The discovery of Jewel

[Dave231]

Hi this is my first attempt at writing this kind of thing. I am realy interested in peoples comments, expecially the coments of the Ladies of OCC.

The discovery of Jewel part 1...
I don’t quite know how to start this, so much you already know and so much I am not used to talking about, let alone writing down, still you asked me to be honest and to write everything down so that is what I shall do.
I will start with what you already know, I had my 34th birthday last July, 34 dull years marked by a dull day with a dull man. I have been married for 14 years and have one child who is now 13 years old, this about sums up my marriage one eventful date, one happy event and 13 years of if not unpleasant, then uninteresting cohabitation. My husband, well he provides well, he means well but he is so buttoned down, so proper, so, well from the 1940’s. I truly believe he was born after his time. But then until recently the same could have been said of me.
I never was a wild child, I never rebelled against my parents, I never had a wild time at school, I never did anything much. I studied at school, never showed off never excelled. I plodded through college and into a temp agency. I never went for anything other than admin work, I never thought I could do much of anything. I went to the church group with my mother, not because I am religious but because it was what you did. I married my husband, not because I loved him but because he asked. I dressed well but never to stand out. My hair was sensible, my shoes were sensible my life was sensible.
I have heard that a couple will have more sex in the first year of their relationship than all of the following years put together. This is certainly true of my marriage. But to be honest we had more sex in the first two months of our marriage than the rest of the relationship and that was not a lot. As soon as I thought I might be pregnant, we stopped, then after the baby, well the birth was difficult and I did not want to, then, well it was hard to start again. Neither of us had the words, the experience to describe what we wanted. We tried, to be fair even my husband tried but he was so clumsy and, well proper about it. After a while and with nothing being said we just stopped trying.
I never thought of myself as attractive, this is probably why everything has come as such a shock to me. I supposed I was pretty enough, my figure, which was always slim has padded out a little, my once flat belly now slightly rounded and hips more generous than they once were (despite my best efforts with the swimming pool). My firm breasts dropped after breast feeding, but I kept a larger size, a reasonable 34b which, when well managed in a good bra suits my figure well. But I always thought I looked smart rather than attractive, and never, never sexy.
I suppose I should come on to the time of our meeting. As you know my husband and I were holidaying on the same island as you. He had a thorough itinerary of interesting cultural sites to visit, with to be fair, a shopping trip for me. This was the same pattern as all of our holidays. Our daughter was off with her school on one of their group holidays, and so this gave us an opportunity for what my husband described as “a good interesting trip” and I described as “traipsing round dusty old places with the occasional trip to a tatty tourist market”. Despite my scathing commentary I must now admit that something on the trip was interesting me. As you are well aware, as well as the archaeological interest, the island is also well known for its warm seas, secluded beaches and relaxed attitude to nude sunbathing. The site of tanned, healthy bodies sprawled on rocks like exotic flowers was making me feel decidedly strange. They were so easy, so carefree, even the most unattractive amongst them had a glamour brought about by their lack of concern for others looking at them. My husband tried his best to ignore them, and in fact I don’t think we even mentioned them.
After a particularly hot and dusty day we were walking back along the coast from some ruin or other, it might have been Greek, Roman, or Martian for all I cared we started to bicker. He wanted to visit another site before we went back to the hotel. I just wanted to shower and get a gin and tonic inside me. I thought that maybe I might lighten the mood. “look let’s just go for a swim, we have been here 4 days and we haven’t even been in the sea yet” he just looked fed up and pointed out that “A. We have a perfectly good pool at the hotel, B. We have no swimming costumes and C. the last entry for the site he wanted to visit would be coming up soon and D. The whole point of this trip is that without a child we can do what we want to do, not hang around on beaches!” I am still not sure if it was his assumption that what he wanted to do was what I wanted to do, or the fact that he listed things so pedantically that made me slip my dress off over my head and carefully fold it, my bra and my panties into our rucksack and turn to him and say “well A. I like the sea, B. Other people don’t mind not wearing swimming costumes C. I never want to see a dusty collection of half built walls again and D. I WANT TO SWIM! With that I turned walked to the sea and with enormous relief dived under the water and swam as far as I could before I needed to come up for air.
I know you want me to be honest but I honestly cannot explain how I was feeling. I was angry, but the feeling of being underwater was draining that away, I was hot, dusty and tired, but again that was being washed off me, what I was feeling I could not completely describe. I had never swum naked in my life, the water felt amazing on my body, I felt so free, it was so easy to move. My swimming costume was a sensible one piece, ok not huge, but it was a completely different experience swimming without it. With every stroke water moved over my breasts, my nipples were firm and swelling with the chill of the water, their movement through the water made me feel a thrill and this was nothing to the surge of excitement every time I kicked my legs out and water surged around my crotch. As well as the amazing sensation, I was aware that I was naked in public, ok we were alone, and there was as I have said a pretty relaxed attitude, but still that was for other people, not for me! I stopped swimming out and suddenly wanted my husband to experience this with me, I felt a need for him to be there with me. I turned back to shore and to my horror saw him stamping off away from the beach and up the road towards the hotel. I swam back towards in instantly cross with him again and as I approached the rock I had dived in from I saw my hat and my shoes, alone on the beach.
The rucksack had gone. The rucksack which I had carefully folded my clothes into, which I remembered my husband had carried all day, which I remembered seeing on his back as he stamped round the corner away from the beach was gone!
I stared in horror, as I floated towards the shore. The excitement had been surmounted with fear, I wondered what to do, would he realise and come back, probably not, could I swim round to the beach in front of the hotel, I want sure, but I was starting to get cold and the beach in front of the hotel was very busy with families. I floated in horror for a little longer and thought I might be able to get my hat and run round the beaches looking to beg or steal a towel from somebody, one of the nude sunbathers, but no! the nudist beaches were on the other side of the island, this side was for families damn Damn DAMN!
I crouched down low as I got out of the water and grabbed my hat. It was the flowerpot type, the sort sensible English ladies wear when abroad, good for keeping the sun off your head but what I would have given for a ridiculous big floppy brimmed hat. At that moment my blood froze, I could defiantly hear something, the same bloody thing I had heard when I first came on this horrible holiday, the sound of the coach driver leading the newly arrived party to “one of the many beautiful coves for you enjoyment” As I looked towards the path to the road I saw the coach tour of about thirty people, old and young walking towards me.
I believe at that moment I died, I had a heart attack, the ground opened me up and swallowed me deep inside, where I spent the rest of eternity curled in a foetal position of complete embarrassment. I also found myself standing up straight, adjusting my hat on my head and thinking let them see. This is not a thought I ever think, but I thought it then. The sensation of the sun on my naked skin, the fear I was feeling, the drying salt on my nipples, the gentle breeze caressing my naked buttock, made me a little drunk. I stood erect, carefully placed one foot then the next into my sandals and walked confidently towards the road. I heard the gasps first, strange that they should carry so well. The coach driver was still prattling on while the cameras turned from the beach to my direction. I saw two men look me up and down say their eyes widen. I say a young lad of about 15 swallow hard as I walked by. I heard the coach driver stop talking and a silence hang in the air as I strode confidently past, my head high looking straight ahead. I had no idea where I was going, I felt a thrill of excitement and shock as I walked past. I heard cameras click parents mutter “Shame” and cover their children’s eyes and then I heard a sound I wasn’t expecting, a slow, warm hand clap.
I looked up and saw you for the first time. You were a older dapper gentleman dressed all in white. All I can remember of that first sight is you pale blue eyes in a tanned weatherworn face and your white clothes shining like the wings of an angel. Your clapping and your warm smile eased my fear. You had a look in your eye, the same look you always have when you are enjoying yourself, an eager, confident, hungry look behind your calm face like you are savouring every minute detail. I saw you remove your linen jacket and white scarf as you walked towards me. This was the time I felt most terrified and most excited. It was all very well pretending the coach party did not exist, but you had made eye contact, you were real, you were a stranger and I was naked with teenagers lusting after me, wives hating me and men wanting me. I nearly fainted, I could feel warmth spreading from between my legs and up into my pelvis, I could feel my lips swelling my mouth felt dry and I started to sway a little.
You simply walked up to me, expertly tied your wide whit scarf around my waist like a sarong, buttoned your jacket over my chest, the rough linen rubbing on my nipples. You smiled and slipped a mobile phone into the jacket pocket patted me on the bum and said simply “Bravo”.
I walked away in a daze, I do not remember anything about the walk back to the hotel except the feel of the rough fabric on my bare chest and the flapping of a thin white cotton scarf around my thighs. I remember being startled in the lift as the doors closed and I saw my reflection, I was surprised because I did not recognise myself, I looked fantastic, the simple jacket exposing my cleavage and midriff, the scarf tied asymmetrically accentuated my hips and clung to my bottom (yes I looked to check in the mirror) and dipped in a triangle where my legs met at the front.
I walked into the hotel room carefully took off your jacket and scarf, neatly hung them on a chair, climbed into my nightdress and collapsed on the bed. I lay there for a length of time, I cannot say how long half hiding from what had happened half craving the thrill of the mixed emotions. I though of the sensation of the linen on my nipples as you stared into my eyes, I could feel my breasts swell, my nipples harden against my night dress as I remembered the sensation of the onlookers eyes on my body. I felt the warmth between my legs, felt my vagina swell, the lips part the moisture start. Felt your strong fingers inside me, probing me caressing me, filling me with heat and emotion while others looked on, their eyes dripping with lust, their breath caught the sound of somebody swallowing hard.
The sound caused me to open my eyes, I looked up to see my husband looking on, his face red, his mouth a little open. I felt the shame rush up to my face as I realised that one of my hands was between my legs, two fingers buried deep inside me the other had cupped my breast and was gently lifting and stroking over the thin fabric of my night gown.
For a moment we stared at each other, but the same feeling as earlier came over me, I had buried my shame on that beach, I was dammed if I would feel shame now. I looked at my husband and raised one eyebrow. He shut his mouth, turned around and walked heavily towards the door and turning back said “who are you?” and left slamming the door as he went.
I got dressed and met him downstairs. He couldn’t look at me, but said in a rather aloof way that there was an island hopping tour of sites he wanted to see happening and that he would be away for a few days and that we would talk when he got back. I could see that he was hurt and I realised that he could not deal with seeing the mother of his child behaving in such a way, I could see that he desperately wanted to join me, but could not and I could see that he could never reconcile our marriage with what he had seen in that room . I ordered a drink and realised that I did not feel sad, I was happy, more happy than I had felt for a long time, I could not explain why but I felt a window in my life had opened and a cool breeze was clearing out a stuffy room. I walked back up to our, well now my room and saw that a few of his cloths and his toilet bag had gone. I sat on the bed wondering what to do, what to feel, feeling blank, that’s when the phone in your jacket pocket rung.

[ginas1989]

I don't want to be critical, but for the sake of readability... on long stories like this you really need to use linefeeds to separate the paragraphs. I really wanted to read the whole thing, but it's just to hard... lose track of where I am at a lot, especially once you get into the middle.

Other than that it looked like an interesting read and I'd be eager to go through it all if you went back and added the breaks.