(This is a sequel to my story "Daughters of Priapus." Although it could be read on its own, readers might find it informative to read that first, in order to acquaint them with some of the characters that are mentioned.)
It was most unnerving at first, and yet most liberating. At the age of fifty-nine, I was once more a woman who could reach a climax easily, after years and years of frigidity. This was a result of a visit I'd made the previous summer to my old sorority. I was searching for a piece of my past, and I found it. I cannot tell you the nature of the ritual that revived my sexuality, for that is a ritual that only my sorority sisters know. But the experience, coupled with a re-introduction to Lesbian sex with Amy and the other sisters, stirred passions in me that I thought were long dead. I went back to visit them from time to time, and they welcomed me into their house and into their beds.
Of course, most of the sisters preferred men, and I found that I did, too. The girls were sweet and gave me the most wonderful orgasms, but I realized how much I missed the sensations of making love to a man ... his male scent, his urgency, his weight on my body, his hard cock thrusting into me, the feeling of power knowing that my vagina was the center of his world. Now that I had my libido back, I was determined do something about that. But first, I had to take care of myself.
One of the first things I did was purchase some vibrators. My sisters were very helpful, showing me their favorite models and how to use them. When I was in college four decades ago, those clever designs had yet to be developed, and my idea of a vibrator was either a hand-held massage tool with a flat vibrating surface or a motorized dildo that vibrated in spiral patterns and buzzed like a razor. But the girls showed me a Hitachi "Magic Wand" and a variety of rabbit vibrators, and it wasn't long before I had purchased units of my own to complement the "egg" vibrator that Amy had given me as a homecoming present.
And I would play with them almost nightly, re-training my body to accept pleasure. I still had no partners for sex, but with my new toys I was able to satisfy my urges for a while. When summer came in with its warm weather, I would strip nude as soon as I got home and try to have at least one orgasm every night, along with the one I had nearly every morning before I rose to greet the day. My only adornments were another homecoming present from a sorority sister: a pair of nipple clips, each consisting of a loop of wire, a slider to tighten it around my nipple as much or as little as I wished, and a beautiful white teardrop pearl that dangled from the bottom of the slider.
I had also taken to wearing my egg vibrator and my nipple clips to public places, to put an erotic edge on commonplace activities. It amused me to chat innocently with people as I became aroused, knowing that my sexual tension was a secret to them. Once I was reassured that the thing was waterproof, I even took my egg to the beach with me and turned it on as I watched the scantily clad men and women cavorting in the water. I'm sure I looked like an ordinary sunbather to the casual glancer, but inside I was quivering. Once when I was lying on my stomach on my beach towel, I even slipped a finger inside my swimsuit bottom and masturbated myself to a climax, although nobody seemed to notice. I felt so wicked!
I had friends of both sexes, of course, mostly whom I had met at the community theater I worked at. But most of the men much younger and were more interested in women their own age, or younger. There was a man named Greg with whom I'd flirted from time to time. He'd just been dumped by his girlfriend, and we'd done some giddy bar-hopping together after our last play closed, although I was too timid to take it further. And I became close to Dottie, a woman of about forty who made excellent costumes for the productions.
One day Dottie and I were chatting about what garb we needed for an upcoming show, and then about clothes in general.
"What sort of clothes do you like to wear to the beach?" I asked her.
She gave me an impish grin. "Actually, my favorite costume is nothing at all!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"When I'm not around other people, I go naked whenever I can. And when I go to the beach, it's usually to that nude beach on the Cape."
"You're a nudist? Is that what they're called?"
"That's right. You should try it, Ginnie!"
"Well, in a way, I already do." And I told her about my going nude around the house. "But there's no way I could go nude in front of other people, Dottie. I just can't imagine doing that."
"How do you know? Have you ever tried?"
"Well, I took some showers with the girls in my sorority house last year. That was different. We were all women, and it seemed very natural. But naked in front of men? I don't think so!"
"But you've had lovers, right? Weren't you naked in front of them?"
"Of course. But that was in private."
"So you've never been to a nude beach or nudist resort?"
"No. Never once."
"Well, it's time you did. I'm going to the Cape this weekend. Wanna come?"
"Are you serious? Me on a nude beach?"
"Think it over, Ginnie. Let me know tomorrow."
That night, I stood naked before a full length mirror and examined myself: sagging breasts with very long nipples, a bit of a paunch, a grey-thatched vulva from which my inner lips protruded over an inch and a half. I'd always been very self-conscious of my nips and "curtains" (as my sorority sisters called them), and had dreaded showing them to others. But I had come to see them as natural parts of my body, nothing to be ashamed of. I weighed only twenty-three more pounds than I did in college, most of that in my thighs. For a woman of fifty-nine, I still had a pretty good body, I decided. But could I get up the nerve to expose it in public, for everybody to see?
I dreamed that night. I dreamed that I was walking down a tree-lined residential street. I was completely naked. Men leered at me and taunted me. Women averted their eyes. I was blushing furiously, trying to cover my breasts and crotch with my hands. And then it started raining, a warm rain that drenched us all. I exposed my tits to the rain, held them up and felt the warm water hit them and stream down my belly and crotch. I began to dance. The men quieted down. And then the women started to take their clothes off ... jeans, dresses, bras, panties, shoes. Soon they all were naked, dancing in the rain with me. And then the men started stripping, too. Before long, we were all naked and playing in the warm shower. Men and women alike came up to hug me. There was no sexual undercurrent at all, only friendship. As the men danced, their flaccid penises bounced up and down, perfectly complementing the women's bouncing breasts. We were all glorying in the freedom of our bodies, released from the confinement of clothing. I noticed that somehow my nipples had become decorated with my nipple clips, with the pearls dangling and swinging as I danced. My breasts were suddenly the center of attention, and I was as proud of them as when they first started to appear on my maturing body.
I woke up in a high state of arousal, and quickly wanked myself to a climax with my fingers without even bothering to get out one of the vibrators.
I took my dream as a sign. The next day, I told Dottie that I would accompany her to the cape. On Saturday morning, She picked me up and we went to the beach she'd talked about. I was wearing a sundress, panties, a large-brimmed straw hat, and sandals. And, in a fit of devilishness (or was it because of the dream?), I was wearing the nipple jewelry under the dress, as I often did when I went out. I also had taken the vibrator egg that Amy had given me, put fresh batteries in it, and slipped it into my vagina. Only a little bit of cord protruded from my pussy, looking for all the world like the string from a tampon. I had only to pull the cord to activate the egg.
When I stripped off the dress in the parking lot, Dottie grinned when she saw my bra-less tits with their nipple clips. "Ginnie, those look great on your nips! Don't they hurt?"
"Not a bit! They pinch a little, but I don't mind that. I figured that if people were going to be staring at my tits, I might as well give them something to stare at."
"Come on, let's get your panties off!"
"Can I wait a little bit? This is all so new to me, remember."
"Anything you want, dear. 'Clothing Optional' doesn't mean 'mandatory nudity.' But I'm shucking mine." And with that, she pulled them down and slipped them off her legs.
I have to say that she looked beautiful. Her tits stood out proudly, with puffy nipples only slightly pinker than her skin shade. Her pussy lips were puffy, too, adorned with a neat "landing strip" on her mons that seemed to point the way invitingly downward into her slit. Unlike me, she showed no tan lines or visible inner labia. She had an athlete's ass, firm and round without the slightest sag. As she smiled at me, I suddenly felt a flush of warmth at my crotch. She was turning me on! And somehow she sensed it, because her smile became wider. She kissed me and said, "You're getting aroused now, aren't you?"
"Well, Ginnie, I'm going to keep you that way! I'm going to get those panties of yours so wet that you'll have to take them off!"
"Dottie, are you hitting on me? I never guessed you were gay!"
"I'm bi, dear. When I go to places like this, I'm as interested in the cocks as I am in the tits. Hey, I know a place on the dunes where we can really people-watch. Let's get going!"
.... There is more of this story ...