Chapter 2 -- Bittersweet dreams
The beach underwent a magical transformation at night. It was completely deserted -- the only sign of human activity was the faint and distant sound of Spanish Flamenco guitar coming from a tavern somewhere in the nearby town. It added flavour to the monotonous hissing of the waves. The moon hung full in the cloudless sky and illuminated the landscape with its pale blue light -- the sea glittered all the way to the horizon and the sand almost glowed with a silver tint. Occasionally, a refreshing gust of gentle breeze would stir the thick humid evening air. With the bustling multitudes retreated for the night, this part of the small Mediterranean island became a peaceful haven -- a place where one could be truly intimate. Especially in the secluded little bay Diana and I had discovered soon after our arrival on the island.
We would return to the charming cove every night -- sometimes we just enjoyed the beautiful scenery with a bottle of wine and endless chatter, other times we would take a dip in the warm sea, symbolically shedding the restraints of society by shedding our clothes. Invariably we ended the evenings by making love on the sand.
That evening began like any other -- after an intimate candle-lit dinner at the waterfront, Diana and I headed out to our spot. Having gone through a bottle of fine champagne at the restaurant, we were already feeling playful and wasted no time getting out of whatever little clothes we wore and plunging into the sea. The cool water was not very flattering to my manhood, but it sure made my wife a sight to behold (even more so than usual). Standing waist deep, tiny droplets of water trickled down her body, sparkling as they raced down her curves. Her breasts, crowned by her small erect nipples, quivered as she submerged into the water and then surfaced again. We giggled and splashed around, swimming around each other, pausing for the occasional hug, kiss or caress of one another's body. After a while we returned back to the shore. I walked behind my wife, admiring her amazing ass, which swayed sexily as she walked up to the point where our clothes lay crumpled in a pile.
With Diana's behind capturing my full attention and the poor lighting, it was no wonder I didn't immediately notice him. At first I only saw the dark silhouette, and then slowly the details came. It was a man, standing over our clothes, looking at us as we approached. Both of my wife and I stopped dead in our tracks. There was a moment, a very long moment, filled with tension, during which we examined each other, unsure how to handle this unwelcome intruder.
He was a giant of a man with immense physique. A good seven feet tall, he was laced with muscles. Standing menacingly with his feet at shoulder width apart, his tree-trunk arms crossed in front of his chest, he was eerily still. Shoulder length hair fell chaotically around his dark face, further masked by stubble. His piercing eyes closely examined us. Actually he only took interest in Diana. I could recognize the lust in the brute's gaze. I had seen it countless times before, but never so animalistic, never so primal and unrepressed.