It was supposed to be a romantic break for me and my husband. Two weeks on Ikaria, a small, sleepy Greek island, was just what we both needed after a stressful few months at work.

A week before we were due to leave, Beck came home from work excitedly. “I’ve been given a promotion, heading up a new account. The only problem is I need to start next week,” he added quietly.

“What about our break?” I asked, shocked that he had decided this without asking me.

“Sorry, Katie. They needed an answer today. We can reschedule it for later in the year.”

Needless to say I was a little pissed off, I had been looking forward to it. My leave from work was booked, and cover had been arranged for the next two weeks.

We decided to cancel the break, and then he suggested that Beth, my nineteen-year-old stepdaughter, could go in his place. We asked her if she wanted to go with me, and she quickly agreed. She was on her break from University and had no serious plans for the two weeks.

So here we are, after a long flight and transfer, sitting on a quiet beach, the first of probably many cocktails in our hands, the warm Aegean wind blowing around us, and the gentle sound of waves lapping on the private beach outside our small apartment. Not a soul to be seen, just the vast expanse of the Aegean Sea, with a few boats slowly moving across the horizon.

“This is perfect,” said Beth. “Two weeks here, in the sun, drinking cocktails. What more could we want? Thank you for inviting me,” she said, taking hold of my hand and lightly squeezing it.

“It is,” I said, thinking that these two weeks would turn out differently than I initially expected.

We spent the next few days relaxing on the beach or wandering around the local town, sitting in some of the few bars on the small island. During the day, the streets were mostly empty. The locals tended to stay out of the heat and sun, just a few were walking around or driving through the small town, but by the evening, when the sun was less intense, the streets, shops and bars were busier.

Everyone appeared to know each other, and friendly hugs and laughter filled the streets. It was an idyllic place. There were few tourists, perhaps just a handful of us; it was hard to tell. Most locals spoke very little English, and we struggled with a few words; hand signals dominated some conversations.

One hot afternoon, we were sitting in the shade on the beach. “I’m going for a walk into town. Do you want anything, Mum?” Beth asked.

“No thanks. I’m fine sitting here in the shade.”

“Okay, see you later.”

She was gone for a couple of hours and returned just before dinner.

“How was your walk?” I asked.

“Good. I had a massage. It’s a small place just off the main street. I feel so refreshed now. You should go and get one, he’s very good. It’s just a local guy, quite old, maybe late 30s,” she laughed.

“Hey. Not funny,” I said.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. He’s good with his hands and he’s got a hot bod,” she chuckled. “You should go and get one. I’ll go with you and show you where it is.”

I hadn’t had a massage for many years, but the thought did appeal to me.

“Okay, maybe I will.”

Over dinner, Beth convinced me to go with her the next day.

It was another warm day, the skies were blue, and the wind was warm. We walked into the small town, where just a few small shops selling the essentials were dotted about, and very few people were walking around in the heat of the day. Beth guided me down a side street to what looked like a pharmacy. We went in, the room was cool, the air con was working overtime today, and it was a welcome relief from the heat. Around us were various bottles and medicines on display.

A man in his early to mid-thirties was sitting in a chair reading a paper. He glanced up at us and smiled when he saw us. He probably wasn’t expecting many customers today.

“Hi,” said Beth. “This is my mum, Katie. She has come for a massage.”

“Yes, okay,” he said in a thick accent. Like many here, his English was likely limited to a few basic words.

“I’ll wait in the cafe, on the main street,” Beth said, as he guided me through a door into another room. It was all clean, white tiles and very clinical. A frosted glass window let in the midday sun, while an air conditioning unit hummed away to itself, keeping the room cool. A black padded table was in the middle of the room, with various bottles of oils on another small table.

He guided me to the table and helped me sit on the edge. He knelt before me, removed my sandals, and helped me lie on my front.

“I start here,” he said, touching my calves.

“Okay.”

“May I?” he asked, taking hold of the hem of my dress. I pulled it up my legs to mid-thigh, conscious of showing off my legs to a stranger, but I doubted they were the first he’d seen.

I felt him start working on my feet and legs, spreading the oils on me, his fingers diving into the muscles in all the right places. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing. I relaxed as he continued working on me, and I felt the last of the stresses of the previous months start to fade away in his hands.

After a while, he passed me a towel. Then, he said something I didn’t understand. He pointed to my back and then to his. He wanted to do my lower back, but the dress was in the way. I should have thought about this and worn something more appropriate.

He turned around and faced away from me as I wondered what to do. I was still wearing panties and a bra, so I removed the dress, reasoning that I showed more skin when sitting by the pool in a bikini. I pulled the dress over my head and lay back on the bed, pulling the towel over my ass to protect my modesty.

“Okay,” I said, and he turned around.

He smiled. “Very nice body,” he said.

I doubted he meant to say that, but I thanked him anyway. He worked on my lower back, pulling the towel down a little way as he applied more oil, then he moved onto my shoulders, moving the bra straps to one side so he could get to them without them being in the way.

“May I?” he asked again, now tugging at my bra strap.

I wasn’t sure about this, but I was lying on my front, so nervously, I said, “Okay.”

I felt the strap tension release, and his hands were now free to roam all over my back. I felt him climb onto the bed and sit on my legs while he pressed his weight into my back and shoulders. It was an unusual massage technique, but it worked and felt good.

His hands then moved to my legs and slid under the towel a little, massaging up to the ends of my panties, his oiled fingers moving slightly between my tightly closed thighs and down to my knees.

He slid off the table, and I felt his hands on my legs, working each one, bending them at my knees and working the oil into the pressure points on my feet.

In the relaxed state I was in, I realised my legs were spread and he probably had a clear view up my legs to my panties. The thought of a stranger looking at my panty covered crotch sent a shiver down my spine and ended at my clit and it started to tingle.

I had to stop before things got out of hand, but he stopped before I could move. He stood beside the bed, and I looked at him. He indicated that I would roll over onto my back. With my loose bra, that wouldn’t happen, so I shook my head.

He nodded and passed me another towel and pointed to my boobs. I bit my lip and knew I should finish and get out of there, but for some reason, I took the towel from him, and he turned around again. I removed my bra and rolled over, spreading the towel over my boobs.

He then set to work on me again, covering my waist with the towel before working on my upper thighs and my arms. I was so relaxed, I closed my eyes, feeling his hands roaming over me. All thoughts left my head as I concentrated solely on his hands. I felt him standing above my head, his hands working over my upper chest and shoulders, then they slowly slid under the towel a little, his fingers lightly grazing the edges of my boobs.

I took in a sharp intake of breath as his fingers lightly touched me. It was wrong, and I should have stopped it, but I wanted more of his touch. My heart rate increased and I felt my nipples begin to harden as his hands ventured further under the towel, his fingers now on the sides of my boobs, circling and lifting them lightly.

He moved them around my upper body again, then I felt the towel move and his hands moved fully onto my boobs, my hard nipple rubbing over his fingers. I gasped at his touch and opened my eyes, looking at his hands now caressing my bare tits.

I should have stopped and got out of there, but something stopped me. I was enjoying the attention; it was so erotic, so sensual. It was wrong, but I needed some attention. Then I thought of Beth. Did he do the same to her yesterday? Is that why she said I should come?

His fingers lightly squeezed my hard nipples, making me shudder; my body was getting turned on. I could feel my clit tingling as I enjoyed his touch. He moved around me and sat on my legs again, his hands now free to roam over all of my naked upper body.

I was getting turned on, but knew I had to stop.

“I think that’s enough,” I said, but I doubted he understood me. “No more,” I said, taking hold of his hands.

He nodded, got off, and asked me to roll over onto my front again, which I did, knowing he couldn’t get access to my boobs now. His hands went back to my legs, then up my back to my shoulders, diving under the towel and into my panties, grabbing hold of my ass cheeks.

I sighed deeply. This had to stop. I should get off here and leave, but his hands felt so good on me. I guess it had been a while since Beck and I had last had sex, maybe five or six weeks, maybe more. Finding time or the energy to be intimate was difficult, but now I had all the time in the world, and it felt good to be touched, even if he was a stranger. I decided to let him continue for now.

I felt his hands still kneading my ass cheeks, then realised the towel was gone. More oil was being added, and his fingers eased between my slightly parted legs, touching my inner thighs. The touch sent sparks direct to my pussy and I felt myself starting to get excited with each close touch to my intimate area.

He continued moving around my body, and I relaxed, the stresses and strains having already melted away and replaced with the need to feel his hands on me. Then I felt a slow deliberate move, as one hand slid between my thighs and up to my panties, pressing the now damp gusset against my soaking wet pussy. I couldn’t help letting out a soft moan as he touched somewhere he shouldn’t be touching.

“I make you feel good,” he said, as he held his hand against my pussy. Again, I should have left, but I didn’t. I just lay there and felt his fingers continuing to press against me, my excitement levels climbing as my body craved more of his touches.

Then I felt his hand moving slowly around between my thighs, as his fingers sought out my clit still hiding behind my panties. I gasped as I felt the increased pressure and my pussy pulsed as he pressed against my clit.

“You shouldn’t be touching me there,” I moaned, trying to convince myself that I knew it was wrong, but deep down, I didn’t want him to remove his fingers, not until I had found some release.

He didn’t remove them, probably not understanding what I had said. Still, he continued to circle my clit, my panties were damp from my juices and his oily fingers,  and I could feel them moving with his fingers. They gave way and his fingers directly touched my swollen and wet labia, sliding through them and into my soaked and excited pussy.

“No,” I groaned, as my pussy clamped down on his fingers, feeling sparks of energy flickering around my most intimate area. “You shouldn’t be doing that,” I said. Instead of moving away, I felt my hips moving in small circles, my body encouraging him to continue to focus his attention on my pussy.

I felt my legs relax and spread slightly, allowing him easier access as he moved his fingers around inside me, pressing them against the front wall of my pussy while his thumb circled my clit. My pussy reacted as I expected, producing more fluid and craving even more attention.

I felt his fingers leave me, and before I knew it, my damp panties were being pulled down my hips, which I instinctively raised, allowing him to remove them from me. Then his fingers were back, probing at my dripping pussy and entering me again, two then three of his thick fingers spreading my soaking pussy wide, teasing the insides and making me crave more of his attention.

I lay there, feeling his fingers in me, my breath becoming ragged as an orgasm approached. I knew I should get off the bed and leave before things got really out of hand. Was he going to try and fuck me? I couldn’t let him do that. His fingers were in me, and that was too much already.  I closed my eyes and imagined what his cock would look like and how it might feel if he pushed it into me.  My hands gripped the edges of the table as a big release came, making me exhale loudly and my body shake and push back on his fingers, feeling the ache inside me fade momentarily, and then start to grow again as my body worked its way to a second, more powerful release.

His fingers were bringing me close to the second release, then I felt them leave me, making me groan loudly as the stimulation stopped. His hands, now on my hips, guided me up onto all fours, and the excitement level increased again as I waited for his fingers on and inside me once more. He was sure to have better access in this position and take me over the edge that my body was now craving.

I felt his fingers on my pussy, rubbing my clit, my juices flowing out of me adding to the oil he used on me initially. Then I felt contact on my pussy, and both hands were on my hips. I looked behind me as saw he was kneeling behind me, looking at my pussy as his hands spread my cheeks wide open. His cock was touching me, waiting outside my gaping pussy. I felt the head settle between my lips, forcing me wider open than his fingers had.

“No,” I groaned. “No sex, we can’t do that.” But my body had other ideas and I felt myself pushing against his cock, feeling his size against me as my labia opened up. “No,” I cried again, as I pushed back against him, feeling the bulbous head of his large cock spreading my insides wider than I was used to going. My pussy instantly found the second release it craved and I came hard on his forbidden cock. “Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted as I felt him pushing forward into me.

He started to go faster. “Nice pussy,” he said, as I pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the head of his cock push past my cervix and deep into the depths of my pussy, somewhere where Beck could never reach. I came hard again, my pussy clamping down him as our hips eventually touched, signalling he had fully penetrated my married pussy.

“Fuck,” I gasped, as I got used to feeling him deep inside me. I looked back over my shoulder, and our eyes met. “Fuck me,” I groaned, moving my body slightly on him. The language barrier disappeared, the universal language of sex now taking over. He knew what I wanted and he started to fuck me with slow and powerful moves. I gripped the edge of the table hard, steadying myself as he took me from behind.

I knew it was wrong, I shouldn’t have let it go this far, but it was too late now, he was in me, so deep inside me, fucking me like no one ever had before.

I felt him slow down, and I came to my senses. The thought of Beth waiting for me outside, my husband back home, made me realise I had to stop. How far had Beth gone yesterday? Did she fuck him as well? Is this why she wanted me to come today, so that I could cheat on her father? Was this her plan? With a groan I pulled off him and slid off the table, standing on wobbling legs, looking at his enormous cock that was bobbing around between his legs, the cock that had just given me so much pleasure deep inside my pussy.

I looked for my panties as he lay back and held his cock upright, waving it around gently, holding his hand out towards me, wanting me to carry on. My breathing was hard and my heart still pounding in my chest as my resistance melted and I climbed back onto the table and straddled his lap, sinking his cock deep into me once more. “Fuck,” I gasped, as I willingly impaled myself onto his large stiff shaft once more, wanting him to make me feel good again.

He held my ass, guiding me up and down on him as he took my hard nipples into his mouth, lightly biting and tugging on them with his teeth, then kissing them lightly as he sent pleasure signals straight to my pussy. I rocked on him slowly then started to fuck him hard. With each deep penetration I could hear myself making quiet whimpering noises, noises I had never made before. Each thrust of his cock deep into me spawned another whimper as the head pushed against the end of my pussy.

He managed to roll us over, moving me onto my back and sitting between my legs. He spread them wide, bending them at the knees and placing my arms under my knees to support them. He raised the headrest of the table so my chin was touching my chest, forcing me to look down beyond my oil covered tits to my pussy, which was wide open for him to gaze upon.  He moved closer and lightly slapped my wet lips and clit with his cock, bringing shivers to my body.

“Fuck me,” I mumbled, desperate to watch and feel his stiff shaft penetrate me again. He moved closer and entered me, sliding slowly into me, making sure I could feel every delicious inch of his wonderful cock push deeper into me. I came again as I felt him deep inside me, his hands on my boobs supporting himself as he slowly fucked me.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my pussy wet and sloppy with the copious amount of fluids now leaking from me, fluids that I could feel running down over my ass.

He sat up and grabbed my hands, our fingers entwining tightly as he started to move quicker in me, fucking me with fast, powerful strokes. I could feel him repeatedly hammering into the back of my pussy, as I lay watching his body force his cock deep into me. I felt a big orgasm approach out of nowhere, my eyes focusing on his as they locked together, his body pushing his cock ever deeper into me. I lost focus and cried out loudly as I came, squeezing his fingers tightly as my pussy spasmed over his cock. All rational thoughts left my mind, all I could think of was his cock, spreading me wider than any other cock had done, pushing deeper into me than any other cock had been.  A cock that shouldn’t be inside me, but was making me cum hard, harder than any other cock had ever done before.

I used my hips, twisting my pelvis upwards, trying to get him deeper, if that was possible, my body shaking wildly as my pussy spasmed on his cock.

I came down from my high focussed on his eyes again, our fingers were still tightly entwinned as he hammered his cock relentlessly into me. I could feel my tits shaking around my body and he slammed himself deep into me, his hips repeatedly slapping loudly against mine, the sound echoing around the room.

He started to moan softly, I knew he was about to cum. I opened my mouth to tell him to pull out, but a large orgasm hit me as I felt his cock stiffen even more inside me.

He stopped moving, and we looked into each other's eyes. “Fuck me,” I managed to croak, but he didn’t move. I knew he was about to cum. My pussy grabbed onto his cock, my hips moving trying to encourage some movement. “Fuck me,” I groaned again.

He moved slowly out, then pushed back in, holding himself inside me again.

“Fuck me, fuck my pussy. Make me cum, cum in me,” I moaned, shocking myself at my request. I could feel my heart rate increase with my request for him to impregnate me. “Fuck me. Cum in my pussy,” I cried, my pussy gasping his cock as I requested him to fill me with his cum. “Cum in me, give me your seed,” I said, my eyes bulging as I sensed he was about to send his seed into my fertile pussy.

He pulled back, then rammed himself deep into me. I felt his cock pulse inside me as he let his sperm loose, firing it into me. “Yes, cum in me. Give me your seed,” I cried, my eyes losing focus as my pussy grasped at his cock, milking his cum into me. I came hard as I imagined his semen coating the inside of my married pussy, his seed being delivered deep inside me. I felt him begin to move and he started fucking me slowly, his cock still hard and ejaculating. “Yes, I can feel you still cuming in me, give it to me. Fuck me, fuck me harder. Give me your fucking cum. Flood my cunt with your sperm.”

Eventually, he slid out of me. I caught my breath then felt a gush of fluid running down over my ass.

“I cum,” he said.

I nodded. The realisation of what I had just done fell heavily on me. I had cheated on my husband and asked him to deliver his probably potent seed into me. I lowered my legs and placed my feet on the table, moving a hand to my leaking pussy, feeling his cum slowly seeping out of me.

I whimpered as my fingers ran through it, rubbing it into my aroused clit. I came hard again as I used his cum as lube, my clit throbbing as I strummed it with my fingers. I reached for his cock and took hold of it, feeling it in my hand for the first time. The cock that had just delivered its load deep into my fertile body.

“I need to go,” I said, getting off the table and feeling his cum running down my legs. He passed me a towel, and I wiped it between my legs while he wiped off the excess oil around my body.

I dressed and noticed an open diary on the table. Today’s date had Katie on it. I recognised the writing; it was Beth’s. On yesterday’s date, it said Beth. So she had booked me in yesterday, knowing I would probably come.

I found the pen and wrote “Beth” the next afternoon, then, after a moment's pause, I wrote “Katie” the following afternoon.