A naked 11 year old girl ran past, giggling.
"Down boy, she's too young" said Sandie
"Relax, I've nearly got it under control now"
Jerry and Sandie were walking through the dunes to the beach, a boy, maybe 12 or 13, strode past he was just starting to sprout some hair on his balls. Apparently unselfconscious, but Jerry noticed he gave Sandie the once over. Apparently even relaxed, confident nudists can take in a beautiful body when they see one. He wondered if the boy would head to the nearest toilet now to knock one out. Then he consciously thought of something else before his penis started to rise again.
Earlier that morning they had put the plan into action.
"You two off somewhere nice?" his mum had said.
"Going to Bondara, seems like a nice day for a swim"
"Take some sun cream". Oh yes, definitely.
Even earlier, at school the previous week they had been joking and joshing with friends when the subject of dares came up. No-one knew why or how. Mandy was dared to steal a bra with nipple holes, crotchless pants and a dildo from "De Riere"; odd how few people in their little town understood the joke. Jack (being the swottiest swot in swot city) was dared to get 0% in the spot quiz – name the capital of France = Paris, Texas. Which weighs more, a pound of feathers or a pound of lead = feathers. He did and was sent to the Principle who sent him to the counsellor, who suggested they call his parents, who asked if he'd taken drugs and searched his room – finding a 1963 collectors' item copy of Playboy, a cigarette paper (he'd been making a comb kazoo for his nephew a week before), and some caffeine tablets (for studying late); his Dad insisted on checking the Playboy thoroughly. Ironical really, he kept his stash behind the cistern in the bathroom as Jack already knew (equally thoroughly), his own copy was bought as an investment, and had remained in its wrapper until his Dad removed it. Mary-Anne was dared to say 'fucking cunt' at home; she came from the most religious family (ones who made Plymouth Brethren look positively liberal, she had only been allowed to attend the school because she needed the exams to go to the theological college. She rapidly discovered there was more to life than drab clothes and bible study, but she hid it well at home) in the town; they would be horrified (they were!), but then decided she couldn't know what the words meant (religious and naïve apparently). And Jerry and Sandie were dared to go to Bondara Nudist Beach. The nudist beach is beyond the normal holiday beach (Bondara Beach For All The Family so the tourist posters proclaimed), clear signs indicate where it starts; 'normal' families stay at the town end with the ice-creams and life-guards (you don't get nude life-guards apparently, anyone who has watched re-runs of Baywatch will understand why). There is plenty of room for all, the beach goes on for ever.
When the beach opened 10 years ago the local 'do-gooders, busy-bodies and party-poopers association' had been up in arms. Apparently nudism would lead to low morals, rapes, paedophilia, drugs, and parking offences (Mr Jackson thought parking offences the worst – he lived beside the Kwikky-mart and hated people parking outside his house). 10 years later, with the small town booming from the increased tourism, with no, repeat NO, cases of paedophilia, rape, or nudes walking down Main Street, everybody was happy (except Mr Jackson – he was still convinced parking offences had gone up). Even some of the locals had tried it. The nudists were three types and the beach was semi-officially divided accordingly: families (who generally believed in nudism for philosophical reasons), single women (who generally wanted an all over tan) and couples (who generally wanted ... well you know). Although you could walk along the 'normal' beach for 3 miles to get to the nudist part, the car park was nearby and the changing rooms were there, and the big signs saying 'No Single Men, Please'. The 'please' was superfluous, the organisers weren't asking, they were telling. The first year there had been some trouble with men/boys trying to get in and see a bit of tit or bum; but that had been stamped out with ease. Men can't run well with a hardon so the organisers had easily rounded up these kids and marched them out. Then the beach had settled down to be first section : families (any single boys trying to walk along the beach would have to face fathers with beer guts and tattoos (even some bikers were nudists) and worse, a wall of matronly nudes protecting their girls. A 16 year old wouldn't get far, and would get an eyeful of floppy tit and floppier bottom which would scar his mind for life. Nudism in the family section wasn't about looking like Emma Watson, Cameron Diaz, Hugh Jackman or even Vladamir Putin on a good day, it was about being free to the air.
Section two was the single women, they tended to come in pairs or threesomes, and would all lie on their fronts the first time until they were nearly toasted before giggling slightly and turning over to show their shaved (or, rarely, unshaved) 'front bums' as they would demurely call them. Their perky breasts would point to the sky even as they lay on their backs. And that first visit they would often go home with embarrassing sun burn on places that had never seen the sun before. A sunburnt nipple was difficult to treat, a sunburnt pair of labia was agony for a day or two. There was a warning leaflet which was quite graphic in its descriptions (the organisers were matter-of-fact about body parts, the warning about using the toilet with a sunburnt anus was one to make everybody cross their legs), but people often ignored it, the first time.
It was true that sometimes family dads would take a turn round the beach and remember when their wives looked like that and they didn't have to play hunt the cunt in the layers of flesh, but that was no different to businessmen ogling the secretaries. When everybody is nude it somehow becomes less sexual.
Section three was more spread out, these were the couples and whilst some lay on the beach and went swimming, many went into the dunes, found a private spot and played more active, horizontal games than the families with their volley ball and baseball and cricket (this part of the state had close connections to England and had fielded a team in the 'village cricket 2012 – world series' in Nether Wallop, England).
Jerry and Sandie had been together since nursery. They had arrived on the same day, cried in the same corner for their mums, played hospitals with the dolls, played cowboys and 'native americans' with the dolls and been the token boy/girl (respectively) at each other's parties until they were about 11 (when the others caught up). At 10 Jerry had seen Sandie's knickers, at 11 she had seen his penis and at 12 he had seen her breasts (more like large pimples). They had never had sex, never seen each other naked since puberty had fully set in; and continued, at 17, to attend the same church and church youth group. That isn't to say Jerry hadn't fondled Sandie's bottom (over the clothes), of course he had. And that isn't to say Sandie hadn't had a thrill when she realised that kissing Jerry with her mouth open was making the 'thing in his pocket' get bigger and harder against her groin. They were shocked at their dare. But they couldn't turn it down, the others were all up for theirs. The group trusted each other, though Mandy showed the bra and pants (and the dildo had been unwrapped! She never explained why) she had stolen, she hadn't needed to, Jack couldn't hide his dare if he'd wanted to, Mary-Anne could only explain what had happened at home. They all believed, and she was nearly pulled out of school as a result of it (the school had to apologise and instigated a – brief – campaign against bad language). So Jerry and Sandie could have lied about going, but everybody knew they wouldn't, the friendship was too strong to lie to each other. And, yes, it's true, the two of them each secretly was looking forward to seeing the other naked, even whilst going red at the thought of stripping off themselves.
They'd cycled out the 3 miles to the tourist beach, established a few normal things to talk about when they got home, - the 'safe swimming flag' was up, the Mr Whippy ice-cream van was in the car park, Officer Landrush was in the carpark drinking tea (he was a by-word for lazy, waste of space. It was said that he had never arrested anybody in his life, except for a rogue tortoise that he caught after a 3 hour chase). Then they cycled on, there was a cycle path in the dunes so there was no chance of being seen by a passing neighbour on the road. At the entrance they signed in and went into one of the changing rooms.
"Bit of a misnomer isn't it?"
"What?" replied Sandie
"Changing room – we aren't going to get changed, just undressed"
"Well do it then, stop putting it off."
Of course they turned away from each other, packed their beach bags with their clothes, put their pumps back on their feet (footwear was allowed) and of course as soon as he turned round and saw her bottom (she was bending over her bag, the view was enough to turn a priest!) he got a massive hardon.
"Hang on" he said turning back "I've forgotten something"
It went down and he took a deep breath, turned round ... to see a full frontal of a sexy, lithe, 17 year-old female sex bomb body. She had perfect breasts (what was he comparing them to? He had only seen Lindy-Ann's (cousin) from a long way off three years ago), and a lovely partially shaved cunt. He wanted to use a different word, but anything else seemed too biological, yet cunt seemed too sexual, too objectifying. But it was lovely, and he had a massive boner.
"Jerry, you can't go out like that"
"I know, sorry"
"Anybody would think you'd never seen a naked woman before"
"Only in pictures"
"You saw me"
"That was years ago and you were flat chested and now ... well, now you're not"
"You weren't looking at my chest" his eyes flashed down to where he had been looking
"You really aren't helping Sandie"
"Still, pretty impressive when it's saluting isn't it?"
"Again, Sandie, not helping"
She was enjoying his embarrassment. It helped hide her own. The only person who had seen this fully developed body had been the doctor when she'd had a discharge – he had examined her vagina minutely and carefully, but it seemed a professional interest and she hadn't been completely naked even then. Of course when he was arrested a month ago for giving young girls sedatives and molesting them she did wonder; but actually even at 17 she was too old for his particular preferences. When she had exposed her developing body to Jerry at 12 years old, that would have been a different and much more disturbing story with the Dr. Kible Van Moise.
Slowly, he brought his erection under control and he flopped back to his normal 4 and a half inches. Now they could finally leave. This was apparently not an unusual event for first timers, the organisers always directed first time couples to one of the quieter changing rooms in case a little hand massage was called for to deal with the problem. Thankfully, in view of later requirements, that wasn't necessary now.
So they walked out and along the boardwalk, trying to nonchalantly carry their bags in front of them like it was the most natural way of carrying a bag at groin level directly in front of them.
"How do? Welcome!"
An old man, maybe 65, walked past. He didn't even turn his head to take in Sandie's tasteful arse; he was as naked as the day he was born and entirely unfazed by the sight of a 17 year old beauty queen (well, she would have been if she didn't consider such things a degrading objectification of the female form) entirely naked walking past. Truth was he'd seen it all before; he was totally content with his once a week session with his darling wife. The man's lack of prurient interest gave Jerry more confidence, perhaps everybody wouldn't be staring after all. Sandie on the other hand felt slightly affronted that she wasn't able to feel offended at being ogled by dirty old men. Girls can be so contradictory thought Jerry as they walked and talked.
At the beach they turned right and headed away through the family throng. There were about 15 families dotted around, some close together, some more distant. All naked; naked children, naked parents, naked grandparents.
"Some of these old men are in quite good shape – perhaps having it all hang out encourages you to make sure it doesn't"
"Doesn't all hang out, and over. The women over 50 seem less, umm, less concerned with their looks"
It was true. A higher proportion than normal (Jerry estimated) of the men looked pretty good, like they could run a marathon, or lift their own weight. In town most men over 50 looked like they could barely carry their own beer guts. But the women appeared to decide that if you were going to spread, well sod it, you might as well just let it happen. There weren't any grossly obese ones, hell, you had to be able to walk half a mile to get from the carpark to the beach, but their arses (Jerry thought) would definitely cause an eclipse of the sun when they walked past.
Another young girl, maybe 13, walked past with her sister (7 or so). The older girl had small breasts and clear sexual organs between her legs. Jerry made a point of looking elsewhere. Though neither knew it, both were thinking the same thing – "do they get self-conscious as they start developing into women?" There was a rule that children between 10 and 15 could wear clothes if they chose, a recognition that this transition period can be difficult. They didn't see any examples, though plenty of children (well, 5 or 6 ) appeared to fall into that category. Possibly putting on clothes would have emphasised even more their growing sexuality and embarrassed even more.
On they walked into the single women section. This really was difficult for Jerry. Wherever he looked there would be tits, bums, and bushes to not look at. It was so hard (and that was the last thing he wanted to be). By now they had given up hiding their assets. They walked holding hands (a subconsciously proprietorial act by Sandie 'this is my man. You are MY man'); but Jerry couldn't help but notice when a pretty 20-something year old walked passed, her breasts rising and falling with each exaggerated step. Not exaggerated for erotic attraction, simply that walking in sand means you have to lunge from step to step to maintain momentum.
"Jerry, if you don't put your tongue back in a bit you'll drag it in the sand; and get us thrown out!"
"I'm sorry, this is like every porn movie... " she looked at him, there was a clear warning in the eyes " ... I mean that I've heard about at school. Why didn't we come before?"
"Seems to me you should carry your bag further forward"
"Urrg? Oh, shit! Sorry"
"What is it about men? A pair of tits bouncy past and they just-"
"Okay! Look shut up can't you? You really aren't helping at all" By now you could hang his towel on it and it still would have pointed the way like Rudolf. Luckily they had passed the women only section, the couples were far more spread out, and mostly interested in each other rather than a couple of teenagers (however attractive). Not that the ones on the beach were making out. That again was understood, the families and single women didn't want to see that; no, on the beach, the couples were simply facing each other and talking. How, Jerry wondered, did the men avoid getting hardons looking at close quarters at such luscious women? Oh, he noticed, they didn't all accomplish that trick. A couple were nonchalantly walking towards the dunes, the man holding his towel in the pose that Jerry already knew so well, "I just like carrying my towel in front of me in this odd manner, but I'm totally cool with it [but let's get a move on]". Further along, as they passed, they both noticed a man's dick extended across what seemed like an acre of sand to touch the girl opposite.
"But" she whispered in a voice that Jerry was sure could be heard a mile away "it's huge. My God, how does she, I mean, well, you know, she doesn't look that big"
Jerry noticed the man look up, he had heard! But he was smiling, complacently. It was good to be complemented by strangers.
As if by ESP they both opted to head into the dunes. No plan in mind, just that Jerry was starting to lose the battle with his hardon, and even Sandie was finding the sight of pretty fit male nudes somewhat arousing. She could feel her crotch starting to get damp. She'd told herself it was sweat, it was a warm day, but she knew there was more 'sweat' down there than under her armpits. After a couple of rapid U-turns they realised that the protocol was to leave a towel at the last bend in one of the little valleys; beyond that apparently discarded towel they had twice came across two people entwined in utter disregard of their surroundings. Luckily that disregard for sand up the arse and round the balls also included not noticing a brief audience. The first time a large (tall, muscular) black man was energetically thrusting into a young Asian lady who, even from the brief view they had, had clearly invited him to take anal, and was equally clearly encouraging him to pound her sweet arse into oblivion. Jerry would have watched, like a live action 3D porn movie! Sandie was both shocked at what they were seeing and shocked at Jerry's desire to watch what she had always been told was as close to bestiality as it was possible to get without shagging the pet poodle (well, implied. In the church sex outside marriage was wrong, but should still be 'standard' sex. The annual sermon on Sodom and Gomorrah – always a draw for the younger people – made it quite clear that buggery was a highway to hell. Even frottage was frowned upon. She had once asked why Lot had offered the crowd his daughters to rape; but was told Lot was doing the 'Lord's work' in trying to protect the angels in any way he could. Sandie was told off for suggesting that maybe Lot should have offered himself instead).
Not long after they came across another towel. The same thought began to occur to them, that it was a signal, but somehow they kept walking and found a pretty fourteen or fifteen year old riding her boyfriend. She was in reverse cowgirl and so they were both looking the other way, her buttocks rose and fell to a chorus of oohs and aahs from the boy. He was engaged in squeezing her buttocks while she was clearly rubbing herself. In the brief moment before they retired, he tried (clearly again) to finger her arse "No! Robby, I got me standards!" An English rose fucking away in this little resort? How come? They would never find out. This time Jerry had to pull Sandie back, she was fascinated by the control being on top clearly gave the girl. She controlled the depth, the speed, and the clitoral stimulation. He just had to lie back and enjoy it – which he clearly was.
So, when they found a small side valley leading no-where, they left a towel, clearly displayed.
"You sure people will see it?"
"Relax, Sandie, everyone will see it if they come this way"
Now they were alone they were unsure, embarrassed again. The dare had been to come to the beach, they had fulfilled the dare and more. But now they were here they both felt it would be a shame to just leave, and yet, they couldn't bring themselves to look at each other too much. Unconsciously they realised they were on the thinnest of ice now. And Sandie broke it.
"Jerry, look at me"
He turned from where he'd been lying on his side on the sand, naturally Sandie had their one remaining towel. She lay with her legs open. "Look at me, all of me, take it in, get an erection. If you don't I'll think you don't fancy me!"
Shyly at first he looked at her face, a smooth, red lipped, blue eyed, teenage face. Like a million other teenage girls, young, clear skinned, and lovely. But also entirely unique, and a face that he knew in all its moods, or nearly all, he wasn't quite sure what this mood was. Then his eyes began to travel down. Her neck arched slightly as she lay looking up at him. Her breasts (there! That was the erection in all its glory, at last not in need of control, or at least not controlled), not the largest, but then she was lying down. But her nipples were quite hard. Was it true that a girl got hard nipples when she was aroused? The thought of her being aroused, aroused by him, aroused him even more. And in what he realised was an example of positive feedback, his arousal aroused her, which aroused him more, and so on. On down across her lovely flat stomach, not a hint of the rounded stomach on some of the older porn girls he'd looked at. His mother too. The thought of his mother, naked, caused a diminution of the solid, turgid rod; so he moved on and there it was. He hadn't dared look properly in the changing room and hadn't had a chance as they walked side by side.
She had opened her legs deliberately, let him see it all, why not? She could see his every reaction after all and she knew she had embarrassed him a couple times today. So she opened her legs, spread them so he could clearly see her, her slit, her engorging outer lips; oh yes, she was getting turned on being looked at, and the slight glistening of the hairs around her slit, where she had leaked just a little of the fluid that was building up inside. He would want to touch her, should she let him?
"Can I touch you?"
"If you like" There, decision made.
His fingers pretended they wanted to caress her mouth, really they wanted to go straight to her groin; but they maintained the tradition of 'foreplay' and moved gently to her breasts which heaved everso slightly as he touched and stroked and squeezed and then ... oh yes, and then kissed them. She had shut her eyes but she knew he was lying beside her. She was a good girl, but naked, alone in the sand with a naked and very erect boy. I wonder, she thought, I wonder when I realised the inevitable end of this story. Actually she suspected it was when they accepted the dare; but she only admitted honestly to herself it was bound to happen when she lay down.
His hands began their progress to her bush, she was ticklish, always had been, so the stomach had to be bypassed else she would have doubled up with laughter. Jerry had read a story of a girl being forced to accept sex rather than being tickled with a feather anymore. He doubted that this was a way to a woman's vagina; he knew he still had a lot to learn.
At her groin she had to help, show him, how, where, how hard, how fast; but he was a willing student and determined to bring her to orgasm. Sandie had decided it wouldn't count if he enjoyed it but she didn't climax, she thought that would be okay. Her plan was to let him ride her, come, and then they could go home. Now however, she began to realise that being rubbed by someone else is very different to masturbating yourself. After a short lesson she was able to lie back and simply murmur 'more', 'slower', 'up', 'rub round' and he would comply. To lie with your eyes shut, drifting on a miasma of increasing pleasure with no effort needing to be expended, this was paradise. When she came she was almost surprised by it. It was like a bucket of cold water during a lovely warm bath. From relaxing back in ecstasy she suddenly found her heart thumping, her breathing laboured and she could see stars in broad daylight. 6 months later she discovered she had some kind of heart condition which caused sudden shocks like this. She found the slight condition actually helped her orgasms surprisingly – a bit like the suffocation SM action.
"That was really lovely, can we wait, just a little?"
"Wait?" Bless him he still wasn't insisting on taking the sweets that were on offer; then he realised and a broad grin swept across his face. He'd assumed he might have to go off and jack off; best chance was she might give him a hand job; but she was offering herself! She was, wasn't she? If this had been a film he was watching, he'd have been thinking/saying (depending upon the company) "Come on you dickhead, she's flashed her minge at you, she's let you finger her [actually she hadn't even realised he was fingering her, she was so 'in the moment'], of course she's expecting you to fuck her brains out".