by Falls, K. C.
I was at a loss. I wondered what was expected of me.
"I thought it would be good for you to discover how liberating it can be to enjoy the sun, a meal or a drink, even a little shopping wearing nothing but your beautiful skin," Tristan said matter-of-factly as if he were proposing we take a pleasant hike or a dip in a pretty lake.
We arrived at a marina and Kwan pulled up beside a yacht. King's Risk looked huge to me. It was easily the largest private boat I'd ever seen in person.
"I can't stand the actual hotels here at Cap d'Agde. About the only thing I can say about them is that they're clean. So, we'll stay on King's Risk. I keep her exclusively in the Med. She's a sweet little boat--perfect for a small sea like the Mediterranean."
"Little boat?"
"This boat isn't even considered a mega-yacht. She's only a hundred and twenty feet. I've never been much of a boat person, really. If we get a wild hair to sail around the world in style, there's always charter."
Did he know what it did to my insides when he threw out a casual 'we' like that? Everything else receded while my brain took a time out to sing 'he said we! he said we! he said we!'.
We got out of the car and I was welcomed aboard the boat by Captain Shane, a nice looking guy from Palm Beach, Florida. The steward, Carlos, escorted us to a deck space encircled by leather cushioned seats. There was a bucket of champagne and glasses waiting for us there. Carlos popped the cork and left us.
I cleared my throat. "So, uhm, we're here to 'experience' a nude beach?"
"Not just any nude beach. And not just a beach, either. This may be the only place in the world where you can go to a bank, buy groceries or have your hair cut in the buff."
I had to laugh out loud at the image of a naked barber shearing Tristan's locks. But it was a bit of a nervous laugh.
"You're game aren't you? I mean it isn't as if you're the only naked person around. Just you, me and thousands of others." If his boyish grin was meant to be persuasive, it worked.
I was ready to do anything to please this man, even if it meant shedding my clothes in front of thousands of strangers. I told him as much. "If it makes you happy to see people staring at me . . ."
"Oh don't be ridiculous. The whole point is no one is going to stare at you. We're all naked. There are families on that beach--with little kids." My eyes widened at that statement. "Unless you go to the adults only section, it's all pretty tame. Seniors, kids, fat, young, beautiful, skinny, scarred, natural and un. They're all there."
Tame, just naked tame. I'd been skinny dipping at a couple of lifeguard parties. That wasn't terrible. Of course, it was in the dark and it was all people I worked with and saw in bathing suits every day. How bad could that be?
But hundreds of strangers seemed a lot different.
Three
We spent the evening in the clothed part of Cap d'Agde. L'Ami Louis was a tiny restaurant just a block from the marina. It had a lovely view of the sea and the food couldn't have been better. I had my first taste of foie gras and in spite of my initial reservations; I wound up absolutely gobbling it down.
"Tristan," I had objected, "I hate liver. Liver in any form is disgusting. I've tried it many ways. People have twisted my arm over the years telling me how good this liver or that liver is and the bottom line is that it all tastes like liver. Bleh."
He promised that he would service my body in any way I desired if I would only give the poor fatted goose's organ a chance. Even though I knew that wasn't much of a promise considering that he'd do that anyway I made him promise to suck my toes while he fucked me senseless.
"That will demand a good bit of flexibility on your part, but if you can manage, I'll happily comply. Now try the liver."
The foie gras had been lightly sautéed and served on a simply dressed bed of greens. I took a timid bite. The liver melted like a chocolate truffle against the roof of my mouth. "Oh God. It tastes like a slab of fried butter. Now I see what all the fuss is about."
"Now say, 'I'm sorry Tristan, I'll never doubt you again'"
"I'm sorry Tristan. I'll never doubt you again."
"That's more like it." He reached across the table and stroked one and then the other cheek with the back of his cool fingers. "Have I told you how beautiful, how superbly and utterly desirable you look tonight?"
I had chosen a little red dress, just a slip, really and a pair of barely there but mile high sandals encrusted all over with crystals. I recognized the signature red soles and knew I was wearing Christian Louboutin again. We were becoming old friends.
I brushed my hair 'til it shone and pinned it back on one side with a crystal encrusted comb I had found in a box in my closet on board the King's Risk. All of the clothes that had been on the airplane magically appeared in the master stateroom on the yacht with some new additions. The accessory box was one of them. There were several pairs of earrings including a pair of large heart-shaped red crystals set around with smaller clear ones. They matched perfectly and had to have been chosen with the dress in mind. Tristan's personal shopper was extremely good at the job.
"I knew red was going to be one of the colors I liked best on you. Your hair picks up the warm tone so nicely. You were wrapped like an elegant Valentine last night. Did you enjoy the blindfold, my sweet Queen?"
As he asked, he trailed his hand down my chest and back and forth across my nipple. It immediately sprang to life. I stuttered a breathless "yes" as he crossed my chest to make both nipples match. Then he drew his hand up to my throat and tickled softly at my neck.
"I had debated about the ruby necklace, but I see that I made the right decision. Much as I think you deserve to be dripping in jewels, this," he said as he slid his fingers against my flesh, "swan's neck needs no decoration."
My hand shot up to my earlobe in the realization that I was wearing a couple of rubies the size of dimes. I'm sure my eyes grew wider even as I made a huge effort to appear nonchalant. I nervously repositioned the crystal comb behind my ear with the realization that it, too, might be more than just a costume ornament.
"You can thank Kwan for that. I told him to find some unique things that might suit you. He's a ridiculous shop-a-holic. Carte blanche and an internet connection and he's off to the races. But I have to admit he's good at it."
"I'll have to thank him. It's very unique." I took a sip of my wine. "Of course, pretty much everything since the day we met has been unique."
Kwan followed behind us as we strolled back to the boat under the stars. It's a damn good thing it was only a block. As pretty as my sandals were, they were strictly made for standing around looking good, not walking an uneven sidewalk. I held on to Tristan's arm as much for balance as for the romance of walking arm in arm.
King's Risk rocked gently in her slip, softly lit by dozens of small brass lanterns hung all around the decks. The lights gave off a soft amber glow that invited us to sit and relax on deck. The night was cool and our body clocks made it seem early.
The steward brought Tristan's favorite--his snifters and a bottle of Armagnac.
"Care for some?"
"I'm so full I don't think I have anywhere to put another drop of anything." I relaxed against the soft white cushions and watched the waning activity in the marina. Here and there I heard the tinkle of laughter or a bit of conversation but otherwise the only sound was the slap-slap of small waves against the boat's hull.
Tristan poured a modest dram of the brandy in a snifter and held it to his nose. "Let's just share a sip, then." Not for the first time I noticed how perfectly formed his features were. I read somewhere that the most beautiful faces are the ones that are the most symmetrical. I was willing to bet that if you sliced pictures of Tristan's face right down the center and pasted like sides together the results would be identical.
His nose was delicate and masculine at the same time. It might have been a rather sharp nose in any other face. But on him, bisecting his high cheekbones and the hollows beneath them; ending exactly at the indentati
on above his generous lips, it was the only nose for such a face.
He held the snifter to my lips and I took a small sip. I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. The complex flavor and gentle burn of the liquor infused my mouth and warmed my throat.
I could feel Tristan move closer to me but I didn't open my eyes. I allowed myself to simply feel him moving toward my face and waited for the softness of his lips against mine. He took my lower lip in his and pulled it sweetly between his teeth. Then he pressed his mouth into mine and found my tongue. He traced across my teeth and around the "O" that formed from my desire.
Kisses landed like embers against my temples, my chin, my neck. He took my earlobe between his teeth and I heard the scrape of ruby against the pearls of his teeth as he nibbled at me there. I felt chills as his warm breath hissed into my ear and he whispered sweet salty words to set me ablaze.
"Every part of you is worthy of worship. Even your little ear--a delicate pink shell. The ruby is honored just by piercing you." He bit down, hard, and I cried out. "I'm going to pierce you too. My cock will own you, and nothing else will matter to you except me--hard and hot--between your thighs."
I could barely exhale a groan.
"How will I fuck you tonight, my Queen? Is there an unspoken fantasy I can bring to life? Is there something you conjure when your delicate hand privately works your exquisite clit?" At that he reached between my legs and clutched my pussy.
"Oh God, Tristan . . ." I was so in heat it was insane. I didn't need fantasy or magic thoughts when Tristan's hand was right there. What I needed was him, inside me. "All I want . . . just . . ."
"Say it."
"Fuck me now. Hard, fast. Just take me." The whole evening had been foreplay. What I wanted was to be full of the man.
I expected him to lead me to the stateroom. Instead, he stood me up and pulled my panties down to my feet. I kicked them aside and watched as he unbuckled, unzipped and freed his erection in seconds. He sat back against the cushions. The soft lantern light shone on the shiny smooth skin of his cockhead, already wet with desire. I'd never considered a penis a thing of beauty, but Tristan had a way of changing my way of thinking about a lot of things.
I couldn't decide whether to take him in my mouth first or simply straddle him. He read my indecision. "Ride me, just the way you know you want to . . ."
The thought crossed my mind that there were other people on board King's Risk and other boats in the marina possibly with people on deck who could see us. In the end, it didn't matter. I had to have him. I straddled his lap and he slid into me instantly. His kisses and his words were all it took to bring me to that blissful state where I was hot and wet with need.
I rocked against him slowly at first, just savoring being full of Tristan's thick, hard dick. Soon urgency overtook me and my body began to fold into itself like some origami figure taking shape as it grew smaller and more intricate with each crease.
His held my hips in his hands but only to balance me. This was my ride, my turn to control the pace. Somehow the complete permission to selfishly take my pleasure from his body made me want to please him more. I began to contract the muscles inside me with each inward stroke tightening myself around him as hard as I could manage.
"That feels amazing . . . fuck . . . I didn't know you could do that." His eyes, which had been open and watching me, closed and his head dropped back against the cushion. "Don't stop . . . don't ever stop."
I was happy that concentrating on giving to him had slowed my rocket paced arousal. I wanted him to come with me and I wanted him to come hard. "Nothing could stop me from wanting you, Tristan. Nothing."
He lifted his head back up and drew my face toward his. Our kiss matched the rhythm of the intense languid motion of our hips. Each thrust seemed deeper than the last and with each squeeze of my pussy he seemed to grow harder and thicker inside me. He started to groan in earnest and with each sound, my desire grew and my body's need pressed harder.
Sensing that he was at the point of no return, I began to buck furiously against him, grinding my clit into his bone each time his cock reached its deepest point. Abandoning myself to the sensation was my only option once I felt my body tense with the inevitability of climax. He could sense it and began to murmur "yes, yes, yes" as his own release overcame him. He slammed my hips against his just as I started to contract. I pressed my clit hard onto him, pushing my hands down on his shoulders as my back arched. My orgasm gripped his exploding cock and drank the hot jets he pumped into me. Oh sweet heaven, what a union. This man. This man. This man.
We sat, joined and panting. My head on his shoulder, his arms around my waist.
"Oh what you do to me . . . you . . . you," he sighed. "You make me feel so fucking alive."
***
"It's still early in the States, right?" We were nearly ready to turn off the lights and snuggle ourselves to sleep when I had a sudden flash of worry about my parents. "I'd like to phone home."
"No problem," Tristan answered as he handed me his cell phone. "Please give them my regards." He got up out of bed.
"You needn't leave the room. I just want to check in on them." There wasn't anything he couldn't hear, but I found his gesture thoughtful anyway. He was unfailingly polite.
"Are you going to tell them where we are?" he grinned at me.
"Only partially. I know my parents already think the world of you but . . ."
"And you? Do you think the world of me?"
I had already dialed their number when he asked. I would very much have liked to tell him what I thought of him, but I had to settle for a nod of my head because Mom answered on the first ring.
"Hi Tristan," she said brightly. She probably programmed his number in her phone weeks ago.
"No, Mom, it's me. How is everything?"
"Everything's good, very quiet. Your father is itching to go back to work."
"Is that a good idea?"
"Well, Archie told us that the two creeps who beat Dad up are back in Chicago, at their union headquarters. With them gone and the two bodyguards with us, I can't imagine any trouble."
"Probably not."
"Besides, you father is going to drive me utterly insane. I am seriously worried about what I'm going to do when it's time for him to retire."
"I hear ya, Mom."
"So, where has he taken you?"
To the moon, to the stars, to heaven. "We're in France. Private jet, big yacht. The whole nine yards."
"It sounds wonderful. You're a lucky girl." It was odd to hear my mother say something like that. Normally she would have registered at least token disapproval. Most of the time it was easy for Mom to pretend that I was as celibate as a nun. Because most of the time I was. The few times that she had to acknowledge I was screwing some guy, she did so reluctantly. It was as if her motherly duty was to at least pay lip service to the moral code she had done a half-assed job of instilling in me. But this time, with Tristan, she seemed to approve, if not actually celebrate my misbehavior.
Was it the money? Did the thought of her daughter hooking up with a billionaire miraculously change her standards? As soon as I had those thoughts I felt ashamed of myself. No man--no boy, really--had ever so much as considered my parents. The few times I'd brought a guy home to meet them it was as if they were doing me a favor to even be there. Frankly, even I found the guys of my generation rude.
Now here comes Tristan, only seven or eight years older than I and he's like a knight in shining armor. No one asked him to step in and take charge. He could have easily ignored my parents' situation and I wouldn't have even noticed. But he didn't and in doing what he did may very well have saved my father's life. No wonder Mom was so infatuated with him. Who could blame her?
Who could blame me?
Four
We left the dock early the next morning. Tristan explained that we'd anchor off shore and take the little rubber dingy into the beach.
"You really don't want to stand in
line for an hour waiting to get into the village," he told me. "Fortunately, it's September. I've never been here in August, but I'm told it's a real zoo. Most of Europe takes the entire month off."
We zipped close into shore and Kwan stopped the boat Tristan jumped into the water with a waterproof bag and I followed him. He told Kwan that we'd call when we were ready to be picked up. I watched the dingy disappear quickly toward the far end of the sands.
Paddling toward the sand at a leisurely pace, we used the waterproof bag as a float. I watched Tristan reach under the surface and wiggle himself out of his bathing suit.
"Is there a rule…I mean about being naked?"
"You're asking whether you're required to be in the buff?"
"Yes."
"I don't think there's a rule, per se. You'd just get some dirty looks--and not in a nice way. Naturists don't appreciate gawkers and that's what is assumed if a clothed person shows up on a nude beach, but mostly that applies to guys. You can certainly keep your bottoms on. Women often do, especially if they have their period."
"I think I'll start with that." I untied my top and slung it over the floating bag.
"Suit yourself. This isn't a test. We're here to have fun and be liberated. Just swimming naked like this feels great to me. I hate wearing a bathing suit. Especially when there's any hint of sand involved." He smiled and did a surface dive. I watched his tight ass crest the water and disappear for a moment.
"You'd better slather on the sunscreen on that butt of yours. It's as white as snow," I said when he came up for air.
"Oh, don't worry, there's plenty in the bag. And I'm looking forward to you making sure I'm well protected all over."
Tristan was absolutely right about the beach. As soon as we stepped out of the water I realized what the whole point was. At first I felt self-consciously beautiful. That was weird. I, who had never thought of myself as particularly stunning, stood in the bright sunshine with the breeze on my breasts and felt utterly gorgeous.
