These are true stories, and the Scenic Motel was a real place with that name, not disguised for the benefit of the few readers who may recognize the free-wheeling sexual setting of thirty years ago. Maybe one or two of them could vouch for us in the comments that our recollections aren’t made-up fantasies, this craziness was the way things rolled at the Scenic.
Other names and some insignificant identifying details are altered for the usual reasons.
Enjoy.
———-
While Cindy and I belonged to the same community theater troupe, we remained strangers for nearly four years, exchanging furtive glances in our suppressed attractions to each other. She was married and I didn’t mess with that, and I was still licking my wounds, recovering from a sham marriage that ended badly. Cindy and I never said more than “Hello” when I might have held a door for her. It also didn’t help she had a hanger-on that basically didn’t let her out of his sight while he ran interference, a rebound friend after she had divorced, as I later discover.
One performance, while we were in the wings waiting for our respective cues, we made a little small talk, more or less introducing ourselves. To our mutual amazement we revealed that both of us were California expatriates 3000 miles from home. We quickly connected about common interests and places, and in our reminiscing nearly missed our stage entrances, “We’ll talk afterwards!”
We talked afterwards. Equally surprising to both of us was that we were each unattached at the moment. We immediately made a date for the next Saturday, a very special date. You see, one of the common interests from our California roots was a love of beaches, especially nudist beaches. The sun, wind and sea mist washing all over our bodies: heaven! Our date was set to be at the nearby nudist resort. Maybe not the Pacific Ocean, but close enough for our purposes.
Cindy was and is a beautiful “TSB”: tall, skinny blonde. I didn’t know how breathtaking her body was until that Saturday. Normally she dressed in loose clothes to deemphasize her assets, she later tells me it was a defense against being constantly “hit on” by way too many guys. Understandable! Under all the fabric were modest, pert breasts, a jaw-dropping figure with curves in exactly the right spots, and firm, rounded ass cheeks to die for. Her Scandinavian heritage wears on her very well. When she shed her clothes after we parked I was awestruck and rendered speechless. She reminds me that she had the same impression of me, “Ohgod, I wanted to jump your bones right then and there!”
But that wasn’t going to happen, I was too much of a gentleman. This was our first date, after all. We hiked in the woods, played a little ping-pong and just had a great day becoming acquainted as friends, we just happened to be naked, as God intended. As an experienced nudist I had the ability to keep the erection gods under control. She tells me now, “But barely. It was drooling.”
I don’t even recall kissing her good night when I took her home. But we made plans for the next Saturday to spend more time together.
———-
Our second date was more conventional, mostly. We went for a road trip to a touristy restaurant a couple of hours out of town for a relaxed time away. Cruising around afterwards in the hills seeing the sights, oh no, a flat tire, and on a twisty mountain highway to boot. Damn the luck! We round a bend and fortunately are able to duck into a driveway apron and off the highway. I gather the tools and the donut spare and start to work.
“Scenic Motel” was the sign at the drive entrance. I glance up the hill and it seems to be a dowdy, old-school tourist motel. I ask Cindy to hike up the hill to the motel office to see if they have a phone book to locate the nearest tire shop, the donut spare would not be safe for the freeway drive home. She comes back with tire info in hand, but a silly grin on her face, “You won’t believe this, but there was a hot tub next to the office with a bunch of naked people in it. And porn on a TV.” I read the sign again, “Scenic Adult Motel.” Oh my gosh, we stumbled into a swinger hotel.
This was not something I had firsthand experience with. However, the chat on the way home revealed that Cindy and her first husband dabbled in free sex and wife swapping, but she was mostly over that because she became second fiddle to his mistress and his bisexuality. It was an interesting conversation nonetheless, an introduction to a lifestyle I knew little to nothing about other than reading the fantasy talk in Playboy.
Off the mountain, we find the tire shop and they mount a new tire for the trip home. On the drive back, once we were past the chuckles and grins about the hotel discovery, the slight downer of the “failed relationship” conversation knocked most of the wind out of our sails that evening. We may have exchanged a light peck when I dropped her off. But we made another date, as it was clear we were hooked.
———–
Third and subsequent dates were mostly “normal” for a developing relationship ‘cept for the outings to the nudist park. About the fourth or fifth date we consummated our affections for each other. After that point we would punctuate our walks in the woods at the nudist park with a very satisfying fuck or two. Or three. We had fun, more sexy fun than a lot of couples could have at our then young ages because spontaneity was the order of the day. Cindy had informed me on our “first time” that her tubes were tied, and there were to be no children, not now, not ever. Fine with me, children weren’t on my agenda, either. Screw any time, any where. What’s not to like?
Our lovers’ chatter frequently turned to the Scenic Motel, usually for a good laugh. However, after a few months as a couple I finally “went there” and proposed that we might try it out, maybe she could teach me something, sort of “busting my cherry” on my naïveté. Game on, we pencil it in.
It was a Friday night, we check in, and are asked “downstairs or up?” Being our first time, I ask, “What’s the difference?” “Downstairs opens into a playroom.” Not yet understanding the distinction, I choose downstairs, get the key, then find our room and set down our gear. The playroom was nothing special, just a few chairs scattered about and a small pool table towards one end; a modest common area at best.
“You up for the hot tub?” I ask Cindy. “Sure.” We undress, wrap ourselves with towels since the hot tub access is viewable from the highway, and lower ourselves into the people soup. A little chit-chat with the two other couples in the tub, with light touching and rubbing of bodies between naked strangers. Nothing overt, just “hello!” testing of waters, similar to our experiences in the spa tub at the nudist park. Nobody flinches, so everything’s cool; well, as cool as things can get in a vat full of 110° water. “We’re having a little private party in room 202 in an hour if you’re interested. Door will be unlocked,” a cute twenty-something girl offers. A nude cute twenty-something girl. “Thanks. We might drop by,” I respond.
Might? Oh, yeah.
Needing a cool-off from the tub, Cindy and I gather our towels and retreat to our room. We avail ourselves of the pool table in the playroom, so we put on just enough to be covered and play a round of 9-ball. There is a couple and a middle-aged single guy seated nearby, I think nothing of it, still not understanding why the clerk made the distinction about the room.
“Interested?” I ask Cindy about the ‘party’. “Dunno. Are you?” “Worth a looksee,” I confirm. So we undress, gather our wraps, and head upstairs.
Open the door to find two — or was it three? — fully-nude couples on the king-size bed in various positions of sexual exchange. All appeared to be in their 20s or early 30s and in reasonable shape, so even ignoring the activities it would still be pleasant viewing. The cute girl from the hot tub was sucking on a guy as he was fingering her, she pauses for a moment to look up and say “Hi! Find a spot!” It was hard not to be hard, so when in Rome…
We drop our towels and wedge in as the mass of bodies adjust barely enough for us to lay or sit. Cute girl made just enough space for to me lay next to her, and Cindy barely finds a hole next to the guy cute girl was working on. Before you know it, cute girl had turned my direction, firmly instructing, “Fuck me.” OK, will do. No fooling around with our fooling around, that’s for sure. I gingerly push my cock into her well-moistened pussy, finding it a very comfortable home, slowly and deliberately savoring what was offered.
While this was happening, Cindy found a friend in the fellow cute girl was blowing prior to screwing me, and they were fucking very nicely, just inches away. I didn’t notice what he was bringing to the show, but Cindy was clearly enjoying what was there, and I was really enjoying her enjoying it, if you know what I mean. Cindy and I glanced at each other, smiled, and repositioned just enough to share a very long, impassioned kiss… while we were fucking other people. We exchanged “I love you!” in the realization that we were in it for the long haul. Each of us were gently thrusting and seriously enjoying the pleasures of coitus with strangers and wishing it wouldn’t stop…
…”BANG!” the door flies open, and the single guy from the playroom bursts in, clearly not invited. It turns out the “playroom” was the meeting area where there was expectation that exchange plans were to be made. If you were sitting in there or your room door was open, you were to be invited to fuck.
No sirree, Bob. This is not your party. “Get OUT!” I commanded, withdrawing my cock (dammit!) from cute girl’s pussy and jumping up to shove the door shut, him with it. After a couple of minutes he gave up since I had locked the door. I used the break to stand outside to cool off from the heat of all those writhing bodies and all that insane, intense sex. Cute girl joined me at the balcony rail, also taking a breather. We didn’t bother to grab a towel or cover, so if anybody saw us from the highway, screw ’em, that’s their problem. Enjoy the show. I gave thought to easing my cock back into cute girl from behind as she leaned on the railing, but I was a bit out of steam at that point and let well enough alone.
Cindy was still inside screwing her guy-of-the-moment, though thinking back she may have been with a second guy I noticed with a fairly big cock who was paying attention to her before the rude interruption. No matter. When cute girl and I came back inside, Cindy disconnected from guy #2 and rose from the bed to hug and fondle me, and cute girl directed us into the anteroom with a small spa tub. The two of them lowered into the tub while I sat on the rim, and cute girl reached behind the tub to find one of those two-foot-long “double dong” dildos, purple with glitter, if I remember correctly. Obviously still wet from our activity, she easily pushes about a third of it into her cunt, and invites Cindy to avail herself of the other end. Girl-on-girl stuff was something I had only read about in the men’s magazines, doubting it could happen in real life. Surprise!
Cindy gives it a try, “What the hell, why not?” being her reaction while she guided it in, only slightly less lubed. From my perspective was it was interesting to watch, but not particularly stimulating. I had just discovered I really, really enjoyed watching Cindy fuck other guys, and the purple dildo wasn’t doing it for me. They rocked back and forth a few times, but Cindy also wasn’t getting much to speak of from it, so she pulled off and let cute girl enjoy it solo while we appreciated the view.
At about this point Cindy and I agreed we were worn out. We said our goodbyes and thank yous, and retreated to our room to… sleep. We earned it.
———-
Two hours away from home meant that the Scenic couldn’t be a regular date night thing. Plus both of us had pets, so being away for more than nine or ten hours was courting problems back home. Nonetheless, we managed to break away for the occasional wild and sexy romp.
This time we arrived later than before, and the hot tub was in full swing, so to speak. We check in, find our downstairs room, undress and cover-up for the walk to the tub. It was full to overflowing, so we sit on the sidelines for a few minutes. A more mature crowd than we had before, in all honesty nobody there drew our attention, so when we took the spots of one departing couple we soaked for a few minutes, didn’t chat much, and went back to the room to shower off.
On this date I thought it would be fun, amusing, or even stimulating for Cindy to wear a “cock ring” around my penis just below the head ridge, a bit of sexual jewelry. We had played around a little with it before. As long as she was wet enough it added to her sensations during sex, that is, if her tightness didn’t pull it off and I had to go fishing for it, which was also fun. The cock ring did elicit bemused looks when we were in the hot tub area.
I brought a light robe for lounging in the playroom this trip, Cindy had a short tie-front swimsuit cover-up that didn’t cover much anyway. So back in the room we don these and then open the door to the common area. I reach back into the room for some quarters and set things up for a round or two at the pool table. The table still only accommodated “9-ball” play, a type of abbreviated “rotation”, where you play the balls in numerical order.
Being only our second visit, we weren’t quite sure what was and wasn’t acceptable in the playroom. Clothed for meet and greet, retreat to rooms for action? Nudity in the playroom, suck and fuck behind closed doors, like at a nudist resort? Anything goes in the public area?
Anyway, we start our pool play, and as tie-front garments do, ours started flapping open as we moved around the table with cue sticks in one hand, but needing two hands to re-cinch the ties. While we were playing, a few of the folks from the hot tub gather in the room, all clothed or mostly so. We try to secure our cover-ups when necessary, but I catch a glimpse I’m being watched by one woman seated back in a corner, especially when my robe has loosened. She is fascinated by the cock ring. She visibly smacks her lips when she notices that I have noticed. Thank you, dear. Unfortunately she was not my type or I would have taken her up on that offer.
The half-dozen or so other guests seated around the room seem to be there for a show, the encouragement from my “fan” an apparent indication of what was expected. I un-cinch my robe and suggest Cindy do the same, and we get appreciative smiles at the more frequent views of pussy, ass, tits, cock and balls.
I notice the door of a room adjacent to the pool table is now open, with a naked African-American gentleman watching our game as it passes his door. Or, rather, watching Cindy pass by with top flapping in the breeze. I discreetly watch him watch her, and he is slowly stroking himself each time she comes by the door.
Now with a better idea of the rules of the bigger game here, I duck into our room and drop off my robe. Emerging naked, I pause in the doorway and clench for a teasing wiggle of my erect, jeweled cock to the lady in the corner, drawing a big smile in response. I motion to Cindy to hand me her wrap (not that it was doing any good), letting her know she has an enthused audience who would like to see more. I toss it into the room while she takes her next shot fully nude in the brightly lit room for all to enjoy.
The next “view” as she paraded past our black fellow’s doorway was highly appreciated, as he was now stroking in earnest to an impressive erection, and motioning to Cindy to come in, please. I think she’s now aware of the invitation for one-on-one, but wants to continue her teasing. So after a few shots with the opportunity for her to show off with a purpose, given that I’m skilled just enough to “land” the cue ball in a somewhat predictable location, I make sure that Cindy’s next shot requires her to bend fully over the table, on her toes and ass-high in front of the open door. Mind you that I’m slightly handicapped at this moment with a raging-hard cock between me and the pool table, pulsing uncontrollably in anticipation of what is about to happen. Nonetheless I land the white ball roughly where it needed to be.
Her turn. As she is bent over nearly laying on the table and squaring-up her cue stick, I silently motion for our friend to step into the main room. As she draws back to execute the shot, I softly touch her shoulder, whisper “stay put and spread ’em”, and gently take the cue stick away. I mouth “go ahead” to our fellow, seeing I had for all intents drawn a bulls-eye on her now slightly gapped pussy.
Cindy knew what was coming given the foreplay teasing, so she was moist and ready as she grasped the two table pockets within reach to hold on. Her anticipation was further confirmed in the blush of her swollen and now slightly drooping pussy lips.
It takes two hands for him to guide his enormous cock into her waiting cunt. It was appreciably longer than mine, with a lot of girth, clearly double what I had. There were audible inhale gasps from the onlookers as he entered. Was he really that big? She only winced once or twice as his penis head penetrated her inner lips; she pushed back slightly to hasten the shaft entry to adjust to its stretching her.
While nice to watch as he thrusts in and out with his loose, large, free-hanging testicles swinging like a bull’s — an apt metaphor in this case — it was really only a straight-from-behind conventional bent-over fuck; they didn’t move to find any other positions. He came with a couple of deep pushes as Cindy emitted a loud “unnnggghMPF!” when he shoved in maybe a little too hard, hitting bottom. Continuing to push, he lingers in the ecstasy of his ejaculation, finally pulling out soft after two or three minutes, the two of them dripping a puddle of cum on the floor as he uncoupled. It was hard not to notice when he pulled out that his flaccid cock flopped down halfway to his knees. I guess he was sort of big. A touch wobbly from the intensity of his orgasm, he stumbled back to grab the doorframe; Cindy was already limp and resting on the table. Judging by the look on her face she was more relieved it was over rather than sated. I couldn’t stand it any more as it was a great show; not having enough time to take my place to properly fill Cindy I left my own offering under the other end of the pool table in two or three arcing spurts. Soft applause from the crowd. Huh. Glad we could oblige.
We were spent, so after helping Cindy up we excused ourselves to clean up and crash for the night. We’d have many more opportunities to fuck each other later.
———-
We were married by now; there was no way either of us were going to pass up what we had discovered in each other. We even honeymooned at the Scenic, but by keeping to ourselves that time there was nothing special to write home about, ‘cept finally noticing how bad the decor was, wondering how it was possible to clean flocked wallpaper.
Anyway, by this date at the Scenic we more or less know the drill. We check in for a downstairs room again, fully aware that leaving the door open is inviting “participation”. With our stuff in the room we strip down to nude, grab towels and head for the communal hot tub.
We were, frankly, jaded enough by the previous experiences there and our various nudist park adventures we simply didn’t bother to cover up for the walk from the room to the tub. “Hey, you, driving by! Get an eyeful of her!” as I nudge her around for a full frontal to the passing traffic. The view was very lovely, of course, accented by her light blonde and very wispy pubic hair, which hid nothing. Was that a horn toot? Score!
We set down our towels in the cabaña next to the tub and lowered ourselves in. Already taking the soak were three guys and a couple. Two of the guys were somewhat older than the rest of us who were mostly in our 30s. Cindy sat herself next to the youngest of the stags, with me on her other side. We engage in the small talk typical in a shared basin of naked horny adults, each occasionally glancing up trying to make sense of the porn on an overhead TV, blurry from a hopelessly worn out tape cassette.
The couple was seated across from us, fondling each other. We eventually notice they were apparently working the top of the head of his erection with her and then his palm while she stroked the shaft. The back of his hand was poking up and down out of the water by now, and then it hits us: this is a deep wooden tub, not a fiberglass spa. The seats are low enough so the water covers most women’s breasts even when sitting upright. His cock must have been at least 11 or 12 inches long. They were obviously there to show him off and maybe find a size queen for him. Cindy nudges me and firmly whispers in my right ear, declaring that while it may be an erotic visual, no way is she getting near “that thing”, the pool table incident was more than enough of that.
OK, so it’s clear at this point who she isn’t going to fuck tonight. I mock pout back that it would’ve been fun to watch, followed by my being on the business end of a sharp elbow in the ribs.
While that little show was going on, Cindy had been chatting up the moderately attractive, slightly stocky fellow on her other side, probably charmed by what I guess was a Canadian or possibly light British accent. After a little more of this repartee she adjusts her sitting position and scoots over just enough to be on his lap or nearly so. A little more moving about and she’s in his lap: message received, he can go for the gold, an unspoken “do me”. Though his (and her) apparent intent was a discreet underwater fuck right there in front of me and everybody else in the tub, nah, it was obvious. Cool. Cindy is slightly bobbing up and down, which made it clear she was rubbing her pussy against his cock, trying to make things happen.
But no joy. The disinfectant in the water is washing away her natural lubrication and making entry highly unlikely to impossible. After a few more minutes of stroking her clit against his cock head and shaft, enjoying every bit of the stimulation, she settles down in his lap, and he and I quietly exchange room numbers, to resume later.
Overheated by the action as well as the hot tub water, we excuse ourselves and grab our towels to dry off. Heading back to our room, with the walk facing the road I’m doing nothing to hide my upright hard from the passing traffic, and Cindy’s beauty is fully on display, too. “Eat your heart out, I’m going to screw her in just a couple of minutes. See?” No horn toots this time. Darn.
We briefly shower to wash off the hot tub residue since it is so drying, but we have left the door open to signal that we are available, the “code” we learned on previous visits. As she is toweling off, a light tapping on the door announces the arrival of our Canadian stag. I’m slightly surprised in his wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and not nude. I guess he didn’t want to be presumptive, but damn it, it should have been crystal clear from the tub that you were invited to fuck my wife.
I advise that Cindy isn’t quite done, but he is welcome to take off his clothes and stand by. Now coming out of the bathroom, I take her hand and lead her to the bed, gently lowering her into position, resting on her back. I stroke her labia, massage her clitoris and finger her pussy to confirm that she is receptive, but instead feel she’s still slightly dried-out from the hot tub.
“Hold on, I need to get her ready first,” I caution our friend while he strokes to hardness. Applying a little bit of lube to my penis head, I lift her legs and gently massage her clit with my cock and then her inner lips, gently push into her, followed by three or four slow, deep strokes to distribute the lubrication, both artificial and natural by now. His cock bobs up and down in the realization it wasn’t necessary to masturbate to an erection, he was going to get plenty of encouragement in that department by the visual of my fucking her first.
“OK, she’s ready,” as I pull out and motion for him to take my place. Obscured back in the hot tub but now clearly visible, our Canadian’s equipment is similar to mine, roughly eight inches long by four or so around, and equally pleasant-appearing, with a firm, rounded ball sack. So I relax, sit back in the one chair in the room, and enjoy watching Cindy again being fucked by a stranger, as he grabs her ankles and pushes his cock into her willing pussy, balls deep.
At best it was ten minutes of an attractive, nice-to-watch fuck before he blew his load in her. He softened quickly, and despite efforts to stay in, his cock sort of fell out of her cunt, followed by a small trickle of semen. Nice confirmation.
“Thank you for a great time!” he blurted once he caught his breath. Rising from the bed he grabbed his shorts and shirt, followed by a promise, “Wait a few, I’m going to phone my girlfriend and get her here for you.” A half-hour later we notice the hotel clerk cleaning his room, so it was clear at this point that the promise was a ruse or excuse, or the girlfriend said “NO! Ewww!” since she wasn’t there to begin with, this scene apparently just his thing. Whatever, but nonetheless we weren’t done yet.
Cindy showers to wash off his spunk, and we go back to the hot tub to cruise for late arrivals. It was just the two older men this time. We chat idly, one of them mentioning that “she put on a great show earlier”, a reference to the attempts by her to screw the Canadian fellow in the tub, followed by, “she really must be a nice fuck.”
I respond with a grimaced smile. At this point I’m quite concerned by the tone of their chatter, it was becoming less and less friendly. Something was up. Now trying not to engage them directly, I clutch Cindy a little closer, catching the two of them in my peripheral vision mouthing a go-ahead for a previously-discussed strategy to each other: the guy to my right was to pin me down while the other raped my wife. “OUT! NOW!” I exclaim to Cindy, and we climb straight up and out of the tub since they were between us and the steps.
“Awww, whatsa matter? We could have had some fun!” was the response from the pervs. In replaying the scene in my head, the furtive glances I now recall make me suspect a part of the setup was once one was “done” with Cindy, the other was going to rape me, too. Bottom line, the reality was the Scenic was a lawless place and not everybody was there as equals seeking a mutually-satisfying sexual experience.
In our escape we grab the towels, hastily drying off as we trot back to the room, dress enough to drive, gather our belongings, stuffing the key in the office drop on our way to the car.
Rape is certainly not her thing, nor is it mine. Sex is mutual. We didn’t completely write off the Scenic Motel after that incident, but we didn’t have to. Pocketing a cool half-million for what was a worn-out dump, the owners sold the place to religious do-gooders just a few months after this last encounter and there was never another opportunity; it was razed within a week of the sale.
———-
We do miss the Scenic. We had great times there, and it firmly cemented the playful and totally naughty intimate side of our relationship that is still a key part of our life together after 30 years.