Time Stops in the Mediterranean Day 09

Day 9

The ninth day of my holiday on an island in the Mediterranean proved to be a quiet one; mostly spent happily snorkelling around looking at fish. I really did leave girls alone for the better part of the day. It was not that I had become bored or jaded by over familiarity with the fair sex but after the previous day a bit of a rest was called for. Well, a short rest anyway!

Nudity is often enough erotic, but clothes obscuring the female form can be even more alluring. I know nothing of the male. I very much doubt my practical khaki shorts, sandals and variety of tee shirts particularly sets girls hearts racing or causes a creeping wetness between their thighs. It would be nice to think it did. But I cannot really imagine a passing couple of girls turning as one to watch my retreating bottom with one saying to the other, "I wouldn't mind fucking him," and the other replying, "me too." No, rather unlikely!

The eroticism of clothing came home very strongly to me as I watched a couple set off for dinner at some restaurant. Clearly freshly showered and changed into light, but a little smarter, clothes for the evening, they were walking hand in hand along a stretch of pavement. Long limbs help of course, as does a pleasing tan, a pretty face and long flowing fair hair but what really made it all work so well was the thin little, figure hugging dress the girl was wearing. Light grey in colour; it was one of those things that simply clung to the body. The way it moulded around her thigh as she stepped forward, the materially stretching across it as she walked, was exquisite both completely revealing the curved shape of her body and yet at the same time obscuring.

Deliciously seductive - it had me in a trice.

It was more than enough for me to quickly find somewhere to 'disappear,' hurry ahead of them and 'reappear' so I could watch the girl walk past again in that light grey dress. Not only did her thighs look fabulous in the dress but I noticed how well it moulded her small breasts, delightfully encasing their very hemispherical shape; indeed showing their shape perfectly without actually revealing them. She was, of course, bra-less. Indeed, I wondered as I watched her retreating bottom, again the dress pleasingly taut over her buttocks, whether she was wearing panties either. The dress seemed a second skin; absolutely charming - it suited her more than I could describe. Really I should have complimented her upon it but I resolved to do it in my own way later. It was difficult to imagine the boy would do other than make love to her before the evening was out and I would add my compliment to his shortly after. My interest in the fair sex was rekindled and burning brightly. Ensuring I was with them later, of course, meant following them and, as a result, I dined at the same restaurant. Alone at my table but that is not exactly unusual for me on holiday. It would have been very pleasing had they invited me to join them but that was not going to happen!

Rather than leaping straight in and finding out if my surmise was correct, I allowed my anticipation time to relish the prospect and it was only later as they sauntered back chatting that I allowed myself the liberty of close inspection. I was a little worried that back at where they were staying the dress might come off in one fluid movement and I did so want to feel her in the dress before then. I do appreciate my desires and actions are not what would be described as normal or appropriate in a civilised society. I do have misgivings and doubts at my actions on occasion but am pretty sure my desires are no different from most other men. Most men faced with the sight of this nubile young thing in that dress would have looked closely and certainly desired to touch and touch intimately. It is just that I can give action to the desire.

There they were caught in mid stride. Up close she was as lovely as I had noted both walking and in the restaurant and the dress as pretty and sheer as I had thought. I stood stroking it like one might do a cat. I really liked the material... and her bottom which was where I was stroking! I did not want to stretch the material so refrained from cupping my hand around a breast within the material and contented myself with feeling her through the thin material.

Egress to her sex, though, did not require a stretching of the material, though it was taut enough with her thigh pressing forward; I crouched and let my hand run slowly up the inside of a thigh and under the hem. Isn't it a lovely thing to do - slip a hand up a woman's smooth inner thigh? I am told by an older friend that younger generations do not fully appreciate this in the way his generation did. The slipping of a hand up a nylon clad thigh and knowing if you got as far as touching bare skin above the stocking top you were going to be permitted to go further. He suggested nothing topped the thrill of feeling that skin beneath your fingertips. Personally stockings and suspender belts has not been my 'thing' but I can understand what he was meaning. Certainly feeling upwards under this dress was exciting enough for me. Higher and higher my fingertips travelled, becoming more intimate until just the faintest touch of hair on my fingertips revealed my surmise about panties had been entirely accurate. Just a little further and my fingers were in amongst the hair and the soft folds of her sex. Not yet aroused and oily but I was reasonably sure that would come later. It would be very tiresome if the two of them just went to sleep.

What would have been best would have been if we had teamed up at the restaurant and they invited me back for a fuck or should I put it less crudely, for some tandem intercourse. Well actually what would have been really good would have been the opportunity to fuck her in that dress!

Following them, I imagined the three of us teamed up and turning toward the beach along a rather deserted track; the man and me slipping our shorts off and walking along in just our shirts, tackle swinging to the evident pleasure of the girl. She reaching to clasp and stroke, one cock in each hand, bringing us both to a stand and then we men taking it in turns to fuck her; just easing our equipment under the hem of that little dress and pushing upwards, no panties in the way, her arms wrapping around a neck, and legs coming up to encircle hips as the penis was pushed in. A few thrusts, a few more steps along the path and then the other man doing the same. A slow, but very long perambulatory shared intercourse in the warm night air. I wonder how far and how long such a walk could go? Delightfully different. The ever present thrill of the risk of discovery.

The girl could look so demur in that dress in a moment, the fact of her dripping sex safely hidden - only her perky hard nipples pushing at the thin grey material giving anything away: but for the man and me with cocks wet from the girl, perhaps even dripping a little pre-cum from the long period of coital excitement as we had walked in the night - what could we do to hide the prominence of our erections thrusting out from under our shirts? Hide in the bushes or brazen it out. Perhaps meeting two girls walking along; girls re-assured by the girl being with us but open mouthed at our display in the moonlight. Staring as our girl reaching around one of our necks and mounting with a casual, "We were just having a little moonlit fuck, you can watch if you like." Would they?

Or meeting a couple with really the same result but with a, "why don't you fuck as well?" Would the couple walk on shocked and offended by what they had seen or walk by with a smile and a cheery, "Have a nice one," or a, "Come here often?"

Perhaps, though, the new girl would slip her panties down or drop her shorts and pull out her friends already hard cock and we could all watch each other in the moonlight. Perhaps all of us then going down to the beach for a post coital naked swim in the moonlight. Five naked bodies running into the surf.

But I was not with the couple and probably they were not going for a walk and swim but back to where they were staying. My little moonlit dream, alas, not reality at all.

It does sometimes happen that when I am following someone the person gets wind of me. Perhaps it is a sixth sense. It happened with this couple. All of a sudden they had both stopped and were looking back at me. I hate that. I can't just stop time and disappear: it is against my principle of not drawing attention to me. So I just kept on walking and with a pleasant, 'Good evening' walked straight on past them and at the next corner turned out of their sight. Stopping time I doubled back worried they might have gone into somewhere or otherwise disappeared. I would have been very disappointed indeed.

I was very disappointed. They had vanished! I walked slowly back up the street to where they had been in puzzlement. How had they done that? Which villa had they gone into? And then, thankfully I espied a not quite closed door. A split second later in my stopping of time and the door would have closed - I would not have seen it! I pushed a little and was able to open it enough to get through. Reaching out in the darkness my hand felt the slinky material of the girl's dress. I had not lost them.

Carefully I closed the door to where it had been and moved the girl back a little so she was in virtually the same position she had been in before I forced my way in and past them. It would really not do for her to come out of time unbalanced and feel as if the door had suddenly kicked back at her. I felt her a little in the darkness and then squeezed past him looking for somewhere to hide. Any room would do. Time restarted; I heard the click of a switch and light flooded under the door.

"He can't really have been following us."

"He was in the restaurant and before - I remember the tee shirt. Crap design."

"Creepy!"

"Yeah, a real creep. It'll be that dress, you look so sexy in it. I bet it made him hard just to look at it."

"Does it make you hard?"

There was a pause probably for kissing. Was she feeling his shorts to find out?

"I've been like a rock all the way home. Best thing I've ever seen you wearing -- ever."

"Lucky then you weren't wearing the dress - your fat cock would have been visible like a radio mast! Perhaps he was following you wishing you were in the dress. Perhaps like me he wanted to suck your cock. No, let me..."

This was all going really well. There was silence again. It was time to take a peek out of time. A lovely little tableau. Girl kneeling and making the dress all taut - beautiful - and nor did I find the sight of her fingers extracting a very respectable cock from the man's flies unappealing. Not the cock but the action you understand. I think I should mention that I did not find the image of the man in the dress appealing at all with or without the erection.

It did occur to me as I removed my shorts and shirt - I could foresee it would be easier to have my own cock at the ready and indeed, on cue, it was bounding up as I unzipped - that it would actually be quite amusing, though heavy work, to clothe him in the dress and take the two of them down to a lonely track and watch them make their way back like that. A giggle to see them panic as she found herself naked and he erect in a dress. I could saunter along the path and see whether they still thought me unwelcome - or a creep - as I offered my shirt to hide his or her nakedness depending on who was by then in the dress.

Unfortunately there was nowhere in the villa's hall where I could reasonably hide and watch. The sight of a girl taking a man's cock daintily in her hand and bringing it to her lips is a sight I always relish. Perhaps there is a small pause as she looks at it: does she like what she sees; does the plum look too big for her mouth; is she thinking of the ejaculation in potential - the ability of the penis to fill her mouth with a viscous, salty liquid - does she relish the prospect or would she rather the penis was used to good effect in its proper place? Does she think, as so many women must, how good it would be to have two men: one to suck and one to fuck. Then the taking of the cock; does she just stick it in or flick her tongue out as if tasting it before trying?

The ways of first sucking a cock are varied and fascinating. Perhaps particularly pleasing is the girl tickling the limp item into erection with her tongue or it simply growing in the warmth of her mouth. But there was none of that for this couple. He was standing already.

It was unlikely ejaculation would happen in the hall; I was sure bed was in prospect and this was merely foreplay; but I didn't leave them at it for too long before I stopped time again and went to inspect. Still the lovely kneeling girl but this time her lips were stretched and encircling - a lovely sight - and one hand lightly holding his balls. How a man loves his balls being held -- lightly though. It is a matter of trust having his testes in the hand of a girl. Such a lovely feeling but she can so easily change all that. He takes a risk.

Taking hold of her head I gently drew it back so the man's cock slid out of her mouth and then moved her head a little to the side within reach of, yes, my own cock. I guided it into the recently vacated space all warm and wet plus a lovely soft tongue right along my fraenum. I began a delicious in and out movement feeling that slight rasp of her tongue right on the extra sensitive underside of my cock head. Nice - very nice.

"Nice cock," I said conversationally turning and looking at the man. But there was no answer. "Kind of you to share your girlfriend like this, very friendly -- particularly after what you said earlier. May I screw her later too? Oh thanks! I'd be careful, though, she doesn't squeeze too hard on your balls; that'll hurt you know." keeping up my rocking movement in his girlfriend's mouth I felt down and caught one of his testes between finger and thumb and squeezed. You will appreciate that whilst he could not feel anything now when time restarted his ball would indeed have been squeezed hard and he would feel it then. I patted the girl's hand cupping the man's balls, "Well I did warn him. You'll have to kiss them better."

I could feel a little drip of pre-cum slipping up my cock so I rested, savouring the feeling. Pulling out I slicked it off the end with my finger and lightly coated her tongue. A little symbol of my recent possession. Carefully I turned the girl's head back and pushed it forward onto the man's cock.

Back in my room I listened. A little bit of sucking sound and then, "Ow, fuck, you squeezed too hard. Bloody hell -- that hurt."

"I didn't."

"You fuckin' did."

"Sorry, Dave."

Further silence. Their equilibrium had been disturbed.

"I've never had anyone else's cock in my mouth you know, just you Dave. I love it so much. I love you so much."

Oh dear, mushy stuff but I smiled and almost audibly laughed. She was forgetting 'the creep' who had, very, very recently, also been in her mouth. Still, she did not actually know that. I bet Dave was the only one to have come inside her too. Well, that was about to change! Not that she would ever know. The Cuckoo was hovering near her nest and about to land.

What I did have to see was the girl taking that dress off. I suspected it would be an erotic sight of the first magnitude. I did not want to miss it so I kept stopping time and taking a peek. Clearly the girl either really enjoyed cock sucking or thought she should pleasure her man as long as he wanted as each time I peeked, she was still kneeling and orally connected.

Eventually the scene changed delightfully with the couple kissing but with Dave having raised the hem of her dress, slightly lop sided, and had one hand resting on a buttock. The dress looked fabulous like that - pity about the hand. Artistically I moved it and stood back. Pity my camera would not work out of time so instead I patted her buttock with my own hand. Smooth, very smooth.

Replacing Dave's hand I, reluctantly, went back to my hiding place.

"Dave, you go and have a quick swim to cool yourself down, whilst I go and take my dress off and then I'll join you."

You can guess who I followed... well actually I went ahead of the girl to check on the lie of the land. I needed a vantage point to see the dress coming off but there was nowhere obvious in the couple's bedroom. So I did go back down again and actually followed her up the stairs watching the dress alternately tighten across each buttock. The moulding was perfect. Fantastic. Yes I did it in real time but ready to stop time and 'disappear' at the slightest hint of her hearing me and turning around. She didn't and was completely unaware of the 'creep' literally creeping naked up the stairs behind her and with his erection pointing at her bottom! She didn't even bother to close the bedroom door and as she passed the double bed she paused and with a lovely fluid movement pulled the dress up and over her head and casually flung it aside onto the bed. The movement was fluid but I paused time at various stages to get a better look. Walking around her when her fair little curls were only just peeking out from under the hem; when it was just up to her tummy; and, once, with her face obscured inside the material, I actually stood to her front and let time move for a couple of seconds to see her dear little round breasts appear.

Naturally I had to be back behind her as she walked past the bed and then, delight of delights, she saw something on the floor and bent to pick it up; the muscles of her buttocks tightening, the wispy curls around her sex coming into view and, indeed, her little wrinkled bottom hole. Well, what a pleasing opportunity. I paused time and just walked forward and, without touching my cock, just slipped it between the crack of her legs and pulled backwards - just, you understand testing for wetness. A tell-tale shininess on the top of my cock betrayed her arousal. It seemed churlish not to take the opportunity a little further.

I held her hips and positioned the smooth rounded knob end of my cock at just the right place; its shape so suitable for what it was about to do. One little push and I was 'in,' the knob absorbed and seeking upwards. This particular position for intercourse does give the greatest potential for 'travel' and slowly I pushed inwards until my balls were resting against her, well yes, clitoris I supposed. It occurred to me that if I started time again there was very little she could do bent over like that. She would have been totally in my power if I held her back down, unable to do more than vocalise her distress as I had my way with her. The noise would however have been distracting and spoilt the enjoyment. It would also have been tiresome to have Dave thundering in and, as you will have appreciated, I do not like to cause distress or even be noticed and certainly not thumped about a lot by big Dave.

All the girl would actually notice would be a sudden dilation of her vagina and perhaps the fleeting feel of indentation on her hips as her skin restored it shape having been gripped by me. Probably she would put it down to sexual excitement. Had she been about to get into the pool I could probably have got away with fucking her to a conclusion before Dave. It would have amused me to have been there before him. In the dark they probably would not have seen the tell tale strands of semen seeping from her in the water especially if Dave then stuck his own cock into her whilst in the pool and added to the mess. As it was, with her walking to the bathroom, the sudden appearance of semen would not be something she could miss and so I contented myself with a pleasant series, well quite a long series, of strokes before pulling wetly out and settling myself in a darkened doorway with a view of the pool to watch.