The Croatian Adventure: A Trip into Uncharted Territory

Hi guys! Sorry for keeping you wait so long for an update, I finally found enough spare time to continue with this branch. I’ve got more updates lined up that I’ll be posting soon. Thanks for your patience and for sticking with the story!

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Julie's sweet, soft moans echoed in the room and in George's head. His cock plunged into her slick folds, each of his thrusts was met with a squelching sound, a proof of her **** wetness. It was an unusual level of moisture, sparking a thought in his mind—could this really be solely from her arousal? The air hung thick with their heat, the faint scent of sweat and sex curling around them, the sheets tangled beneath their writhing bodies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet,” he rasped out, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he pounded into her relentlessly, the bed creaking under their rhythm.

“That’s cause I’ve been properly lubricated... today and before,” Julie purred, her voice a sultry tease, dripping with confidence. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Wanting to respond, George looked at her, but was left speechless—her face was suddenly smeared with cum, such a lewd sight, both shocking and tantalizing. Streaks glistened on her cheeks, her lips, catching the dim light in a way that stopped his breath—filthy, wrong, and fuck if it didn’t pull him in like a magnet.

“Julie… what is… how did…” he stammered, his mind scrambling to catch up, torn between recoil and a dark, pulsing want that throbbed in his chest.

Her full lips curved into a teasing smile as she licked a drop off the corner of her mouth, slow and deliberate, her tongue flicking out with a wicked grace. “I've been a very bad girl... But you like seeing me so dirty, don't you?”

His heart hammered at the erotic spectacle before him. “Fuck yes,” he gasped breathlessly, eyes riveted on her debauched appearance—wild, unhinged, a stranger wearing his wife’s skin, and goddamn if she wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. “You’re so fucking hot.”

"Then come here and kiss me," Julie leaned in for a kiss, " and taste Mark's cum."

George couldn't believe what he was hearing and without warning, the scene shifted abruptly.

"Julie!"

Suddenly, George awoke with a start, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat. His heart raced as the realization sank in: it had all been a dream, so vivid and twisted, born from the fucked-up depths of his mind.

But the lingering sensations were no mere figments. Julie’s mouth was now wrapped around his cock, hot and real, her tongue swirling seductively as she sucked him deep, pulling him from sleep with every hungry motion. It was no wonder his dream had turned so strange—she was giving him head right there in the bed, her lips tight and insistent, a wake-up call he hadn’t asked for but couldn’t resist.

“Morning, babe,” she murmured, looking up at him with a wicked grin as she eased off just enough to speak, her breath brushing his tip, leaving it glistening. Her makeup was intense—dark liner smudged around her eyes, shadow heavy and bold, lips a glossy red—slutty, completely out of character for the Julie he’d known all these years. Yet the allure was undeniable, a punch to his gut that left him reeling. “Did you have nice dreams?”

“Jules,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath, still half-lost in the haze of sleep and shock. “I had some... really fucked up dreams, but... what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She slid her lips back down his shaft, taking him deep into her throat, her sultry gaze never leaving his—a challenge, a claim—leaving him weak with desire, his hands fisting the sheets as his hips twitched up against her.

“I… ahhh… I think this is… fuck, you’re so good, babe…” he managed to say, voice breaking as she worked him with a skill that scrambled his thoughts, relentless and sure.

“Enjoy it, honey,” she purred quick, popping off just long enough to flash that grin—sharp, knowing—before taking all his length in again, her throat tightening around him like she owned every inch.

George couldn’t help but succumb to her seductive charm. The dream might have been an illusion, but this moment was undeniably real—her heat, her mouth, the way she claimed him with every flick of her tongue. But then he noticed something: the sun was way too high, streaming through the blinds in harsh, bright slashes—not morning light. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table—10:47—and cursed under his breath. He’d overslept. They had plans, a whole damn day laid out, and now they were running late, the schedule thrown to hell.

“Shit, Jules, I’m sorry,” he stammered, gently pulling away from her, his cock slick and protesting as he sat up, untangling himself from her grip. “We’ve got to get going.”

“Really? Right now? Where?” Her pout was pure sex, eyes still heavy with lust, lips glistening as she lingered over him, **** to let the moment slip.

“Yeah… I’ve booked something for us… in 30 minutes… this fucking jet lag, I should’ve turned on the alarm on my phone!” He swung his legs off the bed, already reaching for his shorts, urgency clawing at him as he tried to shake the fog of her touch.

“What… another surprise? You’re crazy!” Julie said, her tone shifting from sultry to a playful lilt, though a trace of that heat lingered in her eyes. “But then…” She sighed, reluctantly releasing his cock fully and standing, stretching slow like a cat waking up—her short summer dress hugging her curves, that slutty makeup still on her face, a stark contrast to the soft morning light. “We were having so much fun…”

“I... I know, but we can’t miss this!” George insisted, rushing to gather their clothes, tossing her sandals her way with a hurried flick of his wrist. Julie slipped into the dress quick, the fabric clinging to her thighs, her provocative appearance unchanged—dark eyes smoky, red lips a dare, every inch of her radiating trouble.

“Uhm… then maybe I should clean up my makeup?” she asked cautiously, catching her reflection in the mirror—a flicker of doubt in her voice as she smoothed the dress, but her eyes still glinted with that same mischief, like she knew the power she held.

“No time. And don’t pack other than essentials, please,” George replied, barely managing to keep his gaze from lingering on her. With a shared sense of urgency, they scrambled out, racing past the hotel restaurant, bags swinging between them, the clatter of dishes and hum of voices fading behind.

“George, I’m starving,” Julie said breathlessly as they hustled through the entrance of the busy dining area, the air thick with the smell of coffee and fresh bread. “Why don’t you go grab us some coffee, and I’ll get a few pastries or something to take along. We’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Yeah, but... alright. I'm starving too,” he nodded, veering toward the coffee station, the rich, bitter scent hitting him as he dodged a waiter with a tray. Julie made a beeline for the food counter, her mind racing with their looming deadline but also with a giddy thrill she couldn’t quite shake—her pulse still up from that morning tease, from having him in her mouth, the taste of him lingering.

Her fingers moved swiftly, loading croissants, muffins, and fresh fruit onto a plate before packing them into her bag. She felt a warm flush—not just from the rush, but from the morning she’d planned to spend surprising George in bed, not scrambling to make up for lost time. The dress rode up as she bent, cool air grazing her bare legs beneath the hem, and a small smile tugged at her lips—she loved the edge it gave her, the way it felt reckless, like she was daring the world to notice.

“Excuse me, miss,” a voice broke through her thoughts—polite but firm, laced with a local accent. She glanced up, meeting the eyes of a striking young waiter who looked just as flustered by her appearance as he was by her behavior. He was tall and lean, with chiseled features typical of the good-looking men around here—dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that tried to stay professional but kept flicking, almost involuntarily, down to the neckline of her dress. “I'm sorry, but it’s against hotel policy to take food out of the restaurant.”

“Is that so?” she murmured, leaning ever so slightly toward him, a playful spark dancing in her eyes as she sized him up. “That’s a real shame. We’re in quite a hurry this morning.” She batted her lashes just enough to tease, her voice dropping soft and warm. “Isn’t there anything we could do to… make an exception?”

The waiter hesitated, visibly thrown by her charm—his professional demeanor slipping as he shifted his weight, struggling to keep his composure. “I… well…” he stammered, his voice faltering, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he swallowed hard.

“Please,” she added, lowering her tone to a soft, almost conspiratorial whisper, letting the word linger with a hint of promise laced in her smile. “I’d be so grateful.”

At that moment, George returned with two paper cups of coffee in hand, his brows raising as he caught sight of Julie in full flirtation mode—her body angled just so, that smile working its magic. He felt a quick surge of jealousy, sharp and hot, mingled with a pulse of something he didn’t expect—an undeniable thrill at seeing her so openly confident, so self-assured and unapologetic, bending the world to her will.

“Everything alright over here?” George asked, keeping his voice casual, though a faint edge crept in, betraying the twist in his gut.

“Perfectly fine,” Julie replied, casting the waiter one last slow smile, her eyes warm and enticing as she straightened up. “Our friend here has graciously agreed to let us take our breakfast on the go.” She glanced back at the flustered waiter, holding his gaze a beat longer. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, of course,” the waiter said, stumbling over his words as he nodded fast, his cheeks still noticeably flushed under her stare. “Just… this once.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice dripping with warmth and gratitude, though her eyes held that mischievous glint, a spark of triumph. She turned back to her task, quickly stuffing the last few items into her bag with a deft flick of her fingers.

George watched the whole exchange, his heart pounding with a strange mix of pride and desire—pride at her effortless sway, desire stoked by the way she wielded it. He hadn’t expected this new side of Julie, so unrestrained and bold, yet here she was, bending rules and playing the part with absolute ease. They hurried out of the restaurant with their breakfast, George leaning closer as they moved, his voice low and rough. “Remind me to start letting you handle all future negotiations.”

Julie grinned, giving him a coy glance as she swung the bag over her shoulder, her steps light and sure. “What can I say? Sometimes a little charm goes a long way.”

“Oh, I noticed,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on her with renewed appreciation—her sway, her spark, the way she glowed with it. He felt a thrill ripple through him, their morning rushed but charged with a new kind of energy he couldn’t resist, a heat that clung to them as they pushed on.

Their rental car hummed along the winding coastal road, Julie kicking off her sandals and propping her bare feet on the dashboard—dress riding higher, thighs catching the sunlight through the window. George gripped the wheel tight, knuckles whitening as his mind churned. She hummed softly to the radio, some upbeat tune, her voice light and carefree, while he stewed in silence beside her. When had she turned into this? Bold, reckless—everything he used to be, back when he’d drag her on midnight adventures, skinny-dipping in freezing lakes on a dare. Now he was the one sweating the clock, watching the minutes tick by, while she lit the fuse and danced in the flames. Her perfume—sweet, smoky, laced with a hint of that morning’s lust—filled the car, and he couldn’t shake the image of her sucking him awake, that slutty makeup smeared across her face, her eyes daring him to fall.

“Everything okay over there, Mr. Serious?” Her voice cut through his spiral, teasing but curious, pulling him back as she tilted her head to watch him.

“Just thinking,” he replied, forcing a half-smile to mask the tangle of pride, want, and unease twisting inside him—pride at her fire, want for her heat, unease at where it might lead.

“About?” she pressed, her gaze playful, head resting against the seat as she studied him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

George hesitated, the words hovering on the tip of his tongue. He could tell her he was proud of her, that he loved this new boldness blazing in her, but it felt too small, too simple. He could confess the uncertainty gnawing at him—you’re changing, and I don’t know where I fit—but that seemed unfair, too heavy for the sunlit road stretching ahead. Instead, he settled on something safe, something that danced between truth and evasion, letting the weight linger unsaid.

“About how it feels like I’m looking at a completely different woman,” he said finally, glancing over at her with a soft smile, his voice low and steady. “One I’m still trying to keep up with.”

Julie gave him a sly grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned over, giving him a light, teasing nudge on the shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, feigning sympathy, her voice dripping with playful mockery that carried a warm edge. “Who knew that beneath that steady, dependable exterior, you were secretly living on the edge, trying to keep up with little ol’ me?”

“Guess you’re not the only one who’s full of surprises,” he murmured with a wink, chuckling as she settled back into her seat, resuming her humming—content, radiant, her bare legs stretched out like she owned the world, the car, the moment. He stole another glance, catching her watching the scenery with a smile, her eyes alive with a spark he hadn’t seen in years—a spark that both thrilled him and left him wondering how far it might take them, how deep it might burn.

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They continued on, both caught up in a giddy, almost breathless excitement, knowing their relationship was evolving in ways neither of them had anticipated—the air between them crackling with it, a current George could feel in his bones. The marina loomed ahead, a sprawl of boats bobbing against weathered docks, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he glanced at the dashboard clock—11:28. Already dreading the chance their catamaran tour had sailed without them, he gunned it into a tight parking spot, tires crunching gravel, and they spilled out, bolting down the bustling dock. Julie trotted beside him in her short summer dress, the hem flapping against her thighs, looking like she’d just stepped out of a travel magazine spread—sunlit, untamed, her slutty makeup still stark under the noon glare.

When they reached the tour operator’s little shack, George’s suspicions hit hard—a faded sign listed the catamaran schedule, and sure enough, they were almost 15 minutes late, the slot glaring back in chipped paint. A large man lounged behind the counter, his rumpled shirt stretched tight over a belly spilling slightly over his waistband, crumbs clinging to a scruffy beard. He looked like he hadn’t seen a wash in days, but as they stumbled up, breathless, he greeted them with a toothy grin that split his weathered face wide.

“Hello my friends! You here for tour?” His English was broken, thick with a local drawl, but his tone was warm, welcoming, like he’d seen a hundred latecomers and didn’t give a damn.

George cleared his throat, trying to keep the frustration from spilling out. “Yes, we had a reservation for the catamaran tour, but we’re running a little late. Is there any way we could still go? I already paid in advance.” His voice carried a faint edge, the morning’s chaos still buzzing under his skin.

The man scratched his chin, his eyes sliding over to Julie with an appreciative look that wasn’t exactly subtle—lingering on her legs, her neckline, the way her dress hugged her curves. She gave him a polite smile, the kind that didn’t invite but didn’t shut down either, and edged slightly closer to George, her arm brushing his, a quiet signal she felt the stare too. The operator’s smile widened, unfazed, as he looked between them. “Catamaran gone, no more tours today,” he said with a shrug, like it was no big deal, a daily hiccup. “But… maybe we make other business, eh?”

George’s brows furrowed, suspicion prickling. “What do you mean?”

The man gestured with a meaty hand to a sleek speedboat moored a few docks over—shiny, low-slung, built for speed, not comfort. “You pay me another 100 euro cash and I got you boat. Private. You want go out, have some fun with lady, yes?” He gave a conspiratorial wink, his gaze flicking back to Julie, heavy with implication—who wouldn’t want that?

Julie’s eyes lit up, bright and eager, and she turned to George with a grin that could melt steel. “Well, that sounds like an adventure,” she said, her voice lilting with excitement, a spark dancing in her tone. “What do you say, George? It might be even more fun than the catamaran.” She bounced a little on her toes, the bag of pilfered pastries swinging at her side, her enthusiasm infectious as it always was now.

George glanced at the speedboat, then back at Julie, and felt the pull of her energy tugging him off balance. The catamaran had been the safe bet—guided, cushy, a crowd to buffer them—but this was raw, unscripted, just them and the open water. A month ago, he’d have jumped at it, dragged her along laughing; now, her grin was the push he couldn’t dodge. “Alright,” he said, nodding slow, a mix of nerves and thrill bubbling up. “We’ll take the speedboat.”

The operator clapped his hands together with a grin, the sound sharp in the salty air, and reached for a set of keys on a rusty hook behind him. “Good, good! I lend you my best boat. Just bring back by sunset, okay?” His eyes lingered on Julie again, a quick flash of something greedy before he tossed the keys to George with a lazy flick.

“Sounds perfect,” Julie chimed in, her excitement contagious as she gave George a playful nudge, her shoulder bumping his. “This is going to be fun!” Her voice was light, but her eyes held that glint—wild, daring, pulling him in deeper.

As they headed toward the boat, George took her hand, her fingers warm and sure in his, feeling a renewed sense of excitement laced with a touch of nervousness that prickled his spine. With the catamaran, they’d have been among other tourists, following a set route with a guide barking facts through a megaphone—safe, predictable. But the speedboat was just the two of them, no script, no plan—just open water and whatever they wanted to make of it, a blank page she was already scribbling on with that reckless spark. They climbed aboard, the deck swaying under their feet, and Julie looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye that told him this day was about to be anything but ordinary—her heat, her pull, already rewriting the rules.

The speedboat sliced through the shimmering turquoise waves, sending a spray of water into the air that misted their skin as they sped along the island’s coast. George felt the wind whip through his hair, sharp and cool, the warm sun baking his face—an exhilarating rush that drowned out the sting of their missed catamaran tour for a moment. Julie leaned in close, her shoulder pressed against his, shouting over the roar of the engine, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

“Isn’t this amazing, George?” she yelled, her eyes lit up with a fierce, unguarded excitement, hair flying wild in the breeze. “It’s so much better than being stuck on some crowded tour boat!” Her words carried a thrill, a certainty, like she’d already claimed this moment as hers.

George couldn’t help but agree, the raw freedom of it sinking into him—the boat’s hum under his hands, the endless blue stretching out ahead. The open water offered possibilities the catamaran never could, no stiff itinerary or chattering strangers to hem them in, and it stirred something deep, something he hadn’t felt in a while. He was beginning to see Julie’s transformation in a new light—her newfound spontaneity wasn’t just chaos; maybe it was what they’d been missing, a jolt to shake them loose. “Yeah, it’s unreal,” he shouted back, a grin tugging at his lips despite the nerves still flickering underneath.

“Where should we go?” he called out, glancing at her as the island’s lush green shoreline rolled by, cliffs rising sharp against the sky.

“Let’s just follow the coast—it’s beautiful!” Julie suggested, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she pointed ahead, her finger tracing the horizon. “Doesn’t look like much traffic out here—just us and the water.” Her voice had that edge, that dare, like she was already plotting something wilder.

As they navigated the rocky cliffs and white sand beaches, George marveled at the natural beauty surrounding them—the vibrant blues and greens of the water clashing with the lush foliage of the island, a scene so perfect it could’ve been ripped from a postcard. Their laughter carried on the breeze as they traded playful banter—her ribbing him about oversleeping, him firing back about her morning ambush, her lips on him pulling him out of dreams into something hotter. They basked in the joy of their spontaneous adventure, the boat cutting a path through the waves, the world theirs for the taking.

“Look, over there!” Julie pointed suddenly toward a small cove nestled between two towering cliffs, her voice bright with discovery. “It looks like the perfect spot to relax and take a break.” Her eyes gleamed, already fixed on it, like she’d claimed it before they even got close.

George maneuvered the speedboat into the cove, the distant roar of the open water fading into a serene hush as they slipped into the sheltered inlet. The cliffs towered above them, jagged and green, casting long shadows over the beach that stretched out soft and white—a private pocket carved from the coast. It was like they’d stumbled upon their own little piece of paradise, tucked away from the world, the quiet wrapping around them like a secret. He secured the anchor, the chain rattling as it sank, and glanced over at Julie—she was already slipping off her shoes, letting her toes sink into the sand with a sigh, her movements easy and sure.

She stretched her arms above her head, the short dress fluttering around her thighs as the sunlight danced across her skin, catching the curve of her shoulders, the line of her legs. “Perfect place to stop,” she murmured, her voice low and inviting, laced with a challenge as she laid out a towel on the sand and lowered herself onto it—reclining slow, deliberate, her body angled just so, like she knew exactly what it did to him.

Then, with a glint of mischief, Julie reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes—and a small, clear tube of lube, the cap glinting in the sun. George’s eyes widened, a jolt hitting his gut as she tossed it onto the towel beside her with a casual flick, like it was no big deal. She grinned, catching his look, her voice teasing. “What? You said I should pack essentials... after last night, this is mandatory equipment if we wann get... creative.”

She plucked a cigarette free, holding it between her fingers with a practiced elegance, and brought it to her lips, her eyes locking on his as she struck a lighter—flame flaring, tip crackling to life.

The first drag was long and slow, her chest rising as she savored it, smoke curling thick from her mouth before drifting into the breeze—a silky tendril that framed her face, her red lips stark against the haze. She held his gaze the whole time, deliberate, sensual, like every move was a show just for him. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as she patted the towel beside her, the sand shifting under her hand.

George stepped off the boat, boots sinking into the soft beach, pulse thudding hard in his chest—nerves and want twisting together as he lowered himself beside her. His eyes tracked her every move, drawn to the way she held the cigarette, the way her fingers lingered at her mouth, how the filter pressed against her lips with each drag—slow, wet, a pull that echoed in his groin. She noticed his stare, a knowing smirk lighting her face, and took another deep inhale—drawing the smoke in, holding it, then exhaling it slow, blowing the stream right toward him, daring him to breathe her in.

“Does this… do something for you, babe?” Her voice was soft, dripping with seduction, her eyes teasing, challenging, cutting through the quiet hum of the waves.

George’s mouth went dry, throat tightening as the smoke hit him—faint, sharp, hers. “Well… yes,” he murmured, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended, thick with the truth he couldn’t hide. “You have no idea.”

She chuckled—a rich, throaty sound that rolled over him, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Oh, I think I do,” she replied, twirling the cigarette between her fingers, holding it just inches from her face—a taunt, a lure. She leaned closer, her scent flooding him—sun-warmed skin, salt, the faint bite of smoke—intoxicating, pulling him under. “Funny, isn’t it?” she continued, drawing out her words with a lazy purr. “I used to hate the smell… now I can’t get enough of it.”

She took another drag, lips parting to release a thin stream that hung in the air between them, framing her face in a hazy, sensual mist—her blue eyes glinting wicked through it, a pleased smirk tugging at her mouth as she watched him squirm. “Think I might like this… bad girl side of yours,” he murmured, his gaze locked on her, voice low and raw, admitting more than he meant to.

Julie grinned, biting her lip as she leaned back, crossing her legs in a way that hiked her dress just a bit higher—revealing the smooth curve of her thigh, sun catching the skin. “Good,” she purred, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette away, embers dancing in the warm breeze as it hit the sand. “Because I plan on being bad today.”

Her hands moved fast—reaching behind her back, unclasping her bikini top with a quick snap, letting it fall to the sand in a crumpled heap. George’s breath hitched as she hooked her thumbs into her bikini bottoms, pushing them down her long, toned legs—slow, deliberate, stripping bare under the sun’s caress. “Fuck it, I’m going all in,” she declared, her voice bold and unapologetic, now completely nude, skin glowing gold against the white beach.

George scanned the surroundings - of course there was no one in sight - and his gaze immediately returned to her. She was a magnet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, arousal surging with every beat of his heart. She stretched out, shameless, her curves catching the light—breasts full, hips flared, a dare in every line. “Come on, babe. Don’t just stand there,” she said, voice dripping seduction as she reached for the lotion bottle beside her. “I could use some help with the sun lotion.”

“Uhm… sure, of course,” George replied, voice thick as he joined her on the towel—sand warm under his knees, a tent already forming in his trunks as he poured a generous amount of oil into his hands. The scent of coconut flooded the air as he began to knead her shoulders—fingers working out the faint tension there, her skin hot and smooth under his touch.

“God, that feels amazing,” Julie moaned, spreading her legs slightly, arching her back just enough to push her ass up—a subtle invite that sent a jolt through him.

His hands drifted lower, kneading the tight curves of her lower back before descending to her firm buttocks—massaging slow, deep, her skin a furnace that stoked his desire higher. She sighed under him, soft and needy, and his fingers wandered further—slipping between her thighs, brushing her sensitive folds, already slick and swollen. “Oh God, George, I think I need extra protection there,” she gasped, her body rippling with pleasure as he grazed her, her hips twitching up to meet him.

George groaned at the sound of her voice—sultry, laced with lust—his cock straining harder as her response egged him on. He ventured further, slipping a finger inside—wet, hot, ready—and she clenched around him, a quiet moan spilling out. “Seems like you were in dire need of some hands-on therapy, darling,” he whispered playfully into her ear, his breath hot against her skin, a grin tugging at his lips.

Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. “I think a good massage can do wonders,” she murmured, her fingers tracing along the waistband of his trunks—teasing, tugging light. “You know what else I’ve been thinking?” She paused, letting the question hang heavy between them, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “I’ve been imagining… how good it would feel if you fucked me… right here in the open.”

There it was again, the words she was choosing... so unlike the old Julie.

She let out a soft sigh at the thought, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before snapping back to his, sharp and daring. “But then again,” she continued, her fingers now untying the drawstrings on his trunks with a slow pull, “we wouldn’t want to be too reckless, would we?”

George’s cock throbbed, aching to be freed as he stared down at his beautiful, insatiable wife—her words sinking claws into him. He found it hard to believe this wanton, uninhibited woman was the same uptight Julie he’d known all those years—the thought thrilled him, terrified him, but right now, all he could focus on was having her, taking her right there. “No,” he growled, voice husky with desire as he yanked his trunks off in one swift motion, tossing them aside. “We wouldn’t want that.”

He pulled her onto all fours on the towel, her ass—still glistening with oil—luring him in like a beacon. Unable to resist, he positioned himself at her entrance and entered her in one slow, deep thrust—her pussy was tight, hot, and swallowing him whole.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, burying himself to the hilt, her heat wrapping around him like a vise. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So does your cock, babe! Ahhh!” Julie’s voice echoed off the cliffs, sharp and wild, her body rocking in rhythm with his—sand shifting under them, her knees digging in. George was struck by the surrealness of it—their skin slick with sweat and oil, naked in the open.

“Do you feel all that?” she gasped out, her breath hitching as he pushed deeper, filling her. “The cool sea breeze on our skin… the sand beneath us… and us fucking here beneath the sky… like some Greek gods of sex…”

Her words hung in the air, strange and primal, stoking something wild in him—a fusion of lust and awe that burned hotter with every thrust. Their bodies slapped together, her gasps sharper, more potent out here under the sun. He felt it—like gods, unbound, the world shrinking to just them, and the cove was their altar.

She looked back at him, breathless, her hair framing her painted face. “Play with my ass again, baby,” she whispered, her voice thick with need, eyes blazing with lust and trust—a look that left no room to second-guess.

George’s pulse spiked. He reached for the lube tube she’d tossed down. “You really like it, huh?” he asked, slicking his fingers, his voice rough but curious, testing her.

“Yeah… it makes me feel so full,” Julie replied, her tone dripping with desire, a hungry edge that sent a shiver down his spine. “And I want you to take me… all of me.”

With a nod, he pressed a slick finger against her puckered entrance—slow, careful—feeling her relax under his touch as he pushed inside, her moan **** and raw. “God, that’s… incredible,” she exhaled with a shiver, her voice barely more than a husky whisper, her body trembling as she adjusted to the stretch—nerves firing, electric.

“Babe… I want more,” she panted, desperation seeping in as she arched her back harder, pushing against him. “Please… I think I need your cock.”

His gut clenched—anal, here, now? He hesitated - open beach, her begging, the line they were crossing. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice tight with a mix of want and doubt.

“Yes… more than you think,” Julie murmured, her blue eyes locking on his—fierce, certain, pulling him past the edge. "Why do you think I packed the lube?"

He swallowed hard, hands trembling as he pulled out of her pussy—her wetness slick on him—and grabbed the lube again, coating his cock generous and quick. He positioned himself at her other entrance, the tip pressing against her tight anus. After a few failed attempts years ago he never thought he'd be in this position ever again. But now, slowly, inch by inch, he pushed in, her ass gripping him like nothing else.

“Oh fuck… you’re so big… keep going babe, slowly,” she urged, voice strained but determined, her fingers clawing the towel.

With a final careful push, he was fully inside. Both of them were panting and gasping and the sensation was overwhelming. They stayed still a moment, letting her adjust—her breaths ragged, his chest heaving—before he started moving, slow and deep, the intensity climbing fast.

“Julie… I never thought… fuck, this feels good…” he stammered, words trailing off as he lost himself in her, the rawness of it swallowing him whole.

“Yeah… I love it too, babe… your cock fills up my ass perfectly,” she gasped, rocking back to meet him, their rhythm instinctual.

She wasn’t close yet, his pace was too cautious, too gentle and she knew he wouldn't be able to hold it long enough. With a sudden move, she pulled away—his cock slipping free—and pushed him down flat on the towel. She straddled him quick, positioning her anus over his throbbing tip.

“It’s my turn to drive, babe,” she growled, lowering herself onto his shaft—shuddering as he stretched her again, filling her completely, a moan ripping from her throat loud enough to scare the gulls.

The sensation hit them both hard—George cried out, ecstasy spiking as her tight ass engulfed him, her heat **** him senseless. Julie moaned louder, taking what she wanted, her hips rolling slow at first, testing, then harder—chasing the climax she craved. “Fuck… Julie… your ass feels so damn good... why didn't we do this before...” he managed between moans, hands gripping her thighs, sand caking his fingers as she rode him.

But then, as her eyes snapped open mid-thrust, she saw a sailboat rounding the cape, cutting straight past their cove. Her gut lurched—hide, cover up, but the feel of George’s cock deep in her ass drowned it fast. Embarrassment flared and died, replaced by a thrill, sharp and electric, surging through her veins—she didn’t stop, couldn’t.

George was too lost to notice, the boat was out of his sight line. Julie rode on, urgent, ****—hips slamming down, chasing that edge.

The boat crept closer and she saw binoculars glinting, one guy elbowing the others, pointing. She saw them clear now and instead of fear, power flooded her, arousal spiking wild. It was a ****, addictive, pumping her full. “Oh… fuck… George… I’m…” she moaned, voice hoarse, thick with it.

He caught it then—the sails in the wind and distant shouts. “FUCK! Julie! There’s a boat!” he rasped, shifting under her, panic flashing—but she slammed down harder, pinning him, her thighs clamping tight.

“I know,” she growled through gritted teeth, eyes alight with desire and something feral he couldn’t place. “And I don’t care.”

“What the—? They can see us, Julie!” he choked, half-sitting, sand sticking to his back as he twisted for better view on the sailboat, only to see two guys wrestling for the binoculars, staring slack-jawed.

“So what? Let them watch…” she countered, arching her back, thrusting her breasts out—a taunt, a show. “I want them to see how good you make me feel!” Her voice was a dare, raw and unyielding, cutting through his shock.

George couldn’t process—his wife behaving like this and them watching—but her ass clenched him tighter, her words burned hot. Part of him screamed stop but another part, dark and primal, roared louder. He felt weird lust burning through his veins, a sort of pride in the fact that it was his wife that received this attention and that he was the lucky man that was fucking her. “Julie… what are we doing....” he managed, voice cracking, teetering on the edge.

She ignored him and rode harder, nails digging into his shoulders—wild and free. The crew hollered something foreign, maybe in German, but it was obviously rowdy and their cheers were bouncing over the water. “You’re out of your mind…” he rasped, reason fraying, “but if you really want this… let’s give them a show then.” His own words shocked him—hesitation lingered—but her fire torched it. “If it gets out of hand, we stop, okay?”

Her blue eyes locked on his, full of lust and steel. “Deal,” she gasped, breathless, and set the rhythm—harder, deeper, her tightness gripping him with every thrust.

“Fuck, George,” Julie moaned, her voice thick with lust as she rode his cock—her ass slamming down, tight and relentless, sand spraying around them. “They’re close... oh my God... they can see everything.” The sailboat bobbed nearer and German shouts grew louder.

George’s hands gripped her hips, fingers sinking into her slick, oiled flesh. “Jules, maybe we really should—” he started, a final stab at reason clawing through the haze, but she silenced him, pressing a finger hard to his lips.

“Shh, babe. Let them watch. This is turning me on too much…” she whispered seductively, her eyes locked on his—blue fire, unyielding, daring him to fall with her.

She’d never been this—daring, wild, so fucking uninhibited—not even close. Part of him was terrified, gut twisting at the recklessness but another part couldn’t deny it: the heat coursing through him, thick and primal, her ass **** his cock, her moans loud enough to drown the waves. He let go and surrendered, thrusting up into her as she rode him with abandon.

Julie’s moans spiked, raw and free, filling the cove as she writhed atop him—reveling in the eyes on them, the thrill of sharing this with strangers. It was liberating—exhilarating—nothing she’d ever tasted before, better even than the Mark’s hotel window fuck, the sea air and their stares amplifying every pulse. George sensed it and gave himself over, the sight of her too much to resist.

He watched her in awe—his Julie, his wife, riding his cock deep into her ass, her heavy makeup streaking under the strain—liner smudged black around her eyes, lids half-shut in bliss, lips parted, red and wet. Sweat beaded her brow, her blonde hair a tangled mess whipping in the breeze, and those eyes—straining from the effort, the ecstasy—locked on him, wild and alive. Her breath came in gasps, sharp and ragged, her skin hot under his hands—oil, sweat, her scent flooding him, coconut and smoke and something wild. The slap of her ass against his thighs rang out, wet and loud, her tightness squeezing him so hard it blurred his edges—he felt every clench, every shudder, her body a furnace consuming him whole.

“Jesus, Jules, I can't believe we're doing this... you're so fucking hot right now,” he rasped, voice scraping raw, throat tight as her backdoor swallowed him. His grip tightened, fingers bruising her hips—he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t, even as the boat’s crew hollered louder, their German slurs cutting through the air.

Her head snapped back, ecstasy twisting her face as she cupped her boobs. She was squeezing them, taunting the pricks watching with her sultry gaze while George met her thrusts from below. She was in her element, her inner slut blooming loud and unashamed, and he couldn’t look away—his wife, confident, wild, his. He remembered her last night how she came with her both holes filled, and acted. He plunged two fingers into her pussy, curving them sharp to hit her G-spot, while his thumb pressed against her clit.

Julie’s eyes bulged, a scream ripping out as the cocktail of sensations hit her. Her body clenched—ass strangling his cock, pussy gripping his fingers. “George… ahh… you fuck me so fucking good... I’m…gonna...” she gasped, her voice breaking, orgasm barreling closer.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his own climax roaring up as well, unstoppable—a freight train in his groin. “Cum! Cum all over my cock and show these fuckers how a real woman does it!”

With a scream that bounced off the cove, Julie came apart—her ass clamping him tight and her pussy squirting hot over his lap, soaking them both in a wild gush. And then another climax hit right after, so that her entire body was trembling, shuddering while the bliss teared through her, loud and messy.

The crew roared approvingly at the sight, “Ja, Gut gemacht, Schatz!” Spurring her on with beers raised as she rode wave after wave.

“Jules… I can’t… I’m gonna come!” George warned, breath ragged, face flushed—heat flooding him, balls tight.

“Cum in my ass, baby! Fill me up!” she begged, voice hoarse, ****—her nails raking his chest.

With a final, guttural groan, George exploded and his hot seed flooded her ass for the first time ever, pulsing deep as they shuddered together, the **** of their orgasms syncing in a raw, shaking mess. Clapping echoed over the water and one prick shouted, “Die beste Hure auf dem Adriatik!”

Julie collapsed forward onto his chest, panting, spent. Her heartbeat was still hammering through her ribs and George, still inside her, squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy and bliss.

“What did that guy just say?” she panted, voice muffled against his neck, a giggle bubbling up.

“Whew... that they enjoyed watching you… and something about what a great slut you are,” George chuckled breathlessly, dazed, the absurdity hitting him sideways.

Adrenaline still pumping, Julie straightened up and hollered back, “Danke! I’m glad you liked the show! Bye-bye now, boys!” Her voice carried, bold and unashamed, as the crew whistled and catcalled, their sailboat drifting off around the bend, laughter fading into the distance.

An unsettling quiet settled over the cove—waves lapping the shore loud now, a sharp shift from the chaos. Julie slid off his lap, flopping onto her back in the sand with a satisfied sigh—stretching like a cat in the sun. Her body was flushed and glistening, sand sticking to her thighs, but she didn't care. George stayed propped on his elbows, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath—and his thoughts.

“Jesus,” he muttered finally, running a shaky hand through his damp hair. “What the hell just happened?”

Julie rolled her head toward him, lips curling into a slow, mischievous grin—her makeup smeared, eyes still glinting wild. “I think we just gave those guys a story they’ll be telling for years.”

Her tone was light, teasing, but George didn’t laugh. He stared at her with a tight jaw, like he was seeing her anew. “We just… we just had anal sex. Out in the open. With some people watching. What if they—what if someone—” His words stumbled.

“Oh, come on, babe,” Julie interrupted, sitting up, brushing sand off her thighs with a casual swipe, her voice remaining easy, dismissive. “It’s not like we’re going to run into them at the grocery store next week. They’re just random tourists—some rich German assholes with too much beer and time. Who cares?” She shrugged, like it was nothing.

George’s jaw clenched—he cared, damn it. Not just about being seen, but what it meant—what they were becoming, what she was becoming. His gaze dropped to the sand, voice quiet but weighted, thick with something raw. “It’s not like us, Jules. At least, it’s not like me.”

Julie leaned closer, resting a hand on his arm—her blue eyes softened, but a glint lingered behind them—amusement? Challenge? “Hey,” she said gently, her touch warm against his skin, grounding him. “It’s not like it was planned. It just… happened. And, honestly?” She tilted her head, her smile turning coy, a flicker of that morning’s tease. “I think it was... kind of hot. Right?”

He swallowed hard, her words sinking in. It was hot—scorching, insane—the feel of her, the eyes on them, her screams, everything. “Yeah, it was intense, sure,” he admitted. “But still, it was—”

“Liberating,” she cut in, her tone brimming with enthusiasm—sitting up straighter, energy sparking again. “Come on, admit it, George. You loved it. You fucked my ass and... you loved me.” Her hand squeezed his arm, urging him to meet her eyes.

“I always love you,” he said quickly, almost defensively, like a reflex. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” she countered, brows arching as she leaned in closer. Her voice lost the easiness, she was almost pressing him now. “That we did something a little wild? A little naughty? Babe, look at me.” She waited ‘til he lifted his gaze, her blue eyes locking on his brown—soft but firm. “You said yesterday it’s okay to let go sometimes. To enjoy the moment. Didn’t you feel alive right now? Just for a second?”

He had—fuck, he had felt more alive than in years! Her passion was searing through him, the rush of it all. But that’s what scared him—how easy it was to lose himself in her, how far she’d take it. “I just… I don’t want us to lose ourselves doing crazy shit like this, Jules,” he murmured, voice unsteady, raw. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Julie’s expression shifted—something **** flickered across her face, brief and soft—before she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You’re never going to lose me, silly,” she whispered, her voice a quiet promise, steady as the waves. “I’m all yours. Forever.”

The tension broke. She reached for her towel, grabbed another cigarette and lit it with a flick, exhaling a plume of smoke into the salty air. “Now, come on,” she said, stretching back out on the sand carefree and glowing. “Let’s enjoy the rest of this beach before we head back. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves again.”

George nodded slowly and his gaze drifted to the horizon as he tried to piece it together: what they’d done, what it meant, where they were headed. Her promise held him, but questions lingered. He pushed them down for now, lay back beside her with waves lulling him into a fragile calm. For the moment, he just wanted to hold onto her and this new spark in her.

Yes, this was his Julie, her blonde hair a tangled halo and that slutty makeup smudged into a warpaint smear across her eyes. She’d ridden him like a storm, ass clenching his cock, squirting wild while strangers watched—his Julie, the one who used to blush at a dirty joke, now a live wire sparking in his hands. He could still feel her—hot, tight, the way her gasps tore through him, her nails leaving red streaks on his chest. His gut twisted in a mix of love, lust, and a flicker of fear—because fuck, she was different now, and he wasn’t sure where it stopped.

“God... that was something,” Julie murmured, rolling her head to look at him—her voice husky, a grin tugging her lips, cigarette dangling in her fingers as she propped herself up. “You okay over there, babe? You’re quiet.” Her eyes glinted in a teasing way, sure, but searching too, like she knew he was still reeling.

George let out a rough chuckle. “Yeah… just… processing, I guess,” he said with a low voice, thick with the weight of it. “That was—fuck, Jules, I don’t even know what to call it. Insane? Hot as hell? Both?” He glanced at her, her smirk pulling him in despite himself.

“Both works,” she purred, taking another drag—smoke curling slow, her lips red and wet around the cigarette, a sight that hit him low. “You loved it, though—don’t lie. I felt you. Hell, I can still feel your cum in my ass.”

She reached out, trailing a finger down his arm.

He couldn’t deny it—his cock twitched just thinking about it all.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rougher now, “I did. More than I thought I would.” His gaze flicked to her. “But it’s… a lot, y’know? You’re—you’re not holding back anymore.”

Julie’s grin widened, wicked and warm. She stubbed the cigarette in the sand and then rolled onto her side to face him, her body a curve of gold against the white. “Good. I don’t want to hold back—not here, not with you. We’ve got three days left, George. I say we make them count.” She leaned closer, her breath was warm and smoky, and her lips brushed his ear. “You’re not scared, are you?”

His pulse kicked—scared? Maybe. Thrilled? Fuck yes.

“Not scared,” he murmured, turning to meet her eyes—blue, blazing, pulling him in. “Just… figuring out how to keep up with you, wild thing.” He smirked, but it was shaky—her fire was a ****, and he was hooked, even if it burned.

She laughed then pushed up, sand falling off her as she stood, stretching long and shameless. “C’mon, let’s rinse off—water’s calling.”

She didn’t wait, just sauntered to the shore, wading in until the waves lapped her thighs, accompanied by her carefree laugh as she splashed.

George watched her for a moment then hauled himself up, sand clinging as he followed. The water hit him cold, shocking his skin, but her grin warmed him fast when she playfully splashed him. Her wet hair was sticking to her face while her makeup was streaking further. “You’re a mess,” he teased, grabbing her waist and pulling her close until her breasts pressed his chest.

“Says the guy who just fucked me in front of a boat full of Germans,” she shot back, smirking—then kissed him hard with her salty lips salty and hungry tongue. Her hands tangling in his hair as he groaned into her mouth. His cock stirred again, half-hard against her thigh under the water.

“You’re gonna kill me, Jules,” he rasped between breaths, hands cupping her ass—fingers brushing where he’d been, still slick with lube and him.

“Only if you can’t keep up,” she whispered and bit his lip. “Round two?”