The Capri Sun [MF]

Warning–this is long.

A few years ago, a friend and I went on a summer trip to Italy. We had not been romantic in any way prior to the trip. I had just gotten out of a toxic relationship, and the two of us simply meshed well. We were not close friends, and in fact did not know each other well at all. But Nicky’s youthful energy and enthusiasm for life and travel was just what I needed at a fairly dark time in my life, and without her presence in my life I likely would have spent a much longer time self-medicating with alcohol.

She had always wanted to visit Italy, and proposed just such a trip on a whim. It had been years since I’d taken any time off work so I agreed, and booked flights for us as well as lodging at the Capri Palace Hotel, an upscale resort on the island of Capri. Feeling caught up in Nicky’s enthusiasm for the trip, I reserved the Athena Suite, an exceptionally nice room with a private pool and garden. With that, Nicky took control of the trip planning, making reservations for meals and entertainment.

The flight was uneventful. It was, after all, simply a trip for two platonic friends to blow off steam. Nicky brought travel magazines with her on the plane and chattered excitedly about the food, wine, and sights. I listened to her quietly, her bubbling commentary lightening my mood. But by the time we arrived at the hotel—having stopped over in London, landed in Naples, and ferried ourselves and our luggage to Capri—I was quite tired. We were shown to our suite and I wanted nothing more than to flop on the bed and sleep through the afternoon. Nicky would have none of it. She flitted around the suite, marveling at the in-room tub, flinging a sliding door open and dancing around the walled-off garden, gasping at the private pool. Having taken it all in, she hurried back into the room and insisted that we prepare for dinner. The inveterate planner that she was, she had left us no time to settle in. She padded around the room in shorts and a tank top, and this was when I first noticed her—the softness of her bare legs, the light smell of her long brown hair as she shook it out, the light fuzz on her arms shining golden in the Capri sun. This was a woman made for European summers. I rallied.

Dinner was fantastic. We ate under a canopy of lemon trees at a local place called Paolino. She chose a delicious Italian white that suited the light seafood pasta, and as the wine flowed and the sun set, we shed the stiffness of 12 hours in flight and the conversation loosened up. We talked about our childhoods, about past relationships, about how we lost our respective virginities, about how amazing it was to be in such an idyllic setting with someone we truly felt comfortable with. And she was gorgeous. Her dark eyes gleamed under the lights woven into the lemon branches overhead. The light sea breeze teased her hair, drawing it around the features of her face. I found myself zoning out, focusing on the curve of her nose, the gentleness of her eyelashes, the delicate structure of her cheekbones and chin, the moisture dabbing the creases on her lips as she sipped her wine. I couldn’t tell you what we discussed for the last couple of hours—I just knew that I felt alive in this place, with this vibrant woman, with the wine going to my head. As other diners paid their tabs and left, the two of us remained, entangled in pointless but important conversation, leaning closer and closer in over the candle flickering al fresco. There was a sense of magic, as cliche as it may sound. And we agreed that the week was going to be one to remember—that we were going to do everything there was to do.

We made our way back to the hotel after dinner, wanting to walk off our dinner and see a little of the area before calling it a night. Nicky and I were both fairly well-soused, and from time to time I would take her hand or put my arm around her waist to steady her as we made our way along a wending path. She was chatty and playful, and as we walked, I was treated to a quick twist of her waist that pressed her small breasts against my arm, to a subtle roll of her hips that drew our fingers along her dress drawn taut across her buttocks. She had been an athlete in high school and she retained a lithe figure. The setting made a goddess of her, with the torches along the path dancing on her skin to highlight toned muscle on her slender frame and the breeze grabbing at her dress, carving the graceful, fluid silhouette of an athlete as she skipped and twirled down the walk. She had perfect legs—delicate arched feet, tapered ankles, long slim thighs. I was intoxicated.

As we reached the hotel, we heard the muffled sound of Latin music and laughter. Nicky pirouetted and grabbed my hands. She drew her face close to mine and whispered conspiratorially, “Let’s go see what that is! Let’s DANCE!” I am not much of a dancer, nor am I one to regularly go see what things are, but the sweet smell of her breath and the fire gleaming in her eyes were too much. “Fuck it. Let’s go!”

We skipped down a path that led down the side of the island, tracking the pulsing Latin beat. I followed Nicky through a dimly lit doorway into what I surmise was a small dance club and bar for resort employees to let loose after-hours. Noticeably, there were no tourists in the bar, but neither were those in the bar unfriendly. Nicky spun herself to a pocket of the dark room, her shoes in her hand, her face flush with wine. More than a little tipsy myself, and titillated by the image of this beautiful wisp of a woman undulating her body to a primal Latin beat, I went with it. I grabbed her by the waist and we danced. I lost track of time. And though there was a throng of people dancing around us, none paid us any mind, and the darkness of the room gave us privacy.

She was truly beautiful. In the darkness I could feel and smell her hair whip past my face as she danced. In the flickering light, and with my hands more than with my eyes, I felt her hips twist and her torso snake. The Latin beat turned her around and backed her into my arms and I buried my face into her neck. She did not resist, but cast her arms aloft and swung her small ass around, grinding gently into me as I smelled the nape of her neck, registering a combination of the Italian sea breeze, her hair, and her own sweat.

Emboldened, I ran my hands up her sides. She dropped slightly, intentionally placing her breasts into my cupped hands. I ran my fingers over her nipples, and we remained in this position for a few minutes, with Nicky dancing with her back to me and my hands caressing her chest and waist. After some time, she turned to face me and we kissed. It was a deep, passion-driven kiss, our tongues exploring our lips and mouths for the first time. I brought a hand up and drew my palm along her jawline, slick with sweat. She tilted her head back at this, and I let my fingers slip into the hairline behind her ear as we continued to kiss.

Her hands moved down to my waist and undid my zipper, slipping her fingers into my fly to stroke my cock. At this, any blood remaining in my body flew to my crotch—my nerves were as sensitive as I can ever remember them being, and I felt her cool fingers wrap around the base of my cock and slide down, prompting an involuntary hitch in my breathing as her fingers caught around the crown of my penis. She moved a second hand down, and pulled my cock out through the fly of my pants, stroking it with two hands as we danced body to body.

She then broke our kiss and looked me dead in the eye, with our foreheads touching. I could feel the warmth of her breath. She grinned and turned around, again driving her ass against my now-exposed cock, dipping down and up just slightly. I could feel the firmness of her ass grinding against my erection, and when we aligned just right and I felt my cock sliding up and down in the crack of her ass, it was all I could do to resist ejaculating on the back of her dress. She continued for a little longer, using the groove of her ass to grip my dick.

I was drunk, and entirely feeling into this woman. And noting no one paying any particular attention to our dancing, I felt adventurous. I slid my hands up the side of her thighs, drawing the edge of her dress upwards. In the darkness, I ran my hands along her hips, feeling the line of her underwear with my thumbs. She arched her back and laid her head against my shoulder, still facing away from me. I saw that her eyes were closed, and I kissed her neck, completely consumed with desire. Sensing no resistance, I slide my right hand further down. I used my thumb to pull her underwear to the side and probed with my middle finger. Nicky’s body began moving more slowly as my finger touched her pussy, which was intensely hot from our dancing and slick with her juices. She continue to move slowly, her back to me, as I drew the tip of my finger along her lips, feeling the tender flesh moving beneath my touch.

A new song came on—still Latin, but with a more aggressive beat—and Nicky pushed back, sucking my middle finger inside her to the second knuckle. As her hips swayed with the music, I felt her warmth clasping my finger. She was incredibly tight. I could also feel her dress lightly touching me. As she danced, the edges of her dress flapped around, gently dragging against my still-exposed cock, and I could feel the head getting engorged. I was horny and didn’t care if anyone saw: I had to have her.

With my right hand still pulling her underwear to the side, I grasped my dick in my left hand and guided it back between her cheeks. Feeling the tip poking her, she again turned and looked at me, this time without a teasing smile, only brazen eye contact. I used my hand to drag the tip of my dick up and down, with the top of my shaft rubbing against her pussy and her asshole.

Still twisting her torso to the music, Nicky arched her back, and I felt the head of my cock push against her pussy lips. I began to push forward, but in the darkness and with her gyrations, there were a series of near-misses. A good amount of her juices had gotten onto me in the contact, and I felt almost crazed with frustrated anticipation.

And then it happened. On one of my thrusts forward, the head of my cock caught in the cleft of Nicky’s pussy lips. I felt her body freeze for a moment. I put my left hand on her hip bone, holding her with her back arched, and pushed myself forward. I felt resistance on the tip of my dick as it pressed against her lips, then enormous relief as it slotted in and a couple of inches popped into her. She gasped, and for a moment I was worried that she would ask me to stop. But then she resumed her swaying dancing, at first slowly, and then with more confidence.

It was not an ideal position—I was only an inch or two inside her, the strip of her underwear was chafing just a little against the side of my cock, and the way we were dancing meant that I wasn’t pushing in and out so much as having her rotating hips swirl around the head of my dick. For a moment, I considered bending her forward and driving all the way in. But I decided against it, worried that others dancing nearby might spot us. And, truthfully, it was enough. As I stood behind her, I could see her perfect neck with a sheen of sweat and a small vein pulsing in it. I could see her shoulders twisting to the music. And I could feel her pussy grasping the end of my dick as she danced. I glanced around the room and, though not a soul was paying any attention to us, I felt supremely turned on.

This lasted just a moment. Less than a minute. Nicky straightened up, and my dick popped out of her. I felt a glint of coolness on my cock as our mingled juices were touched by the air in the bar. She turned around and, still without smiling, put my manhood back in my pants. I zipped myself up, and she took my hand and led me out of the bar.

The night air in Italy is by no means cool in the summer, but stepping outside brought on a rush of sobriety. I was concerned about what we had done, and half-expecting a bar employee to follow us outside with trouble. I was also concerned about what might happen next. Nicky and I were new friends, acquaintances really, and we had just been incredibly forward with each other in a public place. Did she regret what we had done? Would the rest of our trip be awkward?

I don’t remember what we talked about as we walked back up the short path to the hotel. Maybe we didn’t talk at all. When we got back to our suite, she vanished into the bathroom and closed the door. I changed out of my clothes into a pair of comfortable basketball shorts and stepped out into the private garden to collect my thoughts. The garden was beautiful—the moon was full and high in the sky, and reflected off the perfectly flat surface of the pool.

My head was spinning. I lit a cigarette and exhaled into the Capri night sky.

After what felt like an eternity along with my thoughts, I heard the heavy glass door slide open. I turned to see Nicky step outside. As nervous as I was, I drank in her movements thirstily. The leg she extended to step forward was perfect, with the moonlight illuminating a groove of sinew running down the inside of her thigh. The summer dress she’d worn to dinner remained draped off her body, her shoulders glistening. Her hair was up, revealing her elegant neck, no longer shining with sweat but soft and smooth in the warm night air. She held a glass of wine in her hand as she walked deliberately on her toes across the grass towards the private pool. She settled herself onto a chaise near the pool, keeping her eyes on my the entire time. Her silence made me nervous, but the sight of her stretching her legs out on the chaise brought my manhood back to at least cautious attention.

I walked around the pool towards her, giving her every chance to have the first word, to tell me we’d made a horrible mistake. She kept her gaze on me over her glass of wine as I made my way to her, and handed me the glass as I sat down on the end of the chaise. I took a strong pull of the wine and handed the glass back to her, swishing the cool drink around my mouth before swallowing. A tiny drop of wine came out of the side of my mouth, and Nicky stared at it.

She then lifted one of her legs and slowly moved her foot towards my face. Expressionlessly, she used the big toe of her foot to dab the wine from the corner of my mouth. Sensing playfulness, I snapped my mouth at her foot, grabbing her toes in my mouth. My hands came up to hold her foot up by the ankle as I sucked her toes gently, tonguing them as they were in my mouth. She had beautiful feet with high arches, and I gave her foot a great deal of attention, kissing her forefoot and heel and tracing her arch with my tongue. She smiled—such relief!—and I ran my hands along her straight calves and along the side of her thighs, giving gentle squeezes to appreciate the firmness of her contours. I could taste the faint flavor of the sweat from our dancing, and feel the heat just beneath her smooth skin of her muscles still warm from the exertion.

Maintaining eye contact, she drew her leg away from me and let her knees fall to the side. The fabric of her dress shifted slightly and I could see she was bare beneath. “What happened to your panties?” I asked. “I got rid of them,” she replied with a grin, “They’re all wet.” I leaned forward and kissed her knee and slowly moved in, dragging my lips and chin along the inside of her thigh. I felt her shiver slightly at the light touch. I felt a tremble inside myself as I continued up her thigh and sensed the warmth from her pussy. I was as horny as I’d ever been, but still a little unsure of my footing, given that Nicky and I had been platonic acquaintances right up until we visited the club after dinner. But she erased any doubts I might have had about consent with a slight shift in her seat, splaying her legs just wider and moving her pussy towards me.

I took my time. With the tip of my tongue I stroked the outside of her lips, not penetrating her but getting just close enough to taste a hint of her juices before moving back out to trace the crease near her thigh. I did this for several minutes, visiting her thighs and feet for moments before returning to tenderly lick her pussy lips and kiss the small patch of hair she kept just above. She was motionless, sipping her wine and looking down at me. With time, her pussy had flowered, the coral lips blossoming. When I inserted the tip of my tongue just inside her folds, she gave a small gasp, and pushed her pussy further forward towards me. I continued to trace the folds of her lips, brushing slightly against her clit every now and again, careful to prolong the experience. It was heavenly. The flesh of her labia was firm and warm. Her juices were slick, with a delicious sweet and salty flavor that I let collect on my nose and chin. I let my tongue dart down to lick her asshole, and she emitted a short “eek!” of surprise and a giggle.

After a few more minutes, her womanhood was fully opened to me and emanating heat that would have produced steam on a colder night. I was spending much more time on her clit, swirling my tongue around the little nub. The area between her legs was soaked with her juices and my saliva. She had set her wine to the side and cast her head back with her eyes closed. She was close to coming—her breath was more rapid and audible and she alternated between holding her breath with abs tensed and breathing rapidly with small gasps. She began whispering “Oh my god… oh my god.. oh my god,” and stroking the top of my head with a shaky hand. When she came, she lifted her knees up to her chest and finally let loose a “uhhnnnn OH GOD!!” I held her by her ass as she writhed, and once her orgasm had crested, I began to tongue her pussy lips just lightly as she worked through several smaller spasms, her hand covering her mouth.

I was extremely aroused but, because of the awkward leaning position I’d been in while eating her, I’d lost my erection. I stood up and stretched, and picked up her glass of wine, taking a sip. She lay on her side with her eyes closed for a moment, then peered at me and propped herself up on her elbows. “Do you want to do… more?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Would you help me out a little?”

She dutifully sat up and ripped a tie out of her hair, shaking her long brown hair out, then pulled her dress up over her head and draped it over the back of the chaise. I thought again that she was beautiful as she sat on the chaise naked, facing me in the moonlight. Her skin was again covered in a layer of sweat and her cheeks were flushed. There could not at that moment be a woman in the world sexier than Nicky. And I felt something like pride as I stood there in my short finishing the glass of wine.

“I can absolutely help.” She reached for my shorts and tugged them down by the waistband. By then I was semi-erect again, and my cock popped forward as she pulled my shorts down. I was expecting her to blow me until I was hard, but she instead lifted my dick so it was pointing upwards, moved her face underneath, and gently dragged the tip of her tongue along the underside of my shaft, from balls to tip.
That was all it took. I was rock hard. “Lay back. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

I kicked my shorts off and grabbed her by the thighs, dragging her pussy to the edge of the chaise. I held her ankles up so that her pussy was fully exposed to me. My cock was rubbing against her then, with her cum smearing the tip. I was reminded of our tryst in the club, and grinned as I teased her with the tip, dragging it across her lips, touching it to her sensitive asshole, laying the head in the groove of her pussy.

Finally I pushed forward. Her pussy was soaking wet, but her tightness stopped me about halfway in. “Fffffffffuck!” she hissed, and her hand flew down to rub her pussy. I held position where I was—she was so hot and so tight inside, and I was so worked up that if I moved at all I would have cum right away. I looked up over the walled private garden, trying to stare at the stars and back off the edge.

After a moment, she put her hand on my cock partway inside her and stroked it gently, grinning up at me. “You feel so good,” I gasped. I slowly began to pull out, and I watched with delight as her pussy lips gripped my dick, refusing to let me all the way out. I leaned back in and began to push back and forth, enjoying the sight of our coupling. “I wish you could see your pussy. She’s so beautiful.” I slide nearly all the way in, and I could see her tender lips fold inwards, stretched pale.

With time, she stretched to accommodate me and I began to fuck her with long, full strokes, pushing all the way in and pulling nearly all the way out. Nicky’s head lolled back, eyes tightly shut, and I could see from her stomach that she was breathing with my thrusts. As we hit a groove, I had come back from the edge and was ready to take her fully. I crossed her ankles and held them in my left hand, pushing them farther up and bringing her thighs together, and thrust with greater force. I marveled at how toned her legs were—as I fucked her, there was little jiggling at all. And she was incredibly tight. I could feel every ridge inside her, every clench of her pussy muscles rippling along my shaft.

“Fuck me harder,” she gasped. “Fucking give it to me.” I released her legs and grabbed her arms, flinging them around my neck. She looked up at me quizzically, and I told her “Hold on.” I then grabbed her ass in my hands and levered her up, standing erect with the back of her knees hooked over my elbows and her arms clasped behind my neck. I began to fuck into her as I held her in the air, repeatedly bouncing her off my stomach and driving my cock into her. Her hair hung forward covering her face as she muttered “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” I felt the ring of her pussy entrance snug around my cock and the softness of her patch of pubic hair as it bumped into my own. At that moment Nicky threw her head back with a guttural “unnnnnghhh,” and her face was an unbelievably sexy combination of beauty and agony. Turned on by this vision of passion, I began fucking her with ferocity. The smacking of my hips against her ass echoed in the night sky, each thrust driving grunts out of Nicky.

Her right leg, slick with sweat, slipped off of my elbow, and I released her gently onto her own two feet. She pushed me down onto the chaise and spread her long legs across me. With her hands on my chest, she lowered her pussy onto my cock, pushing it over so it lay flat against my belly, and she began rubbing her pussy lips up and down the length of my cock. Each time she moved slightly farther until the tip of my dick began to catch on her pussy lips, and she finally reached down and guided me back into her. I again marveled at her beauty, her erect torso shining with sweat in the moonlight, and her small perky breasts pointing upwards, quaking with our coupling.

I was getting close to the edge again so we changed positions yet again. She leaned over the arm of the chaise, kneeling on the cushion with her ass tilted up in the air. And I held her by her waist, driving into her from behind. She had an athlete’s back, and the faint ripples of muscle in her back as she fucked back were incredibly sexy. I followed her body language as we fucked, pushing in at angles that caused her to cry out, speeding up with her breathing, and slowing down with her spasms.

Finally, I turned her onto her back and fucked her in missionary. I was close, and I wanted to be able to see her face and kiss her as we finished. Her pussy was sloppy with our juices and I was beginning to really hammer her, her legs locked behind my back. As she felt me begin to tense up, she kissed me and said, “Cum inside me. Fill me up. Fill me up with your cum.”

That was it. I spit on my finger and rubbed her clit as I fucked away. She managed to climax again, screaming into the open air. The vision of her face flushed in the throes of orgasm and the clenching of her pussy as she came did it. I reared back and howled myself and shot my load inside her. It felt like I came forever, as I stood still with cum jetting into her. She stroked my chest as I finished. I leaned forward and gave her another kiss, our chests pressed together sweaty. As I pulled out, I saw my cum ooze out of her, and it was as satisfying as I’d ever felt with a woman.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much more to tell. We were not romantic for the rest of the trip, nor were we after we got home. Nor did we discuss that night. Years have passed and we have both moved on, and that is almost certainly a good thing, as I believe we are both happy. It was a time in our lives when we were good for each other, and one night in particular when we were a good match in a specific way.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/72t8lh/the_capri_sun_mf