A few years ago, when my daughter Helen was eight, the family took a villa for the summer near Sainte-Maxime. When Helen's school broke up in early July, we packed the car and were off. We took three leisurely days to drive down, stopping overnight near Paris and then in Grasse.
The house was everything promised; very posh, with a small private beach and jetty shared with an adjacent villa. We unloaded the car and settled in, eating at the small brasserie nearby.
The following morning, I walked into Sainte-Maxime and collected the small enterprise-class dinghy we had rented, mooring it at the private jetty. July was almost windless with no chance of sailing, and passed lazily in the usual blur of sun, sea, food and too much wine.
A young couple occupied the villa next door, but they were wrapped up in each other, and we didn't see much of them. Then, on the last weekend in July, they left.
The following morning, the new occupants arrived: a woman and her daughter. Both were attractive: the mother was slim, blonde and perhaps forty; the daughter, a young, buxom brunette.
They joined us on the beach the next day, and the woman started chatting with my wife.
"How long are you here?" my wife asked the woman. She paused, then continued, "Apologies, I should introduce myself first; my name is Rebecca, and this is my husband."
The woman, who wore a skimpy white bikini, smiled. "Pleased to meet you both," she replied, "I'm Carol, and this is my daughter, Erika. We'll be here for August; Erika starts at University in September."
The two women continued chatting. The daughter Erika wore an equally skimpy white bikini, which barely contained her boobs, matching the one her mother wore. From behind the cover of reading my book, I covertly watched Erika spread their beach towels, sit and rub sun tan lotion onto her pale skin.
I heard my wife talking. "You must come over tomorrow night for dinner," Rebecca said. "We can do a barbeque or something."
The following morning, I was dispatched to Carrefour. On my return, I saw Carol and Erika walking out of the gates to our small complex. They waved as I drove past.
When I parked outside the villa, mother and daughter had turned around.
"Do you need a hand?" Carol asked. Her daughter Erika just smiled.
I reached into the boot and picked up some of the shopping.
"No, there's not much," I replied. "Thanks for the offer."
"Don't be silly; let us give you a hand," Carol said. She reached into the boot and handed Erika some shopping.
The two women followed me into the kitchen. Both brushed past me as they deposited the bags on the kitchen counter, but Erika leaned heavily against me, pressing her impressive boobs against me.
"See you later," Erika said, grinning as she followed her mother out of the villa.
Once the shopping was unpacked, I joined Rebecca on the beach, where we lazed for the rest of the day and watched my daughter play in the sand.
Evening rolled around. I lit the barbeque, artfully built into the terrace near the pool, and once it was hot, started cooking. Carol and Erika joined us at dusk, wearing short matching dresses. Drinks were duly served, and we ate around the pool, with the lights from Saint-Tropez twinkling from across the bay.
Rebecca clearly enjoyed their company, and when we were alone in the kitchen clearing dishes, she said, "It's nice we have so much in common with Carol, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's great," I replied neutrally. Throughout the meal, I had been aware of the glances from both mother and daughter.
With the dishes cleared away, and our daughter packed off to bed, the conversation turned inevitably to sailing.
"Mummy has promised me lessons, so I'm going to learn to sail," Erika said.
"Do you sail?" she asked, looking at me intently. A man could drown in those blue eyes.
"Whenever I can," I replied, aware my wife was watching. I smiled. "I learned near here myself, at Antibes Yacht Club."
I waved in the direction of the jetty. "The dingy is ours; I rented it hoping for a summer Mistral, but it's been flat calm."
"Perhaps you could take us both out for a spin while we're here", her mother, Carol, said. That her words were redolent with double meanings was not lost on me.
"I'm sure we could take you sailing," I replied, carefully looking at Rebecca. "Also, the Club Nautique in Sainte-Maxime rents dinghies and does lessons."
The following day, Rebecca and I walked into Sainte-Maxime with them and introduced Erika to the staff at the sailing club. Her mother arranged lessons for three mornings a week, with an hour of tuition and the use of a dinghy for the morning once they deemed she could handle a boat properly.
The rest of the week passed lazily. We'd spend the day on the beach, with periodic dips, and eat somewhere local, avoiding the tourist haunts. I often felt eyes on me from both mother and daughter. I was careful that Rebecca didn't see me watch them back, though I covertly enjoyed the sight of mother and daughter rising wet from the sea and walking back up the beach.
The following weekend, my wife Rebecca and my young daughter Helen were due to visit Rebecca's mother, who lived high in the Pyrenees near Pau, leaving me alone for two weeks.
"You can come along if you like," Rebecca said, knowing I detested her mother. "But only if you really want to."
I laughed. "I'll stay here, thanks," I said.
Rebecca shook her head, grinning. "I'll leave you to fend for yourself then," she said. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
I smiled at this familiar ritual; she knew I'd never go willingly.
"No, it will be great," I replied. "It gives me a chance to catch up on work, and I might head to Antibes for a couple of days; it's a long time since I was there."
I loaded my wife's cases into the car, kissed her and my daughter goodbye, and watched them drive off.
Carol didn't waste any time. When Erika went sailing the following morning, Carol appeared on the beach, topless for the first time, and spread her towel very close to mine.
"Can you put some lotion on my back," she asked.
I knelt next to her and rubbed in the lotion. When I'd finished, she rolled over onto her back. I could hardly keep my eyes off her prominent nipples.
"I've seen you checking me out," she said, reaching for my trunks. "Are you going to do anything about it?"
My throat was suddenly dry. I had fantasised about fucking both Carol and her daughter, but I'd never been unfaithful and would never have the nerve to initiate anything. But with Carol's hand massaging my rock-hard cock, it seemed the perfect opportunity.
My eyes scanned her slim body, and I stood before I could change my mind.
I reached out a hand. "Let's go somewhere more private," I said.
She took my hand and led me back to her villa. When we reached her bedroom, Carol pulled me close and kissed me, with her slim body and small tits pressed against me. As my hands slid down her back, her hand slipped inside my trunks and slowly wanked my rigid cock.
Still nervous about cheating but more aroused than I had been for years, I pulled away slightly.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" I asked.
She looked down at her hand inside my trunks, still wrapped around my rock-hard erection.
"Absolutely not," she laughed, "but I need to suck that dick of yours; it's enormous."
Without a word, Carol dropped to her knees. She pulled down my trunks, clasped her hands behind my bum, and, looking up at me the whole time, started teasing the tip of my cock with her tongue. Carol opened her mouth and took just my glans into her mouth before closing her lips. She slowly took more and more of my mammoth erection into her mouth. Soon she had taken the whole eight inches, which was a first for me as my wife hated giving blow-jobs. I groaned and almost lost control immediately.
"Careful," I said. "I don't want to come in your mouth."
Carol didn't stop. She continued to suck me slowly, her tongue running gently along my shaft as she bobbed her head. I tried not to think about what we would do next and how I would fuck her, but the thrill of finally cheating on my wife was too much, and I came, shooting a massive load into her mouth.
"Oh god, I'm sorry," I stammered.
She swallowed and smiled at me, my cum oozing past her lips. After sucking my cock clean, she stood and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Don't worry," she said. "Just make sure you make it up to me."
I pushed her back onto the bed and pulled her bikini bottoms down to her knees. One finger toyed with her clitoris, then worked its way into her wet pussy and started fingering her. After a few moments, a second finger joined it, then a third. My hooked fingers worked inside her as my tongue played with her clit. Once my fingers found the right spot, she moaned softly, and her pussy pulsed against my fingers when she came. I started fingering her hard and fast, and soon she came again, my head clamped between her thighs as my tongue played with her sensitive clitoris.
"That was fantastic, but fuck me now," Carol ordered softly. I knew I shouldn't cheat on my wife, but coming inside Carol's mouth was beyond the point of no return. The thought of completing my betrayal of Rebecca excited me, and my cock seemed to swell further, almost painful with the need to fuck her.
I stood and pulled her towards the edge of the bed. I pushed her legs back, knees together with the bikini bottoms still hanging around one knee, and her feet resting on my left shoulder.
I rubbed my cock against the juices dripping from her shaven pussy. I drove my massive dick slowly into her wet minge until it was balls-deep. I fucked her with long slow strokes, slowly building the speed until my balls slapped against her firm arse each time my dick slammed hilt-deep into her wet cunt. When she came again, for the third time, it pushed me to climax again, and I shot my second load of the day deep inside her. My still-rigid dick continued to shaft her slowly as my eyes greedily scanned her slim body, which glistened with sweat. We dozed on the bed, coiled together, my dick still embedded inside her. Eventually, Carol stirred.
"I don't want Erika to find us like this," Carol said.
So we showered and returned to the small beach. Carol moved her towel further away and wore the bikini top. I buried myself in a book, my dick still rock-hard, contemplating what we had just done.
Erika greeted us brightly when she returned and joined her mother, spreading her towel between us.
Over the next few days, this became our routine. Erika would go sailing, and then Carol would give me a blow-job before we fucked, trying different positions each time and making sure we returned to the beach before Erika returned.
On Sunday, Erika returned unexpectedly when Carol was on her knees in her bedroom and sucking my enormous erection.
"Hi mum, no sailing today because it's ..." she started, trailing off as she noticed us.
Erika blushed. "Sorry, I hadn't realised," she said, staring at my rigid cock. She turned to flee, but Carol grabbed her hand.
"Erika, don't be silly," Carol said. "I've seen you play with yourself as you watch him, so I know you want to fuck him, and you're not a virgin".