I'd spent the last fortnight secretly (at least I hoped it was a secret) lusting after Sarah. Actually, who am I kidding. I'd spent about 15 years lusting after.
The fact that I was lusting was completely understandable. Sarah was drop dead gorgeous, in a sultry, almost knowing, way. Flawless dark skin (especially after 14 days baking in the Mediterranean sunshine); piercing, hazel eyes; curvy, but not fat, just on the right side of womanly.
To me (and many others in our resort it seemed), her best feature being her huge, though still only gently hanging, tits. Topped, as they were with dark, large, very prominent, nipples, encased in equally large areola.
As explicable as this lusting (or leering, or perving, or admiring -- call it what you will) was, it was also inappropriate. And almost certainly stupid. Sarah was married to by best mate, James. We'd met at University and James and Sarah had starting dating just after we left Uni, as he began his first job. Sarah had also become one of my wife's closest friends. Her kids and my kids were best buddies. And we all loved the time we spent together as two families.
Until this holiday, I'd only ever imagined her tits. And boy, I'd spent a lot of time imagining them. But, on this holiday (probably the third or fourth we'd spent together as two families) she'd sunbathed topless. Not by the pool, but when we went down to the beach.
Though I lusted after Sarah, I wasn't hard done by in my own marriage. My wife, Julie, was gorgeous too. But in a different way. Petite, blonde, with a toned, athletic figure. Small, but perky, tits, with tiny, but very sensitive, pink nipples. With a tight arse that looked perfect in the fitted shorts she often wore. Julie was also extremely pretty, almost elfin like, in her looks.
When the two of them were together they attracted the attention of many, many, male eyes.
Julie was also great fun, warm, generous and a fantastic Mother. And I was certainly not hard done by sexually. We made love regularly and enthusiastically. Though, if I had a complaint (not that I was ever daft enough to voice it) it was all very vanilla. On this holiday, probably more than ever, when I was having sex with Julie my mind would wander to the vision of Sarah by the pool and on the beach. With fantasies of the wild abandon with which we'd be fucking.
Given how lucky I was matrimonially, as you read my story below you may think that my behaviour was the act of a selfish narcissist. Intent only on my own pleasure. Guilty as charged I'm afraid!
We really had enjoyed a fantastic holiday. Perfect weather, a well-appointed hotel, good food, good wine (lots of it) and great company. As was always the case, the two families had got along famously and we'd had loads of fun together.
We'd been on a few trips. But spent most days alternating between one or more of the pools in the hotel, or in and out of the sea, on the long sandy beach at the edge of the resort.
At the far end of the beach, cliffs jutted out, separating the main beach from a "clothing optional" one. There was a path over the cliffs and no real view of this haven for naturists. It caused some merriment and embarrassed laughter from the kids.
"We should make our way over there." I suggested, more than half seriously, one day.
"Are you crazy?" spluttered Julie. "It will be full of wrinkly old lechers like you," she laughed.
James was of a similar view, "No way, our kids would hate it. And I'm not excited by the idea either."
"Don't be such prudes, let's give it a go," said Sarah, fueling my fantasies further. "We should experience a nude beach at least once in our lives."
But, with such strong opposition from Julie and James, nothing further was said about it.
The day before we were due to return home we started packing and doing the usual, "tickets, keys, passports" checking. I realised, with a jolt, that our passports weren't in our travel wallet. Then I remembered that, on checking in, we'd handed them over at reception, so they could make copies and register us for some form of tourist tax. Stupidly, we should have picked them back up later that day. But I'd forgotten.
Traipsing down to the front desk, I went to retrieve them. They handed them over. But mine was missing!
Cue major panic. When they checked, it transpired that Sarah's was missing too. Long story short, but, by accident, our passports (and we never did discover how or why, but it seemed it may have been because we were the lead names on the booking) had been sent off, buried in some other mail, to the hotel's head office.
After several panicky phone calls, we discovered, even if they were couriered to the airport, we would not be able to get them back until mid-morning the following day. Certainly, no good for our 8am flight, the only one of the day.
We kicked up a major fuss, but the only solution was for Sarah and I to remain for an extra day. The hotel arranged and paid for re-scheduled flights for us, gave us a room each in the hotel and the equivalent of £250 in compensation.
The next day we got up early, helped with the packing and bade our respective families goodbye.
Over a leisurely breakfast, I asked Sarah, "how do you want to spend our unexpected "bonus" day."
I had one overwhelming idea going through my mind. But thought better of suggesting a day of unbridled fucking.
"Let's make our way down to a quiet corner of the pool, and read and sunbathe, unshackled by our kids," she suggested. "Then take a trip to the beach a little later in the day? I've got a few white bits I still need to work on!" she smirked mischievously.
I got down to the pool a little before Sarah and set-up a couple of sun loungers for us. As I was finishing I looked up to see her walking from reception towards me. She had a wrap over her swimwear. But was still turning heads. She got to me, plonked down her towel and stripped off her kimono.
My jaw dropped. She'd worn some sexy bikinis throughout the holiday. But this one was something else. Pale yellow, accentuating her olive skin, cut very low on the bust and very high on the leg. She looked sensational. And I told her so.
"I thought you might like it," she said. "James thinks it's too revealing. But I thought you'd approve," she smiled.
"Especially as you, like me, were keen to wear even less on the clothing optional beach."
"Well," I laughed, chancing my arm, "It's a good second best to seeing you completely nude."
"You're a dirty sod," she grinned. "Don't think I haven't noticed you checking me out all holiday. But well done, as far as I can tell, for not letting it be too noticeable for James or Julie."
"I wasn't checking you out. I'm just an admirer of the female form. And your form is particularly admirable."
"Ooh, a smooth talking, dirty sod. But thank you for the compliment," she preened. "I do feel good when I'm wearing something like this."
She paused, before saying, "Talking of the naturist beach, I did wonder whether, without the kids and our less exhibitionist spouses, you might fancy a trip over there?"
"Bloody hell," I exclaimed. "Are you serious?"
"I am," she replied. "I've always really wanted to do it. And I may never get another chance. James is dead set against. And I can't see me being able to change his mind. But you seemed up for it."
My heart was pounding. And my dick was twitching in my board shorts.
"Ok," I said, guardedly. "I am up for it. I really am. But I'm worried what would happen if Julie or James discovered we'd gone behind their backs. In fact, I'm not worried, I'm terrified!"
"Of course," agreed Sarah. "This would have to be our secret. If we go, we can't tell a soul. But no-one, least of all James and Julie, need ever find out. Let's just go for an hour to experience it."
"Right," I said, thinking, as usual, as much with my dick as with my brain. "No time like the present. Let's go before I lose my nerve, and/or come to my senses."
"Yayyy," exclaimed Sarah hoarsely. "Thank you so so much, you won't regret it."
And she threw her arms around me and gave me a huge hug and a big kiss. Pressing those tits - and, if I wasn't imagining it, her groin - against me.
Gathering up our towels and water bottles we exited the hotel and made our way along the beach. As we got closer to the cliffs our bravado was wearing off and we were laughing a little nervously.
Realising, I guess, what we were about to do, i.e. strip off in public for the first time. And, certainly, from my perspective, just a little concerned about the trust I was betraying
We clambered over the cliff path and reached the hot sands on the other side. It was a smaller beach, but really picturesque.
Dropping our bags, we looked at each other. I took the initiative.
"Right, lets go. Kit off."
And I dropped my trunks around my ankles and stepped out, for the first time as an adult, nude in public.
Sexuality aside, it really was a liberating experience. I was really glad we'd done this. Though my heart was beating like a drum. Even more so when Sarah followed my lead and shucked off her bikini.
As she stood before, hand on hips she asked, provocatively, "What do you think?"
"Stunning," I stammered, almost dumbstruck, "Even better than with the bikini on."
And she really was. Her tits I now knew about. But it was the first time, of course, I'd seen her pussy.
As I'd imagined, it was clean shaven, with a really appealing "gap" between her legs. And it also seemed, from what I could see at this stage, that her pussy lips were prominent.
I drank in the vision in front of me. And she did the same to me, looking me up and down, whilst giving an approving nod.
Before, once again, throwing her arms around me and enveloping me in a huge hug. This time, of course, with absolutely nothing separating us.
"Thank you so so much for agreeing to this," she gushed, "I really think we are both going to enjoy this so much. We'll remember this day forever."
How right she was.
The beach was less crowded than the main, non-naturist, beaches we'd been visiting. So, we could have found a pretty secluded spot easily.
But Sarah seemed eager that we sat somewhere we could see, and be seen by, other naturists (as I guess we now were, even if only for a day). We lay down our towels and started to apply sun lotion.
I know it's a staple of erotic stories. But that's because the application of sun tan lotion is -- or certainly can be -- an erotic act. It's done to half naked (or in this instance entirely naked) bodies. And the texture and sometimes even smell is arousing.
