top and stood, wrapping a sarong around her waist. She walked to the wall, finding a tall, silver-haired man with kind eyes and the sort of tan that spoke of months, not weeks, in the sun.

"Thank you," she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "I didn't realise anyone could see."

"The terraces," Andy explained, gesturing upward. "I wasn't spying, I promise. Just enjoying my espresso and happened to notice." He smiled. "I'm Andy, as I said. Staying here for a few months while I decide if I want to make it permanent."

"Rachel," she offered, finding herself smiling back. There was something disarming about him, a confidence that didn't tip into arrogance. "I'm here with my husband, though you wouldn't know it. He's discovered the taverna in the next town and seems to have forgotten I exist."

"His loss," Andy said simply. Then, with a slight hesitation: "I don't mean to overstep, but would you like me to put some lotion on your back? Save you from a painful evening."

Rachel knew she should say no. Should thank him politely and send him away. But the thought of another day alone, another evening waiting for her husband to stumble back smelling of beer and cigarettes, made her reckless.

"That would be kind," she said. Come round, there is a gate near the front that should be open. Andy made his way to the gate, pushed it open, and came round to the pool area where Rachel was waiting,

Andy followed her to her lounger, and Rachel handed him the bottle of suntan lotion before lying face-down on the lounger. She heard the click of the bottle opening, then felt the cool lotion touch her shoulders. His hands were strong and sure, spreading the lotion across her back with practised ease. Rachel closed her eyes, feeling something inside her uncoil at the simple pleasure of being touched. When had her husband last touched her like this, with attention and care? She couldn't remember. Andy's hands moved lower, along her spine, his thumbs pressing gently against the muscles on either side. It wasn't quite a massage, but it wasn't not a massage either. Rachel felt a small sound escape her throat, something between a sigh and a moan.

"You're very tense," Andy observed, his voice low.

"I'm very bored," Rachel admitted. "I thought this holiday would be a chance for us to reconnect, rather than being the same as at home, but with sunshine and the occasional mosquito thrown in for good measure."

"Bored is fixable," Andy said, his hands still moving across her skin. "I'm taking my boat out today. I was just about to head down there. Just planning to find a quiet spot, do some swimming, catch some sun. You're welcome to join me, if you'd like."

Rachel turned her head to look at him. "Your boat?"

"Nothing fancy, but she's comfortable and roomy. There are some beautiful spots along the coast, places you can't reach by land. Much better than sitting by a pool waiting for someone who isn't coming back."

There was no judgment in his voice, just simple observation. Rachel felt something shift inside her, a door opening that she'd thought was locked.

"Today?" she asked.

"Why not? I was planning to leave now and get back to the harbour before the sun goes down."

Rachel made her decision in an instant. "I'd like that," she said.

Andy smiled. "Good. Grab something to go over your shoulders as it can get quite bright out there. Something you don't mind getting wet. Meet me by my car in 5 minutes."

He left to get his own things, and for Rachel the morning felt different now. Charged with possibility. She went inside and stood before her mirror feeling like a teenager preparing for a first date. She settled on her blue bikini she was already wearing, the one that made her feel attractive, and a thin white sundress that would be easy to slip on and off. Then she grabbed her bag and locked the villa as she left.

Andy was outside already, standing by a dusty but well-maintained Jeep. He wore long khaki shorts and a linen shirt, unbuttoned enough to show his chest, still muscled despite his age.

"Can I interest you in some sun and sea?" he asked.

"God, yes," Rachel said, and meant it.

The drive to the harbour took just a few minutes, winding through narrow streets lined with whitewashed houses and shops selling tourist trinkets. But when they reached the harbour, Rachel caught her breath. It was old-fashioned in the best way, fishing boats bobbing alongside pleasure craft, nets drying in the sun, and tavernas with tables right at the water's edge. The smell of salt and fish and grilling food filled the air. Her husband had not brought her down here, and her own excursions had been walks to the local shop to get some new supplies. This was the Greece that she had been wanting to find.

Andy's boat was moored at the far end, and it was larger than Rachel had expected, a sleek, modern vessel that looked capable of serious voyages. The rear sun deck was spacious, with cushioned surfaces perfect for lounging.

"She's beautiful," Rachel said as Andy helped her aboard.

"She's my retirement present to myself," Andy said, starting the engine. "Cast off that line, would you?"

Rachel did as he instructed, feeling the boat come alive beneath her feet as Andy guided them out of the harbour. The town receded behind them, becoming a postcard image of white and blue against the hills. Soon there was nothing but open water, the sun glittering on the waves as they headed further out.

"Come up here," Andy called from the helm. "The view's better."

Rachel climbed the short ladder to where Andy stood at the wheel, one hand resting casually on the polished wood. The wind caught her hair, and she laughed, feeling suddenly, gloriously free.

"This is incredible," she said.

"It gets better," Andy promised. "We can go out a lot further than the tourist boats, so there will be just us and the open sea. It really sets the mind to rest."

As they cut through the water, Rachel moved to the sun deck and stretched out on the cushions. The dress felt suddenly restrictive, and she glanced back at Andy.

"Would you mind if I took this off?" she asked, gesturing to her sundress. "It's so hot."

"Take off whatever you want," Andy said, his eyes on the horizon. "No one out here to see but me, and I promise I'm a gentleman."

Rachel smiled and pulled the dress over her head, feeling the sun immediately claim her skin. She lay back in her blue bikini, but after a moment's hesitation, she reached behind and unfastened the top. If they were truly alone out here, why not? She'd already been topless in front of him this morning, after all. The freedom of it was intoxicating. She closed her eyes and let the sun and wind and motion of the boat wash over her.

After a while, Andy called out: "Want to learn to steer?"

Rachel sat up, leaving her bikini top on the cushions of the sun deck. "Really?"

"Come on up. I'll show you."

She climbed to the helm, and Andy stepped aside, gesturing to the wheel. "Just keep her steady. Feel how she responds."

Rachel took the wheel, acutely aware that she was topless, that Andy was standing close behind her. His hands came to rest on either side of hers, guiding her movements.

"That's it, feel the waves and react to them" he said, his breath warm against her ear. "You're a natural."

They stayed like that for several minutes, Andy's body a solid presence behind her, his hands occasionally adjusting her grip. Rachel felt her heart beating faster, and not just the sun, and the open water was to blame. Then a wave hit the side of the boat, larger than the others, and the deck tilted slightly more than she was expecting. Rachel stumbled backward, pressing against Andy's body. She felt him immediately, hard and unmistakable against her lower back.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Rachel, emboldened by sun and freedom and three days of neglect, pushed back against him deliberately, feeling his harness nestling between the cheeks of her buttocks, just a couple of layers of clothing separating them.

She heard Andy's sharp intake of breath. Felt his hands tighten on the wheel.

Rachel turned around to face him, her bikini top forgotten on the deck below. She looked up at him, saw the question in his eyes, and answered it by reaching down to squeeze him through his shorts.

"Rachel," he said, his voice having a questioning note. “Are you ready for this?”

"My husband is watching football," she said. "I'm here. You're here. And I'm so tired of being bored."

Andy's control broke. He pulled her against him and kissed her, hard and hungry, one hand tangling in her hair while the other splayed across her bare back. Rachel kissed him back with equal vigour, her hands exploring the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

They broke apart, both breathing hard. Andy reached past her and switched off the engine. The sudden silence was profound, broken only by the slap of waves against the hull and the cry of distant gulls.

"Come here," Andy said, leading her down to the sun deck.

He kissed her again, slower this time, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened. Rachel arched into his touch, a small moan escaping her lips. When Andy bent to take one nipple into his mouth, she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He lavished even more attention on her breasts, kissing and sucking and gently biting until Rachel was squirming in front of him. Then his hands moved lower, hooking into the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

"May I?" he asked.

"If you don’t, then I am pulling them down," Rachel breathed.

He pulled them down slowly, revealing her closely trimmed pubic hair. Andy smiled. "Beautiful," he murmured.

Rachel reached for his shorts, tugging them down to free him. He was as well-endowed as she'd felt, thick and hard and ready. She wrapped her hand around him, feeling him pulse against her palm.

"Lie back," Andy said.

Rachel did, stretching out on the cushioned sun deck, the sun warm on her naked body. Andy knelt between her legs, his hands stroking her inner thighs, spreading them wider. Then he lowered his head and put his mouth on her. Rachel cried out, her hips lifting off the deck. Andy's tongue was skilled and patient, exploring every inch of her, finding her clitoris and circling it with maddening precision. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward while his mouth and tongue continued their work.

The first orgasm hit her like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. Rachel's hands fisted in Andy's hair, holding him against her as she shook and gasped. But he didn't stop. He kept going, building her up again, and when the second orgasm crashed through her, she actually screamed, not caring that her voice carried across the empty water. A third followed, smaller but no less intense, leaving her trembling and oversensitive. Andy finally lifted his head, his lips glistening, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You taste like summer," he said.

Rachel laughed, breathless and dizzy. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"By watching and learning," Andy said. "I guess it takes practice."

He reached for something beside the deck, a coil of rope, the kind used for mooring. Rachel's eyes widened.

"Trust me?" Andy asked.

Rachel nodded, beyond words.

“After all, at sea you have to make sure things are fastened down so they don’t move around and damage themselves. Always got to have plenty of rope on a boat”

Andy took her wrists and tied them gently but firmly to the cleats on either side of the deck, then did the same with her ankles, spreading her wide. Rachel tested the bonds and found them secure. She was completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and the thrill of it sent fresh heat coursing through her.

Andy knelt beside her head, his erection level with her mouth. "Say hello to your new best friend," he said.

Rachel opened her mouth and took him in, as much as she could manage from this angle. She worked him with her tongue, tasting salt and skin, feeling him grow even harder. Andy groaned, his hand gentle on her head, not forcing but guiding.

After a few minutes, he pulled back. "I need to be inside you," he said, his voice strained.

He moved between her spread legs, positioning himself at her entrance. Their eyes met, and then he pushed forward, filling her in one slow, steady thrust. Rachel gasped at the sensation, the stretch, the fullness, the perfect friction. Andy began to move, finding a rhythm that had Rachel straining against her bonds, desperate for more. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his arms, and kissed her deeply while he thrust.

"This feels incredible, you feel incredible," he murmured against her lips.

"Harder," Rachel begged. "Please, Andy, harder."

He obliged, driving into her with increasing force, the boat rocking with their movements. It seemed to go on for an age, and then Rachel felt another orgasm building, different from the ones before, deeper, more intense. When it hit, she convulsed around him, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically.

Andy followed moments later, burying himself deep and groaning her name as he came. They stayed locked together for a long moment, both panting, sweat mingling on their skin.

Finally, Andy withdrew and began untying her bonds, massaging her wrists and ankles where the rope had left faint marks. "Are you okay?" he asked. “Did you enjoy the full pirate experience?”

"More than okay," Rachel said. She sat up, feeling deliciously used and satisfied. But when she looked at Andy, she saw he was already beginning to stir again.

"Impressive," she said, wrapping her hand around him.

"You're inspiring," Andy replied.

Rachel leaned forward and took him in her mouth again, this time with more freedom to move. She worked him slowly, using her hand and mouth in tandem, until he was fully hard once more.

Then she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, positioning herself above his erection. She sank down slowly, savouring every inch, watching his face as she took him completely.

"So good," Andy breathed.

Rachel began to ride him, slowly at first, then faster, finding an angle that hit her perfectly with every movement. She braced her hands on his chest, her breasts bouncing with the motion, her head thrown back in pleasure.

Andy's hands gripped her hips, helping to lift and lower her, occasionally delivering a sharp slap to her ass that made her gasp and clench around him. The sun beat down on them, the boat rocked beneath them, and Rachel felt wild and free and more alive than she had in years. As she rose and fell, she felt Andy’s hand move so that it was partially between them, and his fingers found her clitoris and rapidly went to work, increasing the pleasure of every thrust, of every rise and fall her body made.

When her orgasm came, it was explosive, radiating out from her core to every extremity. She cried out, her movements becoming erratic, and felt Andy thrust up hard into her as he came again, his fingers digging into her flesh.

Rachel collapsed forward onto his chest, both of them breathing hard. After a moment, she started to laugh.

"What?" Andy asked, smiling.

"You were right," Rachel said. "Good job no one can see us out here."

Andy chuckled, his hand stroking her back. "I did promise privacy."

They lay together for a while, letting their breathing slow, feeling the sun dry the sweat on their skin. Finally, Rachel sat up and looked around at the empty horizon, and then down at her body.

"I should probably trim this," she said, gesturing to her pubic hair. "I was planning to before the weather got warmer, but I've been lazy."

"I think it's perfect," Andy said. "But if you're planning to visit that deserted island I mentioned, you might want to shave. The sand gets everywhere."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Deserted island?"

"Well, the boat is going there tomorrow, and an extra crew member would be very welcome to help with the anchor" Andy said. "If you're not bored, that is."

"I don't think I'll be bored," Rachel said, leaning down to kiss him. "Not anymore."

With that Rachel stood, and without pausing, jumped off the side of the boat, into the sea. The cool water made her catch her breath, but was a welcome refreshing shot of adrenaline after all the energy that she expended riding her new lover. Andy hooked a ladder over the side, and then jumped in next to her, going under and then surfacing right in front of her and kissing her deeply. Together they swam and splashed like teenagers, enjoying the feeling of the cool water over their bodies, before reluctantly they climbed back onto the boat.

The sun was getting lower now, painting the water gold and orange. Andy pulled on his shorts and helped Rachel find her bikini, scattered across the deck. He helped her dress slowly, stealing kisses, neither quite ready for the afternoon to end.

Andy started the engine and turned the boat back toward land. The picturesque harbour came into view as the sun crept towards the horizon, the tavernas lighting their lamps, the fishing boats heading out for the night.

As they tied up at the dock, Rachel turned to Andy. "So, what time do you want the crew to report for duty tomorrow then?" She smiled, already planning what she'd pack.

"Well after your husband has headed off, I hope, but best to get off reasonably early," Andy said. "Before the sun gets too hot."

"Aye aye Captain. I'll be there," Rachel promised.

As Andy drove her back to the villa, Rachel looked out at the darkening landscape and felt something she hadn't felt in years: anticipation. Her husband would be at the taverna again tomorrow, watching football, drinking with his friends. He wouldn't even notice she was gone. But Andy would notice. Andy, who had reminded her what it felt like to be desired, to be touched with intention and skill. Andy, who had a boat and knew where to find deserted islands.

Rachel smiled to herself. This holiday was turning out very differently than she'd expected.

Much, much better.

When they reached the villa, Andy walked her to the gate. "Sleep well," he said.

"You too," Rachel replied. Then, on impulse, she stood on her toes and kissed him, soft and sweet. "Thank you for today."

"Thank you," Andy said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Rachel said.

She watched him walk back to his villa, then let herself inside. Her husband was not yet back, but she no longer felt anger, just a mild indifference. She went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin was flushed, her lips slightly swollen from kissing, her hair wild from wind and sex. She looked alive.

In the shower, she carefully shaved herself as close as she could, thinking about tomorrow's deserted island, about Andy's hands and mouth and the way he'd made her feel. When she finally climbed into bed, alone, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.