Checked into the roadside motel just outside town. Backpack slung over shoulder, keycard buzzed me into room 12. View of rolling fields, distant river glint. Corridor echoed with slamming doors, strangers’ chatter. Anonymity hit hard—no one knew me here, train ticket out tomorrow. First hot July day. Sweating already.
Met Alexandre in the lobby bar. Fellow traveler, 18, cocky grin. Same vibe: young, horny, exploring. ‘Let’s rent bikes, hit the Lidoire river,’ he said. Deal. Pedaled hard mid-afternoon. Sweat soaked our shirts. Found a hidden trail through thick woods. Tiny sunlit sand beach, perfect for two. Crystal water, dragonflies hovering. Deserted.
The Stopover
Clothes flew off. Dove naked into 80cm cool flow, tadpoles darting. Dried by walking fields in wet shorts only. Hid gear under trees. Silent loop back, sun-dazed.
Alexandre grabbed my arm. Through bushes: our beach. Her—a woman in pale yellow sundress, brown leather belt hugging slim waist. Hat down, she unzipped. Bra off, white panties dropped. Back to us: pale ass, fine curves. Heart raced. I was 17.5, virgin, shy runt. Erection instant.
The Transit
She waded thigh-deep, splashed neck. Knelt to chin, swam laps. Emerged facing us: perky tits, soft face, green eyes, light brown hair up. Thirties, lush bush triangle. Scanned empty, sarong out, belly-down tan.
We crouched meters away. Birds chirped, crickets rattled. Motionless spies. She flipped, hair cascaded, eyes shut. From our perch: full view. I belly-flat, cock throbbing against dirt. Peeked Alexandre—humping ground subtle.
Her right hand trailed belly, up tits, pinching nipples. Down thigh, inner legs. Fingered bush, stroked clit slow. Nearly blew untouched.