Chapter 1

We walked along the beach at dawn. The sun rose over the hills in the distance. Corrine raced ahead, more sure-footed than I on the hot, coarse sand. We walked along the water’s edge, keep our heads out to sea; away from the sun.

It was still early in the morning and this was not the most popular beach, so there were only a few other sun-worshippers out. Mostly we saw children – boys and girls under six – running naked across the beach. Occasionally some young mother or other would run after them, her small breasts bouncing up and down on her lean, tan body. I was amazed, once again, at how much smaller, and thinner, people were here in Europe. Or maybe it was just the ones that went to the beach.

Even more infrequently a father, or a single young man would cross our path. Another difference: in addition to being smaller and thinner than most American men, these Europeans were, for the most part, uncircumcised. Except, I suppose, the Jews.

As one handsome young man passed us, I glanced at Corrine to catch her reaction. Nothing. She had been in France almost a year longer than I and I guess the casual nudity of the beaches had become passe.

Corrine herself was covered from neck to thigh in a large, shapeless orange beach shift. At five-ten and one hundred and thirty pounds, Corrine, while by no means fat, was a much bigger girl than any of these slim European women. Teenaged girls are very self-conscious so I figured that Corrine was very aware of the fact that she looked like a giantess among the elves so she dressed demurely to cover up for it.

“Just where are we going?” I called out. She was a good fifty feet in front of me.

“Just a little farther, Dave,” she shouted back. “I know a spot that’s a bit more secluded.”

I knew it! A bit more secluded. Back in the States,

Corrine wore her bikinis proudly. They weren’t incredibly skimpy, but she didn’t try to hide her rather large attributes either. She was the perfect beach bunny.

Here she probably felt embarrassed by her large breasts.

38D was a bit large for a sixteen-year old. I’d sneaked a peak at one of her tops once. I wondered what kind of suit she was wearing under her beach dress. Probably a one-piece. A bikini would probably be too embarrassing.

We trudged on for another mile, and I noticed that the trees were getting closer to the water. And more numerous, while the people were less numerous. Finally, we took a left turn and passed through a copse of trees that the city boy in me would have called a jungle. We emerged into a secluded clearing.

Home.

Corrine shrugged her broad shoulders and let her basket plop to the sand. Without a word she began staking out our enormous beach towels. We were both large people, I’m six-two, so we needed large towels.

I knew my job. I had to set up the umbrella and the chaise lounges. I am usually quite inept with mechanical objects, and these proved no exception. I had managed to get the umbrella up and was still working of the first chair when I heard Corrine’s voice call out: “Dave, come rub me with some suntan lotion.”

What I had been waiting for. I have been covering Corrine with suntan lotion ever since she was thirteen and her shape was a modest 34C-22-36. I had always enjoyed it because Corrine liked to suntan with her bikini top untied. She always wanted her entire back lathered, and she had never objected to me putting lotion on the sides of her breasts. And with the size of her breasts there was a lot of “side” to touch. Occasionally she would shift a bit while I was rubbing her and I would catch a glimpse of nipple. Corrine didn’t seem to mind, and I certainly did not.

−Flashback —

Once, and unfortunately only once, while I was rubbing Noxema into her back, at her house, she sat up to catch a phone call and her bra (not her bathing suit top, but her actual white lacy bra) stayed on the couch. I got a good long look at her breasts; nipples and all. Corrine saw me staring at them but did not react. She continued to talk on the phone. She motioned for me to continue so I reluctantly moved behind her and continued press the cold, white cream into her back. When I was finished, she turned around to face me and indicated that I should rub the Noxema into the sunburned parts of her chest. At the first touch of the cream, she shivered, and her beautiful brown nipples contracted. I noticed that they were very long, even accounting for her large breasts. I was very careful while applying the cream to her chest, but its coldness kept making her move about. While I tried to avoid rubbing her nipples, she swayed her breasts back and forth, making it difficult to avoid them. Finally, I just gave up and applied the Noxema the best I could, not worrying about where my fingers strayed. Once I stopped worrying about touching her tits, Corrine seemed to relax, and she gently swayed back and forth while she chatted with her friend. Once in a while my fingers would touch her nipples, and it wouldn’t bother her. It certainly bothered me.

After what seemed like forever Corrine hung up the phone. She thanked me for being so attentive to her sunburn—all this while still topless. Then she calmly put her bra back on and asked me to hook her up in the back. Of course I did, and I was rewarded when continued to talk to me for the next hour wearing only bra and panties. They were both very lacy and the lace did little to conceal her nipples or her thick brown pubic hair.

That had been last year. When she was fifteen.

◼

End of Flashback –

As I turned toward her, I noticed that Corrine had already shed her beach dress and was laying face down on the beach blanket, the bottle of lotion at her side. I also noticed that she had already undone her top, since her back was bare.

Then I noticed that she had undone her bottom also, since her bare butt was sticking out at me. I finally noticed that I could not see the telltale strings of bikini. She was naked, and judging from her suntan, she normally tanned that way.

“You’re missing your bathing suit,” I said. Brilliant.

“Oh,” she replied, “I don’t wear one anymore. No one does here. Even on the ‘no-nudity’ beaches they only mean you must wear a bottom. I wear my cutoffs and they have so many holes in them I might as well be naked. No one seems to mind.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows and I openly stared at her beautiful décolletage. “Now you,” she continued, “are overdressed.” She glared at my shorts and T-shirt.

“Unfair,” I retorted. “You’ve had months to tan, while I’m as white as blanc mange. I’ll turn into a lobster.”

“OK,” she pouted. “You can wait until after you do me, but if I’m going to be nude, so are you!”

With that she put her head down, waiting for me to lather her. I sat down beside her, opened the bottle, and poured a generous helping of the macaroon-smelling goop into my hands.

I began with her neck and shoulders. As I rubbed the lotion in, I could feel her muscles ripple and then relax.

Corrine let out an “ohhh” and I could tell that she needed a backrub as much as the suntan lotion. I could feel her relaxing under the pressure of my kneading fingers.

“You can do that all day,” she said she plastered herself flat onto the beach blanket.

“Nope,” I said, “I still have the rest of you to cover.

I worked my way down her back. As I had in the past I placed my hands on the side of her breasts, rubbing the lotion into the soft, fatty flesh. She titled from one side the other, offering me little flashes of nipple – just enough to keep my eyes transfixed on her.

I continued down her spine until I finished with the small of her back. Then I held the bottle of lotion high and let the thick liquid spill onto her butt. A little dollop missed and fell in the crack between her cheeks. The lotion was cold, so she shimmied a bit.

“Rub that in quick,” she commanded. “It’s cold.” I quickly spread the goo all over her ass, kneading it into the muscles of her butt.

As I worked my way to the bottom of her butt, Corrine spread her legs wide apart – to give me easier access to her legs. While I was rubbing the top of her thighs, I couldn’t help but notice her thick brown bush. I could only see a small clump of hair, but it was exciting, nevertheless. I avoided actually touching her pubic area – that would have been impolite, but I got very close to it, massaging her thighs. She made several sounds of pleasure, but I attributed them to the relaxing massage.

I continued her massage first down one leg, then the other, finishing with her toes. As I always had in the past, when I was finished with her back, I ran a quick “second coat” up and down her back side. Then I handed her the bottle of lotion. She had always done her front herself.

She didn’t take the bottle. “You do it,” she said simply.

“You’re doing fine so far.”

Surprised, and pleased, I held the refused bottle. Then I watched as Corrine turned over languidly, almost sultrily. For the first time I got a complete look at her.

She was lovely. She had lost of lot of the baby fat I had noticed last year, but not so much as to make her bony. Then her breasts were pudgy and formless. Now they were perfect conical pyramids, rising majestically from her chest. Her stomach was small and well-defined. Her thighs – her thighs were quite muscular, and I sighed thinking of having then wrapped around me while we fucked.

Oh, my God! I had known Corrine all her life. Literally since she was born. I had admired how sexy her body became when she hit puberty, and we have had a sensual relation since then.

Sensual, not sexual. This was the first time I had thought of making love to her. I felt my already hard prick straighten even more and strain against my shorts. Corrine opened her eyes and

I swear she stared right at the bulge in my trunks.

“Well,” she said. “What are you waiting for. I’m ready.”

In my fantasies she had read my mind and..., but I knew she was just urging me to hurry up and finish applying the suntan lotion.

With great self-control I lathered my hands with the lotion and carefully applied it to her face. She closed her eyes again and I rubbed her eyelids, cheeks, and a smidgen of cream on her lips. Of course, her nose needed to be bathed in the stuff.

She had a cute little up-turned nose, and I didn’t want it to burn.

I went to her neck next. She leaned her head back which, of course, thrust her conical breasts forward. I kept my mind on my job and continued on to her arms.

I noticed that Corrine had not gone European under her arms. She still shaved them. I was glad of that.

With her arms, hands, and fingers completed, the next logical location to rub was her chest. I started out as non- sexually as I could – applying lotion to the top of her breasts and leading it down the sternum, but, I soon had to confront the underside of the breasts. And the nipples.

Even with her breasts as tan as they were, her nipples were still well-defined. As I rubbed her tits, the nipples stiffened and jutted out an inch or more from her areolae. To make matters worse Corrine began to purr – guttural, throaty sound.

“Yes,” she said. “You certainly know what you’re doing,

Dave. I should’ve made you rub my tits years ago! I wondered why you always stopped just short of my nipples. You should’ve kept going.”

Encouraged by this, I rubbed her tits much longer than necessary. Eventually, reluctantly I moved down her body, away from her breasts, to continue my task. I covered her tummy and hips with lotion.

When I moved from her hips to her legs, Corrine once again spread her legs apart, this time even wider. As I massaged her legs, I stole glances at her dark brown, almost black, pubic hair. It was certainly thick, but much straighter than I thought it would be. I was expecting tight, springy curls.

Instead – well, her pussy hair was curly, of course, but the curls were loose and luxuriant. It was like she shampooed and conditioned her pubic hair. Maybe she did. Maybe here in Europe, where a lot more people are likely to see your pubic hair, women took as much care of the hair on their pussies and the did the hair on their heads. Maybe they had them coifed at beauty salons. Who knew? What I did know was that I longed to run my fingers through Corrine’s hair: fore and aft.

“Thank you,” she said. “I am covered perfectly.” Ironic, coming from a naked woman. “Now it’s your turn. Off with your clothes!”

What heterosexual man could resist such an invitation from so adorable and sexy a young lady? I hesitated only a moment as I willed my erection into flaccidity. I thought of her father, my college friend, staring at us naked on the beach, and that brought my prick down. I shimmied out of my trunks and shirt and threw myself face down on the beach towel.

To my surprise Corrine climbed on top of me, straddling my hips, putting her butt on mine. She leaned forward and kneaded her strong hands into my shoulders. Involuntarily, I let go a satisfied moan.

“I’m glad you like this,” she said, her voice straining a little as she worked on my muscles. “The younger guys around here are not much interested in a good back rub.”

“Younger guys?” I foolishly repeated.

“I’ve tried to give the guys I know here in France back rubs just like your taught me, but they have little interest.

They don’t mind giving us girls massages – but that’s just an excuse for touching our bodies.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I said, laughing.

“Not that I mind having my body touched. Quite the contrary.”

“That’s true. I’ve never noticed that you minded being touched.”

“And I have you to thank for that,” she said affectionately. “You taught me what it was like to be fondled in a gentle, sensual manner. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You return the compliment very well.”

Indeed, her powerful hands were working wonders on my shoulders and neck. I wasn’t getting much suntan lotion on me, but I was very relaxed.