Barb squeezed my hand as the plane touched down in France. She isn’t crazy about flying, so we typically taking driving vacations whenever we can. It means we spend a few extra hours in the car, but have learned that if we relax and enjoy the journey instead of worrying whether we’re making good time then the drive can be just as enjoyable as the destination. We like to think of ourselves as kinky road warriors.
Our destination for this trip was Cap d’Agde, sometimes called “Naked City”, an all nude village in the South of France. Before it transformed itself into a significant naturist location with first rate hotels, restaurants and shops, Naked City was a sleepy little sea side village with small cottages that were empty most of the year. We are avid nudists who dream of visiting naturist locations all around the world. Other than Jamaica, this was our first nude location outside of the United States and we were thrilled to be here to attend the wedding of Barb’s college roommate.
After we checked into the resort and ditched our clothes, we headed out to see some of the sights before meeting the wedding party at the beach. We were pleased to discover the village was alive with colorful banners, music, and small booths offering food, drink and unusual crafts. Barb was thrilled to find an ankle bracelet made of tiny rose crystals. It was the only thing adorning her hourglass figure. We sipped glasses of champagne, munched on truffles, and listened to a string quartet playing Mozart while people watching. Many of the nudists we saw were covered in body paint that imitated the costumes of mythic characters.
As enticing as the street festival was for us, the beach was calling. A nude beach is much like any other beach except for the lack of bathing suits. Nude sunbathers are a cross-section of society, with representatives from many nations, age groups, and body types. Generally, folks at Naked City seemed to be younger and in better shape than some of the other beaches we frequent.
We found our group roasting away in a quiet part of the beach at the foot of tall cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. I was torn between the bluest water I’d ever seen and some of the most beautiful oiled flesh I’d ever laid my eyes upon. It was a beautiful location filled with beautiful people and I was content to be in my element.
The first time I stepped onto a nude beach filled with other like minded people was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. It’s about freedom. It’s about connecting to our true nature. It’s about the simple pleasure of feeling sun on skin. It’s about revealing ourselves to others without costumes to prop up our fragile egos. It’s about seeing another just as they came into this world, naked and real. We don’t realize how much we rely on clothing and accessories to create a false identity. At first glance, we size people up based upon an image that they created and which isn’t real. These false images shapes our attitude toward them going forward, but thankfully, all of that nonsense disappears on a nude beach.
As I was admiring the Mediterranean Sea, I heard a squeal and returned my attention to the naked flesh roasting in the sun. I saw a dark skinned, brown eyed, big haired young woman with a flat chest, strait boyish hips and pubic hair trimmed to a faint hint of a landing strip fly toward us. When she reached us, she jumped straight into Barb’s arms, while wrapping her legs tightly around her tiny waist. Without a word she planted a kiss on Barb’s lips that quickly grew into a sexy tongue dance.
In contrast to the tiny little thing coiled around her, Barb is a blue-eyed blond with classic Nordic good looks. She’s on the tall side at 5’9″, sporting big boobs, a tiny waist and a tight round ass you could use to bounce coins for your favorite drinking game.
“God, I’ve missed you, Wendy,” gasped Barb after they broke the kiss.
Wendy tucked a lock of golden hair behind Barb’s ear and said, “I’m so glad you came.”
She gave her a final squeeze and then dropped to the ground. Wendy then turned to me and when I saw her hand move in my direction I thought she intended to introduce herself with a handshake, so I stuck my hand out, which she ignored and grabbed my junk instead.
“And you must be Kenny,” said Wendy. “I’ve heard so much about this big cock of yours. Come meet my fiancé, George, and the rest of the wedding party.”
George was 6’4″ and packed with hard muscle. Thanks to a sweet, almost shy smile, you’d never guess he was an All Pro NFL linebacker. I had seen clits bigger than his tiny dick and couldn’t help but wonder if he might be a grower rather than a shower. Like Wendy, he reached for my cock in lieu of a handshake.
“I’ve heard all about you, Kenny,” said George. “Is it true you can fuck for hours without blowing your load?”
I tried my best to fake modesty, but the smile I was feeling wouldn’t stay hidden inside, and so I answered, “You can’t believe half the stuff Barb says about me, but that one is true.”
Barb chimed in with, “I love this man so much it’s possible I’m prone to exaggeration when I sing his praises.”
“You’re a lucky girl,” said George.
“I’m the lucky one,” I said.
“We are all blessed,” said Wendy. “George, don’t hog Barb and Kenny. Let everyone else get a chance to meet them.”
The other four members of the wedding party greeted us with hugs and smiles. The maid of honor was Wendy’s childhood friend, Lisa. She was average height with short strawberry blond hair that matched top and bottom, round hips and breasts beginning to swell from pregnancy. Based on the size of her baby bump, I guessed her to be about four months into her mommy journey. There is something about the hormones of a pregnant woman that radiates good health and makes them sexy as hell. Maybe it’s the weird diet…things like combining dill pickles and pistachio ice cream. Hell if I know.
Lisa’s baby daddy, Jeff, was 5’10’, slim, sported a Hollywood square jaw, with piercing blue eyes, and a military style buzz cut. His pubes were shaved, balls huge, and after he hugged Barb his hard cock stood at attention, vertical to his washboard abs.
The best man was George’s team mate, Frank. He is a massive left tackle the size of a mini-van with a heart to match. His head was shaved, arms covered in ink, and he had a cock that hung halfway to his knees. Frank is one of those people who have never met an enemy, unless you want to count the other team, and that’s only for the length of Sunday’s game. After the game they might as well be his long lost brothers, considering how much back slapping and hugging that goes on between them.
Frank’s plus one was Tamiko, a lovely Asian femboy with a soft face, dominated by big eyes and lips painted fire engine red. She had no body hair other than her head, where black hair fell straight unto her shoulders, leading the eye down to a flat chest highlighted by puffy brown nipples. I’ve seen pussy lips twice the size of the tiny ball sack tucked between her slim runner’s legs and her soft dick wasn’t much bigger than Barb’s fat clit. I felt my cock twinge as I imagined burying my cock in her tight little butt and those long nails, painted black, digging into my own ass. When she spoke to say hello, I expected an Asian accent, but her soft breathy voice sounded Midwestern, maybe Michigan.
The wedding party had set up camp with a large open tent the same color as the pink panther which provided refuge when needed from the hot sun. Within its protective cover were several coolers filled with bottles of chilled champagne, Budweiser, hard cider, soft drinks, and bottled water. Other than the coolers and a few beach bags, the tent was empty. Everyone chose instead to sit in a circle, drink and get to know one another.
Barb and I are avid story tellers and like to think of ourselves as verbal exhibitionist. Listening to someone’s story is a little like being a voyeur taking a peek through their bedroom window. It’s a great way to loosen up and get to know a person. In our experience the more honest we are with other people about our inner freak, the more we realize how much we have in common. It’s hard to be embarrassed about your kinky side when you realize others think, feel, and behave much the same behind closed doors. Dark secrets separate and keep us apart. An honest telling brings the like-minded together as one. In this instance, story hour began with an ordinary request from Barb for the bride and groom to tell us how they met.
Wendy winked at George and said, “Why don’t you tell it, babe.”
“Well, let’s see,” said George with a big smile. “That night I had a Tinder date with this insanely hot red head. Based on our messages, there wasn’t much doubt that we’d have sex, but to be on the safe side, she wanted our first meet to be in a public place. So, I met her at a college bar for a drink. It was still early and a local band was doing sound checks in the front room, so we worked our way to the back bar where they have a pool table set up. We found a couple of stools at the end of the bar and chatted while we waited on our drinks. My date was wearing a shamrock green dress cut low in the front and every time she leaned forward to say something to me I got a peek at her nipples. I’m a nudist and have seen more breasts than I can count, but there’s something about an illicit nipple peek that gets me rock hard.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jeff. “Nothing turns a nudist on more than a beautiful woman covering herself up.”
“It’s all about the mystery,” said Lisa as she closed her legs demurely.
“Exactly,” said George. “My date sat on the stool with her legs crossed and pulled her soft cotton dress down to cover most of her thighs. It was driving me crazy. So, I leaned in and caressed her bare knees. It was just what was needed to persuade her to uncross her legs and open those thighs enough to get a hand inside. I completely forgot we were in a public place and was thrilled to discover she wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was dripping wet and when I touched her, she moaned, leaned in and kissed me. I was lost in lust when I heard the sound of a chair scrapping the floor. We broke the kiss and looked over to see the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on staring directly at us. When I managed to break eye contact, I noticed her legs were parted and I could see all the way up her Daisy Dukes.”
“That would be me,” said Wendy. “I was there with a couple of friends shooting pool when I caught sight of this hunk fingering some poor innocent thing at the bar. I wanted in on the action.”
“Innocent!” George exclaimed. “That girl had so many orgasms I was afraid she was going to hurt herself.”
“Yea, she was insatiable,” said Wendy with a wistful expression.
“Innocent my ass,” repeated George with a shake of the head.
“Finish the story, Babe,” reminded Wendy.
“The nearest bed belonged to one of her friends,” said George. “The five of us went back to her place and the girls gangbanged me.”
“He didn’t stand a chance,” said Wendy.
“Not with this one,” said George. “I haven’t left her side since.”
“To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, till death do us part,” said Wendy with a big grin.
It was such a steamy story we all began sharing our own. It was great fun and one hell of a turn on, but the flight, sun and alcohol were all working against me, so I excused myself to take a much needed nap back at the hotel.
I don’t know how long I slept, but I awoke with a raging boner that demanded attention. Self-pleasure is our greatest gift. It takes care of an immediate need when no one else is available to assist and it hurts no one. For me, it’s not really about the orgasm. I love the feel of a hard cock in my hand. It’s comforting and when I pay close attention, I can feel a pulse, signaling life and the promise of pleasure.
Fantasy plays such a huge role in masturbation. A lover once told me that she fantasized for years about having sex with her best friend when she masturbated, but when it actually happened, she was a little disappointed. With a sad little smile she told me that her fantasy was better than her reality. While that is often true, I don’t believe it has to be that way, and as I lay there in the twilight with my hand wrapped around my cock, I was having a very hot fantasy about the wedding party that had me extremely turned on.
Just as I was getting to the good part in the fantasy, the door to the room opened. I didn’t open my eyes because I figured it was Barb and didn’t want to lose the story thread. I knew she would enjoy hearing me whisper the details of my fantasy while we gave each other pleasure. I was looking forward to hot sex with this incredibly beautiful woman, but when she didn’t slip into bed with me I took a peek to see what was up.
Wendy, not Barb, was standing at the foot of the bed. She mumbled something about grabbing a wrap for Barb because it was getting cool outside, but her eyes were locked on the tented sheet that did little to hide my erection. It was clear she wanted to have a peek underneath and since my relationship with Barb is open, I decided to act on it.
“Come here,” I coaxed. “Let me show you something.”
She shook her head and said shyly, “What is it Daddy?”
Her incest role play surprised me. Wendy was Barb’s age and about to be married. Still, in the fading light she looked much younger than her early thirties. My cock twitched and I decided to play along with her little game.
“I can’t tell you,” I said softly. “You have to come closer if you want to see it. Come here, little girl. Do as Daddy says and come closer.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said as she crawled across the bed.
I pulled the sheet aside and asked softy, “Have you seen one of these before?”
Wendy shook her head and answered, “No, Daddy. It’s so big. What is it?”
“It’s my penis,” I answered. “Would you like to touch it?”
Wendy nodded and then reached out with a tentative hand, touching the head with her finger tip.
“It looks angry, but feels so soft,” she whispered. “Are you angry with me?”
“No, I’m not angry with you,” I answered. “I think you’re very pretty and I’m turned on.”
“You think I’m pretty?” she asked shyly.
I nodded. “Do you want to kiss it?”
Her eyes got a little bigger as she asked, “Can I?”
“Yes, Baby,” I whispered. “Go ahead. Give it a try. You’ll like it. I promise.”
Without a word she leaned in and brushed the tip with a light kiss.
“Open your mouth,” I instructed.
She did has she was told, but stuck to her role as an innocent and waited for further instructions.
“Lick the bottom of the head with the flat of your tongue,” I ordered.
She complied.
“Now, suck gently like you would for a cherry flavored tootsie roll pop,” I said.
With a hunger that surprised me, she abandoned the pretext of inexperience, first sucking the head gently before taking the entire nine inches of hard cock down her throat. After a few minutes of displaying her oral skills, she threw a leg over my lap and guided me slowly into her soaking wet pussy. Once she had every inch of it inside she begin rocking back and forth, dragging her clit across my pubic bone. At first she moved slowly, savoring the feel of it, but as her pleasure grew, her speed picked up and her strokes shortened. Faster and faster she moved, her breath quickening, until she came with a cry, squirting her pleasure into my lap.
As she was catching her breath, the door opened, Tamiko stuck her head inside, took one look at us, and then called out to the others, “Hurry up, they’ve started without us.”
Suddenly our king sized bed seemed tiny and crowded, but in a good way. Tamiko wasted no time and sat squarely on my face, offering her tiny balls and dick to me. Facing Wendy in reverse cowgirl, she let her hands roam freely, pinching nipples, and squeezing buttocks. Wendy responded by sucking gently on Tamiko’s lower lip until Frank distracted them both by dangling his massive cock within inches of their lips. The girls wasted no time alternating between his hairy balls and a pink head as big as a lemon.
Barb was busy rubbing Lisa’s baby bump like Aladdin’s lamp with one hand, while the other worked the expecting mother’s clit. Lisa had a handful of bedding in one hand and George’s 5″ stiffy in the other as she moaned her way into one quick orgasm after another. Meanwhile, her baby daddy, Jeff, had his tongue up Barb’s ass while stroking his own cock.
When Wendy slid off of my dick and offered her behind to Frank, Tamiko moved down to take her place. I moaned with pleasure as she impaled herself on my cock. I reached out to fondle her balls. Her response was to squeeze my cock with her tight little ass and pulse her prostate for all she was worth. Her unabashed lust and the sights and sounds of group sex fueled my own passion.
For me, an orgy is more than just a pile of bodies engaged in sex. One of life’s greatest joys is the freedom to express our love in the manner we choose without fear of judgment. We aren’t meant to be monogamous. We have the libido and the emotional capacity to love more than one. Polyamory is our natural state. Its practice weaves us together in an all-embracing Tantra of the Oneness of Life.
As I lay there in the middle of these beautiful people, I couldn’t help but feel a deep and abiding gratitude. I was in the South of France with open-minded friends. I was in my element and the evening held great promise. I expected we would spend most of the night exploring each other’s capacity for love and pleasure at an all-inclusive wedding party.
~ HungDaddi