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It was about one in the afternoon in Porto San Michele, on the eastern Italian Riviera. At this time the lovely town was mostly deserted. We’d just had lunch by the pool at the Santa Marguerite, a nice restaurant inside a beach establishment of the same name. The resort was elegant and complete with the best amenities, private cabins, hot showers and an stylish bar famous for serving the best espresso in town. So we decided to stay for the afternoon and to rent an umbrella with two lounge chairs. At the reception, we asked for the nearest set to the shore and we were told that the closest available was a fourth row. We asked why so far back since the place seemed deserted. The cashier told us that it was deserted at this hour because people were hiding away from the burning sun, isvecbahis but assured us that the first three rows were booked for the whole summer. The place seemed so nice that we decided to take it, although this was not what we originally wanted. A beach attendant showed us to our set and, once we’d got settled, we asked him to bring us a couple of cold beer and some chips. While we were waiting for the drinks, we noticed that we were essentially alone with exception of two other sets. One was located right in front of us on the third row; a young man in his early twenties. The other was on our row, three umbrellas to our left, occupied by a gentleman who appeared to be in his mid-fifties. My wife took off her sheer cover-up and Panama hat and laid down under the sun, wearing isveçbahis giriş a daring Brazilian swimsuit, a white and unlined number that we’d bought a couple of days earlier. Since I am not the type of person that likes to just lay under the sun, I walked to the shoreline and checked the water temperature. The water was warm and clear. It looked shallow for several hundred feet, a perfect beach for little kids and near-shore snorkeling. I was there for only a minute or so when I saw my wife walking toward me – without her top on. Wow she was a vision! She walked past me and, without saying a word, she went into the water topless. Following her lead, I got in the water as well, and we had fun swimming and jumping together in the waves. No one else was in the water so isveçbahis yeni giriş we fooled around for a while before going back to dry under the sun. We called the attendant and ordered another couple of beers. With the beach nearly empty I got out my camera and started to take pictures of her. She’s posed for me topless in public several times before but, at fifty, her attitude was sexier and naughtier than ever. Like the finest wine, her allure improved with age. She knew when to be teasing or indecent, racy or just suggestive, risqué or salacious. She was at ease topless and, nowadays, her breasts were even bigger, curvier, heavier and sexier than in her thirties. So, it would have been a mortal sin to cover them up. To add more spice, I asked her to adjust the front of her bikini bottom, which she narrowed down to the thinnest strip possible, just enough to cover her pussy. While I was capturing her beauty in full color, I saw the younger gentleman on the third row fumbling with his smart phone.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
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