tagExhibitionist & VoyeurHolidays are for Pleasure

Holidays are for Pleasure


Monday June 30th 2012

Well now I know I am really on holiday. Not just because I have finished work and no longer have to fight the Barcelona traffic every day or because I have moved out of the city to my little village for August, no they would be the normal signs, but also because good things always happen when I am on holiday.

I finished on Friday, packed on Saturday and made it here yesterday morning. Yesterday afternoon I began what looks like it might be a lovely summer romance, in the space of my first weekend on holiday things have made a complete turnaround.

On Saturday I filled the car with all my stuff, not too much because I often come home here to my little village at the weekends so it is not like I am moving house or anything. I drove out of Barcelona with a light heart the air-con going in my little mini and some nice music helping to shorten the distance.

It doesn't normally take me much more than an hour to get here in my little village. I have a smallish house in its own garden here on the northern end of the village. I pinged the garage door and drove into the open garage instead of leaving the car on the street as I normally do.

I had to unpack a bit so I thought leaving the car inside the garage would be a better idea.

Inside I closed the doors, opened the house and emptied the car. I went around opening doors and windows and airing the place. Lunch was no problem as I had brought it with me from Barcelona but I decided to go shopping in the afternoon to stock my fridge with all the necessaries.

So after lunch and a short siesta, yes we do sleep siestas, especially in summer (and just in my knickers if you would like to know) I got dressed in a pair of white shorts and a white loose cotton top that has a pink print on it. I put on a pair of platforms that I bought recently especially for summer and drove off to the supermarket.

Really fresh stuff like vegetables and meat I get from the village market during the week but for the rest I go to the supermarket which is just outside the village on the main road to the next town. I had my hair back in a high pony tail and some great Vogue butterfly sunglasses I had got from an internet page in the US.

With my trolley I started looking for some basics, well not so basics. Cleaning stuff and so on I already have so what I was shopping for was mostly drinks and snacks.

I headed to the drinks section first and stocked up on Cava, vodka and Bacardi. I was looking for the lemon I use for making mojitos when, crash, I rammed my trolley into the back of a guy. He had been hunkered down next to his trolley looking on one of the bottom shelves and I rammed my trolley right into him because I had been looking at the top shelf.

"Oh god I am sorry," I said immediately, "I didn't see you there."

He straightened up rubbing his back but didn't say anything. I manouvered around him, muttered another apology and headed off down the aisle. As I turned right at the end he was still stood there watching me but now with a slight smile.

I didn't think anymore of it, I don't cruise supermarkets looking for men and wouldn't respond to any man who did. Unfortunately about ten minutes later as I rounded a bend I met him again, head on this time. Our trollies collided and he dropped the pot of asparagus he was holding. It shattered on the floor covering his shoes with the asparagus water and glass from the pot.

An assistant who was loading shelves next to us told him not to move as she would get a mop. I was really quite speechless and didn't know what to say this second time around. He looked down at his lovely suede shoes, now stained with the water from the pot. I smiled a sickly sort of smile at him and opened my mouth to apologise again but he forestalled me.

"You live in," and he named my village, "don't you?"

I admitted that I did wondering what sort of mess I was getting myself in. "Ok," he said, "passaré per casa teva i ho cobraré de la peça." I was a little shocked even though he said it with a smile. This is in my language, Catalan, and translated literally means "I will come by your house and take its value in kind," we often use it jokingly as if someone is going to take advantage of you to pay a debt.

The assistant arrived and started mopping up seperating us. I didn't say anything but just turned around and headed for the check out. Don't get me wrong he looked like a nice man but it is not the sort of thing that I expect someone to say in that sort of situation. Plus this is my home town, as my Gran used to say, you don't shit on your own doorstep. I paid, went home and forgot about the whole thing.

So that was Saturday. Yesterday I was well settled in, I lived on frozen food as I had planned to go to the market today, Monday, which I have in fact done. I don't eat that much anyway so my meal on Saturday evening was no problem.

Yesterday morning I woke up deliciously late, just after eleven if I remember right, had a lazy late breakfast and then spent a little time watching a recording of the Olympics opening ceremony. I have lived close to Stratford so I am really curious about how the whole place has changed. At around two I finished the ceremony, I fast forwarded through stuff like Sir Paul singing Let it be, and decided to go to the pool.

As I have explained in another story I have a really quite overgrown garden. It is nice and secluded with a pool and little else apart from lots of trees and large bushes, only half my pool gets full sun but that is fine by me.

As it is so boxed in with all the trees and bushes I don't have to worry about neighbours. I sunbathe quite freely, though not normally naked that I reserve for the beach. I went upstairs and changed into one of the new bikinis I had bought.

I love small bikinis, the skimpier the better. I am always tempted to buy one of those wicked weasal bikinis but I think that my figure is perhaps not what it should be for one of those. Anyway I pulled on the bikini bottoms and, seeing as I wasn't expecting anyone and it was midday, I left the top on my bed. I always had the towel to wrap myself in if someone rang the bell from my garden gate.

Downstairs at the pool I stretched my towel out on one of the summer sunbeds I have. It was really blindingly hot so I decided not to go with my first idea of not using any suntan oil. Normally at the start of summer I don't use much, my skin is used to the sun and I get browner quicker. Not good I know but we all have our bad habits.

Now that I am over thirty though I have started to listen to my friends and my doctor and I now use Babaria suntan oil. It is only factor 15 but it should help stop my skin aging and it smells wonderful too. I already had a factor 40 sunblock on my face, that I never forget.

I had got some more suntan oil in Barcelona from a pharmacy, I always buy new each year. I tiptoed across the grass to the gravel of my drive and to the garage. I already had to remote control so I pinged the button and the door swung upwards. The plastic bag with the oil was on the passenger seat and I grabbed it quick as the temperature inside the garage was really high. Just nipping in and out of my car made me sweat all over.

Outside in the sun on my drive I stopped and decided to apply the oil there. If I spray myself with it on the tiles around the pool I leave oily marks everywhere. I fished it out of the bag and got the top off. I put the bag and the remote control on the ground. Then I proceeded to spray myself all over with the oil.

As I said it is an oil with a lovely smell so I happily sprayed away covering myself generously. It was actually quite a kick to be standing outside in the hot sun rubbing hot oil into my skin. I started at my ankles and worked my way up. The sun felt lovely on my skin and I perversely quite enjoyed rubbing the oil into my thighs and breasts.

I even pulled my bikini bottom to one side to oil my rear. My back I just sprayed as best I could. Once I was done I dropped the bottle and top back into the bag and picked up the remote. It was hard to hold onto but once I had it I also dropped it into my bag. What I didn't notice at first was the aluminium gate of my drive that was only a few paces away slowly swing open.

As I have said my garden is secluded but once you open that gate then it is revealed to anyone in the street. I was just about to start back across the grass when I heard it clang against its stop. I knew what it was instantly.

"Shit," I mumbled and started fishing in the plastic bag for the remote.

However chance would have it that as I was fishing a car pulled up right outside. I heard it stop but stood with my back to the road. Someone got out just as I found the remote and hit the button. Nothing happened. The gate wasn't closing. I covered my oily breasts with my hands and peeked round. The guy from the supermarket was standing there at the end of my drive, his foot blocking the gate sensor. Unless he moved the gate wouldn't close.

"You seemed to have missed a bit on your back, if you like I could help you." He was smiling broadly now, "I thought this was the right house, it was nice of you to open the gate for me."

I was, once again, a little stuck for words. He took a couple of paces towards me and the gate started closing. I backed up half a pace. "Wait a minute, please." He said, he reached out and took the bag out of my hand. I couldn't really stop him as I was covering myself with my hands. He pulled the bottle of oil out of the bag and motioned at me to turn around. Not knowing really what to do I did.

He squirted oil onto the middle of my back and then my lower back.

"Now, that's perfect." He said.

I turned round again. He replaced the bottle in the bag and hooked it back onto my finger.

"I think I have been repaid in full for my shoes," he said with a smile. "But what about I invite you to dinner? Tomorrow at nine? I will come and get you. Don't worry I can let myself out," and he did.

So now I have a dinner date tonight. I wonder what will happen.

...so this is what happened

Thursday July 9th

My dinner date was a great evening, an evening that was pleasant, charming, funny and made me feel I wanted to repeat the experience. It didn't lead to anything more though there was a current of teasing in a sexual sort of way that ran through the evening and gave me an agreable buzz when I thought of all the things that might happen.

It turns out that he is a divorced, wouldn't you know it at his age, businessman, father of three (three!). Who spends a week with his kids in the summer and then goes off on his own for the rest of his holidays.

He apparently has rented a small house in the centre of my village as it is close enough for him to take his kids at the weekend, every other one, to his flat in Barcelona and yet still be "on holiday" when he isn't with them.

Married men with exes and kids are not really my kind of thing but hey, did I mention I am getting older? I suppose that in terms of available men out there this is the sort of thing that is going to happen to me so I need to get accustomed.

Anyway, he is about 1.80 tall, eighty-five, ninety kilos, he has all his hair (something essential) and seemed to be in pretty good shape. He was funny and intelligent so when he asked me to go sailing with him on his boat at the end of our date I said yes. Did he kiss me? Yes he did, we kissed and it was nice. No tongue yet though you bunch of pervs!

So this last Thursday I arranged to meet up with him. We decided to go in his car to where he has his boat.

He arrived on time, very un-Spanish but a good sign, in his car. He buzzed me from outside by gate and I hit the button and let him in. He came up the path as I was locking my front door. We said hello and kissed, as we did he had his hands on my waist and he kissed me very close to my mouth.

He was all smiles and happily picked up my bag. I had on a cream coloured summer dress and those same platforms and sunglasses. I have had had a chance to sunbathe more so I was quite tanned. Under the dress I had on a white lace tanga and no bra. I had reckoned that a little encouragement was ok.

He was in white shorts and a dark blue top, very nautical. We left the house and I locked the garden gate after us. His car turned out to be a BMW, that's ok, and he opened the passenger door for me and put my bag in the boot.

He had thoughtfully left the motor running so that the car was still nice and cool. A nice thing to do as when we left the temperature outside was 42 degrees! He got in the car and we were off.

We chatted pleasantly about our work and other stuff, continuing the conversations we had had during dinner. We headed north to the Costa Blanca and in almost no time we got to the port where he has his boat.

He found a place to park that was quite close to the port and then he took my bag again and we walked to the floating dock. He had a card that opened the gate and let us in. We walked down the dock with it swaying gently under our feet. The heat was really quite incredible and I was grateful for the sea breeze.

We had to go right down to the end and then turn left. The harbour was almost full with only a few boats not tied up. Finally he stopped at his one. As we were walking along he told me all about it, a present from his parents (mmmm nice present) it was a six metre yacht that is blue. He did tell me a whole lot more but I really can't remember all the details. Suffice it to say it has a wooden floor, that's the deck right? The bottom is dark blue and it has white plastic fittings.

It seemed pretty large to me but he assured me it was really easy to handle. There was a tiny sort of ramp thing to climb across and he went first. He dumped my bag and held out his hand. I took hold of it and started across. The boat was moving more than the dock so the ramp was quite hard to negotiate.

As I was almost there he gave a sharp tug and I lost my balance and fell towards him, right into his arms. I immediately thought that wasn't the first time he had played that trick. Still it wasn't unpleasant.

I gave a laugh but looked at him sharply, he laughed too and smiled back. I think he knew what I was thinking. The cockpit (I know the vocab a bit as he insisted on teaching me) was nice with padded benches around it and a large steering wheel on the left hand side of the hatch.

He invited me down into the boat and it was really nice. Everything was done out in white plastic and wood and was really quite luxurious. He left my bag in the hallway at the end, making no comments about where I was to sleep, and invited me to make myself at home as he got us going (or unhitched or something like that).

I poked around a bit after he had gone. The living area was just inside the hatch, a ladder lead down from outside. Then there was a kitchen area (the galley) with a fridge and so on. The fridge was well stocked with all sorts of goodies, he had been making preparations. Then there was a small passageway with a tiny shower/loo on the left.

Two really small cabins and the main bedroom at the front end. That was really rather nice. The bed fitted into the shape of the front of the boat and had lots of very clever cupboards and stuff all round it. Really inside you couldn't swing a cat (I love this expression) but it was nice for just two.

As I finished my inspection I heard the motor start and we were moving. I headed back to the stairs and out to the cockpit. He was sat on the sort of bar stool that was behind the wheel. It was still blisteringly hot.

He negotiated the harbour and the other boats with ease chatting with me about boat stuff and where he learned and so on. As I tell this he is sounding terribly snobbish but he really isn't. I can't stand "pijos" or what you might call the nouveau riche. As we got to the outer wall of the harbour and the open sea the boat started rocking quite a bit.

I held on to the handle next to he hatch. He asked if I had sailed before, actually I have. When I was a kid I did quite a lot of small boat dinghy sailing. But I said no anyway, just for fun. He advised me to remain standing as it would help me get accustomed to the movement quicker.

In fact once we were clear of the harbour things calmed down a lot. The sun was brilliant on the water and it was a little cooler if still incredibly hot. The wind picked up a bit too. He soon killed the motor and set about raising sails and so on. I found the whole experience a lot of fun.

I waited for him to finish setting the sails. It took a while but then, with the boat leaning slightly as the wind pushed us along, he finally was able to come back to me.

He told me that he could set the boat's course automatically and that the sales once up could be adjusted via buttons from the cockpit. I asked a ton of stupid questions, what about collisions, what about bad weather, is it safe to go inside when you are out sailing and so on. He was very patient and happy to explain everything.

In the end I concluded that sailing was easy. We were heading up the coast to another port where, he said, he knew a great place for supper. He told me we would have to walk to get there but not too far. At this point I was there with my legs slighly splayed swaying with the rhythm of the boat. I was holding on to a bar over the hatch and I had opened a couple of buttons at the top of my dress. The wind was whipping my skirt up around me and plastering the fabric to my breasts. My nipples were hard and easily visible.

I could see him stealing glances at them as we talked. I noticed that his eyes flicked down to my legs when the wind blew my skirt up. I was using my left hand to control it as best I could, though not so well.

Finally I asked him if he was really needed to control the boat. He said that now it was set he could relax unless the radar alarm sounded. We were now quite a way from the coast, a line on the horizon.

I couldn't see any other boats and to be honest I was feeling horny. There was something about being out in the sun with the wind and him controlling the boat so well that increased his attractiveness for me. I decided to not hold on to my skirt any more but to use my hand to keep my hair out of my eyes as we talked. My skirt kept whipping about me and he was getting a great view of my legs and the front of my knickers. He was starting to feel the effect, at least that is what I thought.

Suddenly he suggested I might like to change into my bikini. He said I would be more comfortable that way and I could sunbathe on the forward deck, there was an area of cushions there.

It seemed like a good idea to me so I turned to the hatch and got just one foot inside when my skirt blew up onto my back laving my rear totally exposed. I tried to grab it and pull it down and as I did I stumbled down the steps into the cabin.

Once inside I got my clothes under control and he stuck his head in asking if I was ok. He was grinning widely and I laughed and said, "not as good as you are feeling right now that's for sure." He laughed too and offered to get us some drinks. "Where do I change?" I asked. He told me that the main cabin was for me, he would sleep in one of the single bunks, sure I thought. I got my bag into the cabin and closed the door.

Inside I stripped off my platforms, my dress and then my knickers. I had got myself a special new bikinin for the trip and I slipped it on with a little thrill of anticipation.

I got this bikini because it makes me look good, it isn't really even suitable for swimming. There was a mirror on the back of the cabin door and I checked my reflection in it. If my dress had got him looking then it was a good thing he wasn't needed to pilot the boat as my bikini would certainly keep him busy.

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byNyaeve© 0 comments/ 11678 views/ 6 favorites

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