Discovery - 01

Hi all,

This is my first story on Literotica.

I would welcome any constructive feedback, and please let me know if you spot any spelling or grammar errors.

This is the first of many chapters to come for this story. In fact at this time, early 2022, I'm still going with it and have just past 21,000 words.

Enjoy.

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Discovery

Chapter One

It was yet another gorgeous day, cotton wool drifting across the achingly blue sky on a light sensual breeze that just took the edge off the hot spring sunshine. We were driving from our villa down a road bordered by azaleas, their red and pink flowers swaying as we passed. A road that soon deteriorated to a potholed, single-track lane that led us through a series of hairpin bends -- a dance across the cliffside -- below us the vast Atlantic ocean, the coast of Africa in the hazy distance. A different continent; so close and yet so far from the European bustle of Lanzarote.

It was mid morning. We'd been offered local knowledge from Alicia, so were not surprised to see no other cars at the road end. I say 'road end', the beach was road-end, any further and we'd be floating to Morocco.

Alicia was the woman from whom we had hired our three week holiday home. With dark eyes and long, darker hair she was a heady mix of Spanish haughtiness and African mystique, a sultry, petite beauty, full of life. We'd already spent some great times with her since we'd arrived a few days ago; a lunch out and dinner over at her own villa. We both loved her for her passion, and her sense that anything was possible.

She lived next door, running the holiday villa with her husband. That was until he ran off with their daughter's best friend's mother last year. Now she ran it alone, her daughter at university in Madrid where she was studying fashion and design.

Of course I longed to get Alicia into bed. I suspected that she was a fiery spirit, and would love to have her wide and ready smile wrapped around my cock. Alas, these fantasies of mine. I hadn't mentioned that to you, of course, you would have just rolled your eyes. And anyway, Alicia was way out of my league, even if I wasn't devoted to you. Probably only mid forties, she wasn't going to be interested in a mid fifties married man. And, even if she did have her own fantasies about me, or better still about us, there was no way that you would go down that road. And that was fine, these things needed to come from the heart as well as the mind.

And anyway, I'd made a complete fool of myself this morning, which was why you were still chuckling to yourself as we pulled up and parked.

We'd been up early, as we always were, and had wandered in to the village -- town -- something in between, to get some fresh bread. The bakery opened at 7.30 and it was worth the morning walk just for the smell of the place, but also for the fresh baguettes and croissants. By the time we'd walked back it was getting warm and I felt sweaty and grubby so, when we opened the front door of the villa, I walked straight down the hall, through the lounge and out of the patio doors, discarding shirt, shorts, underpants and finally sandals as I went, jumping straight into the cool water. I swam a couple of lengths, cleared my head from a little too much Rioja last night and was now in the perfect state of mind and body for a refreshing breakfast on the patio.

I strode up the curved steps and out of the water, single-pointedly focussed on juice, coffee and warm croissants. It took me a couple of paces towards the lounge before I realised that I wasn't alone. Standing off to my left was Alicia, towels draped over her arm. I'd forgotten that we'd asked her for an extra couple for the beach and I hadn't heard the side gate. Her mouth was agape and she was in mid stride. We stared at one another. I at her clinging t-shirt and tight shorts, her at my slim, running toned, six foot three dripping nakedness. It was a proper comedy tableau, like something out of a French porn film from the '70s; ooh-la-la, snigger, snigger. Only it wasn't that funny in real life and I was half expecting her to scream. After a few moments her eyes glanced down. And widened. I wasn't hard, but I had been imagining you naked on the beach later on, and swimming with you in the sea, and maybe, who knows, if it was as secluded as Alicia had said...

I span around and jumped back into the pool. What else could I do? Turning around Alicia had dropped the towels on the floor just inside the patio doors and was on her way back.

"Thanks," I said, "and I'm sorry".

She glanced over her shoulder and grinned, mischievously. "No problem."

At the road-end we grabbed our bags from the backseat; crammed with sunscreen, towels, lunch, a change of clothes and a lot of water. And hats. We found Alicia's faint track easily enough, heading through low, rough and prickly bush, then up the slope that left the north end of the stony beach. It began easily enough, clear on the ground, but not clear enough to have been walked by many. Alicia had told us that the next beach but one was the best. It was about five kilometres, up and down, and who was going to do that in this heat? Clearly only mad dogs and Englishman, she'd added, with her distinctive side-of-the mouth smirky grin and that sparkle in her eyes.

After twenty minutes of winding switchbacks, the track becoming steeper and steeper, and our shins and ankles becoming sorer and sorer from the thorny bushes causing us to regret not wearing long trousers just for the walk, we topped out. The small plateau on which we stood was devoid of life, in fact it looked as if a bulldozer had scraped off the top layer of earth and pushed it off the cliff and down into the foaming sea below. Sweat ran off me like rain, the rocky plateau acting like a mirror.

In one direction was our car, and then cliffs rising beyond it, and then Costa Teguise in the distance, it's many whitewashed resorts dazzling in the sunshine, the bustle and busyness in complete contrast to the almost complete silence here, broken only by the sea below and the birds that swooped up and over the cliff edge.

Gazing inland, rough country for miles. Trackless it seemed, but I doubted it. There would be sheep trails and shepherd's paths and small holdings and corral areas. But from where we stood it seemed a desolate place; stark, arid and remote, despite not being far from urban ugliness. Untamed, and why would it ever be tamed, every habitation on the jagged piles of volcanic rock that made up the Canary Islands was on the coast. Easier to use a boat than to build too many roads, the busiest one being a loop around the coast which connected all the resorts and towns.

We continued on our way, down a rougher track that was barely on the ground. I agreed with Alicia, most people who walked it at all stopped at the view, maybe sunbathed, picnicked and then went back down to the sea for a swim. But we'd never been 'most people'. This next beach was very similar to the last, where we'd parked, rocky and stark. We stopped for some water and a brief rest, the next climb looking just as steep and for which I was expecting no path at all. I would have liked to have taken off my t-shirt, made the most of the breeze to cool bare skin, but I knew from sore experience that sweat and rucksack straps didn't mix.

It was a reasonably tough pull. Easy at home, on grass and earth, but harder on dust and jagged rock. Halfway up we paused, we were already higher than the plateau and I was now, at this stage, wondering if Alicia had been pulling our legs all along.

But here we were, so onwards and upwards.

We stared. We stood and stared. It was paradise. And so unexpected. White sand. Trees. A stream winding out of the greenery at the back of the beach, cutting a channel in the sand as it fought its way to freedom. We made our way carefully downhill, conscious that we'd have to climb back up this later. Still, that was later, we were here for now. And no one else was. Surely here, fingers crossed, you would fulfil a fantasy and go naked.

We set our bags down at the back of the beach, near the stream and in the shade. I peeled off my sodden t-shirt and took off my shoes and socks. You pulled your sundress over your head, your bikini already beneath, and we ran, whooping, down the sand, only slowing when the chilly water made us gasp with O shaped lips, arms in the air. But we kept going, wading through the breakers until our shoulders were under. The water was clear glass, small fish darting around us, the sun creating dazzling diamonds on the rippling surface, and we swam and larked about and whooped some more.

But soon we needed food.

We spread our towels on the sand and whilst we ate we dried. And whilst we dried I watched you, my wife of twenty five years, sitting cross legged on your towel. Slim, toned from running and Pilates, above average height for a woman, slightly hanging A cup breasts with bullet nipples that pushed through the fabric of your bikini top. And wide hips for your build which I loved to grip when fucking you from behind, a position you loved, especially if there was a mirror to stare into. Mid-forties also, but always mistaken for much younger. I stared and smiled. Perfection.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, "just enjoying the view. Especially those fabulous nipples of yours."

You blushed but then swung yourself across me, kneeling either side of my shins, the sun behind you, silhouetting your very fit body in a dazzling halo. With a quick glance towards the cliffs you unfastened your bikini top and tossed it onto your towel. You leant forwards and we kissed. As you sat back up I followed you, taking one of your nipples into my mouth, cupping and then gently squeezing your other perky breast. You sighed and shuffled backwards down my legs, pulling my shorts down as you went. I hardened quickly when you wrapped your fist around me, and exhaling slowly I closed my eyes.

Perfection had become even better.

But then some sixth sense made me look up and glance back towards the cliff. I tapped your shoulder. You were just leaning downwards, your mouth opening.

I pulled my shorts up as quickly as I could, considering, and you put your bikini top back on. Whoever they were, and there only appeared to be one, was very slowly and very carefully descending the steep dusty path onto the beach. Getting closer It appeared to be a woman.

It was only when she was about a hundred metres away that I recognised her.

"I thought that I'd come and see if you had found it OK," she said, grinning. "Is that OK?"

We both nodded ascent, and exclaimed how nice it was to see her, but I was more than a little disappointed. But then felt churlish, it was too nice a day to be feeling disappointed about anything.

Alicia dropped her straw shoulder bag onto the sand and pulled out a large bottle of water, taking a long draught.

"I think that I need a swim," she said, and pulled her loose fitting, lilac, linen blouse over her head leaving me no option but to ashamedly and embarrassingly ogle. Covering her ample and gorgeous breasts was an undercut white bikini top, cleavage overflowing from underneath as well as above, dark areole casting shadows from beneath the fabric. She bent over and I continued to make a fool of myself by staring at her swaying and barely contained breasts. Under her very worn denim shorts was a matching pair of white, high hipped bikini bottoms. She strode off down the beach and I gazed, rapt, at her hourglass figure and how the bikini bottoms actuated the pitch and roll of her ample backside.

Curvy, that was how you would describe Alicia, naughtily, haughtily curvy. I felt myself stir and, still staring at her receding arse, I imagined my seven thick inches nestled between those plump cheeks as it slowly slid back and forth until I came up her back, cascade after cascade, all the way to the backs of her shoulders. I shook my head to rid myself of such things. Even so, one could dream, couldn't one; it costed nothing, it was guilt free, it was fun and it was certainly arousing.

Coming to my senses, and anyway Alicia was by now in the water, I glanced guiltily towards you. But you too had been staring. And your cheeks were flushed. Laughing at each other we watched her swim for a few minutes before she turned, waved and shouted, "come on you two".

I decided to stay in the shade for a while, but you went down to the sea and I watched as you caught her up and both swam around each other, full of non stop chatter and laughter. My heart rose into my throat, all being well with the world as I enjoyed the warmth on my skin and relished being alone on a secluded beach with two beautiful women. Life was good.

You were probably only in the sea for fifteen, twenty minutes or so, but it felt like longer when I glanced up from my book to see you both strolling up the sand towards me. You dropped down onto your respective towels and reached for some water.

Alicia said that she needed to put some more sunblock on and fetched a small bottle out of her bag. I commented that she must get through a fair bit of it, living here. She explained that she bought a huge ten litre pump container every spring and used it to top up smaller bottles, like the one she was using today.

"It just about lasts the season," she said. "I love the sun. But despite my colour I can still burn."

"And it's the healthy thing to do as well," I said.

She smiled back, a lovely warm smile. "Absolutely." She turned to you, waggling the bottle; "would you?"

You glanced at me, your cheeks a little flushed. In over thirty five years I'm not sure that you've ever rubbed sunscreen onto another woman, and I wondered if you would be aroused by it at all. I doubted it. "Erm, yeah, sure," you said, flushing even more.

Alicia lay forwards on her towel, propping herself up on her elbows, her breasts resting and spreading across the towel, distending the bikini fabric. You squeezed the small bottle between her shoulder blades and she hissed as it dribbled against her skin. Slowly, gently, you smoothed it sideways and Alicia lay down flat, one arm by her side the other under her turned face; a face turned towards me, eyes closed. A deep sigh emanated as you slowly massaged the cream into the area of skin above her bikini.

You gently tugged at the strap. "Shall I erm undo this?" You blushed some more.

Alicia murmured ascent, and you slowly and seductively -- although I very much doubt that was your intent -- pulled at the bow, letting the two straps drop to the side.

Another squirt, another hiss, and you continued down her back, two flat hands exploring both sides of her midriff, fingers wandering to the bulge of her breasts. Breasts that splayed across the towel, wider than her midriff. I imagined Alicia lying on top of me, my cock hard against her belly, those breasts settled across my chest.

Your cheeks were humming now, as you glanced at me, and I would have loved to have slipped a couple of fingers down your bikini bottoms to see if you were wet. I was hard again in my shorts and quickly glanced at Alicia, prepared to either turn over or go for a swim. But her eyes were closed and I think that she may have dropped off.

On to her lower back now you carefully coated the edge of her bikini bottoms so as not to get too much lotion on the white fabric, lifting the material off of Alicia's skin and sliding your fingers just under the edge.

"Do you want me to do the back of your legs?" you said. "Or do --"

A murmur, "si, porfavor," -- a cool, soothing, dozing murmur, and you applied a little more lotion to the back of a curvy thigh.

I shifted my position to lay on my side, my craning neck aching. You glanced over. At first you frowned at the distinct bulge, but that quickly morphed into a roll of the eyes, as if to say; I guess that I can't blame you.

Surprised at your blasé attitude to my erection I wondered how much you missed easing my shorts down earlier on, and how much you would have liked to have carried on with our game. And how much you regretted Alicia turning up unannounced, as she did. But now, knowing me as you did, you would know just how erotic a situation this was for me. In fact, so much so that part of me hoped that Alicia would want you to do her front as well. Not that it would happen.

But then, possibly because I was very aroused, although looking back now I still don't know what came over me; was it this place, so quiet and secluded; was it you rubbing lotion onto the skin of another beautiful woman; was it me, finding the whole situation just so incredibly sexy? Whatever it was I glanced at Alicia's closed eyes and eased my shorts down, my iron rod flopping out of my shorts and bobbing in the sunshine. Your gaze shot down to Alicia and you sharply shook your head, frowning. I grinned and put it away. You slowly shook your head, still frowning, and returned to your sunscreening.

Using two hands you massaged the lotion into and around both thighs and then down over her calves and shapely, well-defined ankles. Finally you slapped her backside, gently, but curtly enough for it to be heard and for you to wince and blush some more. Alicia squeaked a little giggle.

"Done," you said.

She sighed, a sigh that said thank you. Or maybe, I was enjoying that, can't you carry on?

"Want me to do you?" I said.

"Please," and you lay down on your towel, next to Alicia. I unclipped your bikini top and dribbled some lotion on to your back. You screamed and jumped. "Jesus!" Alicia, who had lay back down and closed her eyes, jumped as well and her eyes shot open, just in time to get an eyeful of your small, pert breasts, hanging loose like two luscious pears on a tree. "Blimey that's cold."

Alicia's eyes widened, her gaze fixed, no doubt, on your fabulous nipples and her tongue ran along her lips. Then, glancing up at me, our eyes met. As she lay back down and closed her eyes she smiled.

I finished the sunscreen. By now I was getting hot again.

"Off for a swim," I said, to barely a murmur, and skipping along the burning sand I waded out into the sea throwing myself into a wave and relishing its cool embrace. I allowed my mind to wander. And it wandered to my favourite; a life long wish, a bucket list item that I enjoyed fantasising, knowing full well that it was never going to happen. But, isn't that what fantasies are for, if they were likely to happen then would they be as powerful? The forbidden, unattainable desires are the ones that pique our yearnings, not the everyday.

Having swum for a while and cooled myself down, my body at least, I padded up the beach, my imagination still playing the fantasy around in different permutations. You were both sitting up, chatting intently, Alicia gesturing with her arms in an excited but happy way. I wondered what you were talking about. As I moved closer you glanced in my direction and your mouth dropped open. You looked sideways at Alicia who was staring intently at me, a grin on her face, her eyes wide and avid.

"I'd stop and go back, if I were you," you shouted down the beach.

Perplexed, having no idea what you were on about, I continued walking. It was only when you rolled your eyes and Alicia giggled that I twigged. I stopped, glanced down and placed my hands in front of my crotch.

I was flabbergasted. Not again. Alicia must think I'm either a dim-whit or a flashing pervert.

"Sorry," I said, "didn't realise."

You slowly shook your head and rolled your eyes. You seemed to be doing a lot of that this morning. Alicia continued to stare, her expression thoughtful.

"Sorry about him," you said to her as I slowly edged towards you, my 'embarrassment' diminishing quickly, my shame 'subsiding'.