Gail Surprises Rian

If you have not read our postings I’ll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. We are an early thirties couple, I am 5’10”, in reasonable shape. My wife Gail is an exceptionally beautiful and intelligent woman, soft spoken and very shy. She is 5’7” with a young girls figure, long shapely legs, small breasted, and a picture perfect behind. Her light brown hair blondes in the sun and she has the loveliest green eyes.

Hadrian @ All rights reserved

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All married couples must go through the same exploration phase. If they are already sexually active, and more importantly, satisfied with their sexual activity, the exploration is probably more risqué. At one point a few years ago, I decided to write about a sexual experience we had. Since then I have continued writing, mostly about our yearly holidays.

What I thought made our holidays worth writing about was that my wife experimented sexually, both with and without me. When I re-read the old stories it seems like a lot of activity. When I relate it to the rest of our day to day life, it’s but a teardrop in a stream.

We began this year’s holiday in August. First we flew from Santiago, Chile, to New York where we stayed overnight in lower Manhattan. The next day we met Gail’s cousin for coffee at Ferraro’s, a pastry shop in China Town that we came to know as students in New York. In the afternoon we made our way to JFK Airport, getting there early as was recommended. We boarded our plane for France two hours later, arriving in Nice in the morning to begin our 2002 holiday.

It was close to 10AM when we finally had our luggage, a mobile phone rental, and were loaded into a trim grey Opel rental that registered only 187 kilometers of use. We exited the airport driving toward Cannes without exchanging much comment; we were both tired and excited. Being back in France felt like coming home.

This year was special for us. Firstly, because we were meeting many friends during our stay and, we had a longer vacation. When my assignment for working in Chile was complete I was offered a promotion which extended my stay for at least three years. Gail and I talked it over and considered it a good growth opportunity and a chance to save Along with the promotion I picked up another two weeks of holiday time.

Last year, before we finished our holidays and left France, we visited our friend Tamara in Cannes. She is an elderly English lady whom we met on a previous vacation and she and my wife had become friends. After lunch that day we three casually strolled to the port area to visit Tamara’s friends living on a boat. She introduced us to a charming British couple, Duncan and Charlotte, and we visited with them for a quite a while. Tamara introduced us to Charlotte saying, “This is my Aphrodite… that girl I have told you about.” Obviously we, or Gail, had been a subject of conversation.

I recall the meeting so vividly, both the setting and the innuendo. I guessed Tamara’s friends to be in their forties and fifties, unmistakably proper British in their attire and in the relaxed courtesy we were provided.

It didn’t take long for me to notice that Duncan was completely smitten with Gail. Charlotte, his wife, moved around effortlessly serving us tea and then cool white wine, always with a smile and fixed gaze that made me feel she could see through me. She conveyed experience.

For a while Duncan and I sat apart from the girls, sipping a cool Compari and soda. We talked about Vicuna, an animal indigenous to my country and valued for their hair. As a retired clothier it was an interest he had played over in his mind for very many years. The three ladies were content conversing among themselves. Tamara was relating a story while Gail and Charlotte kept interrupting with smart comments, then all three laughing in unison. Gail was simply enchanting that day. It was hard for Duncan to keep from looking over to her, and every time Gail noticed his glance, she responded with a warm smile.

Before we left Duncan and Charlotte had invited us to stay with them on board their boat, when we visited France the next year. Of course we smiled and said “…that would be nice,” never imagining that it would happen. As we left I could see that Tamara was proud or maybe satisfied, that she had brought us together.

In the ensuing year Gail spoke by telephone to Tamara, discussing the invitation on many occasions. Tamara of course insisted that their invitation was genuine, and continued to insist we should stay on their boat when we were on holiday again. We finally agreed to call Duncan and Charlotte, to get a firsthand impression of their enthusiasm to have guests for almost three weeks. Gail spoke first and later swore to me that Charlotte was thrilled to have us. When I spoke to Duncan he didn’t even consider that we might not visit. He already had ideas as to where we could sail, and things we would do. Except for the last part of our holiday, when we would holiday with an Italian friend for a week, we would be aboard his yacht the SeaAyre

So, here we were driving toward Cannes with plans to stop by and say hello to Tamara, and then head to the SeaAyre where we would spend the next sixteen days as guests of Charlotte and Duncan. Our agreed upon arrangement was that we would keep to our personal schedule’s, planning in advance whatever we do jointly. As it turned out, we were together most of the time.

We parked the car as close to Tamara’s building as possible and asked the concierge to watch a suitcase that did not fit in the trunk. Tamara was thrilled to see us again, and in minutes she and Gail were chatting incessantly. What was to be a ten minute hello visit, took an hour. Just before we left Tamara called the boat to inform Charlotte that we would be right over.

Following Tamara’s directions to where the boat was now docked, we drove into the port and in moments we were alongside the SeaAyre. Duncan was on the deck and immediately called his greeting as I stepped out of the car. A young man came trotting down the gangway to help us unload the suitcases, and then he beckoned us to go on board, taking charge of the suitcases and parking the car.

Our reunion with Charlotte and Duncan felt like a natural extension of our many discussions by telephone the past two weeks. After ten minutes of hugs and chatter Charlotte showed us to our cabin, one level below.

We walked to the end of the hallway and Charlotte opened the double doors and stood to the side to allow Gail and me to pass. “Wow,” was what I actually exclaimed, when I stepped inside. Gail smiling broadly turned to look at Charlotte and said, “It’s absolutely lovely…, lovely.” Charlotte’s hint of a smile suggested she knew just how lovely it was.

The suite was U shaped, taking up the width of the boat, porthole windows exactly in the middle of the room on both sides. A huge bed on a dark wood bedstead was facing us, covered by a solid beige bedspread of raw silk. Dark patterned throw pillows were pilled at the head. Left and right of the bed were nightstands, after which there were dark wood paneled sliding doors that led to small en-suite rooms. The rooms had an office desk, a built in TV cabinet with drawers underneath, and a floor to ceiling closet for suits and coats. A small electronic safe was tucked into the rear left of the closet, just like a hotel.

The starboard side room became Gail’s side of the bed. The open sliding doors on her side led to the same size room, also with TV, drawers and closet. However, the other wall had mirrors, lights, and a wide stool, all perfectly placed in an authentic ladies makeup room grouping.

Gail and I browsed the room for a long time before we looked at Charlotte to thank her again, “It’s lovely, so refined, we’re going to love it Charlotte,” Gail said in her usual soft voice. Then she walked to Charlotte and kissed her cheek, thanking her. It was typical of Gail to be appreciative and I sensed that Charlotte was delighted with her show of enthusiasm. Obviously she was the decorator of this boat.

As soon as Charlotte left I looked toward Gail. She was leaning against the bed, her left hand resting on the covers. Smiling broadly, she leaned forward as if someone was listening, and in a half whisper said, “Isn’t this beautiful. I can’t believe that we have this…” and she raised both hands in a gesture to encompass the room, “for sixteen days, with Turkey or Sardinia thrown in.

The suite was air conditioned and had a full freshwater bath and shower, they didn’t spare the comfort. When Charlotte left us we proceeded to unpack, and shower. We drank gallons of Perrier and lazed about the room, not wanting to leave.

In the weeks preceding our visit I had spoken with Duncan many times. We were going to decide where we would sail on a short trip, and the choice was between Sardinia and Bodrum in Turkey. I too was thrilled with the accommodation, and felt certain that in spite of being at close quarters, we wouldn’t run into uncomfortable issues. Though we did not know them well, I rested comfortably with the thought that Tamara did.

Gail was ecstatic with the arrangement, her eyes glistened with exhilaration. I loved her look at that moment. I took two steps toward her and we hugged. “You know,” I said, “If we were to organize and pay for a holiday of this caliber and setting, it would cost…,” I paused, never finishing the thought, and we separated and began to unpack our three suitcases.

We placed our clothes in closets and drawers and piled our dirty clothes for laundering. “Let’s remember to ask where we take our dry cleaning,” Gail said. “Maybe we can get some things cleaned tomorrow morning.” Half dressed we moved through the cabin and Gail gave me instructions on what went into the different drawers.

Finished with my unpacking I took a map from the desk and sprawled across the middle of the bed. When Gail was finished she too climbed on the bed and reaching behind her back she unsnapped her brassiere and knelt beside me, facing my feet. Then she lifted her short slip and stretching her right leg over me, she sat on my lower stomach. ”Scratch my back please,” she said. I rubbed, and then softly scratched her back, in this oft occurring ritual that she loved, and ten minutes later we slept.

We were on deck in the late afternoon and we visited with Charlotte and Duncan sitting on the rear deck of the boat. I felt like Onasis, I wished I had a Cuban cigar. Charlotte informed us that nothing was planned for dinner, and she showed Gail the food pantry. Instead, we invited them to join us in driving to Juan le Pin, to a pizza place we knew and, Duncan accepted. Charlotte leaned forward from the rear of the car, touching my shoulder and Duncan’s at the same time, “You know Rian,” she said, “In seven years of living on the cote d azure Duncan has never driven for pizza. I am simply amazed that we are in this car.”

The next morning I arose very early, still on Chile time. Without showering I dressed and made my way out of the yacht basin and found a grocery store with still warm French bread and fresh chevre, Gail’s favorite breakfast. She was still sleeping when I returned so I closed myself into the study.

It was late morning when we ate our breakfast of bread and cheese while chatting. Gail was on the bed, cross legged, the patch of her ivory colored panties stretched tight, her small breasts hanging pert and beautiful, partially showing from the side. She looked so beautiful, un-pampered, hair slightly tousled. Gail noticed my studied gaze and smiled warmly, at ease with my appraisal.

I showered and left the cabin when Gail started her morning routine. Walking through the lounge I opened a doorway on the starboard side of the boat and stepped onto the port side deck. I was walking around the boat, facing forward. Just a few feet further a small metal door opened to a stairwell that led toward the wheelhouse, two levels above. Climbing the first few steps, I was now in a roofless corridor, between the wall that was the base of the wheelhouse, and a four foot high metal wall that looked out over the sun deck.

Looking toward the front of the boat was a sight to behold. I could see an array of yachts, with the city as a backdrop, and mountains beyond. On the boat, a railing completely encircled the sun deck, with white canvas hanging between the rails, affording almost total privacy. Four beach recliners were scattered across the deck, some chairs among them. I noted that the recliners all had the name of the boat on the canvas cushion in brown print. I heard a voice, speaking softly, and I looked down almost directly below me and a few feet to my right.

Sitting in a lounge chair turned sideways to me, half reclined, was Duncan. His eyes were closed, an open newspaper lay across his chest, his white terry robe was opened, and he wore nothing underneath. Charlotte was sitting sideways on the edge of his recliner. She was leaning over him, fully clothed. Her left hand was between his legs, beneath his balls, her right wrapped around the base of his penis. His penis was long and hard, curving inward toward his chest. Charlotte stretched across him for the dark bottle of sun cream that was on the recliner table beside him. She poured generously into her left hand and placed it it back between his legs. She was speaking softly but I couldn’t hear what was said.

Duncan had his eyes closed, both hands at his side, while Charlotte started to spread the oil around his balls and over the full length of his penis. I chuckled, almost audibly when I noticed that Duncan was completely shaven. Charlotte stopped for a moment and gazed to her right, leaning forward, then sideways, as if to see beyond the shiny brass air vent that blocked her view. Then she continued to play with her husband as I stepped back from the corridor wall and quietly retreated.

I retraced my steps, walking through the living area, and stepped out of the open doors on the rear deck. There were wicker chairs and side tables on both sides. I picked up a French newspaper and stumbled through my poor French trying to read the headlines. Minutes later Gail came out on deck and sat opposite me leaning over to re-buckle her sandals. She was bra-less and the view was inviting. I told her what I had just seen with Charlotte and Duncan and she laughed commenting, “I thought that they were supposed to be less active when they get…” she paused, “When they get more mature.”

I questioned, “Do you have any idea how old they are.”

Gail smiled and asked, “What do you think?” Her smile told me that she already knew.

“I’d say he was in his fifties and her her forties,” I said.

“Not quite,” Gail responded, “He’s sixty two and she is fifty one.”

I was surprised, “Did Tamara tell you?” Gail nodded, yes.

Gail continued, “Are you still planning to call Peter today?” Peter was an American friend we had made in France a couple of years ago. He now had an apartment in Monte Carlo where he lived part of the year. We had exchanged phone calls on a few occasions during the year, with plans to meet when we arrived in France. While in Chile Gail had reminded me, a few times, that I had agreed to call him. At first I thought it was her always courteous nature, later I started to wonder if there was another interest.

Answering Gail’s query, “I thought we should wait to see if Duncan had anything planned. Peter will surely want to meet. Don’t you think it would be better to have a grasp on our schedule?” Gail nodded again, her gaze centered upon a group of three men unloading a car and carrying grocery boxes on the boat next to ours. “What do you think about meeting with Peter again,” I asked.

Gail considered my question for a moment, and then answered. “We learned a lesson last time. Let’s make sure that whatever we do with them, you’ll control the planning.” Her response was typical of her generosity. She was wise and creative in her efforts to be non confrontational, sometimes to extreme.

Just then Charlotte stepped out from the living area on to the rear deck. Smiling broadly she said, “Well hello you two. We thought you’d be exhausted and want to rest for a while.”

Gail replied, “I think we’re too excited, though we may not last long this evening,” adding, “You know Charlotte, the room is so lovely, and I can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate it.”

Charlotte moved toward Gail’s chair and placed her hand on Gail’s shoulder. “Thank you, dear,” she replied, “We’ve been looking forward to your visit for months now. Duncan has been studying maps, calling all about. He had said to me, that we must make certain this is a memorable holiday for you. So you see, we’re just as excited as you are.”

Charlotte stepped between us and walked to a wicker chair on my right. She reached for the arms to drag the chair closer to where we were sitting. When she bent over her thin slacks tightened over her rear, gently shaping each cheek of her behind. A little larger then Gail, I thought, but shapely and with an appealing softness and movement. When her chair was nearer, she sat down. She looked at me and said, “I’m sorry about surprising you on the sun deck.” My quizzical look spoke my thoughts, so she continued, “Seeing me service my husband is not the best way to start.” She was looking directly into my eyes and I thought I sensed a flicker of mischief.

It took me some seconds before I understood her comment. “I’m sorry that I was there. I didn’t know you had seen me.” I paused adding, “Actually I thought it was a fine way to start, both the day and the trip. I was jealous.”

“Rian?” Gail shouted. I looked up; her finger was over her lips, indicating for me to keep quiet. She was noticeably bothered with my comment, and blushing, with the unmistakable insinuation, and my audacity.

Charlotte interjected, her broad smile setting the tone, “I’m glad you aren’t uncomfortable.”

I shook my head and mouthed, “No,” audibly adding, “Not at all,” I said, then added, “I mentioned it to Gail and she thought it was sweet,” Part truth part lie. Charlotte turned to Gail, smiled, and nodded, affirming that all was well.

’We don’t know if you have made any plans for the rest of the day,” Charlotte said. She was looking at Gail. “We’re going to a small bistro for dinner this evening, and we’d love for you to join us.” Gail responded, “Of course, we’ve nothing planned.”

”Ahh,” Charlotte sounded, “I’m going to a Spa tomorrow, for a facial and some pampering. It’s possible that Tamara may come as well. We’d be there for several hours tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to join.” Gail looked at me wondering if I would mind, I’m sure she was thinking of the cost, without saying anything I tried to look approving. Gail returned her gaze to Charlotte. “I’d love to, and I certainly could use it.”

Gail and I spent the rest of the afternoon walking through Cannes. I enjoyed both occasions when we stopped first for coffee and later we sat in a small creperie. Gail was wearing a Benetton shirt that perfectly showed her tiny breasts. Her short skirt was tight and when she sat without crossing her legs, it was a sight to behold. I saw men rush to get seats facing her, staring instead of eating, and even risking the wrath of their wives. Gail showed no interest, sometimes almost convincing me that she was unaware of the glances.

The next morning I went for bread and cheese. After eating I informed, “I’m going to look around for players, maybe drive to Antibes.” I said. “Do you want me to try to book for you too?” Gail responded while buttering her bread with chevre. “Yes, why not, we had fun when we played together in Monaco.”

I showered and shaved, donned khaki shorts and sandals, grabbed my passport, wallet, and our mobile phone, and made for the port parking area. Gail and Charlotte would visit Tamara this morning, have an early lunch, and then have their spa treatment. They would be back again in late afternoon. I planned on returning at four.