Room for Two

It was not exactly what I had expected: indeed, it was nothing at all like what I had expected when I had got off the plane at the airport and driven to the villa. I had thought it would all simply be a quiet week of steady work at the keyboard punctuated by meals and sleep. It turned out not to be as simple as that - not at all.

Surprising really for a family man to be driving through the hills and down to a rather large villa all by himself, but the family, wife and sons and daughter were due to join me in a week's time. I had work to finish, a publisher's deadline to meet. Alone I could work solidly in peace and tranquility undisturbed by family, publisher, the Internet or my mobile 'phone. No Internet connection was mentioned and the letting details had specifically mentioned the lack of mobile coverage. How very un-modern!

I had chosen well, the villa an utter delight. It had views of the sea and the surrounding tree covered hills. Comfortable and well appointed – rather! The dark blue tiled infinity swimming pool a joy and as for the peace and tranquility – it was spot on if far too big for me on my own. I rather rattled around.

Another villa sat next door but it could only just be glimpsed and having been given the key to my villa and watched the local man drive away I was just bowled away by where I found myself. The seclusion and the Mediterranean beauty of it all. The wife and kids were just going to love it!

Unpacked - that hardly took very long, the villa explored, I thought a swim was just the thing after a long flight. A swim, a bite to eat and then perhaps a couple of hours sleep to recover from the overnight flight and then time to get down to some typing - the work I was actually there to do. Pulling out my swimming trunks from the drawer where I had so recently placed them when unpacking, it occurred to me they were not really necessary – there was no one, absolutely no one to see me naked: so why get them wet?

It was a slightly odd feeling stepping out of the door and onto the swimming pool patio naked. Of course nudity in one's bathroom or bedroom is completely normal but stepping out into the hot sun like that, feeling it so warm on my naked skin – so warm everywhere – stepping out into the open air completely naked was a bit strange to me, but rather nice. I thought I could get used to it!

It felt even better swimming without trunks. I stepped down into the soft warm water, luxuriating in its cooling freshness against the heat of the day. There was no shock to the body, no need to brace oneself to step in further, even dipping genitalia into the water felt good – not that gritting of teeth needed for the North Sea but rather a delight to feel the water cooling warm skin. I swam easily up and down, conscious of my penis and balls hanging down there, moving in the water not enclosed in nylon. It was nice. When I stopped swimming and stood there in the pool, there was my penis floating in the water, just bobbing around.

It was rather sensual. I hoped Karen would feel the same, though with the sons and daughter present there would not be opportunity for amorous embracing in the pool – alas! Unless, that is, they were away on the beach or off with friends, newly made, leaving the two of us to swim alone and perhaps make love in the pool. I had not done that. I imagined lifting Karen up and onto me. An easy thing in the buoyancy of the water I assumed. The thought, though, was enough to cause that male swelling, that involuntary indication of male arousal.

In the heat there was no need to towel, indeed I immediately noticed how pleasant it was not to have wet swimming trunks dripping down my body. Naked, with just a damp coating of water and with that rather nice feeling of being pleasantly erect, I set off to explore the villa's grounds. They were not that extensive but a few dusty paths meandered through olive trees, oleander and Hibiscus bushes. It was all rather colourful and pleasant - and very hot. There was a frisson of danger in walking around naked, and moreover erect, but I was quite sure I was alone – and I was right. It had amused me how quickly I had moved from daring to come outside naked to wandering around tumescent.

It was very pleasant strolling bare footed down the dusty paths, the dappled shade giving a little relief from the sun but, of course, there were whole patches of sun where it suddenly struck hot on my naked skin. Rather nice to stand in the shade with just my erection bathed in sunlight, the feeling of heat keeping it hard. Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps it was thoughts of intercourse with my wife back in the swimming pool, perhaps it was the idea of being the naked and erect explorer but I found my penis in no hurry to subside. A few pleasant strokes did not go amiss! Nice to be walking along like that, delighting in the experience – I knew where it was all leading. I would be fully exercising my penis before my nap – well why not!

I had not really thought, not quite appreciated the inevitability but as the path turned around a particularly fine red and white Hibiscus I found myself standing in a patch of brilliant sunshine facing the side of the other neighbouring villa. It was separated from my villa's ground by a low stone wall. There it was, rising two stories in parts and with a side, shady sitting area directly in front of me complete with wooden table and chairs. Had anyone been sitting there I would undoubtedly have been seen, the patch of sunlight would have been like a spotlight revealing a forty year old, sandy headed man of average height and build, sporting a fully grown male erection. The potential for embarrassment colossal! As it was, there was nobody there, the shutters were closed and all looked shut up and unoccupied

I scuttled back for a towel to wrap around myself but the shock had at least lessened the appearance of male arousal, my penis swinging thickly but no longer sticking up above the horizontal. It was almost the only time I wore anything at the villa until I went to fetch the family from the airport. Returning, wrapped in a towel, I walked closer to the neighbouring villa. It was very clearly shuttered up, the chairs were not set around the table but stacked. It did all have the look of being unoccupied. My precaution with the towel was unnecessary. But what if someone had been there? In my mind's eye I imagined a naked black girl with a big straw hat, her hand going to her mouth in shock as she shot to her feet, her breasts bouncing and bringing her vee of tight black curls up into the sunlight. Me, momentarily transfixed to that spot in the sunlight in my grounds and also in shock, before stepping back out of sight, my heart racing.

But being my imagination it did not end there! The reality would have been the girl rushing to tell her parents or companions about a forty year old man with an erection next door. In my imagination, though, it was rather different. I have always had a thing about black girls, though never experienced the reality, and certainly not in the last twenty years of married life – Karen is not black - well her skin is not, her hair quite a different matter – and my sexual relations have been solely with her, well, and my hand of course.

In my mind what would I have the imagined black girl do? Call for her sister and have a second naked black girl appear, or call for her parents and sister, and find myself confronted by a fine mature big breasted black woman, her tall, naked, strong and big penised husband plus the two naked sisters? The imaginary sexual possibilities considerable, but perhaps a little peculiar! It was better to imagine the simple, but unlikely scenario, of the naked girl with the straw hat waving and then running after me.

"Please don't go. Please, you must be our new neighbour. We heard somebody was coming. It's so boring here with just Ma and Pa, who else is here with you? Girls, boys? I like boys. Come and have a look at our villa - Ma and Pa are out; may I play with your penis?"

Walking forward to look at the neighbouring villa I felt my erection pushing against the towelling. I liked the idea of the black girl in the straw hat choosing to accompany the naked, erect explorer - and play with his penis!

The other villa looked very pleasant but so was my villa. Perhaps another time a further exploration over the wall into the grounds of the neighbouring villa might be in order. Perhaps naked again – why not? Perhaps erect again – why not?

Moving away from the neighbouring villa the towel slipped from me. Much nicer walking without it, much nicer feeling my erection unrestricted. Nice to imagine the black girl holding it as she talked away. Coming around to the other side of my villa I stepped back out onto the pool area. I had circumnavigated the grounds of my villa not only naked but erect. It rather surprised me. A strange thing to have done.

Another dip in the pool before a nap? Perhaps I should collect the towel first. I turned and walked back for my towel which I had simply left where it fell, my thoughts rather more on the imagined black girl.

"Would you like to touch me?"

My erection pointed out my path back to the towel. Pleasant to think of reaching and holding the girl's dark breasts, feeling her coal black nipples hard in the palms of my hands. A few more steps and I was imagining stroking her flat tummy and then her tight black curls. As I stepped over the towel I imagined her opening her legs and me feeling the soft insides of her thighs, the skin so dark and running with her excitement - liberally running! Unsurprisingly I was wanking by now, imagining my fingers travelling upwards into wet heat, fingering her labia before stirring her pudding and sticking my thumb in.

Karen, my wife, has a small clitoris. It is difficult to find. Not that she does not wriggle and react strongly to its manipulation. She, herself, certainly knows where it is! No doubt, by contrast, my fantasies tend to have big clitted women and girls, the organ, ideally, protruding and so obvious when erect. Unsurprisingly my fantasy black girl's stuck out an inch or more, smooth, clearly very sensitive and so wet - and she making such nice noises as I stroked.

Very pleasant thoughts to masturbate to as I stood there, back in the patch of sunlight, in clear view of the neighbouring villa. No longer was I imagining seeing the naked black girl in her hat looking at me in shock - now she was with me. I imagined the girl squatting down, her thighs so open and her sex so wet. A lovely image in my mind. Coal black inner lips, all scalloped and frilly, parted and showing their pink inner colour, an inviting vagina, her little pee hole and above it all her clitoris standing so clearly, firm, perhaps quivering and as black as anything but with a pink glans. Wonderful to imagine seeing such a sight but also to conjure up the vivid image of her pretty dark lips moving forward and opening, her intention clear.

"How old are you?"

"Just eighteen." Whispered as her lips closed over me.

"Oh, that's all right then!"

Standing in the hot sunshine, sweat trickling down my naked body, my hand working my penis I let fly. I had not come for days. It was a glorious release, my spunk shooting out and flying to fall splat, splat, splat on the dusty dry ground. A wonderfully free ejaculation. A glorious release imagined into the mouth of the black girl, overflowing and dripping white onto her young and so black breasts: but in reality not coming inside a mouth but doing the thing in clear view, in the bright sunshine and not hidden in the shade, of my neighbour's villa. If anybody had been watching... but there was nobody.

What a wank! Turning I bent and picked up my towel and, still dripping, walked back to my villa for another cooling swim and my promised nap. Was I sweating!

Being alone in the villa there was absolutely no need for clothes. The air conditioning kept my work room and bedroom cool enough but not cool enough to need clothing. That would have been a waste of electricity. Why make the place cold? I became used to working naked, making my meals naked, going out to my pool for a swim naked. Despite the manly temptation of having one's own penis ever there to fondle and work I rather ignored it except when I needed to urinate. The publisher's deadline was at the forefront of my mind rather than the imaginary naked, black girl in her straw hat! The only exception to my naked routine was going to the shop for milk and food.

So nice to stretch, walk out of the cool of the villa into the heat of the day – 36 degrees C in the shade and let myself down into the cool water of the swimming pool and swim up and down before returning to my work. The work was going well. Closing the laptop at the end of my third day I stepped out in the early evening sunshine for a swim. Lightly drying myself I hung the towel up and walked back down the dusty path around the villa's garden or grounds. The route I had taken on my arrival. I was not in the guise of the naked, erect explorer. I was not thinking of eighteen year old black girls but rather what I needed to do the next day on my book.

It was more than a shock to step, unthinking, around the bush to where I would see the neighbouring villa and discover there had been a very substantial change. There I was in that patch of sunlight looking at a villa very much open for use. The light blue shutters had been opened, the chairs and table rearranged and there was an overall air of habitation about it all rather confirmed by the couple sitting at the table. Not the black girl of course, not her parents with imagined sister but, instead, real people.

Real people who had seen me. My relief at not being the tiniest bit tumescent, let alone erect was considerable. I was not respectable, I was stark naked, I was, certainly, suddenly embarrassed – yes: but not utterly embarrassed! Perhaps rather less embarrassed because I was not alone in being naked. This was even more obvious when the man stood up and waved, clearly inviting me closer. It seemed a bit rude to rush away and grab a towel or find a swimming costume or even shirt and shorts before going over to see them. He would then be naked and I would not.

In a bit of a daze I walked closer. I had sort of planned to take a walk and explore the other villa but had not got around to doing so - my work had absorbed me. I had thought of exploring naked, had thought it would be rather exciting but I had certainly not thought of going across the wall naked with people in residence!

Of course I had been naked with other boys in the showers at school but I had not gone up to a naked man ever and shaken his hand.

"Hallo, Alan Hall," he said reaching across the wall with his hand, "my wife, Sharon."

I had not at all missed Sharon as I had stood semi paralysed in the patch of sunshine. Anything but a black girl. As pale skinned as anything. Whereas Alan had been sitting half in the sunshine, his lack of tan lines indicating a man used to being naked in the outdoors, Sharon had been sitting in the shade out of the sun and wearing a straw hat against its rays. It was remarkably similar to the imagined black girl's hat. From under the straw hat cascaded – and that was the right word – red hair, a beautiful and exotic burnished copper. It was a very natural colour and, as she stood to greet me I gained confirmation of this. Sharon was not naked, unlike her husband, a thin white cotton wrap or shawl lay over her shoulders and down her body, probably more against the sun than any kind of modesty. Whilst it sort of hid her breasts and hips it parted just below her stomach leaving a triangle uncovered, a triangle which, as she stood, gave the most perfectly framed view of her mons veneris or would have done had it not been covered by an amazingly untamed riot of flame red curls. She was undoubtedly a natural red head.

Yes, I have a thing about black girls but I also have a thing about red heads. If I am candid, I have spilt a lot of semen in the orifices of imagined red heads.

"Down boy!" I thought but could sense no more than a twitch from my penis as I concentrated first on shaking Alan's hand and then making sure I made eye contact rather than eye to breast or eye to pubis contact with Sharon as I shook her hand. A faux pas which is so easy for men to make!

So pleasant to be invited over the wall for Limonata on their terrace. I could hardly refuse. A little feeling of awkwardness in stepping over the wall bringing my genitalia rather up towards them. I felt much more comfortable sitting at their wooden table as that rather hid the lower parts of naked bodies. They had obviously been about to drink. Before Sharon was a tray with jug and glasses, Alan fetched a third glass and Sharon poured. The Limonata was fresh, home made, refreshing and delicious.

The conversation flowed and I found the couple very agreeable. There was a great deal of similarity between them and Karen and myself. Similar ages, same number of children – albeit theirs were all boys though not with them at the villa at that moment, similar jobs and so on. I found myself relaxed and enjoying myself until Sharon leant across and poured more Limonata. An ample woman. Not at all fat but ample, not the rather svelte figure Karen had despite the children, but certainly ample and that included in the breast department. Karen's, again despite the children, were somewhat small – but very nice. Sharon's thin wrap slipped a little forward and my eyes dropped to see one fleshy breast and its pale nipple and areola..

It happened! I felt myself erecting under the table, my penis jerking upwards until I felt it touch the wooden underside of the table. Awful – but I did not need to move, did not need to go anywhere. I had a whole glass of Limonata to finish. They did not need to know what had happened - could not see. But would it go down? The thing would not, no matter what I talked about, I could still see the movement of those breasts within the light cotton. There was, I supposed, a chance that Alan had erected too but I certainly could not see that and he was, after all, used to the sight of her breasts and she his erections.

Finally I found myself subsiding, it might have been a little thicker, a little bigger than when I had arrived but men's penises are always changing shape with temperature and so on. It was not something to be remarked upon, I thought. I took the opportunity to stand and make my excuses about work to be done, how pleasant it had been to chat, what a lovely villa they owned and would they like to come around to my villa the next evening.

It was odd to think they were both presumably watching my retreating bare bottom as I made my way over the wall and up my path; I turned and waved. They were indeed watching. As I made my way back to my villa I let myself think about Sharon – she of the big bosom, cascading red hair and wild red haired pubis. It did not take much thought and, unsurprisingly, I walked onto my swimming pool and patio area fully erect whilst imagining sinking it into those flame red curls, finding soft wetness and doing the man thing. Such a relief they had not seen me like that!

Stepping into my swimming pool I paused with my balls dipped in the cool water but my erection standing above the water. It had been, indeed was, quite terrible of me – lusting after another man's wife. And it was absolutely that. It was one thing to imagine a little black girl so improbably wanting to suck off a man over twice her age; fantasy is one thing, a safety valve for our animal urges, but actually desiring a real person who is not your wife is quite a different kettle of fish. I looked down, yes, my balls certainly needed cooling but perhaps in ice water! The eye of my penis looked straight up at me. It seemed to wink as a small drop of fluid came out - the eye opening and then closing as the fluid ran down. Was it winking or crying at my foolishness?