We were due a holiday. The last one was a disaster. A package tour to what turned out to be an unfinished hotel in a not very nice resort. We were glad to be home. Rather than repeat the mistake, we decided to book just the outward ferry and to drive to the south of france as fast as possible. Sharing the driving, and using toll roads, we could probably do it in a day. We booked an overnight crossing with a cabin, left home on friday evening and were in France in time for an early breakfast, having ticked off another first, an on-board fuck. St Tropez was the target, we almost made it, eventually stopping at a small hotel near Le Lavandou. We fell in love with the place, I don't know what it's like now, but back then is was quite unspoiled, very french. What had attracted me to St Trop, was memories of Brigit Bardot films and the idea of topless beaches. We went one better, we found a naturist beach. Accessible only via a narrow unsurfaced track which ended in a small parking area, entry was through a wooden building that served as a gatehouse, office, changing rooms and shop/cafe. From there you descended on a steep rocky path to the sheltered bay. Most of it was gently shelving beach, with the only water deep enough for swimming, off a rocky outcrop. Even access by water was difficult. A perfect spot for a private beach. We were allowed to view it, then had to become members for a week. Any thoughts of nubile starlets getting an overall tan were soon dispelled, aparently the season had not started, it was mid-May. There were only a few middle-aged coulples. And judging by the way that their eyes tracked us, we were the visual treat for them. How many times was Rachel fantasy fucked in those few days? And how many wives lay under their husbands imagining that it was my cock instead? Rachel exploited the situation mercilessly, having to keep going back for forgotten items, or to buy something from the cafe. We quickly fell into a routine of beach in the mornings, lunch, sex and siesta, sightseeing in the afternoons, dinner, more sex, sleep. Each day the sun became stronger, each day there were a few more people. One morning I was beginning to think that perhaps the sun was getting too strong for me, there are parts where sunburn is not a good idea, when a shadow fell across me. But the sky had been cloudless. I opened my eyes to investigate. Tits. My sun was being blocked by tits. But not just any tits, the finest pair I had ever seen. They were attached to a golden godess. Tall, golden hair, golden skin, neatly trimmed golden pubes. Pale blue eyes, pink lips. But it was those tits that commanded the attention. Gravity defying. Surely silicon? They were tipped by large, ripe rasberry nipples. A vision. An angel perhaps? The angel was speaking. Some language that I didn't understand. It could have been english, but my brain had been fried. Rachel's voice snapped me from my trance; "English." "Ah, english. Good, I like english. Do you mind if we sit here?" I looked across to Rachel for her opinion. Her eyes were glued to the goddess's male counterpart, also in gold. Tall, muscled but not muscular. But the main attraction was the extraordinary appendage sprouting from his golden pubes, the biggest cock I have ever seen. I managed to speak; "No, we don't mind. We will have to leave soon anyway, the sun is becoming too strong for us." "But we have umbrellas, you can share." Just being close was a priveledge, this woman had surely materialised from some centrefold, was she real? She intrduced herself as Inge, from Denmark, donkey dick was her husband Jens. They set up, it was like a camp, umbrellas, beach matresses, towels, a huge cold box. Then they began oiling each other, a pornographic act in itself. At last they settled, the two of them in full sun while we kept to the shade. And for the first time, I was able to remove the towel covering my raging erection. Soon, the sun proved too hot for them too. " We, swim, then we must go." She pulled me to my feet and ran into the water, Rachel and Jens followed. I am not a good swimmer, but I had to seek the deeper water close to the headland, so that my re-awoken hard-on was beneath the water line. Inge was perfectly aware of my plight, 'accidentally' brushing by, letting those incredible tits bump into me. I started to swim, this just encouraged her, she was a good swimmer, she swam rings around me, dived under me, brushing my keel, and swam on her back so that her tits broke the surface. If I had swam on my back, I would have had my own periscope. I looked to see how Rachel was getting on. She was in good hands. Jens'. She was waist deep in the water, leaning back against him, his big hands cupping a tit in each. We returned to camp and dried off, then headed for the changing rooms. Before they left, they invited us fot dinner at their hotel in St. Tropez, next day. Back in our hotel room, we fell on each other. Our fuck was frenzied, Rachels cunt seeming to milk a prodigious amount of spunk from my eager cock. As we lay recovering, I ventured; "Was that me you were fucking." Rachel laughed. "You noticed. What about you and Miss Universe?" "Touchè. " Since our unfinished dalliance with group sex involving Gino and Gina, we had agreed that we wanted more, but we had been unable to succeed. This meeting seemed promising, but why we had been chosen, as we were sure we had been, was still unknown. We agreed that we would go with the flow, there was a risk, but who dares… I reached for Rachel, ready for seconds, but she wriggled away saying; "Save it for Inge, you wouldn't want to disappoint her. In bed later, I tried again, she pushed me away. I dozed off, only to be awoken by unmistakeable movements from her side of the bed. She was masturbating. I reminded her of what she had said. "Men just don't get it," she replied. "I could fuck ten times a day and more, women do not run out of juice. It's you who has to save up. But I'll let you watch. " I did. It just aggravated my problem. The next morning, Rachel decided that we should go into St. Trop to recce the hotel where we would be dining and hopefully, more. If, as she suspected, it was upmarket, she would need suitable clothes. She had brought a dress for smart dining, and I had brought a suit, but it was raining, some retail therapy was in order. We took a look at the hotel, certainly five star. Rachel's clothing budget escalated. What she came away with was certainly eye-catching, a strapless mini dress with, apparently, a built in bra. A lacy suspender belt with matching, very brief breifs, deep welt lace top stockings and very high-heeled shoes. A whole outfit? Really? I bought a new shirt. The stockings cost more than the shirt. And it was not a cheap shirt! I watched as she dressed to go out. She looked stunning, the french really can do underwear. I couldn't keep my hands off her. Or my lips, but she would do nothing about my painfully hard cock and aching balls. "If," she promised, "what we are hoping for tonight doesn't happen, I'll suck you off on the way home." You can't argue with that. Our vikings were waiting for us, Inge wore an ankle-length halter neck dress in Wedgewood blue silk, it hung from her curves like blue cream dripping fron her naked body. It concealed nothing. She looked better dressed than she had nude. The restaurant was certainly upmarket, wine glasses wsre never empty. I noticed that out hosts drank sparingly and did the same. Rachel however, seemed intent on getting 'mellow'. During the meal, we were gently interrogated and they told us a little about themselves. Home was Copenhagen, but they had a villa 'along the coast', which was where they were heading the next day. A pianist played wallpaper music throughout. There was a tiny dance floor, after dessert, Inge pulled me onto it. "Do you like my dress?" She asked, doing a twirl. I said that I did. She was at last in my arms. "I cannot were a bra with it, it is too sheer, dut I have to wear trusser, how do you say, underpants? " "Knickers." "Knickers, yes. Good word." She moved my hand from her waist to her hip. I could just feel the slight indentation where the waist, no more than a string, pressed into her flesh. With my fingertips, I followed the string over the curve of her buttock to the top of her arse-cleavage. I cupped a cheek in each hand and pulled her against my erection, she ground her belly against it. "Is that for me?" She husked. "If you want it." She laughed her golden laugh and moved away to the music. When she returned to my embrace, she said into my ear; "My husband would like to fuck your wife." There, it was in the open. I replied; "I think she would like that." The dance ended, we returned to the table. I sat, she held out a hand to Rachel. "Powder our noses?" She invited. When they came back, Rachel looked flushed. She drew me onto the dance floor and whispered excitedly; "It's on, we are invited to their room." The rooms, were in fact individual cabins. There was a covered walkway leading to them. Their cabin was one of the furthest from the main building, "for seclusion." Rachel was unsteady on her feet, Jens had an arm found her waist to support her, they led the way. They stopped outside the door, Inge had the key in her tiny handbag. As they turned, we could see that Jens had popped both of Rachels tits out of her dress, he lowered his head and latched his mouth onto a stiff nipple. Inge handed the key to me to unlock the door, the key stuck in the lock. The three of them filed through as I struggled to free it. By the time I did, then closed and locked the door from the inside, Jens was lying back on one of the twin double beds with his legs over the end and his pants round his ankles. Rachel was kneeling between his thighs, aquainting her mouth with his megacock. Inge was facing me, the dress pooled at her feet. She was holding the miniscule knickers, these days we would call them a thong, away from her body. "I am very wet," she announced. Nectar of the gods? I knelt before her, a supplicant, placed my hands on her divine arse-cheeks, and drew her silk clad cunt to my wide-open mouth. She squealed with delight, I pulled the fabric aside and slid my tongue into the moist slit. Alongside us, Jens disengaged Rachel from his cock and removed his clothes, Rachel stripped off her dress and knickers and crawled up the bed to Jens. Inge pushed me away, peeled off the wet slip off material and then helped me out of my clothes. She sat, then lay back on the bed as Jens had, I knelt and took my place. Before I resumed my feast, I had time to watch Rachel guide Jens cunt-stretcher into herself. Inge came quickly under the determined assault from my tongue, and not a moment too soon for me, ten seconds more and my cock would have spontaneousy combusted. How I managed to get it inside her without spilling it I will never know. I thrust slow and deep, trying to delay the inevitabe. In this over-the-end position, I had a close up view of Jens' thick cock sliding in and out of Rachels cunt, her stockinged legs around his waist. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she was astride, giving an even better view of his length disapearing into her and her lips clinging to the shaft as he withdrew ready for the next thrust. He came as I watched. He stopped pumping and pulled Rachel down so that he filled her, his balls lifted, and then his whole package seemed to pulse as his seed spurted into her. Trickles of fuck-juice escaped and ran down on to his balls. If I had done nothing, I would have come anyway, I gave up the struggle, banged in a few fast stabs and emptied my aching balls high into Inge's sheath. We lay as couples, fondling and caressing. There was no conversation, we all knew that there was unfinished business. Rachel sucked Jens' cock back to life, Inge did the same for me, then mounted me cowgirl, my favourite. This gave me full access to those marvellous mammaries, I could find no tell-tale scars to suggest that they were anything other than natural. Jens positioned Rachel on all-fours and entered her from behind, doggy-style, this time. As he pounded her, I could watch her tits bounce in time to his thrusts. I lasted longer this time, Inge worked herself to an orgasm. As her aftershocks subsided, I sent my second delivery to join the first. Jens lasted much longer, giving Rachel a good workout before eventually finishing with a roar. Inge dismounted and suggested coffee. She ordered room service. Jens put on a robe when the coffee arrived. He poured, then stripped off again, clearly expecting another round. We sipped the coffe and chatted. Inge and I sat on the sofa, Jens sat at the end of a bed, Rachel sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jens finished his drink, put down his cup and turned to Rachel, ready for more. Rachel had fallen asleep. Jens gently tweaked a nipple. No effect. He traced a finger along her inner thigh. Rachel slept on, but Jens cock slowly unfurled. "Too much wine?" Suggested Inge. She and Jens had a brief conversation in Swedish. Inge turned to me, saying; "Jens wants more." She stood, moved my knees apart and bent forward, taking my limp dick into her mouth and presenting her arse to her husband. He felt for her entrance, fed himself into her and began to fuck her from behind, standing. My cock swelled to fill her mouth. We fucked from both ends. Rachel would enjoy this, two dispensers working to deliver a double dose of her favourite liquid. Jens came before I did, falling back. Inge sucked harder and I managed to feed her a few last drops of my precious fluid. As we disentangled, Rachel woke up. "Sorry," she said. "Did I miss anything?" As we dressed to leave, Our hosts continued conversing in their own language, then Inge said; "Do you have plans for the weekend?" "Why do you ask?" "Would you like to stay at our house? There will be a party at the house of a neighbour." "Thank you, we'd love to. What sort of party?" "Just friends getting together, people like us. There will be lots of fucking." As we drove back to our hotel, Rachel turned to me, reached over and placed a hand on my cock. "There will be lots of fucking," she echoed, squeezing it. Our adventure was not over.