Day 12
Another day, another glorious day; it is what I so like about a Mediterranean summer compared to an English one - the guarantee of sunshine and warmth. It is not to say I do not like England in the summer; an English summer's day spent in the perfect English countryside can be the best of things drifting into a warm English night - but there is no guarantee, no assurance at all of perseverance. Even in July or August you can have a whole fortnight of cloud and plentiful rain - a holiday spoilt though you do try and 'make the best' of it in that dogged 'stiff upper lip' English way. At least the weather gives the Englishman an ever ready, and interesting, topic of conversation.
What to do? Should I have a day of abstinence - a day to recharge my batteries so to speak but, like the Duracell bunny, my twin, swinging 'power cells' seemed to be maintaining their charge; indeed the gauge was pointing right up when I awoke in my borrowed bed just as it had done the day before!
Should I spend a morning on the beach comparing breasts? It is certainly a way I have spent time or rather out of time, undoing bikinis and swimsuits and making a comparison. Large breasts, small breasts, rounded as apples or pointy like pears, big areolae, small little pale pink ones, breasts all shades of brown and some whiter than white as if they have never seen the sun. Walking around out of time inspecting and completely naked, unworried if my erection pops up - as it does - is most enjoyable. Perhaps catch a few pretty girls licking ice creams and gently move the cone away to be replaced with my own cornet. I have often wondered just quite what the reaction of the girl would be if I was to restart time, how long would the pink tongue continue it lick, how far would it slip wetly up the curving dark pinkness of my plum head before there were words or worse? Feeling instead of the cornet the soft/hardness of my erection clasped in her hand. If she was alone, rather than on a crowded beach, it might be worth seeing just for a moment, leave her with the improbably memory of a second or two when her ice cream became a cock.
Descending from my hotel room I got as far as the reception before my eye was captured. It was as clear as the day is long that they were a honeymoon couple. The new clothes, the way they looked at each other, the emphasis on 'Mrs' at the reception gave it away. The piece of blue confetti on the back of her dress merely confirmed the obvious. What a lovely honeymoon for them, to come to the island and the particular hotel I was staying in. It would be bliss for them. All that sand, sea and sex.
It was unlikely in the modern world that they would be new to sex, new with each other or, indeed, inexperienced with earlier girl and boyfriends. I looked at the pretty girl with her long fair hair, little round smiling face and matching round breasts and wondered how many penises her lips had caressed, how many boyfriends had groaned and filled her mouth with their warm, sticky pearly fluid? Did it match the number who had groaned and deposited their semen between her thighs, thighs pleasingly outlined in her thin new cotton dress?
Had they already consummated the marriage? Had there been opportunity since the wedding and the bridal breakfast to lie together or had the act so necessary to complete the marriage not yet taken place? It seemed unlikely with the confetti still clinging: it seemed more likely they had been driven to the airport after a long night of partying and spent their wedding night asleep on the aeroplane high above Europe unable to undertake that so important exercise.
I had been planning on a walk but the opportunity of watching, even assisting consummation, was attractive and there was always the chance that this was their first time; the chance that the girl had been saving herself.
There was no need to follow them to find out their room number. It was after all printed on the key in the young groom's hand and a quick inspection out of time secured the information.
I gave them a few minutes before returning upstairs. It was extremely promising to find the girl already in bed under a single sheet and her new husband in the shower. Slowly I pulled the sheet down her body to gradually revealing her naked form. A certain dampness of hair and skin revealed she had already showered. Her round breasts, rather flattened by her lying down, were already topped by erect little nipples indicating she was excited. I stood admiring the pale pinkness of their surrounding areolae; such a pretty shade of pigmentation and lovely to see the circle of little bumps surrounding each nipple. Pleasing to run a finger around, just feeling the tiny bumps on my finger's end.
I pulled the sheet a little further. A flat tummy with the sweet indentation of her tummy button and then the first hint of blond pubic hair. It is funny how erotic pubic hair is. No different from the curly hair of a beard or a man's chest, or really the hair on a girl's head, but how suggestive is just the glimpse of a few strands, whether peeking from above a bikini or, indeed, a few wisps appearing further down. The sheet moved on and the whole patch of blond strands came into few almost obscuring the little slit. My finger, though, found it and traced the little valley downwards until it disappeared between her thighs. Well, well, well she was certainly excited! My finger had found her clitoris and there was no mistaking it was erect - a really standing little knob as big as her nipples. Moving the sheet even further I carefully opened her legs.
Is the female sex beautiful? Is an erect penis beautiful? Well, I suppose, like faces, some are more attractive than others and like faces they vary a very great deal. And beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It depends what you like. I liked what I saw very much! Pale pink crinkliness hiding the entrance to her body but with her clitoris peeking out from between the crinkled lips. A sweet little erection. I bent, I extended my tongue and touched the little raised nub with just the tip and circled lightly. So soft and so hard. I drew it into my mouth and sucked gently, just as I would on a nipple, as my nose, tickled by her blond curls took in her warm scent. Releasing her clitoris my tongue travelled downwards, parting the folds and sought her entrance. I still did not know whether she was well used to tongues slipping into her - had more than one boy or even a girl done that? Had a stiff penis pushed that way, had many stiff penises pushed and entered her leaving their calling cards or had the only stiffness that had slipped wetly inwards been her own fingers and perhaps the odd plastic, rounded object as she wondered what the real thing would be like - one day?
My tongue slipped in, as my whole face was pressed into her wetness, exploring as far as I could extend. Exiting, I travelled back up and once more ran my tongue around her rather prominent clitoris before gently sucking on it again.
Rising I was tempted to remove my shorts and let my penis head enter a little, or rather a lot, but first I wanted to watch and listen to them. Gently I closed her thighs and replaced the sheets before entering the wardrobe and making myself comfortable. I am a man of wardrobes! The crack of the doorway afforded an excellent view. Willing time to restart I was not surprised by the 'oooh' from the girl and the widening of eyes. It was unlikely that the slight retained squashing of her clitoris would not be felt by her as the skin reformed. Obviously she would put it down to her own sexual excitement and not to having just had her sex orally manipulated out of time by a stranger now lurking in her wardrobe. The idea would not occur to her!
The sound of the shower ceased and the girl's thighs moved under the sheet. Their gently rubbing together was a further indication of her excitement. Here was a girl ready for intercourse and awaiting her husband.
She glanced towards the bathroom and on cue her husband appeared. Not for him the towelling robe or even a towel. Clearly he had decided there was no need for modesty. Her face was a picture with the round 'O' of her mouth as she saw him. Could this really be their first time or were they just playing? I was surprised his cock was not erect considering how hard I was - and how upstanding was his wife's clitoris. They smiled at each other and he lifted the sheet.
"Oh, they are so beautiful," he said. And with that the blood began to pump and his erection came, a thickening and then with jerky movement it raised itself up into the air, as the foreskin retracted revealing the pale pink streamlined helmet head, pumping upwards until it reached its full height. Such a lovely thing for the new bride to see. The dramatic effect just the sight of her breasts had on her man.
Her eyes were wide and fixed on the object that had so suddenly appeared just inches from her face. I rather felt this was a test. If they were experienced together she would surely suck: if this was all very new then she might just touch - a tentative reaching and holding.
Her hand reached and touched. "Oh," she said, "it's so big and hard."
