Holiday sex comes in many guises, but most of them consist of drunken, clumsy, hotel room thrustings, followed by a certain feeling of vulnerability and a brutal hangover. During my travels in Asia last summer I never went for many one night flings for this reason, preferring to get to know the girl a bit rather than moving ahead too quickly.
Chloe changed all of that for me. She was a 23 year old, painfully pretty, blonde curly-haired Irish girl. Sweet and innocent looking, to a degree, she was around 5'5 tall and wore the kind of loose, flowing, hippie dresses that meant many a guy wouldn't notice just how beautifully curvy she was…until you took a closer look.
We met at a bar in Gili Air, Indonesia. My group from the scuba school had gone along to celebrate completing our PADI course. Chloe and her sister's friends had gathered for their last night before grabbing a boat to Mataram the next day. We finished up at the first bar, all went on to a second and third, and the hazy recollections of alcohol take over my memories for a few hours.
I remember dancing. I remember speaking to Chloe's sister in my dreadful pretend Irish accent for hours, not sure whether she was laughing with me or at me. I remember cocktails in a plethora of colors and shapes being bought and consumed.
Things became hazy - very hazy, for a few hours, and it wasn't until leaving the bar that my senses became sharp enough again to remember what was going on. Perhaps it was the fresh sea air and the nighttime breeze, a welcome change from the stifling heat of the packed reggae bar we were last in.
The next thing I knew was that I was heading towards the beach, kicking up clouds of soft, fine sand as I ventured further away from the main strip running through town. The most interesting development was that Chloe was strolling along next to me, her arm linked in mine and her pink flip flops leaving light imprints in the sand next to my Birkenstocks.
We found a spot not far from the lapping waves and sat down. I remember looking out to the sea and seeing that dusky grey color starting to set in at the horizon, the moment of stasis between blackest night and bright warm sunrise.
Chloe was staring out to sea too as I turned back to look at her. She was about to mention something about going for a swim when an uncontrollable urge to kiss her came over me. I leaned forward suddenly and planted my lips on hers, making her stiffen oh-so-momentarily in surprise, before yielding and leaning into me. We embraced, just for a moment or two, before I pulled back. She smiled at me as I brought my hand up to brush the hair away from her face.
She went to say something else and I darted in mischievously to kiss her again, stopping her from talking. As I moved back she went to talk again. I kissed her again, silencing her. She tried to talk several more times… each time I leapt in and interrupted her with another kiss, before she burst into giggles and gave up.
We sat for a moment in silence, looking into each other's eyes. I like to think there was nothing that needed to be said at that point, but perhaps she'd just given up trying to say anything. After a couple of minutes she leapt to her feet. "I'm going for a swim!" she proclaimed.
She began walking towards the shore. After a few steps she stopped, without hesitation, and lifted her dress up, over her shoulders, and dropped it into the sand next to her. She was wearing black knickers and a simple black bra - nothing overly provocative but right there and then it was the hottest thing I could ever imagine.
She turned to look at me over her shoulder. "You coming then?" she questioned, before turning and running towards the sea.#
I admired her tanned, exposed figure just for a moment before I stood up, pulled off my tee shirt, shorts, and sandals - in record time - and ran down the beach after her.
I leapt into the water. It was beautifully warm, and
Chloe changed all of that for me. She was a 23 year old, painfully pretty, blonde curly-haired Irish girl. Sweet and innocent looking, to a degree, she was around 5'5 tall and wore the kind of loose, flowing, hippie dresses that meant many a guy wouldn't notice just how beautifully curvy she was…until you took a closer look.
We met at a bar in Gili Air, Indonesia. My group from the scuba school had gone along to celebrate completing our PADI course. Chloe and her sister's friends had gathered for their last night before grabbing a boat to Mataram the next day. We finished up at the first bar, all went on to a second and third, and the hazy recollections of alcohol take over my memories for a few hours.
I remember dancing. I remember speaking to Chloe's sister in my dreadful pretend Irish accent for hours, not sure whether she was laughing with me or at me. I remember cocktails in a plethora of colors and shapes being bought and consumed.
Things became hazy - very hazy, for a few hours, and it wasn't until leaving the bar that my senses became sharp enough again to remember what was going on. Perhaps it was the fresh sea air and the nighttime breeze, a welcome change from the stifling heat of the packed reggae bar we were last in.
The next thing I knew was that I was heading towards the beach, kicking up clouds of soft, fine sand as I ventured further away from the main strip running through town. The most interesting development was that Chloe was strolling along next to me, her arm linked in mine and her pink flip flops leaving light imprints in the sand next to my Birkenstocks.
We found a spot not far from the lapping waves and sat down. I remember looking out to the sea and seeing that dusky grey color starting to set in at the horizon, the moment of stasis between blackest night and bright warm sunrise.
Chloe was staring out to sea too as I turned back to look at her. She was about to mention something about going for a swim when an uncontrollable urge to kiss her came over me. I leaned forward suddenly and planted my lips on hers, making her stiffen oh-so-momentarily in surprise, before yielding and leaning into me. We embraced, just for a moment or two, before I pulled back. She smiled at me as I brought my hand up to brush the hair away from her face.
She went to say something else and I darted in mischievously to kiss her again, stopping her from talking. As I moved back she went to talk again. I kissed her again, silencing her. She tried to talk several more times… each time I leapt in and interrupted her with another kiss, before she burst into giggles and gave up.
We sat for a moment in silence, looking into each other's eyes. I like to think there was nothing that needed to be said at that point, but perhaps she'd just given up trying to say anything. After a couple of minutes she leapt to her feet. "I'm going for a swim!" she proclaimed.
She began walking towards the shore. After a few steps she stopped, without hesitation, and lifted her dress up, over her shoulders, and dropped it into the sand next to her. She was wearing black knickers and a simple black bra - nothing overly provocative but right there and then it was the hottest thing I could ever imagine.
She turned to look at me over her shoulder. "You coming then?" she questioned, before turning and running towards the sea.#
I admired her tanned, exposed figure just for a moment before I stood up, pulled off my tee shirt, shorts, and sandals - in record time - and ran down the beach after her.
I leapt into the water. It was beautifully warm, and
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