Holiday romance

I decided to go on my first solo holiday. I wanted some proper peace and quiet, and then to explore somewhere new, so booked to go to an island in Croatia, and then visit Split.

The village I went to on the island was so quiet. You could easily find pebble beaches to yourself, bliss. I kept going to one restaurant, the food was great, it was next to my accommodation and to be honest, I hadn’t found anywhere else. So inevitable I became a familiar face over the time I was there.

There was a waiter… (Obviously, they tend to be fairly standard in most restaurants). He was very chatty. I would sit and read, and he’d ask what I was reading. One book, John Niven’s The Sunshine Cruise Company was a modern day Thelma and Louise, he laughed when I said it was about a couple of ladies in their 60s. He took the book off me and read the back cover, it mentioned swingers, he said this was the best bit and when he was in London there was a great swingers club near where he lived. I asked if it was any good, to which he smirked and zipped his lips. It felt like we were flirting, but I couldn’t tell if he was just being nice to the English girl who was on her own, and I noticed he was chatty with everyone. I didn’t want to let my imagination get the better of me. But there was something about him that made me smile when I saw him.


I decided to get a take out pizza one evening and eat it down on the beach for a change of scenery. When I went in to order, he said “isn’t it lonely eating this in your hotel”, so I told him my plan. He said “Ok, see you there in half an hour!”

I had no idea if he actually meant this, or was joking. And until that point, I’d made a Tinder date with someone to come from another village to go for a drink. I took a chance, cancelled my “date” and waited on the beach. I sat there after I’d finished eating thinking what a moron for assuming he’d come, but then he appeared…. I still wasn’t sure if it was out of tour guide friendliness or a little more, but I’m pretty sure I was beaming (thank goodness it was dark).

He stood chatting to me for a few minutes before sitting down and asking for a cigarette (a bad habit I slipped back into whilst away). For some reason I mentioned how I’d sun burnt the top of one of my arms, he said I needed someone to massage it for me (still unsure if this was a come on or not). We heard some people making a raucous over the football, I said it was either that or really loud sex, to which he scoffed “they make me jealous”. I ended up moaning about the sunburn again and he said, “Ok, that’s it, you need a massage”, stood up and offered me his hand. I asked where we were going and he said “my place”. Clearly we were on the same page the whole time, but I was just in doubt the entire time.

We trundled off along the coastal path, and at some point in response to something he said, “My girlfriend won’t be happy”. I laughed, assumed he was joking and said as much to him. He said he wasn’t. I didn’t quite know what to do now. Normally I’d walk away, but there was something about him. That he wanted me. I know it’s awful and goes entirely against my ethos, but I kept walking.

We got back to his place and he offered me a drink, but we soon started kissing and that fell by the way side. We were both naked within mere moments and I had his dick in my mouth. We went upstairs and had incredible sex. He was much older than me (20 years), but obviously very experienced and knew how to satisfy a woman. He asked what I liked, was amazing at oral and then after we fucked he asked if I liked anal… as I do, we finished with that.
Afterwards we resumed the drink we hadn’t had. I asked him about his girlfriend; he’d been with her for many years, cheated once before, but not for a long time. She lived away on the main island. I asked why he wanted to sleep with someone else, he said he hadn’t, but had felt something when talking to me. I can’t say I’m happy to have slept with someone in a relationship, I’m certainly not proud of it, but I knew I’d never see him again, I wouldn’t be exchanging numbers with him, I hadn’t known he was involved with someone when I began flirting, and it was his choice to take me to bed. I could have walked away, and part of me knows that obviously would have been the right thing to do, but it’s his relationship, not mine. I’d never knowingly go after someone who was involved.

We talked about a lot of things, his life, my marriage, sex… It was one of those evenings when you just talk all night about everything; he was an extremely interesting man who’d led a pretty different life to me. We had sex again; it was really passionate and intense. He knew this time I liked it quite rough so told me not to hold back, I hit him, he said harder, so I slapped him square across the face with as much force as I could muster, “not that hard” was the response the second time (oops). We held each other afterwards for a little while, which was nice.

I decided to leave afterwards, as it’s such a small village I didn’t want anyone to see me….

I saw him again the following day back at the restaurant (I’m telling you, there really was nowhere else to go). I was a little nervous in case it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. He asked if I had got back ok, and continuing talking to me as we had the previous night. It was rather busy, so when I paid, I slipped out, I thought best to leave it as it was, as an incredible night in a foreign country.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *