by Pierre et al

Copyright© 2015 by Pierre et al

Erotica Sex Story: College student Cristophe visits the home of his irascible roommate's nudist family. He is involved with a group of women who are both friends and sex partners. He also has some crushes that are not necessarily requited. (Not sure how the categorization of stories works exactly--this one is certainly full of explicit sex.) This is a complete story but you might expect a sequel - particularly concerning the illusive Tharma Zamora.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Ma/Ma   Ma/mt   Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Water Sports   Scatology   Analingus   BBW   .

Cristophe worked in the university bookstore ... The boss, Tharma Zamora, a dour lady in late middle age, hated me and tormented me about details. I complained bitterly to my friends. Once when she was looking at me, I was so nervous I dropped a pile of books, bending back the corners of some of the covers. While she screamed at me, I looked directly at her, trying to get centered and take it all in - rather than letting her tirade upset me. Her face was crinkled and dark, her dyed black hair done up in a bun on top of her head. I looked at her narrow face, her prominent nose, and her dark, angry eyes. Spontaneously, without even trying, I imagined her naked. I thought of what her pubic region would look like and her hips and breasts. I thought of myself caressing her, naked, in a hot shower. I imagined sliding my penis into her vagina. From then on, I felt a romantic attraction and even attachment to this admittedly disagreeable lady. I would take advantage of opportunities to brush against her arm with mine or come into brief contact with her fingers. I thrilled to her touch. I looked at her with delight. Still she was stern with me and unpleasant. This went on for weeks.

I had a roommate that fall I met because of being assigned as his roommate. Lanier was a handsome boy of eighteen. He was arrogant and presumptuous. I did not like him very much, but the boy looked good, and at the beginning of the term, I went naked in the room, right from the start. I studied naked. When I woke up in the morning with an erection, I would get out of bed naked and parade around in front of Lanier.

The last weekend in September, Lanier was visiting his parents for the weekend, and wanted me to come along. Lanier had a sister, Helen, who was as crotchety as her older brother. When we first arrived, she opened the door to us. "You finally arrived," she said at the door and stepped back to let us pass. She was wearing a bathrobe. We hauled our suitcases up to Lanier's bedroom.

Lanier also had a brother, King, who was the youngest of the three siblings. King walked into the room while we were unpacking. He was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. I thought he was beautiful. A few minutes later, Lanier's parents arrived home. Their names - they had different last names - were Roberta Wentworth and Theo Armstrong. Theo had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder when the boys greeted him in the front hallway. He remarked on the heat. He was a handsome man. Roberta walked in behind him, dressed in a smart purple skirt suit. I was stunned by her attractiveness. She was not fat, but her hips were rounded with a soft fleshiness. Her face was tightly chiseled against the strong - though finely carved - bones of her face. She had big red lips. Her eyes were dark and deeply set just above her high cheekbones. Her hair formed a smooth brown bubble around her head.

"Let's go swimming," Theo said. "I'm going anyway." He headed towards the back of the house.

Lanier spoke up, saying swimming sounded good to him, and looked at me, who said, "I'll get my suit."

"You won't need a suit," Lanier told me. "Come on."

Roberta laughed as we headed out of the room. I heard her call up the stairs, "We're going swimming!"

When we got to the swimming pool in the back yard, Theo had just stripped naked and was diving into the pool. Lanier stripped, and then so did I. Roberta came out the back door. I turned my head around to look at her. She was still dressed. She waived gaily. Lanier jumped into the water. Roberta said, "Cristophe, would you like a beer?" I turned around. It felt odd to be standing there naked facing Lanier's mother. A beer sounded like a really good idea. "Sure," I said.

"It's right here." She pointed to a keg on the patio next to her. "Come on over." I padded over to her, feeling a little sheepish. She put a glass under the spigot and started to pump the handle at the top of the keg. "Jeez, it needs a lot of pumping," she said, "Here, you do it." She continued to bend down holding the glass while I pumped the mechanism, conscious in a fascinated way of my body swaying near her face. Finally, the glass was full, and we repeated the process for a second glass. Then we stood there together sipping our beers.

"It's nice out here in the backyard tonight," Roberta commented, and I agreed. "We're having Indian summer," she went on, "as you no doubt have noticed." When I started to set down my beer, half finished, she said, "Oh, you might as well finish your beer before you take the plunge." I drank the rest and then, while Roberta still sipped her beer, skipped to the edge of the pool and dived in.

While I bobbed in the pool, looking towards the house, King came running out of the house naked. "Hi, mom," he called as he ran and jumped into the pool, making a big splash. When I wiped the water from my eyes, I saw Roberta still standing by the keg drinking, and then Helen came out of the house. She was naked as well. I took a good look at her for the first time. She was cute. Her light brown hair, which had been down before, was put up in a chignon. She was slender and flat chested. While I continued to bob in the water, King, treading water, came up behind me and pushed his body gently up against my back. I could feel the boy's penis slip between my buttocks. The boy put his lips close to my neck and breathed, "Hi." My neck tingled from his breath. Helen sat on the edge of the pool and drank a beer. Roberta went back inside without joining us in the swim. After a short while, Theo got out of the pool, picked up a towel, and went inside. Then Lanier got out also, and stood by the pool drying off. I got out, and Lanier pointed to the stack of towels. I stood there drying off, enjoying being naked in front of Helen. It was now dark, but lights had gone on, lighting up the pool area. King got out and walked over to the towels. I saw that the boy's penis was erect. King, however, acted as if heedless of that condition. He stood there drying off his head, chest, and back with his penis thrusting itself up in front of his belly. While I dressed, Helen stood up and, still naked, walked sedately inside.

Everybody but King drank wine at dinner. King drank iced chai.

The children occupied the third floor of the house, on which there were three small garrets and a small bathroom off the narrow hallway. The second floor had a wide hallway, two large rooms (occupied respectively by Roberta and Theo) with a small room which, though it had its own door, served as the entranceway to the stairway to the third floor. When we were going to bed, Lanier stripped naked and walked out into the hallway headed for the bathroom. When he came back, I also went out there naked. I literally bumped into Helen in the little hall. She was naked also. "Watch where you're going, Cristophe," she said irritably. Then - incredibly - she slapped my arm - rather hard, in fact. Then she sashayed into the bathroom. I went back to Lanier's room, where he was already asleep, and got into the double bed with him. I woke up in the middle of the night, laying face down, and Lanier was on top of me, forcing his erect penis into my anus. I would have liked a little foreplay, but I lay there without resisting while he fucked me. It took him quite a while, it seemed to me, to finally ejaculate inside me.

In the morning, Lanier was gently shaking me awake. He was standing next to the bed. It was Saturday morning, he said to me, and we should start the day with a swim. I was game. We padded down the two flights of stairs and out to the back yard, where we found the rest of the family. Helen and King were bouncing up and down in the pool splashing each other with water by slamming their palms on the surface of the pool. Roberta and Theo were seated at a small, glass-topped patio table, drinking coffee. Theo was naked. Roberta was wearing a sweatshirt and cut-off shorts that exposed her fleshy and, I thought, exquisite thighs. There were a stack of coffee cups and a pot of coffee on the table between the two parents, and I sauntered over to request a cup of coffee. It was offered before I could ask, by Theo, who proceeded to pour me a cup and hand it to me. Holding the saucer in one hand, I stood in front of them sipping the refreshing warm liquid. Ms. Wentworth seemed to glance at my lower body.

"Look at that, Theo!" she exclaimed, throwing me into confusion, as the novelists say. Theo looked at me, too. "Tan lines," Roberta went on. She looked at my face. "You need to get an all-over tan, Cristophe," she said, smiling. I smiled back. When I finished the coffee, I reached across Roberta to set the cup and saucer down on the little table. I turned around then towards the pool and, as I walked away - incredibly - Roberta slapped my butt. I dived into the pool. These people were certainly forward. I swam across the pool, pulled myself up the side, and walked over to one end of the pool, where I lay down on my back, as if taking Roberta's advice. I put my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. The soft morning sunshine lay across me. I was in heaven. As I lay there, my penis started to swell somewhat. I had mixed feelings about that. But then I thought, what the hell, everybody here's so forward anyway. I lay there, basking in the sun, feeling my slightly swollen penis laying against my thigh. After a while a shadow spread across me, and I opened my eyes to see Lanier standing over me.

"Come on, Cristophe," he said, "Time for breakfast."

I stood up, my penis getting harder and bouncing around. I looked around the backyard. Roberta and Theo were not there anymore. King was striding towards the house, and Helen was standing across the length of the pool looking at me. I looked at her naked body. My penis was sticking stiffly out in front of me now. I took a running dive into the pool and swam the length of it. At the opposite end, I looked up from where I was grasping the edge, about to hoist myself up. I was looking directly up at the wedge of brown hair at the base of Helen's belly. She turned around casually and walked inside while I watched her.

Lanier handed me a towel when I got out of the pool and we stood there drying off for a few minutes. I followed Lanier through the back porch and into the kitchen. The family was already seated. Helen was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, but Theo and King were still naked. Lanier sat down. Roberta, who was still dressed, said, "We're not dressing for breakfast, Cristophe; you can just sit down." My seat was between Roberta, who was seated on one end, and Helen. During breakfast, I could feel myself getting tumescent again. Helen seemed to glance down at my lap from time to time, but I'm not sure: maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. What if she told her parents I had a hard on at the breakfast table? Oh, well, I thought, it probably wouldn't matter. King finished breakfast first, excused himself, and went into the living room to watch cartoons on TV. Fortunately, when Lanier suggested going up to his room, my erection had gone down. When we walked through the living room, King was lying naked on his side on the floor, watching TV. I stole a look at his long penis dangling down.

Helen came up the stairs behind us. "Want to see my yearbook, Cristophe?" she said when we got to the attic hallway. I said, sure, and she immediately invited me into her room. So I followed her in naked, while Lanier went into his room. She got out her school yearbook and while I sat at her vanity table, she stood next to me and pointed out all the pictures of her, as a cheerleader, on the swimming team, gymnastics, etc., etc. "Well, that's it," she said finally and slapped the book shut. I stood up, standing there naked in front of her, and thanked her. What a trip! I went back to Lanier's room. Lanier was lying on his side on the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over his naked body. He rolled onto his back. I lay on top of him. My penis became erect. He kissed me on the neck. I turned myself around so that my head was over his penis. I shoved my pelvis down over Lanier's face and poked my penis between his lips. He began to suck me. I put my mouth on his penis. He came almost immediately when I started sucking him. And then he fell asleep. I pulled my penis from his mouth and crawled out of bed. I went out into the hallway just as King arrived at the top of the stairs. He walked over to me, his long penis slapping against his thighs. My penis was so erect it seemed to me to be straining at the head. He stood in front of me. I leaned down and kissed him on the lips. The touch of his soft lips was achingly sweet. We pressed our lips together. We pressed our bodies together. His long penis was erect and pressing against my legs. I took hold of it and masturbated him - there in the hallway, until he came, shaking convulsively. The door of Helen's room opened, and we jumped apart and stood facing Helen, both of us - King and I - had erections. It didn't seem to faze her any more than if we had just been naked without erections. She walked past us to the bathroom.

I went into Lanier's room and found him sitting on the bed masturbating. I sat next to him and jacked him off and myself at the same time. Then I crawled into bed and fell asleep.

"Boys, your father and I are going out with Frieda and Tony Wood tonight." This sentence woke me up late in the afternoon. The light was on. I sat up, rubbed sleep from my eyes, and looked around. Lanier and King were sitting, still naked (none of us boys apparently had been dressed all day, and as I found out later, Lanier and King had been in the pool while I was sleeping), in the two chairs in the room, and Ms. Wentworth was standing in the doorway, back-lit by the hall light, dressed in a bra, heels, and a white half-slip over her pantyhose. She was putting on an earring, her arms raised on one side of her tilted head. I thought I could see the dark outline of her delta of Venus through the white fabric of her slip and the sheer hose. She looked so voluptuous. She turned and minced away on her heels.

"Stop gawking, Cristophe," Lanier said.

When the three of us went downstairs naked that evening, Helen was in the kitchen with a pound of hamburger on the kitchen counter and a frying pan on the stove. When she saw us, she made King prepare and fry the hamburgers. We drank beer with dinner. We boys never got dressed all that day, but Helen was still in jeans and a sweatshirt at the dinner table. After dinner, Lanier called his girlfriend on the phone. I hadn't known he had one. This was a little girl in the neighborhood, named Zorah. Zorah came over half an hour later. Helen, King, and I were already in the pool when Zorah and Lanier came out into the backyard. I got out of the pool and walked up to them to get introduced. I got a charge out of meeting this girl when I was naked. Zorah was petite and dark and pretty - rather extraordinarily beautiful, actually - especially for someone so young. She had long black hair that fell extravagantly about her slim shoulders. I was anxious, quite frankly, to get an eye full of Zorah naked. Zorah drew herself a beer from the keg, drank some of it, and then began to disrobe. I was in the pool watching as she undressed. Her figure was lithe and her skin dark olive. There was a mat of curly black hair on her plump vulva. Helen caught me gawking and said tartly, "See something you like, Cristophe?" I chuckled stupidly (sometimes I can be so gauche: it's depressing to think about how gauche I am sometimes - chortling inanely, for god's sake!). Then as I was bobbing in the water, Helen pulled herself out of the pool right in front of me, her legs spreading and displaying a bawdy view of her slightly gaping lips and third eye. When she stood up, she turned around and looked down at me. Then she put her nose in the air, turned around, and strode into the house. King swam up behind me and pressed himself against me, putting his arms around my waist. I could feel his tumescent penis sliding around under my ass. It got stiffer and stiffer as he began rubbing it back and forth between my thighs. Zorah and Lanier looked over at us. I waved at them and smiled. They went inside. King began rhythmic thrusting motions and after a few minutes grunted as he came, after which he lay back and floated on his back. I got out of the pool, drew a glass of beer, and sat down to drink it while I watched King floating on his back like a seal. When I finished the beer, I went inside. King was still floating. I went upstairs.

Lanier's bedroom door was shut. I knelt down at the keyhole and looked in. (I'm so bad. But even peeking through a keyhole isn't as bad as chortling inanely.) I had a direct view of the bed. Zorah was lying face down on the bed, and Lanier was lying on top of her, thrusting his pelvis up and down. I stood up just in time before Helen's door opened.

I went back downstairs and washed the dinner dishes. Why not be a model guest? I thought. Helen came into the kitchen, dressed in jeans and sweatshirt again, as I was finishing up. "You could have used the dishwasher," she said pointedly, making me feel like a fool.

"I'm not sure how to work it," I said.

"It's easy," she snorted and swished out of the room.

When I went into the living room a moment later, King and Helen were watching women's kickboxing on TV. King was still naked and sitting on the sofa, so I sat down on the floor and leaned back against the sofa, next to his legs. Helen got out a bottle of wine, and we all had a glass. Then Lanier came downstairs with Zorah. Lanier was naked, but Zorah had gotten dressed. They joined us watching TV. It was an interesting group, to be sure. I thought of going upstairs to masturbate, but then I kept thinking maybe something would break for me, as it were, and I could have a sexual adventure with someone other than myself.

When the kickboxing show ended, King went upstairs to his room, and Zorah said she was going home. Lanier said he'd walk her home, and he went upstairs to get dressed. I went also, and put on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, which I wore untucked and with the sleeves rolled up. I rolled a joint, and when Lanier got back, we went into the backyard to smoke it. While we were smoking it, Helen came out, and we shared it with her, which quieted her initial protests of us taking drugs in their own backyard. We sat outside for a while, enjoying being high. When we went back inside, Lanier's parents were just arriving home. They had the Woods with them. I was introduced to them as Cristophe, Lanier's houseguest and schoolmate. Frieda Wood turned out to be a knockout. She was slender and blond, with brown eyes, and a highly refined beauty. She wore her chin-length hair in a little flip. She wore a short - very short - black crepe dress. The proverbial little black dress. I suppose she was thirty-nine or forty; in other words, about the same age as Roberta Wentworth. Her husband was slender and handsome, with whitening fair hair and a goatee. Then Helen grabbed up the half-full bottle of wine we had been drinking, and Lanier and I followed her upstairs, where we went into Lanier's room to polish off the hooch. We decided to smoke another joint and put a towel under the door and opened the window. Lanier lit a candle and turned out the light. The three of us sat on the floor and smoked the joint and then lay back to enjoy it. We could hear party and pool noises below in the back yard. I wondered if the four of them were naked. The window faced the side yard, however, and so I couldn't look to see.

Lanier put on his pajamas and got into bed. Helen suggested taking the wine bottle to her room. I'd like to be relating now that Helen danced naked for me while I masturbated in front of her or some such thing. But that didn't happen. In fact, what did happen was that I started inappropriately disclosing about my infatuation with my boss - my mean boss. Naturally, Helen said I was foolish to entertain such ideas about someone who so obviously disliked me and someone so inappropriate at that.

Finally, when I went out into the hall, I encountered Frieda Wood. She was dressed as she had been earlier, in her little black dress, but her hair was damp. She said she was coming up to use the bathroom, because the one on the second floor was occupied. She looked at me intently.

"You're not one of the family," she said, peering at me over her wire-rim glasses as if just figuring that out. "Oh yes, you're Lanier's little boyfriend."

Which was a funny way to put it, I thought, since I thought of myself as more or less a grown man. I was in college, after all. Or did she mean that she assumed we were lovers? "I'm Cristophe," I said and grabbed Frieda Wood's hand to shake it. She fell against me - she was quite tipsy - and I placed my lips softly against the side of her neck while her bosom pressed against my chest. She started to lean away, but I put my arms around her back and held her close to me, still with my lips pressed to her neck. She stood still in my arms; I was supporting her weight against me. She pressed her lips to my neck, and we stayed that way for several minutes - with our lips pressed to each other's neck. My heart was racing, and at the same time, I felt a wonderful calm and peacefulness flowing through my whole body. It seemed like one of the most wonderful moments of my life, coming as it did, so unexpectedly.

When she started to move back, I tried to kiss her on the lips, but she leaned her head back to avoid it. "I have to wiz," she said and went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I went to bed.

In the morning, I woke up just as Lanier was walking naked out into the hallway on his way to the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. I got out of bed just as Roberta walked in. She was dressed in her very short cutoffs and her sweatshirt. There I was standing there in front of her in the altogether. My penis wasn't actually erect, but was rather swollen. Roberta talked with nonchalance about the schedule for seeing us off on the train back to school. I was at war with myself. I was terribly excited but also feeling foolish and embarrassed. Excited won out. My penis became fiercely erect, standing almost straight up. I stood there as if listening to her. I didn't know what she said, except for the last thing. "Don't worry about it," she told me, "I understand about boys," and left the room.

After lunch, Lanier's parents drove us to the train station. On the platform, when it was time to board, Theo shook my hand and then hugged Lanier. Roberta shook my hand, but I pulled her close to me and kissed the side of her neck (I know how good that feels). She immediately pulled back in surprise. But then she hugged me, and I pressed my lips to her neck again. We stood that way for a moment. Then she pushed me away and turned me around. Lanier and I got on the train.

My Wednesday afternoon class consisted of a group discussion about family relationships. One of the students, Cate O'Connell, had it in for me. I could hear her snorting at the comments I made in class. Once while I was speaking, she muttered, "You're such an argumentative one." She appeared to be about as tall as I am. She had thick dark brown hair, which she usually had pulled back in a ponytail. Every once in a while, she would undo it and redo it again. I noticed once an interaction between her and the young man behind her, who had gotten her hair in his face. Joking with her, he asked her how her hair was different now that it was refastened and what was wrong with it in the first place. "Probably nothing," she laughed good-naturedly. She was nice to him. I envied him having her hair in his face. The truth is I wanted Cate O'Connell. I looked at her sideburns and imagined the same long fine brown hair lining the interior of her buttocks. I looked at her large, strong hands and imagined them squeezing my testicles. I imagined her naked with a strong flat chest and a bushy delta of Venus.

The woman who sat behind me in that class--Tilda Gordon--was a pretty little fat lady, who I liked a lot, and we used to chat merrily during class and in the hallway before and after. She also had long thick brown hair. Her friends called her Gordo. She used to talk to me about the boys she had crushes on and wanted to date and was always trying to figure out ways to get them to ask her out. She would solicit my advice: "Since you're a man," she would say. She also kidded me about how much Cate O'Connell hated me. I told her about my fantasies about Cate. After the midterm, Tilda and I went out drinking and she told me about being in gym class with Cate. I was watching Tilda stuff herself with a huge meal. She was drinking beer and quite drunk.

"So, you've seen her naked in the locker room," I suggested.

"Naturally. I bet you want to know what she really looks like, don't you?"


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