My Naked Marathon with Amanda

1. Meeting an old friend

Her tits were what I first noticed about the pretty young woman with the bleached blonde hair who came walking toward me.

They moved up and down rather freely, seemingly unrestrained by any bra, as she strutted down the pedestrian zone on her high heels. Her short, bright green dress had a very low neckline and it seemed only a question of time before her nipples would liberate themselves into open air. Her arms, legs and shoulders were decorated with colourful tattoos.

She moved with confidence, but I did detect the effect of a few drinks in her walk. She seemed to contact everybody she met, ask them a question, receive a shrug or a headshake and continue her fascinating stride directly toward me. I hoped she would also talk to me. And she did.

It was a warm summer's night. Even after dark the temperature must have been around 25 degrees Celsius. I had been out for a few beers with old friends in my provincial hometown of Odense, Denmark and was heading for my parents' empty house. They were away on holiday and had left their home in my control.

"Oh, Svend! Can I please bum a cigarette?" she asked me with a tiny hint of a drunken slur. She touched my arm with the palm of her hand in a surprisingly intimate gesture. Her almond-shaped fingernails were painted bright red.

My eyes went from her hands to the literally outstanding tits and on to her face that was strikingly attractive despite her dark eye makeup that had started to run a bit. Her lips were covered with a thick layer of, slightly smeared, flaming red lipstick. It was all surrounded by shoulder length, bright blonde hair.

"Oh! I didn't realize it was you," I said, finally recognizing Amanda, whom I had dated briefly in high school seven years earlier. We hugged. Her scent was one of cigarettes, booze and perfume.

"I know. The boobs, the tattoos, the nails, the makeup, the hair. Right?" she said as we had let go of each other.

She lifted her breasts with both hands which almost made the nipples pass the neckline.

"Yes. Those are... larger than I remember them," I admitted.

"You like them?"

"Ehh... yes."

"Good! Can you believe? It took me three surgeries to get this big".

"It did?"

"Yes. If you want to move from an A cup to an E cup, you've got to do it gradually."

"It must have been expensive."

"It sure was. That kind of surgery is not covered by our yellow health insurance card."

"I guess not."

"And my surgeon here advised against the third operation. So I had to go to Hungary. Luckily, it's much cheaper down there."

"And are you happy with the result, Amanda?"

"Yes. Very."

"You have a lot of tattoos now..."

"I do," she smiled. "You like them?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any?"

"No."

"I thought so."

"But they look very nice on you."

"Thanks. You know... It's a great feeling when you walk into a room and everybody's eyes turn toward you."

"I can imagine they do."

"You bet! The surgery of course changed the whole weight distribution, and it took some getting used to. And you need to change your habits when you're this big. I mean, I used to play volleyball all the time... But even with the tightest of sports bras it's no use... You want to touch?"

"What?" I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"Do. You. Want. To. Touch. My. Boobs?" she repeated so loudly that a few people around us turned their heads in our direction.

In lack of an immediate reply from me, she pushed aside her shoulder straps and pulled down the dress to expose her tits. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her nipples so suddenly that my bike fell to the ground behind me with a loud noise that attracted even more attention. Her boobs were soft, but her nipples hard. So was my dick.

People stood around us, watching. A guy whistled but Amanda didn't react.

"You like it?" she smiled enticingly.

"Ehhh... yes. They're very nice," I said sheepishly as my mind was racing for a more intelligent comeback.

A fat guy with a beer bottle in his hand came up to us:

"Can I have a go at those too?" he asked, clearly drunk.

Amanda pulled up her dress and left my palms dangling in the air for a second:

"No. You can't. This is strictly invitation-only," she said.

"Too bad!" the guy commented and moved on peacefully. The crowd around us lost interest now that Amanda's tits were hastily stuffed back into the tight dress.

"You know, Svend, I really need that cigarette now!" Amanda said as I picked up my bike.

"Sorry, Amanda. I don't smoke. And I didn't know you did."

"I do. A lot. And normally I'd buy a pack. But the thing is that I just had a fight with my boyfriend, and I left everything at the house. And I don't want to go back there now."

"Would you like me to buy you some cigarettes?"

"If you could just lend me the money..."

"Sure. There's a 7-eleven right over there. I'm sure they sell cigarettes."

I parked my bike outside and locked it. Amanda was handed a pack of Camel Blue and a lighter and I paid for it with my card. She lit up while I unlocked the bike.

"Thank you, Svend! Just what I needed," she said, exhaling smoke. She squeezed in the cigarettes and lighter between her left boob and the tight dress.

I have this weakness for beautiful women who smoke. And my dick, which hadn't really turned soft and small since she placed my hands on her nipples, immediately reacted to her lighting the cigarette.

"You're welcome. You don't wear a bra, do you?"

"How observant of you. No. Not at the moment. I can tell you a bra is a good thing if you're a size E. But as I said... I had to leave the house very fast tonight. I just managed to put on this dress and grab the sandals."

Amanda took another deep inhale with demonstrative pleasure.

"So you were... naked when you found out that you had to leave?"

"Yes. We tend to fight after sex. But that's a long and complicated story..."

She blew out small clouds of smoke as she spoke.

"Sounds like it."

"I'm not wearing any panties either, by the way."

"You must have been in a real hurry."

"I was."

"And in case you were going to ask, I don't need to see proof of your not wearing panties. Or touch anything down there. Not here in the pedestrian zone, that is."

"Okay. Did I embarrass you before, Svend?"

"You... surprised me."

"Are you shy? Afraid of attention? I'm not."

"So I've noticed, Amanda."

She put her face so close to mine and pouted her lips.

"You want to go someplace else and have a look?"

Without waiting for an answer, she kissed me deeply and moved her soft, smoky tongue around in my mouth. My jeans were about to explode, which Amanda seemed to sense as she put one hand around the fly area while holding the other one with the burning cigarette around my neck. We kissed like that for a minute or two.

"Where are you headed now?" I asked as we finally let go of each other.

"Nowhere, really," she said, flipping off her long ash.

"So where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"I don't know," Amanda shrugged and inhaled from her cigarette.

"You want to come with me? To my parents' house... I mean... they're away on holiday. I'm housesitting."

"Can I?" Amanda exhaled smoke with a relieved smile.

"Of course."

We started walking.

"I heard you're in Copenhagen now?" she asked.

"Yes. What about you?"

"I never really left Odense."

"Okay. I just went out with Anders and Jonas tonight. We talked about you."

"Oh. What did you say about me?"

"Only nice things. I guess we were all in love with you back then. We wondered what had become of you?"

"Nothing much. I dropped out of uni. Twice. Got a daughter. Married and divorced. Waited tables. Cleaned at the hospital."

"You have a child?"

"I do."

"You've managed to stay in shape."

"I know," she said and exhaled a plume of smoke. "Except for the tits. They were drooping when I had breastfed. I first thought about surgery to tighten things a bit. And then I found out that my husband at the time... my ex... wanted to buy me E cup tits. He was obsessed with size. What about you?"

She looked at me while she took another drag from her cigarette.

"Me?" I must have flushed. "I like them big too."

Amanda laughed hoarsely as she exhaled smoke.

"I wasn't asking your opinion about my boobs. You already said you like them. I mean what are you doing these days."

"I hope to become a lawyer later this year."

"Really?"

"Yes. But no marriages, no children."

"A divorce is not exactly an accomplishment," she remarked.

"But you have a boyfriend now?"

"I don't know, really."

A few minutes later we reached my parents' villa bordering on the small river that runs through town.

I left the bike out front and unlocked the door. Amanda took off her sandals in the hallway and walked around in the house on bare feet with painted toenails.

"This is exactly as I remember it. Expensive and tasteful," she smiled.

"Would you like anything?" I asked.

"How about some white wine?"

"Sure. I think there's one in the fridge."

"I'm sure it's expensive. Can we please sit outside where I can smoke?"

"Yeah. Go ahead I'll just get the wine."

When I entered the terrace, Amanda had placed herself in the soft garden sofa and lit herself another cigarette. She was watching the stream of water that was quietly moving by at the end of the lawn. My parents own a very private garden. Only the occasional canoeist or kayaker would have a chance to peek into their garden. And right now, at one a.m., there were none. Which was probably good, as Amanda had taken off her dress and was completely nude in that sofa.

"I thought I would show you the rest of my tattoos," she smiled alluringly.

I put down the tray and gawked at her sexy body with the many big and small tattoos also on the parts of her belly, back and ass that had been covered by the short green dress.

"Makes you want to fuck me, doesn't it, Svend?" she asked and inhaled from her cigarette.

I desperately searched my brain for a cool comeback but was totally blank. So I just came up with a lame: "Yes."

"I thought so," she smiled, blew out smoke and ashed on the old saucer that I had put in front of her.

I put the peanut bowl and the wine glasses on the table and poured from the ice-cold bottle of Alsace wine before I sat down next to her on the soft sofa.

"Skål!" we said as we lifted our glasses simultaneously and drank.

"I was right about the wine. It's very good," Amanda said and put down her empty glass for me to fill.

She gulped down more wine.

"Do your parents still have that summer house by the water in Southern Jutland?"

"Yes. Why?" I asked, recalling that a hundred years ago I had taken non-smoking, not-yet-tattooed high school Amanda with the mid-brown hair and the short fingernails to my parents' summer house for a very nice weekend.

"And can you borrow the Audi that's parked out front?"

"Sure."

"Is the house in use right now?"

"I don't think so."

"Can we go there, Svend?" she asked and emptied her glass.

"What? Now?"

"No. Tomorrow. It's such a nice place. Can we go? Please!"

Apart from immediately ejaculating a load of semen into Amanda's shaven pussy there was nothing that I, at that moment, wanted more than spending a couple of days with her at the idyllic summer house at the German border.

"But you've probably got to get home and take care of your daughter."

"Don't worry about her. She's on vacation with her dad for another week."

"The guy who likes big boobs?"

"Yes. Just like you. I'm free to go anywhere right now."

"Okay. We could use the house," I said casually, trying not to reveal how great an idea I thought it was, and filled her glass again.

"Thank you, Svend!"

She leant forward, held my head with both hands and kissed me with her tongue. The smoke from the cigarette between her fingers came into my eyes, and my dick was about to explode inside my pants.

After a while she sat back, sipped some wine and butted out her smoked cigarette on the saucer.

"I hope you have a good double bed."

"In Copenhagen I do. Here I just have my old teenage bed."

"Oh. That's a shame. I don't remember it as particularly comfortable. Or big enough for two."

"You're right. But my parents have a nice double bed."

"Are you actually telling me that you plan to fuck me in your parents' bed, Svend?"

Amanda laughed and emptied her glass before lighting another cigarette.

"I'll go change the sheets," I said and got up immediately, suddenly nervous that I would miss the opportunity because I didn't have the right bed to fuck in.

"I'm sure you will, Svend," Amanda chuckled as I hurried into the house.

In my parents' bedroom I quickly removed their sheets, pillow and duvets and other personal stuff. I put on clean sheets and got pillows and a blanket from my old room.

As I returned to the terrace, Amanda was lying asleep in the sofa, her cigarette burning away on the saucer on the table. I put out the cigarette, picked her up and carried her to bed. She seemed to be in a deep sleep already. I put a blanket over her and lay down next to her, enjoying her scent.

2. Going to the summer house

I woke up with warm sunlight in my face and the smell of cigarette smoke in my nose. Amanda stood, naked, in the bright light at the open window.

"Did we fuck last night?" she asked as she discovered my open eyes.

"Ehh... No... We didn't. You fell asleep on the sofa on the deck and I carried you here."

"So you tugged me in. How sweet. Weren't you tempted?" she asked and inhaled from her cigarette.

"You were in a deep sleep. I don't know if I could have woken you up."

"You could have fucked me anyway," she said and directed her smoke out the window.

"No. I couldn't. Technically that would have been rape."

"You're such a gentleman, Svend. You know that?"

"I know the law."

"I forgot. You're a lawyer. But also a gentleman. I've made us crêpes for breakfast," she said, abruptly changing the subject and putting out the cigarette on the saucer in her hand.

We both got dressed. I had slept in my boxers and T-shirt and put on my jeans. Amanda slipped back into her dress.

"You want me to get you some underwear?" I offered.

"No thanks! I'm fine. It's enough that we spent the night in your parents' bed. I really don't want to run around in your mother' panties."

We enjoyed some cups of coffee and very nice thin crêpes with jam. Amanda put our dishes into the dishwasher as I packed a bag with the necessary stuff for a couple of days in the summer house at the fjord.

I pulled off the sheets we had slept on and clumsily tried to re-establish order in the bedroom before making sure that all windows and doors were closed and the stove switched off.

Amanda picked up her stilettos in the hallway and walked barefoot toward my parents' car while I locked the house.

"Can I drive? I've never been behind the wheel of an Audi," she yelled from the pavement next to the car.

"Be my guest!" I answered, unlocked the car remotely and threw her the key.

It was another hot, humid day in what seemed to be an endless heatwave. We put the aircon at full blast and drove off. Soon we were on the motorway. I had connected my smartphone to the car stereo, and Amanda had turned up the volume. She didn't hear me the first time when I pointed out the speed limit.

"It's 130 km/h on motorways."

"What???"

"The speed limit. It's 130."

"Oh. Right!" she conceded and lifted her bare foot slightly. Two minutes later she was back at 160.

When we had passed the Little Belt Bridge, it occurred to me that Amanda literally only had her dress, her sandals, and the cigarettes and lighter I had bought her. No credit card, no money, no phone and probably no driving license.

"What about your driving license, Amanda?" I asked.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"You left it at home, didn't you?"

"No."

"So you've got it with you somewhere?"

"No."

"I don't understand. Where is it?"

Amanda sighed.

"The police took it away. They said they detected THC."

"Detected what?"

"Weed. They said I had been smoking weed when they pulled me over."

"Had you?"

"No."

"You hadn't?"

"Well yes, of course. But that was days earlier. It was ridiculous."

"So you're not allowed to drive a car?"

"Not technically, no. But I enjoy it. And as you can see, I'm perfectly capable of driving. Even though I smoked a joint yesterday."

"You did?"

"Yes. And if I got caught now, they'd probably take away my license if I had one. And make me pay a lot of money. I mean, I'm still paying into this pointless payment plan for the last fine each month."

"Maybe I'd better drive," I suggested.

"I'm good at it, don't you think, Svend? Apart from that I have to stay in practice for when I can get back my license in two years."

"Could you please stop at the next reast area!"

"Boring lawyer! Okay! I'll stop. I need a cigarette anyway and I suppose I can't smoke in your parents' spotless car. And don't worry. It's just cigarettes. I haven't brought any weed. As a matter of fact, I haven't brought anything, as you know. But it's been really nice to drive this awesome Audi."

"I'm glad you liked it. Here comes the rest area."

I made sure to drive the rest of the way. Before reaching the house, we stopped at the nearest supermarket to stock up the fridge with food and drinks and get more cigarettes for Amanda.

The summer house was right at the water at an isolated spot at the entry to the Flensburg Fjord, the waterway dividing Southern Jutland and the North German State of Schleswig-Holstein. With today's zoning laws you would never get permission to build a house there. But there it was.

It was small, wooden and with a basic toilet and kitchen. It had electricity and running water but no shower, which really didn't matter because of the excellent, sandy beach a few meters from the porch.

"Oh. The kayaks. I remember those," Amanda said, as we inspected the shed next to the house.

"We could go for a small trip on the fjord," I suggested without wanting to sound too ambitious.

"Yeah. Let's do that!" she said to my surprise, adding: "I've never been in a kayak before."

I had considered the day way too hot for sports and had planned to relax in the sun and finally have sex with Amanda that afternoon. But that was not what she wanted. Suddenly she seemed set on a kayak trip. She enthusiastically made sandwiches for what seemed to be a whole day on the fjord and managed to squeeze her boobs into a life vest made for people of a heavier weight class. Before noon we were standing on the beach with our kayaks, ready for adventure.

3. Kayaking

Amanda soon got the hang of it. Considering her lack of previous experience, she was surprisingly good at paddling and manoeuvring. We had moved along the coast for some minutes when Amanda pointed across the fjord:

"I want to go over there!"

"Over there? But that's Germany."

"I figured."

"But we don't have our passports with us."

"Honestly! Do you think someone will check?"

"No. Probably not. But there's a shipping lane out there. In Flensburg at the bottom of the fjord there's a shipyard. So big ships come by here."

"I don't see any."

"No. But they're fast compared to us in our kayaks. I wouldn't want to be in the way of a big ship. The fjord is deeper than you think. Hitler had this naval base close to Flensburg. So his u-boats used to go in and out here."

"So there's Nazi gold in sunken u-boats here?"

"Maybe."

I smiled at Amanda's sudden interest.

"How far is it across?" she asked.

"I don't know."

"It seems so close."

"It isn't."

"Let me check. Give me your phone."