In this story a married woman plays around with different sex partners. You're free to move on if that's not your thing.
This was our first evening of an unusual beach holiday -- unusual because for the first time in years we had our daughter Maxine with us. She'd recently finished uni, had no money and was desperate for sun and a chance to relax and think about what to do next with her life. Dom and I were sure she'd be bored but were delighted of course to have our grown-up daughter with us.
I like to spend my holiday sunbathing on the beach. Dom's happy on the beach for an hour reading the newspaper but really likes to tramp round historic buildings or museums and dingy archaeological sites -- heaps of stones and gloomy holes in the ground. He likes the beer too and makes sure to find somewhere good for lunch and an evening meal.
We expected to struggle with what to do with Maxine but she slept most of the first morning. Dom and I were out early, excited and ready to explore. We walked along the beach before it was too hot, drank coffee at a cafe on the sands and wandered back into town to look at the shops. Dom bought me a gorgeous pair of garnet earrings which was sweet of him. He has an eye for beautiful objects -- women included -- and to be fair he's always complimentary about how I look and wants me to show my best. He knows it's hard for me to be on holiday with my daughter, forever in the shadow of her youth and beauty.
Maxine met us for lunch in a taverna in the main street and we laid plans for the rest of the day. Dom would slope off in search of a fortress dating back to Alexander the Great. The heat didn't seem to bother him. Maxine and I would spend a few hours on the beach. We'd meet back at the apartment for a siesta. It was then that Maxine informed us that she intended spending the evening in town enjoying the nightlife. We were curious to know what she'd be doing.
"Nightclubs, booze, dancing and boys," she told us. "I don't go much for the booze."
Dom said unhelpfully, "I guess you came for the boys. Frustrated young men with permanent hard-ons."
"You put it well dad. Everyone's on holiday and here to have a good time."
I was uneasy about this conversation. "Going out clubbing on your own? Are you really sure?"
"Be your age mum."
"I guess there are lots of boys in a place like this," said Dom.
"Plenty for everyone. But lots of girls too. They mostly move around in predatory groups. I do better on my own."
"And what do girls do with these boys?" I wanted to know.
"I told you. Talk mostly. Dance and show off our outfits. Who doesn't want to be admired?"
"Your mother would love a chance to show off her new clothes," said Dom.
"I can do that anywhere," I replied.
He laughed. "Don't pretend to be so innocent. We know what Maxine really means. Everyone likes to show off and be admired but in a nightclub everyone's showing off to pull."
"Well I don't want to do that. I don't need to."
"What do you think, Maxine? Do you think your mother might enjoy your nightclub? Showing off her frock and her sexy bosom, chatting up the boys and giving you some competition. You should take her with you."
Maxine laughed fiendishly. "Very loyal dad but I don't think so. Anyway not dressed in the clothes she bought for herself. You have to put it out there. She needs to tart herself up. No sensible frocks and sturdy shoes."
Dom laughed. "I guess you're afraid of the competition. Take her along to pay the bills." It's Dom's joke that Maxine's a spendthrift and never has any money -- which is true.
"Stop making fun of me," I snapped. "Is everyone finished?"
I was confused and found the conversation disturbing. How could my husband and daughter talk that way? It was bad enough joking about my daughter going out on the town to pick up boys but it was too naughty of Dom, even as a joke, to suggest that I might like to do the same. I know they were teasing but I found it hard to take. I didn't need reminding that a lot of time had passed since I was dating and that my daughter was queen bee now. And I was cross with Dom for having such a twisted imagination. Apart from the obvious point that I was married, did he really imagine that I wanted to sit in a club chatting up half-drunk boys half my age?
Dom got back from his pointless walk tired and dusty. He had a shower and joined me on the bed, surprising me by wanting to make love. We were good and he was extra loving, making sure I enjoyed myself before we both fell asleep. When I woke, he was making coffee. He brought me a mug in bed and gave me a kiss with a sweet smile. I was still drowsy from sleep, enjoying the lazy moment. Looking up at my husband, I thought, I'm so lucky to have such a kind, handsome partner. He's so good to me.
"So what had you fired-up?" I asked. Were you worried I might be frustrated and go out on the pull?"
He laughed aloud and told me he'd been overcome by how sexy I looked in my tight shorts as I walked along the beach.
"It was you who were sexed up from talking of going out with Maxine," he accused me. "Competing with your daughter for the attention of the prettiest boy. Showing off your figure, maybe letting them have a glimpse of your new underwear."
I slapped him furiously. "Don't you dare make jokes like that. You have a filthy mind."
"Do I dear? You didn't hide your excitement very well and Maxine thought you'd be a natural on the dancefloor jiggling your boobs and flashing your fancy panties. Like daughter like mother. You're both stars."
"I'm insulted. She's mocking me. Don't let her make out I'm the slut."
Shortly after, we were in the main room of our self-catering apartment and Maxine was getting ready to go out. When she was gone, Dom and I planned to have a quiet dinner, take it easy and come back for an early night. It's a pity but I could be sure Dom wouldn't be up to more sexy play. He's definitely a once-a-day kind of man. That's usually me too -- in fact more like once-a-week -- but we were on holiday and I guess I was in a relaxed mood.
Dom had helped out Maxine with some pocket money and she'd bought herself an impressive selection of fashion for the holiday. This was now spread about the room. The clothes were mostly second hand but quality stuff we never saw in the shops where we lived. There was a beach wrap of a fine cotton print, a stunning cream bikini which hid almost nothing, some warm weather tops and skirts and some new underwear.
I'd examined it all when she first brought it home, looking for ideas to help my own holiday wardrobe. I had no intention of being made into a frump by my own daughter.
"This is a little unsubtle," I'd suggested, holding up the bikini. It was almost nothing in my hand. "Your dad will have a heart attack if he sees you wearing it."
Maxine looked at me with scorn. "It's Dior. I found it in a charity shop. Dad will love it. He's proud of me and you're only saying that because you're jealous."
"Maybe." Maxine was lean and fit and had every right to be proud of how she looked.
"Well mum, you're not bad-looking yourself. Good boobs and trim hips. If you're jealous why not give dad a treat? Get yourself something to show off your breasts and hips. You can look good if you try and he'll be proud of you too."
"I'm too old to parade about nearly naked. I'll buy some underwear. Dom likes that." I was checking out her new underwear and laughed out loud. It was ridiculously impractical -- a strapless bra and a variety of flimsy thongs. They gave me some ideas. "Tell me, you minx, who are you hoping to impress with these?"
She laughed. "It's best to be prepared. If I'm on a hot date I don't want to be let down by wearing baggy panties."
I shuddered. "Too much information. You'll have to behave while you're with us."
"Yes mum. Do you want me to choose you some sexy knickers you'll be proud to show off? In the right bra any boy would want a feel of those gorgeous boobs."
I giggled uneasily, dismayed by my daughter's imagination. "I think Dom would have something to say about that. He's as much as I can manage."
"You need to relax. This is a holiday and Dad would want you to go for it. And he certainly wouldn't want you caught out in baggy knickers."
"You have a filthy mind. I'll choose my own underwear and it's not for showing off. It's to make me feel good about myself."
This talk from my daughter was a bit over the edge but I was impressed by her unembarrassed attitude to sex. She was right, I was envious of her youth and beauty. I needed to make sure I could feel confident alongside her.
I bought an expensive bikini. There was more to it than Maxine's but not much. Would I have the nerve to wear it? I packed my old one as well in case. Other than that, I ended up buying too much underwear. Once I started looking, I was entranced by what was available. I ended up with sets in black, cream, pink and pale blue. They all looked good and my confidence grew. Not that anyone other than Dom -- and possibly Maxine -- would have a chance to admire them. And there was a shortie nightie in shocking magenta. I'd wear that of an evening to remind Maxine that it was I who was taking a man to bed every night.
There'd been some talk of what she should wear on her night out. She went for a shower and came back with a towel round her and began picking over the clothes.
"What do you think?" She held up a packet of fishnet tights.
"It's too warm here for tights," I said.
"Men love fishnets, don't ask me why," said Dom.
"It's because they emphasise curves. You want me to wear the fishnets Daddy?"
"Don't encourage her dear," I said.
"I'd never get your mum to wear them for me so give me a treat. She thinks they're tarty, don't you darling?"
"Well they are."
"Sounds like the right thing," said Maxine. "You've helped a lot."
