Hidden cove. Jagged rocks guard it. Waves pound relentlessly. Salt stings my skin. I storm down, fury exploding. Julien’s eyes devoured that brunette at dinner. Betrayal ignites me. Blood boils. I snap. ‘Want her number? Pay the bill. I’m out.’ Slam the door on his excuses. Half-hour hike. This spot’s mine. Secluded. Peace.
Dog barks. Irza tenses. Old guy appears. Claude. Sixty-five. Silver hair, fit body. Cyclist legs smooth-shaved. ‘Mind if I swim nude?’ Heart races. Adrenaline surges. ‘Do what you want.’ Stupid stammer. He strips fast. Lean muscles. No gut. Dives in. Emerges. Lies near me. Heat rises. I sweat in jeans.
The Mutation: Dropping the Mask
Talk sparks. Local spots. Banals flow. ‘Swim?’ ‘No suit.’ He grins. ‘Neither me.’ Laugh bursts. Free. Revenge on Julien flashes. Strip. Naked. Breeze kisses skin. Dive. Cold shock. Then bliss. No fabric. Pure sensation. Emerge. His towel wraps me. Tits exposed. He sits on rock. Polite. Hot.
Hand on his thigh. ‘Warm.’ He traps it between smooth legs. Pulse quickens. Soft skin. No erection. Tease? Five minutes. Freed. Afternoon blurs. Swims. Naturism chats. Strings more slutty than bare. Confidence builds. Power stirs. Check phone. 19h. Julien calls. Ignore. Dress. ‘Thanks. Changed my mood.’ ‘Tomorrow?’
Home. Shower salt off. ‘Swam nude. Alone.’ Julien perks. ‘Wish I’d seen.’ ‘Better than your slut?’ Separate beds. Alone. Fingers dive. Orgasms rip. Claude’s warmth haunts.
Morning. Julien out. Back with croissants. Reject. ‘Still mad. Thinking future.’ Stroll village. Hunger pulls. Cove calls. Towel packed. Strip. Prone. Sun warms ass. Doze.
The Exploit: Claiming Total Control
‘You’re burning.’ Claude. Lend XXL shirt. Covers barely. Swim nude. Trust surges. Shade rock. Spill guts. Fight. Baby hunt six months. Sobs rack. Arms around him. Tits crush chest. His cock hardens. Steel against me. Tears flow. Back stroke. Consolation.
Pull him down. Thighs spread wide. His mouth devours. Tongue lashes clit. Shivers explode. First orgasm crashes. Suck harder. Gasp escapes. Flip. Ass up. ‘Fuck me. Now.’ He thrusts slow. Builds. I buck. Faster. Command. ‘Harder.’ Grips hips. Pounds. Cries muffled. I accelerate. Grind back. Power surges. He unloads deep. Jets fill. Scream peaks. Fifth climax? Collapse. Bliss death.
Awkward wake. ‘My fault.’ ‘No. Mine.’ Five orgasms. Unmatched. ‘Reconcile. Bring him tomorrow.’ Evening. ‘Surprise tomorrow.’ Three days. Claude spies. Me bent over rock. Julien rams. ‘Deeper. Wreck me.’ He slips away.
Nine months. SMS. Baby pic. 3.4kg. Joy. ‘Unsure who’s dad.’ Secret pulses. Stronger. Unbreakable. Life mask on. Heroine inside roars.