Delightful Del Pt. 03

Part 3, Butterfly Cove

The week after my trip with Delilah and her children to the waterpark was one of the longest fucking weeks I've ever had to endure. It was almost like I was stuck in a time vortex. The workload at my job seemed to increase exponentially as we neared the deadline of a major construction and the pressure from the client was building. I spent my days in and out of meetings with clients and contractors, management and morons. The days were long enough as it was, but to have the lingering thought of getting to massage one of the sexiest women I had ever known, just made the week drag by.

It had been a while since I'd given a girl a massage but I was quite confident with the informal training I had been given a few years prior. Her name was Cari; a yoga instructor I had met through the social running group I was a part of. It was a motley collection of people that showed up every Saturday morning by the park on the lake to run circuits of a course set up by the club members.

Some people trained to reach personal goals and some just came along to socialise. I mainly did it to keep my fitness levels up after leaving the army, but I also wound up helping out others where I could.

The club was made up of people from almost every socio-economic background that you can imagine. There were teachers, mechanics, electricians, a couple of doctors of varying specialties, sales people, research scientists, a professional ballet dancer (with whom I'd had no luck flirting with when I met her) and almost every other job in between. There was even an old magistrate who ran with us every Saturday without fail.

On this particular Saturday there was a yoga teacher.

I didn't actually notice her when she arrived at the start of the session. She was introduced to me by the club president.

"Sean, I'd like you to meet Cari." He announced, walking towards me with her in tow. "She's the daughter of an old friend of mine and has just moved up from down south. I thought I'd introduce you since you seem to know quite a few people."

"Hey Cari," I said, and I shook her hand as she offered it to me. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too" she said with a wry smile. Her big green eyes were strikingly captivating.

I was actually surprised I didn't notice her when she had arrived. She didn't exactly stick out from the crowd, but she definitely had a certain energy and presence about her. She almost glowed. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a small ponytail but I could see that it hung in cute little curls, probably to just below her shoulder. A couple of stray ringlets framed her heart shaped face that was lightly peppered with small freckles, although still noticeable on her pale skin. Her lips were slight but not too thin and a subtle rose colour.

Tall and slender, she stood perhaps only a few inches shy of 6 feet, and whilst her bust was not overly prominent, she was shapely and proportionate. She had what I considered to be a very natural body. It was a refreshing change to all the immaculately sculpted figures I had seen at my local gym which, whilst pleasant to look at, still seemed a bit false and unnatural. I most certainly preferred toned to muscular.

Although her clothing was quite practical for running, it also complemented her quite well. The emerald green singlet brought out the green of her eyes and her coordinated running skirt really highlighted her long slender legs. Again, whilst not overly muscular, she was quite toned.

I also detected a slight accent but couldn't quite put my finger on it straight away. I was quite intrigued by it; a sexy accent was definitely a plus as far as I was concerned. There's nothing quite as sexy as a woman begging you to fuck her in her sexy foreign accent. Spanish is a particular favourite of mine. (Remind me to tell you about Gabrielle one day.)

We got talking on our run and discovered that we shared some common interests such as our fitness and health, as well as a love for hiking and the beach. She was quite intelligent and engaging, and after pressing her a bit, she revealed that she had actually trained formally as a physiotherapist but her work was less satisfying than she had thought. She had also trained as a yoga teacher as a means of paying her way through university but discovered that she quite enjoyed the natural aspects of yoga more than the work of her profession. Although she had only moved from overseas a couple of years ago, she had since established a respected trade combining the technical knowledge of physiotherapy with yoga as a means of preventive care. Massage, she informed me, was a critical aspect of the process.

"Your accent is quite interesting," I remarked as we arrived back at the club starting point. It had been bugging me throughout the run, but I was confident that I knew exactly where she was from.

We began walking straight to the water stand to get a drink. It was a warm morning and we were both sweating profusely.

"Can you pick it?" She enquired, coquettishly. "No man in this country has every guessed correctly." She added, partially raising an eyebrow.

"Ooh," I replied with mock insult, "That sounds like a challenge. Care to make it interesting?"

"Meaning?" She asked.

"Meaning that if I can correctly guess where you are from, you'll agree to go on a date with me." I answered.

"Ok, but if you're wrong...." She raised her hands to her shoulders, palms facing upwards, and shrugged, suggesting dire consequences if I wasn't correct.

I should perhaps explain that I am in no way a language expert. I just have a good ear for accents.

"Alright then," I said, and started to analyse her accent for her. "To start with, you definitely have the hint of the Northern American twang, but you're not American."

"That's a good start." She replied, and reached for a plastic cup from the trestle table already filled with water. "That's where most guys fail."

"And that's where I'll succeed," I thought to myself. I continued with my analysis.

"The thing that started to make it a bit clearer was when I really noticed was your pronunciation of the word 'start'. It had a bit of a rounded feel to it, very much like the Scottish."

She raised her eyebrow at me and a smirk escaped the corner of her mouth. I was definitely on the right track.

"But you're not Scottish."

Her grin widened. I knew I had this one in the bag.

"If I had a gun to my head, which in essence I do," I said with a grin, "I'd say you're from the Maritimes of Canada. My guess is that you're from Newfoundland."

She raised her eyebrow at me once more and smiled.

"Very impressive," she commented, flashing me a grin. "You win. I accept your invitation to dinner."

"I never mentioned dinner," I replied. "I said 'a date'. I have something much more fun in mind. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Ok, I'll meet you here tomorrow morning at 9am. Bring a bikini and a towel."

"Where are we going?" She enquired.

"A little place I know called Butterfly Cove." I replied, and winked at her.

There was no mistaking Cari when I turned into the parking area that morning.

She was wearing very short cut off denim shorts and a short white crocheted tank top revealed her toned midriff. A large floppy straw sun hat adorned her head, slightly shrouding her face. She presented an image of sophistication, style and class.

We drove to a secluded little beach not far from where I lived. I had heard about this beach through people I knew at work but I had never been to it myself. I just never had much opportunity or reason to go and I wasn't the kind of guy that frequented secluded beaches alone. That just seemed a bit creepy. From what I'd heard though, it was quite a beautiful beach and there was a good chance that it would be deserted.

We pulled into the car park and found a nice spot close to the track.

"It's only a short walk just beyond that small peninsular," I explained, pointing to an outcrop of land only a few hundred meters away. I followed the directions given to me by a work colleague and we began walking along the main path that led down to a major patrolled beach. At the first bend I noticed a smaller path heading off to the left away from the patrolled beach. This was definitely the path.

A small weather beaten sign warned of some indecipherable danger but it was apparent that many people had ignored it. The track was merely a thin beaten path through the dense scrub but it was the only one I could see. I stepped over the small log that had obviously been placed as a visual deterrent rather than a viable protective barrier across the thin path.

We had only been walking for a few minutes when the track began to widen and the path's solid foundation started giving way to soft golden sand. The vegetation was still quite dense but although we couldn't see the beach, we could hear the small rolling waves as they splashed up against the beach. We rounded a small bend and the beach magically unfolded before us. We both stood there for a moment and admired the scene.

It was spectacular.

The beach spread across a small bay nestled between two sizable outcrops of land, which stood as sentinels guarding the bay. At a slight angle from the prevailing [waves],

We had emerged towards one end of the beach.

We noticed quite quickly that we didn't have the beach to ourselves. About 100m to our left at the far northern end of the beach nestled up near the large protruding boulders was a sole sunbather. From where we stood, it was apparent that she was completely naked, although I couldn't see a great deal of detail. Cari looked back at me and smiled.

"So it's that type of beach, is it?" She enquired, smirking at me.

"Hey, I had no idea! This is my first time here," I exclaimed in my defence.

She giggled, quite unperturbed about the nudity on display and continued to walk out further onto the beach. We turned towards the opposite end of the beach where the larger of the two guarding outcrops met the golden sands of the beach. As with its northern counterpart, the outcrop blended gradually into the beach with large boulders interspersed amongst the sand.

As we approached this end we discovered that the rocks provided quite a lot of seclusion from the remainder of the beach. The nearby palm trees provided some light shade and, considering that we had to share the beach, I was quite happy when Cari suggested that we set up our towels here. It was still low tide so we made sure of setting up far back enough that the incoming tide wasn't going to be a problem.

Cari faced away from me as she produced her blue and white striped towel from her beach bag. She unfurled it in a single flick and bent forward at the waist to place the held end on the ground, affording me a spectacular view of her ass in her denim shorts. They were very short and her cheeks were clearly visible. I caught a hint of black as she leaned forward to flatten out her towel. I couldn't wait to see what she looked like in her bikini.

I followed and placed my towel adjacent to hers so that they were almost touching.

I had only worn a tank top with my board shorts, which I stripped off before reclining on my towel. Cari had finished laying out her towel by this stage and was standing at the end of it admiring the water.

"This is beautiful," she remarked. "The water looks amazing. It's so clear."

She peeled her top off and threw it down on her towel behind her without looking. A tiny black string bikini top barely covered her moderate breasts, and a faint hint of light pink areola was visible from the sides of the fabric. I was quite enchanted by the fact that the light smattering of freckles continued across her shoulders.

Her striptease continued as she then unbuttoned her pants and proceeded to wiggle out of them. I watched entranced as her firm ass framed in a skimpy black G-string bikini bottom was slowly revealed. She bent further and further down until her hands reached ankles affording me a spectacular view of her hairless outer pussy lips as the thin strip of black fabric vanished between them. She straightened up and allowed the shorts to fall to the ground, then kicked them on top of her top.

"I have to go in." She announced, and proceeded to walk to the water's edge still wearing her hat and sunglasses.

I simply watched entranced. I certainly hadn't been expecting her to be wearing such a revealing bikini on a first date. She was obviously very comfortable with her body.

She returned from the water a few minuted later having only immersed herself to her neck. The water dripped down her body. As she approached, I could see that her nipples were protruding slightly through the thin material of her top. Being black, it hadn't become translucent in the water, but that didn't lessen the sexiness of the garment. The entire bikini appeared to be at least one size too small. Her light pink areolas were still poking above the triangles of her bikini top and her bottoms were pressed tight against the outer lips of her pussy.

I offered her a drink as she approached and she accepted as she dropped to her towel. I admired her wet figure more closely as she rested on her knees facing me. Her bikini definitely looked very tight on her figure. Curiosity got the better of me and I casually enquired.

She looked down at herself and shrugged.

"I don't actually own any bikinis and I didn't have time to go shopping for one yesterday, so I had to borrow one from my housemate."

I must've had a very perplexed look on my face because she began to explain in more detail.

"I've never had a reason to own a bikini because I've mainly lived in very cold climates. I've never lived in such a warm climate before."

"But surely you've been to a beach before," I asked. "You must've had a swimsuit for those occasions."

She looked a little embarrassed, obviously reluctant to let out all the details.

"Well yes," she commenced, "I've been to beaches before but I haven't usually worn anything."

I was a little surprised. It's certainly not the type of comment I was expecting to hear, but she was alluding to being a nudist. Her blasé attitude to the naked woman at the other end of the beach started to make a little more sense. My mind moved quickly. If I played things right here, things could get very interesting.

"Well don't let me stop you. I certainly won't be offended if you want to get a bit more comfortable." I said, as reassuringly as possible.

She smiled at me a little sheepishly. "Ok, as long as you don't mind."

"I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable on our first date," I replied.

This date had suddenly taken an interesting turn.

She smiled at me as she reached back behind her and untied her bikini top. Keeping the neck strap tied, she lifted the top over her head revealing her amazing breasts. As I had suspected, her areolas were a rich pink colour that blended into her skin at the edges. Leaning back on her towel and raising her butt, she thumbed the sides of her bikini bottoms and slid them down her long slender legs and deposited them neatly on top of the bikini top, breathing a sigh of relief once she had completed her task.

She didn't have any noticeable tan lines, but that wasn't surprising since she was sporting the typical soft pale skin of someone from a colder climate. From my position next to her, I could see that she wasn't completely clean shaven. A small but thick patch of blonde hair adorned her pussy and ran down a little way before petering out along her outer lips.

Unfortunately, the small swim suit had left deep pink impressions on her skin, which she began to unconsciously rub. It must have been hurting her quite a bit for the whole trip. I raised my hand and gently touched a deep line that the bikini top had left on her back. It was quite noticeable to the touch.

"I bet that feels a lot better," I casually remarked.

"In more ways than one," she replied, turning her gaze to me.

I must have looked a little perplexed at her comment because she continued, elaborating on it.

"It was definitely too small for me, but the constriction was more than just physical." She turned onto her side to face me and continued her train of though. "My parents were quite liberal, as you can probably imagine, and I was raised in an environment where I was not made to feel embarrassed about my own nudity. The city where I grew up had a little old Asian bath house and my mother used to take me there quite often. It was this old but well maintained little place where you could go and use their saunas and these huge baths, and get massages, and everyone walked around naked, except for the staff. The baths are separated into men's and women's sections, so it's not like you're going to see men nude, but it gave me a good appreciation for the natural human form from an early age."

She stretched back on her towel and closed her eyes. "Now," she said, "I just feel so restricted and confined when I'm wearing clothes. Particularly in a place like this." She

She rolled back over towards me and continued. "Being naked is natural." She stated quite matter-of-factly, looking directly at me. "When did we, as humans, decide that nudity was bad?"

I couldn't argue with her logic and I wasn't about to try. If she wanted to be naked in front of me, I was perfectly fine with that.

"Are you suggesting that I join you?" I enquired as delicately as I could.

"I think that's entirely your choice," she replied. "You should be as comfortable as you want."

I lay back and undid the top of my shorts. As I undid my fly, my semi-erect cock was slowly revealed. Although she was wearing her sunglasses, I could tell that she was looking directly at it. As I removed my shorts completely, my cock flicked back onto my stomach. I saw her biting into her bottom lip as she stared at my manhood.

The cool breezed played across my body, gently caressing my balls. My cock twitched involuntarily and began to stiffen under her glaze.

"See?" She asked. "Don't you feel better?"

I nodded. Her voice had dropped a little in volume and tone. There was a slight husky resonance to it.

"And you certainly shouldn't be ashamed of your body," she continued. "You're very......masculine."

She was tracing a line with her fingernail up her opposite arm as she held onto her knee. I noticed too that her hips were writhing faintly. She looked my body over before finally resting on my eyes. With a small movement she slid over to my towel so that our hips were now touching. She removed her sunglasses, throwing them on the towel behind her and kissed me gently on the lips. It was soft and passionate, and I responded in kind.

As our mouths explored each other tenderly, she reached across and tenderly wrapped her fingers around my cock, now standing rigidly to attention. I was still resting back on both hands as I allowed her to pump my cock in a gentle motion. I grunted in appreciation. Her kissing became more vigorous and wanting.

I reached across and caressed her face as we kissed. I traced it down her neck and her chest towards her breasts. My fingers found a nipple and I tweaked it softly between forefinger and thumb. She broke off our kiss and moaned quietly. I kissed her cheek and worked my way down to her neck with small kisses. I kissed and suckled her delicate neckline as she moaned a little louder in appreciation. Her appreciation was reflected also in the increase in tempo with which she was stroking my rock hard cock.

I didn't want to waste any more time. She clearly wanted more, so I relinquished her nipple and traced my hand down her tight stomach to her shaven pussy. She spread her legs willingly to allow me access to her pussy. Her skin was so soft and I worked my hand along the lips and into her moist folds. She was very wet and I had no trouble running a slick finger along her opening and over her protruding clitoris.