Greece For My 40th: Alone. Topless Beaches. Tight Pink Thong.

I’m going to be 40 soon. XXX tourism?

I’ve decided to do something bold for my 40th birthday. I’m going to Greece — all alone — where the sun worships curves like mine. I’ll be on the topless beaches, wearing nothing but a very tight pink thong, my body slicked in baby oil so I glisten like a dream under the Mediterranean sun. Every muscle, every line, every inch — perfection reborn.

I’m training for bikini pageants again. My body is already sculpting into that perfect tease of strength and softness, the kind you can’t help but stare at, jaw slack and thirsty. And oh, you’ll notice me — because I’ll be walking those beaches slow, heels in hand, hips swaying like I own the place.

At night, I’ll slip into tight dresses with no panties underneath, dresses that hug every curve, clinging to the way I move. I’ll wear sky-high heels that make me taller, sharper — an untouchable goddess with golden, sun-kissed skin and hair cascading like temptation.

I’ll go to the bars, lock eyes with strangers, let my lips brush theirs while my fingers drift… just there. A brief grope that leaves them breathless and harder than they’ve ever been — then I’ll whisper hypnotic words they’ll hear over and over in their minds, long after I’ve disappeared into the crowd. No number. No promise. Nothing but the heat I leave behind.

Because in Greece, under that relentless sun, I’ll be so fucking hot and wet all the time. My body, my mind, my energy — radiating an ache that others will feel but never fulfill.

Forty, you say? No, darling. This is my prime.

So what about you? How are you holding up during the Holidays?

Doc