Time Stops in the Mediterranean Day 11

Day 11

It was my last day in the villa. Almost a week ago I had heard the letting agent saying to a departing family that the villa was empty for the week and so I had purloined the key and enjoyed free use of the villa ever since then; but what I did not know, had not discerned from the comment, was quite when, exactly, the week was up. It might be that I could actually 'borrow' the villa for yet another whole day but just as equally she might have meant the new occupants were arriving that very day; even quite early in the morning. Time to move and, hopefully, for the last time on the rapidly passing holiday.

You know how it is, how often men wake with an erection - the 'morning wood' as it is called - it may have something to do with the rather pleasant dream you have just been having or a simple matter of a desperate need to pee; anyway I woke up early to an iron hard erection and knew it was not going to 'go down' easily until I answered the call of nature but equally I could still recall that it had been a very good dream!

I lay there thinking about my dream, and where it might have lead to had I not woken up, whilst wanking gently as I thought about it and the fun I had enjoyed with the girls, Amy and Kylie, in that very bed the night before. It was a shame they had not stayed and so could have given them the benefit of my hardness but, sadly, they had not stayed. Equally it would have been a pity to waste the morning's ejaculation on a dream as there was plenty of real sex to be had out there in the morning sunshine so, instead of making a mess, I removed my hand and thought a swim down in the pool would be a good thing before breakfast; and an opportunity to show the sun what a 'big boy' I was that morning. Up I bounded from the bed, out onto the landing and down the stairs with my morning erection waving impressively in front of me - well I like to think it was impressive and it certainly felt that way!

It might also have been like that for the letting agent; certainly her face showed a look of surprise, indeed shock, as we came face to face on the stairs. Well, I say face to face but she being below and me above, it was more face to cock from her point of view! Or face to morning wood to be exact. Surprised? I should think so with a naked man suddenly before her with a rock solid penis. I was, of course, as surprised as she. It had not occurred to me she would do an inspection, least of all so early in the morning.

"What, who, what are you doing here... oh..." Her words automatic but then the greater realisation of my naked and aroused state. "Don't you touch me."

"Sorry," I said, backing a little up the stairs to reassure, "I didn't know you were here."

"What are you doing here and could you put some clothes on and cover that up."

Her eyes flicked to my cock again. Perhaps she was impressed after all! It is certainly the male belief that women are slightly awed by the male erection.

"I was just leaving actually; sorry. I just borrowed the villa for a few days; I haven't made a mess; it's a bit hot for clothes, you see - don't you agree?"

"No I certainly don't. Get yourself dressed; you shouldn't be here; get dressed and just go."

"Well if you put something on so will I."

"But I..."

Her reaction to the sudden discovery she was not wearing a stitch was rather amusing. I do not play pranks, as I have said, because I like my activities to be unnoticed but I was in a bit of a corner here. I suppose I could just have 'disappeared' leaving her to think she had just dreamt seeing me on the stairs or got dressed and hurried away whilst she tapped her foot, or even fucked her a little out of time before disappearing, but the sudden idea of her finding herself as naked as me and seeing her reaction caught hold. After all she was not exactly bad looking and worth the closer look.

Her hands went to the whiteness of her breasts and darkness of her pubic hair to hide them from me. Clearly naked sun bathing was not her thing. It almost looked as if she had a white bikini on if the large brown areolae and the glossy black curls between her thighs were ignored - and that was not easy to do.

I lent casually against the wall of the stairs, my erection still at attention. "Do you always inspect your villas naked? Must be fun stripping off as you walk in the door, wander around with you clip board feeling ever so free and, I am sure, having a quick naked dip in the pool. It is so much nicer swimming like that. I was just going to have a swim... care to join me?" I had to raise my voice for the last bit as she was already rushing away, no doubt seeking her clothes. She was not going to find them or my clothes or sheets or a towel. I had, out of time, cleared the villa of all possible covering and hidden them away just outside the villa. I'd quite enjoyed walking naked down the street looking for a hiding place, still looking impressive - not that anyone noticed of course.

As the letting agent ran around the house rather frantically looking for something to cover herself up I did take the opportunity of relieving the pressure on my bladder before slipping into the swimming pool.

Of course she came back. There was nothing else she could do. She could hardly run down the street naked and she had not even got her car keys anymore so a quick nip into her car wasn't even an option.

"Enjoy your exercise? Do you go for an early morning run usually? I'd love to see you pounding along the track - naked I assume. A very pretty sight if I may say so." I swum lazily looking up at her short body. She probably could run naked as her breasts were not very large and would not bounce around too much. It would be good to see a sheen of sweat on her nicely rounded buttocks and perhaps a dampness about her dark pubic hair just catching the sunlight.

"Where are my clothes? How did you do that? What do you want?"

What did I want? Well, as she was asking... no not yet. "I was about to make some coffee. Care to join me?"

I padded across the sunlit area around the pool and into the kitchen.

"I'm intrigued. Do you inspect the villas solo or do you bring a friend? It must be fun wandering around both naked - pleasantly cool. Is it a regular boyfriend or just a colleague - do you have sex whilst working, perhaps a few strokes in one room, a few in another, in the pool and then it is on to the next villa to repeat it all over again keeping yourself in a constant state of sexual arousal?"

She looked at me as if I was talking complete nonsense - which I was really.

"Sugar and milk? Perhaps no partner then, just some peaceful contemplative masturbation here and there; my own thought entirely. I usually have a wank after my coffee; it sets me up for the morning. Would you care to join me?"

The letting agent was open mouthed; quite bewildered at what she was hearing and what was going on and no doubt frightened too.

"You're going to rape me - please don't - I have a husband."

I put her coffee down. "Don't be silly. Whatever gave you that idea? I never said anything about sexual intercourse - I mean, I hardly know you! So, a husband. Do you inspect villas naked with him then? Must be nice doing that and having sex in so many different places. Do you sometimes walk about whilst having intercourse? It must be difficult climbing stairs. I'd like to see that."

I took a sip of coffee, before continuing.

"No, all I said was I like to have a wank about this time of a morning and I wondered if you would like to do the same. We can watch each other - which would be rather nice: but if you want to fuck, well, I suppose we could if you really want. It'd be a nice change from wanking; perhaps we can try walking around the house whilst..."

"You misunderstand - I don't want to; don't want to... have sex with you. Where are my clothes?"

"Where you left them I suppose. Do you need anything - oil, cucumber, hairbrush... I'm not too up on what girls need to wank. It's different isn't it?"

The letting agent was starting to understand.

"You want me to masturbate with you?"

"That'd be fun wouldn't it?"

"And then I can go?"

"Well, actually, you can go now, if you like, seems a shame, though, not to take the opportunity; lovely sunny day."

"But I haven't got any clothes on."

"It's much easier to masturbate like that and I'm sure one good orgasm and you will remember where you left your clothes. One good orgasm and you won't see me anymore."

My hand dropped to my cock and I began to stroke it. I'd done that many times before on the beach looking at girls out of time but just casually starting to do that with the letting agent feet from me was quite a different thing. Certainly she thought so and was open mouthed with surprise.

"I think," I said settling down upon a lounger and motioning for her to take the one opposite, "it is traditional for girls to start with the breasts and nipples."

It was dawning on her this was the only way out and perhaps, after all, she was finding the situation erotic. Perhaps she had an exhibitionist streak she did not realise was there, perhaps the idea of exposing her sex and masturbating as a stranger watched did turn her on; that would be a puzzle for her in the future. Would the situation be something she recalled when she masturbated alone, would her mind embellish the erotic fantasy perhaps with other men, indeed even a whole group watching as her fingers played. Would she relish the idea of all their penises becoming hard just because of her; imagining watching them all rise in response to her body and her playing fingers?

The letting agent settled herself down on the lounger and her hand touched her breasts. I smiled encouragingly and was pleased to see her eyes were actually watching my moving hand. She too began to play.

What was interesting was once she got going... she got going. There was more to this apparently slightly prim and proper woman than met the eye. My suspicion was that discovering the sexual aspect of her body as a young girl had been quite a revelation and masturbation had become somewhat of a hobby; perhaps she had graduated to a number of boyfriends before settling down with this husband who was probably not at all dissatisfied with what he found in his bedroom. Speculation; but interesting to build a premise on limited information.

Gradually her hands moved downwards to stroke her thighs and then, was it to tease me or her, her thighs opened and the flower of her sex came into view - not hidden in shadow but very clear in the bright Mediterranean sun. Her fingers stroked the inside of her thighs coming closer and closer - and she actually smiled at me as she touched her lips and let her fingers circle. My hand moved a little faster.

She bunched the fingers of her right hand together and brought them to her mouth and, slipped them in between her lips whilst staring at me. There was no question that she was not very deliberately miming fellatio in a quite erotic way - not least when she removed her fingers and licked slowly up them to their tips. "No touching - your rules!" she said.

Back down her body went the still bunched fingers and she lifted her bottom off the lounger to meet them as she pushed them into herself. I had to hand it to her; she was putting on quite a show and seemingly enjoying herself. Perhaps I should have suggested intercourse after all - or was it just the opportunity to exhibit she was enjoying? Certainly it was a good to watch but I would not have declined an invitation to join her.

From her vagina her wet fingers moved to 'diddle' her clit but her eyes kept to my hand stroking my cock. "I didn't expect," she said, "to like this but I find I'm almost coming... yes nearly. Go on, do what you said, let me see you come, empty those hairy balls, let's see your stuff fly! Oh, fuck, I'm nearly, nearly there!"

Certainly her fingers were moving fast and I let my own do the same. I stared at her fingers, and her sun drenched open sex and tipped myself over the edge and emptied myself across my tummy.

"Is that all?" she said and then clamped her thighs around her hand and screwed up her face in evident orgasm. Nice to see but as for her disparaging remarks: well, it is not easy keeping the seminal vessels topped up when you have as much sex as I do on holiday. It was not as if I had a week or month's worth saved up for her!

I was gone. One moment there: the next she was alone. Alone and naked, with a warm glow to her body and a very wet hand: but all alone. Strewn near the stairs were her clothes and, around her, a villa looking as neat and tidy as when she had left it a week ago. Her head went one way and then the other seeking for me but there was nothing to find; around the villa she went looking with a puzzled expression on her face; not even pausing to dress first. Had she perhaps come around to my way of thinking that it was best to inspect naked?

It had actually taken me about an hour out of time to bring the bed clothes back and tidy up whilst she lay there frozen in time at the moment of her climax and very erotic she had looked too. Not that I could take any advantage of that: having so recently come myself. My flaccid penis swinging unconcernedly as I worked, its little eye studiously examining the floor as if avoiding looking me in the face and getting on with its manly business.

She did not see me but that did not mean I was not there. It was just I was behind her or looking through a nearly closed door or from a cupboard.

It was just as she bent to pick up her clothes that my penis stirred and began to take interest again. Perhaps it was seeing those rounded buttocks straight on and taut, perhaps it was the vulnerability of a woman bending forwards with legs a little apart, perhaps it was the sunlight shining directly between her thighs starkly showing the curly black hairs silhouetted against the light, perhaps it was the sight of the pink still engorged lips and her little wrinkled bottom hole. Frozen in time she did not see me advancing upon her, out of time she did not feel the touch of my erection on her sex, out of time she did not feel the gentle grasp of my hands on her hips, out of time she did not feel the steady slide of a stranger's cock up the masturbation lubricated tunnel she so carefully kept for her husband; nor did she feel the touch of my thighs against her bottom cheeks as I reached full depth. I had, perhaps, said nothing about sexual intercourse but that did not mean it had not been on my mind all along.

It was tempting to restart time and enjoy her wriggling against me trying to free herself but it was more peaceful to simply enjoy her as she was - warm, soft, wet and compliant: just not moving. The sun was warm, the sky blue and there I was for the second time in an hour enjoying sexual activity with the letting agent: in and out, in and out, in and out - the rhythm of sexual intercourse steadily exciting me towards ejaculation. Normally I did not risk that unless the girl was already or about to be inseminated by another but, I reasoned, having come so recently all over my tummy when masturbating with her, the quantity of semen would be small – indeed much less than the limited show she had been so disparaging about - and hardly noticeable given she was already wet and about to put her panties on. She would probably attribute any extra wetness or stickiness to her own lubrication. After all, to her own mind my penis and its squirting eye had been nowhere near to her. The reality was, of course, rather different and that potentially squirting eye was deep inside her and perhaps already leaking a little bit.

A second ejaculation shortly after a first is always so much more electric and differently pleasurable from the first. It took a time coming but there was nothing wrong in that and come it did. I grimaced, screwed up my eyes and let go, holding my penis fully within her as the spasms came.

Restarting time she might feel something, the momentary feeling of indentation on her thighs caused by my holding hands, a momentary loss of balance as she would not be in quite the same position as before I had stopped time and of course there would be the feeling of a dilated vagina closing.

There are limited effects from out of time activity. If skin is pressed it stays pressed until time restarts but the feeling is momentary, if a vagina is penetrated it retains the shape of the invading penis until time restarts but then it closes. It is only the rather rougher handling which has more than a momentary feeling. My squeezing of Dave, the girl in the grey dress' boyfriend's balls a couple of days before had been a good example - the balls stayed squashed until time restarted when the clamp of my hand would cease to hold them but by then the effect would register - as it did. Squeezed balls hurt for a long time: a touch to buttocks, breasts, hips, sex even, does not persist.

Withdrawing I stepped backwards and restarted time. There was a momentary pause from the girl, an "ooh," but then she carried on picking up her panties, straightening and putting them on. There was no realisation on her part that she had just had sexual intercourse, that a penis other than her husband's had just invaded her and left a calling card: indeed, that a cuckoo had been in her nest. No idea that I was standing right behind her with a penis fresh from her sex, still wet from her and still dripping with what I had left within her.

Would she be extra kind to her husband that night after her strange experience? Had it all been just a day dream - of the morning? It would be interesting to find out but perhaps it was time to leave her alone and move on. Out of time I dressed, picked up my backpack, and quietly in time let myself out of the front door leaving one of the best holiday villas I had ever had. I would miss it.

I would have to be careful where I moved to; I could see the letting agent being rather more than careful in the future about empty villas and I did not really want her turning up complete with the heavy mob. Not that would really be a problem but I would rather avoid the difficulty. I would need to try and avoid any she was letting.

So there I was, homeless once more, a figure trudging the streets with a little backpack in sandals, shorts, hat and shirt with nowhere to call his own - a forlorn, sad, lonely figure walking, like Chaplin, up the long road into the distance: well not really!

I had three more nights on the island and it had not been often in the past that I could not find somewhere to stay and, frankly, a night on the beach was not really a problem. I could even sleep on the floor under Amy or Kylie's bed only it was a bit hard there and they might be a little surprised if they heard me snoring. There was no real reason why I could not sleep in a spare room at an occupied villa if I could find one. That would have the advantage of a very short walk before sleep after I had played the cuckoo to some sweet unsuspecting girl or couple but having the disadvantage of an early rise and quick departure. No leisurely coffee by the pool and a cooling dip - though I could probably always take a warming early 'dip' in the girl before departure!

What about a little flat complex each with its own little balcony overlooking the communal swimming pool? Being able to sit on my balcony and watch the comings and goings of the other occupants choosing whom to play games with; perhaps making the rounds if they were all young and nubile (well the girls anyway). The trouble was it is difficult to get into flats without someone opening the door.

The same cannot be said about hotel bedrooms - the keys tend to be hanging up in reception - and my footsteps eventually took me to a place I had stayed before. It was a hotel at the upper end of the market, rather removed with its own beach and grounds with a first class swimming pool and good but overpriced restaurant. Once upon a time it would have been a simple matter looking through a book or card index to find which rooms were free - if any - but computerisation has made this a lot more difficult particularly as computers do not work out of time. Finding a master key was comparatively easy (on the hook under the reception desk labelled 'master key') and, overcoming the computer difficulty, I was not over surprised to find after a bit of shuffling of paper that the staff had printed off an occupancy list which showed a few free rooms (the paperless office does not really exist and nor does the paperless hotel!).