tagLoving WivesGail and Mark

Gail and Mark

byHADRIAN M©

If you have not read our postings I'll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. We are an early thirties couple, I am 5'10", in reasonable shape. My wife Gail is an exceptionally beautiful and intelligent woman, soft spoken and very shy. She is 5'7" with a young girls figure, long shapely legs, small breasted, and a picture perfect behind. Her light brown hair blondes in the sun and she has the loveliest green eyes. I am from Chile, where we are living and working now, Gail is an American.

Every summer we take our holidays in and around the South of France. A few years ago while visiting France we met Tamara, an elderly British lady living in Cannes. Gail and Tamara quickly became friends. Through that friendship we were introduced to many very delightful people, and especially one Italian couple, Giancomo and Gabriella, with whom we quickly cemented a strong bond. All rights reserved

For our holiday this year, we traveled business class at the expense of the shipping company we were involved with in Italy. During the flight Gail and I talked about the Christmas visit from our friends from Italy, Giancomo and Gabriella. It was the third time they had visited us in Chile, and we liked that it was possibly becoming habit. Each summer we would spend most of our holidays with them. This year's summer plans were to spend almost three weeks on Giancomo's yacht, the Gabbiano, sailing the Mediterranean.

We cleared customs in Paris and flew to Nice. As was our custom we rented a car in the airport and we started the short drive to Antibes.

Usually we would first stop in Cannes to visit Tamara. However, just before we left Chile our friend in Italy, Gabriella, called to tell us that Tamara had an emergency trip to the U.K. and would not be in Nice when we arrived. That changed our plans somewhat, and when we arrived in Nice we headed for our favorite hotel in France, the Hotel Du cap in Cap d' Antibes. We had called for reservations just five days ago and were told no rooms were available, but we finally prevailed after calling back for a fifth time.

The Hotel is perched on the top of a ridge about 20 to 30 feet above the sea. Our plan was to relax and sun for three days before we went to Monaco to board the boat. We arranged a cabana when we checked in with plans to spend as much time as possible relaxing in the sun, before heading to Monaco.

The twenty one remaining days of our holiday would be spent aboard the Gabbiano, a magnificent yacht owned by our friend Giancomo. Marbella Spain was our first planned stop and Giancomo suggested we then sail to Tangiers.

The cabanas are irregularly arranged between the Mediterranean and the hotel. Pathways connected the cabanas with one leading to the sea, which was about fifteen or twenty feet below our cabana. The way the limited space was arranged gave each cabana reasonable privacy. Only if we stood on our patio could we see the patio and entry to the cabana on our left or right.

Gail went into a corner of the dark cabana and undressed, then tucked a towel just above her breasts. When she stepped out to the patio she laid another towel on her recliner, then slowly took the towel from around her and lay naked face down on the recliner, and I coated her with sun lotion.

A young man brought sliced fresh fruit on ice and coffee that I had ordered. We dozed lazily, hardly talking for hours. I sat up and stretched for my book, planning to read.

Moments later I heard talking and looked up to see a young couple walking toward our patio busily chatting, carrying wide canvas bags. I watched as they approached, the man, on the left of the pathway, would walk directly beside our patio. I wondered if he would be able to see Gail's naked legs and behind as he walked by.

The young lady was about Gail's height, refined looking, with her short blond hair perfectly cut in layers. As they approached I recognized English. She carried herself beautifully, her long neck giving her an air of haughtiness. She was looking straight ahead while walking and talking, they exchanged comments, and I noticed her yellow swim wear covered by a thin see through beach blouse that hung to thigh length.

As they walked by our patio the man looked up at me and smiled, "Morning" I said.

He nodded, "Good morning."

The woman looked at me, while continuing her conversation, and without so much as acknowledging my existence; she continued talking and looked away. From the side she looked thin, small breasted, and very elegant.

As they passed I could see that the back of her swim wear was indeed a thong. In the ten or fifteen seconds that it took to watch them go by, I thought, "She is stunningly beautiful."

They walked into the cabana on our left.

Gail raised her head. "Would you put more lotion on my back please," she asked. I stepped over and sat on the edge of her recliner, squeezed several dollops of lotion on her back and behind. "Might as well have fun while I rub," I commented.

Gail questioned, "Did someone just pass by?"

"Yes, a young couple," I answered.

Gail twisted her head to look up at me, eyes, squinting, and a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. She looked so beautiful at that moment. "Could he see me?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so." I was rubbing lotion on the cheeks of Gail's behind. "They are in the next cabana," I said.

I had been reading in the sun. It was hot. Gail was lying on her back and the view over her shoulder across her breast was to her painted toes was enticing. I took the two steps toward her recliner and sat on the floor beside her, resting my hand on her upper thigh. "Why do we feel so comfortable when we are in France?" I asked.

Gail looked at me with a knowing smile, "I know why," she replied. "Ask me that again when I have an hour to tell you." Gail raised her right hand as a shield against the sun, "Plus, it's like coming home."

I nodded, "Want to go in the water with me?" I asked.

"Not if you're going to the sea, the water is too cold," Gail answered. Edging my feet into my flip flops, I grabbed a towel and started toward the water. "Careful," Gail chimed.

I walked the short distance and stopped at the edge of the small cliff looking out over the Mediterranean. It was just like when we did the same thing looking out over the pacific when in Chile. When you can't see the other side, they all look ominous and deep. In a few days we would be on the Gabbiano sailing this sea.

While standing there I saw movement to my right and turned to see the young man from the next cabana walking toward me. For a hotel that was full there certainly wasn't much movement in the Cabana area.

The young man approached me and asked, "Is this where you go into the water."

"Yes," I replied. "There's a ladder there," and I pointed to my left. "Or you can jump in from up here."

He walked closer to the edge and looked down. "It must be fifteen feet. Is it deep?"

"It's very deep," I added. "There's also a pathway down, and again I pointed further left."

"Have you every jumped from here?" he asked. "Yes, I have," I nodded. And before we both jumped, laughing, we stood together and exchanged considerable small talk.

His name was Mark. He and his wife were from Connecticut. It seems that his wife's parents were regulars here at the Cap, and for the first time in many years they were unable to come. So Mark and his wife were given the gift of a paid holiday. I later found out they were staying in one of the better suites which were usually impossible to get. Mark did not seem terribly excited about being here. He commented that he preferred the Caribbean.

Mark and I screamed as we jumped into the water. And as we were rising back to the top I let out a silent scream because the water was so cold. Mark surfaced shaking his head, "My goodness this is cold," he gushed.

We swam around just feet from the ladder first out, them back, trying to warm up. After maybe five minutes I headed for the ladder, and Mark followed.

We toweled off, still chatting, as we started back toward the cabanas. As we approached our cabana I walked a few steps ahead and spoke over the bushes and small wall that surrounded our patio. "Gail, I want to introduce someone." Mark sensibly stayed back a few feet, while Gail stood up and placed a towel over her breasts allowing it to hang in front to cover herself.

We quickly caught a brief glimpse of her left breast in the process. "This is Mark, our Cabana neighbor, and your countryman," I introduced.

"Hello Mark," Gail almost whispered, "Sorry I can't offer my hand," and she motioned to the towel she was holding in place. Above her hand her chest was red, she was blushing.

Mark nodded and answered, "Good morning...afternoon," he corrected, smiling." Sorry to make you get up." Gail just stood smiling. I could see that Mark was taken with Gail's nakedness, even though we couldn't see anything. His eyes were glued to her face; it looked like he didn't know what to say. After some seconds he offered, "Well, I'd best get back to Carol, see you later."

"Wow," Gail announced after he had gone. "I was almost naked."

"You were naked," I countered. "Except for the towel hanging crooked in front of you."

Gail looked down, even though she was already sitting in the recliner. "Did anything show?" she asked.

"We could see the very top of your leg. I wanted to tear the towel away and look." Then I added, "I'm sure he felt the same way. He'll be thinking about that tonight."

"Thinking about what," Gail asked, "My leg?" her face was flushed. "I hope you're right and he didn't see more..." She didn't finish the sentence but added, "He's so young."

"Twenty six," I said, "and they have a three year old child."

I could hear talking from over at Marks cabana, but I could not make out what was being said. Then I heard a women's voice, it was Carol. I watched her bent over, probably rummaging through a beach bag, "I asked you to pack it," she said loudly because Mark was inside the cabana. "We can't lay out here in the sun, I'm already getting burned."

I didn't say a word to Gail; I just stood up, picked up our sun lotion, and started toward Marks Cabana. As I approached Carol was standing sideways to me, her behind completely bare thanks to the thong. As I neared I said, a little too loudly, "Hello," then in a normal voice, "I heard you talk about sun lotion. I'd be honored if you would accept to use ours." Carol stood looking at me, no smile, but not unfriendly. Mark came out from the cabana, smiling, and introduced me to his wife.

Carol finally spoke. "Thank you, we forgot to pack ours," she said.

"You mean Mark forgot to pack it," I responded.

Mark laughed. Carol finally broke a smile which I found enchanting. We made small talk for a moment more, and I returned to our cabana.

Half hour later Mark and Carol strolled by our Cabana. I was outside, waiting for Gail to freshen up. "We're heading for the restaurant, can we bring something back for you."

"That's kind," I said. "We're headed there as well, we'll walk with you. Just then Gail stepped out and we introduced the girls to one another. We lunched together. The girls chatted like old friends. Fashion, movies, and both girls were jealous of the others life style. Gail of her motherhood, Carol of Gail's work and, as they referred to it, that she lived "overseas."

Mark was into sports, knew everything about baseball, football, even tennis. I was astounded. He knew records of players and more. I told him that Gail and I would be playing tennis in the morning since the clay courts were only steps away from the cabanas. Later, at lunch, we agreed to play doubles with Mark and Carol.

Both Gail and Carol asked so many questions about the area that we simply asked them to join us at dinner as well.

We met in the bar at 8:30. Gail was dressed in dark green silk slacks, brown open sandals with colored ceramic stones, and a beige pull over silk blouse with three buttons at the neck that were open. The sight of her slacks which fit softly around her behind, and her breast moving beneath her blouse, was exquisite. My enchantress. I knew there was nothing underneath her pants and blouse.

The girls had spoken about what to wear and Carol was dressed the same way. She wore light linen slacks and an embossed cotton shirt. My mind was screaming with desire by the end of the evening because the embossing made seeing the movement of her breast too occasional.

We drove to Cannes, dined, walked through the casino, and returned to the hotel bar. Wherever we went the girls caught everyone's attention. The waiter in the restaurant was so taken by the girls that his constant mistakes became the butt of our laughter all through dinner. Standing to the side of Gail he tried to look down her blouse. In front or to the side of Carol he did the same. I too was trying to see Carol's breasts.

At the hotel bar we ordered one drink and danced for about an hour. We changed partners once, for about a ten minute period. Carol masterfully kept the small talk from being at all personal. I held her close; she comfortably stayed near, but nothing personal enough to cause me to anticipate anything.

Gail later called it a perfect evening, though she said that Mark felt hard the whole time they danced. She excused it to his youth.

When we were in bed we cuddled, touched, and talked about the first time we were in this hotel and relived some of the interesting moments.

In the morning we breakfasted in our room and went to play tennis at 10 AM. Carol and Mark were already waiting. Mark was decked in full tennis gear with wrist and head band, and a selection of several racquets. He looked the pro. Gail and I are dedicated tennis players and we easily won two sets and we all enjoyed the game. Afterwards Carol suggested, "You guys set us up," she laughed. Let's switch partners and play again this afternoon." We all agreed.

We returned to our rooms to shower and carried our tennis gear back to the cabana. Gail settled in for some serious sun. I joined her by lying face down on the recliner so that I could place my book on the floor in front, and read. I wore my red Tommy Bahama trunks, Gail was naked.

Ten minutes later mark and Carol came up to the cabana, "You look comfortable," Carol said. As I looked up Carol had her hand outstretched with a tube in her hand. "Here..." she said.

Mark's attention was fixed upon Gail's naked behind. Gail was lying with her head facing the walkway so he was looking at her from shoulders downwards. Gail rose slightly using the towel beneath her to partly cover her breasts.

"Thanks for the sun lotion yesterday," Carol said, motioning for me to take the tube.

"Are you giving us back the borrowed lotion," I asked.

"Well, yes," Carol smiled.

I didn't respond and I noticed that her smile faded, it looked like she thought I was offended.

Gail watched the exchange. I was looking at Carols hand with the Suntan cream, "I can't take that," I said. Then, after the long pause, "maybe I can accept a payback if you rub the cream on me."

Carols expression changed, first wondering, then to a knowing smile. She looked at Gail who was also smiling at the exchange. Carol nodded several times, her deep blue eyes studying me, and then finally, with a knowing smile she said "I can do that. I'll be right back." Carol and Mark returned to their cabana to unload their bags.

"You're so fresh," Gail said. She had lain her head down again. "She'll do it you know," Gail mumbled over her arm.

"I hope so," I responded, and then added, "You think Mark is in love with your behind?" I asked.

"He seemed fixated," Gail said. "Kind of flattering considering Carols beauty."

Carol returned about ten minutes later and stepped onto our patio. I laughed. "You don't have to do this Carol," I said.

"No, no," she insisted. "I'm going to rub this cream on you."

"I'm ready," I said. I set my book aside and lay face down. I felt bad that I had tricked her. Carol started to rub the cream into my back and I was on fire with her touch. I didn't sorry now.

She and Gail exchanged a few words about shopping in Cannes. Carol was sitting on the side of the recliner. Her thigh was pressed against me; rubbing in the cream was more like a massage.

Carol casually mentioned that she had called for a massage in the room. "Do you know how much they charge?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer. "It would have to be Gold finger giving the massage before I paid that much. I canceled," she announced.

Gail and I both laughed. I turned over on my back and Carol rubbed the cream across my chest and arms. "How's that?," she asked, and rose to leave. She had spent all of two minutes rubbing me with sun cream.

We ate salads for lunch in the beautiful outdoor dining area. The girls had covered up with shawls and shirts but still caught the attention of everyone in the dining room. Gail and Carol were easily the youngest ladies in the room.

When we finished we sat in our cabana and talked, the girls mostly chatting with one another. Gail told them about our plans to sail on the Gabbiano. She wondered why Carol and Mark had not been to France before. Carol, with an annoyed nod towards Mark commented, "Because he always wants to go to Jamaica. He has this crazy fantasy about me...," she stopped, caught herself and laughed, then continued, "He has wasted three years of holidays." Mark looked at me with a smile, his hands lifted as if to say, what have I done now.

Gail changed the subject, guiding the conversation. "Rian suggested we invite you to Monte Carlo for dinner tonight," Gail said. "It's about an hour drive."

Mark answered, "We'd would love to see Monte Carlo," and while answering he looked at Carol to acknowledge approval.

"Okay," I said interrupting the talk. "How are we partnering for the game?" No one answered. "How about carol and myself against..."

Gail interrupted. "Why not gals against guys. You can spot us." Carol seemed to like that idea.

I offered to spot a 15 love start but Gail suggested a 30 love advantage. I tried to bargain but Mark was confident we could win. "What do we win or lose?" I asked.

Carol asked," Money?"

"No, not money," I countered. We bantered back and forth until I suggested, "How about the loser gives the winner a 1 hour massage. Mark liked that idea; Gail laughed and commented that whoever won her massage would be a loser. I quickly said we switch partners. I thought I could sense Carol's intelligent eyes studying me for a moment then squinting with the hint of a smile. But we all agreed.

It was about 3 o'clock when we started to play. The game went well enough for Mark and I but Gail was too good a player for a 30 love spot. Gail played almost all her rallies to Mark, and we lost. We went back to the cabanas, changed into swimwear and rinsed off under the shower at the pool. The girls went first and returned to the cabanas. When Mark and walked back to the cabana Gail was already lying on her stomach on our patio, still in her bikini. Mark walked into our patio, and I walked toward their cabana.

Carol had placed a towel on her recliner and was standing beside it. She had taken off her bikini and was wearing her thong swimsuit. "Ready for the best massage ever," I asked.

There was still no suggestion in the way she looked at me, when she answered, "I certainly am. I can't believe I get a massage for free."

Carol lay on the recliner face down, with a towel under her forehead. Her thong disappeared between her cheeks and I was blessed with a view of her perfect behind. I used sun cream as massage oil and I started at her feet. I coated her feet and began pulling each toe, squeezing her calf's rubbing with the base of my palm from ankle to knee. I spent 10 minutes just on her feet and lower legs. Most of the time I was looking at her behind. In spite of bending her lower leg, and some movement, her legs were together the whole time. It was very erotic just touching her and I could understand how men could get caught up in touching a woman's feet.

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