It was during that, couple of hours, time I expect that I did a number of things I hadn't done since being married. Like letting a man kiss me full on the lips, like kissing him back and exchanging tongues with him, like staying pressed tightly against a guy who had a very evident erection, like squirming myself against that, like letting a guy stroke and squeeze my bum and like letting another one caress my tits.
If the hotel had not have been in darkness when we got back at around 1.30 am, I fear for what would have gone on! The odd thing was that I was a little upset that it was shut.
On our last night there was only one other couple left from 'our gang.' They were a Finnish couple, Angetta and Sten, with whom we had probably been the most friendly. We had eaten with them, had a couple of drinks then walked along the beach. They had told us about life in Finland and particularly about their nationality's attitude towards sex. It was much freer than ours. It included mixed, nude saunas, open marriages and, effectively partner sharing, The way they described it in the moonlight of that Cretan beach was not at all sordid or, come to that, at all come on. They were not propositioning us and they made no really suggestive remarks, hints of invitations for the future maybe, but nothing like, "Why don't we get it on tonight?" A tiny party of me thought that was somewhat of a pity for it had been Sten's erection I had squirmed against the night before.
Kevin's and my relationship returned to its norm in the weeks after returning from Crete. That was both sexually and with our general relationship. He was out a lot with business, entertaining clients, or so he said, although I did then, as I had pre Crete, suspected he had 'bits on the side.'
I kept in touch by e-mail with some of the girls from 'the gang', particularly Angetta, Sten's wife. She and I had had several deeply meaningful conversations, as we had lain topless on the beach. We had talked about love and relationships and, of course partners and men in general. What she said fascinated me. Her outlook, which she promised me was extremely typical of the Finns, was so different to mine and the Brit way of looking at things.
It started from the base point that monogamy was as unnecessary as it was unlikely amongst most couples.
"So Mandy," she had said her deep blue eyes captivating me as she looked into mine. "Once couples embrace that idea then they can have a sexually liberated life-style."
She went on at some length, certainly strongly encouraged by me, for I was genuinely very interested.
She explained that she was happy to share Sten. "That way he always comes back," she smiled adding. "But of course that's on the proviso that he shares me as well." I asked her about how she felt about having other men and again she smiled as she replied. "It stops me wondering, it gives me a sanity-check on Sten and it's great fun, so I love it."
She explained that not all friendly couples became lovers, but many did. Sometimes, she told me. "Just for an evening, but sometimes for years. We have been lovers with our closest friends for, oh must be ten years now."
She told me that sex was looked on as something to be enjoyed and was not necessarily an aspect of love. "Good sex is possible without love and love is possible without great sex," she said.
Chapter 4
The drive to Gatwick was, as usual, awful. The traffic was snarled up at the QE2 Bridge at Dartford and at the road works, which seem to have gone on for ever, just the other side. It was almost as bad at the junction with , where the M25 bears left and I nearly always go straight on, and at the slip road off the M23. We arrived at the North Terminal feeling drained and rather tetchy with each other. It was, of course, 'all my fault,' for it had been me that had said no to travelling over the night before and spending the night in the Hilton or Copthorne hotel.
"See, now if we'd have come over last night we would have avoided all this," Kevin had said several times.
"For Christ's sake leave it, can't you?" I had snarled back. The lovely mood that had prevailed between us on the holiday romance we'd had in Crete had certainly vanished.
Luckily, the valet parking worked well and we were soon strolling across the terminal to the SAS Business Class check in. It was a nice luxury to have the use of their private lounge as we waited for the flight to Helsinki.
My e-mails and occasional phone calls with Angetta had continued building the relationship between us. We had discussed the Finnish outlook on life and their approach and attitudes towards sex in more detail. Quite frankly, the idea of such a sexually liberated way of living, not only excited and intrigued, but also really interested me, both sexually and intellectually.
I became so enthusiastic about what she told me that I even discussed it with Kevin. Now, my ex-husband as he now is, has a quick, alert and astute mind, but, not wishing to sound too arrogant, he isn't intellectually inclined. He thinks in straight lines and only really puts his mind to things of substantial interest to him. So, when I gushed on a bit about things Angetta had told me, his reaction was conditioned more by his dick that his brain.
Nevertheless, as we discussed our Finnish friends, we both became more agitated in our own ways.
"So if we go out and they want to wife swap?" He asked rather chauvinistically. "Would you?"
I tried explaining that what Ang was talking about was far more than wife swapping and it was more about a completely different view on sex in particular and life in general. His response, though, interesting, slightly amusing and completely typical of him, did little to encourage me that he was grasping the concept of a life-style freed from sexual stereotyping.
"So that means I could see you fucking another bloke, could I?"
There was no satisfactory answer to that, so I ignored it.
Sten and Angetta met us at the airport. It was as if we were meeting old friends rather than a couple we had met on holiday and had spent only a few days together. Kisses and hugs all round, lots of smiles and touching of arms and shoulders, it was nice and they both looked great.
Each of them is tall and slim and, in keeping with most of their compatriots, have blonde hair. Sten had had his cropped quite severely since Crete, but unlike on most English guys, it didn't make him look threatening, more academic, I thought. Angetta, as usual, looked a million dollars.
To my mind, the most appropriate word to describe her is statuesque. However, if one used that, it would probably be followed, by cool, sophisticated and drop dead sexy, but not necessarily in that order. Her face is probably slightly too austere to be considered classically beautiful, but she certainly is stunning, hellishly attractive and beguiling, I suppose. Her nose is quite pointed and a little on the large size, more like Princess Di or Sofia Lauren and her lips were a little too thin to give her that look of true beauty. Her mouth, though, is quite large, a little like Carly Simons'. However, what her looks lose from the lack of fullness of her lips, is more than made up for with the sexiness of her mouth. I could imagine that men, particularly Kevin, would at least fleetingly have fantasised about them being clamped firmly round their dick.
It's her eyes, though, that are her greatest appeal and make her looks so unforgettable. Sitting neatly on top of her high, angular and very prominent cheekbones are two huge pools of sheer, pale blue, horniness. I am sure that everyone, male or female, who meets her gaze, feels something; I certainly did and from the look on Kevin's face whenever he saw her, he did as well, and it wasn't hard to work out what he felt!
Her body is also good. She's taller than me, probably about five feet eight or nine, and much slimmer; I guessed around 130 to my 140 pounds. There's little spare flesh on her, but her bum has a generous covering, which gives her one of the sexiest wiggles and walks you could imagine. It was quite something in Crete to watch people's, men's and women's, heads as she walked past them her bottom slowly, but so clearly undulating from side to side. That looked fantastic in any clothing, but in one her tiny bikini bottoms it was indescribable. She's quite some contrast to me. My long, unruly no matter what I do to it, chestnut hair is in stark contrast to Ang's blondeness, my rounded, almost Rubenesque as Kevin calls it, body is quite the opposite to her statuesque slenderness and my boobs, well! Her breasts were pert and fuller when seen in a bikini, or even out of one come to that, than they appeared to be in a dress and she had long nipples that looked as if they were permanently hard, perhaps they were? However, my boobs, I felt rather ridiculously smugly, would have engulfed them: mmmm quite a nice thought.
We were soon out of the extremely modern, amazingly clean and ultra modern Vantua airport; it really did put Gatwick to shame, and were buzzing down a motorway in their Merc.
"It's only fifteen kilometres to town," Sten explained.
Everywhere looked so smart, modern and up-to-date; I was falling in love with Finland already.
"That's the top hotel in town," Angetta explained pointing out the Hotel Kamp, "And we live just round the back of it.
They showed us to our room in the apartment in what was clearly a very smart area of Helsinki.
"Would you like a rest or a bath or shower or anything after your journey?" Ang asked.
"No we're fine," I replied looking around the minimalist room.
