Fred Blake was one of the first people I met in the office when I was transferred from Minnesota to Arizona. He had a weathered look, like he was probably in his early fifties. The Phoenix sun had probably done that. Still, he was trim and seemed in good shape. His hair was dark -- almost black -- and graying nicely at the temples. I hope I still have that much hair when I reach his age. We had the same job title but he had been with the firm nearly ten years while I only had two under my belt.
While I looked for a place to live I was staying in a motel that the company paid for. I figured out why they picked that one when I learned that, while the rooms were nice enough, there was no pool. That made it a rarity for Arizona facilities. It also made it inexpensive. The company isn't cheap but it's frugal. A couple of weeks after I started there, a few of us were having a beer after work. When I mentioned the motel's shortcomings, Fred invited me over to his place that weekend. "You can meet my wife and kid. We'll grill some steaks and drink some beers out by the pool." he said. "We can even take a dip. I didn't know that place they put you up in didn't have a pool." I was grateful for the invitation and accepted.
I was a little nervous as I pulled to the curb in front of the house. The neighborhood was upscale and I wondered how Fred could afford it. I knew he made a little higher salary than I did since he had been with the company longer than I had, but I didn't think he made that much more. I couldn't have afforded this place. I was glad I had spent the extra bucks for the imported beer.
A woman answered the door. Her head barely came to my shoulder, but she was a knockout. She had short brown hair and was wearing a white terry cloth towel that started just under her armpits and stopped a long way short of her knees. At least at first I thought it was just a towel, but then I saw it was more tailored than that. With the pocket near one hip, it had to be one of those pool wraps. She had slim smooth legs and the white cloth really set off her tan. But her most "outstanding" features were her tits.
I figured her to be somewhere between mid-thirties and early forties. She smiled broadly and said, "You must be Allan! I'm Shirley." There were deep dimples on either side of her generous mouth. She held her hand out. When I took it to shake she surprised me by pulling me inside. The surprise didn't end there, either. She reached a hand up, pulled my head down to her level and gave me a hug and a kiss on the lips, as if we'd been friends for years. I didn't mind but it seemed excessive under the circumstances. I also didn't mind feeling those large breasts against my chest. It had been a while since I had felt that.
I stammered the usual stuff and she laughed, taking custody of the beer. Her laugh was echoed by Fred's as he came into the room. Fred wore a pair of trunks in a red and black tropical print without a shirt. I saw that his tan was as deep as his wife's. "Shirley, leave the poor guy alone. Get to know him before you start making moves on him!" The uneasiness passed soon enough as Shirley took the beer and left the room. Fred started showing me around.
The house was as nice as the exterior promised. The living room was on the left, two steps down from the Saltillo tiled entry. The floor in there was thickly carpeted and a natural stone fireplace dominated the room. The rock work rose from the floor to the ceiling high overhead. Huge fans spun lazily up there, keeping the air stirred up.
Across the living room, steps led up to a hallway next to the fireplace. Fred said there were four bedrooms and a bathroom down there. "We put a sunken Jacuzzi tub in the master bath," he said. To the other side of the entry there was a big family room with a full size pool table, giant TV and a bar.
Shirley was behind the bar stowing the beer I'd brought in a small refrigerator. Through the sliding glass doors I could see a part of the large back yard and a corner of the pool. "This is a great house, Fred," I said. He grinned.
"Yeah, tell me about it. Thanks to Shirley's dead grandfather, she can afford to keep me in the lifestyle I love!" He ducked an ice cube launched by Shirley. But I had the answer to my question. He explained that Shirley's family was a pioneer Arizona family. Her great grandfather had been a prospector and had found a streak of gold somewhere out in the desert. His son, Shirley's grandfather, had turned the original fortune into megabucks. He sold the company he founded just before the crash of '29 and began investing again. He made his kids and grandkids filthy rich when he died.
We walked through the family room and into the kitchen. It almost looked like a restaurant kitchen with all the stainless steel and the six burner gas range. We returned to the family room where Fred handed me an ice cold beer. As I was popping it open, a little boy (I assumed it was their son, Joey) ran into the room from the yard, chased by a little girl who was blonde, a head taller than he was, and looked to be about ten years old. They were both stark naked! Neither Fred nor Shirley seemed surprised at their lack of clothes so I tried to be nonchalant, too. It was no good because they'd been watching for my reaction. They both laughed at my obvious surprise.
"We're pretty casual about clothes around here, Allan," Fred said. "That was Joey and his cousin, Marie. She's staying with us for the weekend. I wasn't sure how you felt about nudity so Shirl' and I got dressed up for you." He held his arms away from his sides as if demonstrating.
I had been surprised, but not shocked. The truth was that I'd been a closet nudist for most of my life. My family, however, was a typical Midwestern conservative one. The only time I was able to feel the freedom was when I was alone at home or out in nature somewhere by myself.
When I got married, my wife was okay with me going naked around the house. She even joined in sometimes and we even took a few showers together. When I suggested going to a nudist or clothing optional resort, however, she drew the line. "I don't want some naked perverts staring at my naked ass, and I certainly don't want to see theirs!" was how she put it. End of conversation.
As it turned out, that was only one of the areas where we differed. After a couple of years the list got too long and we got divorced. None of the women I'd gone out with since had lasted long enough for me to feel comfortable discussing the subject. I hadn't "taken the plunge" and tried social nudity after the divorce because... well, I guess I was still a bit skittish about doing it alone.
So when Fred gave me the obvious opening I was intrigued. I figured there would never be a more appropriate time to put myself to the test. I responded. "I'm fine with social nudity. I've never actually participated but I've always sort of wanted to," I said. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I said the words but it felt good to say it out loud.
"Well, then let's all get naked," Shirley said happily. She had come out from behind the bar and she matched her actions to her words by pulling a Velcro tab under her left arm. There was the expected ripping sound and the wrap fell away. She tossed it on the couch and took a bow, giving a little "Ta-Dah!" I'd known her for all of three minutes and she was standing there totally naked, dressed in just her mahogany tan. When I say "totally", I mean it. Other than on her head, there was no hair to be seen anywhere. As I said, she was short but her proportions were great. Her breasts stood out with very little sag. The nipples were a dark plum color and they, too, stood proudly erect. Her belly had a little bulge but it looked right for her. I guess I stared.
"Close your mouth, boy," Fred said with a grin. "You're liable to swallow a fly!" I realized my mouth was literally hanging open. I clapped it shut and grinned sheepishly at my host. Fred added, "She is something, though, isn't she?" As he spoke he was casually stepping out of his trunks. They soon joined Shirley's wrap on the couch. His groin -- and, I realized, almost his entire body -- was as hairless as Shirley's. Neither of them had a hair other than their heads and arms. Fred's penis seemed to stand out more from the lack of hair.
Shirley hooked my arm with hers and led me down the hall. Her breast was warm against my elbow, causing my prick to begin to salute. I tried to remember my multiplication tables to distract my mind. She pointed out the guest bathroom as we passed it and continued to the spare bedroom. "You can leave your clothes in here, Allan. We'll be out by the pool when you're ready. I remember my first time. It is easier than you think it's going to be right now, believe me. Oh, hang on a sec." She whirled and left the room, leaving the door open. In a few seconds she was back. She tossed me a towel. "That's for you to sit on while you're naked. Nudist etiquette rule number one. Besides, if you sit down outside it'll keep you from frying your ass." She smiled (those dimples again!) and added, "It also comes in handy for you guys if you get a hard on, though I don't mind seeing them." She winked, and walked out.
I nervously shed my clothes. Once I was naked I realized I had to pee. I opened the door and peeked out. There was no one around. Holding my towel in front of my half hard cock I tiptoed back to the bathroom and stopped in the open doorway. The naked little girl was sitting on the toilet, kicking her feet and singing to herself softly as she peed. I tried to back out before she looked up but I was too slow. "Hi," she said. "You're my Uncle Fred's friend from work." She was a typical kid, just a naked one.
Trying to be as casual as everybody else seemed to be, I stopped my retreat but I was glad to have the towel to hold in front of me. "Right the first time," I replied. "My name is Allan." She smiled up at me while her stream of urine tinkled into the bowl. It was disconcerting to stand there and have my nudity assessed by a naked little girl. Her eyes traveled over my body and came back up to my face. She smiled again.
"Hi, Allan. I'm Marie," she said as she stripped a length of tissue from the roll. "You have lots of hair," she added. She hopped to her feet, squatted a little bit and reached between her thighs to wipe her hairless little mound. She dropped the paper into the bowl, flushed and brushed past me, saying, "See you outside, Allan." Then she was gone.
I shook my head. This was going to take some getting used to, I thought. I closed the door (wondering if that was some kind of breach of 'nudist etiquette') and used the toilet. Then I stripped some tissue from the roll and blotted the dribbles -- something I don't normally do, but since I didn't want to drip on Fred and Shirley's floor, I thought it prudent. I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face. I looked in the big mirror over the sink. I could see my reflection down to my thighs. I decided I was in pretty good shape for thirty seven. I had inherited my dad's -- or maybe my mother's (though I can't recall ever seeing her naked) -- hirsute gene. As Marie had pointed out, my chest, as well as the rest of my body, was covered with dark, curly hair. "Well, here goes nothing," I told my reflection and I left the bathroom.
Telling myself that everybody else was naked too, and that there was nothing to be nervous about I entered the family room. I retrieved my beer from the bar. Through the glass doors to the patio I saw Fred working at the grill, Shirley sitting at a round glass table nearby on a canvas chair, and the two kids splashing in the shallow end of the pool. I drank down half my beer. I burped and finished it. Helping myself to another one, I slid the door open and stepped out.
Shirley turned her head and smiled at me. "Come on over here and have a seat, Allan," she said, indicating the chair next to her. Fred glanced at me and back down at the grill as I walked to the table, discreetly holding the towel about waist level. I hurried because the flagstones were pretty hot on my bare feet. There was a wide umbrella shading the table but the air was hot and dry. I realized with embarrassment that I had a partial erection but so far the towel hid it. I spread the towel on the seat of the chair and sat. When I looked up at Shirley she smiled again.
"See? It's easy. Once you take the plunge you wonder what you had to be nervous about."
"Well," I said, "I'm not quite used to it yet, but it feels great."
She glanced up at her husband and leaned close to the table -- as if she was going to tell me a secret. Her breasts rested on the glass comfortably. Her move caused me to lean closer to hear. She lowered her voice and said, "Don't take this wrong, Allan, but I noticed the way you were holding your towel. An erection is nothing to be embarrassed about. We're all friends here. Marie has even seen Fred with half a hard on lots of times. It's normal. They go away if you just ignore them."
Her advice caused my half hard cock to rise to full mast. My face felt like it was glowing with exactly the embarrassment she was telling me to ignore. Sitting back in my chair I opened my mouth but could think of no reply. I closed my mouth. I looked away and back at Shirley. She was still smiling (dimpling) and looking through the glass of the table at my cock. I know she probably meant what she had said, but her eyes twinkled with something that made me throb harder. So, sitting there naked, with my dick pointing up at my friend's wife, I sipped beer and chatted with the naked woman I had barely met. It was a bizarre situation to say the least.
While Fred finished cleaning the grill, Shirley and I talked. She told me a little about herself, but mostly she drew me out, got me to telling her more about me than I would normally have told somebody I had just met. I wasn't sure whether it was her conversational skill or the fact that we were both naked and, therefore, had nothing to hide. As she had promised, my erection subsided.
Fred went back into the house, reappearing in a minute with two new beers -- this time he had put each one in one of those foam cozies. "They get as warm as piss in no time if you don't use these when you're outside," he said. Another lesson in my desert education, I thought. He handed one to me and took an empty chair.
About that time Joey and Marie came running over from the pool. They were dripping wet. Joey climbed into his dad's lap and Marie just stood there next to my chair. I looked up at her and she grinned. "How come you have hair on your penis?" she asked. I choked on the mouthful of beer. Everybody laughed, but Shirley explained that, just like at the 'camp', some people didn't remove their pubic hair.
"I think it looks yucky," Marie said.
"Marie that will be enough. Don't be rude." Shirley gave her niece a look I used to see on my (clothed) mother's face. It did the job. Marie's little butt bounced as she ran back and jumped into the pool.
"You mentioned a camp, Shirley. Is there a nude resort around here?" I asked. As long as I was going to finally indulge, I decided I might as well go the whole route.
Fred answered for her. "It isn't what you'd call close, but it isn't halfway across the country either. If you want to go sometime we can bring a guest along."
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," I told him. "I know there were some clubs in Minnesota, but I just never had the guts to go on my own."
"There are also travel clubs that don't have real estate," Shirley said.
"How does that work?" I asked.
"They get together somewhere -- one of their homes or at a club as a group -- from time to time. We used to be in one here, but it got to be... a little strange." Shirley looked a bit uncomfortable when she said that. Fred cleared up the mystery.
"Strange, hell! It turned into a wife swapping club -- which, in case you didn't already know, isn't what the nudist movement is about."
"Oh, I've read about it a lot," I said. In fact it was clubs like that one that kept social nudity so far "in the closet". Fred's next words surprised me, though.
"I mean we aren't prudes." He shooed Joey back to the pool and his cousin before he added, "I mean we've swapped a couple of times, but we were discreet about it. It just isn't what nudity is about."
"Fred!" Shirley blushed and scolded her husband. To me she said, "It was a long time ago and we were both a lot younger then. I doubt we'd get any takers these days."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Shirl'," Fred said. "You saw the way Allan looked at you when you showed him the goods. I bet he'd like to get between those legs." It was my turn to blush and my sleeping erection threatened to awaken. Shirley noticed the twitch under the table and Fred saw her look. He just chuckled and took a drink of beer.
"Don't bother to respond to that, Allan. Fred's been drinking since noon." Still she said it with a smile.
The subject changed and after a while we all went inside. The kids went to Joey's room to play video games, Shirley went to the kitchen to "put a salad together", and Fred and I stayed at the bar. The sky turned several shades of red, orange and violet as the sun dropped behind a mesa.
A short time later, Shirley brought out a tray with three nicely seasoned rib steaks and a couple of hamburger patties on it.
I trailed Fred out to the gas grill and he fired it up. By then I was beginning to feel the beer and I had completely lost my self consciousness about being naked in company. Fred talked a little bit about the job -- who to trust, etc. -- and then glanced back at the house. When he turned around he said in a lowered voice, "Really, Allan, don't believe everything Shirley says. I saw her checking you out. She likes you. Have you ever had group sex?"
I considered my reply carefully. I trusted Fred, even before he confirmed my own assessment of our coworkers. Still, I wasn't ready for anything like what he seemed to be suggesting. "No, but I always wanted to try it with two women," I said.
"Oh, yeah," he said, "the great American male fantasy. It can be good, but it usually isn't everything you imagine it will be." He didn't expand on that so I didn't reply. He peeked at the underside of the steaks and moved them around without turning them over.
"Shirley's brother -- Marie's dad -- and his wife used to be our main partners when we swapped. That Wendy is something else! She doesn't have very big tits but she can sure give a hell of a blow job." His eyes were seeing memories while he spoke. He flipped the steaks and let the burgers ride a few more minutes. I'd had enough to drink that it took a couple of seconds to register. If they had swapped with Shirley's brother, it meant that at some point Shirley would have been having sex with her brother. I filed that away without examining it.
"Don't get me wrong. Shirley gives great head and she's a great fuck, but there's nothing like a little 'forbidden fruit', especially when it isn't really forbidden." Glancing at the kitchen window I saw Shirley gazing out at us. She smiled and waved and I waved back. Then she made a beckoning motion with her hand.
"I think Shirley needs something," I told Fred.
"Go ahead. I have to keep an eye on the groceries here," he said.
I went into the house and through the door to the kitchen. The ceiling fan was whipping around and it made the kitchen considerably cooler than the patio, even without the sunshine. "Can I help with something?" I asked Shirley.
"Not really. I just wanted to mention something to you. Don't take everything Fred says as gospel, Allan. I mean, what he said at the table was true. I just thought he might be rushing you into something." She turned to face me and leaned her butt against the edge of the counter. Looking straight into my eyes she continued. "You didn't expect to be spending the afternoon and evening naked with us, let alone having Fred almost pimping me to you. You're attractive. You're even cute," she added and she grinned. "Just don't feel like you are being pressured. It's been years since we did anything outside our own marriage. We never said 'never again', or anything. We just decided to ease off a little bit." She poured a glass of wine from a bottle in the shiny refrigerator before she said anything else.
"If my intuition is right, Fred was telling you about Wendy and Gerry."
"He mentioned that Wendy was your sister in law," I said. The odd thing was that I didn't feel like I was being pressured. Both Fred and Shirley seemed simply open and honest. I sort of figured it was a little early in the friendship to be telling the kind of tales they were, but maybe that kind of openness goes along with nudity.
"I figured," she laughed. "He always loved it when she went down on him." I thought it was time for me to declare a position before things went any farther. She looked into my eyes for a long moment and then added, "So I guess you realize my brother and I used to have sex."
"As far as it goes, Shirley, I don't care what you and Fred do or don't do. I've always tried not to judge people. As for me, I have never been the kind of guy who enjoys one night stands." I quickly added, "Oh, I've had a couple, but they proved distinctly unsatisfying. They taught me that there has to be something more than just sex for me. I don't have to be in love with the woman, but I have to care about her as a person and not just what she has between her legs."
Shirley sipped her wine and watched me over the rim of her glass. Then she gave a little nod. "I like that. You put it very well." About then Fred came into the kitchen with the tray. The smell of grilled beef filled the air, thanks to the fan. My mouth watered.
We adults ate sitting on our towels at the bar and the kids sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The TV was tuned to Nickelodeon. The steaks and salad were delicious.
I drank two glasses of Merlot with my dinner. After the four beers I was not staggering drunk, but I was definitely feeling lightheaded. I asked Shirley for a glass of ice water after dinner. She put a twist of lime in it for me.
The kids were hustled off to the tub and Fred scanned the channels to get the day's sports news. When Shirley returned she suggested turning off the tube and playing some pool.
Now, pool is the one sport I love. A lot of people don't consider it a sport, but I do. I'm not an expert, since I've never had the convenience of owning a table. Nevertheless, I've played enough to be pretty good. I seem to be an 'on again, off again' shooter. I mean, some nights I just can't seem to miss. Other nights I can't seem to sink a single ball. Usually, though, my game falls somewhere between those two extremes.
I had been itching to shoot a game all day, ever since I walked into the room and saw the table. As a centerpiece for a family room, you can't beat a pool table. With a light hanging over it the absolute glow of that green felt is beautiful. Fred and Shirley had spent some bucks on their table. It was a Brunswick with those braided leather pockets. I was impressed when Shirley racked the balls using one of those spring-loaded racks I've seen on television.
"You guys play first," she said. "I want to see how good Allan is before we start betting." There were those dimples again. Suddenly I wondered what it would be like to lick them. 'Whoa, boy!' I cautioned myself. I gulped another mouthful of ice water. I wondered if it would be a breach of etiquette to ask to use the guest room for the night. I realized I was in no shape to drive home. Maybe, I thought, if I played some pool and stuck to water I would be okay.
Fred and I played a couple of games of Eight Ball. There was no more mention of betting at first. I was glad since I didn't have money to waste at pool. My game was okay. I was pretty firmly in the center of my curve. I made as many as I missed. Fred won the first game and I won the second. Shirley cheered us both on.
She left the room for a few minutes and returned just as Fred was starting to rack the balls again, Shirley said, "Why don't you switch to Nine Ball?" Fred looked at me and I shrugged. I like both games. "The kids are tucked into bed," she announced. It seemed an odd thing to say just then.