A Polaroid of Kristina, Part 3 - Sex Stories

A Polaroid of Kristina, Part 3

... spread my towel on one of the beach chairs the building provided. I lay back and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun warming my wet body, a light summer breeze keeping me from overheating. After only a short time like that I heard Kristina’s lightly accented, vaguely European voice greet me, “Good morning, Michael.” My eyes flew open as she smiled and continued walking past me on her way to her usual chair, as I managed a strangled, “Hi, Kristina.” Her chair was about thirty feet away, on a direct sight line with mine. She was wearing the same beach cover-up she had put on yesterday afternoon, and which I removed before we made love. The thought of how she looked underneath it made my cock stiffen, and I had to clamp down on the feeling, not wanting to get an erection in public, especially not lying on my back in a wet bathing suit. She spread out her towel and took off the cover-up, leaving me with my jaw agape. In all the times I had seen her, going back to the time we moved in, I had never seen her in anything but a fairly plain, utilitarian, black one-piece swimsuit. She must have had several, all the same. This suit was still black, but I was stunned to see that it was a bikini. And she looked spectacular. Everything that her plain one-piece hid, this one emphasized. Her legs looked longer, her hips curvier. The narrowness of her waist was more apparent, and her breasts appeared fuller than in the old suits, which hid those assets. I had won the battle with ...

... my erection moments before, but the war was still not won. I was forced to bring my knees up, and prop my book in my lap in order for my growing erection not to be evident. Not that it would have really mattered I suppose, since we were the only two there, but something about it being in public made me want to hide it. And anyone could have come out to the deck at any time. Kristina lay on her stomach, more or less facing me. A moment later she reached behind her back to untie her bikini top, as I had seen other women (but never her) do to avoid tan lines. She turned her head to the side, resting it on the chair, and closed her eyes. This was my opportunity to stare, and I took advantage of it. Even though I knew her top was sort of on, it appeared that all she was wearing was her bikini bottom, which, while not truly skimpy, was in no way matronly. I admired the long line of her legs, the rounded beauty of her ass, and the elegant curve of her bare shoulders. Soon to my surprise, she lifted herself onto her elbows. I truly don’t think she meant, at first, to expose herself the way she did. Instead, I think she had forgotten, after years of wearing one-piece suits, that her top was not on. She realized too late, as her breasts came into full view. She started to lie down again, fast and reflexively, but even before she lay back down completely, she caught herself. She raised herself up onto her elbows again, as if her breasts were not completely visible to me, and to anyone ...