My wife decides we should take full advantage of our summer holiday and expand our horizons.
This story includes elements of group sex, swapping, a bit of a loving wife (and a loving husband), what some people might regard as incest, a tad of exhibitionism, stranger sex, metric measurements, and British English punctuation. If any of those things are likely to upset you, please read no further. Incidentally, to avoid any confusion, it may be worth pointing out that the 'holiday' referred to in the title would be called a vacation in American.
Once upon a time I was really quite in love with my job but that was before it became an endless round of trying to meet almost impossible targets under the looming threat that lots of dynamic, ambitious young underlings would be more than happy to step into my shoes should I falter. The one thing that makes it bearable is that the company I work for owns a number of villas in Greece which the directors and other senior staff can use free of charge. On top of that, our boss, for all his other faults, takes the idea of holidays very seriously; he insists that we take our full five weeks annual holiday entitlement.
My wife, Ali, and I usually book one of the villas for a fortnight at the beginning of July. Being middle-aged and childless, it seems only fair to leave the school holiday dates for those with children. In any case, that suits us – the weather in July is just as good and Greece tends to be less crowded then.
A lot of my colleagues take the opportunity to invite friends and family to holiday with them. Not us, though. Maybe we're anti-social but we like to have the villa all to ourselves – not least because we enjoy being nude while we're away and having lots of uninhibited sex. Our favourite among the company's villas is one which is very secluded and has its own private pool, so we can get up to anything we feel like there.
The beach, of course, is a bit more limited. Like all beaches in Greece, it's open to the public and there's a public path running down to it round the edge of the villa's ground. Fortunately, as you can only reach the villa along a rough, unsigned track, we very rarely get disturbed there. In any case, the few people who do manage to find their way to the beach are usually looking for somewhere that's unfrequented enough to sunbathe and swim in the nude anyway, so that's not a problem. Likewise with the occasional yachts that anchor in the bay.
You can imagine then how I felt when, a few weeks before our holiday, Ali asked if her 19 year-old niece Katie could join us. That's 'ask' as Ali usually does when she's already decided something and made all the arrangements. 'Ask' as in 'Darling, you don't mind if...'
Now I have nothing against Katie – she's a pleasant enough girl even if, as an only child, she's been a bit spoiled – but three's a crowd and it meant waving goodbye to our usual freedom. Mind you, as I discovered later, it could have been much worse; it was very nearly the whole family – Katie, her mum Caroline (Ali's sister) and her dad John. Ali invited them all. John had been made redundant and was having problems finding another job. They were a bit hard up, especially with Katie being at university, so Ali thought that offering them a cheap holiday would be a kind, sisterly thing to do.
Fortunately, John's the kind of guy who regards that sort of invitation as unwelcome charity and he turned the idea down flat, for which I was mightily grateful. It wasn't that I was being overly selfish but there was a strong possibility that I might be changing jobs and I'd hoped that Ali and I could make the most of what might turn out to be our final idyllic holiday.
However, after a rough first year at university, Katie did not share her father's qualms. As it turned out though, she could only join us for the middle of our two weeks, which worked out rather well.
We were bound to be restricted in our activities once Katie arrived and we guessed that we'd also spend a fair bit of time sightseeing with her. With those things in mind, we made the most of the four days before Katie arrived and didn't venture out a lot – except on one notable occasion.
We'd spent an afternoon in the local town and ended the day with a meal in one of our favourite tavernas in the neighbouring village. Now, I should explain that going topless isn't a problem on most Greek beaches – indeed, in some places a bikini top is as rare as a dodo – but more discreet clothing is called for elsewhere. But there is discreet and discreet.
Ali has a wonderful pair of breasts: just large enough to make a good handful and tipped with hard, prominent nipples. They're perfect for going braless – firm enough not to sag but soft enough to sway a bit as she moves,. I can't tell you how much that gentle movement beneath a blouse or T-shirt excites me. For our day out she'd worn a bright summery dress that was decently opaque but if you looked closely it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra beneath it. At least, it was to me.
The effect was increased when we sat down to our evening meal. We were sitting side by side and Ali opened the top two buttons in the front of her dress so that, from my viewpoint, half of one of her breasts was exposed. Then, just in case that wasn't doing enough for me, she reached over to me with her hand and deposited her panties in my lap.
I knew full well what Ali was up to. At the villa we would have fucked three or four times during the day but on that day we'd missed out and Ali was determined to get me furiously worked up for when we got back to the villa.
It was just as well that we were sitting side by side behind the table, which helped to mask what Ali was doing. No-one was able to see when she raised the hem of her dress and slipped her hand between her legs. She worked it into her slit for a few moments so that, when she withdrew it, her fingers glistened with her wetness.
When we're eating out, we often order different starters and share them with each other and that was exactly what Ali did then – only she used the hand that had just been between her legs to take a piece of food from her plate and offer it to my mouth. Her fingers lingered long enough for me to taste her wetness and to lick it off.
Both of us noticed that a woman on a table opposite – she was in a party of three couples – was staring intently in our direction, as if she'd realised what was going on. Ali gave her a broad smile. A short while later, the woman got up from her table and went towards the rear of the dining area, clearly in search of the toilet. A moment or two afterwards, Ali followed her. When she returned, she opened her bag and showed me a pair of panties – and it was obvious who they belonged to.
'Ali! What on earth are you doing?'
The look on my face must have been incredulous. I didn't know what else to say.
'She asked me if we were really doing what she'd thought she'd seen. I told her that we were and I told her how excited it made you. I told her she should try it herself and I reached under her dress and pulled her panties down. I told her that, when she got back to her table, she should whisper in her husband's ear that she was naked under her dress. I told her how it made you as hard as a rock and that I was going to be very well fucked tonight.'
It certainly wasn't the first time that Ali had got me going by doing without any underwear. At the cinema or theatre, at dinner and drinks parties, and in sundry other public places, she regularly took great delight in whispering in my ear 'Guess what I've got on under my dress?' – the answer, of course, being 'nothing'. But this showed an altogether new side of her.
I glanced across at the woman whose panties were now tucked in Ali's bag. Judging by the blush on her partner's face, she had just whispered Ali's suggested words in his ear. He looked at her quizzically, and then I saw her take his hand and place it surreptitiously in her lap. From the looks on both their faces, there was no mistaking when his fingers confirmed the truth of what she'd whispered to him.
Needless to say, I was soon feeling very keen that we should finish our meal and get back to the villa for a spot of 'relaxation'. Before we left the taverna, Ali had to pop to the toilet again and I noticed that the other woman followed her, no doubt to update her on what had happened.
By the time they returned, I had paid the bill and was ready to leave. As we walked to the car, I asked Ali what the woman had said.
'Let's just say there are two people who are in for a very good night', she replied with a broad smile.
*****
The next day – the Tuesday – we spent most of the morning swimming and snorkelling in the clear water of the bay – nude, of course – and then settled down on the beach to get some sun. Although we were usually naked on the beach, we'd never fucked there, always heading back to the privacy of the villa if we felt the urge. Now, though, judging from the way Ali was playing with my cock and getting me marvellously erect, that seemed about to change.
However, just as things were building up, a charter yacht came round the headland into the bay and dropped anchor less than a hundred yards off shore. The young men and women it was carrying were soon diving into the water, most of them naked. A group of them, two men and two girls, swam for the shore – a dry bag containing towels and other bits and pieces in tow – and came out of the water at the far end of the beach.
