Just The Two of Us by The Sea

The cicadas drone in the still heat of the afternoon. I know it could be far hotter if we weren't on an island. The water of the Mediterranean is still cool this time of year, but sweat drips down my brow as we walk slowly up the gently sloping pavement. We weren't intending to go on a hike, but our little walk took us to the edge of town, and we still had some energy. The map showed that it was only about a mile to the top of a hill where some old crumbly ruins (and presumably a good view) could be found. We had nothing better to do with our final afternoon on the island, the main attraction of our two-week honeymoon.

At the bend, a large road sign points up the hill to the left, but below it, another points down to the right where a trail leaves the road. The words are incomprehensible to us, but the little figure clearly means "swimming", and below it are the letters FKK. When it hits me, I burst out, "Oh! It's a nude beach!"

"What? How do you know?" asks my wife in surprise.

"FKK. It's German. I don't remember what it stands for," I respond, surprised at my own knowledge.

"How do you know this stuff?" she asks.

"Uhh... I think I heard something about it that year I was studying German," I wager a guess, unable to recall exactly where I learned it.

"Oh, cool," she responds somewhat amused. "Do you want to check it out?" she asks, and now it's my turn to be surprised. I had always been the one pushing our outdoor adventures or capturing our lovemaking on camera, so her sudden desire to go get naked with a bunch of strangers is unexpected but exciting.

"Now?" I ask.

"How about on the way back?" she suggests.

"Yeah," I say excitedly. "Let's do it." I smile as I lean in for a kiss. She meets me with her lips already parted and our tongues dance while my hand wanders to her firm buttocks. Taking her whole glute in my hand excites her, and she leans into me even more. We make out in the middle of the road as I grope her.

When we separate, she smiles and affirms with more than a hint of arousal, "Yeah, let's do that soon."

The heat feels a little less oppressive as we resume our climb, spurred on by new excitement. Fortunately we have seen no cars, which would put us in an awkward position as there is not much of a shoulder, so we walk right up the middle of the lane. The monotony of slow upward steps sends my mind wandering.

I am lost in the games of last night. We downloaded an app with sexy games for couples. It started innocently enough:

"Give you partner a back massage" ... "Touch a body part on your partner that doesn't get enough attention"

But the commands quickly got spicier:

"Remove your partner's underwear with your teeth" ... "Give him a blowjob without using your hands"

After we started playing "Put your finger in her mouth and do what she does to your finger to her clitoris", we abandoned the phone altogether. We didn't need any more assistance to keep the passion flowing. Soon we were clinging to each other as we shuddered in simultaneous climax.

It had been yet another pleasure-filled evening, but like all the others on our honeymoon, it had all happened safely within the walls of our airbnb. We had talked about ways to bring our play outdoors this trip, and some opportunities are finally presenting themselves.

I pull out my phone to check the map, and Google indicates that we should turn off the road soon. As the road crests, a rocky trail to the right becomes visible, climbing straight up the gentle ridge line. We turn, grateful to be off the dark asphalt, but the loose rock is constantly uneven beneath our feet, making the climb just enough more difficult to induce more perspiration.

As the trail narrows to a single track, I allow my wife to take the lead, less for any sense of chivalry than for the opportunity to ogle her glistening skin. Her cream white thighs gleam in the bright sunlight. The week of fun in the sun has put more freckles than normal on her powerful legs. Her shoulders are also bare, and her form fitting tank top shows dark spots of sweat beneath the long braid of deep red hair. We do not talk as we slowly ascend, and I simply stare at her muscled shoulders and round buttocks, my gaze only interrupted by the brief glances at the uneven ground.

A half cylinder of stones perhaps 20 feet tall is now visible as we approach the top of the rise. It's hardly an impressive sight, a haphazardly constructed fortification left to crumble for two centuries. However, the view is stunning. It was quite the climb, but the view gives more than I expected. Below us to the right, the town wraps itself around a large natural harbor, and to the left juts out a long a peninsula with some sort of events venue offering infinite views of the sea.

We each wander silently catching our breath, gazing out at the distant islands and the town we had just come from. As I stare in search of a familiar landmark among the rooftops, my wife calls to me, "Smile!"

I turn to see her holding up her phone already snapping candid photos. I immediately start making faces, sticking out my tongue, just to get the reaction.

"Ugh! No! Act like you're having fun!" she chides.

"What?" I retort. "This isn't fun?"

"No," she responds in deadpan.

"Then what kind of fun do you want?" I ask being difficult.

"I don't know. Fun!" she insists.

"Well, ok. I know how to have fun," I say, and before she has time to register the innuendo in my voice, I unfasten my button and fly, and fish out my genitals. My warm scrotum hangs loosely over the elastic waistband of my boxer-briefs. Exposed, I put my hands on my hips and smile like nothing is amiss. My wife snaps photos while her jaw drops.

"Oh my! That is fun!" she exclaims with a growing smile.

"Told you," I respond as I put myself away.

These will certainly be some pictures for our personal photo album. Adjusted and rezipped, I pull out my own phone. "Your turn!" I say. "Act like you're having fun!"

She rolls her eyes, and I step into a better position to capture the rocky peninsula behind her. She strikes equally mocking poses as I had. I have a faint hope that she'll join in the exhibition game that I've started, but I try to keep the hope at bay. Just because she is interested in a nude beach doesn't mean she is suddenly going to be letting me take nude pictures of her on a mountaintop.

I can hardly believe my eyes when I see her hands start to work at the button of her shorts. Before I have time to make a comment, she turns away from me and pulls her shorts and panties in one quick motion all the way to her ankles. Bent double, she smiles at me between her knees. My hand snaps photos, but I am not looking at the screen. My eyes marvel at the sight of her gleaming white buttocks, smooth and round atop strong hamstrings pulled tight in a pike position. And of course, the direct sunlight revealing every beautiful detail of her hairless anus and vulva. I find myself drawn forward by an irrepressible desire to bury my face between her cheeks, to greedily lick her from clitoris to anus, but my fantasy will have to wait. Before I'm even within arm's reach, she is standing straight and adjusting her shorts.

"That's fun, huh?" She beams, apparently as surprised as I am at her courage.

When I reach her, I take the back of her neck in my hand and pull her lips to mine. I want to take her clothes off right now and make love to her on top of this mountain, but I settle for a minute of passionate tongue play.

"You're the best," I say, smiling.

"You started it," she retorts.

"I'm sure glad I did!" I exclaim. "Shall we go get naked?"

"That sounds fun," she confirms coyly.

We begin our walk back down the rocky trail with noticeably more spring in our step. the sun is just as high and the air just as still, but descending takes much less energy. Even still, the heat simply begs for us to shed our sweaty clothes. I follow close behind her, watching her glutes flex and bounce as she strides down the trail towards the road. I imagine her walking this trail naked, the freckles on her shoulders giving way to smooth cream skin covering the rippling muscles along her back and the glutes that wrap around her womanly hips.

As we turn onto the asphalt, I ask, "Do you think anyone else will be there?"

She ponders a second, then responds, "I hope not. I hope we have it all to ourselves."

I smile at her, catching the suggestion and respond, "Well, I haven't seen anyone else up here, so maybe it will be our lucky day."

"Maybe," she says, "But don't get your hopes up. I'm not giving you a blowjob while people are watching."

"So does that mean you will if they're not watching?" I ask hopefully.

"Maybe," is all she says.

We are approaching the bend with the sign pointing to the beach. A pair of burly men in tank tops and sunglasses emerge from the woods, apparently having just visited the beach where we are headed. They turn downhill and do not look up to see us approaching.

"Good timing," I say, "I'm not sure I'd want to be getting naked with those meatheads."

"Yeah," my wife agrees, "But maybe it's popular."

"I guess we'll see," I respond.

We pass the sign and follow a dirt trail into the trees. Under the canopy, the air is noticeably cooler. We are at the top of a steep hill. The trail soon diverges, and it's not clear which way to go.

"Right?" I guess.

"Uh, sure?" comes the response.

"I guess we just need to keep going downhill," I offer, and soon it becomes clear that the slope is crisscrossed with paths like the area has been traversed by many people. We slowly make our way downward, cutting this way and that to follow the most amenable trails, and I soon spot the sparkling of water through the trees.

It's not long before we reach the bottom and find ourselves under a row of trees at the water's edge. Under the branches, I can see the sleepy town with its characteristic red roofs across the bay. Boats cross the harbor, some with sails, others with motors. I can barely make out some people along the promenade where the town's shops are. On this side, we are apparently alone.

"I guess this is it," I say, looking for some sort of confirmation that this is actually the nude beach.

"Maybe," my wife isn't convinced.

"Well, either way, there's no one here," I say as I pull off my shirt.

"What if it's not?" she asks nervously.

"We've got to be close enough," I say hanging my shirt on a tree branch.

"Well, maybe," she looks around for where we might need to go, but I'm already pulling my shorts and boxer briefs off over my shoes.

"I think this is just great," I state proudly, spreading my legs and letting the gentle breeze kiss my sweaty genitals. It feels magnificent. I suddenly feel that my clothes had been incredibly restricting now that I can hang free in the fresh air.

"Ok, I guess we're doing this," she has run out of excuses.

"Yeah, what are you waiting for? You're missing out!"

"Ok! Ok!" she concedes, pulling off her shirt.

I fish the phone out of the pocket of my shorts hanging on the tree and snap a couple selfies as my wife undresses beside me.

"Making sure we remember this?" she asks as she starts to pull off her shorts.

"I have a feeling we won't need much help remembering," I respond, but continue taking pictures. "But I can never have too many naked pictures of my sexy wife!" I turn the camera directly towards her and snap a few as she bends to pull off her shorts over her sandals.

"Is this sexy?" she asks as she hangs her clothes on the tree beside mine.

"Yes," I respond with a smile.

"Ugh, you think everything I do naked is sexy." she groans.

"Well, yeah! It is!"

"How about this?" she asks as she cocks out one knee, leans back, and uses both hands to spread her labia for the camera.

I snap furiously, capturing her exposed clitoris and delicate inner lips that are normally hidden. "Oh yeah! Work it!" I encourage, but she is done with the jest.

"Ugh, you're ridiculous," she rolls her eyes. "I want to see what's over here."

She starts walking away from me along the trail under the trees. I tuck my phone back into my shorts hanging on the tree and trot after her, noticing that my member swings a bit more heavily now that I don't have to imagine watching my wife's thick round glutes jiggle as she walks. I hustle up to her, taking one glute firmly in my hand and holding it as we walk.

"You like my pale white butt in the sunshine?" she asks.

"I love your pale white butt in the sunshine," I confirm.

We follow the water along a gentle bend. The shore is jagged and rocky. A trail winds between olive trees, scraggly things clinging to the rocky soil. We step down a natural staircase to just above the water line. A bushy tree gives us shade and a bit of concealment from anyone who may be up the hill from us, not that we need it. We cannot see nor hear any sign of other nude sunbathers, and the small figures across the bay are too far to notice even our pale skin that so seldom sees this kind of sun.

We stop to gaze across the water. It looks to be cropped out of a travel magazine. I stand behind my wife, my arms wrapped around her, and we stare together at the picturesque destination we have been exploring the last few days. She holds my arms and rests her head against my chest, and I kiss her neck. Her glutes press into my crotch and excite me all the more. As I kiss my way down her neck, she lets out a soft hum, a smile clearly on her lips.

"Is this getting you excited?" she asks.

"Mmhmm," I respond. "Can you feel me getting excited?"

"Mmhmm," she confirms, pressing her butt into my swelling shaft.

"I'm pretty sure we have the beach to ourselves today," I hint.

"Should we?" she asks with a touch of hesitation.

"I want you," I state unequivocally.

I step back to the bottom "stair" and sit, pulling her to me as she turns to face me. "Come here," I beckon. She steps up to me, spreading her feet to go around my legs. I encourage one leg to step up beside me with a hand on the back of her thigh. She steps up with one foot, now straddling me, her crotch at the level of my face. I lean in and plant a gentle kiss where her lips meet, inhaling the mixture of her sex and the salty sea air. She holds my head partly for stability and partly to keep my mouth right where it is. I press into her, massaging her lips with mine. I kiss my way to the crease of her groin of the raised leg and back across her vulva to the standing leg, then back again. I nibble at each of her labia, down as far as I can reach and back up to go down the other side again. Her hands caress my scalp, my hands grip her buttocks. She leans into me, begging for more. I allow my tongue to trace the edges of her labia, tasting her now-flowing juices. She pulls on my head giving the clear signal that the teasing needs to stop. My tongue parts her lips, gliding along her inside from her opening to her clitoris, careful to go around her sensitive urethra.

She lets out a moan of pleasure as my tongue begins to circle her clitoris. Around and around I swirl, just grazing her sensitive glans with each pass. Her breathing increases, but my pace stays steady. Around and around with ever so slightly more pressure.

"Oh, that feels amazing," she breathes. I simply hum an affirmation while my tongue continues to swirl. A hand slowly traces its way under her lifted leg, and I begin to wet my fingertips in the fluids that are now running down her labia. My fingertips lightly massage her opening while my mouth continues its swirling rhythm. One finger makes its way inside, pushing hard against her g-spot. The pressure is right where she wants it. I hold my hand steady, one finger inside, the others gripping the underside of glutes, and she begins to gyrate her hips. It is the smallest of motions, just enough to feel the changing pressure of my finger inside her. She pushes her vulva harder into my lips, my tongue swirling steadily around her clitoris.

"Oh, yes," she gasps between moans of pleasure. I have always struggled to get her over the edge with my mouth, but I can sense that the orgasm is building. Her gyrating hips move unevenly, her fingers dig into my scalp. I think she might get there, but her pace slows and her grip loosens.

"I need you inside me," she whispers, out of breath. I look up at her as I pull my mouth away. She smiles down at me as she steps her leg down. Her fluids cover my face, and my throbbing erection belies my excitement. I savor the moment, my finger still gently massaging her g-spot, as I stare her naked figure outlined by the pure blue Mediterranean sky, her face full of lust. My genitals throb, eager to fill her up.

I stand to meet her wanting mouth with mine. She grinds her pelvis against my hand as we make out. I inhale the scent of her sex, our spit, and the sweet sea breeze. Her kiss is distracted, her attention on the intruder between her legs. I slide out of her, and she sighs with a touch of disappointment.

I step over to a rock about the height of a low barstool and lean back. She follows hesitatingly, unsure how this ought to work. I beckon her with one hand while the other strokes my eager erection. She steps up to me, and I pull at one hip encouraging her to turn around. We are both now looking out over the harbor and the red roofs of the town. I gently pull her hips towards me, and she steps around my legs, bringing her butt to just above my crotch. She places a hand on a rock to steady herself as I guide her hips to just close enough for me to start to rub her vulva with my head. I circle her entrance, spreading her fluids all over my throbbing pink glans. When I am well lubricated, I tug again at her hip, signaling her to sit back. She slowly engulfs my full length, and we groan together in the release of the building anticipation.

"You feel so good inside me," she says barely above a whisper. As she adjusts to my presence, she begins to grind her hips back and forth. Her legs are too extended to pump up and down, but the back and forth is what she needs to get her there. My hands caress her belly and up to her breasts, where my fingers start to circle her firm nipples. I kiss her neck and back, tasting a touch of salt. The heat and her excitement have started her sweating. I look over her shoulder at the crystal blue water and brilliant blue sky separated by the island plucked straight from a storybook. It's like watching a moving painting as sailboats cross the harbor and the tiny figures of people stroll along the shore.

The view, the scent of the sea, the sound of waves lightly lapping at the rocks, the taste of my wife's sex and sweat, and the sensation of her weight on my pelvis and my shaft being massaged and bent inside of her; it's more than any dream could ever offer.

Something large is moving in the painting. A wall of white steel drifts in front of the town from behind a cliff. It is the ferry that brings the island's freight and a few hundred passengers, and they are headed right for us. I realize that our secluded spot is near the entrance to the bay. They'll pass right in front of us. I can already see passengers milling about on the sun deck.

My wife makes no reaction. She must have her eyes closes, focused on the sensation. Her free hand is between her legs, massaging her clitoris. I know she's close. All the right places are getting the stimulation they need. I try to focus on her and control myself. The approaching ferry has sent butterflies into my stomach, and it has nearly pushed me over the edge. My wife is now rubbing her clitoris furiously, and her breathing is quick and shaky. My fingers continue their steady massaging of her nipples.

Then the fury stops, and she lets out a groan of pleasure and grips my leg as the orgasm washes over her. I feel her contracting in spasms, gripping my shaft. She shakes and shudders with each wave of pleasure. She leans back against me, and my hands caress everything they can reach; her breasts, belly, neck, legs, and lightly along her lips spread open by my girth and dripping with her arousal.