A few years ago, my wife applied to go on one of those property search TV programs. We would watch ‘Dream Home in the Country’ or ‘Escape to the Sea’ and similar programs. My wife kept on badgering me until I agreed, and she applied. It would change our lives in unexpected ways.

There was an exchange of emails, and a few weeks later a researcher visited us at home. She was in her twenties, and I thought she was gorgeous. I have to admit that since turning fifty, I have found lots of girls in their twenties very attractive. She took a few pictures and a couple of short videos. She checked passports and asked about our budget and finances. We had always fancied a place in Italy, and so that was our preference.

We were told by email that we had been accepted for the program and would hear when filming was scheduled. I asked if they knew who the expert helping us would be. We think one of them comes across as insincere and patronising; we did not want to meet her. They said that they would not know until nearer the date.

It was nearly three months later when an email and subsequent phone calls confirmed we would be off to Italy in two weeks. I hoped the researcher who had visited would be coming along too. We were told to pack just enough for four or five days. A car arrived to take us to the airport, and we met another couple also heading for the show before we boarded. The other couple seemed determined to grab every free option going. They talked incessantly about this free holiday, never mentioning properties. We discreetly distanced ourselves from them where possible.

We were met at Naples airport by a minibus and transported to a nice hotel and asked to be in reception in a couple of hours. We unpacked and waited to see who we would be filming with. An assistant went through the setup and rules and answered our questions. I was sad to see it was a young guy and not the gorgeous researcher we had met at home. We were asked to be ready at 10 AM the next morning; the other couple was being collected later in the day. We were advised to wear comfortable clothes and be prepared to be out all day.

My wife returned to our room, with a bundle of property details to look through. I opted to go down to the spa for a swim and relax. It was mid-afternoon and virtually deserted while I put in a few lengths alone in the pool. Just before I stopped, I watched a beautiful woman slip into the water at the far end. She swam elegantly to stop a little way along from me. She looked at me for a moment before swimming away. It took me a few seconds to register who it was, definitely the hottest presenter the property program had.

If she was presenting, I always watched closely. She had a perfect slim figure, and I had never noticed an engagement or wedding ring. I can’t describe her in detail or name her because I think it would be wrong to do so in light of what happened later. She often wore tight jeans or trousers, her hair either tightly up or a mass of loose curls. I desperately hoped we would be working with her.

I watched her swim away and then turn and slowly return. I smiled and tried to act casual as I said hello. She flashed a wide smile and clung to the side at the deep end of the pool. I said she swam gracefully, and she laughed a little. I knew I was imagining it, but I felt a tension and an instant connection. She looked directly at me and held eye contact for a few long seconds before turning and swimming slowly away again. At the far end of the pool, she climbed the steps, and I stared at the water running off of her one-piece costume.

She stood and looked towards me before walking across to the spa tub and sinking into the steaming water. I was sure it was an invitation. I was also painfully aware of the saying, ‘There is no fool like an old fool.’ I swam the length to the shallow end wondering if I should, or dared, join her in the hot tub. She looked over at me as I stood up and briefly flashed that smile before looking away. I decided nothing ventured, nothing gained, would be my motto today.

I climbed out of the pool and walked towards the tub; she did not look in my direction. As I approached the tub, she reached one hand behind her to turn on the air jets. The tub was one large circle, and I opted to sit one-quarter of the way around from her. Opposite felt too distant, and side by side felt far too presumptuous. The noise of the jets made conversation impractical; we exchanged a smile and nod. Feeling her feet slide down my calves a few seconds later sent a thrill through my whole body.

I wanted to slide around next to her, but I knew the middle footwell was just an inevitable point of contact. I watched out of the corner of my eye; the shimmering water was barely covering her pert breasts. The foam uncovered and then hid the very edge of her costume alluringly; I was aware my cock was starting to respond. The air jets stopped quite suddenly, the water became clear, and I hoped my bulging shorts were not obvious.

She turned to press the start button again and, in doing so, moved a little closer towards me. Her feet came back in contact with my legs and settled pressed against me. I had my arms out, with my hands under the water resting on the seat on each side of me. We both turned to look at each other at the same time and both smiled before quickly looking away. Neither of us moved for the next few minutes while the water foamed around us.

I decided that when the air jets stopped next, I would slide across and turn them on. I would have to move half of the distance between us to push the button, which was close behind her. I figured it was a good excuse to move closer, and she could easily leave the hot tub if she felt uncomfortable. I was aware that there were no other people around at all. I struggled with the decision until the jets stopped, and I found myself moving before the water had cleared.

I put my hand back into the water and brushed her fingertips as I did. It felt like an electric shock. From the knee down, her nearest leg was now pressed against mine; I felt bold enough to move my hand a fraction to touch her fingers. She turned towards me and surprised me when she leaned closer to speak. I could barely hear her over the noise of the hot tub.

“Is your wife not joining you?”

“My wife?” I was panicking; how did she know?

“Your wife, we are filming tomorrow. I saw your screen test earlier.”

I was relieved and worried in equal measure. I guessed she was just being friendly after recognising me from the pictures or video that the researcher took. I knew I had fallen into the ‘no fool like an old fool’ category. “No, she wanted to study the property details and local map. She does not like swimming or spas, to be honest.”

She straightened up and seemed to settle even closer than before as she leaned closer again to speak. “I enjoy a good spa, especially a hot tub or sauna, and a massage when I can get one.”

My mind went into overdrive. Was she flirting with me? It had been so long since anyone did that I feared I was misjudging the whole thing.

“Do you like a sauna and massage?” She was leaning closer still, and her hand was now covering mine under the water.

“Yes, I suppose I do. Do they offer massage here?” I managed to say.

“No, but there is a sauna. Perhaps next time.” She stood up facing me, just a few inches away. Her figure looked even better than I had imagined it on TV. Her costume was not very high cut, but I found myself staring at her crotch barely a foot in front of my face. It seemed like an eternity as she faced me before moving. I had an almost unbearable urge to reach out and touch her. She turned and stepped carefully out of the water before turning back to me. “See you in the morning.”

I never took my eyes off of her until she disappeared through the door wrapped in a towelling dressing gown. I swam another couple of lengths to clear my head and let my cock subside before I returned to our room. I did not mention meeting her to my wife.

When I first heard it, it must have been approaching midnight. I was reading, which helped me to relax. My wife was sound asleep next to me.

“Yes, yes, fuck me now.” Were clear among so many moans and groans. Someone was enjoying a vigorous sex session in a room very close to ours. I put down my book and strained to hear; my cock had sprung to attention. Somehow, hearing a woman's voice in the throes of ecstasy was turning me on a lot. I hoped my wife would stay asleep as I stroked my cock under the covers.

The moans and whimpers were growing louder and faster; I could only hear the woman calling and urging her lover on. I was unaware how fast I had been stroking until I knew I was about to cum. It was too late to jump out of bed. I pulled my long foreskin up and gripped it tight, trapping all of my cum inside it. The woman let out a long series of grunts and calls as I came; somehow we had synchronised our orgasms from rooms apart.

I snuck out of bed and cleaned up in the bathroom; thank God for en suite facilities these days. I could hear water running in the adjacent bathroom and guessed I’d just listened to someone in the room directly next to ours. I wondered when my wife and I had last made love in a hotel room; we used to do it whenever we were away. I remember once a long time ago, waking her after becoming so aroused hearing a couple having sex in the next room. I was spooning her and wanted to make love; as soon as she heard the noise from the next room, she recoiled and asked what sort of pervert I was becoming.

I slipped unnoticed back into bed and slept soundly.

The following morning we were met by a small group of production staff who ate with us. The other couple did not appear, thankfully. Introductions all around put us at ease; I was asked to change my shirt as the contrasting pattern was not “camera friendly.” When I returned downstairs, we were ushered outside to a table and met our expert—the woman from the spa. She did not react at all to seeing me. I struggled to appear nonchalant, later blaming my self-consciousness on the cameras and meeting someone on TV.

The day visiting properties was nothing like I expected. With long periods of waiting while the crew set up for filming, then off to the next location. Our presenter was quite detached while off-camera, which confirmed that I had misread the situation before. A couple of times I followed her up staircases, looking at her perfect bum in the tightest black outfit. I had to force myself to not stare while she led us around. She wore a loose blouse that gave the occasional glimpse of her firm cleavage.

Back at the hotel, I decided to have a quick swim before dinner; my wife stayed in the room to get ready. The spa was as empty as the day before when I started swimming. I was about to leave when she appeared and silently slipped into the pool. She was wearing another brightly coloured one-piece swimsuit. She smiled briefly as she reached my end of the pool and turned to swim back. I followed her to the shallow end, hoping for another hot tub session.

She climbed carefully out and made for the sauna door, looking over her shoulder as she entered. I tried to act cool as I followed her lead once the door had closed. I was glad to see she was the only other occupant when I closed the door behind me. It was surprisingly small inside, with bench seats arranged in terraces up one wall in three layers. She poured a ladle of water over the hot stones, and the room was instantly filled with dense steam. “Come on, let's see how steamy it gets,” she said as she did it.

I sat down and could not see her. The bench seat next to me seemed to be empty. I leaned back and felt skin against my neck. Turning, I could see her legs and realised she was lying along the middle tier. I made some comments about how hot it was. I wanted to say how hot she looked and how sexy she had looked today. I could barely see her upper body through the steam, so I knew she could not see me either. I do not have a foot fetish, but she had the most perfect feet and toes. Moving slowly along, I stared at her toned and smooth legs; I had such an urge to touch her, to kiss her even.

Her thighs came into clear view, and then her pubic mound showed above her legs. The cut of her swimwear was neatly framing her hip bone. I began to slide further along when the door to the sauna opened and a couple entered. They were talking loudly to each other and filled the seat next to me. I moved further along, facing forward, cursing their arrival. I felt movement, and she climbed down past me with her hand resting on my shoulder. She put another ladle of water on the hot stones before I heard the door open and close. She had left.

I sat for a short while raging inside against the couple who had stolen such a beautiful moment from me. He moaned incessantly about the heat, and in protest, I added another ladle of water to the hot stones as I also left the sauna. Walking solemnly back to my wife, I wondered if I had just been saved from making a hideous error of judgement. Had I completely misread the signals? Beautiful young women did not offer themselves to middle-aged men like me. To be honest, beautiful young women had never thrown themselves at me when I was young either.

I read again while my wife settled to sleep. I kept myself alert and awake, hoping for a repeat of last night's entertaining noises. I heard the voices first, muffled and low, followed by a chair scraping across the floor. It went quiet apart from a few giggles until I heard a couple of long, low moans, “Yessss, and Oooohhh, and Mmmmm.” I put my book down quietly and grabbed the cluster of tissues on the bedside table. I was prepared tonight.

I could only hear the woman, urging someone on, all the while letting out gasps and noises. I stroked my surprisingly hard cock slowly, concentrating on the audible thrills from the next room. I’d never been with a woman so vocal. I wondered how loud and abandoned she would be in person. I imagined all sorts of things going on before the pace of her urging and encouraging became more urgent and staccato. I came into the wad of tissues while she was seemingly shouting, “Yes, yes, yes,” over and over.

In the bathroom, I began to clean up and was sure I heard the main door to the room next door close. It seemed like they were not in the room as a couple. I was determined to find out who was staying next door; I desperately wanted to put a face to those exquisite sounds I had enjoyed for the last two nights. I slept soundly and nearly missed breakfast.

The following day the first property was a rambling farmhouse and outbuildings. It needed a lot of work but was fundamentally sound. The presenter wore thin, white, loose trousers and a baggy, multicoloured top. When the sun was behind her, the trousers became transparent; I had trouble not staring. The breeze flapped her top around, and more than once it clung to and outlined her breasts perfectly. Camera or recording problems cut short the day, and we adjourned to the hotel by mid-afternoon. We would return the next day, as this property really caught my imagination.

My wife and I walked into the local town and enjoyed a meal and drinks. When we finally got back, I went down to the spa. I checked the sauna was empty and then swam for a while, desperately hoping she would appear. My wife asked if anything was wrong when I got back to the room, and I said I was tired. I lay awake for a long time listening, but there was no repeat of the last couple of nights' entertainment.

We went back to the farmhouse the next day. We were all asked to wear the same clothes as before for continuity. The high point of the day for me was a rickety, narrow staircase outside up to a roof terrace. My wife was exploring the rooms indoors while I followed the presenter up, and just before the top, she turned around on the top step and said something about the view. My face was just a couple of feet away from her crotch, facing directly towards me. The breeze had her trousers pinned against her, and a faint camel toe was evident. I stared at the best view I could imagine and said it was spectacular; I completely forgot where we were.

She laughed and said I was looking the wrong way. I went bright red and swivelled around on the stairs; the view out was good, but not as memorable as what I had been staring at. During the afternoon one of the crew approached me while I was alone and switched off my microphone pack. He told me to be careful and said the presenter had a bit of a reputation as a flirt and tease with married men. I thanked him for the advice, and he turned my microphone set back on.

It gave me a lot to think about. I did not want to be taken for a fool but also did not want to miss out if there was a chance of some fun with her. We visited one more property, which was dreadful, and although we had to walk around, we all knew it was a waste of time.

I could not stop enthusing about the farmhouse, but my wife could only see the work and not its amazing potential. Looking back, there were far more cracks apparent than just the physical ones in the walls.

I went to the spa later in the evening; it was a little busier than before, and I knew that a swim would be all the excitement I would get today. I was preparing to leave when the presenter appeared in another one-piece costume, a riot of bold-coloured stripes. I waited at the pool's deep end and watched her swim slowly towards me. She trod water a few feet away and smiled as she asked if I was looking forward to the last day of property views.

“The farmhouse has been my favourite so far; the view was amazing.” I knew it was a clumsy comment, and I hoped she would not be offended.

“How do you think the view could be improved?” She tilted her head to one side as she asked.

I imagined what she might look like under those clothes, under the one-piece costume I had stared at a couple of days ago. I could feel my cock starting to stiffen in my shorts. I also realised she could so easily be talking about the views of the countryside. Were we talking at crossed purposes? Was I making a fool of myself?

“I’m not sure it could be improved; from up on the roof, it was perfect.”

She moved a little closer; there were no other swimmers nearby.

“What about your wife?”

“I don’t think she was very keen on the property.” I knew I’d been misreading the signals.

She moved even closer before almost whispering to me. “But if you saw something you liked, you wanted, would you pursue it on your own?”

Were we talking about houses or something very different? I desperately grasped for a smart and witty answer to tell her how I felt without making a fool of myself. Before I had a chance to answer, I felt her hand against my chest. It moved deliberately down until she held it over my half-erect cock. She could feel the answer to her question in my almost instant reaction as my cock swelled quickly. I did not dare move; my hands were glued to the side of the pool. She moved beside me and snaked her hand into my shorts, giving my cock a few firm strokes.

“I don’t think we need to worry about your wife then.” She moved one hand to my shoulder and continued to stroke my fully erect cock with her other hand.

“No, yes, you are right. I would like to.” I knew I was mumbling and making no sense.

“Are you hungry?” She caught me totally off guard with that.

“Have you eaten lately?” She smiled mischievously as she said it. I had no idea how to answer; I’d eaten a couple of hours ago, but something told me she was not talking about dinner.

“Are you coming?” She was wanking me under the water, and I did not want her to stop.

“Coming?” My brain was overloaded.

“I need to be eaten, if you can spare me some time.” As she said it, she withdrew her hands and moved a couple of feet away. “Are you coming?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

She swam to the steps, and I followed, gazing at her body and legs as she climbed out in front of me. Halfway up the ladder, I remembered I was fully hard in my shorts and tried to adjust myself. She laughed out loud as she watched me, which caused a couple of people to look in our direction. We pulled on the hotel towelling robes, and she led me out of the spa to the lifts. She kissed me passionately as the doors were closing, with her hand grabbing at my cock, keeping me hard.

The lift doors opened, and she led me to her room, next door to the room my wife and I were in. As soon as the door closed, she took complete control. We stripped off our wet costumes and dried quickly before she lay on the bed.

“Eat me.” She said, and I crawled up the bed, kissing her legs and thighs as I did. Her body was even better than I had imagined; her breasts stood proud and firm, topped with dark nipples. Her pubic mound was prominent and completely smooth. Her pussy lips were already slightly open and glistening by the time I placed the first kiss upon them. She tasted sweet, and her juices ran over my chin as I lapped and explored her with my tongue.

From the moment I reached her pussy, she continually encouraged and guided me. She howled and whimpered, cried out and gasped with every movement I made. There was no mistaking how turned on she became; she got louder and more urgent in her calling and cries. I’d always enjoyed giving oral like this and found myself teasing and edging her just below orgasm. She urged me on, thumping the bed with her hands, shouting encouragement louder and louder.

I pressed two fingers into her and soon found her “G-spot,” which was like flipping a switch into overdrive. I was worried the whole hotel would hear her cries; she was almost screaming her encouragement. I felt I had to drive her into orgasm to save us from the hotel staff banging on the door after complaints about her noise. She shuddered and shook violently, and I sat back on my heels to watch her with great satisfaction. It took her a while to speak; her skin was patchy, and her nipples stood up proudly.

“Let’s fuck.” Was all she said as she beckoned me to her.

Her pussy was soppy with her juices but felt tight, warm, and tight. As soon as I began to thrust, her verbal encouragement resumed as before. It was such a turn-on to know how much she was enjoying the experience, knowing I was thrilling this gorgeous young woman. She wrapped her legs and arms around me, calling out all the time. I tried to kiss her, but she resisted; perhaps my face smeared in her own juices put her off.

I knew I would not last long as she had encouraged me to fuck at a furious pace. I could feel her pussy pulsing and squeezing me; I was not sure if she was coming again or just very skilled and controlled. I did not care either way; it was thrilling and the best fuck I had enjoyed for years.

“I’m coming.” I managed to say, barely heard above the cacophony of her ecstasy.

I thrust as hard and deep as I could and held myself as I filled her with my seed, payment indeed for the thrills she had given me. We lay panting together for a few minutes before she wriggled out from under me.

“I hope we didn’t disturb your wife.” She said as she stood beside the bed. I stared at her perfect body, watching a trail of cum running down her inner thigh. I wanted to stay in that room forever. I knew she was who I had been listening to at night; I wondered who her other lovers had been.

“You should make a move.” She pulled on her robe as if to signal the encounter was over. I pulled my cold, wet swim shorts on under my robe and bade her farewell.

“I hope we can do this again.” Was my parting comment as I made for the door.

“You’ve been ages. You should have been here half an hour ago. I thought someone next door was being murdered. I called reception to complain about the noise.” I was barely listening as my wife rattled on and on. I showered and climbed into bed and listened to my wife gently sleeping while I thought about the events of the evening.

The following day, we visited a couple of smaller properties; decorated and ready to move in. My wife was much keener, but my heart had been lost to that farmhouse and the views. The presenter was so much warmer and chattier with me, flirty even.

Two years later, I’m living in that farmhouse in Italy. It took some renovating, but it was worth every hour and penny spent. The views are amazing, and whenever she has the chance, the presenter comes to stay for a few days. The sex is unbelievable. I know she sleeps around when she is working, but I don’t own her, and we don’t speak about it. The divorce was quite painless. It turned out my wife had been seeing a woman she worked with for a year, so we were both happy to be free.

If you get a chance to really live, to do something new, grab it with both hands, dive in, and take that chance.