Skinny Dipping

Skinny Dipping

We are holidaying in Languedoc in the South West of France. Two glorious weeks of azure blue skies,
sun soaked days and sultry evenings accompanied by the constant chit chat of cicadas .

The rented villa is in a secluded location and is typically French . Gleaming white plastered walls with pale green shutters and tan roof tiles surrounded by fragrant lemon trees. At the rear of the villa miles and miles of gnarled vines laden with ripe fruit stretch as far as the eye can see. At the front, a curved drive leads down to a quiet road which winds down to a medieval village. In the pine needle strewn garden there are bougianvillea, fig trees and fresh herbs growing in abundance, lavender, rosemary and thyme, growing in abundance .If not partaking in a romantic meal at a local restaurant, under cloudless skies we barbeque local beef and lamb on glowing pine cone embers.
My companion is my dream woman. A tall graceful seductress with a cascading blonde mane, blue eyes and finely sculpted features, her skin as smooth as alabaster and the colour of caramel. She is salaciousness personified, uninhibited and lustful. I spend much of the time watching her swim gracefully in the pool. She seduces me with her early morning yoga routines, on our balcony, as she arches and bows her elegant supple limbs. She is my voluptuous wife, lover and confidant .

By the second week we’ve both completely relaxed and our only preoccupations are to decide whether we dine in or out, which book to read as we lounge by the pool and the best sun bed to bag while we concentrate on achieving the perfect tan .I’m also beginning to find the balmy nights, warm breezes and intoxicating Mediterranean fragrances are indulging my senses in ways I could never have dreamt of
before.

I’ve taken to rising early and this morning i sneak out to the pool while the others are asleep. .After checking i‘m alone i remove my blue paisley shorts and stand naked on the tiled edge. I take a deep breath and dive like an arrow into the swimming pool. The rush of cold water takes my breath away and i surface, sun glinting off the water- so much so i have to shield my eyes. I arch my back and tilt my head in the water, raking long fingers through my thick wet ebony hair. I kick my legs and begin to swim a few lengths of front crawl, my body begins to respond and my powerful arms cut arcs through the shimmering water.

After swimming ten lengths I lay on my back gazing up at the powder blue sky streaked with high cirrus clouds (mares tails), my flaccid member drifting to and fro in the tepid water. I close my eyes and dream a familiar forbidden dream where I imagine a shameless female voyeur is secretly observing me from afar.

A couple of days ago a car had driven down one of the parallel tracks running through the vineyard, the spluttering engine sounding close as it ground to a halt in a cloud of dust opposite the villa. From my vulnerable position nestled amongst the undergrowth, I heard doors slam and raised Gallic voices but I was unable to make out the two figures in any detail as I peered, naked, from my hide. For what seemed an eternity I crouched low, tense and skittish, my heart pounding until the labourers had gesticulated, smoked their Gauloises and driven off.

I grab the pool rim and lever my self up on to the side ,twist and sit naked for a while, my lightly stubbled face raised to the rays of an intense, morning sun. After a while I grab a thick beach towel and move to a secluded corner of the patio by the outside shower where I lay on my towel. Water droplets glistening on my firm muscular body. As I gaze down at my bronzed limbs I reflect how peculiar it is that our muscles look more exaggerated and well defined when we are tanned.

I feel relaxed but exhilarated as the sun dries me and lazily I move a hand over my chest and arms. Feeling the tiny blond hairs tingle as they stand on end. My right hand traces a familiar route down over my taut stomach, to my thighs, and as it nestles in my lap, I feel my own arousal begin to swell and stir.

Unexpectedly I hear a noise and I turn my head to see her appear from the house in black g string, her full breasts swaying as she walks, white beach towel and make up bag under one arm. She struts elegantly round the pool and I focus on her long tapered tanned legs as she saunters provocatively towards me, I fantasise that she has been secretly observing me for some time from the house.

She lays down next to me on a sun bed and squirts milky sun cream on her bare legs and breasts and unhurriedly begins to massage it into her bronzed silky skin with long seductive hand motions. From behind my mirrored sunglasses I watch her long manicured fingers caress her skin and realise my own arousal is escalating. Not completely dry, I sit up, a moist sheen still covering my bronzed body. As I move next to her, my erection inches from her face, I desperately want her to take my thickness in her mouth and feast on me and licking and sucking with her delicate pink tongue and mouth. She looks up at me and her rosebud lips brush the tip of my manhood, breathless I ask her if she would like to towel me dry.

Suddenly I’ m jolted awake! My wife is lying next to me reading. She asks me if I can go and fetch some croissants from the bakery in the village.
‘Oh and by the way, can you remember to put your shorts back on before you go.’she whispers. Her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.