Luigi's Pool

A few years ago, my wife Joan and I went to Italy with two other couples for the better part of two weeks. These were among our best friends, and we'd traveled with them a number of times before. We went to Tuscany specifically, starting in Florence for a few days and then on to Cortona for a week. The Town of Cortona is the setting for the book and subsequent movie "Under the Tuscan Sun," and it is truly a sweet and charming place. We rented a villa, which was really a very old, but nicely updated stone house, with a separate bedroom and bath for each couple. It was within walking distance to the town center yet having a lot of privacy from other homes, streets, or walkways.

Our host and manager of the place was the owners' son, Luigi, and he was a great young guy, giving us lots of local and nearby side trip suggestions. The common space was great for the six of us to gather, but we could also spread out and have some alone time to read and relax. The grounds were very secluded and included a lovely pool and sundeck above a terrace that was high enough to provide it a great degree of isolation from the house. It also provided a great scenic view of the valley below. We were there in late April, so it was starting to get warmer, though the pool water was still cool enough to not be overly inviting.

Toward the end of our week there, we were enjoying a whole day with no planned activities or excursions. Our group is good at everyone just doing their own thing, individually, as a couple, or in random groups of two or three. This day was by far the warmest we'd had all week, and in the early afternoon, I thought about that perfectly good pool going to waste.

I asked the group, "Is anyone else at all interested in joining me by the pool?" No one expressed even the slightest enthusiasm for that idea. I paused to let everyone think it over, asked again and still got no takers.

Since I was going to have my own private pool, I most likely startled our friends by announcing very clearly, "Just to be totally honest, since no one else is going to the pool, I'm planning to work on my 'all-over' tan up there." I assumed everyone knew exactly what I meant.

While my wife Joan knows me well enough to know I wasn't kidding, we'd never done anything involving nudity with this group. So, she pointedly warned the others that if anyone changed their mind, they'd best make their presence known before climbing the terrace or they might be offended. I was positive one couple wouldn't want anything to do with the pool now, after I proclaimed my dress code, and I figured the other guy was just slightly less disinterested.

I changed into my swimsuit and t-shirt, grabbed my book, a towel, some lotion, a couple of beers, and headed to the pool. It really was a great day to be in the sun, if maybe not the water. I pulled a lounge chair around so the back was toward the terrace from where any others walking outside would be approaching. I felt pretty safe being nude, especially after Joan's explicit warning to the others.

After stripping down, I lotioned-up paying special attention to the body parts that didn't normally see the sun, popped a beer, and started reading my book. After having settled in for half an hour or so I heard subtle, flip-flop induced footsteps on the stairs coming up the terrace. Then I heard a woman's voice softly calling, "Dave, is it OK if I come up?"

I recognized Mary's voice, and replied, "Sure, but remember I am naked." She was the one person in the group I thought would be most likely to join me, so I wasn't feeling compelled to put my suit back on and she didn't ask me to. My wife may also have considered joining me, but she likely feared others might be tempted to spy on us, and I didn't think she was amenable to them seeing her naked.

Mary was wearing a flattering, short, colorful print sundress that could also have doubled as a swimsuit coverup and she pulled another chair over near me. "Do you mind if I join you," she asked and was not one bit shy or subtle about scoping out all of me while we spoke. Her comfort level with my nudity confirmed that I didn't need to cover up. This was a side of her I never expected to see. In almost no time, she demonstrated that the "join me" meant more than just sharing the pool deck, by peeling off her intriguing sundress. It certainly wouldn't qualify as a swimsuit coverup since there was no swimsuit beneath it to cover-up.

I had never imagined I'd encounter a situation where I would see Mary nude, and she was every bit as beautiful without clothes as with. Her breasts were small and shapely, not unlike my wife's, and her nipples were just as responsive, either to the temperature, my eyes, or both. There is something truly breathtaking about seeing a woman friend you have known, admired, and found sexually attractive for years now standing before you naked. It was a fortuitous, electrifying experience I would always treasure.

I was astonished to see that she either shaved or waxed away her pubic hair and her bare cleft held my attention, maybe a little too long. She seemed a bit self-conscious over my interest in her bald pussy as she sat pulling her knees up to hide her pudendum.

"Does Bill know you were coming up here?" I asked, wondering if I was going to get immersed in a volatile situation between them.

"Not specifically," she replied, "I told him I was going out for a walk around the grounds."

"Will this cause a problem if he comes up here and finds us naked together?" I questioned, knowing how some men can be pretty territorial about their wives' or lovers' bodies.

"Probably no more than if Joan came up," she said with a coy little smile. That didn't help me much since I wasn't sure how either would react.

I suppose the smart thing for me to have done would have been to get dressed and take a walk of my own regardless of what Mary did. But we continued talking about how nice it was being outside "like this" and in such a beautiful and scenic place. I certainly was enjoying the excitement and openness of our conversation, as well as the immediate view of her excited breasts and by the fact she had put her knees back down.

After a while Mary turned over to sun her back, and after 15 minutes or so, she asked if I'd mind helping her by applying some suntan lotion to her back. This unexpected, very personal, and sensually tempting scenario seemed a lot like a set-up in the script for a low-budget, R-rated movie. I almost expected some disheveled "gumshoe" to jump out of a bush and yell, "Smile, you're on Candid Camera."

Despite my reservations, I was her friend, and she was merely asking for a favor. Moreover, I continued to appreciate this fortuitous opportunity to see her nude. I felt I could hardly say no to her request and went over toward her with bottle in hand. Starting with her shoulders I gently massaged the lotion into her now very warm and supple skin. She responded to the tactile sensations with nearly imperceptible sighing which kept me working my way lower on the backside of her body.

When I got to the area several inches below her waist, better judgement took over and I moved directly to lotion her alluring bare feet. She must have liked that too since the coos of contentment continued as I moved up her legs. She spread them wider so I could cover all the skin possibly exposed to the sun. My eyes were again focused on her very naked and now invitingly parted cleft. When my hands got close to those nether regions above her upper thighs, my good sense again kicked-in and I gently took her shapely ankles to put her legs together and announced, "There, how's that?"

"I think you missed the area that probably needs lotion the most," she said very matter-of-factually.

"I'm not sure if Bill or Joan would think that's a very good idea," I replied cautiously.

"Oh, Dave, for Pete's sake don't over-think this, I just don't want to burn my butt, nothing more. Put some lotion on me and you can lay back down," she uttered firmly. It almost seemed as if she were chastising me for daring to have sexual thoughts about her lovely, if not come-hither and nubile derrière. I did as I was told and didn't leave any bit of even the most vulnerable skin "un-lotioned." If my gentle touching of her back and legs had kindled such audible signs of physical pleasure, I was prepared for a much more dramatic response to my touching of her more intimate parts. While her breathing became faster and deeper, the absence of any reflex or recoil to my caressing touch was both surprising and reassuring that I hadn't crossed the line between doing her a simple favor and favoring my own doings.

We both relaxed for a while and in violation of her "don't over-think" edict, I did ponder why she couldn't have lotioned her own butt when I first thought better of doing it for her. But, trust me, I was not complaining about this oversight. And her "you missed a spot" admonition told me something about her tacit desires. Soon we'd both half-nodded-off for maybe 20 minutes, when without warning my wife, Joan and Mary's partner Bill appeared on the pool deck seeing us just as we were.

"I thought you got lost, Mary?" Bill asked maybe a little sharply.

Mary quickly turned on to her back and said not at all defensively, "No, I walked around for a while then decided it was a perfect day to lay in the sun too. And this is by far the best place to do that. Before I came up, I asked Dave if he minded if I joined him here, and he was OK with that."

"Since you weren't wearing anything under your dress, you must have planned to end up here and sun naked?" he added, sounding like a prosecutor cross-examining a hostile witness.

"I wasn't sure what I'd all want to do when I left to walk, but I wanted to be ready for the pool if I decided to get some sun. And it just didn't seem fair that Dave would be naked, and I wouldn't," she retorted, now maybe a little defensively.

Given Bill's demeanor, it seemed his seeing me and Mary naked together was like biting into an especially sour lemon for him. So, he clearly started thinking of a way to make proverbial "lemonade" out of an awkward situation. I was just glad Mary had rolled on to her back before he noticed the glint of the lotion I'd rubbed on her bottom.

"Well, Joan, don't you think its only fair for us to be naked now too?" Bill said, sounding somewhat hopeful that he'd found his personal recipe for that "lemonade."

Joan was clearly uncertain about what to say, while leaving some question whether she really wanted to get undressed among this audience. I figured she didn't want to come off as a prude, but it did seem like she was precisely calculating just how much Mary and I had been enjoying each other's nudity. Who knew, maybe she was the one to see Mary's glistening butt, and had a pretty good idea who was responsible for putting lotion on it? And maybe Joan was now thirsty for the "lemonade" Bill was gladly offering her too.

Bill kept eagerly encouraging Joan to strip and took off his own shirt and shoes, while waiting on her before considering his shorts. As he was looking back and forth between Mary and Joan, I knew he was seeking a way to trade "tit for tat" almost literally: his seeing Joan's tits for my seeing Mary's.

It wasn't hard for Joan to get the picture either. I half-expected her to look at me for some indication as to how to proceed, but I don't think my wishes counted for squat right then. Instead, she just looked at Bill, a smile went between them, and she very slowly and provocatively took off her tee-shirt and bra. Bill's search for "lemonade" seemed to have hardened to a taste for a "lemon drop martini," as he found Joan's bare breasts truly intoxicating.

She directed me to "go get me a chair." Joan has absolutely the most beautiful breasts, and Bill and I stood there speechless while we continued to admire them as she shed her shorts and panties.

"Go get a couple of chairs," she added to Bill and me, and we complied. The four of us proceeded to enjoy the next hour in the sun and getting increasingly more comfortable being naked together. As we each changed positions, we exposed more of ourselves and more intimately. I think we each were wondering if this was a one-off event, or an introduction to a new form of recreation for us.

We knew our two other travel companions would be getting anxious about our prolonged absence, and probably curious about whether we all had gathered at the pool. That would certainly raise the question of our group's dress code, given I had made mine clear. Knowing our friends as we did, we thought about just saying we that sat by the pool and not even mentioning what we wore. But given the length of time we were gone, we probably should have invited them to join us, unless we had good reason not to.

We dressed and went back in the house for cocktail hour.

"Were you all at the pool all this time?" Terry asked.

Joan responded that, "Mary walked for a while, then ended up at the pool. Bill and I took a long walk too before joining them."

"So, did you all work on your all-over tans?" Terry asked not quite restraining a smirk.

I don't think any of the four of us wanted to overtly lie, so I answered for us saying, "Mary gave me plenty of warning before she came up to the pool," I said trying to imply I'd put my suit back on. "After a while everyone else was at the pool, and time just got away from us." I hadn't lied, I just fudged the timing, and did a little sin of omission. I don't think Terry believed me, but he knew better than to pursue it further. That was the end of it.