Portuguese Surprise

A previous story issued under the old name of NewForester...hope you enjoy a second reading, now under the name of Rockycoveboy!!

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It was hot and the only place to be was in the sea. Emma and her husband had been in the water for at least half an hour, and he had got quite randy as he watched his delicious wife frolic in the waves. She was wearing her tiny, sexy, turquoise bikini, and she looked incredible, her petite breasts straining at the material as she jumped up and down, her brown hair washing over her shoulders and back, as she swam.

Emma's husband moved up behind her and grabbed her waist from behind. He had seen other men and youths on the little beach ogling his wife as she wandered around and moved down to the water's edge, and he couldn't resist teasing her a little bit in the water. He slipped the fingers of one hand down the front waist-band of the bikini bottoms and quickly found Emma's clit. It was hard and begging for attention, and she didn't resist.

'You look and feel delicious, Emma, it's really great to see you relax and enjoy yourself,' and he rubbed quite firmly over the hard bud between her legs. She didn't answer immediately, but just enjoyed her body being touched in this most erotic manner. He knew just how to excite her, how to touch her to bring her sexuality to the surface, and she thought it felt even better in the sea.

Emma was a shy, coy woman and back in England, she wouldn't dream of showing any sign of wanton wickedness in public. Those on the shore could just see a man with his arms around his sexy woman in the water, giving her a cuddle in the hot climate, and they were just like any other couple on holiday. This was more, though. This was crucial. Lyall slipped a finger lower, felt her soft pubic hair, and slid between Emma's open lips and into the already wet cunt, Emma having opened her legs a fraction, hoping for just such an action. Christ, he had got her randy in about 30 seconds flat.

'Lyall, you...you mustn't...oh God, you ..no, no, not here. Take me back to the cottage and then you can make love to me, be naughty with m...,' and her voice tailed off.

'We're on holiday now, Emma, and you can relax, can't you? Just relax and forget about all your cares. You're so sexy and I want you to look really good while we enjoy this fabulous climate. You've still got the body of a teenager, you know,' and Lyall held his wife closely and continued to stroke her clit under the water.

' 'I said I would, didn't I...just,...just don't stop, please...don't...' and he continued to tease her and to play inside her body as the warm water lapped around their waists.

To celebrate a year of hard work for both of them, Emma and Lyall had decided to reward themselves with a relaxing holiday in the sun. They had chosen Portugal, only for the simple reason that they had never been there before, and the brochure looked so enticing.

The quiet, self contained cottage was in a group of six but they had complete privacy apart from a little pool which they all shared if they wanted. The cottage was a little stone building, with its own little courtyard, overhung and surrounded by beautiful trees and bushes, and it was so peaceful and serene. Inside, though, it was quite modern, two bedrooms, air conditioning with electric fans whirring overhead to keep the place cool, and an up to date kitchen. It had been tastefully modernised without losing its 'olde-worlde' character.

The cottages seemed miles from anywhere, apart from other local houses and tiny, road side shops, but Emma and Lyall had hired an open-top jeep as soon as they had arrived, so they were completely independent, and a shaky ride along bumpy roads took them to anywhere within half an hour.

They had been to two or three different beaches since they arrived, and enjoyed every one, but the nearest was only about a ten minute drive away, through the woods and along a bumpy track leading down to the little cove, and because it was not very big or well known, very often they were two of only a dozen or so people there. It had all they wanted, though, for a relaxing day, and they had enjoyed a saturating ride on a big rubber banana behind a speedboat, and had explored amongst the rocks when they felt like some exercise, or they had just lounged in the sea or on the soft sands.

Just back from the sea-shore, but still on the beach, was a little open-air café that sold beers, hamburgers, delicious local food, coffee, cokes, etc, and it had a huge awning with tables and chairs, and this was able to shade people from the hot sun as they had their snacks. So, Emma and her husband didn't have to leave the beach at all if they didn't want to. It was a wonderfully idyllic location.

The shapely woman from England was relaxed and really enjoying her holiday on the Iberian coast, and was doing her best to make sure her husband was also having a good time. She was an attractive woman, her slim, 5'6'' body really a sight that was lustily ogled at by locals and other holiday makers alike. Emma was 35, and had got married when she was 24 to a wonderful man who had been her childhood sweetheart since the age of 15. She had longish, brown hair, a superb figure with petite but shapely breasts, and a wonderful pair of legs that tapered down from a bottom that was oh so tight and seductive.

In her bikini, Emma gave off sexual vibes that excited Lyall to such an extent that his fantasies were sometimes unprintable. She didn't like to flash her figure about back in the UK, as she was a reserved and respectable woman, but now on holiday, Emma enjoyed wearing a nice bikini, so that she could get a good tan, and she loved to wear just shorts and T shirt for flopping about in the heat.

Lyall was excited, watching his wife's figure in her holiday clothes, as he was always telling her that she still had a stunning body, and Emma had agreed to let herself go a little, as no-one knew them in Portugal. They both agreed, however, that she wouldn't go topless, as no-one else was, and they didn't want to offend the local customs-God knows, armed police could be seen almost daily wandering about in the sun, and the last thing they wanted was to be arrested on holiday. Even in the full bikini, though, Emma's breasts looked wonderfully shapely in the bikini top, and her hard nipples were almost in a permanent state of arousal.

It was the Friday of the first week and they had driven in the jeep, down along the bendy, rough road through the trees, to the local beach once more, for another day of endless sea and relaxation. At lunch time, they were sitting under the awning enjoying a tasty lunch, washed down with gallons of soft drinks to quench an unending thirst. They had almost become 'regulars' at this little beach, and had got on speaking terms with the Portuguese family that seemed to own the place.

There was 'fat mamma' who seemed to spend all day resting on a hammock between two trees, sheltering from the sun, then there was the old man, in his fifties or sixties, who helped in the café but also hired out two or three canoes for paddles round the little harbour. There was Miguel, in his early twenties, who seemed to run the whole thing, and was for ever running up and down to the beach, tending his sun loungers for hire, or cooking the food or taking it to the tables, and there were other locals coming and going all the time and helping out when necessary.

It was a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere and Emma and her husband could sit under the awning for hours and hours if they wanted -no pressure at all, just idling and watching the activities going on in the harbour, on the water and on the beach.

They talked often with Miguel, whose English was almost perfect, told him about their holiday, and life back in England, and he was able to give them little tips about where to visit locally, or what sights to see during their stay. He was a nice young man, and he always treated his guests with respect and courtesy, but he wouldn't have failed to notice Emma's petite breasts peaking from her bikini top as they talked, nor her shapely, tight ass as she later sauntered down to the water for another swim.

'Where can you go to enjoy an evening out,' Lyall suddenly asked the young man. 'You know, dancing or something to eat. There doesn't seem anything at all without driving for about half an hour.' They had previously explained where they were staying and, stunningly peaceful though it was, the little garden restaurant/bars within walking distance all seemed to shut up shop about 10o'clock, and Emma and Lyall wanted at least one good night out while they were on holiday. Miguel smiled and said all the big night clubs were in the big resorts more than an hour away. He looked at the two tourists for a moment before he continued.

'Would you like to be my guests tomorrow night?' Emma and Lyall looked at one another in surprise before he continued. 'Just ten minutes walk from where you stay, there is a little private club which is only open on Saturday nights, for the locals only. It is private, not for tourists, and the local people who work all week long can go there and relax for a few hours. There is a little local dancing, you can eat if you wish, and of course you can have a drink. It sort of closes,' and here Miguel grinned, 'when the last person goes home.' The two holidaymakers didn't know what to say, and thought they had better show good manners to start with.

'That's really very kind of you, Miguel,' replied Lyall, 'but it is your club, isn't it, and we don't want to intrude on the local people who deserve a night on their own, so that they can relax without having tourists to worry about.'

'Nonsense, nonsense. You will be my guests, I will look after you, and it will not be a problem. I insist. I would like you to come, to be treated to some real Portuguese hospitality. You must say yes,' and his voice was very persuasive and appealing.

'Well, if you're sure you don't mind, and you're sure the other people there won't mind, we would be honoured, wouldn't we, Emma,' and Emma gave one of her wonderful smiles that could melt a statue. 'Where do we go, what sort of dress?'

Miguel explained that it didn't look like a club, and they had probably passed it by each day, but if they knocked at the big front door about 1030 in the evening, and asked for him, he would be there to show them in. The locals didn't bother to dress up properly, he said, they usually came just in shorts and T shirt, but they could wear whatever they wanted, and whatever they felt comfortable in. It was just a little club where they could relax, no pressure to leave by a certain time, enjoy a drink with the locals and even have a dance to the local music.

Actually, to Emma and Lyall, this sounded perfect for a night out—it was within walking distance, it stayed open late, and they could see real Portuguese life as it was, without having to endure English lager louts making fools of themselves all over the place. They thanked Miguel again for his kind invitation and promised to ask for him promptly at 1030 the following evening. They had another swim and finally drove back to the cottage about 8 in the evening.

That night, after a couple of bottles of wine in the peaceful courtyard, Lyall made love to his wife as she knelt on the edge of the bed. He stood behind Emma, and fucked her doggy style, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled the delicious, naked body onto him. He leant forward and pushed her head down onto the duvet, so her ass jutted up even more, and he pummelled into her with such force that Emma had a job to contain herself. Lyall then smacked her bottom, hard, as he continued to thrust into his wife, and then again, 'slap, slap, slap.' He could see that Emma was going up the stairs to a crescendo and took full advantage of her erotic state. He leant forward and grabbed her tits and began to pull hard as he fucked her.

'Are you looking forward to our night out, you randy bitch?'

'Yes, yes I am...oh, God, harder,... Lyall, harder, please.'

'I want you to look very sexy for me, Emma, you sexy tart. I want you to really dress up so that I can watch your sexy body as we enjoy ourselves with a dance or two,' and he thrust even harder into Emma's raging cunt, as she was almost there. She loved the dirty language when she was aroused, and Lyall was grasping her huge nipples as he kept thrusting his cock up into her, and she was moaning now with so much pleasure. 'Will you do that, Emma? Show your gorgeous figure off?'

'Ahhhhhhhh, I'm cuuuuuummmmmmmm, oh God ...yes, yes I will. I told you ...oh my Goddddddddd...I told you I would, didn't I...don't move, just...just stay in me like that, ohhhhhhhhh' and Emma shivered and shook as the climax took over her whole body, the tingling sensation spreading through all her nerves, until she slumped forward onto the bed, completely spent. The thought of an evening out with Lyall, where she could have a dance and relax, quite excited Emma.

The next morning, they drove to the local village to collect provisions for the next few days, milk, bottled water, some bread, fruit etc. It was another hot, August day, and Emma once more looked stunning and grabbed the local eyes. She wore a little pink top, strappy and tight, just reaching her belly button, tight denim shorts that she had rolled up to show off most of her thighs, flip-flops, and a baseball cap to keep the sun off her head.

She was braless and her wonderful breasts pushed at the pink material, the gentle breeze exciting her nipples as they drove along in the open-top jeep, and she and Lyall enjoyed an hour or two wandering around the little Saturday market, picking out groceries that they required to take back to the cottage. They had a coffee in one of the many kerb-side cafes and the young waiters tried to chat them up, always ogling the shapely body sitting in the sun, admiring the tanned tummy and stunning legs, and quaintly teasing in their broken English.

The rest of the day was spent at the little pool back at the cottage, having the occasional swim, sunbathing in the hot sun, only tempered by the gentle breeze, and generally relaxing They had decided to eat about 9o'clock at a little restaurant down the road, so that they could walk to Miguel's 'club' for ten-thirty as agreed. Lyall looked smart in slacks and an open-necked shirt, but when he saw his wife, he almost fell over with excitement. She looked absolutely stunning, and he wanted to fuck her there and then over the kitchen table, but he just about managed to resist.

Emma had put on a favourite little black dress that fitted her like a second skin, and now that she had got quite a tan from their first week in the sun, it accentuated her stunning figure beautifully. It had thin, little straps that held the garment over her brown shoulders, it was tight around her waist and bottom to show off her shapely hips and curved, tight ass, and it was only down to the middle of her thighs, so that her gorgeous legs could be seen in all their glory.

It was obvious that Emma wasn't wearing a bra, and the low cut top accentuated the shape of her petite and shapely breasts. The open toed, high-heeled sandals made her legs look even more shapely, and when she moved, the cheeks of her bottom swayed seductively against the tight material. It was just what Lyall had dreamed about, and he looked forward to an evening with his sexy, sensuous wife. Her make-up and subtle perfume rounded off the vision perfectly.

'Fantastic Emma, you look incredible, absolutely wonderful. Let's get going and have a nice meal at that place down the road.' His eyes glinted and Emma grinned back at him as she knew her appearance had turned him on straight away. She didn't often dress like this when they went out, but they were on holiday, time to relax a little, and Emma knew that her husband would appreciate the way she looked. Very soon they set off together for the 10 minute walk down the road to the little open air restaurant set in a garden, by the side of the bumpy road.

They had been there before and knew the food was delicious, and with a few drinks, and the stars starting to come out on this balmy evening, they both just felt at ease with the world and were glad that they had decided to take the plunge and come away to this wonderful resort, rather than stay at home in England doing decorating or going to B&Q in the rain.

Again, the local waiters and other diners couldn't fail to notice the attractive English woman in their midst. Her attire had captured all eyes as she had made her way across the rough grass to a table with her husband, and then all the waiters seemed to take it in turns to visit the table for the slightest reason, to get a close up of the shapely body in the chic dress. Even serving the food, they could see the wonderful thighs pressed together under the table, or they would try to look down Emma's dress to see if they could catch a glimpse of a hard nipple, but it was all in good fun, and Lyall became quite excited at the way others were ogling his wife.

The clock ticked round towards 1030, and, after a nice meal and a few drinks, and lots more smiles from the waiters, Emma and Lyall were ready to walk the few more yards to the place where they were to meet Miguel. It was a bit difficult for Emma on the dusty road in her heels, but very soon they arrived at the building set back from the road, and Lyall hammered on the big, front door.

They could hear voices chattering away, music playing and the smell of more food cooking. This was definitely the place, they thought. The door was opened by a Portuguese man in shorts, and when Lyall asked for Miguel, the doorman turned and shouted back behind him. In only a minute or so, Miguel appeared at the door, smiling from ear to ear and greeting the couple like long lost friends.

'Come in, come in. It's wonderful to see you, and I'm glad you came. Come in and have a seat.' He showed them inside and they were immediately in a huge room which had been made up just like a bar and eating room, with a small dance floor in the middle.

There was a little stage where an attractive, female dancer swayed to strumming guitar music from 3 men sitting on wooden chairs, there was a bar at the far end of the room, and there were people sat around at tables or at the bar, busily chatting and drinking. There must have been about fifty or sixty people there. The room was dimly lit, with just a few candle-lights on the walls, the floor was covered with beautiful old carpets and rugs, scattered about, and the furniture was not the best nor the newest. But at least the place was clean and lively and there were a few people up dancing. The room was very smoky, there were nick-knacks all over the walls and hung over the bar, and it truly was a traditional Portuguese establishment.

Miguel got Emma and her husband a drink and sat at a table with them for a while. They explained that they had already eaten and were just there to have a few drinks and a dance perhaps if they got in the mood, but they could all see that Emma's appearance had drawn the attention of most of the men in the room.

The few Portuguese women present were obviously attached to their men-folk and only dressed in modest Portuguese attire, but here was an English woman who looked smart and very fetching indeed, and drew glances from almost everywhere in the darkened room. The music played and the dancer was a buxom girl, covered in all sorts of jewellery and bangles, but very attractive, and every now and then people would join in and start clapping in time with the local music, and the atmosphere was one of complete relaxation.

Emma and Lyall watched from their table, enjoying their drinks, although the local Portuguese alcohol was somewhat different to what they were used to at home. Nevertheless, it was quite tasty and 'more..ish' and they bought another for Miguel before he drifted off to mingle with other friends. Lyall and Emma vaguely recognised some of the people there who they'd seen working on the beaches or in the local stores or restaurants, and this was obviously where all the locals congregated on a Saturday. They worked hard during the week, very often until late at night when the sun went down, and it wasn't surprising that they wanted to let their hair down and relax with a few beers every now and then.