Chapter Three: Andy’s Terrace

Rachel woke to her husband's hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

"Come on," he said. "I thought we could go into town again this morning. No football again today, and the lads aren't back from their trip until just after lunch."

Rachel blinked, momentarily disoriented. This was the third day in a row. For the first two of those her husband had stayed with her all day, taking her into town for lunch, swimming together in the pool, eating in the taverna in the evening. She hoped it was down to a new found realisation that he should be spending more time with her, but he admitted that with a break in the football his friends had gone on a two day boat trip around some nearby islands, and Andy notoriously had no stomach for being on the sea. Her next thoughts were of Andy, of the day she'd been planning in her mind that had been postponed twice already, and she was running out of time to spend more time with him. But she forced a smile and sat up.

"That sounds nice," she said, though her heart was sinking slightly.

They showered, dressed, and had a quick coffee, before getting into the hire car, dressed and driving into town together, her husband chattering about the taverna, his friends, the matches they'd watched. Rachel made appropriate noises, looking out the window at the passing olive groves and the rural houses, thinking about how this was her last full day in Greece. Wondering if she would get to see Andy. They had managed to steal a couple of quick conversations over the fence, so he at least knew that she was not avoiding him. Quite the opposite in fact, she was dying to be in his arms again and she knew he felt the same. He had told her he would stay in his villa so that if she could escape, she knew he would be around. So much for the plans of going on the boat or heading into the villages in the hills to explore the island properly. She had wanted her husband to spend more tine with her at the outset of the holiday, but that want had now turned into a millstone around her neck.

The town was slowly coming alive with morning activity, shopkeepers opening their stores, locals buying bread and vegetables, tourists already claiming spots at cafés. Her husband parked near the harbour, and they wandered through the narrow streets together. It felt strange, almost surreal, browsing the local shops, to be doing something so normal after the two days that she had spent with Andy. They cam again to the harbour side and stopped at a café for coffee, she could see Andy’s boat just a few metres from where they were sitting, see his empty parking space, so tantalising close, and yet with her husband there it was out of reach. Rachel noticed that her husband was checking his phone repeatedly.

"The lads are meeting at one," he said eventually. "I should probably head over soon. I promised I’d pick the up from the boat jetty. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Rachel said, perhaps too quickly. "I'll do a little more shopping, maybe have lunch somewhere. I can easily get a taxi back to the villa when I finish."

"Great," he said, already standing. "I'll probably be back late. There is a match on tonight and it’s quite a late finish."

"No problem this end,” Rachel said, but she smiled to take any edge off the words.

He kissed her cheek to say goodbye, a perfunctory gesture devoid of any passion, and disappeared into the crowd heading back to the car. Rachel sat alone with her coffee, feeling the familiar mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that she was free. Sadness that despite the change in the last two day that this was becoming the background music for her marriage.

She finished her coffee quickly, then wandered back through the streets of shops without really seeing anything, but just intent on getting to the square where the local taxis were to be found. There were several waiting, and she jumped in the one at the head of the queue and gave the driver her villa address. The journey back to the villa was only short, but seemed to pass interminably slowly, her anticipation building with each passing mile.

When the taxi pulled up at the villa, she threw a few Euro notes onto the front seat to cover the charge showing on the meter, with room to spare, and finally let herself into the villa, the silence felt different. Alone again at last. This was her last day. Tomorrow morning, they'd be packing, loading the car, and driving to the airport. Tomorrow, Andy and all of this would be a memory and out of reach.

Rachel hurriedly changed into her red bikini, a vibrant scarlet this time, and walked out to the pool. The water looked impossibly inviting, and she dove in without hesitation, feeling the coolness envelop her. She swam several lengths to work out the tension of waiting from her limbs, trying to calm the nervous energy that was running through her body.

When she surfaced and pushed her wet hair back from her face, she looked up at Andy's terrace. He was there, sitting in his usual chair with a coffee cup, watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled and raised his hand in greeting.

Rachel's heart leaped. She swam to the edge of the pool and called up to him.

"Want to join me?"

Andy set down his cup and stood. "I thought you'd never ask."

Rachel watched as he disappeared from view, then heard his gate open. Moments later, he appeared at the edge of her pool area, wearing only shorts and a smile. Without preamble or hesitation, he pushed his shorts down and kicked them aside, standing gloriously naked in the morning sun.

"Much better," he said, “Let’s go Greek today,” and dove cleanly into the pool.

Rachel laughed as he surfaced beside her, water streaming down his face and chest. He pulled her against him immediately, and they kissed, deep and hungry and urgent. Rachel's hands found his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer. She felt him hardening against her stomach through the thin fabric of her bikini.

"God, I've been thinking about you all day and all night since we went to that Island," Andy murmured against her mouth, the water running down his face as he blinked in the sunlight.

"Me too," Rachel breathed. Her hands slid down his body, finding his erection and wrapping around it. Andy groaned, his hips pushing forward into her grip.

"Wait," he said, pulling back slightly. "Remember the rule – if one of us is nude we all have to be nude. Let's get this off you."

His hands found the clasp of her bikini top, and Rachel let him unfasten it. The top floated away across the pool, and Andy's hands immediately cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. Rachel gasped, with the cool water and the warm hands she melted into his touch.

"I want you," she said. "Right now."

Andy's hand slid down her stomach, pushing inside her bikini bottoms. When his fingers found her clitoris, Rachel cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist. He stroked her expertly, his other hand still playing with her breast, and Rachel felt a rapid and unexpected orgasm building impossibly fast.

"Yes," she breathed. "Don't stop."

But Andy did stop, pulling his hand away. Rachel made a sound of protest until she realized he was looking at the sun, already high in the sky.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Rachel blinked, trying to focus. "I don't know. Eleven? Noon? Maybe later?"

Andy sighed softly. "We can't take the boat out today then. By the time we got anywhere, we'd have to turn around. And I don't want to be rushed today."

Rachel felt a pang of disappointment, but she understood. "So, what do we do today then?"

Andy smiled, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "I have some ideas. But first, let's get out of this pool before your other neighbours get more of a show than they bargained for."

They climbed out together, both naked now, Rachel had pulled off her bikini bottoms and tossed them onto the side of the pool. Andy grabbed her towel and dried her off with slow, deliberate strokes that felt more like foreplay than practical necessity.

"Get dressed," he said. "Something light. I'm taking you to lunch."

"Lunch?" Rachel said. "I thought, "

"Trust me," Andy interrupted. "I'm going to make today memorable. But we need to pace ourselves. And we can talk to each other properly if we are in a place where I can’t rip your clothes off every five minutes."

Rachel nodded, feeling a flutter of something in her chest, anticipation mixed with a hint of sadness. She went inside and pulled on a simple black sundress over her still-damp skin, not bothering with underwear. When she emerged, Andy was dressed in linen trousers and a loose shirt, looking effortlessly handsome.

They walked together through the narrow streets, Andy's hand occasionally finding the small of her back or her hip. The touch felt possessive and tender at the same time. He led her to a small taverna tucked away from the main street their villas were on, a taverna Rachel had not even known existed, a place with a hidden vine-covered terrace and only a handful of tables.

The owner greeted Andy like an old friend, showing them to a corner table with a view of the sea. They ordered wine and food, grilled fish, fresh Greek salad, bread still warm from the oven. The wine was cold and crisp, and Rachel felt herself relaxing into the moment.

"This is lovely," she said.

"I wanted somewhere we could talk," Andy said. "We know so little about each other."

The food came, and Andy drizzled olive oil and vinegar over the Greek salad with a well-practiced ease. Then they ate slowly, the conversation flowing easily. They talked about the past two days, the boat, the island, the intensity of what had happened between them. Andy made her laugh with stories about his early retirement, his decision to spend more time in searching for the perfect Greek Island. Rachel found herself opening up about her marriage, her growing realization that she'd been sleepwalking through her life and that meeting Andy had opened her eyes to all sorts of exciting possibilities.

"I don't know what happens when I go home," she admitted. "I don't know if I can go back to the way things were."

"Then don't," Andy said simply. "Life's too short to be unhappy. Don’t live life in a pair of comfortable slippers just because you have never worn dancing shoes."

Rachel looked at him across the table, this man who'd awakened something in her she hadn't known was sleeping. "I wish I'd met you years ago."

"Maybe you weren't ready years ago," Andy said. "That’s the thing about sudden unexpected meetings. Maybe this was exactly when it needed to happen. Greece is the home of the God’s and maybe they have chosen this moment to smile down on you. And on me as well, but mainly on you. I am just the tool they chose."

“Well, I have no complaints about the tool,” said Rachel, blushing as the older lady at the next table looked up suddenly and caught her eye.

They finished their meal and lingered over coffee, neither wanting to break the spell. But eventually, Andy paid the bill and stood, offering his hand.

"Come on," he said. "I promised to make today memorable."

They walked back to his villa, and Rachel felt her pulse quicken as they climbed the stairs to his terrace. The view was spectacular, the sea stretching endlessly, the sun high and bright, the air warm and still.

Andy disappeared inside and returned carrying several pieces of rope. Rachel's breath caught.

"Have you ever been tied up before I tied you to the deck on the boat?" he asked.

"No," Rachel admitted. "Never."

"Do you trust me?"

Rachel looked into his eyes and found only warmth and care. "Well if I am going to trust anyone with rope then it is going to be a sailor. So it’s a big yes."

"Then lie down on the table," Andy said. "On your back."

Rachel climbed onto the sturdy wooden table that sat at the front of the terrace, her heart beating faster. Andy helped her position herself, then began to work with the rope. His movements were practiced and confident, and Rachel realized this wasn't his first time doing this.

He tied her wrists first, securing them to the table legs at the corners. Then her ankles, spreading her legs wide. The position was vulnerable and exposing, and Rachel felt a rush of arousal so intense it made her dizzy.

"How does that feel?" Andy asked.

"Good," Rachel breathed. "Really good. You certainly know your way with a knot. Comfortable, but at the same time I can hardly move"

Andy smiled and produced a silk scarf. "That’s the plan. Now close your eyes."

Rachel obeyed, and felt the soft fabric settle over her eyes, blocking out the light. Andy tied it gently behind her head, and suddenly Rachel's world narrowed to sensation, the warmth of the sun on her skin, the slight breeze, the sound of Andy moving around her.

She heard him set something down on the table beside her, then felt his hands on her dress. He pushed it up slowly, exposing her body inch by inch. First, she felt it pulled up above her waist, exposing her shaven groin, and when he lifted it over her breasts, he paused.

"No underwear at all," he said, his voice thick with approval. "You're my kind of sub girl."

His hands cupped her breasts 0nce again, thumbs brushing over her nipples. Rachel felt her nipples respond and become hard under his skilled touch and felt herself pulling against the ropes. The restraint made every sensation more intense, more focused. She couldn't move, couldn't see, could only feel with a heightened sense making up for her lack of vision. Andy's mouth replaced his hands, sucking and licking her nipples until Rachel was gasping. Then he moved lower, his lips trailing over her stomach, her hips. When his mouth found her clitoris, Rachel cried out, her hips lifting as much as the ropes allowed.

But Andy didn't stay there. He pulled back, and Rachel heard a soft buzzing sound. Then something smooth and vibrating pressed against her clitoris, and Rachel actually screamed at the touch.

"Oh God," she gasped. "You kinky thing Andy, "

"Just feel it," Andy said. "Don't think. Just feel."

He worked the toy expertly, varying the pressure and speed, occasionally dipping it lower to press deep inside her. Rachel lost track of time, lost track of everything except the building pleasure. When her first orgasm hit, she pulled hard against the ropes once again, her body twisting and convulsing.

But Andy didn't stop. He kept the toy moving, his other hand sliding inside her, his fingers curling to find her pleasure centre. Rachel came again, then again, until she was sobbing with pleasure, her body hypersensitive and trembling.

Finally, Andy turned off the toy and set it aside. Rachel heard him move, then felt his mouth on her again, his tongue licking her gently, almost soothingly. The contrast after the intensity of the toy was exquisite.

"Please," Rachel gasped. "I need you inside me."

"Not yet," Andy said. "There is something more before we get there."

He untied her ankles first, then her wrists. Rachel's arms felt heavy and weak as she lay there on the table. Then she felt Andy begin to turn her over and manoeuvre her position on the table. She was now lying flat on her stomach, sideways on the table and Andy retied her wrists to the legs at one side of the table, whilst her waist was now at the other side of the table, making her bend at the waist, with her legs reaching towards the floor. Her ankles were tied to the bottom of the table legs. Leaving her legs spread very wide and exposing the shaved entrance to her vagina. She felt a cooling breeze blowing between her legs, which was very welcome after the toy had done everything to set her insides on fire. She felt the table moving as Andy twisted and repositioned it on the terrace

Then Andy removed her blindfold.

Rachel blinked in the sudden brightness and found herself looking out towards the blue sea. The view was spectacular, and the awareness that she was tied naked on a terrace, visible to anyone who might look, sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. The sea may have been the main part of the view, but with the table now right against the end of the terrace, placed at the top of the external stairs, the table and Rachel were now clearly visible to a number of neighbouring villas, as well as the road at the bottom of their properties.

"Beautiful," Andy said behind her. "You're so beautiful like this. Its only right I let others experience this view of you as well as me"

Rachel felt his hand on her ass, caressing gently. Then a light slap, not hard, just enough to sting slightly. Rachel gasped, surprised by how much she liked it.

"More?" Andy asked.

"Yes," Rachel breathed.

He spanked her again, alternating cheeks, building a warm, tingling sensation in her derriere. The sound rang out gently around them. Rachel watched the road and the neighbouring properties nervously in case someone saw them and looked up Then she heard Andy pick something up, and a moment later, something flat and firm struck her ass, harder than his hand, but still controlled.

"Paddle," Andy explained. "Tell me if it's too much. And do not worry, today I am holding back. No marks, low pain. Don’t want that husband wondering why you have a red bum when he sees you get out of the bed in the morning."

And it wasn't too much. It was perfect. The sharp sting followed by Andy's soothing hand, the vulnerability of her position, the view of the sea, the chance of being seen, it all combined into something intensely erotic. Rachel found herself pushing back, asking for more, wanting it to be harder. But she knew Andy was right – a red raw bum would not have been missed by hubby.

"God, you're incredible," Andy said. "You’re a natural at this. I wish I could build up the level for you." He gave her a dozen more strikes with the paddle, then set it aside. His hand slid between her legs, finding her soaking wet.

"One day," Rachel gasped, "I want to try the cane."

Andy groaned. "You're going to kill me. But yes. One day, when we have more time, I'll spank you a lot harder and introduce you to the cane properly."

He untied her then, helping her stand on shaky legs. Rachel turned to face him, and he pulled her into a deep kiss.

"Come here," he said, leading her to the railings at the edge of the terrace.

The railing was waist-high, and Andy positioned Rachel facing it, bending her forward so her hands gripped the metal bars. From this position, she could see down into the neighbouring villas, could see the street below. Anyone looking up would see her clearly.

"Andy," she said, her voice uncertain.

"Trust me," he said. "This is what you need. And if anyone does see you, you will never see them again, so enjoy the moment, and let them enjoy the view"

He pushed his trousers down and positioned himself behind her. When he entered her in one smooth thrust, Rachel cried out, not caring who might hear. He gripped her hips and began to move, each thrust deep and powerful. The risk of being seen, the exposure, the intensity of the day, it all crashed over Rachel at once. She looked out at the sea, at the villas below, at the endless blue sky, and felt utterly, completely free.

As Rachel looked down, she saw a couple walking along the road, who were trying hard not to look like they were watching them closely. But watching her they were, and Andy was right. It was erotic, and she didn’t care who was looking. She was getting fucked and that was all that mattered. The couple moved on, a lot more slowly than a normal walking pace, and Andy continued fucking her. Then a jeep went to park in the road and gave a couple of toots on the horn. Were they signalling someone. Rachel wasn’t sure, but when the woman gave a wave and then drove off Rachel was sure, she was starring in her own little sex show.

"Yes," she gasped. "Harder. Don't stop."

She looked around again, it was getting harder to concentrate on the surroundings when her brain was determined to make her focus on the feelings growing inside her, the pounding was intense. And then she saw someone, a lot closer. There was a lady on the poolside of the villa next to Andy’s villa, the opposite side to her own villa. And she was staring straight up at Rachel, taking in every thrust that she was receiving. Rachel suddenly realised who it was. It was the older woman from the restaurant who had caught her eye when she had mentioned being satisfied with the tool, that lovely double entendre that had made her blush. She was not blushing now, and the lady was looking straight up at them fucking, and that was not all. Rachel could clearly see she had her dress raised and a hand was down the front of her knickers. It was not just her who was getting pleasure from Andy’s cock tonight.

Andy didn't stop. He too had seen the audience, and he fucked Rachel with increasing speed and force, one hand reaching around to play with her clitoris. Rachel felt her orgasm building, different from all the others, bigger, the audience was definitely a big part of it

"I'm going to come," she gasped. "I’m almost there."

"Come for me," Andy grunted. "Let them all hear you."

Rachel came with a scream that echoed across the villas, her inner muscles clenching around Andy's cock. He followed moments later, burying himself deep and groaning her name as he filled her.

They stayed locked together for a long moment, both trembling, before Andy carefully withdrew. He turned Rachel around and kissed her deeply, tenderly.

"Inside," he said. "I'm not done with you yet."

They both looked around and gave a wave to their audience, and then stumbled into his bedroom, leaving their clothes scattered on the terrace. The room was cool and dim after the bright sunlight, and the bed looked inviting.

Andy lay down and pulled Rachel on top of him, positioning her so they were head to toe. Rachel understood immediately, lowering her mouth to his cock while his tongue found her clitoris. The position felt intimate and intense, both of them pleasuring each other simultaneously. Rachel took him deep, loving the taste of herself on his skin, while Andy's mouth was working overtime and soon took her body closer and closer to another orgasm. It did not take long, and when she came, she had to pull her mouth away, crying out against his thigh. Andy kept licking her through the aftershocks, then gently turned her around.

"I want to see your face," he said.

Rachel’s oral ministrations had rapidly had an effect, and Andy’s cock was once again pointing upwards and ready for action. Rachel straddled him, then lifted herself and sank down onto his erection, settling down so she had taken the whole length. They both groaned at the sensation. Rachel began to move, picking up a steady rhythm, but Andy stopped her.

"No," he said. "I’m the one doing the work today. Let me have the honour."

He rolled them over, so he was on top, settling himself comfortably between her spread legs. The missionary position felt different after everything else, more intimate, more connected. Andy braced himself on his forearms, his face close to hers, kissed her deeply, and then began to move with slow, deep strokes. Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands on his back, and they moved together in perfect rhythm. Their eyes stayed locked, and Rachel that this was genuinely the peak of her time with Andy.

"Andy," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "Life has never felt better than when I am with you.”

They made love slowly, tenderly, building toward yet another climax together. When Rachel came, it was with tears in her eyes, and Andy followed moments later, his face buried in her neck as he groaned her name. And then all was quiet. They lay tangled together in an erotic knot, neither speaking, just breathing in synchronised peace. The afternoon light slanted through the windows, painting patterns on the walls.

Eventually, Andy stirred. "Stay here," he said. "I'll be right back."

He returned with two glasses of brandy and led Rachel out onto the balcony. They stood naked together, looking out at the sea as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. Their neighbour had gone inside, the road was quiet, and they had the sea view all to themselves.

"I don't want this to end," Rachel said quietly.

"Then don’t let it," Andy said. "I intend to be in England regularly. We can see each other."

"It won't be the same," Rachel said.

"No," Andy agreed. "But it will be different. You are a different person now, and after all, something is better than nothing."

They sipped their brandy in silence, watching the sky turn gold and orange and pink. Rachel felt the weight of the approaching goodbye settling over her like a physical thing.

"I should go," she said finally. "Before it gets too late. I have to pack and a husband to get ready for."

Andy nodded, taking her glass, while Rachel gathered up her discarded clothes. They went inside, and Rachel pulled on her sundress. Andy dressed too, and they stood facing each other in his living room.

"Thank you," Rachel said. "For everything. For making me feel alive again."

"Thank you," Andy replied. "For trusting me. For being brave enough to take what you wanted. For letting me be there for you and to share your journey."

They kissed one last time, long and deep and desperate. When they finally broke apart, Rachel had tears streaming down her face.

Andy said. "I promise." Andy handed her a business card with his phone number on. “It’s the best way to get hold of me. I'll see you in England.”

"You better," Rachel said, trying to smile through her tears. “Funny. That’s the first time I’ve known your full name.”

She walked to the door, then turned back one more time. Andy was standing in the middle of the room, looking at her with an expression that made her heart ache.

"Goodbye, Andy."

"Not goodbye," he said. "Just farewell until next time."

Rachel nodded and left, closing the door behind her. She walked the short distance to her villa, slowly composing herself for a return to real life. Inside, she went straight to the bathroom and stood under the shower, letting the water wash away the salt and sweat and tears. When she finally climbed into bed, she could hear the sounds of the Greek night, and in the distance some music playing on Andy’s terrace. The sound was both comforting and heartbreaking.

Tomorrow, she'd be leaving. Tomorrow, this would all be over.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Rachel was up early. She woke early and finished packing her case, folding clothes and gathering toiletries. Her husband was already up, and he soon loaded their bags into the hire car with the efficiency of someone eager to get home.

Rachel moved through the villa one last time, checking drawers and cupboards. Everything looked the same as when they'd arrived. It was Rachel that had changed. She wasn't the same woman who'd arrived here a week ago.

"Ready?" her husband called from outside.

"Almost," Rachel said.

She walked out to the pool one last time, looking up at Andy's terrace. It was empty. Her heart sank.

They climbed into the car, and her husband started the engine. As they began to reverse out of the drive, Rachel looked up at the two villas. And there he was. Andy, standing at the window of the bedroom they had shared such times in yesterday evening, one hand raised in farewell.

Rachel raised her hand too, then blew Andy a kiss, pressing her palm against the car window in a final salute. Their eyes met across the distance, and Rachel felt something welling up as she tried not to shed anymore tears

Then her husband set them off towards the airport.

Rachel settled into her seat. The road stretched ahead, leading them away from the holiday, from the island, from the villa, but mostly from Andy, away from the island, away from Andy. But not forever. Not if she had anything to say about it. She made a vow to see him as soon as possible, as she headed further from him. But she knew there would always be Andy somewhere inside her. Always.