It is difficult to recall, certainly in winter just how hot it can be in summer. The sweat was dripping from me as I sat outside my villa in the shade of a tree thinking about my writing. Another good morning's work - I was doing well - and I had come out in the heat of the midday sun. A cool drink and a swim, yet minutes later there I was shining with sweat. Some people I know find the heat so sapping, so consuming of their energy: I find it quite the reverse and certainly it increases rather than decreases my libido. I lifted my limp cock and looked at it. Already it had found its way into Joni twice and done what it could do. Would it find its way into little Gina? What would Karen say?
I watched a lizard making its way across a small rock, little darting movements and then its head raised, eyes searching for danger. The heat of the sun, the flora and fauna so different from England. It was like being in another world. A beautiful sun scorched world with seas so blue and so warm, oranges growing on trees - yes, not twelve feet from me - and the colours so vivid as to be almost unreal. Gina, too, was almost unreal. Almost as if she was a figment of my imagination. And, I thought, you can do what you like in your imagination. I had done many things in my imagination to the little black girl of my thoughts who had, sort of, become Gina!
Would I be permitted to have sexual intercourse with Gina? I had, it had seemed, got quite close to being fellated by her the day before. Seemingly would have been had I not erected quite so easily along with Tristram sitting on that wall - my fault really! I knew I wanted to, knew I really wanted to, but also knew it would, obviously, not be fantasy but reality. I had the sort of excuse with Sharon and again this year with Joni that I was not having sexual intercourse with them alone. Rather I had engaged in the 'other intercourse.' A thin excuse, a tenuous attempt at justifying my actions perhaps. A sharing with their husbands, a support to their husbands: not being with another woman alone. No less satisfying, indeed strangely exciting and a very different experience - had I not been thinking, even dreaming about the 'other intercourse' all the last year?
Dreaming? Yes, I could still remember waking in the small hours to find my penis spurting away all by itself within my pyjamas and the images of the wet dream still strong in my mind. I had lain there with Karen sleeping beside me, feeling just a bit damp, knowing how starched my pyjama bottoms would be in the morning, recalling the dream. It had been Sharon and Alan in my dream but Karen had been there too, watching. Despite the setting being familiar, well Sharon and Alan's villa and the sun hot, Karen had been dressed in one of her business suits. Her trim figure looking so fine in crisp white blouse and dark blue pinstriped jacket and skirt, her legs clad in nylon - absurd in the heat and location but dreams do not follow the norms of reality at all. She fully dressed, we naked.
Standing there Karen had a naked man either side of her and was working their erections with her hands. "When they come you do." And I had - right there in my pyjamas and woke up with the freshness of the dream. Me spurting inside Sharon, the two naked men spurting in Karen's hands. What did that mean? Did it mean anything?
I stood and walked down my path. My thoughts had caused me to erect. The naked erect explorer off again. Pleasant to wander like that. Penis standing proud and waggling as I walked rather than swinging. Next door not a sign of life but I knew they were all out for the day sightseeing. Joni and Cory showing Gina and Tristram the sights. I had no concerns about turning up next door naked at any time, not after what had already transpired there, but even with all that, to turn up already erect seemed a bit overstepping the mark! Best to be invited to erect once there - one way or another! But I knew no one was there and. actually, was softening by the time I reached the wall between the villas.
Perhaps a shame Gina had not stayed behind. It would have been a pleasing sight to see her in her sun hat reading by the pool, nice to have sat chatting with her for a while before walking to the sea. Nicer even if she had offered to erect me. But I had to be content with just taking the walk alone. Out of the iron gate I went and along the dusty track. It was something I would not have dreamt of doing in England: going for a walk in the countryside naked but for sunglasses and a hat - not something I would have dreamt doing even on a really sunny day. Just so pleasant, though, to be out like that - so free and easy. My mind partly on the pleasure of the walk and partly on my work.
I had meant to have a solitary swim but the German couple were back, their boat moored once more. There they were sitting on their towels, bronzed and as naked as the day they were born. At first they did not see me but then Bettina looked behind her and began pulling on a bikini. I waved as I recalled their names. Burkhart recognised me from the night before and waved back.
An instinctive self consciousness about my nakedness needed a bit of overcoming, I faltered in my step but then summoned courage and carried on. To them it was our beach and perhaps not at all surprising for me to be naked upon it - after all they were sunbathing in just the same manner. I thought my appearance was perfectly casual and relaxed as I walked across the sand to them and shook hands. Burkhart certainly a fine figure of a man, now revealed in all the clarity of sunlight. Bettina similarly showing most of her own fine feminine figure, albeit now bikini clad. Pleasant to talk and then good to have a swim in the sea. I walked back past them wishing them a good afternoon. Nice to be able to see Bettina's full nakedness. The bikini had disappeared. Her body a delight to the male eye.
Almost out of sight at the edge of the path upwards from the beach I turned and looked back. Such an attractive pair on the beach. I had not embarrassed myself at the sight of Bettina's nakedness. There had been nothing remotely sexual about our encounter. Simply naturists on a beach. Casually naked together. Not something I was really used to though, perhaps, they were. But, as I looked back, my thoughts were somewhat otherwise. I could still see Bettina's full chest and her completely shaven mons veneris. For that matter I could still see Burkhart's similarly shaven genitalia. Would later that afternoon they be put together? Had they perhaps already been put together that morning? It would have been very good to have seen that. Very nice to have sat on the sand and watched their denuded genitalia coming together. I had seen something of it the night before but better to see it in the full light of the day.
But not a hint of amorous activity on the sand. Burkhart's penis lay at rest: not so my own! Discretion is the better part of valour and I did not risk staying long like that and looking, still less having a pleasant little wank at the sight of Bettina's naked charms. Instead I turned and climbed upwards with a hard on. The 'mountain goat' look Sharon had described the year before or the 'naked explorer' look- in my own terminology. At the top I stood looking out to sea for a while gently massaging myself before making my way back to the villa and my work.
I had a bit of a surprise coming across the wall for an early evening drink. I had suggested my place for dinner but Cory had insisted. "There's four of us to one of you. We'll come tomorrow." A surprise because there, posed on the patio, was Gina. Clearly posed because it was not a natural position and clearly posed because Joni was drawing her.
Not a natural pose but balletic in its grace. On her knees but bending far forward with her arms outstretched across the ground with wrists crossing over each other, one open hand a little ahead of the other. Her thighs wide spread and her bottom in the air with her feet coming together behind her. Her head resting a little to one side on one arm. A slight curve to her back and the vertebrae of her long neck showing. A beautiful pose and her pretty black skin so shiny with lotion in the sun. I walked around her admiring - not least the view between her legs. I had not seen that in such detail, not seen the blackness of her nether lips nor the blackness of her wrinkled bottom hole. It was a very erotic sight and one which was a pleasure to be permitted to just stand and stare.
Naked I could not hide my appreciation, as I stood and looked at Gina's pudenda and bottom I just pumped up there and then.
"Penny for your thoughts," called Joni.
It showed how settled I was becoming in the easy sexuality of my neighbours. Never could I have imagined how unconcerned I would be at publically erecting. No effort at all at trying to hide myself as I casually walked across to Joni and looked at her drawing. It was of course perfect. A wonderful representation of the scene before her - indeed a second representation as she had already done one of the same pose but from a different angle.
"So good, Joni, so good."
"Gina or my drawing?"
"Both!"
Joni picked up a dry paintbrush and tickled the underside of my erection with it. It was, after all, rather there at her shoulder pointing back towards Gina as I looked down at her drawing. The touch of the (probably squirrel) hairs delicate but massively exciting. I had not had my fraenum tickled with a paintbrush before. I suspect few men have. It is to be recommended.
A smile from her, a rather knowing smile as she dipped the paintbrush into wash and began to apply it to her drawing. I stood beside her watching, rather hoping a brush would again tickle my erection waiting at her shoulder. I was lucky. With each new brush the same tickling, the same touch of delicate hairs. Finer brushes and finer hairs. Enough to make a penis weep in pleasure - and it did, a little welling up of clear fluid, a sign of excitement. The clear fluid there as lubrication should the penis find a vagina to enter. There before me Gina's beautiful body in all its balletic glory, beside me Joni's equally naked body. I looked downwards from her bright lipstick to her ample breasts. Nothing hidden - she was wearing nothing at all. Between the cleavage I could see the trimmed brown bush down below, between her thighs.
Less than twenty-four hours before in the dark I had pressed upwards into that very bush, had shared its warm and wet embrace with the artist's husband and had experienced the wonderful release of ejaculation. I wanted to do the same again. I had not that lunchtime after watching Bettina allowed myself to release at the top of the cliff. I was now more than ready for sex. More than happy for Cory to appear and Joni to stand and prepare herself for the twin mating; or for me to be told to penetrate Gina, vaginally or otherwise - 'Push half into her bottom and then pause whilst I draw' - the exquisite tightness, the delightful difficulty of entry and then sight of my penis stretching her black and wrinkled hole; or, instead, for Joni just to turn and slide her red lipsticked mouth over me, her tongue to tickle and her throat accept the spurting of my excitement. It was, though, to be none of these.
"You can wank if you like. I like men wanking. I like drawing men wanking. The hand and the penis. It does a lot for me - and not just artistically!"
"I don't think I should. I mean I wouldn't want to get anything on your work."
Her laugh. "It wouldn't be the first time!" She turned and saw the running fluid exuding from me. Her brush moved and collected. Almost before I knew what was happening my fluid was becoming part of the picture - wet on Gina's outstretched black body. The symbolism of my semen on the drawing of her naked body not at all missed on me.
