The first night of our married life was not spent in the comfort of a hotel bedroom enjoying the divine sensual pleasure of exploring the many ways two bodies could interact to ascend to repeated summits of ineffable rapture. That would come later in many different guises, either together, or in bacchanalian rites of orgasmic delight with a small circle of intimate friends.
We were booked on a late evening flight from Gatwick Airport to the airport at Cilipi, a few miles from the beautiful walled city of Dubrovnik in what was then Yugoslavia, so when the wedding reception started to wind down, we changed quickly and were then taken by taxi to the main Bristol railway station to catch a train to London.
Our honeymoon hotel was on the Lapad peninsula, situated just west of the main town of Dubrovnik, and is now the place where most of the tourist hotels are situated. Over fifty years ago, when the events of this story took place, it was still largely undeveloped with extensive areas of woodland. There were several delightful beaches on its southern and western shores, some of them family-friendly, but others which were very secluded and could only be reached by walking round the coast, and where nude sunbathing was tolerated, if not entirely legal, which is one reason we had chosen the resort for our honeymoon.
The hotel, which was called somewhat unimaginatively Hotel Lapad, was a stone building dating from the late Victorian era — quite unlike modern constructions of steel and glass. Meals were taken outside under a large vine-covered canopy, romantically lit by hanging lanterns, although there was a smaller, rather less romantic indoor restaurant. Our room was on the fourth floor and, although quite small, was comfortable with a large double bed and double doors leading to a small balcony looking east over a sandy cove. There was an en-suite bathroom with a bath, but no shower, a toilet, and a novelty to Brits like us — a bidet. As our room was on a corner, the balcony was only overlooked by the balcony of the adjacent room, which we later discovered was larger with a sofa and chairs as well as the bed.
It was five in the morning when we arrived, but having gone through the necessary rituals of reception, by the time the porter ushered us into our room, we were no longer sleepy. We were hot and sweaty from travelling, and even before unpacking our suitcase, we stripped out of our clothes and kicked them into a corner of the room.
The erotic pleasure of watching my new wife Diana stepping out of her panties for the first time had the expected effect on my cock, which rapidly stood to attention. She turned towards me, and the early rays of morning sunlight lit up her pubic hair with gold, the dark cleft between her labia replete with the promise of the sweet treasure that lay concealed within. She looked straight at me with a mischievous expression and walked through the doors onto the balcony where she leaned against the mahogany rail looking out over the bay. The way she was leaning forward emphasised the luscious globes of her bottom, and even more delightfully, the lips of her pussy with their fringe of soft golden curls were perfectly framed by her succulent cheeks. It was a view which I have never grown tired of enjoying for those few wonderful moments before I part her legs and, after lubricating my throbbing shaft with her juices, slowly thrusting deep into the silken heat of her vagina.
Her seductive posture carried an unmistakable message of an invitation to fuck her for the first memorable time of our married life, so different in emotional feeling to our years of courtship. I walked the few steps until I was standing behind her, and gently parting her legs, slipped my right hand into that magic space between her thighs to fondle her inner labia, which were already swelling and wet with her arousal, and with my other hand I cupped the soft swelling of her left breast. She moaned quietly when I slid two fingers into her vagina and, reaching down, began to rub and pinch her clitoris.
“Oh, my lover,” she sighed, “plunge your gorgeous cock into my cunt and fuck me here in the open air. I feel so horny I don’t care if someone sees us, being watched is so hot.”
The kinky side of my wife was something we had had little opportunity to explore up till then, but as events unfolded over the next few days, her enthusiastic embrace of a liberated sexual lifestyle set the tone for the hundreds of hours of carnal debauchery we have since enjoyed to the full. Though we didn’t know it as the head of my cock pushed open the entrance to her vagina that July morning, the exploration of our mutual quest for orgasmic heaven and the discovery of the greater pleasure to be achieved when that quest is shared with others would be a significant and deeply satisfying part of our life together. Even today, over fifty years later, though diminished in urgency and frequency, it is a pleasure that remains undimmed and has added unmeasurably to the joy and strength of a deeply loving relationship.
Once my swollen cock head had pushed its way slowly past the entrance to her vagina and had penetrated a couple of inches into the heat of her love tunnel, I paused to savour the view of my manhood disappearing between the cheeks of her sexy bottom. I pulled out a little, fascinated by the way her lips clung to my shaft as if they were reluctant to release me from their wanton grasp, and then plunged hard until I was fully embedded in her hot cunt; Diana gasped and reached back to cradle my balls as they dangled between her thighs.
We then began to fuck in earnest, long slow strokes at first but then accelerating in tempo until the movement of my hips was a blurred frenzy of thrusting. Diana put both hands on the rail and pushed back against me hard, moaning with the ascending sensations radiating through her body from her clitoris and cunt, while her breasts swung backwards and forwards with the energy of our mating. I was close to cumming when I caught movement out of my eye, and turning my head saw a woman in her fifties on the next-door balcony watching us with wrapt attention.
I froze mid-thrust, which made Diana cry out, “Don’t stop, oh don’t fucking stop, I’m so close to cumming.”
The woman looked me in the eye and then down to where my cock was halfway into my wife’s cunt. “Don’t stop, dear boy; it is an unexpected pleasure watching you,” she said in a quiet but melodious voice, but loud enough for Diana to hear. She then undid her dressing gown to reveal a glorious pair of voluptuous breasts, as beautifully tanned as the rest of her body, including her vulva, which, unusually for those days, was fully shaved. Watching us with a look of intense arousal, she thrust three fingers deep into her cunt and began to finger fuck herself, while caressing her breasts and pinching her nipples with her other hand.
I don’t know who came first. Perhaps we all came at the same time; it was impossible to tell; we were all moaning with pleasure so much, but I can remember the sweet intensity as I unloaded my hot semen into Diana’s pulsing cunt.
“Thank you,” said the unknown woman as she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, “that was a delightful way to greet the morning. I will think about it all day long, and hopefully get fucked by my husband before dinner. There is nothing like a good shag to give me an appetite. Oh, it would be very nice to repeat the pleasure sometime soon; it really was most wonderful.”
A few moments later, Diana and I fell into bed giggling, but just before we fell asleep, she murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to lose yourself between those boobs with your cock deep in her mature cunt?”
Prophetic words!
*******
After the excitement of our wedding day, and the long hours of travel, not to mention our fantastic fuck, we were exhausted, and we didn’t wake up until late afternoon. Having missed breakfast and lunch, and having had nothing to drink except water, we were feeling definitely famished. The hotel didn’t have a pool, and the bar only opened at 7:30 pm, half an hour before dinner — everything was much more regimented in those far off days with meals served for all the guests at specific times of the day — but there was a bar just along the road from the main hotel entrance.
We dressed quickly in casual clothes, shorts and a shirt for me, sexy but not too revealing in Diana’s case — walking around wearing swimming costumes or bikinis was definitely only for the beach in those days. We ordered a fruit juice and an espresso each, plus a few local pastries, and sat outside the bar just relaxing in the pleasantly warm afternoon sunshine and people-watching.
We liked to play a little game trying to guess which couples were obviously newly married like us and who had been fucking recently, and passing naughty comments such as, “I bet he has a lovely big cock for me to suck,” or “I would really like to give her one.” When you’re young and feeling horny, exchanging lascivious comments is extremely titillating. We also talked about the woman from the next room to us and how being watched had been such a turn-on. Although we didn’t say it out loud at the time, we were both wondering whether we might see her sunbathing nude, and maybe enjoy a little naughty playtime.
There were still several hours to go before dinner time, so we decided to stroll down to the nearest beach, which turned out to be less than five minutes away. There were a few couples sitting on the beach of yellowy white sand which sloped gently down to the clear azure water of the Adriatic, but most people were reclining on towels or simple metal framed loungers dotted about a larger area of rough grass, carpeted with needles from the scattered pine trees, which were the only shelter from the burning sun. It was much more rustic and casual than the serried ranks of beach umbrellas which are such a familiar site today.
We found a couple of unoccupied loungers and Diana wasted no time in removing her blouse and skirt and stretched out in the bikini which she had thoughtfully put in instead of normal underwear. I was less prepared, and all I could do was take off my shirt. I thought she looked very sexy, although her bikini was much more conservative than today’s skimpy little numbers, which just about cover the interesting bits. It was those interesting bits which I was thinking about, and my cock, which has always had a mind of its own, began to rouse from its slumbers and push against the restraint of my underpants and shorts. Diana grinned when she saw what was happening, and then made matters worse by asking me to spread the sun cream which I would find in her bag on her exposed flesh.
“My love,” she said, and giggled, “when we find the nude beaches, your cock will be waving around like a flag pole all day from looking at all the tits and pussies on display, just like all the other men, whilst I will be turned on wondering which ones want to fuck my brazen little cunt.”
To be continued
