My wife decides we should take full advantage of our summer holiday and expand our horizons.
This story includes elements of group sex, swapping, a bit of a loving wife (and a loving husband), what some people might regard as incest, a tad of exhibitionism, stranger sex, metric measurements, and British English punctuation. If any of those things are likely to upset you, please read no further. Incidentally, to avoid any confusion, it may be worth pointing out that the 'holiday' referred to in the title would be called a vacation in American.
Once upon a time I was really quite in love with my job but that was before it became an endless round of trying to meet almost impossible targets under the looming threat that lots of dynamic, ambitious young underlings would be more than happy to step into my shoes should I falter. The one thing that makes it bearable is that the company I work for owns a number of villas in Greece which the directors and other senior staff can use free of charge. On top of that, our boss, for all his other faults, takes the idea of holidays very seriously; he insists that we take our full five weeks annual holiday entitlement.
My wife, Ali, and I usually book one of the villas for a fortnight at the beginning of July. Being middle-aged and childless, it seems only fair to leave the school holiday dates for those with children. In any case, that suits us – the weather in July is just as good and Greece tends to be less crowded then.
A lot of my colleagues take the opportunity to invite friends and family to holiday with them. Not us, though. Maybe we're anti-social but we like to have the villa all to ourselves – not least because we enjoy being nude while we're away and having lots of uninhibited sex. Our favourite among the company's villas is one which is very secluded and has its own private pool, so we can get up to anything we feel like there.
The beach, of course, is a bit more limited. Like all beaches in Greece, it's open to the public and there's a public path running down to it round the edge of the villa's ground. Fortunately, as you can only reach the villa along a rough, unsigned track, we very rarely get disturbed there. In any case, the few people who do manage to find their way to the beach are usually looking for somewhere that's unfrequented enough to sunbathe and swim in the nude anyway, so that's not a problem. Likewise with the occasional yachts that anchor in the bay.
You can imagine then how I felt when, a few weeks before our holiday, Ali asked if her 19 year-old niece Katie could join us. That's 'ask' as Ali usually does when she's already decided something and made all the arrangements. 'Ask' as in 'Darling, you don't mind if...'
Now I have nothing against Katie – she's a pleasant enough girl even if, as an only child, she's been a bit spoiled – but three's a crowd and it meant waving goodbye to our usual freedom. Mind you, as I discovered later, it could have been much worse; it was very nearly the whole family – Katie, her mum Caroline (Ali's sister) and her dad John. Ali invited them all. John had been made redundant and was having problems finding another job. They were a bit hard up, especially with Katie being at university, so Ali thought that offering them a cheap holiday would be a kind, sisterly thing to do.
Fortunately, John's the kind of guy who regards that sort of invitation as unwelcome charity and he turned the idea down flat, for which I was mightily grateful. It wasn't that I was being overly selfish but there was a strong possibility that I might be changing jobs and I'd hoped that Ali and I could make the most of what might turn out to be our final idyllic holiday.
However, after a rough first year at university, Katie did not share her father's qualms. As it turned out though, she could only join us for the middle of our two weeks, which worked out rather well.
We were bound to be restricted in our activities once Katie arrived and we guessed that we'd also spend a fair bit of time sightseeing with her. With those things in mind, we made the most of the four days before Katie arrived and didn't venture out a lot – except on one notable occasion.
We'd spent an afternoon in the local town and ended the day with a meal in one of our favourite tavernas in the neighbouring village. Now, I should explain that going topless isn't a problem on most Greek beaches – indeed, in some places a bikini top is as rare as a dodo – but more discreet clothing is called for elsewhere. But there is discreet and discreet.
Ali has a wonderful pair of breasts: just large enough to make a good handful and tipped with hard, prominent nipples. They're perfect for going braless – firm enough not to sag but soft enough to sway a bit as she moves,. I can't tell you how much that gentle movement beneath a blouse or T-shirt excites me. For our day out she'd worn a bright summery dress that was decently opaque but if you looked closely it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra beneath it. At least, it was to me.
The effect was increased when we sat down to our evening meal. We were sitting side by side and Ali opened the top two buttons in the front of her dress so that, from my viewpoint, half of one of her breasts was exposed. Then, just in case that wasn't doing enough for me, she reached over to me with her hand and deposited her panties in my lap.
I knew full well what Ali was up to. At the villa we would have fucked three or four times during the day but on that day we'd missed out and Ali was determined to get me furiously worked up for when we got back to the villa.
It was just as well that we were sitting side by side behind the table, which helped to mask what Ali was doing. No-one was able to see when she raised the hem of her dress and slipped her hand between her legs. She worked it into her slit for a few moments so that, when she withdrew it, her fingers glistened with her wetness.
When we're eating out, we often order different starters and share them with each other and that was exactly what Ali did then – only she used the hand that had just been between her legs to take a piece of food from her plate and offer it to my mouth. Her fingers lingered long enough for me to taste her wetness and to lick it off.
Both of us noticed that a woman on a table opposite – she was in a party of three couples – was staring intently in our direction, as if she'd realised what was going on. Ali gave her a broad smile. A short while later, the woman got up from her table and went towards the rear of the dining area, clearly in search of the toilet. A moment or two afterwards, Ali followed her. When she returned, she opened her bag and showed me a pair of panties – and it was obvious who they belonged to.
'Ali! What on earth are you doing?'
