The Ex-Olympian )Part 1) free porn video

In my job as a contract negotiator for a large mining company I’d been working hard long hours in their city office on a complex material supply and transport contract. But in the next couple of months the end of the negotiations was in sight. A successful outcome for all parties seemed imminent. It had been a couple of years since I’d had a holiday so now was the time to submit my application for a four week break to my boss. Being single I picked late spring, outside the school holidays. The boss approved my leave. Excellent! I phoned an acquaintance of mine who owned a beach house a few hours north of the city. I’d rented his place a couple of times before. He remembered me. Yes, the place was vacant when I wanted it. Yes, I could drop the rent money off to him that night. Again excellent! Now that I had my arrangements confirmed I was a happy man. In my few spare moments I was able to day dream about fishing, swimming, sun tanning and reading. Sure I’d be on my own but I was content with my own company. Besides, if I was lucky, I might bump into some congenial people at the beach. That had unexpectedly happened before and had proved to be an attractive interesting experience.

My afternoon reverie was interrupted by a business appointment in my office. I was happy enough to see Gail, a corporate public relations consultant facilitating my negotiations. While she was about ten years older than me, I was in my mid twenties, we related well to each other. Besides apart from a happy professional disposition, she possessed a gregarious positive personality. Just as importantly it was always easy to rest my eyes on her. Her build was big and strong. She was nearly two meters tall, and gave an impression of solid muscularity. As part of my professional interest in her role I knew some of her background, though she didn’t know that. She had been an Australian Olympic discus, shot put and hammer champion. I’d watched videos of her at the Olympics. Her build had been much heavier then. In the press she’d later, in retirement, achieved notoriety when she appeared before a parliamentary enquiry into d**gs in sport. Her forthright comments on historical events had shocked the nation. None of these facts bothered me. They were just part of her past that I knew about. I’d never mentioned them. Nor had she.

During our meeting Gail quickly detected I was more effervescent than usual. She enquired about my happiness and I told her of my holiday plans. Her remark that she wished she could afford a holiday started a chain of events that was to change our relationship for ever. I knew she was saving to buy an apartment. Jokingly I suggested she could easily afford this holiday. The rent was paid. All she had to do was finance food and alcohol, which she’d have to do anyway in any normal week at home.

Out of that casual discussion my holiday plans gradually included her. I took a few photos of my past visits to the bay to work for her to see. She applied for leave from her own company and it was approved. It was now confirmed, we were holidaying together at the beach house. Gail made one point clear early in our planning and preparation. While we obviously liked each other, and behaved professionally towards each other and were work friends, she wanted me to know that she wanted to maintain a platonic relationship with me even away from work for the four weeks. I knew she had no current male friend and I certainly had no particular girl friend at the time but her request was fine with me. I could go along with that without too many problems.

Arrangements were finalised over the remaining weeks and we left the city in my car early one Saturday morning. We stopped briefly in the small town not far from our ultimate destination and bought fresh bread and some salad rolls for lunch. And suddenly there it was in front of us, paradise!

The bay was a kilometre long curve of white sand fringed by low dunes. The access track from the nearby town passed along the back of the four cottages s**ttered behind the dunes, one cottage where the track reached the bay, two roughly in the middle, and the one I’d had rented at the far end of the track. Our cottage was the most isolated of the four, which suited me fine. As we slowly idled down the track on that Saturday morning we were pleased that all the places were obviously deserted. And then I noticed the power poles along the bush side of the track. Obviously electricity had arrived in this part of the world since my last visit.

I parked the car in the carport beside the large shed at the back of our cottage. Of one mind we both walked around to the front veranda. We both stood awestruck by the natural beauty of the place as we took in the view of our surroundings for the next four weeks. The day was fine and warm. There was no wind. The water looked cool, clear and unpolluted as small waves rolled onto the clean sand. Our end of the bay was the most sheltered from any wind, protected by a rocky headland that jutted far out into the water. And I already knew about a hundred meters off shore was a reef that both enhanced the fishing and kept the sea along the bay relatively calm.

I retrieved the keys from their hiding place and we opened up our holiday home. A small basic laundry, toilet, shower, washbasin, old wringer washing machine and a cupboard with cleaning equipment were just inside the back door. The living area was fairly large. The kitchen at the rear now had a small electric stove. A long table with lots of chairs was adjacent to the kitchen. We turned on the fridge and chest freezer then continued our inspection. The lounge was massive and directly accessible to the front door, the veranda facing the dunes and the water. The main bedroom was at the front of the house and the large double bed looked comfortable. The second bedroom was bigger with another double bed and plenty of single beds and a few bunks. There were still a few kero lanterns all already full of fuel about the place and I wondered about the reliability of the power supply. Fresh water came from a large rain tank out the back. I knew I’d have to check that later even though rain at this time of year was still likely. Now the luxury of a pressure tank had been added to the cottage, with an electric pump to lift the water from the main tank. At least we’d have decent showers.

The cottage seemed clean, the furniture protected by dust covers. We got busy and worked as a team, unpacked the car, changed into old clothes and organised our holiday home to suit the pair of us. I experienced some slight disappointment when Gail made up the double bed for herself in the second bedroom and hung her clothes in the wardrobe there. But she’d warned me so I moved on, determined not to let that arrangement spoil my holiday. It took us a couple of hours before we considered that we were finally happy with our abode. We took a late lunch break on the front veranda while we looked at the view.

Gail was a huge help when I turned my attention to the outside chores, moving the gas barbeque onto the veranda, checking the rain water tank, and getting the dingy and fishing gear out of the shed. Her strength helped. She was curious about the old copper in the backyard. I told her how it was better to cook crays and crabs there than inside the house, and I hoped by the next day to be able to demonstrate that fact.

I was particularly keen to get the four cray pots into the water before nightfall, to try our luck overnight. I baited them with scrap meat I’d bought from home. We slid the dingy into the water and I got Gail seated in the stern. She was like a school girl, excited about this adventure. I took my seat in the middle and slowly and erratically rowed out from the beach. Lack of practice was apparent. Gail soon understood why I’d told her she was the navigator. About a hundred meters from shore we saw the water colour change as we came over the reef. I backed off a few meters and we successfully laid out the string of pots. The plan was we’d check and rebait them each morning.

It was mid afternoon when we rolled the dingy upside down above the high water mark. “What now?” Gail asked. “How about a swim before we explore the beach,” I suggested. “I’ll go and change into my bathers,” she replied. “I’m going naked,” I told her. Gail looked askance at me. I explained our isolation and the unlikelihood anyone would see us; if they did so what, and informed her I was a nudist anyway. It seemed she did actually think about my comments. In an attempt to settle the matter, at least for myself, I stripped off my clothes, left them in an untidy heap on the sand, ran into the water, made a clumsy dive and commenced swimming towards the reef. When I paused for breath and looked back a now naked Gail had tentatively waded into the water. I swam back in and couldn’t help but admire her fantastic physique.

“Are you okay?” I asked solicitously. “No, I’m nervous,” she said. “Don’t be afraid of the water here,” I reassured her, “there is nothing here in inside the reef that will hurt you.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not the water I’m worried about. I just don’t like people seeing me naked.” “I promise I won’t look,” I facetiously told her. “No, I’m serious. I’m afraid what you’ll think,” she confessed sheepishly but with a touch of defiant anger. I saw she was serious and stood up in front of her in the shallows. It was obvious what aspect of her body bothered her. So we stood there together, facing each other and I told her, as briefly as I could, a true story about a friend, a lover of mine from a few years ago. The story was about Kat.

I told her how Kat’s last holiday before she died was right here on this beach with me. Kat was different too; and Gail had nothing to worry about compared to Kat. Gail’s self absorbed expression changed when I told her of Kat’s sickness, her diminutive stature and her dual physical sexuality. Kat was a hermaphrodite. She had a penis as well as a vagina. And she had been a brilliant, experimental and considerate lover. And her lover had been me. “So,” I explained to Gail with tears in my eyes from both the memory and the telling, “if I could accept, and in fact love, Kat’s physicality and so called deformities I can certainly accept your problem, without reservation, and without criticism. In fact I offer you my ongoing friendship and total support. I love and respect you as my friend. Okay?” My little speech ended and I held out my hand in peace. Gail took it. We shook. Then she stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks for that,” she said. “I needed that pep talk. And I’ll treat the trust you just placed in me with respect. Okay?’ Okay! “Now let’s go for a swim,” I suggested again.

The water was wonderful. We swam out and came back to the shallows. There we talked. Already it was apparent our relationship had changed. It had grown. The veneer was gone. There was now new respect, a new depth and meaning from trust given and accepted. Obviously Gail had shared her secret with very few people, even fewer males; and certainly with no work associates. And I had never before told anyone my story. Not that I was in any way ashamed. There had just never been anyone else worth telling it to. I held out my hand as we stood and splashed out of the shallows. Gail took it.

We dried ourselves off on the veranda. “Now how about we explore this beach?” I suggested. “Do we get dressed?” Gail asked. “No we go nude. Okay?” Surprisingly she agreed. I advised sun screen as we were both a bit fair and there was no point in getting burnt at the beginning of our holiday. Now Gail could understand the necessity of the huge pump container I’d put just outside the front door. “I’ll do your back if you’ll do mine,” I offered.

It was pleasant rubbing the sunscreen over her arms, neck and back. I was able to unobtrusively look at her physique without giving her offence. She was very tall and broad, and still retained defined musculature. Her backside was hard. I crouched behind her and worked the cream into her legs. Part of her so called problem was then obvious. Between her legs extraordinarily large labia hung downwards from the mound of her vulva. I moved in front of her and asked her to bend forward so I could protect her ears and face. I enjoyed her firm business like touch on my back and she showed care when she did my face. We each attended to the front of our own bodies and, clad in only hats and sun glasses, set off along the beach.

We strolled, looking at everything from shells to the neighbouring beach houses. Occasionally we held hands. It seemed we both benefited from the earlier discussion. Of course occasionally too I got to see and understand more of Gail’s physique without being rudely obvious. A couple of times she crouched down to look at shells. Her thighs were apart and her genitalia clearly visible. Her pudendum bulged in a massive mound. Large fat labia hung down in a waterfall of pink flesh many centimetres below her vulva, leaving it perpetually parted and gaping open. Her clitoris was the largest I’d ever seen. It was huge and long and thick; a cylindrical column of pink flesh, tipped by a round eyeless glans, protruded from a large fleshy hood. Flaccid, her clit was roughly equivalent to my little finger in thickness, and about half its length. Yes, I could now understand Gail’s self consciousness. With care and kindness I thought I could ensure our holiday together would be a happy one.

During our stroll I also got to admire her flat belly above a light brown curly triangle of hair, muscular legs, gorgeous backside and her two firm breasts. Comparatively speaking her boobs were of medium size. Gravity had not yet impacted them. Her olive areolae were large, tipped by thick brown nipples. It was easy to look at her when she spoke. Her face was handsome, her smile wide, brown eyes laughing. She wore her light brown brushed hair short. Overall she was an impressive physical package. I hoped inside where she lived she’d learn to relax, at least for the next four weeks.

The sun was not far above the horizon when we finally arrived “home.” We had a quick cold swim and washed off the surplus sunscreen, each scrubbing the other’s back. Gail was already less inhibited than she had been just some hours earlier. We agreed a rinse under the shower to wash off the salt water would make us feel more pleasant. I prepared the barbeque while she showered first. When I returned to my bedroom after my shower I found her moving her clothes into the wardrobe and her other odds and ends into the spare empty stand beside the bed. I must have had a questioning expression on my face that reflected my surprise. “At first I thought I was being wise and clever setting myself up in the other bedroom but after today I feel I was being a bit churlish and silly. I mean we’ve seen each other nude and sorted out a few personal issues. After all that it seems stupid to sleep in the other room and talk to you through the bloody walls. What do you think?” she asked. “I think it’s a good idea,” I answered waving my hand at her belongings, “and at least we’ll be able to talk without shouting at each other.” “Good,” she smiled, “we’ve settled that easily enough.”

We sat on the veranda in T-shirts and shorts with a cold beer each and watched the darkness envelope the bay. Over a second beer and we decided I’d barbeque the steaks while Gail made a salad. As it got dark I set up two lanterns, one on the table and one hung over the barbeque. We shared a fine bottle of mature red wine with the meal, and washed and dried the dishes like we’d been together as a couple for years. It was cool enough to change into tracksuits. We percolated coffee to go with the cheese and biscuits. Gail produced a bottle of Drambuie she’d hidden in the cupboard. Though we found small glasses for the liqueur her shots were still generous.

I turned all the lights off and just left one lantern going on the veranda. Our conversations and discussions turned serious. But no doubt it was good to get these matters out of the way early in our renewed relationship. Gail talked about her early sports days, about the steroids and other d**gs that deformed her internally and externally to the point where she was unable to have babies. With this deeply personal revelation she burst into tears. I moved around to her side of the table, sat beside her and drew her head against my chest. She sobbed until the hurt was out of her system; at least for the time being. I dried her eyes. She apologised for loosing control. I assured her there was no way she needed to apologise to me.

As we had a second coffee and Drambuie Gail questioned me about my lack of body hair. That was easy to explain; I waxed fortnightly. Why? Because I liked it both the look and the feel! She asked me about the size of my penis; had it always been so big? Yes, it grew first and the rest of my body followed later I told her facetiously. Ladies must like me for it, she presumed; then expressed surprise when she learned it caused many to quickly loose interest in any physical relationship. No the physical size of the women seemed to have no correlation in their ability to accommodate my cock. I was drunk enough to mention Kat’s diminutive physique and her ability to handle me easily. My opinion related the problem to one of attitude. That was something Gail had well and truly experienced with many men she said, and she related some sad and happy anecdotes to prove her point.
Gail was drunk enough to pursue the subject of Kat. I’d had enough to drink to deaden the pain so let her go ahead. No doubt it was good for both of us to clear the decks. Yes of course I’d made love to Kat’s penis along with the rest of her. No, I wasn’t bi. Her sexual organs had been part of the intrinsic her, and I loved all of her. Kat being a hermaphrodite had simply been part of the total package. And yes, it all had been beautiful beyond belief.

It was late, very late, when we decided it was time for bed. We were sensible enough to have two Panadol each and a couple of glasses of water before we went to bed.

I lay on my back beside Gail in the darkness. “Can I ask you to do something with me before we go to sleep?’ I asked. “What?” “Give me a cuddle please?” She laughed. I guessed she thought I was about to ask another question. She rolled over against me, her head on the pillow beside me, her body touching mine, one of my arms under her. We held each other. I thanked her for a great day; and she thanked in return, particularly for listening to her.

Idly I stroked her back from her neck to the cheeks of her backside with my free hand. “You have beautiful hands,” she murmured. In spite of my hands her breathing changed. She was asleep. So was I soon after.

Some time during the night I awoke, got up, visited the bathroom and went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. Too many drinks had made me dry. I heard Gail get up and poured her a drink in anticipation. She came to the kitchen. We stood together in the darkness. She commented on our over indulgence.

We went back to bed. Gail was on her side facing away from me. I moulded myself into her back, my legs tucked beneath hers, my arm over her waist. She took her hand in mine and placed in on her breast; and wiggled her backside until it rested against my belly. It was too soon in our relationship and I was too tired to follow through this possible invitation. I slept.

The sun was well up when I awoke. Gail was tucked in against my rear, her breasts against my back, one arm wrapped over me. Her breathing indicated she was awake. I stretched and looked at her. Her good morning greeting and lovely smile made a superb start to the new day.

Gail led me through some stretching exercises on the beach before we went for a nude jog along the bay. She was very fit and we did two laps, promising ourselves another jog in the late afternoon. The water was cold so we had no option but to have a long swim parallel to the beach to get warm again. We breakfasted on the veranda and tidied up the cottage. Gail was very excited about our planned fishing expedition as we organised our gear and loaded the dingy.

While she now was obviously a lot more relaxed about being nude she accepted my suggestion each we wear old long sleeved work shirts of mine. I rowed out to our end of the bay where the reef met the headland. She knew I wanted to fish first before I checked the cray pots. We needed both food for ourselves and baits for the pots. I patiently showed her how to bait her hook. Given the area was not frequently fished I hoped she’d quickly catch her first fish. She screamed in excitement when the line pulled sharply, but listened to my coaching and brought a beautiful eating fish alongside the boat. We got it on board safely. Many more followed until we had enough for all our various needs, including fillets for the freezer for us to take home at the end of our holiday.

The four pots yielded six large painted crays. I showed Gail how to get them out of the pot and check them for sex and roe. We kept four, put two back and moved the pots a few meters further along the edge of the reef. Given the calmness of the water I cleaned and filleted the fish on the dingy, keeping the guts for berley and body remnants for baits.

Back on shore we had plenty of work to do. Gail willingly helped me carry buckets of sea water to the copper to cook the crays. We would eat well. It was late in the morning before we cleaned ourselves up with a swim and decided on an hour’s sun tanning before lunch. Our pale skin made sun protection a necessity. I’d already decanted sunscreen from the large container into a smaller squeeze bottle suitable for the beach. The routine established the previous day meant without preamble or shyness we were able to protect each other’s back and legs. I used an old double blanket on the sand as an underlay for our beach towels as a preventative measure to stop us getting sand in places where it shouldn’t go.

After a guessed at half hour we rolled over onto our backs. “I’ll do your front if you like,” I suggested to Gail. Her “I’d love you to please” reply surprised but pleased me. Her attitude had finally softened in such matters. It seemed “slowly slowly catch the monkey” can sometimes really be the best way to reach an objective.

I knelt beside Gail and started to apply the sunscreen to her face and neck, and kept my touch soft. The moment of truth arrived when my hands moved onto her chest and breasts. I lingered long, but obviously not too long. But it was pleasing to see her nipples swell and distend. I looked at her face. Thank goodness her eyes were closed. She couldn’t have missed my erection. I moved and worked down her belly into her pubic hair. “It might be good to shave this while we’re here so you don’t have any white patches at the end of our holiday,” I tempted. “You reckon?” was her only comment. I wondered. It was time to move on. The real moment of truth had arrived for both of us. Gail obviously knew what I wanted to do. She parted her legs wide enough for me to kneel between them. I teased her by rubbing sunscreen over her thighs and legs first before directing my attention to my ultimate goal. Finally I dribbled sunscreen into her cleft. Her eyes remained closed. In her pose, and given my task, I examined her up close and personal for the first time. I saw not only were her outer labia abnormally large but it was the inordinate size of her inner labia that caused her vulva to remain permanently open. Her gash was long, deep and light pink. The throat of her vagina was obvious between her the butterfly wings of her labia. And hanging down above the top of her crevasse was her abnormally long thick clitoris. With gentleness and considerable care I smoothed the sunscreen over each fold of her flesh. “My god you have wonderful hands,” Gail murmured softly to me. “I’m trying to get the permanent position of moisturiser applicator,” I joked with her. She sighed. Using the fingertips of two fingers and my thumb I rubbed the sunscreen along the length of her clitoris, from the base in her fleshy hood to the glans like tip; up and down and around, softly and carefully. She sighed again, eyes still shut. My erection ached. I ignored it. She was far too important, the moment too defining, to worry about that.

I continued my gentle massage. Her clitoris lengthened and thickened. It no longer dipped downwards over her vulva. It poked upwards, hard; its colour charged from pink to red as it flushed with blood. I heard the change in Gail’s breathing. Her eyes remained closed but her mouth was open and she sucked in air. Still my finger tips fluttered over the length of her organ. She groaned. She moaned. Her stomach and thigh muscles clenched. She climaxed noisily. Her pussy palpitated then gushed. On and on and on the orgasm shook through her being. It was incredible experience to witness her release, and contribute to it. Finally she shivered to a halt. Her eyes opened. She looked at me, smiled, and then laughed. I laughed with her, our joy shared. “I think I really needed that,” she said. “I think you did too,” I agreed.

Gail looked at my straining erection. “That excited you?” she asked. “It sure did.” “I should do something about that,” she suggested. For some reason I told her to relax and enjoy the sun and not worry about payback. I put my own sunscreen on and lay beside her. We finished the morning with a swim and moved to the veranda for a sandwich and cup of tea. We were saving the seafood for dinner.

After lunch I carried two of the single mattresses and a couple of pillows onto the veranda. It was a warm but sheltered spot for a read and a siesta. My reading did not last long. The excesses of the previous night caught up with me. I dozed in that lovely cosy blissful sleep one can have in the afternoons.

As I awoke for a few seconds I thought I was having an erotic dream. I wasn’t. It was better than that. My erection stretched full. Gail knelt on her mattress facing me, her fingertips caressing the skin of my shaft. She smiled wickedly at me. “It’s payback time,” she informed me. She let my cock go briefly to move and kneel between my legs. She squeezed her moisturising cream liberally along the length of my erection. “No, no please,” I begged. “Shush!” she replied, “just relax and go with the flow.” It was easy to capitulate.

One of her hands massaged my balls, the other she wrapped around my shaft and pumped up and down, slowly and softly, with particular attention to the glans which she lightly caressed with her fingertips. My muscles and nerve endings quivered. My sac tightened. Inexorably the pressure built inside my belly. It had been a while for me, too long in fact. Her touch was too good. I had absolutely no control. My cock throbbed and jumped in her hand. I groaned, and groaned again. The spunk burst from my knob and sprayed up over my chest. On and on Gail pumped, and on and on my cum spurted until it dribbled away to a few milked drops oozing out of my tip onto her fingers. Gail’s grin was contagious. “I think that was obviously long overdue,” she correctly commented. “I enjoyed doing that to you,” she added, “and I want you to know after your work this morning I’ve promoted you to the position of my chief moisturiser applicator.” “Why thank you,” I told her, “I accept your job offer and I will do my best to make sure you are frequently and properly serviced.” We laughed together, put the mattresses and pillows away and headed to the beach for our afternoon sun tanning, swimming and jogging session.

That night the cold crays and salad were superb. Lesson learned we cut our alcohol intake dramatically with one beer each, a shared bottle of white wine and one small Drambuie with our coffee. The evening was cool and we went to bed early and kissed and cuddled until we were warm. Gail’s simple request, “let’s make love”, changed our lives forever.

I knelt over her, straddled her, and kissed my way over her face, her firm breasts and thick brown nipples, down her belly, along each thigh and leg in turn; sucked her toes and worked my way back up to her pussy. Her musk filled my nostrils. I ran my tongue over and around and along her clitoris; it engorged and swelled hard and long. I sucked it into my mouth, held it in with my lips and ran my tongue over the nub. Gail’s hands rested on my head. Her body against my face transmitted her impending surge of pleasure. She lifted her cunt up to my face. Loud cries fell from her lips as she climaxed. Her body wrenched, humped and pressed against my mouth. Her gash gushed sweet nectar. I moved up over her body. My hard tool creased along her crevice. As was generally the case I prepared for considerable caring effort to achieve penetration. It surprised me when my knob slipped easily into Gail’s vagina. In a single simple gentle slide I slid completely and totally inside her cunt. She had all of me. We were a gentle close easy fit for each other; made to order. My face must have registered my shock and pleasant surprise as I looked down at her. She grinned. “Isn’t that just perfect?” she asked. “We’re made for each other,” I agreed. I rested my body on hers. She encased me in the warm welcome cocoon of her arms and legs. I began a slow full length caring fuck and bent my face to hers, kissing her eyes and lips. After all our perceived psychological drama the physical reality was just perfect. Her cunt was made for my cock, and my cock for her cunt. The fit was better than a hand in a glove.

Our first fuck started long and gentle and slow; I slid into her completely and withdrew until just my knob remained inside her vagina. It was wonderful. There was no rush, just pure pleasure. Inevitably involuntary lust began its inexorable surge through both of us. We both sensed it. Our response changed according to the building passion. We found each others tongue. My cock slides became firm thrusts. We surged together. Gail rocked and ground around me. My dick took control and throbbed and pumped inside her.

Though our bodies were covered in perspiration we did not break our embrace. The beauty of our situation impressed us both; particularly as we’d always been so careful in our relationship to date. The discovery of this mutual compatibility caught us both by surprise. In a very nice and positive way it awed both of us. In between talking we kissed with care and consideration. And we enjoyed the experience of feeling our collective cum seep around our bodies. Gail’s embrace kept me deep inside her vagina. She didn’t want me to move. My weight resting on her was not a concern. So we enjoyed our post coital recovery together.

I have no idea how long we remained locked together like that, but it was for some time. Simultaneously both of us felt my cock begin its resurrection. I certainly had no control over it. It had a life and mind of its own. I waited until it was stiff then recommenced my fuck with Gail. Her powerful climax fuelled my ego. Her next wrecked us both and easily brought me to an uncontrolled spasming spunk shooting crescendo.

We lay side by side in an entwined comfortable tangle of arms and legs. We talked more. She confessed that she’d rarely experienced multiple orgasms. More through accident than by design I’d won an admirer. It was a nice feeling to give someone such pleasure, to be wanted and needed for one’s innate u*********s abilities. We slept the sleep of the exhausted until the rising sun woke us.

Gail rested on her side against me, watching me awaken. My first sight that day was her beautiful beaming smile. My habitual morning erection was not wasted. She drew me onto her body, grasped my cock in a hand, fed it into the waiting hungry maw of her gash, lifted her legs around me, grasped my arse in both hands and pulled me deep inside her. Our fuck was ferocious, fast and furious. We rocketed to the stars. What a way to start the day! My exercise session and jog was not as energetic as usual.

The day was fine, warm and still. We took full advantage of the weather, caught more crays and fish, and put some back for another day. The crays would be more useful and prized towards the end of our stay when we wanted to freeze them to take home with us.

Just into our afternoon siesta on the veranda I surprised Gail. She was reading when I went inside the cottage and made my preparations. I returned with a large bowl of hot water, two disposable razors, soap, a towel and a bottle of her moisturising cream. She showed no reluctance to my suggestion that I shave her. Probably previously mentioning my desire to give her the smooth look helped my cause. It took time and patience to gradually remove her pubic hair. The second fresh razor cleared all of her stubble and single hairs growing in odd spots. Her white skin would soon tan with care. As I finished this delightful task, kneeling between her legs, I couldn’t help myself. I dipped my tongue into her deep open gash, snail trailed from the pucker of her arse hole to her clitoris. I ran my tongue wetly over her clits fat full baby penis like length, then sucked it into my mouth. It swelled hard and long over my lips. I strummed, teased, sucked and swirled. Her orgasm was stupendous. It shook her body. And she loudly wailed and moaned as her body heaved against my mouth. Later I applied liberal quantities of moisturiser to her lower belly and magnificent wet fat gaping gash. I’d certainly acquired an interesting and unexpectedly delightful job for myself for the holidays.

I relaxed on the mattress happy in a job obviously well done. Gail had other ideas. She knelt between my legs. “Now just relax and let me try my thing,” she demanded. Her wet warm tongue trailed over my balls, along the underside of my shaft to the tip of my glans and back again. Up and down and around her tongue trailed over me. Gently she sucked one ball into her mouth; then the other one. Again her tongue moved up the length of my shaft. She grasped the base of my tool in her hand and held it upright from my belly. Her lips parted and her mouth engulfed my knob. My body rose upwards from the mattress, nerve endings on fire. She sucked my cock. On and on and on she worked until I felt the pleasure pressure build in my belly and balls. My cock spasmed in her mouth; spunk spurted; she swallowed, and swallowed with each spurt. As the spurts died to dribbles she licked my knob clean, squeezing out the last few drops with her hand, lapping the last few white tears with her tongue. “You just blew me away,” I complimented her. Gail’s face reflected the happiness of her achievement. “I just wish I was a bit more talented at oral sex,” she said wistfully. “You can practice on me any time you like,” was my encouraging response. We laughed and relaxed.

Our sexual relationship progressed surely even though I made no demands on Gail. After all we’d gone from platonic intentions to our current situation unexpectedly quickly. The events of the holiday so far were a wonderful bonus as far as I was concerned. There were some things that we did that were superlative; the rest were simply excellent.

Gail was happy enough to go on top but her style was generally different to that I’d previously experienced with other women. All seemed to prefer an upright position. Gail straddled my body, my legs between hers. She slid her gaping gash along the length of my erection until the entrance to her cunt was over my knob. A simple rearwards jolt by her always achieved engagement, followed by a backwards slide until my cock was completely embedded in her cunt. She rested her body on mine, her breasts mashed against my chest. Back and forth she rocked like a man and fucked me. She seemed to climax easily and frequently in this position.

I certainly enjoyed fucking her from behind while she knelt in front of me. She seemed to like it too, particularly when I’d masturbate her clitty. Her orgasms were always impressively physical and noisy.

As Gail’s abilities at oral sex developed she became more willing to sixty nine with me. We were not able though to settle on a preference as to who should be on top. Kneeling over her, my cock bent down into her mouth and throat, was just as dynamic as being under her.

Given the flamboyant size of her labia and clitoris, the perpetual pout of her pudendum, I was always willing to use my mouth on her.

The traditional missionary position remained a favourite. It was just a beautiful experience to be encompassed in the arms, legs and vagina of such a tall fit powerful woman. Mutual satisfaction was guaranteed.

By the end of the first week we’d had one rainy night which topped up the water tank, an important event. The bay remained our sole property until mid morning on Wednesday of the second week. We were fishing in the dingy over the reef when I thought I heard a vehicle. Gail confirmed my hearing. We waited and watched. A car moved along the access track and stopped at the beach house nearest to ours. It seemed we were going to have neighbours.