Time Stops in the Mediterranean Day 05

Day 5

The girl with her white breasts crowned by soft brown nipples; soft brown nipples so unerect as to almost offend my sensibilities. Her boyfriend, maybe her husband, fair haired, tall with a wispy beard seemed to me to have failed in this respect. Surely something needed to be done? My attention had been drawn to them, on the beach, that morning. It was one of those quieter beaches where clothes are optional. They were sitting under an umbrella and her face attracted me immediately, round, almost Chinese - perhaps she had some Chinese blood - rather small upturned nose and a little rosebud mouth. She looked rather delicate and clearly unused to nude sunbathing given the contrast between the brown of her arms, legs and most everywhere except where she normally wore a bikini was startling. It was almost as if she was wearing a bikini only one with an attractive brown floral design at the top of both bikini cups and an unusual black vee design on the front of her apparently skimpy bikini bottoms.

The boyfriend/ husband said something to her and got up and made for the sea, his soft cock swinging unconcernedly in its nest of fair hair. Again I felt he was a failure. Surely as he touched the girl there should have been at least a twitch, a recognition of the girl's sexuality but abject flaccidity seemed to be all she inspired in him. Not in me, I had to roll onto my front to disguise my growing interest. The girl was making to follow him. Well, I had to have a closer look at those nipples. The eerie silence of stopped time dropped suddenly on the beach - well on me anyway as nobody else noticed - and I raised myself no longer concerned at the hard-on pointing across the sand. Of course erections happen on nudist beaches but etiquette is certainly not to walk quite so blatantly across to a stranger and certainly not to touch her in such an intimate way as I was going to do.

It is a funny feeling walking across the hot sand naked and erect, weaving between people, even when they are naked. I can't say I have done it other than out of time. It would be against my principles to do it as a sort of dare and then stop time so as to, from the watching people's perspective, disappear. It would draw attention to me and that is not something I am at all happy at doing. Softly and quietly is my approach. Nonetheless even though nobody could see me I did have a bit of a swagger!

Settling down next to the white breasted girl I followed her gaze but her boyfriend had not yet reached the sea, indeed might not do so for some time from my perspective; after all I had his girlfriend's soft brown nipples to stroke and suckle. The softness both in breast and nipple did not surprise me and a pleasure to suck. Out of time there was no way the muscular erectile response was going to happen; alas, no pleasant feeling of a hardening nipple on my tongue or the expectation of lubrication beginning to run 'down below.' My hand drifted lower towards the neat trimming of the girl's bush. It always seems to me a little amusing that the fashion for extensive trimming of female pubic hair, indeed sometimes its complete removal whilst appropriate to the bedroom looks less so on the nudist beach because it is so obviously sexual.

By trimming or shaving I don't mean just a little bikini trim but the very deliberate shaping: variations on the natural 'vee' shape, a strip even down to the 'Brazilian' or a postage stamp are fairly obviously not natural but trimming or waxing into a heart, apple or arrow shape pointing downwards? And what about the complete shave - seeing a girl looking at one level like a little girl but elsewhere a grown woman - a confusing picture!

This girl was simply trimmed and after the customary and pleasing stroking - as one might a cat - I opened her legs to see what is hidden, even on a nudist beach. The variety of pudenda always surprises me and this girl had labia minora like, well how might I describe it? Yes, the way butterflies' wings are closed when they are at rest, lovely soft pink flesh to stroke. Dry as a bone of course - the boyfriend's failure the more pronounced the more I investigated. What fun though, what an intimate act, to peel the two labia away from each other, to open the 'butterfly's wings' and see one above the other vagina, urethra, clitoris and clitoral hood. Gynaecological maybe, but my penis betrayed the sexuality of the experience.

All too dry of course; lubrication was needed and, out of time, her own was not going to flow. I could, of course, have used my own supply; indeed there before me was my own applicator. It would have been enjoyable to have wanked away and spurted my cream all along her cleft moistening it and allowing my fingers to liberally lubricate but that would largely have defeated the point of lubrication in the first place! What was needed was some sun tan oil. This couple did not seem to have any so I got up and wandered across the sand in search of some leaving the girl rather exposed. Another woman had been rummaging in a bag and had just found what I wanted - it was there in her hand. Borrowing it, I tested it was not empty by squeezing a generous spurt down her bottom crack - that would surprise her when I started time again! Naughty but she was bending over rather indiscreetly.

Maintaining control over time is important. It is rather like a sphincter - you do need to keep it tight, if you do not mind the allusion. There was I walking across the sand carrying someone else's sun oil and with a very obvious erection; one slip and I would be seen by the whole beach, including that particular woman who would suddenly find her hand empty; and, moreover, what of the girl finding herself lying in a completely different position with her legs open and showing everything to the beach not least to a, quite good looking, bloke walking towards her with an intent expression, a bottle of sunny lubricant in his hand and a cock looking like it meant business. You see the risk do you not? Long practice, though, meant my control was second nature.

Splurt went the bottle and a thin stream of oil played across her sex. I massaged, enjoying both sight of the now shiny 'butterfly' and feel as my fingers played. I glanced towards the sea where her boyfriend had still not got to the water. He had been delayed. I wondered at his seeming indifference to his girlfriend's sexuality. Had it been like that the night before? Had his wispy beard tickled the very sex I was now tickling, had his flaccid cock risen to the challenge, had the girl's pretty lips sucked and drawn the juice upwards or had it sunk into the vagina my fingers were now starting to enter? Somehow he annoyed me. It has always seemed a shame to me, well at least from the day I realised I had the power to stop time, that time is so frozen; it would be much more entertaining if there was a little crossover so whilst people remained frozen the effect of my sexual ministrations. they were felt; that the girl unfrozen would feel aroused from my fingering and look crossly to the sea where her useless and uninterested boyfriend was going to the sea and not to her or, indeed, catch them in bed and stimulate his penis, excite it far too much with my hand, so at the moment time restarted it just spurted, apparently spontaneously, and far too early for the girl and demonstrating what I thought of him!

Having made everything pleasingly slippery it seemed a shame not to try it out and, indeed, I did slip in as easily as anything. Delightful! Had the boyfriend been there and not down by the sea, I might well have been tempted to restart time just for a moment. "See, look, this is what a real man does!" But it would have given a very strange picture to the whole beach, and, realistically, there were not just adults present, plus, in any case, I do not unwisely draw attention to myself. I could not, though, let myself ejaculate. Finding herself suddenly wet was one thing: finding herself dripping seminal fluid was quite another. I got very close though!

The borrowed sun oil back in the woman's hand, the girl rearranged in her original position and me once more lying on my stomach to hide my now oily but still potent erection, I restarted time. The boyfriend reached the sea, the woman with the suntan oil suddenly had a surprised look on her face and the girl I had just been fucking rubbed her thighs together evidently feeling unexpected lubrication.

It was obvious to me that I was going to have to find out where they were staying and complete the act later. It just would not do to have got so close and not complete what the boyfriend seemed unable to start but that would be later in the holiday.

I had enjoyed that but really it was time to find a villa. Sleeping with Madame the night before had been rather a bonus but I did need somewhere to sleep. Seeking a new home might seem a bit irksome but it just requires a little time and patience and I rather enjoy the challenge. I get to see a lot of different places, some wonderful conversions, some lovely new builds and some, well; I do not choose those places! The trick is to judge when one is empty but I do not always get it right. Sometimes a villa is not empty but, even so, I get it very right. This was one such example. The villa looked to me unoccupied. Casually I slipped into some shadow and stopped time. I had a little more difficulty climbing into this one than many. It would not do for me to fall and break my leg out of time.

Over the wall and I started exploring. One of the difficulties of working out of time is you cannot rely on your hearing to tell you when people are about because there is no sound other than the sound you make. There are other tell tales than sound but more of occupancy than presence. Even so you turn a corner and there they are, or not, you cannot be sure. It is surprising, until you experience the silence of out-of-time, how much you rely on sound as a clue to what is happening around you. You catch people in sometimes very normal but sometimes very unusual situations.

Bondage seems such a funny hobby, even more surprising in the heat of the Mediterranean summer but there, right in front of me, was the evidence. Well, I say evidence but rather more than mere evidence; rather conclusive evidence in that she was rather tied up. Tied up to the bed and with a blindfold on; her partner not to be seen. I found him down in the kitchen getting some ice out of the 'fridge. This looked to be interesting.

I took my usual precaution of getting completely undressed, hiding my clothes and then myself before re-starting time. I waited in anticipation with every expectation of enjoying what followed. Tied up, gagged and blindfolded suggested to me the possibility of a little in time sex in my usual secret and undetected fashion. The girl I judged to be in her early thirties, perhaps mid thirties. Presumably traditional sex had jaded a little and they were trying a few new things. Well, good for them though, frankly, I think traditional sex is just fine.

Dressing up can be a part of the bondage game and I have to say the man's black leather suede briefs were something else! Certainly they gave him something to strain against when his bulge grew during the couple's play. The woman had very little on, apart from the four strips of cloth, ties apparently, holding her limbs securely to the bedposts. She was charmingly revealed and completely helpless. Oh, I forget to mention the two clothes pegs tightly holding her nipples - an unusual decoration - which I would have thought hurt and would hurt the more when removed. No doubt it was the warm weather but both bodies had a sheen of sweat. Perhaps they had been playing for some time.

En suite bathrooms can be a good place to hide. If they are visited by the people I am watching then I can easily stop time and slip past before I am caught. It is not quite invisibility but the effect is not far off it; though I do have to be out of sight when time is running. I awaited developments. There were footsteps and the man in his leather briefs (where did he get them - not Austin Reeds I am sure) entered with the bowl of ice.

I was certainly right about the released nipples hurting but evidently the ice soothed or otherwise pleased her because when he applied the ice to them she moaned a lot. He spent a long time doing that before he began to trail and ice cube down her chest and stomach towards her exposed sex. I found her wriggling most pleasing which seemed to become particularly pronounced when he began stroking the ice up her soft inner thighs.

It was clear he was enjoying his work as his suede briefs bulged impressively; it did rather look as if a few cubes of ice down his pants were rather needed to cool him. It did occur to me it would have been amusing to have stopped time and done just that. A few cubes strategically positioned just under the balls. He would certainly have jumped. But such pranks would have spoilt my fun later and disclosed all was not normal around them

Rather than the man jumping it was the girl's bottom leaping into the air, her legs propelling her pelvis into the air as the ice touched home. But the man did not stop and he continued to tease, or was it torment, the woman. Clearly no part of her genitalia was left untouched by the ice. There was a lot of melted water on the bed!

"I'll leave those to melt, you can just lie here and think about them melting, feel their coldness melting in your heat and then I may come back and fuck you."

I watched the man leave the room leaving the woman still tied to the bed with ice resting on her mons or something. An opportunity was presenting itself. A naked, exposed, blindfolded, attractive woman tied to a bed expecting a man to shortly return and fuck her? How easy would it be for a cuckoo to sneak in, believed to be the rightful man, and lay his eggs without detection? Out of time I walked over to the door and established the man was safely downstairs about to swim in the pool. I walked to the bed in real time. Not only was there a rapidly melting piece of ice on her mons but he had stuffed a piece in her vagina and another could just be seen in her arse. I have to say I was not sure I would like that myself.

She wriggled delightfully as I extracted the ice from her vagina. I could not resist applying it to her clit - by way of experiment you understand - I liked the way she jumped. Up on the bed I eased myself into her. I was surprised by the coolness, the residual effect of the ice was rather pleasing for me, but not by the wetness. She moaned a lot more and pushed herself against me. Pleasant to be fucking a moving woman, not that I mind my out of time experiences - they have their own rewards and I do not need to keep one ear out for the returning boyfriend, husband or girlfriend.

The usual dilemma of when I should come presented itself. Should I just let myself go and hope the man did not notice when he returned or await my turn when he rose off her? It was, though, very pleasant to be pushing against this keen woman. I paused time and went downstairs, naked and with my erection pleasantly lubricated from the woman, to check the man was still in the pool. He was. Back upstairs I got back in position and re-started time. I fucked enthusiastically. It really was so very pleasant that I did not want to stop and pushing deep within her I let myself go and spurted into her. Hoping she had not actually noticed I resumed the fucking for a few strokes before extracting myself still erect and plugged her once more with the largest of the remaining ice cubes. She was still writhing on the bed, clearly ready for more - which I rather imagined she was in line for when the man and his suede briefs returned.

Back in the bathroom I waited and it was not long before the man returned - without the briefs - and mounted her in just the same way as I had been doing. I watched the intercourse interested to hear what was said afterwards. He had more stamina it seemed, or rather staying power than me and kept at her a good ten minutes. It went on so long that I took a break and borrowed their swimming pool for a quick swim and actually missed the climax.

"I thought you'd come but then you seemed to have a second wind. I came and came, once with the ice and then... I was sure you'd come before you put the ice in again."

"Again? I was surprised it hadn't melted. It caught me unawares right on the end of my cock. Nice, though, touching that each time I thrust."

"My turn tomorrow."

Well, it seemed I had confused them sufficiently to once more play the cuckoo. Should I visit again tomorrow and see the man tied up. Would he be in his suede briefs and would she fill them with ice. It was an amusing image.

It was rather fortuitous really, shortly afterwards just walking down the road past a few more villas and overhearing a woman, who was obviously the letting agent, saying to a departing family that actually there was no one staying in that particular villa for the next week. It was only a few words overheard but it was enough and I had turned into a side alley, stopped time and been through the front door before it had been pulled shut. A quick survey showed the villa to be more than satisfactory for my requirements and usefully a back door key hanging on a hook. Easy to purloin knowing the agent would think the family had mistakenly walked off with it. Back out of the front door and into the alley I restarted time. I had secured a new base for a week just like that! It would be useful if the agent made ready for the next occupants that day as that would mean I could leave my stuff, not that there was much I did not usually carry with me, there for the whole week with no worry.

Happy in my new acquisition I walked on for a spot of lunch. You will by now have appreciated that it is not just sex I enjoy but I am quite partial to good food. Eating on your own in a restaurant could be less than ideal but I find a good paperback helps if there is no one to watch or overhear.

In the later afternoon I returned to my new villa and slipped in by the back door with my key. I was delighted to find a tidied villa with everything put back in its place and clean sheets on the beds. It was all made ready for the new occupants in a week's time and, of course, for me in the meantime. I stripped and slipped into the pool. The pool was what had particularly attracted me, apart from the fact of the week's vacancy, because it was unusually large and secluded. No windows from other villas overlooked it; there would be no one seeing someone swimming who should not be there; it was wonderfully private, which suited me completely. No need to worry about wearing clothes whilst in the villa.

After dinner, yes it was fish again, I thought it was about time to pay a visit on Amy and the dark haired daughter - I did not even know her name! An evening visit seemed the thing to do; would they share a room; might I catch them still with the electric light on lying virtually naked, or even naked, on top of their twin beds with their soft skin showing a sheen of sweat despite the effort of a fan. There was a great deal of fun I could have, out of time, with two naked girls in a bedroom. A close personal inspection would be first on the list. A running of fingers across soft skin, a plucking at nipples, a gentle lifting of knees and then a separation of thighs. It is surprising to the person who has not made the study how varied are the sights that greet someone interested in what girls keep between their thighs.

Would they be virgins? If so they would stay that way. I had to be careful in what I did; I liked my activities to be undetectable. There was always the hope they might be secret lovers, which would be so pleasant to watch - if possible - or at least freeze them in the act as an erotic tableau.