Sun, Sand and Skin: Day 01

"Busted!"

Dan put down the controller of the Playstation but it was clearly too late.

"Hey!" he protested. "I'm packed, I've tidied up, I'm allowed to relax."

"So why the guilty conscience?" Emma asked, closing the front door of their flat behind her.

"Okay, maybe I'm not totally packed," he admitted. "But never mind that: did you get everything from the Post Office?"

"Yep," said Emma, lifting the multiple packages she'd collected. "Just in time."

"And there are some new bikinis in there?"

"Yep," repeated Emma, her smile growing. "Bikinis and a few other things. But don't think I haven't noticed you trying to change the subject. And because you promised - promised! - you would be packed when I got back, I'm not going to model them for you now."

A whirl of emotions flooded Dan. He'd half expected his girlfriend to return empty handed; he couldn't quite believe she'd actually gone on an internet spending spree for sexy swimwear. Emma usually wore a one piece and he'd had to cajole her into branching out for their holiday. At first he'd made it a joke: "Ali said we were only allowed one suitcase so we have to pack light."

Emma had arched an eyebrow and ignored him. But Dan had planted the seed in his own mind and it had taken root. He realised he really wanted to see his gorgeous girlfriend in some more revealing swimwear.

"Come on, babe, it's the south of France, not the local leisure centre. Maybe a couple of bikinis would make it more fun."

"For who?" Clearly the seed had not been planted for Emma.

"You don't have to wear them at the beach. Ryan's parents' place has a pool, right? You could just wear them there. No one would see."

"Ryan would see!"

"So your boyfriend, your best friend and your best friend's boyfriend. You wouldn't exactly be on public display."

"Okay, okay, I get it, I'm a prude."

Dan immediately backed off, sensing danger.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Your body, your choice," he said, drawing her into a hug. "But you've got a great body! I totally get why you usually wear a one-piece but it's going to be absolutely boiling over there and being on holiday is a chance to relax and be free."

"No, I'm the one who should say sorry," she said into his shoulder. "It's totally bloody normal to wear a bikini. I know that. But you know my hang ups. I just find it hard to relax when people are gawping at me."

The problem - and this very much depended on how you looked at it - was her boobs.

Emma had a classic English girl next door quality: tallish, lean frame, green eyes, rosy skin, long brown hair. A classic English girl next door quality... provided you lived next door to Lucy Pinder. Because, much to her chagrin, Emma had a phenomenal pair of breasts. It was a fact she had tried to escape from all her life and baggy cardigans, unflattering flannel shirts and sports bras had got her a long way to physical anonymity but even the most functional Adidas swimsuit laid her bounty bare. Covered completely up to her throat with her boobs compressed by padded black material, Emma's silhouette was still enough to turn heads.

As for when they were set free...

Dan remembered the first night she'd pulled off her oversized sweater and he'd unhooked her bra, allowing her extraordinary breasts to spill out. But 'spill' wasn't even the right word; they sat just as high, the bra seemingly camouflage rather than support. His mouth had gone completely dry, his dick completely hard.

After they had met, Dan had once come across a description of breasts as 'retrousse' in a book he was reading. This was in an allegedly highbrow novel but French made everything seem more classy. When he'd looked it up, he'd realised it meant the same as the more prosaic ski slope breasts. More Googling had led him to the perfect ratio: 45/55. 45 percent of the breast above the nipple, 55 percent below with the nipple pointing upwards at roughly 20 degrees. Dan had always been a humanities man but this was the sort of science he could get on board with. And Emma combined the magic ratio for 'beckoning breast' with sheer mass.

In short, her breasts were a miracle of nature and one that it seemed he had finally persuaded her to share with the world. Or, at least, a small subset of the world in the South of France. Although, Dan reflected, it might be more accurate to say Ali had persuaded her.

Ali was a petite and frankly stunning British-Chinese woman on the same life sciences research fellowship as Emma at Imperial. The pair had quickly progressed from colleagues to confidants to best friends. Dan often wondered what it was like in the lab: a sea of geeks and then this pair of sexy scientists with an intimidating combo of brains and beauty. But besides being aware of her unavoidable hotness, Dan didn't know Ali that well as the journey between their flats was really annoying so mostly the girls hung out after work or went into town. It was after one such night out last week that Emma appeared home just as Dan was starting to get worried.

"I thought you were just going to have a couple. You must have stayed till last orders." He tried not to sound like a scold but Emma was oblivious.

She grinned and plonked herself down on the sofa next to him. Her body language definitely suggested she'd made full use of the bar.

"Sorry, dad," she said, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek. "You know how it is. One thing led to another. We were talking about the holiday and, you know, stuff and time got away from us."

"Ah," said Dan. "Stuff."

"Yes, stuff, you bastard," she said, launching herself onto him. "Now stop taking the piss and get me a G and T."

"It's almost midnight! And do you really need another? We've got work tomorrow."

"Fiiiiiiiiine, you can rub my feet instead," she said, dumping her legs in his lap. "Anyway, you know you were talking about getting some bikinis for the holiday?"

Dan did know. He quickly started rubbing her sweaty little feet.

"Ali said the same thing as you."

Dan made a mental note to buy Ali a pint.

"Oh yeah?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"She's just bought some new ones."

"Oh yeah?" he repeated.

"She showed me the pictures and sent me the links. They are a bit different to my swimwear. A lot smaller."

"Oh yeah?" he repeated again, mouth slightly drier.

"Yeah, Oscar Wilde. Anyway, I asked if she felt embarrassed wearing them. She said she felt like a goddess. Wow! I was so, like, jealous and proud of her. She was so confident of herself as a woman that it made me feel a bit silly. And then she started buttering me up." Emma blushed. "Like, I know I've got quite a nice body. But she was, um, a bit saucy. Well, pretty filthy actually. God, you should have got me that G and T; I'm getting all embarrassed and flustered just thinking about it. Basically Ali said it would be a crime against nature to keep this bodacious bod under wraps."

That's another pint for Ali, thought Dan.

"So yeah, peer pressure works. I've bookmarked those links." Emma paused. The corner of her mouth quirked; she knew she was about to be naughty. "Besides, its not fair, is it? You'll be getting an eyeful of Ali in her bikini so what about poor Ryan?"

"I thought you didn't want poor Ryan to get an eyeful?" Dan raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I didn't. I mean, I don't. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you want an eyeful of Ali?"

"I want an eyeful of you." Dan mentally high fived himself for his quick thinking; he couldn't wait to see Ali in a bikini.

Emma smiled. "That can be arranged."

They had both been naked within minutes. They hadn't even gone into the bedroom, just made love right there on the sofa he was currently sat on. He owed Ali a pint for that too.

"Come on, let's finish packing," Emma said, breaking him out of his reverie and waggling one of the packages at him. "I promise these won't take up much space."

***

"It's such an annoying time for a flight," moaned Dan as he heaved their suitcase up the stairs of the tube. They might have packed light but the case was still bloody heavy.

"Since the alternative meant being at Stansted at 4am, I'm gonna say there were more annoying possibilities."

"But you basically lose the whole day to travelling this way."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you have big plans today? Maybe playing on your Playstation?"

"Okay, okay, I'm moaning, I know. I just hate travelling."

"No one likes travelling," said Emma, ruffling his hair as they reached the platform. "But the tube journey will be over soon and we will be on the train and then the train journey will be over and we will be at the airport and then the plan journey will be over and we'll have arrived. A week's accommodation in the South of France for free!"

"You're right," said Dan with a smile. And she was. Before he knew it - and with only a bit more lugging of suitcases - they were at Stansted and were heading smoothly through security.

They had arranged to meet Ali and Ryan at the gate and the other couple had beaten them to it. "Hey!" yelled Emma in excitement when she spotted them, waving frantically.

Ali squealed and waved back and then, on some secret girl signal, the pair ran to greet each other.

Ali was wearing the same outfit that Dan had always seen her in: Nikes, leggings and a hoodie. As she reached up to embrace the half foot higher Emma, her sweatshirt rode up revealing the curve of her small but perfectly formed bum perched above a mouthwatering thigh gap. Because Ali's signature attire wasn't just leggings but skintight leggings that looked like they had been lacquered onto her body, hugging every contour of her buttocks. Which also highlighted the presumed fourth ever present item of her wardrobe: a thong. The leggings swooped round her petite curves and plunged into the crack of her arse utterly unimpeded by any visible underwear.

All this ran through Dan's mind in a millisecond before he made a conscious effort to raise his gaze. He lifted a hand in greeting to Ryan and walked over to join him. As he did so, he realised with a twinge of embarrassment that they were both wearing navy polo shirts but that Ryan's was expensively branded whereas his was from Uniqlo.

The two boyfriends looked on in bemusement as their girlfriends continued their reunion. "Didn't you guys see each other yesterday?" Ryan said.

"What is it with men?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes at Ali. "Going on holiday is exciting! Going abroad is double exciting! The last time I went to the beach was in Britain so it was all shingle and I had to wear a cagoule. France has got sun and sand, right?

"Yep, you definitely won't need a cagoule. In fact, you won't need anything at all at the local beach. It is clothing optional."

Dan's mind suddenly jumped back to Emma's comment about giving Ryan an eyeful.

Emma blushed and Ali elbowed Ryan. "You've embarrassed her!"

"Don't blame me," said Ryan. "Blame the French."

"I'm not sure when I'll make it to the beach though," continued Ryan ruefully. "My parents have given me a 'to do' list as long as my arm so I'll be ready to start the holiday on, ooh, Wednesday or so."

"I'm pretty sure you'll have some fun, babe," Ali said.

"Yeah, it's going to be awesome," said Emma. "Thanks so much for inviting us. There is no way we'd have been able to afford a holiday abroad this year otherwise."

"No problem. My parents don't like Air BnBing it so it is nice to be able to make use of the place. It was my brother's turn to have it but he had other plans."

"Hey," said Ali suddenly, looking at Emma and Dan. "We should swap?"

Dan almost had a heart attack. Did she mean...?

"What's your seat number, Emma? We should sit together and the boys can get to know each other a bit better.

"Great idea! We are 28 E and F."

"Appropriate," Ryan laughed.

Dan didn't get the joke but it seemed like Ali did because she gave him a mock scowl. If Ryan noticed, he was unconcerned. "Sounds like it is decided then," he said to Dan.

"Er, I guess so," said Dan as the tannoy announced boarding. After a bit more queuing and luggage logistics, he found himself seated next to Ryan at the back of the plane, several rows behind their girlfriends.

"Ah, that's better," he said. "Once you are on the plane, it starts to feel like an actual holiday."

"I know what you mean," said Ryan. "Well, it's a short flight and the airport at the other end is tiny so we should be straight out. Then it's not long in the car - like, half an hour - but then we can just chill. There will be food in the house for a store cupboard dinner but I suggest we walk down the road to the local bistro."

"Sounds good."

The pair soon fell into easy chat; perhaps the girls had been right to impose this forced bonding session. The only slightly awkward bit was when they talked about their jobs. Ryan didn't actually say anything about his salary but Dan quickly intuited that Ali's boyfriend earnt at least three times as much as he did. He'd have liked to have consoled himself with the fact Ryan's job as a management consultant was soulless but actually it sounded a lot more interesting than his own. Dan had got into publishing because of his love of literature but he spent most of his time on admin. Low paid drudgery was not exactly how he'd pictured life after graduating.

But that was a blip and Ryan had that public school confidence to skate over it an ensure the conversation flowed smoothly onto films and music and cricket. The only other interruption came when a particularly attractive stewardess offered them drinks. Ryan winked at her as he ordered, causing her to smile and blush slightly. Dan could never imagine himself doing that in a million years and he would usually have found it a douche move. But while Ryan was handsome enough to pull it off, he was somehow annoyingly charming rather than cocky. Dan tried not to get an inferiority complex.

***

"Passports ready," called Ryan over his shoulder as they crossed the boiling concourse.

"Yes, dad," replied Emma in a sing-song voice. She winked at Dan and Ali giggled.

Ryan good naturedly flicked Emma the Vs but then proceeded to steer them effortlessly through passport control, baggage reclaim and car hire very much like the leader of the group. Dan did feel a bit like a child as he strapped himself into the back of the shiny rental Peugeot.

Then Emma reached across and squeezed his hand. Exciting, she mouthed at him with a big grin.

Ryan put on some music and the journey passed in companionable silence, everyone watching the landscape out the window and feeling that special contentment that comes with starting a holiday. The view quickly changed from arid, desert-like fields to avenues of trees to winding, almost medieval streets.

"We're here!" Ryan said triumphantly. "Now, where is that bloody clicker..."

He had stopped the car in a narrow street hemmed in by looming brick and stone walls studded with dark doors and heavily shuttered windows. They were outside a garage door built seemingly straight into an old stone wall that was at least eight feet tall.

Ryan found the fob in his manbag and pressed the button. The door swung upwards. After the blazing sunshine, it seemed incredibly dark as they pulled into the garage.

Through a door, the garage opened out into a surprisingly large courtyard-like garden with a swimming pool, water features, terraces and what even looked like a separate hot tub. It was flooded with sunlight but totally private, enclosed by walls and not overlooked.

"Oh wow, this is amazing! We don't even need to go to the beach," said Emma.

"Speak for yourself. You can't beat sun, sand and sea," replied Ali.

"And skin," Ryan said, winking at Dan.

"There is plenty of skin worth seeing here," Ali said with a mock pout.

Dan's thoughts immediately went to her new bikini collection. Just how much skin would she be showing? If it hadn't been for the conversation that Emma had relayed, he would have thought Ali's swimwear would have been pretty conversative. She certainly never showed any skin in the UK. But she probably had the opposite problem to Emma: she was shy about her small breasts. There was nothing wrong with small boobs though. Dan bet she had a dynamite little body and she was obviously prepared to be a bit more liberated on holiday. Emma had said her bikinis were small, but how small was small? How much of an eyeful was he going to get?

And how closely had Emma followed Ali's lead?

"You two are both gorgeous," said Ryan with a laugh. Dan wasn't entirely sure of the etiquette here but this seemed a pretty presumptive way to describe someone else's girlfriend. Okay, he'd just been thinking exactly the same but he hadn't said it. "But variety is the spice of life."

"I can assure you we are quite spicy," said Emma in a mock-posh voice, raising her chin to give him a haughty look.

"Oh, I can definitely believe that."

Dan was thinking he really needed to say something since the banter had basically turned into pure flirting when Ali moved the conversation on herself.

"Ooh, I just want to jump in now," she said, looking down into the pool. Dan couldn't help but agree; the rippling sun on the surface of the water looked incredibly inviting.

"There is plenty of time for that, babe. Let's just dump our stuff and head out for dinner."

They wheeled their luggage inside, Emma and Dan rubbernecking slightly at what was a seriously fancy holiday home. It was fully furnished to the level you'd expect for someone's actual house, not just a place to spend a couple of weeks a year. As they went past a bookshelf in the hall, Dan couldn't resist having a quick nosy. Yes, there was Dan Brown and Harry Potter but in French and they were accompanied by various Booker winners and modern classics. Money and taste, thought Dan to himself.

"I'll give you the tour later but let's go to our rooms first. Just up this way."

The house was old, the stairs narrow and Dan was tired from travelling. As he hefted their suitcase for yet another set of steps, he misjudged it and managed to bash the case into the wall with an embarrassingly large bang.

Ryan winced. "Do you want a hand with that?"

"No, I'm fine," said Dan, waving him away.

Ryan raised his hands in supplication. "Sure, sure."

"Just try not to trash the place quite yet, Dan," said Ali. She said it lightly and with a smile. But, Dan reflected with his head down, it was the first time she'd spoken to him directly this holiday and it was basically to tell him he was an idiot.

They stopped on the landing and Ryan held out a hand. "Okay, this is you. See you downstairs in thirty minutes."

"This is some place," said Dan after he'd closed the door behind them. "Ryan's parents must be absolutely loaded." Sure enough, the spare bedroom of Ryan's parents' holiday home was bigger than the bedroom in their flat. It even had an ensuite.

"I know, we are so lucky," said Emma, giving him a quick kiss. "I'm going to have a shower and change before dinner."

"I'm fine like this, right?"

"Yes, you are fine like that. But did you know that 'fine' is not necessarily the pinnacle of aesthetic achievement?"

Emma knelt down and unzipped their case as she was talking.

"Here is your enormous pile of clothes in case you change your mind." The modest pile probably accounted for a quarter of the case's capacity.

"Hey, I sacrificed my space for you!"

"How very noble," she said with a wink as she wheeled the case into the bathroom.

Dan shoved his clothes into a chest of drawers and then emptied his rucksack - books, phone charger, condoms, etc, etc - into the bedside cabinet. He lay on the bed and tried to read his current book but found himself re-reading the same paragraph again and again.