It wasn't that Mitchell wasn't a nice guy; frankly it was just that he was too nice, and without any character that would make him either intellectual...y or sexually appealing to Lucia. Coupled with his bland personality, his physique did nothing for her either; to Lucia's sardonic eye, his narrow and emaciated frame promising only a night of awkward and uncomfortable sex, bereft of any hint of excitement or pleasure.Now they were headed out to dinner, a prospect that filled Lucia with a mixture. The soft, almost silky, short-sleeved, white cotton shirtfelt nice under the rougher corduroy of the shortalls. No, not a shirt.Aunt Joan had said it was called a ... blouse. I touched the plastic,flower-shaped buttons running down the front. It had been a little funnydoing them up on the wrong side, but it wasn't really all that hard. Icouldn't remember if girls did them all the way up, but decided to leavethem, since I liked the way the blouse looked with all the buttonsclosed.I sorta. To discover the passion held by the person they shared their desires.One of his hands had reached around and cupped her butt as the other pressed on her lips and inner thigh.He pulled his lips from hers at the same time he moved his hands and once again gripped her outer thighs. Breathlessly they looked into their lover's eyes. He saw the deep fire in her eyes. The same fire he described in the story he told her the previous night. The same fire he knew shone in his. The fire that made him. After she left I grabbed her panties to sniff and wank with, something I've done in the 15 years since that first time.In those years Marie had married a man who was career obsessed and although he treated her well, I never felt she was truly happy. I had my own share of relationship which went belly up for various reasons. One of these had introduced me to the joys of nude beaches and I've loved them ever since, enjoying the joys whenever I get the chance which isn't easy in a typical British.