Chapter 28

Several weeks have passed. It’s now late July, and the Wilkins family and their friends are in upstate New York in the Adirondack Mountains. NSFW.

Whispering Pines Family Camp - 2006

Robert

Sitting out of the hot sun on the cabin’s screened porch, Bob sipped from a bottle of Saranac IPA, watching his three girls play beanbag toss and lawn darts. The twins’ nude bodies covered in vibrant streaks of colorful paint, while Kristy, the oldest, abstained from body paint, opting instead for a wide-brimmed straw sunhat and sunblock. Their older male partners kept score as groups of naked teens and their parents entertained themselves on the wide-open patch of grass between the old cabins.

He was in a pensive mood again. Hyper-aware of his surroundings in upstate New York’s Adirondack Mountains, Bob was doing his best to relax. His son, Kevin, was out on a nude trail run among the tall white pine trees, acting like a Mohawk warrior with a group of boys his age. While his wife, JoAnn, was at a women’s meeting, no doubt having cocktails and gossiping about kids and husbands.

Kevin hadn’t understood Bob’s joke about this rustic place reminding him of Camp North Star. He just got a “whatever, Dad” look—don’t embarrass me.

Bob glanced at the paperback book on his lap, Brad Thor’s Blowback, the fourth in the Harvath series. He’d read the first hundred pages since they’d arrived five days ago. The scene out on the field looked wholesome. A group of tan and sunburned folks from all over the United States, Canada, and Europe was enjoying group nudity, the very essence of naturism—no clothes, outdoors, and being social.

Yet Bob knew differently. Since they’d arrived, he’d had different partners each night. Same with his wife—she partied, hooked up, and was used. For Bob, mostly old friends like Liv and Jennifer, but some new ones too. His teenagers had mixed in with the adults, each participating at their own comfort level and very popular.

He came back to the question he’d been asking himself privately since he’d returned from Iraq in late May. Was it worth it? The radical home nudity experiment, and all the changes the family had gone through to build better relationships within the family. JoAnn had already mentioned the issues she had with the book author’s motives, some of the awkward rules, and Dr. Levenson’s unwillingness to accept criticism or answer questions.

Bob spotted the attractive brunette, wearing dark sunglasses, with a semi-sheer wrap tied around her, just before she stopped in front of the cabin.

“Hello,” she said in accented English. “Is this Mo-hawk cabin? I’m looking for Hannah.” She fumbled with a piece of paper and a leather carryall. Early twenties, he guessed—olive skin, dark chestnut hair, and a pair of shapely legs. The accent was Italian or Greek. He went with Italian; he’d been to Greece recently, and she didn’t sound like she was from there.

Bob set his book aside and started to stand just as the screen door flew open.

“Marina, you’re here!” His sister’s bare chest led the way, heavy tits bouncing as the two women embraced on the porch steps. “Why didn’t you call? I would have met you,” Hannah said.

Marina glanced at Bob, who had just spotted a silver ring on her right hand. She was very pretty in that Mediterranean way—sexy and confident.

“No phone service up here,” Marina said, fanning herself. “The office gave me your cabin name. I’ve been wandering around. It’s so hot.”

Hannah finally acknowledged her brother. “This is Bob. I’ve told you about him. You’re staying with us, so sit. Bob will get us something cold from inside,” Hannah said with a smile.

Bob took Marina’s carryall inside and returned with two more cold IPAs. Hannah clicked on the floor fan, immediately insisting that Marina would be much better off shedding her wrap. Nude, like her and Bob.

Marina blushed at the suggestion. Bob couldn’t see her eyes behind her dark Jackie O sunglasses, but the sudden color in her cheeks was unmistakable. Sitting next to Hannah’s large chest, almost any other girl would look small up top.

Hesitant but feeling the oppressive late-July heat, Marina carefully slipped the wrap off and crossed one shapely leg over the other, naked. She took a tentative sip of the Saranac IPA, immediately making a face at the aggressive bitterness of the local beer. She set the bottle down, her gaze drifting out toward the naked crowd gathered on the sunbaked grass.

Hannah briefly explained that she had met Marina in Rome back in April while on a trip for her Department of Defense job. Marina nodded, smiling as she took another sip of the bitter beer, then pressed the cold bottle between her firm, round breasts.

“Yes, Rome was fun,” Marina said. “Did Hannah tell you she met the Holy Father? No, probably not. He was very impressed with her and Colonel Carter.”

Marina left it at that, offering no elaboration. Sitting back, Bob began piecing it all together—this new person and the vague things Hannah had let slip over the months. Out on the grassy field, his youngest daughter, Lynn, had just lost her game of lawn darts and was laughing as one of the older guys she’d lost to playfully groped her small budding breasts.

He was aware that his sister’s contract job as an archaeologist with the Air Force had turned darker. She had been involved in a project that even he, with his Top Secret security clearance, could not know about. Hannah could tell him only in the vaguest terms.

“No, she didn’t,” he said, giving Hannah a look.

Marina kept talking. He noted that she had shaved her mons, visible where her legs were crossed.

“Oh. Well, she also made quite the find in Greece. I visited her dig on Kythira just in time. The team uncovered a chamber dedicated to Aphrodite that held an exquisite marble statue and a beautiful stone mosaic floor,” she said.

“Bob, she exaggerates. It was a team effort. Tess and Dr. Hughes were there. So was Kristy,” Hannah said, proud yet modest; he could see.

He listened as they talked about archaeology in Greece—Armed Aphrodite’s lost temple and a glorious solstice party. Hannah finished her beer, then stood.

Out on the grass, Sarah Miller won her game of beanbag toss, accepting a French kiss from a handsome dad as a reward. The Millers had been invited to attend as prospective Upstate Naturist Club members and had flown up with them from Charlotte to Syracuse.

Hannah put a hand on his thigh. “I’ll tell you more later. I’ll be writing papers for the rest of the year. Let’s go to the pool and cool off,” she said, ending the inquisition. Her face weary at the mention of work.

Bob went with them. Leaving the glass bottles behind on the porch, he grabbed a beach towel and an old Army Boonie hat. Liv said she’d be down at the pool with her mom and kid about now.

As the three of them walked nude across the hot grass toward the clubhouse and pool, Bob put an arm around Hannah’s waist. The camp was thirty years old. The owners planned to start a long-overdue upgrade to the cabins and facilities at the end of the summer, which would take a year or more to complete. His dad had said that next year, the Naturist Club planned to meet in Florida.

Sister Marina in Greece

Kristy

Sixteen-year-old Kristy watched her Dad and Aunt Hannah leave the cabin with Sister Marina, beach towels over their shoulders. It looked like they were heading to the pool. She made her toss, the blue beanbag sliding through the hole. Marina was different, in a good way; they’d met in Greece in June at Aunt Hannah’s dig.

“Sorry, Mr. Carter, I need to go,” Kristy said to the bearded older man she was up against, a University professor he was a friend of her grandpa Jim’s.

He’d been eyeing her jiggling breasts as she tossed and had a half-mast boner. His grandkids were around here somewhere, playing or at the pool.

“See you in the clubhouse tonight?” he asked, disappointed. He stepped in close for a hug. She didn’t object as he ran a hand over her firm, teen breasts.

“Sure, you bet,” she said. He was kind and had shown an interest in listening to what she had to say.

Kristy had come to camp telling herself she’d be less of a whore. Her thoughts were on Nathan, the older college guy she’d barely seen this summer. A godly man that she really liked, she was trying to be more virginal, less slutty, in her approach to sex.

She grabbed her beach bag and sarong from where they lay on the grass and followed. Sarah was making out with a handsome dad, his boner impressive. Another fallen virgin, with her pretty Emma Watson–style looks — slender runner’s build, dark brown hair, expressive eyes, and an innocent yet alluring face — she’d been popular around the clubhouse this week. Her dad, Scott, made the devil’s bargain with other fathers who had cute teenage daughters.

A glance at the twins, Jenny and Lynn, playing lawn darts with a group of men. The twins had red wristbands along with the green ones they all wore. The two were popular yet treated with a level of kindness by the men that surprised Kristy at first. Every girl is someone’s daughter—a key rule when it comes to moderating club behavior—and every woman is someone’s mom or wife, so be kind as you screwed and groped each other, was the sentiment she’d learned.

Kristy watched her Dad disappear between the cabins, following a well-worn path to the clubhouse and pool. It was nice having him here and not in Iraq. She’d been worried, afraid of what might happen. He was safe now, and she told herself she wanted to be a better daughter now that he was home.

“Hey, wait up,” Sarah yelled as she broke from the man’s grasp. She dodged some other game players and a girl with a bow and arrow.

Kristy gave Sarah a questioning look as her friend adjusted her floppy hat.

“I’m hot, and Mr. Palmer wanted to take me to his cabin, to you know...,” she said. Her short legs matched Kristy’s hurried pace.

Have sex. Sarah didn’t have to say it. Kristy had ‘been there, done that’ twice this week already. So much for not acting the slut. Aunt Hannah had advised her to just enjoy the sex while she could. The green hospital-style wristband on her left wrist was a reminder that all options were open to her.

They stopped at the pool’s metal security gate. Kristy searched the crowd. There must be at least fifty nude bodies around the modest-sized lap pool, lounging on chairs and sitting at round metal tables under big green umbrellas. Another twenty people were in the water, kids of all ages playing frisbee and hitting a beach ball while a few adults lounged around the sides, socializing, plastic drink cups in hand.

A hand waved from the far side, their actress friend from the Florida nudist resort. Liv, her sisters like to call her Arwen, sat under a big sunhat, her long beautiful body shiny with sunscreen, surrounded by her dad and a few other familiar faces, including Sarah’s mom. She and Sarah pushed through the gate, stopping at the bar for a couple of cold Diet Pepsis.

The pool area was a total clothes-free zone, no textiles allowed, a sign said. Kristy ogled the flesh from behind her gold-tinted Aviator sunglasses: young and old bodies, heavy swaying tits and perky nipples, soft bellies and tight six-packs, golden all-over tans next to pale untouched skin, thick swinging cocks and shorter ones half-hard in the heat. Amorous couples lounged skin-to-skin, kissing deeply, hands roaming freely—fingers teasing breasts, stroking cocks, cupping asses—but no outright fucking. That was reserved for the small room behind the bar.

Cold drinks in hand, the two sexy teens strutted, eyes following them, to the corner their family and friends had claimed.

Robert

Bob rubbed sunscreen along her narrow freckled shoulders. He and Marina sat at the end of his chaise lounge chair, Liv was on his right, and Hannah across from them. Caroline, Ben, and Jennifer played a card game at a table, while young Courtney Sinclair sat on his dad Jim’s lap.

Marina’s posture remained perfectly straight as he brushed aside curly chestnut hair, then worked his way down her spine. He felt her body tense when he reached the lower curve. He’d only just met Marina and was deeply intrigued by this mystery friend of his sister’s. She possessed an aloofness, as if she were constantly considering her words and analyzing them. She was present in the moment, nude like everyone else, yet she didn’t ogle or comment like the other women.

“Everything okay?” he asked, resting his hand on the small of her back. He glanced over at Hannah, who was casually applying sunblock to her own heavy breasts and chest while watching Bob and Marina with an amused look.

“It’s bene – good,” she replied in Italian.

Bob didn’t say anything. He just worked the lotion along the top of the pale flesh at the crest of her butt cheeks. Marina sat up straight, hands resting in her lap.

Nearby, Liv was waving at someone across the pool deck. “Kristy and Sarah are here,” she called out.

Bob nodded, smoothing the lotion and entirely enjoying the feel of her soft skin.

“Perhaps Marina will allow you to do her chest?” Hannah said, smiling at Bob from behind her Oakley sunglasses.

Bob’s cock had grown stiff as he sat directly behind the pretty Italian woman. That surprised him; he usually maintained much better control. Marina fidgeted with her silver ring, then tossed her head back and took a deep breath.

“Okay, just this one time. He is your brother.”

Bob didn’t quite follow her logic, but he certainly wasn’t going to object. “Face me,” he said, momentarily forgetting about his thick erection.

The young woman turned, straddling the end of the chaise lounge, her eyes still completely hidden behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. Her breasts were a perfect handful, round, and tipped with flat dark nipples, her posture immaculate, her waist narrow. Squirting more SPF 50 lotion into his hands, Bob worked from her delicate collarbone down over her left breast, cupping the pale, soft flesh. Marina held her breath as he ran his palm over her ribs and down her flat belly to the soft edge of her pubic mound.