Jane rolled over on to her side and sighed restlessly. God it was hot! Even at two in the morning it was almost stifling in her hotel room. She had been trying to sleep since just after 11pm and hadn't yet managed a wink. With this the last night of her vacation and the prospect of a long, tedious flight back to London tomorrow afternoon -- no, this afternoon, she suddenly realised -- she desperately needed sleep.
Of course, it didn't help she was almost terminally horny too. She had treated herself to a couple of weeks on Mykonos as a reward for having finally broken up with that prick Jason. Booked at the last minute and without any real planning or preparation, she had spent much of the flight over drinking gin and tonic and fantasising about the wild, rampant and uninhibited vacation sex she was going to indulge in. Sand, sea, sun and an ocean of cock had been the plan. Sadly, it hadn't quite worked out that way.
She sat up in bed and hugged her knees. The real problem was she had grown up, she decided. Mykonos reeked of sex, but it was all a bit teenage and juvenile, she had quickly found out. Pushing 30 and with a string of fun but ultimately unproductive relationships behind her, she had discovered, somewhat to her chagrin, that she needed a bit more engagement than a just pretty face and a lame pickup line before deciding to entertain a new cock. She grinned wryly. "I'll be the old maid my school friends taunted me with yet," she thought.
Reaching a sudden decision, she got out of bed and struggled into one of the thin t-shirts she had bought at the market yesterday. Opening the door to her hotel room -- well, suite, really: there was a large living room and a poorly equipped kitchen as well as a bedroom with the biggest damn king-size bed she had ever seen -- she stepped out in to the corridor and made her way to the large communal terrace that served the ground floor of the tiny but quite luxurious hotel she had ended up in. She walked up to the railing and gazed down the hill towards the town, revelling in the tiniest of cool breezes that ruffled her hair and caused her always sensitive nipples to strain at the fabric of her t-shirt.
There were still a few late-night revellers staggering through the streets below on their way back from the bars, pubs and clubs that populated every street corner in town. She watched a couple of young lads arguing incoherently about which way to turn and watched an even younger couple necking vigorously up against the wall of the butcher's shop. She stretched languorously and grinned on behalf of the couple: to be young, footloose and fancy free in Mykonos, with the prospect of a whole night of shagging followed by lie-in morning sex too. Bliss.
She turned round to head back to her room and see if she could get to sleep without the image of all the sex she hadn't had whilst on holiday preventing her from doing so. As she did so, her eye was automatically drawn to a light being turned on in the suite opposite hers. Drawn mostly due to the fact that, like most rooms in Mykonos, the window was open and the little breeze there was had parted the curtains slightly, allowing the light to spill out across the terrace. She had seen the previous occupants of the suite -- a couple in their 50s having a second honeymoon -- check out that afternoon. She wondered who had moved in.
As she neared the window, prepared to shift to her left and appear to be making for her room if anyone should see her, a figure came into sight. The suite was the mirror image of her own and she was looking into the living room area, with one sofa backed up against the window and another facing it on the opposite wall. As the figure revealed itself around the edge of the curtain she saw it was a young man -- probably early twenties, she thought to herself -- just standing up from the sofa opposite the window. She immediately identified several things. He was fit -- very fit -- a fact made more obvious by the fact he was bare-chested. Bronzed, superbly buffed with a visible six pack, he was tall, with blond hair that had obviously been very carefully groomed and moussed, since it was spiky in the way she found indescribably attractive atop the right frame. And boy, she said to herself, was this the right frame!
She also identified he was distracted and smiling. He was obviously looking across the room and was totally absorbed by whatever he saw there. And, she suddenly realised, whatever it was he could see was turning him on. She inhaled involuntarily as she realised his tight and very brief bright yellow shorts revealed the outline of an erection. A very impressive erection.
"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," she thought to herself, quietly turned on at the sight of this young, tanned, buff Adonis just a few feet away from her. All of a sudden her thought process accelerated and focused somewhat. The Adonis in question, his eyes still fixed on something on her side of the room but which she couldn't identify, stuck one hand down his shorts and started gently stroking himself.
"He must be watching the porn channel," she thought to herself. Five days into her holiday and with nary a sniff of an acceptable cock to play with, she had had an early night in front of the hotel porn herself. It was fairly typical of its genre, however -- either frankly distasteful German or Italian rubbish or a succession of pornstars with unrealistically large chemically enhanced boobs bouncing up and down on monosyllabic male 'talent.' Wishing that there were more female porn directors -- or at least a few more directors of any sex who realised what it was that women want ("after all we are 50% of the fucking planet," she had sworn at the big screen TV fixed to the wall opposite the bed) and had resorted to an evening's communion with her trusty rabbit.
Watching this unexpected but very welcome piece of eye candy rubbing one out for himself, Jane decided what was sauce for the gander was something the goose had every bloody right to. Her hand strayed beneath the hem of her t-shirt and within a very few seconds two fingers had pulled aside the gossamer thin pale blue panties she had been sleeping in and were stroking the lips of her pussy -- which she could already feel moistening, a function of heady visual stimulation after no nookie for over two months since the Jason debacle.
Standing on the terrace frigging herself wasn't terribly comfortable, despite the fact she was surprisingly turned on. She tried squatting but, discovering that took her sightline too far down and she lost sight of the subject of her rapidly building fantasy, she stood up again. And a good job it was that she did, for no sooner had she straightened up when a striking development took place.
In a movement that was so quick she would have missed it if she blinked, this gorgeous young man hooked his fingers into both sides of his shorts and, bending down, drew them swiftly down to the floor. As he straightened up, Jane's breath almost stopped.
"Now THAT is a cock!" she breathed to herself. With a slight upward tilt to it and visibly straining with a tiny nod at every heartbeat, this was an impressive member indeed. "Fuck!" she thought, "that has to be nearly a foot long!" This was truly a cock to fantasise over, and Jane's eyes closed -- only for a second though, in case she missed anything -- and her fingers progressed from a gentle stroking of her lips to an almost frantic in and out motion as she inserted them into her suddenly VERY wet pussy. As she opened her eyes she thanked the God she didn't really believe in as the object of her swiftly building desire looked down and grasped his tool with one hand. As he started gently wanking his cock, Jane moaned -- very softly -- she was conscious of the fact she was stood on a hotel terrace with her hand in her pants -- and took an involuntary step closer to the window.
