Part 2 : And she said....

…….she was of northern European descent, a mix of German and Danish, which blessed her with many naturally strong features. She was taller than the average English woman, probably about 5’9. She was slim, the result of a healthy diet, regular yoga classes and her good, Teutonic genes. Her hair was shoulder length and quite straight. The overall effect was blonde, but was, naturally, composed of many different shades and tones, some quite golden, some silver and others almost chestnut. She had quite strikingly pale green eyes that drew you in whenever you met her stare. Her eyebrows were quite strong. They were clearly well crafted, but Caroline left them a little thicker than most women, adding to her stunning Arian appearance. She had a long, straight nose and full, sensual lips. Her cheekbones were high and she had a powerful, yet still feminine, jaw line. Her skin tone was quite pale, but glowed from within and gave an overwhelming impression of good health. She was one of those ladies who looked incredibly good without any makeup on whatsoever, and when she did wear it she applied it only to her eyes and lips, but in quite dark tones, giving her that ‘femme fetal’ look.

I remember she had taken to wearing a pair of half-moon tortoiseshell spectacles when reading, and the effect, when she looked over the top of them at you, was both unnerving and incredibly erotic at the same time. She definitely had that ‘sexy librarian’ look about her when she wanted it.

I suppose, as a young man, I could not help being drawn to the sight of her striking physique. She had rather large breasts, definitely bigger than the average, and she was not afraid to show off the fact by wearing tight sweaters and low-cut tops. I suspect that they were perhaps not as pert as they must have once been, but they maintained a good shape despite her age and sat as high on her chest as someone ten years her junior.

Anyway, I was smitten. I would invent numerous fantasy scenarios whereby the beautiful Caroline would seduce me and make a man of me; little knowing that something along those lines was indeed to come true one day.

* * *

Pete and I were eighteen. We had just left school and would be going our separate ways after the long summer break. He was to go to Edinburgh to study engineering, and I had won a scholarship to study piano and composition at the Royal Academy of Music in London. It would be the first time we had not been at school together since we were five years of age. Caroline and Geoff had decided to take a month long holiday, camping throughout France, and had suggested that I come along. It was to be something of a celebration of our impending independence, but above all, I was there as part of their family and to keep Pete company. I leapt at the offer. It was to be my first time outside of Kenya, and Pete and I made great plans to experience the exotic delights of the famously sexual French girls.

At this point in my life, I am proud to say, I was a rather handsome younger man than I am now. My body had, over the last few years, become a man’s body and as Pete and I were quite athletic boys, playing a lot of sports and working out with weights, we both had developed strong, muscular physiques. I was about five foot eight, had short dark hair, black eyes, and fairly regular features. I was luckier than many boys my age in that I had excellent skin; my mother, being something of a health nut, had always fed her kids fresh, healthy, nutritious foods.

Our trip through France began. We took our time driving southwards, taking advantage of the quiet, linear, Roman roads and reveling in the beautiful countryside around us. We would stop off at a campsite in the late afternoon and set up camp for one night only before moving on to the next port of call. The downside to this was that there was never any time for Pete and me to check out the local talent. We did eat delicious food however, in the local bistros, and I got to sample more than my fair share of the spectacular French wines.

It was during these boozy evenings that naughty, flirtatious Caroline would come out to play. I remember her asking when we “young studs planned to get laid?” Pete would just tell her to shut up and I would turn beet red. Paying no attention, she ran her hand across my chest and said, “There must be thousands of girls out there getting wet at the idea of being screwed by two muscular men like you.” I could say nothing and just kept swigging my wine, but I could feel myself as hard as a rock inside my trousers.

Geoff didn’t seem to mind his wife’s flirtatious manner. On the contrary he seemed to enjoy it and would often laugh and join in with the humiliation. Caroline once joked to Geoff that when we reached the coast we should maybe hunt out one of the famous nudist beaches in France so that they could see if I was as impressive as the rest of my body. Pete gave his mother a tongue-lashing and Geoff just burst out laughing, suggesting that that was probably a good idea. I silently prayed that they were only joking as the idea alone of standing naked before Caroline made me as stiff as a pole, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to control it in reality.

On the whole we would all laugh and joke and tell lurid tales as we drank, and then we would merrily stroll back to the campsite, Caroline linking arms with “her men” and laughing all the way back to our tents.

As I am sure you can or wouldn’t imagine, it was hellishly hot in France during July. We would rise early so as to do the majority of our driving before the noonday sun would beat down on us. Stopping in a shady spot for a long, lazy lunch of bread, cheese, pate, and fruit, and to enjoy a nap or if we could find somewhere suitable, to take a dip. Caroline would be the one to wake us boys in the mornings. She would go to our tents, unzip the flap without warning and shake you awake with soft words. You had to sleep naked because of the heat, and there were a few times when I would have to drag my sleeping bag over my body just in time to avoid…………..you know what. The idea of displaying myself to her in that condition became so exciting that one morning I decided to try it. I prayed that Geoff wouldn’t wake me for a change and lay there, my unzipped sleeping bag wide open with only my feet tucked inside. I lay there and feigned sleep.

As usual, at about seven-thirty, I heard movement outside my tent. I listened as the zipper was drawn down and then… there was silence. My feet were pointing towards the entrance and Caroline must have had a prime view of me. The silence was palpable, and I wondered if I would be able to pretend to be asleep for much longer, as my heart was hammering and my lungs were aching, desperate to take deep, calming breaths. Suddenly, I heard Caroline speak in a hushed tone, “Ooh, what do we have here?” she murmured suggestively.

I pretended to wake up and saw Caroline above me, lips slightly apart, and the hint of a smile upon them. She grinned at me and slid out of the tent telling me to “do whatever I had to do” so we could get going.

* * * * * *

We had two more days of traveling before reaching our first stop-off point. Things carried on as normal, although for some reason I lost the nerve to expose myself to Caroline the following mornings.

One afternoon we arrived at the campsite hot and sticky after a long day in the car. We all agreed that a shower was of the utmost importance. Geoff kindly set to work assembling the tents. Pete, Caroline, and I wandered off to find the shower cubicles. There was a row of about six doors side by side, and it was clear to see that they were all taken. We lined up and waited, looking forward to washing away the sticky sweat and relaxing under the jets of water. Finally, one of the doors swung open and a leather skinned gentleman with an enormous potbelly stepped out. I was about to indicate that Caroline should take it first when Pete shouted out “see you later losers,” and dashed for the door leaving his mum and I standing.

“Charming!” Caroline declared, “I blame the parents. I bet you wouldn’t allow a lady to wait in your place would you Joseph?” her emerald green eyes burning into me.

“Um, of course not,” I offered. “I am a true gentleman and would lay down my life for a beautiful maiden in distress such as you.”

Caroline laughed, looking almost girlish.

“How about the next cubicle that comes free we share? You can scrub my back, and I can see how much of a gentleman you truly are,” she suggested, looking up at me with that naughty smile of hers playing across her lips.

I immediately did my lobster impression ….

Just then, the two cubicles next to each other on the far left of the row swung open simultaneously, a pair of elderly ladies vacating at the same time.

“Oh too bad,” Caroline teased, winking at me, “we’ve no excuse now.” And she headed off towards the far end cubicle.

Once inside the shower I stripped down, hanging my shorts and T-shirt on the pegs by the door. I could already hear the water splashing down in Caroline’s cubicle and thought about her there, just two feet away, absolutely naked, the warm water playing off her wonderful body. I started my shower too and closed my eyes as I let the water consume my body.

The showers were the type with the timer button on them that you had to punch in every minute or so to keep the water flowing. I was in a dream world, enjoying the jets of hot water and thinking of Caroline when the water clicked off. I took this opportunity to soap myself and taking a generous handful of shower gel, I began to lather my body up. I heard Caroline’s shower click off too. I listened as she flipped open the cap on her bottle of shower gel. She was singing an almost inaudible tune as she washed herself down. The sound of her soft breathy voice so close to mine, the idea of her hands caressing her body right next to me was too much to bear.

Caroline had stopped singing, but her shower was still switched off, and I am sure I heard her let out a soft moan of her own. I stopped and listened closely and there it was again, an almost inaudible cry let out from the back of her throat.

When I left the shower I could see that Caroline had beaten me back to our tents, as her cubicle door lay open. I wandered back to our site, bare-chested with just a towel draped around my waste and clutching my clothes to my chest. As I arrived I saw Caroline and Geoff sitting around our little primus stove with a glass of wine each.

“Nice shower Joseph?” Caroline asked, a cheeky glint in her eye. I just muttered something back. “Mine was wonderful,” she purred and smiled a knowing smile at me.