As the winter has dragged on interminably and the daily temperatures have struggled recently to make it above 0℃, my thoughts have been turning to warmer, sunnier climes.
I love feeling the heat of the summer’s sun on my body. As a child, and until she passed away a little over ten years ago, a large part of my summer’s were spent with my cousins at my Nonna Serena’s villa in the outskirts of San Cataldo in the heel of Italy. When the cold Scottish winters bite, I often dream that I’m back there, lying about in the sun, walking in the shade of the market stalls or swimming naked in the clear blue Adriatic sea.
I love feeling the warmth of the sun all over my body as its heat sinks into my skin. I love the comfort of being naked in the heat of the sun, with the gentle breeze from the sea keeping me cool. I love to have the water lap against me, the ripples stimulating my nipples and labia as I swim.
Even when circumstances dictate that need to be more modestly attired, there is, however, one item of clothing whose services I am willing to dispense with when the temperature soars, and that is my knickers.
Now, some would say I’m willing to dispense with them pretty much any time, and that is, of course, very true. When the sun beats down, however, going “commando” beneath a light summer skirt or dress is a simple pleasure that I will avail myself of at every opportunity. There’s something about the feeling that I find delightfully refreshing, and it’s so much more comfortable too.
And while I’m sitting there in a café or bar, demurely sipping an espresso, it gives me so many opportunities to surreptitiously flash my cunt at any good looking guy who takes my fancy, and of coarse, earn myself a thrashing from Master C‘s belt for being such a shameless, cock-teasing slut.