Some time ago I had to travel down to Cape Town for business. As it was on a Friday, I decided to book my flight back for the Sunday afternoon rather than the same day so that I could spend the weekend down there. I have a small place in one of the little coastal holiday towns to the east of Cape Town, and my plan was to spend the weekend there to get some peace and quiet.
While I was sitting in the lounge at Durban airport, I suddenly heard someone calling my name. I looked up and saw it was a colleague who, as it turned out, also had an appointment in Cape Town. We ended up sitting next to each other in the aeroplane, talking about work-related things for most of the two-hour flight.
When we landed in Cape Town, we both headed for the rental car desk. Since our appointments were in close proximity and likely to be of more or less the same duration, we cancelled the one vehicle to save cost. I would drop her off at her destination and pick her up again later.
A few hours later, I'd picked her up after her engagement and we were headed back to the airport. I told her that I was not going to park the car, but just drop her off as I was heading further east to my holiday home. She was immediately very interested, asking lots of questions about the town and my place. Before I knew what was happening, she had invited herself along, and was already on her cell phone to the travel agent, changing her booking to the same flight as mine. I was not exactly over the moon with the idea. Although she was quite a pretty little thing, and I would be less than honest if I said that I've only had noble thoughts about her tight little body, we had never been anything more than colleagues. She was my subordinate by two levels, making any relationship not strictly professional undesirable. I had been looking forward to a weekend by myself to recharge my batteries, and now I had gained an unexpected and undesired companion. However, she was in such infectious high spirits that it was impossible to remain depressed.
We arrived at the house and before sundown, went for a quick stroll along the rocky part of the beach after opening all the windows and removing the dust covers from the furniture. We had an uneventful dinner at a small restaurant, talking mostly about work and the industry, as is almost unavoidable whenever two colleagues get together. After walking home, we retired to bed, with me taking the main bedroom and she one of the others.
The next morning I was up very early, planning to have a quick breakfast and then a solitary walk along the long sandy beach. I love walking in the mornings with the beach all to myself, alone with my thoughts and was therefore a little disappointed when she got up shortly after me, clearly intent upon tagging along. At least she was ready in a jiffy, not taking forever like most women.
We started out from the swimming beach, but soon left the early morning bathers behind us. The rising sun was right ahead of us, struggling to break through the slight bank of fog that had blown in from the sea during the night, hovering like a luminous, crimson balloon over the horizon. The morning chill was still in the air, but because there was no wind, it wasn't cold. The damp sand was ice cold and very loose, causing our feet to go numb and sink to the ankles with every step, so we walked mostly in silence as it was hard going and we were breathing hard.
"This loose sand is killing my calf muscles. Do you really have to set such a murderous pace?" she started complaining.
Just what I needed! Who invited her along in the first place? "The sand is always this loose at high tide, but it has great benefits."
"And what are those supposed to be? I just find it a royal pain in the calf muscle!"
I told her that it was normal for this beach to be that loose at high tide, but that it had the benefit of giving one a very good workout, as well as almost guaranteed solitude. In fact, I said, if one were so inclined, one could easily go naked, because you can see for miles in either direction, with the sea on one side and dunes with very dense vegetation on the other, with more than enough time to get dressed if anybody approached. I immediately regretted saying this, as I realized that I had taken the conversation into a direction that would be difficult to reverse.
I was right. She was immediately very interested, and wanted to know whether I had ever done it. I realized that I got myself into this fix, and there was no turning back. I had walked along this beach in my birthday suit hundreds of times before, and I had no choice but to tell her so.
For a while we walked in silence, but I just knew that lots of wheels were turning in her head. She was an energetic one, and always up to a challenge. I would have been very surprised if she were to drop the topic.
Suddenly she said, "Let's do it!" I tried to act stupid and pretend that I did not know what she was referring to, but she was like a bulldog and wouldn't let go. I tried to convince her that due to our professional relationship it would be a bad idea, but to no avail. She'd made up her mind, and wasn't going to be distracted. She quickly turned the whole thing into a kind of dare, and my male ego inevitably got the better of my judgment.
It had been my habit when walking on the beach in the nude, to hide most of my clothes under a bush, carrying only a pair of shorts in my hand so that I could cover up if anybody approached too closely. I therefore proceeded to the dunes, and shoved our sandals, which I'd been carrying until then, under the nearest bush. "OK," I said. "Last one naked is a rotten egg!" still clinging to the vague hope that she would chicken out at the last minute. She did not frantically start to undress to be the first one naked, but she did immediately start unbuttoning her blouse. There was only one thing to do, so I quickly pulled my shirt over my head, and pulled my rods and underwear off in one smooth movement.
By then, she had only just removed her blouse, and I had nothing to do but stand and watch as her tight young body slowly appeared from the confines of her clothes, emerging into the morning sunlight. She unhooked her bra, and leaned slightly forward as she freed her medium-sized breasts from the cups. I did not get a good opportunity to appreciate what they looked like, as she remained in a bent forward position to remove first her skirt and then a brief pair of white panties with pink flowers on them before she stood up and looked straight at me for the first time.
Her body was a beautiful golden brown, except for the two white areas where her bikini has obviously always hidden the skin from the sun. Her pure white breasts were perfectly shaped, and sagged only enough to show that they were real, her nipples pointing slightly upwards in that rare 'stargazers' fashion. They were dark brown and stood in stark contrast to the pearl white skin of her breasts. Either the excitement of being naked or the coolness of the ocean breeze made them stand proud, fully erect at an improbable 20mm long, and unusually thick as well, casting shadows over her skin in the oblique morning light.