Karen & Greg: The Midnight Swim

Karen & Greg: The Midnight Swim Karen & Greg: The Midnight Swim

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

A midnight naked swim leads to.....

Summary

A midnight naked swim leads to.....

Content

Submitted: November 07, 2012

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: November 07, 2012

A A A

A A A


 

On the third night Greg stayed with us, the heat was particularly oppressive. The holiday house had a tin roof and thin uninsulated walls. On the first day of a heat wave, it usually managed to keep the worst of it out. By the second day it had heated up like an oven; radiating the heat back in to the interior during the night. We lay alongside each other, naked and uncovered while our sweet permeated the sheet below us.

We each tossed and turned, looking for a restfulness that would not come. The shafts of pale moonlight piercing the room at least let me admire Greg’s body and as he alternated from lying on his back or on one side or the other I had time to admire every aspect of his beautiful physique. I don’t know whether it was a night erection or caused by my presence, but his shaft seemed temptingly erect the whole time I watched it. But the night was too hot for any contact; even a hand across the others chest was too much for the comfort of either party.

About 1 am Greg leant in toward me “how about we go skinny dipping on the beach?”

I’d never done anything like that before. While I was happy to wear the skimpiest most revealing bikini, being totally naked even in a girls change room was something I avoided (except when I was alone with Greg of course). And yet, tonight with Greg, the naughtiness of it was suddenly appealing. “You’re on!”

We each wrapped ourselves in a beach towel as we snuck out of the bed and then out of the house as quietly as we could; although I surreptitiously took a moment to put on my beach watch with its broad band and the cargo I could slip under it. By the time we had crossed the road and walked most of the way down the path to the beach our towels had loosened their wraps and were ready to fall from our bodies, so we cast them off and over our shoulders leaving us to walk naked hand in hand the rest of the way to our usual swimming spot.

Dropping his towel on the sand, Greg dashed in to the gently breaking surf first. When I hesitated momentarily as I entered the cool water, he turned and started splashing me; soaking me before wrapping me in his arms and tipping both of us over on our sides to be immersed in the thigh deep water. We lingered momentarily our bodies held together while the heat drained from them and was absorbed by the ocean.

Then we frolicked; alternatively diving to glide along the sandy bottom of the shallow water then playing like a pair of 8 year olds – splashing each other, tackling each other, wrestling with each other. I watched amazed as Greg launched himself toward me, spearing along the bottom through the water to pass between my legs leaving a trail of phosphorescence; the lights marking his trail before fading into darkness again. Once my eyes had adjusted to it, the phosphorescence was everywhere – in every drop and splash – lighting up our play with a magic of its own.

But the magic lights could only offer a distraction to a point. As the thermal heat seeped from our bodies it was all too readily replaced by the heat of the physical passion that encased the bond between us and the temptation to play in a way that is reserved only for those much older became too great. The erection Greg had in bed had never really gone down; he had walked to the beach and entered the water in much the same state and my own arousal had not really been any less. Now our play turned to petting; my fingers around his shaft; his hands in all the places reserved only for his touch.

We found ourselves in a kneeling embrace; the water lapping at our crutches, Greg’s rigid shaft separated our pubises but our bodies were otherwise merged, our arms wrapped around pulling us together as one while our tongues were exploring the deepest reaches of each other’s mouths. I yearned to complete the merger; to have our bodies locked together by Greg’s shaft buried deep within me. It wasn’t a desperate need for an orgasm; although that’s always nice. It was a need for unity with him; for him to fill my pussy with his presence and bind us as one.

Bringing my arms from around Greg’s back, I showed Greg what I was doing as I removed the condom form its storage under my wristband, unwrapped it and rolled it over his shaft before lifting myself on to him. Our merger was complete.

“You really just like your mother and plan for everything don’t you…” was all he could get out before I merged our faces again.

I knew that in this position I wasn’t likely to achieve any orgasm just by the process of thrusting, but didn’t really care, so it was beyond expectations when, while we were still passionately kissing, Greg slipped a hand down between our bodies and started stroking my clit with his fingers. All of a sudden what hadn’t mattered became a basic need as he awakened once again that throbbing little nub that he had first brought to life and nurtured since that first day on the beach. It was as if suddenly for both of us, mere arousal and the need for physical binding turned to sexual longing. Physically I wasn’t aware of being more aroused and nor did Greg seem to be an bigger; it’s just that some switch seemed to have got turned on that sensitised everything to the max – like someone had thrown the light switch at a fun fair to instantly bring the thing to life.

I could tell it was the same for Greg too because what had been a gentle rocking back on forth to keep us at peak arousal quickly worked toward strong needy thrusts. I squeezed myself around him as we both moved toward our climaxes; me first, then him, leaving us kneeling there in the water pushing ourselves together to form a single muscular entity as our orgasms wash through us.

As a final comic flourish, when we had both completely finished, we tipped over sideways still locked together, where we floated apart eventually holding hands as we floated on our backs side by side.

With both our bodies and our passions cooled, we exited the water, picked up our towels and walked still dripping wet back to the house. This time the towels were simply carried in our hands; not even held over our shoulder to provide a modicum of readily attainable modesty; our only concession to our nakedness being to carefully check for traffic before we fully emerged from the path to cross the road to the house.

As we entered the front yard, Greg suggested we should hose ourselves off to stop the dried salt adding to the mugginess of the night. So that any family member looking out the window didn’t have a view of us – and because we both knew it was free of the dreaded bindis - he stood me in the patch of lawn in front of my bedroom window while he collected the end of the yard hose and turned it on. As he directed the water stream at me, I mouthed a silent cry in mock reaction to its coldness as I swung my shoulder side on and curled it over as an automatic protective reaction. There flashed in to my head a scene from an old family video where my oldest brother was hosing me as a naked three year old as I ran evasively around the yard squealing for him to stop one minute – dashing in with a forlorn hope of grabbing the hose off him in the next. There was still a little girl in me who would have been happy to re-enact that scene here and now with Greg except for the thought that it was 2 am on a still hot night where in all likelihood most of my family – and indeed the neighbourhood – were lying awake trying to find sleep in impossible conditions.

When he thoroughly soaked me, Greg came in, held me with one arm around my back and held the hose over his head to shower himself off too. Then we slowly each dried the other with a thoroughness and attention to detail that suggested more than an interest in removing dampness. Wrapping our towels around us for the dash through the house to my bedroom, we were soon back in bed. The swim worked; we both dropped in to a deep sleep that lasted through to the morning.


© Copyright 2018 joanmcarthy. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Erotica Short Stories

Popular Tags