A Trip to Greece Pt. 01

Author's note: The pandemic is over, but these letters to my wife continued. This story is a bit of a slow burn. There is lots of steamy sex, but I think the build up is even sexier. This may be fun to read as a couple.

A soft whirring sound and the smell of strong coffee woke me from a deep sleep. I could hear you shuffling items atop our dresser and rolled over to see you walking, completely nude, to my side of the bed carrying a white cup and saucer. Your skin was darkly tanned which accentuated the small triangular pale areas, or what I like to call, "the good bits."

The sunlight came creeping through the window and made it look like you were in a photoshoot with a photographer's assistant holding one of those giant silver discs to give you the perfect lighting. The pale triangle where your bikini bottom had been for the last week, was more pale than the fading triangles around your perfect breasts. This gave me great satisfaction as I thought of you laying topless on your towel covered lounger, sipping sangria not having a care in the world.

We had been in Greece for six fabulous days. Our hotel was not a resort, but had almost all the amenities of one. Two excellent restaurants, several bars, and a series of absolutely spectacular pools, including one that was exclusive to our room. "Our pool" as we liked to call it, had two chaise lounges and an infinity edge that made it feel like the water was flowing directly into the Mediterranean.

There was no drunken volleyball and sunburn this trip to waste a day. We savored each moment to the fullest. The hotel was in a small village filled with quaint shops, a small olive oil outfit and a vibrant fishing community which sold most of their catch to the local restaurants and hotels.

Our afternoons were spent wandering the streets looking for new places to eat, and chatting with the fishermen down by the water. There were lots of tourists around, but we tried to steer clear of the obvious spots.

Most mornings we started with naked coffee in bed. It had become a bit of a routine and I loved every minute of it. After twenty five years, I still get chills when I see your bod. Some days we actually had breakfast, but most of the time we just took to the city streets and wandered until we found something we wanted to try.

It was on one of these outings that we met Marco and Helen. They owned a small cafe off the main strip through town. We wandered onto the patio and had a few drinks one late afternoon. The cafe was quite small and we had the impression that our six drinks might have been keeping them afloat that day. As it turns out, we were quite wrong. It was our timing that gave us the false impression that sales were slow. The locals don't eat dinner until much later in the evening and we were there in between the late lunch and dinner rushes.

The entire patio was ours and we sipped sangria and talked about what we would like to do next. As we talked I couldn't stop marveling at how great you looked in your red floral sundress. Your skin was tanned and your hair was blowing gently from the sea breeze.

Because we had the patio to ourselves, our waiter gave us quite a bit of attention. He was incredibly handsome and definitely appeared to be overqualified to be a waiter. His shirt was crisp white linen and looked to be tailored. The only thing that said "waiter" about him was the neatly folded black apron he wore just over the belt of his tan chinos.

We had no particular plans for the afternoon and the patio was out of a postcard, so we ordered another round of drinks. He brought them over and asked us what we thought of the village? We both told him how beautiful everything was and about the breathtaking views from "our" pool. He asked which hotel we were in and smiled when we told him.

"I know that hotel very well. We operate one of the restaurants there."

He went on to tell us that he wasn't a waiter, rather he and his wife Helen owned the cafe as well as the restaurant in the hotel. Almost on cue, Helen walked out, kissed him on the cheek and asked us if he was bragging the yacht yet? She put her hand around his waist and introduced herself.

It wasn't just you who looked like a model in a photo shoot. Marco and Helen could have been on the Greek tourism website. Both of them were stunning and were obviously over the moon with each other.

We talked with them about the restaurant they operated at the hotel.  They both really wanted us to come by for dinner and have a couple of drinks with them.  We made plans to meet there in later in the week.

The next afternoon we found a little jewelry shop. It was owned by an older woman, probably in her eighties, who had a very classy vibe about her. Some of the things in her shop were for young girls taking their first trip abroad, while others were definitely aimed at the very wealthy.

We looked around for quite a while and talked with her about the village. She had lived there for the last thirty years after having moved from Paris. She told us that she came here for a week long vacation and never left. She had all of her things packed and shipped here because she had never seen a place so beautiful.

You looked at, and returned to a necklace and earring set several times. They were somewhere between the young girl and heiress sections, and while you were holding the earrings up to your ear, I caught the owner's eye and we exchanged a nod that implied I would be back later. We thanked her for her time, strolled back into the street to look for somewhere to have lunch.

We ended up down by the boat launch and ate lunch as the fisherman brought their catches in from the morning. The boats were relatively small and the men working them looked weathered. The fish you were eating for lunch had only been on dry land for ten minutes before it was prepared for you.

After lunch we went back to the hotel for a swim. You went into the room to change while I sat on one of the loungers and opened a cold beer. When I heard the door open, I turned my head to see you strutting toward the pool wearing the stingiest string bikini I have ever seen. From what I could tell it consisted of three tiny triangles of black fabric and enough string to hold everything together...barely!

Your body in that bathing suit was an absolute thing of beauty. The tiny, and I mean tiny, triangles couldn't have covered more than a quarter inch of skin beyond your nipples,

and if you hadn't completely shaved, the bottom triangle would have shown it.

"I did a little online shopping before we left" you said as you turned around to show me the thong back. "I read an article about this company called Wicked Weasel and thought you might appreciate the design."

You looked absolutely stunning and you knew it. As you strode into the warm water, the reflection of the sunlight lit up your face and highlighted your tan skin. You dove under, came up with your hair slicked back and did your best Phoebe Cates as you climbed up the ladder and out of the pool.

I could hear the beginning of "Moving in Stereo" as you walked across the deck and over to the lounger. The sun was so bright and warm that you hardly needed to use the towel at all. You laid back in the lounger and looked coyly over to me and asked if I appreciated the design?

We didn't last too long outside...

The next afternoon we split up for a couple hours and agreed to meet up for dinner. I found a dirty dive bar that had the F1 qualifying on and was happy as a clam. You said you just wanted to stroll around and see if you could find a dress to wear for our dinner. When we kissed goodbye, I told you to go bold.

"How many chances are we going to get to have dinner with the crazy hot Greeks?"

When we met up at 6:00 you had a devilish grin and gave me a big kiss.

"I'm not sure I have ever seen that look before."

You couldn't stop smiling and told me that you took my advice and went as bold as you possibly could and that I would be very happy with your purchases.

We had a lovely dinner, but my mind was racing throughout the whole meal. I wondered how bold you had gone? No matter how many times I asked for a fashion show, you just smiled and told me I would have to wait and see tomorrow.

It was me who made the coffee the next morning. I walked over to your side of the bed with your cup and took in the incredible sight of your tanned, naked bod twisted in the sheets. Your eyes were closed but you were pretending to be asleep. When I set the cup on the bedside table, you purred in a sexy, sleepy voice "Is is morning already Marco?"

We both laughed and I jumped into bed with you. We took turns grabbing each other's bums and planned out our day. You weren't surprised to hear that I wanted to head back to my dive bar to watch the race and told me that you wanted to take it easy and sit by the pool.

I decided to dress up for dinner before I went to the bar. I would definitely be overdressed for the racing crowd, but that way you could take your time and get ready without me pawing at you the whole time. Before I left, I discretely placed a box with the necklace and earrings by the bathroom sink.

My afternoon was fairly uneventful. The race was exciting, but not nearly as exciting as the thought of you laying topless by the pool, showering and getting into your new dress.

When it was finally time to "pick you up," I knocked on the door and anxiously awaited the big reveal.

The door swung open and my jaw hit the floor. You stood in front of me looking like I have never seen you. It was magnificent! You were wearing the jewelry and it looked fantastic on you.

You spun around to give me the whole view and asked "You like the design?"

The dress was supported by two thin straps that went over your neck and crisscrossed all over your back.  It looked like it required an instruction manual to figure out how to put it on.  This was definitely not the kind of dress worn anywhere back home.  Your tanned skin looked incredible against the silky black material. 

Words were hard to come by, but I finally got out a "Yes."

It was a good idea that we got ready separately as there was no way I could have kept my hands to myself. I reached my hand around the silky waist and pulled you close. We kissed and you slipped me a little tongue. My immediate thoughts were to bail on dinner and take you right to bed!

You convinced me that wasn't an option and wiped the bright red lipstick off my lips.

Several heads turned as we walked through the lobby and up to the restaurant. The hostess gave us a smile when she heard our names and told us we would be sitting in the owner's booth. We followed her toward the back of the darkly lit restaurant. More heads turned as we made our way to the back corner.

We ordered drinks and sat in the middle of a "u" shaped booth. From our seats we could see almost every table in the place. It's no wonder why this was the owner's table. They could sit here and oversee their domain.

Midway through our first drinks, Marco and Helen strolled in past the hostess stand. You weren't the only one who could turn heads with an entrance. Both of them had wide, beaming smiles as they made their way between the tables.

They were equal opportunity stunners as both men and women craned their necks to get a look at the couple sauntering toward us. When they arrived at our table, they both looked excited to see us and sat down.

We didn't really think about seating when we sat down in the middle of the booth, so there was really no other way for them to sit. Marco sat beside you and Helen was next to me.

Helen apologized for being late as a drink appeared in her hand. Marco told us that it was his fault and raised his newly acquired glass to the blonde who brought it to him.

They asked us lots of questions about our activities in town and offered suggestions as to what we should do before we left. They were very keen about a stretch of beach outside of town. It sounded like we might need to rent a car to get there, but Helen clapped her hands as an idea came to her and almost yelled, "We should take you on the boat!"

Marco smiled and agreed with his wife. He asked us what our plans were for the day after tomorrow. We informed him that we didn't have any other than walking around the marina.

If waking up nude, drinking coffee in bed and strolling through town were taking over the world, we would be Pinky and The Brain.

"It's settled then. We will meet at the boat after breakfast!" Marco seemed confident they would make our last week in Greece spectacular.

We never looked at a menu. Marco asked us what we felt like and disappeared into the kitchen. Helen leaned over me and said "I have that same dress!" The two of you talked about the little shop where you picked it up. Helen took a look down at your chest and said "I think we fill it up about the same way" and laughed as she looked at me.

As you would expect, the table service was excellent when you sit with the owners. Our waitress kept refilling our glasses every time they went below half full.

We ate and drank for hours. The two of them told us about growing up together. They lived on the same street and had been friends since school. Marco is a couple of years older and said he always thought of Helen as a little kid until she came back from university. She admitted to having a crush on him her whole life and he blushed. She looked at you and said "can you blame me? Just look at him!" He turned his head to you and gave a little puppy dog face and I think you blushed a little too.

When we left our hotel room, you were a little self conscious of the way the dress clung to your body. The design of the dress meant you couldn't wear a bra, and through the silky material, it showed. When Marco's coolness betrayed him and you caught him looking a couple of times, you definitely felt uneasy, but by the time our third bottle of wine was polished off, you leaned into the sexiness.

When Marco tried to point out a couple across the room, he leaned over to show you where to look and you craned your neck so that your cheeks were almost touching. Helen must have felt left out, as she leaned over me to see what everyone was looking at. She put her arm on the table and lifted herself off her seat until her cheek was almost touching yours. Her breasts pushed into my chest and my coolness definitely betrayed me. We were in a hotness sandwich and there was nothing we could do about it.

When she saw who Marco was pointing out, Helen said in disgust, "Ugh! Those people are the worst!" She returned to her seat and told us that they were from Ohio or somewhere and kept complaining that their meat wasn't cooked enough.

Our waitress showed up with four different desserts and a bottle of ouzo. We surely didn't need anything more to eat or drink, but at least we just had to stumble upstairs to go to bed. I'm not much of a dessert guy, but even I had to admit that the desserts looked amazing. They were the kind of thing you see on cooking shows. Chocolate and fruit with fancy looking glazes swirled around the plates.

Each of us had a plate and a shot glass in front of us and Marco quickly filled our glasses with the ouzo. Normally you would have discretely passed your glass to me, but when Marco made a toast to our beach adventure, there was really no way out of it. We all touched glasses and drank.

When the booze hit your stomach, your entire body shook. Your breasts shimmied from side to side and almost escaped your dress.

"No more for her!" Helen said loudly.

"I don't think her dress or Marco's eyes can take anymore!"

We all looked over and his eyes were still focused on your chest. It seemed he gave up on being cool and just couldn't be subtle any longer. You reached your hand to his chin and with one finger, raised his head up, looked him in the eye and said "up here Buddy" and laughed.

He had been thoroughly busted and blushed again as he looked over to his wife who was also laughing.

"To be fair to him, if I was wearing that dress, Ted would be doing the same thing,"

We laughed and picked up our forks. All of us made "ummm" sounds after our first bites. Mine was chocolate mouse with raspberry glaze. You had some kind of lemon pie while Marco and Helen had similar looking custardy type things. Marco's had a browned crust and he described it as a greek cousin of creme caramel.

When I told that was your favorite, he took some on his fork and brought it to your mouth. You squeezed my hand under the table and opened your lips. It was incredibly sensual to see him gently feed you.

Another, louder "ummm" was made and you squeezed my hand even harder.

"Alright, let's not get too carried away over there" Helen said while smiling at her husband.

"Let's see what Ted's taste like?."

Helen turned to me, closed her eyes and opened her mouth. I didn't want to be rude, so I scooped a bite of mouse, dragged it through the raspberry sauce and brought it to her mouth.

The mouse went in just fine, but the raspberry sauce dribbled onto her chin. It was not nearly as sensual as your tasting. She lurched forward so the sauce would drop on the table instead of her dress and in doing so, her breasts ended up in her desert.

It was a bit of a comical disaster! We were definitely not sober and the whole scene was hilarious. Helen reached for her napkin and started on her chin which had bright red sauce all over it. I quickly gave her mine and she began to clean her custard covered dress. She wiped down at the custard and with each pass her dress went lower and lower. Like she had noted earlier, both of you definitely knew how to fill one out. Her black lacy bra was now fully visible and the view was impressive.

Marco made a coughing noise and she looked up and realized what was happening. She quickly pulled her dress up and made some kind of joke about having to top the show that the two of you had put on.

More drunken laughter filled the room and by the end, with much less fanfare, everyone had tasted each other's deserts. The restaurant was now empty except for the staff cleaning things up. We were all full and more than a little tipsy.

After a three hour dinner, we decided to finally call it a night. Marco and Helen each moved to the end of the booth and stood up. Both were a little uneasy on their feet, but seemed to be ok. I made it out in what I thought was style and you started to slide toward Marco's outstretched hand. Over the course of the evening, your dress had become one with the leather booth. As you slid over, your dress stayed put and more and more of your thighs came into Marco's view. By the time you reached the end, he could clearly see the very skimpy black undies you were wearing. Both of you could see what was happening, but neither of you did anything to stop it.

Helen gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek and both of us were oblivious to the show you were putting on. Marco was anything but oblivious as he drank in the sight of your tanned thighs.

When you finally made it upright, he also gave you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. The four of us gave our thanks to the staff who were left in the restaurant and walked into the lobby of the hotel. We finalized our plans to meet them at the boat and said goodnight.

As we walked down the hallway to our room, I reached down and gave your bottom a squeeze. You responded by pushing into my hand and giggling. When I asked you what was so funny, you just giggled a little more.

"I think Marco may have seen my undies."

When I asked which undies you were wearing, you looked over your shoulder to make sure no one was around, turned your back to me and lifted your dress over your ass to show a tiny, silk thong I had never seen before.

"I bought this with the dress and I thought you would like the way it looks."