Paradise Found

DISCLAIMER: The following account narrates the actions of a fallen man. I am highly principled in nature and you may be tempted to judge me for my deeds accounted herein and, in my loftier moments, I would no doubt agree with you. Yet if you do choose this course know that your actions must match your judgment for I deem hypocrisy to be the greatest of evils. Now you have been warned, join with me as I recount a real event, the memory of which never fails to astonish me.

It was a beautiful winter's day. My first experience of the Far North coast of Queensland was a succession of warm and brilliant mornings with just a hint of cool breeze tempering the heat of the sun. It was an island - Hinchinbrook I believe – where the resort is dwarfed by great stretches of forest and breathtaking beaches.

It was one such morning when the wildlife arose early and woke me from a deep sleep with a start. No longer able to sleep, I let the family remain and slipped quietly into my runners and shorts. The rainforest seemed to be calling me as I ran the hills leading to the secluded west of the island. As the canopy opened above and let the early morning light stream through, the warmth on my bare chest was exhilarating. I felt sensational and I ran with a new strength and vigour – but the humidity was taking its toll after 3o minutes or so and I looked for a path down to the beach, never far away.

I surfed a steep dune down to a remote and isolated beach, no more than 100 metres long. I started to reason with myself. I have no swimming costume with a pounding, glistening surf in front of me. I have just run through the forest for 30 minutes and passed no-one. So I ran to the far headland and looked to see a vast coastline with no indication of human existence whatsoever. For some of you this is a no-brainer. Who cares?

You need to know that I am quite a conservative guy. It takes a great deal of pluck to drop the shorts and go au naturale. But it wouldn't be much of a story if I hadn't, would it?

I can count the number of times I have skinny-dipped on one hand. After a few moments hesitation I reassured myself that the only audience I might have would be a couple of kangaroos and a croc, a not unknown inhabitant at Hinchinbrook.

So off went the runners and down with the strides, I am sprinting into the surf like an 8-year old. It was brilliant, just cool enough to exhilarate rather than chill. My warm, alive body hit the cool surf and I cavorted like an idiot for minutes until I found a quiet secluded rock pool and floated in the gentler surf. Just as I entered the world, there I was in the glory of my simplicity. A man at one with the elements, rising and falling with the ebbing tide.

After a while I started to think that it was a pity I could not have a companion to enjoy the freedom and exhilaration with. It was only moments later that I became aware of some movement on the shore. I looked around and could see a figure drawing near. By the hair streaming from beneath her hat I deduced that this was a woman. Or a girl. As she drew near I realised that it was a female in her mid to late 20s, that space in which she is unambiguously woman, the girl is fading and the far more complex and unimaginably mysterious maternal rumour appears.

I panicked. What to do? She must have come from inland rather than by the coast. I wasn't aware there was access across the island. As she crosses the beach, she sees my clothes lying neatly piled on the sand and she looks around. She stops and surveys the ocean – she perceives that invitation that had so seduced me earlier and heeds the call. She removes her sunglasses, hat and t-shirt to reveal a simple red-and-white bikini – not a conspicuous attention grabber, just an effortless sensuality that would have stirred me had I not been so full of dread.

She stepped, long-legged and agile, into the shallows and tested the water. Slowly she inched her way, raising her arms and jumping over the small breakers, her hair bobbing and being taken by the wind. Up until this moment I had not seen her face clearly but now I could see that her features were delicate and flawless. I tried to avoid eye contact and it seemed that she had not seen me, although I knew that she could not have ignored my presence.

By this stage, I had floated into a deeper area in the hope that my nakedness would not be exposed. You need to understand my concern as a man of discretion, whether you be such or not. I was petrified of being caught in flagrante delicto. There would have been a mere 5% excitement and a great deal more embarrassment, especially as I perceived there would have been a decade separating us in age!

Eventually she was close enough, despite my aversion, that it would have been absurd to ignore each other's presence. I waved meekly when she looked over and she called out "Hi". I'm naked and a beautiful woman is saying "Hi"! I instinctively cover my submerged privates although she is still too distant to see anything.

I try to brave it out and shout "Hello, it's a beautiful morning". Humans love the obvious.

"Yes, the water is beautiful – look at the sun shimmering on the waves."

I looked but only out of duty. The awkwardness of the moment destined that it was not a time for beauty but concealment.

"Where are you staying?" hoping desperately that it would not sound like a come on from a dirty old man. At this stage I am a father of three and this is most likely an unattached young woman. I want cool but my nervousness is only rising.

"I'm camping with some friends over on the lagoon. You?"

"I'm at the resort". Why didn't I say "with my family". Is there subconscious suppression here?

We chat about the standard of facilities and the natural grace of this island compared to the artificial opulence of the Whitsundays, when a slow realisation starts to dawn on her, at first as a suspicion, then as a reality. I think it had a lot to do with the staccato of my answers. Brief monosyllables to finish the conversation early.

I can only imagine that she must have considered either I was quite a rude and uncommunicative sort of bloke or that there was something very wrong. You need to understand that I could never feign indifference. I am anything but cold – so the only alternative ...

She blushes ... I see her look away and with a mixture of amusement and unbelief in her almond-shaped blue eyes she mutters "Oh my God!"

The games up. SHIT!

What can I do? I quickly blurt out an apology. Something about not having adequate and suitable clothing and in dire need of cooling after a run, but she's not buying. SHIT SHIT SHIT.

I desperately need an excuse or an out ... then she laughs. A beautiful laugh. A soulful and sincere, blessed and genuine expression of mirth. I think I'm glad. The truth it out and its OK. What now?

Here's the moment ... I still to this day can feel the disbelief as I look over and smiling knowingly, she removes her bikini top. The cool water has done its job and her erect nipples are the first view I receive. I pretend to avert my eyes but she gives me a disbelieving look. I look closer and I see the rounded mature breast of a woman who is fully grown but has not yet succumbed to the gravity of age. Nor has she the appearance of an artificially enhanced and plastic swelling porn star. This is natural woman at her peak ... and I am astounded.

The simple generosity of this act does not escape me ... so I say "Thank you" and she, with an amused and exaggerated gallantry, says "you're welcome". Yet there is a playfulness in her tone I detect and am confused by. She must be ....

No ... this can't be happening. She is ever slowly drawing nearer. She pretends to cavort in the waves and bounce well beyond what is necessary. Oh my God ... she is flirting with me. I can't believe it ... it has been so long since this scenario occurred that I almost missed it but she is definitely getting closer.

I am emboldened. I now realise that this is every man's fantasy and I am the star.

I take a few steps and, as the waves move about my body, my shrunken member starts to emerge from his slumber. I can't suppress my embarrassment but I can see that my friend has gone well past that sentiment. She is now unambiguous in her intent.

Looking straight into my eyes, she says: "What a wonderful start to the day!" and moves across so that she is now wading right in front of me – a metre separates us at best.

Judges sharpen your quills ... this is the moment you have been awaiting.

Yes ... I put out my hand and gently touched her shoulder. She needed no more invitation. I was subtle, she was voracious. She slid across and raised her arms, pulling me close and pushed her lips onto mine. She took a moment and stared into my eyes. This was a beautiful woman – a scatter of freckles on an otherwise flawless visage. A purity of skin with just a slight hint of tan. Her breasts swelled against my chest and I could feel her heart pounding against me. She went in again, this time expressively using her tongue to explore my lips and tongue.

By this stage I am at full attention. It is a great feeling in the water. A full erection ... blood swelling in the veins ... in cool water. I am now in the throes of delight passionately giving as good as I get. I hold her perfectly round breasts in my hand – a perfect handful – fits like a glove. It seems so right.

Then the moment comes where her hand explores my chest and then plunges to take hold of my now aching penis. It is as fit to burst as I have ever experienced. She starts to manipulate it, looking intently at me and then asks me to untie the strings of her bikini pants. I obey. I am entranced.

I instinctively drop under the water to observe the disarray I have caused and there before me is a beautiful shaped V, trimmed with a hint of opulence (as I like it). Her thighs are parted so I can see her labial swelling. She is as ready as I am – I rise to kiss her on the lips again, passionately nuzzling her neck and shoulders. Then I take a deep breath and descend again. This time I zero in and move my tongue along the outer lips of her groin, before thrusting my tongue at the increasingly apparent clitoris. I can feel her quiver with excitement so I rise only to get my breath and submerge again. My hands reach around and play with her tight and smooth butt cheeks, occasionally sliding my fingers into her now welcoming opening. There is a flurry of activity on the surface so I rush to find her calling out in desire.

She drags me towards the beach until we are waist height and she drops to her knees taking my rigid penis into her mouth and I desperately want to come. But I am convinced that the show is not over. Self-control is of the essence. Breathe George ... breathe son. Don't let the moment go to waste.

We rush to the shallows where she goes down all fours and says "Fuck me" in such a savage and abandoned way that I am astounded. I have never known a woman who has reacted like this to me.

I enter her and she is more than ready, squeezing her legs as they sink into the sand. I thrust slowly at first to draw out the act but she pleads with me to thrust harder until I have broken out in a sweat once again. She now thrusts back at me and we are in a perfect rhythm of wild arousal. I take her further onto the wet sand and turn her so I can now see her in her glory. She has a wide grin and is begging me to hurry back inside her because she is close now.

I lower my knees onto the sand before her and she raises her knees as I enter her again and within minutes we are rolling and writhing on the sand with no concern for our surroundings. I feel the vibrations in her vagina against my rock hard cock. She is now in a paroxysm and I let myself go pumping the warm result of our passion into her tremoring and gaping womanhood. We lie for minutes on the beach enjoying the spent waves brushing against us.

She rises and takes her bikini without replacing them. Walks onto the sand and takes the rest of her things and the last I saw of her is her perfect and lightly tanlined ass disappearing toward the lagoon, into the rainforest. I wanted to call out "what is your name?" but the moment has passed and I don't want to disturb its perfection. I dressed quickly and hastened back the way I had come.

We spent another week there and we swam at that beach at least another 3 times. I kept looking toward the shore with a yearning and fire. But I never saw her again. I wonder if she will read this and know who she enjoyed that morning with. Judge me as you will, it was not the last time I skinny-dipped but I have never had the same result.