Chapter 3.
We had dinner inn the hotel restaurant. There were supposed to be a few good restaurants not too far away, but we were leaving those for later in the week.
The service and food were fantastic. It was a lovely room with open doors on two sides so that we could look out over the bay watching the sun set; fabulous. We drank a bottle of white Cretan Chardonnay and a half bottle of Greek Merlot. We left the restaurant holding hands feeling at ease with the world, very affectionate to each other and just ever so slightly pissed for we had both had two G & Ts before dinner. In the bar, we both had Greek brandy and chatted to a few couples.
The mix of nationalities was high. The several German couples were easy to pick out, as were the French and Italian pairs. Naturally, we could tell the British and made guesses on a group of six who we thought were Dutch. There were several other couples in the bar, or whom we had seen in the restaurant, whose nationalities were harder to work out, although they had the more guttural tones of Northern Europeans.
We sat with, chatted to and, as the evening ended, exchanged introductions with several couples. There was Paul and Inga, from Munich, a typical German, slightly overweight, hearty and fun-loving older couple in their fifties, I guessed. Ruten and Alex, from The Hague, a gorgeous looking couple in the late twenties. Lex and Maria also from Holland, both of whom were tall and slim. Then there was Sten and Angetta (pronounced Anyetta) who we had been puzzled about, for we couldn't place their accent. They were from Finland and had that wonderful Nordic blondness.
Sitting around chatting was a slightly humbling experience for they could all speak as good as perfect English and Kevin and I only had the most rudimentary grasps of German and French. It was also a glamorous experience for all the women were showing the amounts of bare skin that only holidays seems to make acceptable. Short, flimsy, floating skirts that slid up legs or parted and revealed upper thighs, low cut tops dangling away from the bodies as they reached for their drinks, showing ample amounts of bare breasts and the outline of nipples through the thin material. The men were all just wearing trousers and shirts and looked wonderful. It was really was a place for 'beautiful people.'
Chapter 4
I was on the bed, naked, laying on my front. My legs were open, my head was buried in the pillow, and my long, unkempt, chestnut hair was tumbling down my back, across my shoulders and onto the pillow. Kevin was lying between my opened legs, he was also naked. His hands were on the cheeks of my bum, pulling them apart. He licked my thighs; he kissed each cheek and ran his tongue down into that crevice of such musky interest between them.
I knew what he was going to do. I wanted him to do that, I loved him doing it. Yes, my husband was going to lick my arse. Mmmmmmm.
He was pulling on my hips. I felt his fingers digging into the flesh and swore under my breath that I hadn't started my holiday diet earlier, for there was clearly some 'love handles' there.
He was urging me upwards. I went with the pressure. Further and further until I was kneeling. My head was still on the pillow, my legs were still open, but even wider. His tongue was slithering up and down the slit in my bum, wetting it, making it tingle and going ever nearer and nearer to the epicentre of that 'forbidden at one time' erotic delight.
I was gripping the sheet, half in anticipation of pleasure to come and half in thanks for what I was already receiving. Then, his tongue found my anus; it found that puckered, darker band of skin that surrounds it. That felt good. I grunted. I wiggled my bum a little. God I so wanted his tongue right there.
And that is so odd in some ways. I have the most sensitive of bums. He only has to pat me on the cheek or rub me there and I feel excited. When he strokes my bare flesh, I start to feel tingles and when he runs his fingers along the crease, they turn into shudders. Then, when Kevin gets his tongue right onto that hole, I usually feel the stirrings of an orgasm and when he slips the tip into me, I cum. However, I have a terrible fear of things being put up there; vibrators, fingers and cocks alike. So poor Kevin, who really has a big thing for anal shagging, as do many men I believe, misses out. He has had my bum a couple of times and would, I know, like it more often, but I just find it so difficult.
Those familiar feelings were welling up in me as he got the tip of his tongue just inside it. By doing that, he was slightly opening it and sort of licking just inside the rim of my bum, and that is the really sensitive place on a woman, after all we don't have prostates do we?
That made me cum. It made me cum as much as I do when Kevin fucks me or licks my pussy. And by that, I mean heavily.
Chapter 5.
Over the next few days, a pattern emerged, as they often do on holidays. Kevin and I would wake around nine, shower, sometimes together ending in a shag, but others alone when were sated from the night before. A leisurely breakfast and then to our bungalow for some sun, in the nude of course, we had both become tuned into that. Generally, we avoided any sex.
We would go down to the hotel's beach restaurant for lunch where we would meet the other 'glamorous people' we had got to know that first night. In swimwear, they looked even more alluring and sexy, but perhaps not more glamorous than in their evening 'glad rags'. The girls, in the main, wore skimpy bikinis with a couple wearing thongs. They, actually that should be we, were showing most of our breasts, even sitting around chatting having a drink. A couple of the guys, particularly Paul, wore tiny swimming trunks, showing off a bulge that, relatively, was as large as large as his wife, Inga's, awesome breasts.
By the fourth or fifth day, all of the girls were relaxed enough in the group to sunbathe topless. If that in any way disturbed or excited the guys, they didn't show it, although I was keenly aware that Kevin's eyes were continually wandering, particularly at Inga's huge breasts and at Alex's twenty-something perky tits; she really was gorgeous, but in their ways so was the rest of 'our group.'
We tended to eat dinner just with our partners, although we had agreed to all go out one night to a nearby taverna, just down the coast. After dinner, most of us would meet in the bar for coffee and brandy. All highly civilised. They were nice, sophisticated, well-educated people, just the sort it's a pleasure to meet on holiday. Although we had some things in common, the amount of wealth I guess being the most significant, the hotel was horrendously expensive, there was quite a spread of ages from Alex's twenty two to Paul's fifty two. That didn't stop all of us getting on well, with us becoming closest to Sten and Angetta. They were about our age, also had one child and owned their own business. Like us they had a flat in the city, their's being in Helsinki, ours in the Docklands area of London. We didn't have a country place, but did have a large sprawling house in the suburbs of London, the flat being more of a bolthole for when we had late appointments in town. Both Sten and Angetta and us had a live in au pair.
Kevin has blonde, well had then, it's grey now, fairly long hair, as did Sten, but his was shorter. They were both about the same height and body shape although, clearly, Sten's was in much better shape; he didn't smoke as Kevin did then, he worked out and drunk sparingly, vodka or white wine mainly, just like me, while Kevin did nothing to keep fit and drank like a fish. Both had a quick mind and a strong sense of humour.
To my mind, the most appropriate word to describe Angetta was statuesque. However, if one used that, it would probably be followed, by cool, sophisticated and drop dead sexy, but not necessarily in that order. She had shoulder-length, golden blonde hair that she usually wore half up and half down, with ringlets tumbling onto her slim, nicely tanned shoulders. Her face was probably slightly too austere to be considered classically beautiful, but she was certainly stunning, hellishly attractive and beguiling, I suppose. Her nose was quite pointed and a little on the large size, more like Princess Di than Sofia Lauren and her lips were a little too thin to give her that look of true beauty. Her mouth, though, was quite large, so what her looks lost in fullness of lips they more than made up for with the sexiness of her mouth. I could imagine that some of the guys, particularly Kevin, would at least fleetingly have fantasised about them being clamped firmly round their dick. It was her eyes that were her greatest appeal and made her looks so unforgettable. Sitting neatly on top of her high, angular and very prominent cheekbones were two huge pools of sheer, pale blue, horniness. I am sure that everyone, male or female, who met her gaze, would feel something; I certainly did.
Her body was also good. She was taller than I was, so was probably about five feet eight or nine, and much slimmer; I guessed around 135 to my 148 pounds. There was little spare flesh on her, but her bum did have a generous covering, which gave her one of the sexiest wiggles and walks you could imagine. It was quite something to watch people's, men's and women's heads as she walked past them her bottom slowly, but so clearly undulating from side to side. She was quite some contrast to me. My long, unruly no matter what I did to it, chestnut hair was in stark contrast to Ang's blondeness, my rounded, almost Rubenesque as Kevin called it at times, body was quite the opposite to her statuesque slenderness and my boobs, well! Her breasts, were pert and much fuller when seen in a bikini than they appeared to be in a dress and she had long nipples that looked as they were permanently hard, perhaps they were? But mine, I felt rather ridiculously smugly, would have engulfed them: mmmm quite a nice thought.
Chapter 6
I felt pleasantly half-cut. That degree of drunkenness when you are aware of everything that's going on, but don't have a care in the world. The level where inhibitions have not just been reduced, but thrown out the window. With me, it was also the level where I didn't give a damn and where I liked to be in control, sexually that is.
That was rare for me. I am naturally a compliant woman when it comes to sex, I go with the flow and generally let the guy get on with leading me to the inevitable conclusion, hopefully a bloody great orgasm, or two, or three or, or!!!! I suppose with the right sort of man I would be a natural submissive, but handcuffs, whips, gags, blindfolds and the like would just make me giggle, I think. Still don't knock it unless you've tried it, I always say.
We'd had a good evening with 'our group.' Everyone looked especially glamorous and sexy and there was an ease about the way we now related to each other. But then, as we had all seen all of the girls' bare tits that wasn't that surprising. I really do feel that continentals, especially northern Europeans have a much more grown-up way of relating to sex.
After dinner, we had all met in the bar for the normal brandies and coffee. It was interesting that now we had got to know each other and relaxed how the larger group broke down into smaller ones and how different couplings were formed. I seemed to spend more time with Lex, one of the Dutch guys about my age while Kevin, not unexpectedly seemed to make a beeline for Alex, the busty yet slim twenty-something from the Hague: he always likes them young I smiled.
