Excerpt: Skinny Dipping

“Oh my God.” Catherine’s hands are pressed to her mouth, her arms folded over her breasts. Her eyes are wide, and her long black hair is plastered to her bare back. She’s standing waist-deep in the Mediterranean, her pale skin dimly lit by the lights of Santorini beach bars and cafes. On the beach, the little group of kids laughs, pointing at us and shouting and, carrying our clothes, runs back up the beach and into town. Leaving the both of us naked, a mile away from our hostel.

I met her in my hostel courtyard, a couple of days before. Santorini is a volcano, with towering cliffs and picturesque towns along the rim of the caldera, all those white walls and blue roofs you see in tourist brochures and travel magazines. All the cheap lodging is on the outer shoreline, where the volcano slopes down to meet the warm Mediterranean sea. That’s also where the beaches are, black volcanic sand dotted with craggy rocks on either end and a scattering of casual bars and cafes serving the more budget-minded backpackers that pass through Santorini during their tours of Greece.

Catherine is from British Columbia, with olive skin and almond-shaped eyes that speak of native heritage. She has generous hips and small, round breasts, and full lips set in a soft, thoughtful face. She’s quiet, but very alive, constantly asking questions, trying to learn phrases in Greek, trying to figure out how to get to places most people wouldn’t even bother with. She tends to dress in high-waisted denim shorts and crop tops that show off her flat dark belly and long, smooth legs.

So yesterday, we spent the day on quads, exploring the island with a couple of other people from the hostel. We traced the cliffs, drove to the mountaintop monastery in the center of the island, watched the sunset from the eastern village of Oia underneath the old windmills there. Last night we all got drunk, and although it was all of us together, there was a moment between Catherine and I, one of those looks that carries some weight to it. But then the night continued, and nothing happened. Tonight, though.

Tonight, we went to one of the little beach bars. Our friends were looking for music, and they found some. Catherine and I slipped out early, went down on the darkened beach. Walked and talked, listening to the waves rustle against the sand.

“You ever been skinny dipping?” Catherine asked.

I raised an eyebrow. “Couple times,” I said.

She looked out at the ocean, then back at me. “I haven’t.”

I looked back at her for a moment, then peeled off my shirt. A second later we were both laughing and pulling off clothes, leaving them in a pile on the beach. I dropped my shorts without looking to see what she was doing and hit the water first, falling over in a splash and swimming out as she came crashing in after me. The water was cool on my body, and shallow. I rolled to see Catherine close behind me. The beach was a little ways off now, and she was just a shadow against the light there, her head above the surface of the water. She stilled when she saw me looking at her. That heavy moment again.

And it was then that I saw the kids, running down the beach towards our clothes. I stood up, the water coming to my waist, and Catherine turned in the water, then stood up too. Her hands go to her mouth.

And there we are. Naked in the water, a mile from home.

“Those little assholes,” Catherine says, a note of disbelief in her voice. She shivers a little, hugs her arms to her body. Throws a glance back at me. “What now?”

I shrug, starting to shiver myself. “We might be able to skirt the town and make it back to the hostel that way.”

“Those little fuckers,” Catherine says. “God damn.” She looks back at me again, arms still crossed over her breasts. And then we’re both laughing, helpless with it. “I’m not gonna lie,” she says, when we’ve recovered a bit. “I had not ruled out the idea of trying to see you naked. Didn’t really see it going like this, though.” She looks back at me, I look at her, and we start laughing again.

“Come on,” I say, and point towards the cliffs a few hundred meters down the beach. “It’s darker down there. Let’s shoot for the rocks and try to circle around.”

We slosh through the water towards the rocks. Catherine’s arms are still crossed over her chest. The water shallows and is suddenly only up to our hips. I try not to look down at her and I can see her trying to not look down at me. Then she suddenly starts giggling and stops, turning towards me. She throws her arms wide. She has brown little nipples, stiff with the cold, and goosebumped breasts just a little bigger than a handful. Between her legs there’s a triangle of dark hair, and her hips are strong and smooth. “Here I am,” she says. “Might as well get it out of the way.” I see her eyes go down to my cock and I’m suddenly thankful it’s not colder. She starts laughing again, then covers her eyes with her hands. “God.” She shakes her head. “Well, at least you’re not gross or something.”

I eye her up and down theatrically. “Likewise,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she says.

We walk in shallower water now, up to our knees. Our bodies are softly lit in the light coming from the bars, but we’re too far away for anyone up there to really see us as anything more than shadows down by the shore. The cliffs ahead of us loom up dark in the night. There aren’t any bars under it’s lee, just a flat dirt pullout and a couple of dark parked cars. We splash out onto the beach in silence, shivering a bit. There’s a meter-high tide wall between the sand and the cars, and I pull myself up onto it, then turn to reach a hand to Catherine. She takes it in a firm grip a moment later she’s standing beside me, close to me in the dark. I’m suddenly aware again of our nakedness. For a moment she looks at me, and I look at her, the light of the half moon glittering in her eyes. Then she casts a nervous glance at the bars. We can make out a few people sitting and drinking at the outdoor tables there. I point to a dark road leading off to the right, along the line of rocks. “That should come around to the hostel,” I say. “And I think most of the buildings along it are empty.” All hollowed out, half finished when the recession hit. She nods, swallowing.

We wince our way across the gravel lot, making a wide circle around the parked cars just in case, and then we’re on warm asphalt, hurrying past the shoreline road and onto the quiet, dark one that leads back around the edge of town. We walk in silence. Then Catherine glances at me, back at the moon, low on the horizon behind us. “This place is ridiculously romantic,” she says. “I just can’t figure out if us being naked makes it more romantic or less.”

“I guess it’s a little humbling,” I say. “Like one of those dreams you have as a teenager, you know?” I look at her sideways. “I really liked that bikini, too.”

She punches me lightly in the shoulder. “Me too!” she says, and laughs again. Then her hand flattens, gripping my arm. “Headlights.”

A car’s coming towards us from ahead. “Shit,” I say, and look to either side of the road. The left side’s just a fence. The right side is still butting up against the rocks. I point ahead, maybe fifty meters. A little pullout, with some boulders strewn between the road and the cliffs. “Think we can make it?”

But Catherine’s already running, her ass round and dusky in the night ahead of me. I sprint to catch up, the asphalt stinging my bare feet. We make the pullout just as the headlights are almost on us. Catherine darts right, diving behind a big bush and crouching down. A moment later, I’m beside her.

The headlights splash across us an instant later, shadowing our skin with the dry branches of the bush, but we’re well out of sight. We hold our breath. The car slows, then turns, right into the pullout. “Shit,” Catherine hisses. “You think they saw us?” We crouch low, hiding behind a low burm of rock, looking at each other with wide eyes. The headlights roll off of us, aiming at the rocks, then shut off, but the car’s engine is still rumbling in idle. We hear the sound of a car door, then low talking. Then —

Catherine wriggles closer to me, cupping her hand over my ear and whispering into it. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ever so carefully, we lift our heads, peer over the rock. Sure enough, a Greek couple is standing outside the running car, making out. Their hands are everywhere. Catherine looks at me, eyes wide, hand over her mouth. Clearly entertained.

Both of the Greeks are attractive in that Mediterranean way, slim bodies, dark skin, black hair. The man cups the woman’s ass under her thin dress and moves her, sliding her along the car until she’s in front of it. He lifts her up and sets her on the hood.

“No,” Catherine whispers beside me.

The man slides the woman’s dress up her legs, then up over her waist, her breasts, off over her head. He throws it on top of the car and then, kissing her, takes off her bra. He kisses her breasts, then kisses a line down her belly and, pulling her panties off as he does, buries his head between her legs. A moment later, we begin to hear her moaning.

“Jesus,” Catherine says. She’s still close to me. Her hand slides from my ear to my shoulder and rests there. Her calves are taut from holding the crouch and she shifts her weight uncomfortably, but doesn’t look away.

I feel around on the ground and find a flat rock wide enough for both of us. “Here,” I say into her ear, and sit down. She sits down beside me. Neither of us are too worried about being seen anymore, not as involved as the two on the car are. The stone is small, and Catherine has to press against me to fit. Her thigh is smooth and cool against mine. She leans against me, ever so slightly.

On the car, the man pulls off his shirt and unbuckles his belt. The woman sits up, kissing him, fumbling at his trousers, then finds his cock, pulling it out and guiding it into her. The man groans too now, and they’re fucking in earnest, the hood making metal denting sounds with each thrust.

Catherine leans close to me, warm against me. Breathes into my ear: “God, if I had a cock right now, I’d be hard too.”

I’m suddenly aware of my erection, aware of her awareness of it. My heart starts beating faster.

The girl on the hood begins to cry out, coming now, and the man groans. They go limp in a shadowed heap on the hood of the car. A few moments later they separate. They are Greek, so two cigarettes are lit. Catherine leans in again, her breath tickling my ear. “I’m actually kind of wet right now.”

I hesitate, then put my hand on her knee. She lays her hand over mine, and slowly, mouth parting a little, slides it up her leg to her pussy. I cup her pussy in my hand, then let my middle finger slip through her labia. She’s dripping. Her breath catches and then goes hot against my ear. I take my time, exploring her pussy with my hand, aware of the energy crackling in her body, held still and quiet by the two on the car. I put my mouth to her ear and breathe, “I see what you mean.”

Movement, then the engine starting. “Down,” she hisses, pushing me onto my back on the flat stone. A second later she straddles me, pressing her body down against mine so that we’re both hidden by the low mound of earth. Moments later, headlights wash over the branches above us, then turn back onto the road. And then the engine is grumbling off into the distance, and it’s just the two of us, breathing hard, her laying on top of me, looking into my eyes in the dark. I kiss her, and she kisses me back, tenderly, fiercely, hungrily. Her body is hot against mine. Her legs are splayed, her pussy just inches from my now straining cock, but she doesn’t try to move down against it, doesn’t try to fuck me, not yet. She just kisses me, taking it slow, fingers twining idly in my hair, breasts soft against my chest.

“I was going to kiss you in the water, you know,” she says, finally lifting her face from mine for a moment. “Those kids made me lose my nerve.”

I smile and slide my hands down her back, cupping her ass. It’s firm and smooth and it’s all I can do to not push her down towards my cock. “I have to admit,” I say, “I’m usually less naked for my first kisses.”

She kisses me. “Me too.” She lifts herself up on her hands, so that she’s peering down at me, her nipples just brushing my chest. She edges backward down my body. Inching towards my cock. “Just because I’m naked doesn’t mean I’m going to put out just for the first time you kiss me.” She pushes herself down me slowly, until my cock is just resting against the lips of her pussy. “I’m surprisingly proper.”

I groan, wanting nothing more to flip her over and fuck her there, and for a moment she just sits there feeling the touch too, considering. Then she leans forward, kisses me once on the mouth, and stands, decisively, over me. She reaches a hand down to me. “Shall we?”