Shortly after we retired, I was at a hot spring resort with my husband. It was a clothes-optional place, which realistically means everyone went without clothes. It was late spring, a little too early for most of the tourists, so we had the place pretty much to ourselves. He and I had been having a wonderful vacation. Most mornings and evenings were still chilly, but it was easy to be nude in the midday sun. We saw a few other couples there, but the place was mostly empty.
Around lunch time, my husband returned to the motorhome to make some food. I was sitting at a picnic table not really doing anything, just feeling the sun on my back, when a young boy, he couldn’t have been more than 18 or 19 years old, walked by. I had seen him a couple of times before. I think he had a job there, because I saw him pushing a wheelbarrow, fixing some sort of plumbing, and so on. Sometimes he was nude, some times wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
This time, he was naked. He stopped, and said “Hi.”
I said, “Hi.”
He then said, “Your back is getting too much sun.”
That was rather odd, because I hadn’t been in the sun nearly long enough to get a tan, let alone a burn.
“I’ve got some sunscreen here. Why don’t you let me put some on your back?”
“Um, that’s OK,” I replied thinking that was a very strange thing he offered.
“No, really, I’ll just put some on you.”
Now, I wouldn’t say I’m prudish, but I’m not interested in being touched by young men who are not my husband, or so I thought.
At the time, although it struck me as a little weird or something, I just figured it would make him happy, so I acquiesced.
After all, I was a middle-aged, actually somewhat beyond middle-aged woman, a bit on the heavy side. Not someone that he, or anyone would find attractive. So, it couldn’t be a sexual, thing, right?
He sat down on the bench next to me, and applied the cream to my back. His hand was surprisingly warm and rather nice in a way.
“Turn around, I’ll get your front, too.”
Why in the world I turned around so innocently, I don’t know. Now, he was sitting on the same picnic bench so close, I could feel his breath. He leaned back just a bit, and applied the cream to the front of my shoulders.
I happened to glance down at his crotch area, and he was half-erect. I almost jumped in fright. This was just too weird. My first reaction may not be what you’d think. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. I guess I didn’t want to look interested, or something.
Before I could even react, he had moved his oily hand down and he was rubbing my boobs, and oddly, was running his fingers very lightly over my right nipple. You’d think I would have stopped him, but I didn’t. By now it was quite obviously something sexual, not just some weird kid applying sunscreen.
I just let him continue. I’ve thought about this moment many times. I can’t explain why I didn’t put a stop to it right away. He rubbed his hands together, getting some of the oil on his other hand, and without asking, he just reached down and put his hand on my pussy. I was horrified, yet I was transfixed. He quickly found my clit with his index finger. He only stroked it like three times. Then he got up, quietly said, “Thank you.” and left. He left me actually wanting more. I wanted him to make me cum.
Nothing like that happened the rest of my time there. I saw him a couple more times doing chores around the place. He nodded. I nodded. He might have winked one time, or maybe I imagined that. That was it.
I thought about it for days. More than anything else, I felt somehow guilty. But I also wondered if I could have handled the situation differently. Maybe I should have invited him to continue. Maybe I should have reached out and touched him in some way. Frankly, I was as confused as an adolescent. I’d never had feelings like this concerning a youngster before. I’ve actually jilled off a few times imagining what would have happened if I had asked him to stay when he started to get up. And, here’s a weird part: I wish I had seen him fully erect. And even stranger, there’s a part of me that tries to imagine what his asshole looks like. I would like to have seen him facing away from me with his anus exposed.
I had to tell my husband. We’ve never kept secrets from each other in our 30 years together, so I wasn’t going to start now. When I told him, I was thinking he’d blame me, or basically accuse me of some sort of reprehensible behavior. He surprised me with a big smile and said he’s going to book the same place next year. Then, he went to the kitchen, came back with a jar of coconut butter, and offered to reenact the whole scene. I accepted his invitation.