By Heather Towne


When my boyfriend Donny broke his leg tube-tobogganing with a bunch of his drunken buddies two days before we were scheduled to jet off to Australia for Christmas vacation, I was thoroughly pissed. I thought about canceling the trip, staying home on the farm outside snowy Grand Prairie, Alberta. But since the hotel reservation was non-refundable and the local seven-day forecast called for bitter cold followed by brutal cold, I didn’t think about it for too long. I kissed Donny and his cast goodbye and waded through the snowdrifts to my waiting taxi.

            Living in the rural area with my parents, the farthest I’d ever been away from home before was Edmonton, for a family funeral. The down-under wonder trip represented my first chance to get out on my own, spread my wings, expand my horizons, see new things, and meet new people before my twenty-first birthday. Being a country girl, I’d toppled a few cows and flashed a few truck drivers in my time, but that’s about as wild as it’d ever gotten for me.

            It was -30 C when I stepped on the plane in Edmonton, + 30 C when I skipped off in Sydney. I dashed out of the airport and into Old Sol’s smiling embrace, hurling my toque in the air like a sun-struck Mary Tyler Moore.

            Sydney was spectacular; the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, and The Rocks, not to mention the hot golden-sand beaches and warm crystal-clear ocean. I got all the formal touristy things out of the way early so I could post some images on Facebook for my parents and Donny. Then I tied on a string bikini and spent the rest of my time at the beach, pale winter homebody browning ripe and juicy under the blazing sun.

            Usually after a tough day at the beach, I’d catch a quick catnap in my hotel room before going out to dinner and enjoying the Sydney nightlife. But when I’d spent one particular eye-opening afternoon basking on Cobbler’s Beach, a nude beach, I found myself fired up by more than hot sun and twinkling seascape.

            When I returned back to my tenth floor hotel room that afternoon, I sat on the edge of my bed, glowing. My mind floated back to one particularly good-looking couple I’d scoped; a rugged, blond All-Australian hunk and his big-boobed, sandy-haired girlfriend. They’d been frolicking surfside, naked-as-you-please, hard bodies gleaming bronze, soft body parts jiggling and bobbing delightfully.

            I slid off the bed and stood in front of the mirror on the wall, hands dangling at my sides like a sexual gunslinger, itching for some action. I was wearing just a white ‘Aussie Rules’ t-shirt and pale blue shorty-shorts. I stared at myself, nipples hardening and pussy dampening, as I pictured the blond beach couple (Guy and Kylie, as I’d named them) coming together in the water, their nude, sun-browned bodies melding together, lips meeting in a lovers embrace.

            Guy crushed Kylie against his muscled chest, his big hands splaying over her arched back, down her back, and onto her plush, rounded bottom. He gripped and squeezed her taut, golden butt cheeks, Kylie moaning in his mouth, their pink tongues flashing together in the brilliant sunshine.

            We had the glittering beach all to ourselves, Guy and Kylie in the surging water, kissing and frenching and fondling, me on-shore, stripping away my bikini, flashing the lovers and the continent. They glanced at me, their eyes shining, appraising my bared body and nodding their approval. Then Kylie tilted her head back, blond hair streaming, and Guy attacked her throat, kissing and licking the soft, vulnerable skin, biting gently.

            I gasped as Kylie gasped, staring at my wicked reflection, my shirt and shorts somehow puddled at my feet. I lifted my hands, fingers trembling, and cupped my naked breasts. “Ummm” I groaned, squeezing the electrified, handful mounds, sending a current sparking all through me.

            I shook out my long, black tresses and kneaded my tan-lined boobs, pink nipples jutting rigid, sniffing the salty air, buzzing with anticipation. The Aussies were kissing each other again, Guy’s strong hands plying Kylie’s plump buttocks, Kylie grabbing Guy’s head and savaging his mouth.

            I inched twitching fingers up to my nipples, my whole body shaking, heavy with erotic heat. And then … rain hissed down. 

            I was standing in front of the open sliding door that led out to the balcony, just a thin, gauze curtain separating me from the outside world, and I briefly watched the raindrops peck into the green indoor-outdoor carpeting. But I wasn’t about to let a little rain ruin my illusion; I incorporated it into my fantasy.

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