It was summer, back when my summers were times for adventure and wanderlust. I decided to visit my friend John who was living in Athens writing for an English-language newspaper. We were to spend a week on Skopelos, a sleepy Greek isle in the Sporades island group, famous for its wine. John and I were both single guys in our 20’s who were wine-drinking buddies from college who still liked to hang out together.
John and I were sharing a cheap hotel room overlooking the bay on the north of the island. The white stucco houses and acqua blue water recalled the vivid photographs one sees on travel calendars. We decided to charter a boat to get to one of the isolated beaches on an off-shore islet we’d read about.
On the wharf, we learned that we weren’t the only passengers on the boat. A couple, a 40-ish man and a 20-something woman were also going to the same island. We didn’t mind, especially when we got a look at the woman. She was drop dead gorgeous.
We boarded the 12-foot boat and made our way out of the harbor, watching the tiny Greek town recede from view. Gliding across the serene blue water, we introduced ourselves. The couple, Hans and Brigitte, were from the Netherlands. He was a photographer and she was a model. Hans was a bit heavy set and had a ready smile. Brigitte had a beautiful face, with a mane of light brown hair that graced her shoulders. She didn’t talk much but was friendly. I suspected she wasn’t as proficient in English as Hans.
My friend John was a surfer, from Southern California, and had the blond good looks that fit the stereotype. He was tall and strapping, with the broad shoulders that come from all that paddling. I was a swarthy, Italian-looking guy from New York, with brown curly hair and brown eyes.
After twenty minutes or so we reached the islet, a vast expanse of white sand and no people. Not one. Not a hut or a store for as far as the eye could see. We shouted to the boat driver and pointed at our watches to pick up us at 4. He seemed to understand and turned the speedboat to return to whence he came.
We had only a knapsack with our towels and some food we’d bought at a shop near the wharf. Since the beach was perfectly pristine where we landed, we just dropped our things there. I wondered if Hans and Brigitte would move down the beach to find their own spot, but they didn’t. They dropped their things near ours.
I pulled off my t-shirt, kicked off my flip flops, and lay on the hot sand. It was fine and white, not the coarse off-white sand you find on American beaches. As I felt the heat of the late-morning sun bake my back, I glanced over to Hans and Brigitte a few paces away.
Brigitte was slipping out of her short-shorts, giving her butt a wiggle to get the fabric down her legs. Her back was to me and when I saw the thong she was wearing my mouth almost fell open. Her ass was as close to perfect as any I had seen. Nary a blemish to be found.
Staring at her, a bit dumbstruck, I watched as she started to unbutton her blouse. When she turned to drop it in her bag, I saw her bare breasts. They were beautiful, high-sitting and firm, with delicate pink nipples. I remember thinking “is she going to put on a top? Wait, is she going to go topless? Yes!” I was young and horny and the idea of spending the day watching a topless model on a secluded beach was like a fantasy come true.
She arched her back and stretched with her elbows up in air, twisting her body from side to side. It was too much. Too good to be true. Laying on my stomach in the sand, I could feel my dick harden and grow. Shit, not I won’t be able to stand up. Great. I guess I’ll just have to lay here watching.
After cueing John to the happenings, I rested my head on my arms and watched her from behind my sunglasses. She was applying lotion now, on her long, graceful legs and downy arms, her stomach and her sides. Finally, she reached her breasts, rubbing the lotion along the sides, underneath, with special care to cover the nipples. Ah, to be those hands right now.
She got Hans to add lotion to her back and then she waded out to the water. She walked slightly sway backed with her fingertips gently touching the velvety water. Her eyes were closed as if to feel every sensation — the cool water, the caress of the ocean breeze on her skin, the warmth of the sun on her face. I was transfixed.
She turned and called to Hans in Dutch. I guessed she was asking himm to join her. She was splashing now, flicking drops of water onto her chest. The cool water made her skin rise in goose pimples. It made her nipples pert and hard. She spun in a little pirouette like a dancer on an antique music box. My erection was complete.
I could tell John was as mesmerized by all this as I was. He was lying on his back, raised on his elbows and watched appraisingly from behind his shades. I could see he had a hard on and he did nothing to hide it. John had the body of a swimsuit model. All that swimming, I guess. I had no insecurities about my looks, but John was in a class by himself. And he knew it.
Before long, John waded out into the water and lowered himself in up to his neck. She smiled at him, making no attempt to cover her breasts. She was very free and comfortable with her nudity, obviously. John chatted her up, made her laugh, flirted. He always had the gift with women. I was more the shy, reserved type.
Soon, Hans joined them and there they were, the three of them standing in a circle, chatting like a group of neighbors at a barbeque, except one of the neighbors was a fashion model wearing nothing but a thong. Otherwise, just a regular chat. I decided to join them and I hurriedly made my way into the water and submerged myself to avoid being seen with a raging hard-on.
Once in the group, I could really see Brigitte up close. My God, she was gorgeous! She had the perfect body, exquisite breasts, a flawless ass. And the best part about it was she was so free and open about it. There was an innocence that was as sexy as the physical attributes themselves.
We were talking about travel, where we’d been, what we’d seen. She was splashing water onto her shoulders and letting it drip down over her breasts. My hard on pressed against my swim suit and wouldn’t let up. I wanted more than anything to go au naturel and let my hard cock be enveloped by the velvety ocean. Alas, I wasn’t as free as Brigitte.
I decided to go for a swim, parallel to the beach, and before long the thoughts of Brigitte were replaced by the steady rhythm of my freestyle stroke. My erection subsided by the time I returned and I was able to walk back to our spot on the beach without embarassment. John was reading his book now and Hans and Brigitte were sunbathing on their towels. She was laying on her back, naturally, and her breasts were flattend on her chest, perfectly shaped, her skin glistening. What a world!
I spent most of that day staring at Brigitte, to be honest. Oh, we threw a frisbee, and I read my book too, but whenever I got a chance, I feasted on the sight of her phenomenal body. I had spent a majority of that day in a state of sexual arousal. I was a horny guy anyway, but this was too much.
At the end of the afternoon, after the boatman came to pick us up, Hans asked if we wanted to have dinner together. Absolutely! So we decided to meet them at their hotel in a couple of hours. We bade our farewells and parted on the wharf.
Back at our hotel, John was non-plussed. “What a fox!” he kept saying. “She is SO hot. Did you see her tits?” I agreed and we shared a beer on our balcony recapping the day.
Finally, at seven, it was time to meet Hans and Brigitte. We arrived at their hotel but didn’t see them in the lobby. After waiting a bit, we decided to call their room. Hans answered. “Come up to 103” he said buoyantly. So we did.
When we arrived at their room, there was a table filled with sliced meats, cheeses, kalamata olives, peasant bread, olive oil, and several bottles of wine. “We thought we’d eat in” Hans explained. Brigitte was dressed in a loose cottony blouse and short shorts. She smiled and poured us each a glass of wine.
Their hotel room was nicer than ours. It was spacious with french doors facing the sea. Long, sheer curtains billowed in the breeze. A large bed with a colorful coverlet graced the adjoining room. We sat at the table with glasses in hand.
Hans raised a toast. “To new friends!” he said heartily. He was in a jovial mood. He was regaling us with stories and laughing with full-throated guffaws. He had gotten a head start on the wine, it seems. We soon caught up and before long we all were laughing and feeling flushed from the red wine.
Hans continued to hold forth. “Come try the honey. Skopelos is famous for its honey.”
He opened a jar and dipped his finger in the golden brown syrup. “Oh, Hans” smiled Brigitte in mock disgust at his lack of manners. “What? We’re all friends here, right?” He pushed the jar to John and me and we each followed suit. It was sweet and viscous, delightful really.
“Do you know the very best way to eat honey?” Hans continued. “Here. Let me show you.”
With a mischevious grin on his face, he took the jar in his hand and turned to Brigitte. He dipped his finger in the honey and then, with the other hand, reached over to Brigitte and gently pulled her blouse off one shoulder, exposing one breast. He took his honeyed finger and slowly spread it over her nipple, circling it with a flourish. He then lowered his head to her breast and took the nipple in his mouth. For a few seconds he suckled her tit and then raised his head.
John and I watched in silent amazement. What happened next boggled our minds even more.
Hans reached over and pulled her blouse off the other shoulder, exposing the other breast. He then dipped his finger in the honey and rubbed on that nipple. Then he turned to John and me and said: “You try it. It tastes even better this way.”
I was frozen. It was one of those out of body moments where the surrealness of what’s happening makes you feel like you’re watching a movie. John, however, was not frozen in the slightest. The next thing I know, he’s kneeling next to Brigitte and taking her nipple in his mouth. He spent a good long time licking every bit of that honey off her breast and then finished with a smack. “You’re right” he proclaimed. “It’s definitely better.” Everyone laughed.
Hans took another serving of honey and applied it to the other breast, the one on my side. Happily, I took my turn.
As I approached her, I noticed the tiny slit in her nipple, the delicate bumps with encircled it, the pink ripe color. I paused a moment, struck by the beauty that is the female breast. She must have thought I was hesitating because she gently drew her shoulders back and raised her breast slightly towards my lips. “Suck me, please” she seemed to be saying.
I opened my mouth and closed my eyes and slowly, gently touched my lips to her nipple. I gently sucked it, taking the nipple between my lips and into my mouth. I sucked, letting my tongue slide over the nipple, around it, across it. I was tasting the honey, sure, but I was also tasting her, I wanting it to feel good for her.
Once I was finished, I lifted my head and looked in her face. She smiled. “Well done!” Hans bellowed and soon he was adding another dose for John. And then another one for me. Back and forth we sampled her honeyed breast until her nipples were standing up and out.
Hans got a glint in his eyes. He then honeyed both her breasts at once and soon John and I were sucking her simultaneously. I felt her hand in my hair, pulling me to her. There we were, the two of us, kneeling on either side of her, sucking her breasts, tonguing her big hard nipples, while she ran her fingers through our hair, pressing our faces against her breast.
I don’t know how long we were like that. I didn’t want it to stop. My heart was pounding and my cock was long and hard. When I lifted my face up, she was sitting with her back arched, her face flushed, her two full breasts moist and pink from our sucking. She never looked lovelier.
Then, Brigitte stood and silently walked into the adjoining bedroom.
“Is she alright?” I asked.
“She’s fine” answered Hans, refilling our glasses with wine.
Hans went on to explain about his and Brigitte’s relationship. They had met during a photo shoot. They were lovers initially but a back injury prevented him from being the lover he wanted to be. They developed an understanding that
for her to be happy, she should be loved by other men. Younger men. He was okay with this because he wanted her to be happy. And he didn’t want to lose her. Besides, he liked to watch.
“She’s in there waiting for you” he said, gesturing to the bedroom. “Both of you.”
I looked at John and he at me and there was never a moment of doubt in our minds what would happen next. My hard on was back in full glory, as it had been all day long. We both stood and made our way to the door.
“And you should know” Hans said quietly. “She likes to be taken.”
We paused a moment and then stepped into the bedroom. Brigitte was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back very straight. Her expression was one acute alertness, even apprehension.
“What do you want with me?” she said in a low voice.
John moved closer to her.
“We want to fuck you, Brigitte” he answered. He sat next to her on the bed.
“We want to fuck you. Both of us.”
She looked at him and at me, then back at him.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.
“First, we’re going to undress you. Then we’re going to touch you. And lick you. And we’re going to make you do things. Nasty things. And then we’re going to fuck you. Both of us. Til you can’t stand it any more.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her slowly back on the bed. She resisted, twisting her body and kicking her legs. He held her down by the shoulders, pressing his weight on her, while I took contol of her legs. My heart was pounding. She wants this, right? She’s okay with this, right?
I reached up and unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down her body. Then I pulled her thong panties until they too were off. She had a narrow strip of pubic hair that seemed to point directly to her pussy. Oh, that pussy! How I longed to be there.
While John held her and she thrashed from side to side, I moved in between her legs holding them apart with my arms. As I started to bury my face between her thighs, I caught a glimpse of Hans in the doorway. He was smiling.
I used all my strength to spread her legs and I started to lick the inside of her thighs. Almost instantly, the thrashing stopped, her resistence lessened. John was kissing her on the neck, whispering something to her. My tongue found its way to her pussy and I gave her a long stroke up her slit. It was so wet.
Her legs softened, not fighting at all now, as I began to explore her with my tongue. John’s hands had found her breasts, massaging them, tweaking her nipples. I felt her legs close around me, embracing me. She started to let out a whimpering sound. I sank my tongue deep inside her and she moaned. I flattened my tongue and let it slide over her clit. She opened her legs like a blossoming flower.
I noticed that Hans had moved to an easy chair in the corner. He was watching our every move. He also had his hand in his crotch, rubbing himself.
John was undressing now. Following his lead, I pulled off my shirt and dropped my shorts on the floor. He and I both had hard ons. I looked to John for a lead on what to do next.
He turned Brigitte over on her stomach so she was draped over the side of the bed. He pointed for me to go to the bed, next to her head, and he moved to her legs where I’d been. I watched him slide his fingers down her butt crack to her pussy. He began to finger her. Then he spread her legs, moved into position, took the tip of his cock and started to rub it on her wet pussy. She arched her back and let out a groan of pleasure. I climbed on the bed, facing her on my knees. She was laying on her stomach and I lifted her and slid under her so her arms were on my thighs, her face at my cock.
John was taking his time, rubbing his cockhead on her wet pussy, sliding it up and down the slit, rubbing against the clit. Finally, he pushed the swollen tip into her wet folds and let out a satisfied groan as it popped in. She gasped and her mouth fell open. That’s when I guided my hard on to her lips.
She opened her eyes and looked at my hard on. I’d been so hard for most of the day but never as big and hard as this. This was the culmination. Her eyes got big and she licked her lips. I put my hand behind her head and guided it to my awaiting cock. I felt her breath on the tip.
With her eyes on mine, she opened her lips and her tongue reached out to lick the tip with a long, slow stroke, as if on an ice cream cone. I shuddered with pleasure. She liked that and did it again. Then again. Then she licked the sides of my cock, rubbing her lips and cheeks on it, her hair, going up and down the shaft. She was making love to my cock with her face! That gorgeous face. Finally, her eyes met mine and she took my cock in her mouth, the whole tip, and swirled her tongue around it. I was in heaven.
Meanwhile, John was starting to push himself inside of her pussy. A bit at a time. I watched him push, and circle his hips, and push some more. He was slowly burying himself inside her and she was loving it. She raised her ass up to give him easier access, to take him deeper. Her body wanted him deeper.
While Brigitte sucked my cock, I surveyed the scene before me. Below me, this exquisite creature was splayed out before me, her legs spread and her back arched. Her mouth was wrapped around my rock hard cock, sliding it in and out. Behind her, big John was pumping her with his own cock, in and out of her dripping wet pussy. He was putting his whole body into it now and I could see his long, swollen cock slide from the tip all the way in and out again. In the corner, Hans had his pants open and was now stroking his own cock with relish.
Brigitte was getting fucked in her face and in her vadge but it wasn’t enough. She lifted her head off my cock, wiped her mouth, and said in her broken English:
“Hans. I want you too. I want three cock in me.”
Hans stood and came to the side of the bed. Thinking for a second, he quickly stepped into the next room and returned with a container of olive oil. He then took Brigitte and lay her down on the bed on her side. He directed John to lay next to her on his side, face to face. He told me to lay next to her, behind her. Brigitte was laying on her side with John and me facing her on either side. It was a Brigitte sandwich.
Next, he went to Brigitte’s side and poured some olive oil in his hand and let it drip onto her bum. He then took his finger and pressed it into her anus, sliding it slowly in past the first knuckle. Then the second. He took his time and made sure she was relaxing enough for something bigger.
“Now, we give Brigitte here what she wants” he said and lay down on the bed near her head. He was stroking her face with his hand. The mood was charged with excitement yet we were moving slowly, deliberately.
John started by lifting her leg over his hip. This created the opening he needed to start to slide his cock back into her pussy. My head was right next to hers and I could hear he catch her breath as John’s engorged tip pushed into her. When he pushed his cock inside her, her body quivered and she let out little gasps. He started to slowly stroke her, all the way in and out, rotating his hips, and she was moaning and writhing now.
My body was pressed against hers, my cock laying in the crack of her ass, sliding up and down the oily crevasse. Every time her body moved, and writhed, and shuddered, it sent electricity through my own. My hand was reaching around to feel her breasts when I felt the dripping of olive oil. Hans was lubricating her tits for me. It felt amazing to roll her big, hard, oily nipples in my fingers. I felt my cock throb. I was so hard.
Next, Hans positioned himself at the top of the bed, on his side so that his own cock was facing Brigitte. He was laying on his side, watching the three of us, and all she needed to do was to look up and his cock would be pressing against her lips. So she did. I watched her slowly take his fully erect cock into her mouth and start to rhythmically suck him, taking him deep into her throat.
Then, I reached down with my hands and spread her ass cheeks and pressed my own cock against her anus. I felt her arch her back and stick her ass out as if to say “Give it to me. Give me my third and final cock.”
The feeling of my cock pushing into her oiled ass was amazing. She was so tight. So wonderfully tight. When the tip of my cock popped inside her, I heard her moan even though her mouth was full of cock. I pressed it slowly into her. She kept moaning, louder. As my hard cock pierced her body, I could actually feel John’s cock going in and out of her. I looked at John and he was pumping her with abandon. I looked up and saw Brigitte deep throating Hans. I suck my cock deep into her and she began to shake. Brigitte had become a complete fucking machine.
I slid my hand from her breasts, down her stomach, to her crotch. My fingers drifted over her landing strip. She was rocking her pelvis, moving her pussy to the motion of John’s thrusts. My fingers found her wetness.
As their two bodies grinded together, I let my fingers slip into the folds. I could feel his hard cock sliding against my fingertips. I could feel him penetrating her, spreading her. He was sliding himself all the way in and all the way out, so the tip almost came out of her. My fingers could feel the contours of his cock and swollen head at the tip. It was intoxicating.
I reached down and felt the tender underside of his cock, letting it slide over my fingers as it entered her. I made my thumb and index finger into a circle, like an “OK” sign, and let him slide through it. He seemed to like it. When he pulled out of her, the head of his cock slowly squeezed through the oily circle. He let out a moan and pushed the head in and out of the tight circle my fingers made.
Turning my attention to her, my fingers soon found her clit and I pulled back the hood to expose the swollen flesh. As they fucked each other, I massaged her, paying attention to every whimper, every moan. As I rubbed it faster, she started to cry out, her orgasm approaching. That seemed to excite John because I could feel his thrusts quicken. He was impaling her with lightning quick thrusts. Each time he pounded her, it sent my own cock deeper in her ass.
Bridget arched her back, pressing her butt against my throbbing cock. Her breasts heaved outward and John cupped them in his hands, squeezing them. She had swallowed Hans completely. As my fingers worked her clit, Brigitte let out a loud cry and her body shook.
She pulled her mouth off Hans and cried out with a hoarse moan:
“I cum! I cum! Cum in me! I want you cum in me!”
With that she swallowed Hans’ cock and took it down to the hilt. She wanted him to explode deep in her throat. He held her head and thrust himself into her. I could tell he was cumming, spraying the back of her throat with his cum.
I looked at John and he too had reached the point of no return. He face twisted in a grimace and I saw him thrust violently into her, again and again, sinking his long cock into her pussy. I could feel his hardness sliding in and out of her. So fast. So deep. So hard. He cried out as he came.
Finally, it was my turn. Her ass felt like the tightest, hottest pussy I’d ever felt. I looked down at her perfect ass and couldn’t believe I was fucking it. I slid my cock deep in her and out again. The oil made it so smooth and sensual. I reached around and grabbed her breast in my hands, her nipples between my fingers. John took over her clitoris and rubbed it in fast strokes. She cried out again and began to shake like a machine gone hairwire. She let out a shriek of ecstasy. It was the perfect moment to come and I felt the electricity rush through my limbs and concentrate in my cock. I exploded inside her ass. It felt like buckets of cum, built up through the day, were pouring out of me. Into her. Filling her. Fucking her. Having her.
It was the greatest single orgasm of my life.
As the week went on, the four of us had other adventures on that remote Greek island. That’s summer for you. But I’ll have to save that for another time.