Earlier this year my husband and I visited Bali for an amorous seven days.
For this beach hotel and island tour, I had packed a suitcase containing only the bare essentials for the hot climate, mainly a couple of light summer dresses and my red and white bikini as well as a red revealingly wicked thong and miniscule top that Richard had bought and optimistically throw in.
Having lost a bit of weight in the gym over the winter, I was again a comfortable 38c and looked forward to getting a nice tan before returning home.
Getting ready for the beach, I pulled on my red bikini. I had worked hard over the past couple of months to maintain my well toned figure and on checking myself out in the mirror realized I was more than a cup size larger than before, so was conscious that most of my breasts were visible from certain angles, which stimulated me somewhat.
Throwing on a sheer white cover-up, we headed across the hotel grounds to discover a beautiful palm fringed beach where the waves crashed on to the sloping shoreline. Dotted along the shoreline, there were well-spaced lush cane loungers shaded by thatched umbrellas.
A beach attendant emerged from a large gazebo, sheltering a very primitive bar and massage area. He directed us to a spot some twenty-five metres in front of him, and swished his fibre broom over the cushions before inviting us to make ourselves comfortable. He introduced himself as Joseph then handed us a well-worn menu of drinks and snacks. Loving the feeling of the sun on our skin at last, we ordered a couple of cold beers, which he eventually brought over.
Not long after we had settled down, we watched a beach vendor wearing a white cotton robe trudging along the pitches and guessed it wouldn't be too long before he approached us. He flashed a well-rehearsed broad smile and greeted us in English (funny how they nearly always get it right).
As we live in a comparatively privileged society, we felt morally obliged to take an interest in his wares, so decided to buy a couple of decorative wristbands and had a bit of fun haggling over the price. As I let him rabbit on about this and that, I could make out his eyes behind his sunglasses taking in my pale-skinned breasts giving me a bit of a tinkle, nothing more. Eventually he moved on along the beach before trekking over to the gazebo and resting with the attendant where I assume he kept his stock.
We spent the next hour or so just soaking up the sun, trying to get an even tan so that we didn't look like two fresh tourists, and lazily watched the hawker, who didn't really pester us, pass along every half hour or so with a different line.
By now, the sun was getting quite low and so we decided to head back up to our hotel. Joseph waved us over, asking if we wanted to reserve the same spot for tomorrow, which we were happy too.
I happened to mention over dinner that I was sure the hawker was peeking at my breasts. Without a beat, Richard, knowing my penchant for revealing myself, suggested that if he was taking an interest I should indulge myself and perhaps take advantage of the situation, which lead to some stimulating pillow talk as we made love that night.
Day 2
The following day I decided to wear the same outfit, but wanting to give my husband a little titillation, slightly slackened the neck strap so my bra cups were now loose enough to make the edges of my areolas visible.
Anyway, eager to have a look around, we wandered along the peripheral path before paddling back along the shoreline. On our arrival, Joseph prepared our pitch, making a big deal out of shaking the cushions before handing us the beach menu.
We set out our little patch of paradise and liberally covered ourselves in sun cream before settling down, me with my book and Richard with his MP3 player. Just as I was immersing myself in my book, Richard reminded me about what I had promised during our lovemaking and said "Now's your chance!"
I looked up to see our hawker further along the sands heading in our direction. Before I had any opportunity to agree, Richard leaned over and deftly untied the neck strap of my already loose bikini so that only the back strap was holding it in place. The hawker greeted us like old friends, this time introducing himself and showing a photo of his family and soon had a tray of "genuine fake" watches and rings laid out on the bottom of my lounger for our appraisal.
Feeling a bit wicked and wanting to tease the guy a bit more, I casually leaned forward to view what he was offering, giving him ample opportunity to focus on my salacious exposure. As my eyes flicked up, I caught him full on, gawking at the swell of my breasts, further stirring the butterflies already awakened deep in my belly. More than just enjoying his lecherous attention and knowing it would be turning Richard on, I sat up completely, provocatively dropping my legs either side of the lounger so I could pull the tray closer to see the watches.
Dubious thoughts were now swimming through my head, but any misgiving that I had were soon overshadowed by my overwhelming desire to arouse Richard's emotions, and my tummy was doing summersaults at the thought that the hawker may even be stimulated as he took in my exposure.
Aware that Richard would be excited by my provocative behavior, I further hunched forward allowing the cups supporting my breasts to fall away and so make even my flushed nipples visible. Basking in my uninhibited behavior, and keen to keep him there a little longer, I continued to rummage though his stock. Trying this and admiring that, until I eventually picked a dressy wristwatch, leaving Richard to do the customary haggling over the price as I casually rolled on to my tummy to get some sun on my back.
Relishing the thrill we both got teasing the hawker, Richard teased me about our pillow talk the night before, and couldn't resist flicking the back strap of my bikini loose. Moments later Joseph came along and asked in well-practiced English phrases whether we wanted anything off the menu. We had seen him deliver some coconut cocktails earlier and so ordered two.
Maybe five minutes or so passed when Richard said, "here he comes. I dare you!" Already in a heightened state, I didn't really need to be dared to do anything and so waited until he was right next to us, then turned over with my arm barely covering my naked breasts to weigh him up and gauge his reaction. For a moment, I thought of allowing him a full view but in the heat of the moment decided not to. He headed back to his gazebo, and was joined by the hawker who seemed to be talking about us.
I lay back on my back feeling as horny as hell, reliving the daring episode, with my top now just draped loosely across my breasts. The hawker who trundled past every fifteen minutes or so, would always come close by and wave, probably just hoping for further glimpses of my carelessly covered boobs.
As we were packing up for the day and not wanting to miss another opportunity for more of our selfish foreplay, Richard beckoned him over on some pretext or other. My lust was now screaming out at me to show more, so I sat up, with my arm across my bikini top to hold it in position. Fumbling for my bag, I let part of my top fall, freeing my excitedly pink-tipped left breast completely for his admiration. Further excitement tumbled through my loins as his gaze settled firmly on my momentary exposure until I feigned embarrassment and regained my modesty.
After he moved away, we were so turned on it was all we could do to pack up our things and head back to our room.
On passing the gazebo the hawker had joined Joseph and asked how we had enjoyed our day and informed us that tomorrow he would bring along some new lines he thought I might like. Strangely then, being in their close proximity, made me tremble with excitement like a student on her first date.
Day 3
I lay in bed having missed breakfast, cuddled up next to Richard who had his usual morning boner and wanted me. As I caressed his erection, my mind was on the beach, and wanting to take my excitement to a higher level, I asked if he thought I could get away wearing my red Wicked Weasel. The way his prick jerked at the suggestion was all the approval I needed.
I enjoyed a long warm shower and not wanting any new growth showing at the sides of my mound, lathered up my pubic region before taking my Lady shave to delicately remove the light stubble. My shaved area was now as smooth as silk, apart from the closely trimmed landing strip.
It was the first time that I had worn it since Richard bought it for my birthday 9 months earlier and I had almost forgotten how tiny it was. The small top just about covering less than a quarter of my soft breasts and the tiny string triangle didn't leave much to the imagination either. Actually, it looked quite vulgar, especially when worn low to show a hint of my landing strip peeping provocatively over the top. But oh, it made me feel so fucking sexy!
To avoid causing any offence, I borrowed one of Richard's shirts for the walk through the hotel gallery and grounds. On our arrival, Joseph immediately greeted us before escorting us to our pitch. It was the first time I had really taken notice of him, his mature but lithe body did not truly show his age and I felt quite nervous as I peeled Richard's shirt off in front of him as he swished the cushions before rushing off to his gazebo.
Moments later without warning, Joseph appeared bringing us two coconut cocktails with his compliments. My heart thumped at this unexpected encounter so soon, but Joseph seemed to make no big deal about it other than to compliment me with an intuitive wink. Feeling quite sexy in my daring bikini, I just lay back, plugged in my MP3, and wondered how the day would progress.