So there I was......
Laying on the beach in Magaluf. I hate sunbathing. For me, it usually involves a mild feeling of embarrassment about my flaccid man boobs where onc my pecs resided, then a stark realisation five minutes later that I had gone tomato red despite factor 50 sunblock, and then several hours trying to remain in the shade. But, despite my ex's yearly promise that we would 'do stuff' on holiday this year rather than just the beach-apartment-club drudgery that we always did, it was week two of our holiday and we'd yet to make it past the beach.

So there we were, her laying silent and glistening, covered in sun oil, me sitting under a parasol, the only person on the entire beach wearing a t-shirt, reading a book about world war one and generally not fitting in as usual.

There's something about topless women on a beach that I find completely unsexy. I'm sure I can't be alone here, there's just a weirdness to it that renders even the most stonking pair of norks uninteresting when displayed publicly, but despite this I had, through boredom, began allowing my eye to wander. Shades are fantastic for a bit of beach ogling, and so long as you remember to hold your book the correct way up, no-one need know you're staring at them as they lay there, tits in their armpits, baking themselves to a crisp.

And then she arrived. They stopped at the sunbeds directly in front of ours and dropped their beach towels, this knuckle dragging neanderthal and his stunningly beautiful girlfriend. She had long, curly black hair and was simply breathtaking. I sat there motionless, my shades hiding my intensely gawping eyes, as she began stripping away her layers. It was like getting a free lapdance from someone who didn't look like a hollyoaks extra. She was amazing! As she slipped off her sarong I couldn't tear my gaze away, my book was shaking as she slipped off her flip-flops, and then her hands slid up her gorgeously toned midriff to the bottom of her crop top. Time seemed to pass in slow motion as she pulled it higher up her perfect body, my book almost dropped from my hands as she pulled it up to reveal her gorgeous charms...... and then it did drop from my hands as a nanosecond later, my eye was drawn from these magnificent norks to the hairiest ladypits I've ever clapped eyes on. It looked like she was smuggling two of Elton John's best wigs beneath har arms.

She looked at me briefly as I scrambled in the sand for my book, a little smile on her lips as she realised she'd had an audience. It was one of those moments where you catch yourself thinking something that reveals your innermost psyche. And what was I thinking? "I wish my missus looked like her"? "I think she caught me staring"? "I want to bone her senseless"?

No.

"She must be French."

Turns out I'm a bit racist.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:32, 5 replies)

Actual lol
Nice...
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:36, closed)

Great post!
love it, mate!
( SpankyHanky, Thu 28 May 2009, 16:54, closed)

Cheers all :D
It was off putting, and yet a bit phwooooar at the same time :P
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 28 May 2009, 21:50, closed)

Hahahahaha!
Top stuff!
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Sat 30 May 2009, 7:14, closed)