During an unforgettable vacation in southern Portugal, Marco and I stumbled upon a charming restaurant near the coast, that exuded romance and authenticity. As fate would have it, our table happened to be right next to a couple from Sweden named Sven and Elsa, and the evening quickly transformed into a lively conversation among the four of us.
As the night progressed, laughter filled the air, accompanied by the delightful clinks of our glasses. The wine flowed freely, enhancing the already flirtatious ambiance. The combination of excellent company, delectable food, and the coastal surroundings created a truly magical experience. It became increasingly apparent that both Marco and I were attracted to Elsa, while Sven, a large imposing man, also caught my attention. Though I allowed myself to fantasize about the evening taking a more intimate turn, I had no real expectations that it would.
With each passing moment and with a little help from the alcohol, we all found ourselves growing bolder in our flirting, engaging in playful touches and gesture. Someone proposed the idea of taking a short walk along the beach, and we all eagerly embraced the suggestion, relishing the gentle night breeze against our skin. Though there were a few other wanderers on the beach, their presence seemed insignificant in the enchanting atmosphere that surrounded us.
Under the luminous glow of the moon, the mesmerizing sea called out to us, its allure impossible to resist. Inspired by the moonlight, I impulsively suggested that we strip off our clothes and run naked into the waves, and to my surprise, everyone agreed. With each piece of clothing shed, a sense of liberation and carefree abandon embraced us. We swam out until we were just beyond our depth, allowing the powerful breaking waves to toss us around like playful paper boats. Holding hands to steady one another, our naked bodies intertwined and then floated apart as the waves surged around us. It was an adventure filled with laughter and joy, but also undeniably laced with an erotic undertone.
As we emerged from the sea, Marco fell onto the sandy beach, and I playfully collapsed on top of him, driven by my heightened arousal. Lost in the moment, I began kissing him passionately until he reminded me that we were not alone. Sven and Elsa playfully joked that we shouldn't stop on their account, and once again, the thought crossed my mind that our evening might lead to an exploration of shared desires and an intimate encounter between the two couples.
Walking back to our hotels, the mixture of anticipation and uncertainty danced within me. The lingering desire to explore more with Sven and Elsa ignited an inner fire. In my mind, I entertained the idea of inviting them to join us in our hotel room, knowing full well that this would never happen, given Marco's previous resistance to such encounters.
The thought of a threesome had often danced across my imagination, a forbidden desire that I yearned to explore again. I had been with other couples in the past, but Marco had consistently expressed his reservations, refusing to entertain the idea. It had become a point of frustration and unspoken tension between us.
To my surprise and excitement, Marco extended an invitation to Sven and Elsa to spend the following day together. We had already planned an adventure, taking a water taxi to an isolated sandbank off the coast. Marco described the idyllic location with its pristine deserted beaches to our companions who were enchanted by the idea. Sven and Elsa eagerly agreed to join us, curious and intrigued by our proposal. We set a meeting point at the marina for the following morning, ensuring they understood the secluded nature of our destination. They were advised to bring provisions and sunscreen, and playfully, Marco and I suggested they leave their swimming attire behind, as we would have the beach to ourselves.
Anticipating a day on a pristine beach, free from clothing, amidst azure waters alongside Sven and Elsa, exhilaration surged within me. Sleep eluded me as I envisioned the enthralling escapades that awaited us on this idyllic shore.
The following morning, the four of us gathered at the marina, basking in the warm sun. Elsa and I, both adorned in light summer dresses, exchanged excited glances as we boarded the small speed boat. The boat, just large enough to accommodate the four of us and our captain, promised an intimate adventure ahead. The sunlight danced on the crystal-clear waters as the boat roared to life, slicing through the waves. A lively breeze swept through, teasing our flowing dresses, and in an unexpected gust, our skirts were lifted high, revealing more than we had anticipated.
Chuckling mischievously and free from underwear, I found myself momentarily exposed. At first, I awkwardly attempted to prevent my skirt from continuing to blow up in the wind. However, embracing the carefree spirit of the day, I eventually let it fall loose, unashamedly revealing myself. After all, there was no need to hide in front of Sven and Elsa, who had already seen me naked the previous evening, and with whom we planned to cast off our unnecessary clothing and enjoy the beach au naturel as soon as we could anyway.
While the captain occasionally glanced my way, I paid little attention, undeterred by his gaze. In a particular moment, he turned to look at me three times in quick succession, growing increasingly frustrated each time as my skirt stubbornly remained below my knees. However, on his fourth turn, I mischievously raised my skirt myself, flashing him a devilish grin. Elsa and Sven found the situation amusing, but Marco seemed slightly embarrassed by my provocative attitude and my willingness to expose myself.
However, a twinge of concern tinged my excitement when I noticed Elsa wearing a swimsuit beneath her dress. A flicker of self-consciousness danced within me, realizing that I hadn't thought to pack a bikini for this excursion. Nevertheless, I reassured myself, believing Elsa's swimsuit to be a precautionary measure, one she would likely discard once we reached the secluded haven of our destination.
As we approached the sandbank, its pristine shores beckoned us under the golden sun. Stepping off the small speedboat and onto the sandy expanse, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirled within us. The wind whistled past, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea, momentarily sweeping our thoughts away.
Finding a spot sheltered by the protective dunes, Marco and I unfurled our towels, creating our makeshift haven for the day. The vibrant umbrella provided a welcome shade, casting a colorful pattern on the sun-kissed sand beneath our feet. It was a picture-perfect scene, yet an air of unease lingered.
Glancing at Elsa and Sven, I noticed they had shed their outer layers, revealing their swimwear. It became clear that they had no intention of undressing further. It struck me that last night's frivolity and nudity may only have been drink fueled and that they had no intention to repeat it now sober. We had presumed that as permissive Scandinavians they would cast of their clothes at the first opportunity, but apparently we were wrong.
