Foreword
These stories are based in Australia and written in the idiom the characters would use.
Some issues in language variations I anticipated and built translations into my narrative. Others have caught me by surprise especially in their intensity. Generally, the intended meaning will be clear from the context if you don't cling too tightly to your usual usage.
Crutch/ Crotch has been a subject of much comment. Australians more commonly use 'crutch' and that meaning of the word is supported by the Macquarie Dictionary.
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Story
On Tuesday mornings Greg had a later start to work. That meant there was at least time for our exercise programme to continue by way of a swim and a run before Greg had to go home and get ready for work; even leaving us time for some horizontal exercise as the mood took us (and so far it had never failed to). By now I was able to run at a good rate, so Greg was back to the training regime he'd had before I met him and slowed it down.
This morning a cool Southerly had blown up overnight. It wasn't all that strong or even that cold; but in the weak early morning sun it was enough to feel the wind chill factor start to get the better of you. As we'd come out of our swim and into our run I hadn't really noticed it as the exercise had kept me warm.
After the run, we followed our usual routine of diving in the water for a final cleansing dip before going up to our gear and drying off.
On this morning the tide was well out so a long walk up the beach gave me ample time to get a bit cold as my wet body was exposed to the wind. By the time I reached our gear, Greg was holding my towel up ready to dry me off - as was his usual way. As he did so he couldn't help but notice how much the cold had brought up my nipples.
Once my skin was dry, the wind wasn't really an issue for the rest of my body, but the nipples in the wet bikini top were still strongly showing its effect. Greg couldn't help playing with them a bit as he finished drying me; rolling them gently between his fingers and in the process sticking the material of the top firmly to them, making them even more prominent.
As we lay back on our towels to let a bit of sun warmth in and see what else developed between us, they continued to attract his attention. In part it might be called foreplay, in part it was just Greg being silly, either way with the head start the cold had given him, He was trying to show me just how big he could make my nipples by teasing them up with his fingers, tongue and lips.
Hang on there Greg. They're my nipples. I think I've got a fair idea of what they are like especially when the weather turns cold. Unfortunately they can get rather big.
At one stage my Uni friends were even referring to them as "Karen's famous nipples" because of how prominent they'd become on a cold day. In a way it's another manifestation of my bikini fetish. Somewhere between when puberty first struck and the present, female nipples were seemingly abolished. By that I mean any display of nipple outline under a garment became unfashionable; almos scandalous. I'm not sure when that moment was; although I suspect Janet Jackson and the fuss made about her so called clothing malfunction had a large measure to do with it. The trouble was that no-one told me. Or if they did I chose to ignore them.
When it came time to move from a training bra to an adult one I simply couldn't find the sort of light unstructured ones that I was used to. I tried but immediately hated those padded nipple stopper bras that seem to be all the rage these days; indeed I hate any sort of padding - the pads in any bikini I buy immediately get ripped out too. While I have a few push up bras for special occasions, for the most part I just go with a bikini top - unpadded of course and often in older ones with the lining cut out to boot - or bra less if I can get away with it.
