Written by keeepa
7 Mar 2010
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14 minute read
She reached for the bottle of water, and took a sip. The heat of the Grecian day was building and by now the water was no longer cold.
Shifting her position against the rock, she watched another small boat off- load its passengers, and pull away. It was easy spot the ones who had been there for a while. They moved quickly to their favourite spot and settled down fussily for a hard days sunbathing. The newer ones wandered around discussing where they thought would be good until, sometimes after two or three false starts, they too settled down.
It was not just the indecision that made the newcomers stand out, it was their colour. They were white, and looked even whiter compared to the golden brown of the regulars.
She remembered her first day, how awkward and unattractive she’d felt, but congratulated herself on not doing too much too soon, so she avoided the harsh painful redness that affected so many.
It had been five days now and she looked down, nicely brown.
The beach was a naturist beach, just the words still shocked her; but she had to admit that after the initial nervousness she’d never be able to go back to normal sunbathing. The feeling of the sun on her whole body was sensual, the little gust of wind that teased her nipples and her pubic hair, almost like a lover, and when she paddled and ducked under the water, she could feel her breasts floating,
She smiled to herself as she remembered how scared she’d been of coming on holiday on her own. She wanted her husband to come but he’d thought travel was pointless,
“What’s wrong with England, you know I hate foreign food?”
In anger and frustration she‘d said that she’d go on her own, and when he’d agreed, pride wouldn’t let her back down.
The owners of the small taverna had made it so easy for her, sitting her in a corner for her meals, and advising her, contrary to what her instinct told her, that the safest beach for single attractive woman was the naturist beach. She’d enjoyed the compliment but it was true it was true. Apart from the occasional sympathetic or curious smile from strangers, she’d been left alone.
She’d created a defensive wall by pretending to read, and wearing dark sunglasses and a large hat, which enabled her to discreetly watch the others, hopefully, without them realising.
When even that became too energetic, she closed her eyes. This unfortunately made her think, and she didn’t like the ways her thoughts were taking her.
She‘d been married 18 years, married to what every one thought was “good” man. He was she admitted to herself! “He works hard, drinks very little, keeps the garden nice, upto date with those little jobs round the house………. and boring!”
She was shocked when she’d finished doing the list of good things about the man she’d married and lived with, that with all the good things about him, the one thing that overrode everything was that he was boring. She savoured the word……… boring.
Boring to talk to! boring to be with,! boring bloody boring. She enjoyed the alliteration so much she said it again….bloody bloody boring.
She’d smiled to herself… bloody bollocking boring…and had felt guilty. But the flood gates had opened……, “and he hums to himself, and, er, and he bites his thumb nail when he’s thinking, and he slurps his tea and he’s no good in bed”.
The last one shocked her, “and he’s no good in bed”, she said it again as if she was admitting it for the first time, and she needed someone who knew what she wanted, who knew where to touch and who didn’t cum after three strokes, my God she thought, I want to be fucked!!
She opened her eyes and looked around, frightened that her thoughts could be read, but everything was the same.
Leaning back she realised that the uninspiring sex was the source of her unhappiness, “no! “unhappiness” wasn’t the word, “dissatisfaction” yes that’s the word, dissatisfaction”, with her life could be put down to some something as simple and over-riding as that.
She’d always hidden it, or hidden from it, but now she knew. It didn’t matter if he hummed, or chewed his nail or slurps his tea, they were unimportant. What was important was that she needed the sort of sex she’d only read about and was now dreaming, fantasising, about
The revelation astounded her, and more, the fact that she’d admitted it to herself astounded her.
A light had appeared in her brain, the mist was clearing and suddenly the future seemed clearer and easier. She leant back against the rock and closed her eyes again, and let the sun, and her revelation, wash over her, and this time didn’t banish the erotic thoughts that flooded in.
She was there again early the next day, jealous of her place, and had even smiled shyly at a few of the people that she recognised, but the barrier that she’d erected at first, that had given her so much comfort now only accentuated her loneliness. She didn’t know if yesterday’s revelations had caused this, but what had once been solitude was now loneliness.
But at least she’d now got the confidence to look, still discreetly, but not the embarrassed, furtive glances of the first days. She could now admire the bodies of the young men and women, not sexually she told herself, but in spite of that she had to admit that she did like the hard firm bums of the young men, and the dark glasses helped her watch without being too obvious.
There was one who she’d spotted early, finely muscled all over suntan, so athletic when he moved, and she remembered that as she’d drifted off to sleep he’d come into her mind, and she’d felt the need, and for the first time in years she’d let her hands move down till she found the spot, and she was surprised at the intensity of her orgasm.
She’d smiled wryly when his boyfriend joined him a couple of days later, but felt a sense of waste!!
She’d watched a couple in their thirties, Italian she’d guessed, who were overtly in love, forever touching and stoking and applying sun cream onto each other often, much too often, she thought.
Once, as she’d watched , he’d developed an erection and the girl had covered it with her hands before he’d turned over and she’d slapped him playfully on his naked bum, but had left her fingers discreetly between his cheeks, moving slightly
She found after a while that’s he was enjoying the freedom from clothes, from the need to be responsible, and now , since her revelation , the freedom not to feel guilt.
She was deep into her reverie when the ball bounced against her feet and came to rest in her lap
“Sorry..Can I have my ball back please?”
She looked up and because the sun was behind him could only see his silhouette smiling she tossed it gently back to him, and had watched as he walked away. He was medium build and with a light tan. Nice!.She thought. and drifted away again. The ball hit her again, and again he said
“Sorry can I have my ball back please?”
This time he knelt in front of her,
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were doing it on purpose!”
She’d expected a denial,
“Of course I’m doing it on purpose, how else can I get to speak to you” he laughed.
He picked the ball up, threw it back to a coupe of friends and said,
“May I?” and without waiting he sat down, from behind her glasses she saw how un-self conscious he was, his cock and balls hanging loosely between his open thighs…he was talking and she’d missed what he said,
“Oh sorry what did you say?”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, but you seemed to want to be alone”
And so the conversation started a conversation that meandered through the morning and through a whole range of subjects. He was easy to talk to and listened attentively, only occasionally letting his gaze drop to her naked body, but then she’d done the same so she didn’t feel threatened. Once she’d been deliciously shocked as she’d seen his cock begin to stir and fill and he’d reached down and adjusted it with a smile but not embarrassed.
“Fancy a swim?” he’d said “It’s hot”
“Probably a good idea but I’m not a good swimmer” she confessed,
“I’ll not let you drown, mainly because the water only comes to your waist”
They’d walked chastely apart into the sea and although the water was warm she shivered involuntarily, and, gathering her courage, she ducked under the water, but only to her neck, when she stood up she saw he was looking at her, and more precisely at her now erect nipples,
“Water cold?” he laughed, and to her surprise so did she, and, looking down at him, she said
“Yes it is isn’t it”
He reached for her hands and walked backwards holding her whilst she swum sedately in front of him, and although nervous of the water slowly began to trust him
Suddenly bold she said,
“Stand away from me I want to swim” he backed away and she plunged forward, a few inelegant strokes and she felt herself sinking, but before she could panic, she felt his hands supporting her, one on her chest and the other low on her tummy, she tensed then relaxed and laughed up into his face,
“Don’t let go! And don’t move your hands!”
“I’ll promise the first. I’m not sure about the second”
For a while he walked gently with her then took his bottom hand away and she kicked furiously but her legs sunk and she panicked
Pulling her upright they laughed together and walked back to the beach and as she bent down to get her towel he took it from her she didn’t resist as he patted her dry.
They sat down and she reached for her sun cream, and it seemed natural that he’d take it from her
“Lie down I’ll put some on for you”
She lay on her front and felt a shiver as the cold drops hit her and he massaged the cream carefully into her, taking much longer than was necessary, but it was so soothing that she drifted away, revelling in the sensuous feelings
She was brought back to reality by a soft slap on her bum
“That sides done, turn over”
She hesitated understanding the sub text, she knew she wanted something extra out of life, but was this it?
She knew if she turned over where it would lead, where her body wanted it to lead, and where upto now she certainly wouldn’t have let it lead. Time passed and he continued, caressing cream into the cheeks of her bum with gentle circular movements, each time parting and closing.
She turned over, subconsciously covering herself with her hands, and he started on her toes, then her feet, gentle non sexual movements, her calves, then a long time on her thighs, massaging smoothing until she suddenly realised that her hands were no longer covering herself but were above her head, abandoning herself to him.
Slowly higher and she needed him to touch her, but he didn’t, he just caressed the join between her stomach and thigh, the front of her thighs, the delicate skin on the inside her thighs high, so close, everywhere but where she truly wanted and needed.
He poured some more sun onto his hands cream and gently rubbed her tummy, she breathed in, aware that she’d a few more pounds there than she’d like and then he touched her breasts, her nipples immediately became erect and he let the flat of his hand run over them.
Gently he massaged her breasts and,, when she let out an involuntarily moan, he moved his hand down and touched her pubic hair and let his finger touch her lips.
She thought she was going to say
“No” but what she said was “no..not here”
He held her hands and pulled her up, she saw he was semi erect and he covered himself lazily with the towels and bags.
She followed him into the pine trees behind the beach and watched, impatiently as he fussily laid her towel out, lifting it once to remove a small pine cone then, when he was satisfied, he turned to her.
“OK?” it was at once a question and a statement!
She lay down on her back, and looked through the canopy of needles into the blue sky above. She felt removed but shivered again as he started to caress her thighs, gently at first but with an intimacy that wasn’t there before, higher and nearer he got and now she knew that she couldn’t stop him but was pleased that he made it easy for her by gently, but insistently, forcing her legs apart,
His fingers touched her, lightly, all around her lips, his thumb brushed her clitoris, pressing and feeling her react, then down along her lips, not forcing them open, but waiting for them to soften in acceptance.
He pressed gently and she opened, so wet and ready that his thumb could have slipped inside , but still he resisted, until in frustration in desperation she pushed her hips up and he was into her.
Her hand moved to his thigh and touched his erection, hard and hot, and held it, testing it, squeezing. He leant forward and kissed her nipples and she pushed up to him and in the distance she could hear the occasional shout and splash, a harsh scream of a motorbike and a single cicada chirruping and then she was lost in the sound of her own breathing as he explored her depths with his thumb, his finger touching her rectum.
She pulled him harder enjoying the hardness in her hand, wanting him inside her, but she also didn’t want him to stop what he was doing and risk breaking the moment, deep inside she felt it starting, and she didn’t want that yet.
She stopped his hand, and stood up shakily, and when he looked at her questioningly she whispered,
She straddled him and circled him with her fingers then fed him into her, moving so that she soon felt his balls against her, and she felt him deep, as if touching her heart.
She began to move and knew that again her orgasm was close and her eyes closed in concentration, small intense movements, using her muscles to milk him.
A noise made her open her eyes and in the bushes she saw a youth, about 20, watching them, and she knew that from the movement of his arm, that he was masturbating. He watched her through hooded eyes, and she watched him defiantly.
Suddenly the spasms hit her and she threw her head back and cried out but kept moving untill she felt him grunt and thrust and she felt the stickiness, running from her.
When she looked up the youth had gone and she collapsed forward onto his chest into the coarse hair she whispered
“Thank you I needed that”
They had dinner that night with too much wine and made love drunkenly, this time he went on top and she revelled in his weight on her, drawing him into her revelling in the hardness.
When she woke up in the morning she looked at his morning erection pushing the sheet up and for the first time she realised she could henceforth decide that she could have the sex now, or later, or even not at all, and laying there in the bright early morning she knew what she had to do
It was her choice; her life was now her choice.
She slipped into some jeans and a t-shirt and ran/walked into town to the telephone. She didn’t care what time it was at home , when her husband answered the phone she said firmly,
“We’ve got to talk now. I’ve made a decision