Holiday Memories

The Greek sun beat down on the Mediterranean shore as I cast my eyes along the beach. The temperature had passed 40 degrees Centigrade and the place was a furnace. There was no wind to speak of and many people who had ventured from the hotel shade were seeking refuge from the heat in the sea. It was a small resort with just a small number of hotels and restaurants, no fantastic night-life to attract hordes of youngsters but just fine for me. This was the height of the summer season, the folks on holiday were a mixture of families, young couples and even a few pensioners. Most of the women were of course topless, a minority kept their tops on - like anyone cared about their modesty.

My wife was a fully signed up member of the minority and declined my efforts to reveal herself, keeping all of her bikini on at all times. This had been the subject of many a discussion between us over the years - why she always denied me an eyeful I could never work out. 'Bugger everyone else, give me a flash', I'd say. We were both recently turned thirty years of age, in my opinion past childish modesty and fast approaching that time of life where people should cease to care what others think of them on the beach.

However, to no avail, Sue was steadfastly shy of allowing anyone to see her uncovered. This was completely in character; years previously when we had started seeing each other it had had been several weeks before even I had been permitted to view her chest. She was quite embarrassed by her tiny proportions and more than once I caught her looking over the classified advertisements in the back pages of women's magazines where the cosmetic surgeons showed images of plastic ladies with smiles as fake as their man-made extras.

However I loved her pert nipples on those miniature, gentle soft swells of flesh set high on her rib-cage, which likely would never suffer the depressing effects of gravity. Those firm nubs would become erect at the slightest stimulation though and I'd often joke that she should be careful where she pointed them or she'd have my eyes out.

Sue really didn't believe that I was fond of her tiny tits and trim waist, together with those narrow hips and slim legs long enough to give her a slender, statuesque silhouette. So she kept her almost flat, empty bikini top firmly in place, whilst all around her women who really did need to cover themselves flaunted their massive rolls of floppy flesh with huge saucers of areolae. Some of them lay with their lumps of blubber falling sideways into their armpits, then strolling unashamed with their slack bellies hanging over their bikini bottoms, bulbous breasts drooping down to their navels.

There was some worthwhile eye candy passing however and little to prevent me from taking peeks at it. A constant line of holidaymakers were strolling in the shallows, right along the length of the beach. Many of the topless ladies were well worth taking a second look at and some were clearly basking in the sly glances from men. Sometimes you could see them breathing in to emphasise their breasts when they realised they were being watched. Now and then I'd see one take a cooling dip and then squeeze the water out of her hair, arms raised to improve the angle of dangle.

Sue read a novel as we rested in the shade of rented parasols, in a comfortable silence like many married couples. I was also reading a cheap thriller but taking the opportunity to cast periodic looks around, always on the look-out for a perfect pair of protuberances; headlights well above the horizon. Many of the men strolling past kept an endlessly steady gaze to the landward, as if intrigued by the hills and forestry in the distance. Not peeking at the sunbathing ladies, of course.

I watched a man walk past me towards the water's edge with stomach sucked in in a vain attempt to defy years of dedicated beer consumption but any illusion failed as he started hopping and running across the burning sand. When he reached the cool water he realised that his belly had collapsed and tried in vain to suck it back in over the top of his shorts.

In the distance I recognised a family group who were staying at the same hotel as ourselves. I idly watched as the man played with their daughter, a girl aged about three. They were trying to build a sandcastle but the sand refused to stay in the same shape. They resorted to digging a simple moat around a soggy sand hillock allowing the sea to fill the ditch. The wife looked on bored, modestly wearing an expensive looking pale blue one-piece bathing suit.

As it was the Mediterranean, there was little tide and no waves worthy of the name - just ripples lapping on the shore and relentlessly dissolving the miserable sandcastle.

The woman was the type that I'd describe as high-maintenance. Even on the beach she wore make-up and had her short hair tightly pinned back with a strange little feather woven in. She looked very elegant but out of place amongst the informality of a Greek island beach. When I had seen her previously in the hotel she was always immaculately presented with manicured nails and expensive looking clothes. She was about 30 years old, quite slim and to tell the truth strikingly good looking - if not classically pretty. She had a distinctive walk; a swaying strut with her head held high and shoulders back, hips and butt swivelling provocatively. Not afraid to show her cleavage, she usually wore slinky little dresses showing acres of back and shoulders.

As her glance wandered in my direction I returned to my book.

* * *

After a while I noticed that the mother and daughter had vanished; the husband remained alone, sitting with his legs being washed by the lapping sea. I idly checked out the parade of paddlers and eventually spotted the pair as tiny specks in the distance, right at the far end of the beach where the low cliff met the sea. They remained there for about an hour or so before returning, damp after a swim.

* * *

The next day my wife and I picked a spot at the end of the beach. We set down the towels and supplies for the day and sat down. The low cliff in that area was not actually made of rock but of a hard clay which was being eroded by the sea, causing chunks to fall onto the beach.

After a couple of hours of people-watching I saw the lady with the feather in her hair, with her daughter coming towards us. They didn't seem to recognise us but sat down amongst the fallen bits of clay.

The girl started playing in the shallows and her mother picked up some mud, wet from a pool. Intrigued, I watched as she squidged the substance between her fingers into a smooth paste which she then applied as a face-pack on them both, as if they were in a beauticians parlour.

She continued to smear it all over the exposed skin of the child. After the child was covered on her face, legs, arms and body, she lay down in the sun.

I saw the lady spread the grey cream over her own limbs. Trying to pretend to read my book, I watched out of the corners of my eyes as she swiftly peeled down her swim-suit to her waist and spread the mud over her belly and then over her breasts, which lifted and fell gently with a bounce as her hands moved hypnotically.

She was not what I'd call busty, and with her suit pulled down she had small perky boobs with brown nipples which were still pointing upwards, probably a B cup, I guessed. A bit more than my wife who has just a mouthful on each side and wears a 34AA bra. The woman was possibly a B cup, I thought. With some contorting, she also managed to smear herself on her back. I was briefly reminded of an Amazonian tree frog covering itself with its own poison. A very attractive and sexy frog with muddy breasts.

Both then lay down on a dry flat area, letting the relentlessly hot sun bake down on them. When the clay was hard and crumbling and nearly white in colour once more, the two got up and walked into the sea, letting it wash away in swirls of murky water. They then came back out onto the sand and the mother pulled her swimsuit back up. They then walked back along the beach.

After a lengthy wait to allow my erection to subside, I was able to turn over onto my back. My attention well and truly caught, the next day I kept a keen eye out for the family group.

When I spotted them, they were sitting together on the beach a short distance away from our spot back in the centre of the beach. The lady was wearing a different swimsuit, with a pale asymmetrical design in a thin material which looked as if it had been specially made for her. The costume showed the swell of her breasts and the distinct outline of her nipples poking through. She had a clip of beads in her hair replacing the feather and a matching necklace hanging low in her cleavage.

After a short while however the father rose and took the child away in the direction of the hotel.

The mother sat alone on her towel before lowering the top of her swimsuit, carefully this time. She tightly rolled the material down all the way to her hips and pulled the sides up high with the rear tucked between her buttocks, converting her all-in-one costume into a thong bikini bottom.

She sat still for a while, then she rose and walked quickly across the burning sand to the water's edge, carrying a small purse which she then fastened to her rolled swimsuit at the side of her hip. She walked out until she was thigh-deep and then without a flinch against the shock of the cool water, made a smooth dive which raised her exposed bum in the air. She disappeared with barely a ripple, surfacing some distance away and starting an easy front crawl stroke.

She swam swiftly away around the edge of the cliff and out of my sight. I stayed watching out for an hour or so but eventually gave up and returned to reading my book.

A long time later I suddenly became aware of her sitting back on her towel. She still had her swimsuit rolled down into the thong and she was leaning back on her arms with her tanned breasts jutting upwards, drying in the sun. Then she looked in my direction and our eyes met. I quickly tried to look away but it was too late, she had seen me staring at her. To my horror she then climbed up to her feet and started to walk towards me.

Breasts and necklace swinging gently, swimsuit tightly fitted against her pubic mound, she came across the space between us and knelt down with her knees wide apart on the sand next to me and my wife. Boy, was I in trouble, I thought. Caught leering at a topless woman on the beach - and she was about to confront me and my wife. Please someone, spirit me out of here now!

"Hello, I thought I saw you here," she said.

* * *

I was frozen with fear and unable to speak as she steadied herself and settled, her dark brown nipples and smooth coffee coloured breasts just inches from my face, the slight roundness of her tanned belly framed by the rolled swimsuit as it curved over her hips. "Aren't you staying at our hotel, I've seen you at breakfast".

Sue replied first "Oh yes, you have a daughter, don't you".

To my eternal amazement the two women then started to have a completely banal conversation about the hotel, best local restaurants, what their husbands did for a living, where they lived and a thousand other things completely beyond my interest - all the time with those lovely brown nipples staring me in the face.

It turned out that her name was Fiona, her husband was a salesman for a paint company and I can't remember anything because her nipples were staring at me, her knees were apart and Oh-My-God I could see the crease of a camel-toe through the thin material. I heard something about her mentioning that their daughter wanted to play in the hotel pool with the other children but afterwards it was like trying to remember the questions at a job interview.

After several minutes of this, Fiona asked if we had tried swimming around the cliff to the coast around the corner; apparently it was something she regularly did and it was much quieter and more peaceful there. My wife replied that she was not a good swimmer, which is true. She's able to float and propel herself around for short distances but anything out of her depth makes her very nervous.

I found my voice and said lamely that I generally kept my wife company so I hadn't tried it. After I managed to collect myself a bit and tried to make a few contributions to the conversation even with a wisecrack or two. Eventually Fiona jumped up making her bits bounce in all the right ways and returned to her towel leaving me in a state of shock.

Sue commented that Fiona seemed 'nice'.

I replied that it was a 'bit disconcerting' having a conversation with a stranger wearing so little. She agreed.

* * *

The next day Fiona called out and waved to us at the beach. This time she was wearing a bright orange, close fitting halter neck bikini with a thong bottom - designed that way on this occasion. Sue wandered over to her and they chatted, playing with the girl and together they attempted to build more sand castles for a while before returning and stretching out in the shade under our parasol.

Shortly after she fell asleep, then Fiona's husband took their daughter back to the hotel pool, where a kiddies play club held regular gatherings. Fiona nonchalantly removed the bikini top and relaxed alone in the sun.

Just as I started to cast my eyes around to the daily beach parade, Fiona stood and with her usual grace fastened her purse to the side of her thong and walked topless across the sand. Her brown shoulders without any tan-lines showed off her trim waist and flawless firm bottom as she stepped into the sea. Again, her almost bare ass rose in the air as she slid beneath the waves and then she swam away out of sight.

Her bikini top was left abandoned with her towel on the beach.

I sat transfixed for a few minutes as Sue snoozed.

I looked out to sea but there was no sign of Fiona and eventually I returned to my book. Then a while later she was back, wearing the bikini again and packing up to finish for the day.

* * *

The next day there was a similar pattern. We exchanged pleasantries on the beach, played a game of catch-ball with the daughter who was then back to the hotel by the husband. Fiona then swam topless again across the bay.

After a couple of minutes just before Fiona disappeared from sight, I gave Sue a nudge and told her that I was going for a dip. Sue muttered acknowledgement and settled down again to snooze. I walked across the hot sand, burning my feet until I felt the welcome coolness of the sea water. The shock steadied me for a minute before I braced myself to wet my shoulders and started swimming out to deep water. I like being alone in the sea and eventually I could see somewhat around the point where the cliff met the beach. All I could make out however was a line of endless rocks with no-one visible.

I carried on, slowly swimming until I was out of sight of the beach. The rocks at the water's edge did not seem very hospitable for there was little beyond them except the hill with a thin thorny scrub not even good enough for goats to survive on. However I persevered and then glimpsed a concealed gap allowing access to the land. Passing through, I found some flat rocks concealed from the world, where I found Fiona sitting alone.

She was oiling herself on the legs with sun cream which she had apparently carried in her purse which now lay open beside her. I now realised its function - she had little use for money or keys after all. She glanced towards me and beckoned me across. "Hi, could you help me with this?"

She was completely unfazed at seeing me approach but I was caught fair and square stalking her without any excuses and nowhere to run, so helplessly I climbed out of the water.

I was expecting accusations of voyeurism, but she bent forwards for me to spread the cream across her back, her breasts hanging down freely. I complied and gently touched the golden skin, drying rapidly after her swim. She didn't appear too impressed at my tentative attempt and pressed back firmly against my hands, making me spread it across her skin. Just as I finished the task however she rose to her feet and swiftly removed her bikini bottom.

Stunned, I watched as she squeezed the water out of the colourful scrap of material which she then hung over a rock in the sun. Sitting, she smiled "That's the best thing about this place; you can get rid of those tan-lines". I could see that her pussy was clean shaved except for a thin line of short hair showing the hood of her clitoris protruding slightly - her tiny thong didn't allow much room for pubes anyway I thought. She lay back and relaxed, her hands behind her head, body on plain view.

She continued "Come on, take yours off, enjoy the sun. Don't sit there gawking - there's no-one to see here".

Well, nothing ventured and all that, Sue was not going to come and see me for sure but I now had a serious issue in that I had developed a raging hard-on. Fiona looked down at my tented swim shorts and laughed. "You're not shy are you? Get rid of them, feel the sun." so I shrugged, got up and quickly removed them.

Now I don't shave 'down below' for a porn-star look, but one thing that does annoy me is getting pubes caught in my trouser zip, so as a result I do trim quite short. Sort of a designer stubble.

Fiona turned onto her front and asked me to oil her splendid bum. Being totally unable to decline such a request I found myself spreading sun cream over those round buttocks that I had admired from afar so recently. This did not assist in the hard-on department and shortly I was so stiff it was starting to ache.

She then turned again to lay on her back with her thighs slightly apart, her eyes shut. As I let my gaze drop to those lips, I saw them relax partially open and then clench shut before opening again. Bloody hell, did it just wink at me?

I stared to see if it was an illusion or if there would be a repeat performance. I then noticed her belly shaking, looked up and saw that her eyes were slightly open and she was giggling. "Did you like that? My little party trick." She raised herself onto her elbows and laughed out loud, tears trickling down her cheeks. She then managed to speak; "Come, let me put some cream on your back."

I stammered something about having an all-day waterproof protection. In truth I don't know how I would have coped with being oiled up by a naked woman with those brown-nosed tits jiggling at me.

I laid on my back in the sun, on the hard but mercifully smooth rock.

As I lay flat and felt the sun and warm breeze reach the bits that they don't usually, I suddenly felt a nudge on my cock. Although I had shut my eyes and concentrated on making the erection disappear, I had singularly failed to achieve even a slight reduction in pressure. I opened my eyes with a jump and saw that Fiona was pushing it sideways with her foot. "That needs some work on it" she murmured.

Work on it? That was the last thing it needed. I found that it was actually starting to subside and had gained a slight lean to the left. Suddenly it was twitching back to vertical again and I was tensed rigid.

I closed my eyes and tried will-power. No good, it was as stiff as ever. Then I felt the weirdest thing. There was a rubbing movement in the region. I opened my eyes and saw that Fiona had shifted position. She was sitting in front of me and was using the soles of both feet to hold my cock and work it up and down. A foot-job was not quite what I signed up for today when I went for that swim. Even more, because of the position she was in, I was now looking straight between her open thighs at those crinkly lips.

"Lie back and relax" She instructed. It was going to be difficult but I wasn't in a position to argue and I lay back on the rock surface. So there I was, looking at the bright blue sky with the sun glaring down, feeling those warm feet working me. I was stressed out earlier but yes I thought, this could be really relaxing. Well it would have been but I could feel something soft against my right great toe. Looking down, I found that she had shifted and was sitting so that my right leg was between her thighs and my toe was against her pussy. She now had her eyes closed as her legs rocked gently and her clitoris pressed rhythmically against my toe.