An Awakening

I rose, took the guy's hand, and drifted into the middle of the room, sweeping into a gentle embrace before starting to sway with the tunes, with the stranger.

"I'm Sean," he said softly, "and I have been watching you all night. You really are a gorgeous girl, you know?"

"Girl?" I laughed.

"Woman, then. Lovely eyes, lovely smile, and a lovely figure if you don't mind my saying it?"

I sighed, oddly contented, "I don't mind at all." I meant it.

Sean moved closer and I could feel my breasts beneath the silky blouse squashing up gently against his chest, could feel a distinct pressure against my belly, could feel him bend a little, could feel his right hand slip up the back of my left thigh, under my skirt and–

"Stop right there!" I jumped back.

"Oh come on, love," Sean tried to drag me back close to him, "We all know you're just playing the little-girl-next-door routine but you're as horny as fuck really!" His left hand closed over my right breast. He grinned from ear to ear.

I don't think I've ever slapped anyone so hard.

Stephie was by my side in a split second it seemed – certainly about an hour earlier than the stinging in my hand began to subside. "Oh God, my angel, come here!" She pulled me into a tight embrace, apparently suddenly sober, "If I'd had any idea he was such a piece of shit I'd never have let him... oh fuck it." She released me for a second and I heard rather than saw a second slap.

I couldn't help it – I laughed. Then I grabbed my friend again and let her lead me back to the table where we finished the last of the wine and from where we declined the two other offers of dances we had – each (I won that bet, to my slightly addled shock). We were back in our room – alone but for each other – by two, and asleep in our skirts and very little else by two minutes past.

*****

The hangover was far less nasty than I'd feared when I first woke and a couple of coffees and a paracetamol sandwich had me more or less feeling human by eleven. Stephie was even faster to recover but took things easy. She also apologised to me somewhere in the region of a thousand times, blaming herself for, as I tried to point out to her, the chauvinism of others.

A little after eleven, tiring of the string of 'sorry, Allie' mantras, I slipped on my bikini bottoms, and stood staring at the top. "Stephie?" I interrupted another apology.

"Sorr... er, what?"

"I want the most honest answer in the world from you, understand me?"

Stephie came and stood beside me, "Sure, Als, it's the least I can–"

"Oh stop it! Can I take that as a yes?"

My friend nodded, evidently not trusting herself to speak without the 's' word or its equivalent making an appearance.

"Right," I took a deep breath, "We're here for two more days after today, yes?"

She nodded, "We leave on the third morning from now."

"You know I've never gone topless before, right? Well..."

"Allie?"

I took a deep breath, wondering even to myself where the thought had come from, where this surge of... well, girl-power had arrived from, "I want to now." And I did.

Apparently it was easier for me to understand than it was for Stephie, "You want to... I mean, you... after last night and all... you really–"

"Yes, really! Come on Stephs, I need help here." All I really needed was for her to take my hand and drag me outside still topless but now that the moment was upon me I couldn't even bring myself to ask for that much assistance.

Fortunately, my best friend is also a mind-reader.

"Just one question then, Als. Are you really sure about this?"

"Well, yeah."

Stephie nodded, back in control. She reached around me, grabbed our bags and towels, shoved sunglasses and sunhats into the bags and took my hand. "No hesitation, follow me."

With that she headed for the door, almost dragging me behind her, the bags and towels looking almost as clumsy as me in her other hand. Before I knew what was happening my feet were on the tiles outside my room and in another second I was marching along behind my friend, feeling more exposed than ever before in my life.

I thought for one moment that she was going to take us right to the back of the grounds where we had started out on the first morning. Instead she stopped on the banking where we had spent most of the previous day, exposed to the looks of anyone and everyone. As she laid the towels down and I stood there trying so hard not to cover my naked breasts, I realised that she was quite right – being somewhere unseen would have been pointless given what I was trying to do. And that thought fired a spark deep inside me.

Before settling onto the towel next to my friend I turned and surveyed the crowded pool area. One or two heads – male heads mostly – turned my way. They looked at me. Looked at my topless form. I felt a flush, a chill, but also a thrill. I sat slowly.

"Als?" Stephie said beside me

"Hm?"

"You do realise, don't you, that your tits are still milky white compared to the skin around which has already gotten a lot darker?"

"I guess," I said, looking down at the almost glaringly white skin below.

"Well, Allie, from where they're sitting they probably think you've still got your white bikini on!"

"Oh, Stephie!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking! Bikini tops don't have nipples, right?"

I looked back down and couldn't help but agree that there were at least two things that were definite giveaways. The rest of the skin of my breasts was, however, very pale. "I look stupid," I moaned, suddenly more concerned about how natural I looked than the fact that I was half-naked in public for the first time in my life. I did however thoroughly love the feeling of the air across that part of me that had been covered for almost three decades when it came to the great outdoors.

All of that is not to say that the overall experience wasn't alarming in its own way. There's a perfect word for it – discomfited. I just didn't feel comfortable that way and although I knew – was already positive – that I'd get used to it, I still wasn't ready to fully relax and enjoy the sensations (both the air and the looks, although the latter was most unusual and troubling).

Stephie, again using her innate mind-reading talent was very quiet that day and made sure that she was the only one who ever needed to go close to any other sunbathers or pool users (or bar users – we were in dire need of dog pelts rather than just hairs of the said animals). She also refused no fewer than three party invitations although she did remark to me that there was an altogether higher level of interest all of a sudden. She put that down to my topless-ness although I personally still believe it was more to do with the impromptu slapping that had taken placed the previous night.

Whatever the reason, I was glad. By the end of the afternoon I felt stupidly exhausted. Probably thanks to the totally alien sensation of wearing just bikini bottoms most of the day, and for the first (and only time) on that break, I was in bed and asleep by ten o'clock.

*****

I woke to find our room empty and a note from Stephie saying that she had woken super-early after her own early night and had gone in search of breakfast for once. She's added that she would be back by nine and for me to wait for her before going outside.

I admired and was grateful for her caring nature when it came to me, but I already knew that I had changed over the course of the previous 36 hours. I was even, I had to admit to myself, looking forward to the sensation of fresh air on my naked breasts and, I can't lie, the looks that I would receive. I found it so hard to believe after so long, but it was true. I could even feel an unexpected heat at my groin! It even felt more than a little moist!

I even felt that I felt it, if you get my drift.

I looked at my phone acting as my watch. It was 8.45. I had a sudden urge to shower before Stephie returned and had just finished gasping and shuddering before she did get back. If you get my drift again.

That day passed in an altogether easier way, even though I spent all of our time outside topless. Stephie had come up with what she hoped was a clever way of stopping the rest of my skin getting much darker while letting the white flesh of my breasts catch up without getting too pink – and to my surprise it seemed to be working. My surprise was lessened when she told me that she's used the same technique on her butt the previous summer after switching to a thong bikini.

It was the next day, though, when other thoughts came and settled in next to the new 'look at me, I'm topless in the sun' ones.

There was, of course, only one day left after that one but I don't think urgency had anything to do with it. I think I was just coming to terms that in that unique environment – the overseas holiday – it was perfectly acceptable to strip down to just bikini bottoms. And what's more, if it felt good to be seen topless, to be observed with my breasts bared for all to see, well so what? It was natural and what I felt deep inside was personal and private. No matter that my showers were taking a few minutes longer.

But it went further than just a new appreciation. There was, I could feel it, a new sensation – a desire to experience more while there was still time before we returned to the UK. To take a while to find out what the new me might like to experience, even.

Despite all of that self-confession, there still remained the problem of who I fundamentally was. The timid little mouse. And that is where my Stephie and her mind-reading skills took centre stage.

A little after three o'clock that afternoon she returned from the bar with two glasses of cool wine. "Allie... I think we should have our turn at throwing a party tonight. What do you say?"

I stared up at her and eventually tilted my sunglasses away from my nose, "You mean invite a load of strangers into our room?"

"On our terms, sure, why not? We deserve a little shindig before we have to start thinking of boring Britain." She paused as she sat back down, "And I think it would do you good, as well."

The comment was simple but laden with hidden meaning. I couldn't tell what she was hinting at, for sure. Well, not until she added: "You've started to look as cute as you really are, maybe you can act it now as well..."

I turned a curious eye towards her, "I'm not sure what you're suggesting but can I remind you that I am on the rebound and you are a married woman?"

"Was I suggesting anything untoward?" She asked with a mock innocence that wouldn't have fooled a nun in a coma, "And anyway, who said anything about me being unfaithful again?"

"Well, no one said anything– hey! Again?"

Stephie snorted a laugh, "Don't get all Miss Prissy on me, I never start anything. If Tim strays, however, I feel that I have a free go due myself."

Tim, her husband, had certainly succumbed to temptation before but to her credit I had never realised that Stephie ever had some revenge fun of her own. A thought struck me, "Has he strayed recently then?"

"That," Stephie laughed softly, "is something I won't even discuss with a best friend. Let's just say that I might consider a tiny little amount of 'revenge flinging' later – nothing to scare you away though."

I shrugged.

Stephie sat further up, "Is that a 'yes' then?"

"I don't," I said slowly, "see why not. Just please promise me that you won't give me a reason to regret this decision?"

She punched the air, "Yay! And nay, I won't give you any reason at all!"

And do you know something? I honestly think that we both believed her.

*****

At half past nine I was still undecided as to what to wear and Stephie, friend or not, was hardly helping matters but feeding me more wine and what was beginning to sound like dares rather than suggestions.

"Stephs, if I wore a halter top like this my boobs would be on show before the second drinks were served!"

"The word is 'tits' unless you want to sound like a little girl, and there might be a bit of room in there but you wouldn't slip out."

"Well your tits are almost certain to slip out of that stupid little tank top and I don't want to raise the count to four."

Stephie giggled – a sound that I should always remember represents a warning – "At least you didn't say 'no' this time, and if my tits slip out, so what? Perhaps that would count as my – very mild –'revenge fling', and at least everyone here has seen them clearly enough already!"

That last comment was true but I already knew that there was a world of difference between seeing them bared in the sunbathing area and seeing them bared here (even though the actual experience hadn't been suffered by me at that point). And that was without translating the experience a few hundred miles – I was already starting to think that none of this would ever come into the equation back home, and was very grateful for the difference. I let out a humph and picked up the halter necked top again. "Well..." I began, that difference between here and home starting to make me think differently already, "I suppose–"

"Great!"

I know how a pig feels now when it's hog-tied by a cowboy. Stephie had me in that top in a matter of seconds. Somehow I didn't feel very much more dressed. She also poured me another wine, and after drinking that I didn't really mind about not feeling more dressed. It helped that her silly little tank top slipped off her boobs – tits – twice while she was fiddling around with my ties. I was getting increasingly giggly but through all the wine and wildness, it was Stephie's words that I clung onto and which took me through to a place where I could finally be honest with myself after all the years of being such a prude. I was going to love the attention that night.

*****

The first guest – a guy of no more than twenty – arrived a little after ten and I greeted him at the door with a broad, possibly silly, smile. The smile might even have widened a little when he didn't even try to hide the fact that he gave me a real once over with eyes that were not quite on stalks, but were certainly in no danger of drowning.

Stephie and I alternated with the door-answering duties, and alternated behind our makeshift bar (a table covered in cans, bottles and glasses), both of us almost visibly wallowing in the mercifully hands-free attention that we were receiving.

We danced, we laughed, we all sang along to terrible pop tunes. Stephie and I looked upon our little party empire and smiled. My halter top stayed tied, and my breasts – okay, tits, sheesh – stayed covered. Even Stephie's tank top only slid down once. We were both in short skirts and this time they were both very short – but we both wore panties, little lacy ones in my case, little spider webs in hers and – get this – one time when I bent to get more bottles of beer from the fridge I didn't even cover up too fast when said panties were obviously visible for a few seconds.

As the morning hours wore on we slowed the music and two of the younger guys who had evidently not been witness to our slap happy time the night before asked each of us to dance. Stephie looked at me with eyes that held both a question and the preferred answer – and when I gave a gentle nod, I loved the look of relief that passed through them. I was sure then that she really would have declined had I done the same.

Not that there was any chance of me declining an offer by then. The wine, Stephie's constant urging, and a whole new, experimental, me was eager to get close to a guy, to feel him against me. I wasn't too sure about what might happen if hands were too eager once more, but I no longer cared too much about the initial contact that might entail. As it was, the young man – Danny – was as gallant as he was apparently inexperienced. When he told me that I was a real good looking young woman I believed that he meant it and even when he guessed that my age must be somewhere not far north of twenty I had the impression that it wasn't a complete lie to try to impress me.

At the end of the first slow track he held on a tad hopefully. I looked at Stephie next to us with her young man and gave a subtle shrug. She smiled and turned back to the guy. I copied her and Danny's grin nearly blinded me.

He pulled me a little closer as the track got going and the moment of resistance when I felt his hardness against my belly, my tits crushing against his chest – reminders of the night before – was just that, a moment. His hand slid up from my waist to my shoulders and the skin there, the top leaving a lot of shoulder blade open to the evening air. The touch felt like a gentle buzz of electricity and I gave the smallest of shudders.

"Sorry," Danny began, I just–"

"It's okay," I pulled him a little tighter feeling like a cross between a mother and a teenager at her first dance.

Danny's hands were on my bare shoulders again and I could feel his body pressed tightly against mine. A picture of myself, topless on the grass outside, sprang to my mind and I wondered how good a look he had gotten of my bared br... my bared tits earlier. A deep part of me hoped it had been a very good look indeed. It was my turn to pull us even tighter together.

*****

I glanced at Stephie from time to time over the next few records and each time she spare me an encouraging smile, occasionally an almost surprised one, and when our guests started to leave she took me to one side and told me to keep dancing with Danny and she would make sure everyone left properly. I asked her quickly if she was going to keep dancing with the last guy I had seen her with, a lanky but cute guy with long black hair. She shrugged and just told me to look after Danny.

I went back to him and resumed out interrupted dance.

He leaned into my ear and whispered, "Shouldn't I leave now as well? Surely you want to be up in the morning and outside again. You said it was your last day."

"I'll be out there sometime..." I paused and let myself relax just enough to add, "You'll have plenty of time to see me out there topless again."

"I didn't mean that I wanted–"

I laughed softly, "It's okay, you know? I understand you were just looking out for me in an altogether more innocent way..." Another pause, "But to be honest, I don't really mind either way." My heart was pounding.

It nearly burst out of my chest when he almost reluctantly said, "Well, you are kinda really cute to look at. Kinda hard to ignore. You've got a lovely figure and... well... it's all lovely."

Stephie chose that moment to glance at me and that gave me the strength to say, just like I imagined she might, "You mean I have lovely... tits?"

Danny gave a soft gulp and slowly nodded, "Y-yeah. Like, they are just so cute. You don't mind me saying that?"

"Not at all," I told him, aware that Stephie was now close enough to hear most of what was said. It gave me even more strength, "I like that you think that way." One deep breath, "I've discovered that I really enjoy certain people seeing me so... relaxed, and, well... that is..." My new found boldness was seeping away, despite my attempts to block its path, "I really like that you, er, liked looking, and was... well, thinking... imagining..."

Stephie's voice close by my ear startled me almost as much as Danny I guess, "What my gorgeous friend is hinting at Danny, is that she loves eyes upon her, but not quite as much as hands..." She span away leaving both of us open mouthed, and me in particular wondering just how good those mind-reading skills were.

Before I could even come up with an estimate I felt Danny's thumbs slip under the either side of my halter and move slowly down from my shoulders until they rested against the small mounds of my breasts, naked beneath the thin fabric. I looked up into his eyes to find them seeking my approval – or at least praying that I wasn't going to be mad at him. The breath was catching in my throat at the feel of this young man's flesh on such an intimate area of mine, but there was no disapproval in the look I gave him or in the thoughts that flashed through my mind. I let my eyes close for a moment, let my pleasure shine brightly in them as I opened the lids once more. My lips parted a little, the softest and quietest of moans passing over them. "I think she might be right," I whispered.