The waters of the Mediterranean sparkled in the sunlight, deepest blue.
Thea put her bag down on the sand. She was all alone in a secluded corner of the island, far from the bustling crowds of the harbor. Nymphos was a beautiful place, she thought, but it could get a little busy sometimes.
It was her first visit. Thea, a fair-skinned English rose with fashionably short blonde hair, had decided she needed a holiday from her job as a publisher's assistant in London. She liked her work, but it could get a bit boring sometimes. Two weeks on a Greek island, far away from the cold rainy skies of England, was just what she needed.
She'd booked a room in a charming little hotel by the Nymphos waterfront, but after a couple of days it had begun to wear a little thin. The harbour was lovely, full of little fishing boats and charming old fisherman, its old stone piers extending far out into the water, but once she'd walked around it two or three times she felt like she'd seen everything.
Even Andromeda's Rock, the huge stone spear that jutted from the water in front of the esplanade, well within view of a dozen restaurants and comfortable tavernas, said to be the place where the legendary princess was chained up to await her fate, didn't hold her attention for long.
The fresh seafood was delicious, the old Greek chapel with its icons of saints was adorable, and she'd even been all the way up to the old lighthouse at the top of the hill behind the town, with its amazing view of the surrounding islands. But it was all just a little... conventional. There were too many tourists around, she decided, too many English and French and Italians, all here for the summer, doing the exact same things as her. She wanted something a little bit out of the ordinary.
And the bartender had given her just the thing.
He'd been a muscular young islander, all olive skin and dark curly hair, a big white smile on his face as he chatted to her. Thea fancied that, as a publisher's assistant, she was more interesting to talk to than the usual run of tourists. Though he didn't seem very interested in books. Still, he'd obviously enjoyed her company, so she must have done something right.
And he'd given her a hot tip. One he didn't share with just anyone.
It had taken her almost an hour to walk from Nymphos harbor to the cove, along the coastal path that ran almost the entire length of the island. Expensive villas overlooked the road, with decks out the front for men and women in elegant swimsuits to lounge and watch the world go by. At first the path was packed with tourists, posing for each other in front of interesting rock formations and even diving off the cliffs at swimming spots along the way.
But, as Thea walked, the crowds began to thin out. Finally, she was all alone. A single peasant shepherd watched her from high on a hillside, but as she kept going even he disappeared from view. It was just her and the waves, the rocks, the seagulls, the low sun-baked bushes and all the natural beauty of Greece.
This was what she'd come here, Thea thought.
A narrow stone staircase, overgrown and probably unused for years, led her down to a strip of brilliant white sand at the base of a cliff. There was a sign next to the end of the staircase, made from ancient wood and on the verge of falling apart, which Thea didn't pay any attention to. She was looking out at the cove. A lagoon of crystalline water, cupped between brilliant white rocks that seemed to hold it as gently as loving hands.
Out to sea, by the entrance of the cove, a buoy floated in the water. A flag had been attached to the top of the buoy, with symbols on it that Thea couldn't make out. She wondered what it was.
She put her bag down by the side of the wooden sign, began to unfasten the wrap she'd thrown on over her bikini, then stopped. Something had caught her attention. A splash of red paint on the side of the sign, that made Thea stop and actually read the words written on it.
NATURIST BEACH. CLOTHING PROHIBITED. PENALTIES APPLY.
Thea laughed. So this was an old nude beach, was it? Made sense. You couldn't ask for a better spot for privacy. The bartender hadn't mentioned it, but then he probably didn't even know. He said the cover hadn't been used as a swimming spot for years. Almost nobody went there except for locals. It was just too far away from the harbour, too well secluded, too mysterious.
He'd paused as he told her the next part, and even let his voice fall to a whisper. There were even rumours that smugglers used it sometimes, to pass on secret messages! He thought it wasn't true, but he couldn't be sure.
That had sealed the deal for Thea. She loved the idea of smugglers, of pirates, of highwaymen and bandits and masked desperadoes and anything mysterious and romantic like that. Her whole life she'd harbored a secret fantasy of being a girl detective, of unravelling whole rings of spies with just her wits and pluck and trusty pocketknife. She'd even published a few essays about it, although there was no way the bartender could possibly know that.
Of course she had to go. She'd told him she'd head out to the cove first thing next morning, and he'd laughed and told her in his adorably broken English to wait a few hours. The swimming would be best around one o'clock, when most people would be busy having lunch in the harborside restaurants or taking a stroll along the esplanade.
She slipped out of her wrap and stood on the sand, barefoot in her yellow bikini, already anticipating the feeling of the water on her skin. She was quite a curvy girl, Thea, tall and full-figured, with a pert round bottom that wiggled as she walked and full, creamy breasts, held together by the cups of her bikini top to create the deep valley of her cleavage. Her stomach was flat, though, the result of many productive hours in the gym, running down smoothly towards the junction of her white thighs.
She was glad she'd brought the wrap. It had been a long walk, and Thea wouldn't have liked to go the whole way in just a little bikini. She'd have turned far too many heads. She didn't mind wearing it on the beach, since everyone else was doing it, and you could always go in the water if too many people started looking your way. But walking along the path in just a bikini, with everyone else in yoga pants and tank tops and cargo shorts, would have been a little too much.
She tucked the wrap in the bag, paused, and stretched her arms high above her head, preparing to go in the water.
And had a thought.
After all, nobody else was around. People didn't know about this beach. There was essentially zero chance that anybody was going to come here.
She looked around, scanning the rocks suspiciously. She couldn't see a single place to hide. It was all bare stone, no cracks or crevices. The last thing you'd want at a nude beach was convenient little holes for peeping toms to lurk in.
After all, she'd wanted an adventure.
If I don't do it, Thea thought, I'll probably always regret it. Nobody has to know. In fact, I'll definitely never tell anyone for as long as I live. It can be my little secret forever.
