This is a story about a married couple tentatively exploring their boundaries. If you choose to be offended by this genre, don't read this story.
*****
Cindy opened the French doors to step out onto the little apartment's balcony. The apartment was not right on the beach as Carl had promised. However; it was an easy walk to the center of Plakias, so it was not a problem to reach whatever shopping and night life that the little village could offer. More importantly, the apartment had a spectacular view of the Mediterranean across the narrow, road that wound along this portion of the southern coast of Crete. It was all theirs and only theirs for the summer.
Thanks to Carl's parents' willingness to assume the responsibility of watching over their grandchildren for the summer, they would enjoy a prolonged respite from the burden of parenthood for the first time in nearly two decades. This apartment would be her home and Carl's home base for the next few months while he traveled to various oil fields in Africa and the Middle East. Her husband would frequently be away for a week or two at a time, but they would also enjoy leisure time together during which they could fulfill her dream of touring Europe.
It was almost oppressively hot, but there was a breeze blowing from the blue waters of the Mediterranean that made the heat almost easy to bear. Cindy savored the sensual sensation of her dress billowing around her. The light weight fabric allowed the breeze to whisk away the sweat from her body.
The apartment was almost in the middle of the little town, so neither the road or the beach were deserted. Cindy had been surprised to see that some of the people on Crete, especially the younger men, were obviously African immigrants. Two such men were sitting at a table on a patio, right across the street one story below her, having drinks with two, rather mature, blonde haired, blue eyed, obviously nordic women.
The realization that the two African men were wearing skimpy, speedo style bathing suits provoked a blush from Cindy. Their suits conformed to the name "banana hammock" that Carl had once used. The skimpy speedo style suits displayed genitalia that were shockingly impressive.
The sight of the two African men sitting with the two European women reminded Cindy of the thought and conversation provoking, foreign movie "PARADISE: LOVE." She had been both fascinated and embarrassed by the movie when her husband took her to an obscure, specialty theatre to see it for a date night well over a year ago. Seeing that movie had inspired some exceptionally candid conversations about their past, present and future. She had confessed her unfulfilled desires and regrets about lost opportunities. Cindy was bemused by the thought that these two women were obviously getting their money's worth.
Cindy was shamed by the sensation of her panty becoming damp as her vagina began to lubricate in response to her thoughts. A respectable married woman should not be so easily aroused by fantasies inspired first by that movie and now by the sight of two younger, African men flaunting their formidable genitals. It didn't matter how handsome and well endowed the men were because she had a husband. It didn't matter that her husband had not been angry when she confessed that the movie had provoked her thoughts and desires as well as her self righteous indignation.
In spite of her shame, Cindy found herself appraising the Africans' female companions as if they were competition. The two ladies appeared to be about a decade older than she was. They were merely somewhat overweight rather than obese as the women in that movie had been. Cindy was shamed by the realization that she was perhaps a bit heavier than they were. The women actually looked rather attractive in their somewhat revealing bikinis.
Carl finished stowing their luggage then went to join his wife on the balcony. As he exited the double doors, the sight of Cindy standing in front of the sun revealed just how thin the white linen fabric of her dress was. He paused to admire the view. Not only was the silhouette of Cindy's muscular but well toned legs visible through the fabric, he could clearly see her white, bikini style panty. The fabric of the dress also clung intimately to the contours of her large breasts. Although the prospect of spending the summer in Crete had compelled Cindy to shop for a wardrobe that would be more appropriate to the weather, it was doubtful that she had realized that this dress would be so revealing. Carl had no intention of embarrassing her by bringing this to her attention.
Just as Carl was stepping out onto the patio, a gust of wind caught Cindy's dress, lifting the hem above her waist. Carl felt his penis swelling in response to the sight of her lush growth of dark blonde pubic hair that was visible through the sheer fabric of her bikini style panty. He had given her several panties of that style along with matching bras for her fortieth birthday a few years earlier. He had been elated by her willingness to wear the new lingerie that was so much sexier than the matronly styles that she had habitually favored during their child bearing years. He stifled a laugh as he watched his wife struggle to regain control of her errant dress.
Cindy was still contending with the hem of her dress when Carl joined her at the the balcony railing. Her distress became far more understandable when he noticed the group of two African men and their women companions sitting at the table. They were all looking up to observe Cindy's struggles with her errant dress. Carl yielded to the primal instinct to appraise Cindy's admirers as if they were potential adversaries. They were all younger than he was, leaner than he was, and far more muscular than he was. The menacing bulges in their speedo style swimsuits only exasperated his anxiety. However; the young African men were not adversaries. They were potential accomplices.
"It looks as if you've already gained some admires," Carl observed.
"It isn't funny," Cindy retorted. "The can see my panty."
"What is the big deal? You are wearing a panty so you aren't naked under your dress." Carl went on to embellish the truth, "your panty isn't much more revealing than a bikini. More importantly, we are ten-thousand miles away from home so your precious reputation is not in jeopardy."
Cindy didn't abandon her efforts to restrain the hem of her dress, but she became less frantic. The sensual sensation of the wind on her nearly naked sex felt deliciously wanton. She giggled, "it is a bit embarrassing because those men at the table are so obviously watching me."
"I guess Europe has its own problems with illegal immigrants that are even worse than we have back in the United States." Carl abandoned the political conversation to comment on their swimming attire. "Those guys must choose to wear speedo style swimsuits just to humiliate the local men and impress the lady tourists. It is a good thing that I packed some baggy trunks so I will not be embarrassed or embarrass you."
