My vibrator buzzed away eagerly between my thighs. My panties hung loose around one ankle, and the chair was soaked from my juices as I traced figure-eights against my clitoris with the powerful shaft in my hands. I had been at it for almost an hour; sweat covered my face and chest, my skin was flushed, my breathing deep and rapid. I had already orgasmed six, maybe seven times, but I was hungry for more; I was insatiable tonight. I caressed my sensitive nipples, pinching them, teasing me. I thrust nine inches of vibrating pleasure into my bucking hips as I felt another wave of orgasm that I had been patiently building up come crashing down over me. My whole body quivered, my legs weakened, a flush of warmth spread out from my pussy through me as pulses of pleasure courses through my exhausted frame. I moaned out loudly, wordlessly, the ecstasy escaping my body, beyond my control.
Slowly, the pleasure waned and only my satisfied exhaustion remained, panting on my now-moist chair. I sighed deeply and contentedly as I put aside my soiled vibrator and kicked aside my wet panties, replacing them with a clean, dry pair of pink boy-cut undies. That was incredible, I thought to myself. My knees were still tingling; I doubted whether I could even walk. I turned my attention back to my computer, still brazenly displaying the pictures to which I had so recently been pleasuring myself.
I had always had a fascination with public nudity: it seemed so natural, so innocent, so lacking in the self-consciousness and artificiality that seemed to plague everyone I met. I was too shy to try it myself, but I constantly fantasized about visiting a nudist colony or being trapped on a deserted island with only hunky, nude islanders for company, or being invisible and visiting the men's locker room at the gym. Even when people weren't nudists, their embarrassment, their helplessness, the fact that everyone around was watching them, an audience of onlookers observing their naked bodies ... oooh, it was enough to make me want to get out my vibrator again...
I had been checking out a nudism website, whose galleries were one of my favorite places to visit when I needed some pictures for a little..."inspiration," shall we say? Even though I had temporarily satisfied my body's cravings, I figured there was no harm in window-shopping. Maybe I'd find some pictures to inspire a new fantasy or save for next time.
I scrolled through the photos: couples strolling naked along the beach, young men and women together nude, playing volleyball or having fun, families enjoying themselves together, people completely oblivious to the nakedness around them that would drive me wild with desire ... And then I came to it.
Have you ever been walking around a big city and seen a stranger, no different from anyone else, but just, something about them ... you wonder whether it's a friend of yours, but that's impossible: you're hundreds of miles from home, what are the odds? That strange suspicion of recognition, that's what I felt when I looked at that picture.
It showed a guy and a girl. They were facing away from the camera, talking to each other. The girl had her back to the camera. Her hair was long, sleek, and black. Her butt was tight and flattish, although she had wider hips. I couldn't see her face at all: the angle was all wrong. The guy was taller with olive skin and short, black hair. His dick was just barely visible at that angle, a soft, circumcised manhood with a nice head. He was wearing sunglasses and had a visible beard and a moustache. He was looking to his side, at the girl, and happily talking with her.
It couldn't be them. It couldn't be. My neighbors? My neighbors are nudists?!
I couldn't be sure from that picture. I checked to see who had uploaded it; maybe they had more. I clenched my thighs together, relishing the possibilities. They had only moved in about two months ago: a mother and father and three kids, two girls, one boy. I guessed they were a step-family, since the girls all looked Asian, while the guys were white.
I had seen them around a few times, in their yard or walking along the street. I had talked to the boy for a while once. I had been coming home from a walk when I ran into him a few blocks away from our houses. He had been coming out of a convenience store as I was walking in for a drink.
"Oh hey, you're my neighbor, right?" he asked with a welcoming smile. "I'm bad at recognizing people, I hope I have the right person."
"Ya, I'm Keira," I said, shaking his hand and studying his face. The first time I saw him he struck me as a cruel man, but striking. His hair was bit tussled, a bit messy, and dark. His amber eyes had been disinterested and piercing, his lips impassive ... combined with his Che Guevara-esque beard he looked like a Russian agent. I could easily picture James Bond shooting him at the end of a movie. His nose was elegant and straight, very imperial. His face was a little thin.
But when he smiled, his whole face lit up and rounded out. His golden-brown eyes filled with innocence and warmth. He looked like a whole other person – from KGB to teddy bear. "Matthew," he replied.
"What's up? Doing a little shopping?"
"Oh ya," he replied, lifting up the bag in his hand, "I wanted to go for a walk. I was getting too cooped up indoors."
I peered through the thin plastic and arched an eyebrow. "You read Cosmo?"
He fumbled around for words rather adorably. "No, it's for my sister, not me. She wanted it and since I was going out anyway I picked it up. She wanted some cigs, too, but I told her I wouldn't buy those for her, so I grabbed her some batteries, instead."
"Well, aren't you a good brother," I commented. "But what are the batteries for?"
"Oh, um, video games? Ya, she plays video games when she's stressed, so I figured I'd get her some batteries to make it up to her."
I smiled. He was lying, but he was a cute, bad liar. The way his cheeks tinged with blush and he bit his lip... "That's nice of you. Mind waiting a second so I can grab a drink and I'll walk home with you?"
"Oh sure, I'll be right here," he said. "Take all the time you need."
I strolled in, greeted mercifully with a blast of cool AC. I sighed in relief before walking over to the coolers and grabbing a drink. I paid and walked out to see Matthew reading the magazine he had just bought. I quietly walked behind him and leaned in over his shoulder. "So you do like Cosmo, huh?"
He turned around startled. "No, I was just ... bored, waiting for you. You took too long. Are you ready yet?" he asked, trying to save face with faked exasperation.
"Sure," I said, grinning at him, "let's head home." After we started walking, I asked him why his family moved.
"Well the family just grew, and we didn't really have enough room in the old house, so my mom and dad decided to get some place bigger. We didn't move that far, just a few towns, so most of my friends are still in the area. Well, my home friends, anyway. Most of my friends are from college now, so I don't get to see them much when I'm home. Come to think of it, you're the first person I know in this town outside of my family, Keira," he explained.
"I've lived in Hananiah all my life; I think you'll like it. It's a bit small, but there's still fun stuff to do," I commented. My eyes drifted downwards to his crotch for a quick glance. I could see a nice-sized bulge in those jeans of his. I wondered whether a shy guy like this knew how to use it.
"What's that pin on your belt loop?" I asked, nodding towards a blue pin with a black microscope on it that he was wearing.
He looked at it and answered, "Oh, it's for this musician I really like: Cynthia Lin. Her last CD was Microscope, hence the pin design." He smiled and continued, "She's really nice and talented. You should check her out."
So, he likes musicians, huh? "Sounds cool. I play the theremin. Ever heard of it?" I asked.
His face lit up. "Seriously? Wow, that's so awesome! I've always wanted to learn how to play one. I've only played one once, at this science museum. You'll have to teach me how to play sometime," he said breathlessly as we came up on our houses.
"Sure, anytime. I'll talk to you later, I guess. See ya, Matt!"
I hadn't talked to him since then. Maybe I should pay him a visit...
The page loaded, taking me out of my memories. The picture had been uploaded by ... Epiiplusone. Well great, that answered all my questions ... What a terribly unspecific username. Why couldn't it be their name and address or something useful? I opened their profile. Hm, not much personal information ... Female, 20s, but what's this? My, my, they had uploaded a few other pictures: perfect.
I opened them ravenously, hoping they'd confirm my suspicions. But picture after picture, faces were hidden, by angles, by sunglasses, by hats and by other people. I couldn't be certain it was them. It looked like them ... One picture of three young adults looked like pretty damning evidence.
.... There is more of this story ...