The story of our conversion to naturism as distinct from stripping off on a public beach where nudity is permitted began about three years ago.
Until our three children left home to set up on their own, it was rare that we could take a holiday on our own. This was partly because it meant we paid the cost of accommodation when they were all saving a significant part of their earnings for a mortgage, but also because our children, and latterly their partners, enjoyed our company — a pleasure we wholeheartedly returned.
On the few occasions where we could indulge our mutual exhibitionist/voyeuristic streak, it was almost entirely in England, and only when the weather was warm.
I must admit that it made me wet when men — and a few women — blatantly looked lustfully at my naked pussy, especially when the men developed an erection, and sometimes wanked off. On those occasions, I naughtily encouraged them by opening my legs wider so that they could see my cunt lips.
My husband, Keith, usually became excited too. It made me feel proud to see the admiring glances for his beautiful penis that he received from some women, and if they sat down opposite us, I would sometimes masturbate him until he came.
It was all very innocent, of course, and we went no further than showing off our bodies for other people to admire, and enjoying the display of naked beauty in return. When we got back to whichever cottage or static caravan we were staying in, however, we would fuck each other silly, egging each other on by describing how much we wanted to fuck the random strangers we had met on the beach that afternoon. The intensity and number of my orgasms was spectacular, and I was so insatiable that, after he had ejaculated, poor Keith would have to lick my cunt or fuck me with a vibrator, sometimes for over an hour. We always made sure we had a supply of Viagra so he could have a second round of pounding my cunt.
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Three years ago, our son — our youngest child born about four years after his twin sisters — got married to his fiancé, and they moved into a flat in the nearby city, nearer to both their places of work. Why is it so much harder to get rid of sons than daughters? His sisters had fled the nest straight after uni, initially in a large shared apartment, but in separate flats a couple of years after serious boyfriends came on the scene. I never asked about the details of their sex lives, but from a few overheard conversations, I guessed they shared boyfriends as well as the apartment.
Free at last, after some discussion — only ten minutes, I recall — we decided to dip our toes into the world of naturism with a view to making it our permanent holiday choice. After much internet browsing, we plumped on a resort in southwestern France on the coast close to the town of Les Sables d’Olonne. As a resort, it seemed to have several advantages. It was easy to get to by car — we lived about thirty minutes from the Plymouth Roscoff ferry port. It was managed by a British couple, and it was adults-only. Nothing is more likely to put a damper on any extra-marital sexual dalliances, and to be honest, we were both hoping for something that took us beyond the strict boundaries imposed by our wedding vows.
I wasn’t actually thinking of fucking, but more along the lines of giving blow jobs to attractive men, or receiving oral sex. I don’t know what was in Keith’s mind, but I was eagerly awaiting to see someone rimming him like in the porn videos we watched, or two women feasting on his cock until he exploded over their tits.
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When we arrived at the resort, and leaving our car in the car park by the entrance, the manager greeted us and briefly took us through the rules, which could be summarized as 1. No mobile phones, 2. Panties or briefs in the restaurant, cafeteria and indoor bar, 3. No fucking in public, 4. No means no, 5. Condoms for anal sex, otherwise bareback, and 6. No antisocial behaviour likely to cause offence.
We left our bag in our chalet with the small number of things we might need — toiletries and medications, including a good supply of Viagra for Keith, underwear and a couple of dresses for me, and trousers and shirts for Keith for when we went into the local town. When we signed in, they gave us a wristband with a chip that would clock up our purchases, mainly food and drink. Most of the time, whilst on the resort, we would be completely naked.
Our first port of call was the pool area where we could relax with a drink after the drive from Roscoff, and enjoy people watching, whilst passing remarks of a salacious nature. It was fun to discuss who we might get to know intimately over the next week — we had agreed when we booked that we could fuck anyone, male or female, if the opportunity arose.
It came as a surprise that many our fellow naturists — we would no longer call ourselves nudists — were similar in age to us. There were a few younger people in their thirties and forties, and a significant number of retirees. Apart from people who looked English, the most common nationality was German. Everyone was deeply tanned all over. We soon learned from an elderly English gentleman who we first met in the jacuzzi that true naturists spend most of their lives naked except where it was necessary to wear clothes. We also learned the true nature of the path we had embarked on in the most intimate way possible — by fucking him and his wife, our first extra-marital sexual partners that week or since, but not our last. That is to jump ahead a little in our story, but not too far for those who want to read about the sex.
We were surprised that there appeared to be no overtly sexual behaviour, in contrast to the nudist beaches we had visited back home. There was no attempt, though, on anyone’s part to cover up their nakedness. On the contrary, everyone seemed very relaxed. Many of the ladies had spread their legs to show off their cunts in all their many variations, and most of the men became erect at some stage in response to the explicit display around them. One thing that puzzled us was that every so often a couple, usually a man and a woman, would get up and retire in the direction of the chalets. We were soon to find out why.
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After a couple of hours, Keith suggested we should wander over to one of the hot tubs — I think he needed to play with his cock, although it’s bad form to ejaculate in the tub if you’re a man. The one we chose had a single occupant, a distinguished elderly gentleman with wavy silver grey hair and a goatee beard. He stood up when he saw us and offered me his hand to help me into the water. When you’ve had a surfeit of cocks, one more wouldn’t normally turn your head, but this one was magnificent. It was about seven inches long and quite thick, circumcised with a nice shiny pinky/purple head a bit bigger across than the shaft. As he stood there, it was ramrod straight, and my tummy gave a little jolt as I wondered what it would feel like thrusting in and out of my cunt. What was most distinctive was the stainless-steel cock rung around the base of the shaft, which emphasized the size of his balls. It also had a bulge which would rub your clitoris if you were fucking face to face (we did).
After we had made ourselves comfortable, Steven — that was his name — told us he had been here on his own for most of the previous week, but that his wife would join him tomorrow. He had been an academic (actually head of the history department at a major university) and when he retired at sixty-five, he and his wife did what they had long planned, and become naturists.
When he heard it was our first time, although we had visited nudist beaches in England, he asked what our first impressions were. When we remarked on the apparent absence of sexual activity, despite the unashamed display of arousal in both men and women.
“Ah Teresa,” he said, “you’ve been reading too much about the goings-on at Cap d’Agde. Naturists are not swingers for whom most of the excitement comes from doing something forbidden by societal convention. You will not see any public orgies while you are guests at the resort. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lot of fucking, most of it with relative strangers.”
When I raised an eyebrow, he continued, “If you are set on becoming true naturists, you need a crash course in its fundamentals.”
At its core," he said, "naturism is about rejecting the artificial rules that society imposes. Most of what we accept as normal — the rules, the shame, and taboos about bodily desires, that is, sex, are unnatural. They were designed as a means of controlling the masses.”
He paused for a moment to let us take in what he was saying.
“Naturism is living very simply, and by what is actually real. If we're hungry, we eat. If we're tired, we sleep. If we're sexually aroused, well, we fuck.”
Keith was quiet for a moment, and then asked, “You mean you have sex whenever you want to with anyone who is agreeable, and not necessarily your husband or wife?”
“Quite simply, yes,” Steven replied, “and with your permission, I would like to take Teresa back to my chalet very soon and make love to her. Only with your permission, of course. Consent of both wife or husband and their partner is essential. I’m sure that Teresa is going to come with me when I ask if you say it’s okay. You can see by the flush on her neck and breasts that she is aroused.”
I gulped because he was right. I had been thinking for some time what his cock would feel like inside me. And I wanted to suck it terribly.
“What about disease, or the risk of pregnancy?” Keith asked.
“You were asked to make sure you were tested before your booking was accepted, and you will be asked to be retested every year. Sex with anyone whose status is unknown is discouraged.”
“At our age, pregnancy is most unlikely,” he laughed, “but, if necessary, women will make sure they are adequately protected. As you were told, condoms are only recommended for anal sex because the normal microbiological flora of the gut can cause nasty infections if they are introduced into the vagina.”
“I have a question,” I said, somewhat shakily, “what about your close family other than wife or husband, or friends who are not naturists?”
“That’s simply answered,” Steve replied, “we wear a simple robe if friends who are not naturists come to the house. Close relatives, that is, brother or sisters, or adult children, are slightly more complicated. Because we believe that sex is a basic way of giving and receiving pleasure with anyone to whom we are attracted, and who returns that attraction, we do not consider incest to be wrong, as long as there is no risk of pregnancy. The taboo against incest was because even primitive people recognized that the offspring of close relatives were less fit for survival. Actually, as became obvious in the royal houses of Europe, marriages between cousins were a bad idea. That is why the Hapsburgs died out because they simply became infertile.”
“Enough talk,” he said. “Tomorrow, when my wife has arrived, we will invite you to dinner, and then we will go back to our chalet for a night of intense and divine fucking. Teresa and I are leaving now, Keith. We will be in chalet number 169. Come and reclaim your wife in an hour and a half. The knowledge that I have been inside her, giving her many intensely pleasurable orgasms, and that her cunt will be full of my semen, is going to make you more aroused than you can imagine. I know because I’ve been there — and when you fuck her while she is still in a post-coital dream state, you will understand why the naturist life offers something that transcends the boring life of convention from which you have escaped.”
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“You are so beautiful, Teresa,” Steve murmured as he kissed my boobs. “And shortly, I am going to make love to your delicious pussy until you cum for me in rapture. I guess you are a squirter, coating your lover’s face with your heavenly nectar.”
O God, Steve was so skilled, and he soon brought me to the peak of ecstasy with his lips and tongue. He had inserted two fingers in my cunt and his thumb was pressing at the entrance to my anus, and I was carried away on a tide of bliss as my first orgasm overwhelmed me. I did indeed squirt.
As I descended the slopes of post orgasmic delight from the summit of a truly mind-blowing climax, I cried out, “Fuck me now Steve, I need to feel you inside me, please possess my cunt with your beautiful cock, and mark me as yours with your hot seed.”
With part of my mind, I wondered if sex with Keith was ever going to fulfil me again, or was this opening a crack in our marriage, a crack that would become a deep ravine and eventually tear us apart?
As if he could read my mind, Steve tried to reassure me. “I know you wonder that when I fuck you, an experience so memorable that you will always remember the moment you truly became a naturist, that making love to Keith will be flat and boring.”
“On the contrary,” he murmured in my ear, "once you are freed from your conventional belief about sex, and realize that fucking someone you are attracted to is to celebrate what it means to be alive, sex with Keith will be better than it has ever been for you. The knowledge that you have reached the heights of pleasure with other men will be a source of pride for him. The intensity of his orgasms when you make love will, like yours, be something truly exceptional.”
“It will be my privilege to be the first of what will be many lovers over the years. In some years, it may be only two or three, in others there will be many who possess your body for a while. They will all be different, but with all of them you will experience sexual pleasure and fulfilment on a plane that you have never imagined up to now. Not the transient excitement of swingers, but a deep communion with your lover and with the universe.”
“Sit back against the pillows so that we can both watch and savour the visual and sensual beauty as I slowly penetrate your glorious body until we are as fully united physically as it is possible to be.”
Steve positioned me near the edge of the bed, supported by pillows, and with my feet on the side of the bed, with my thighs spread wide to give him total access to my cunt. My pussy lips were swollen with arousal, and I was dripping wet, ready for him to take me. I temporarily forgot Keith in my overwhelming desire to be fucked by this astonishing man. I was deeply in lust and I wanted him so much, my cunt ached to be filled.
He stood at the edge of the bed, six feet of gorgeous mature manhood, and with his beautiful cock ramrod straight and just an inch away from my hole. He rubbed the end of his glans up and down my slit from my anus to my clit. Then he placed it at the entrance to my cunt and held it there for what seemed like an eternity, before slowly sliding it into my body until all seven inches were embraced by my cunt walls, his cock ring was pressing against my clit, and his heavy balls were resting in my anus.
The feeling of him inside me, not moving but just stretching my cunt, was incredible, and when he began small circular movements of the shaft, firecrackers went off in my head.
“Fuck me,” I cried out, “make love to me, my darling, make me yours forever.” (The words we utter while fucking are just a measure of unrestrained arousal, and no doubt for a while we are in love with our current lover to the exclusion of anyone else — I was overwhelming in love for several hours, even when Keith and I were fucking like rabbits later that afternoon).
Steve fucked me without pause for over half an hour, sometimes withdrawing his cock almost completely before thrusting it hard deep into me until the head was pushed beyond my cervix, sometimes going slowly and deliberately. Throughout my glorious ravishment, he seemed to be telepathically aware of what I needed to increase the indescribable pleasure even higher. My cunt was on fire, wonderful sensations were spreading throughout my body, and my mind was in thrall to the man with whom I was completely united in one incandescent flesh. I lost count, but I had repeated orgasms of an intensity that was light years greater than anything I had experienced in all my fifty-five years.
At last Steve thrust fully into me, and I could feel his balls contract and his cock throb as he ejaculated pulse after pulse of hot semen deep inside me. I was by now floating on a cloud of extreme bliss but feeling him ejaculate drove me over a new summit of ecstasy until I nearly passed out.
Sex with all my lovers since that day has always been wonderful, but I have never quite reached that state of exaltation again. It was an experience that I will never forget, and I remain deeply grateful for having such an exceptional lover as Steve for my first time.
For a while, we cuddled in the bed, kissing passionately and whispering words of love and desire, and eternal devotion. Eventually, Steve showed me how to make love to his cock and balls with my hands and mouth. As it had been with the way he had fucked me, he was gentle and skilful at making it a beautiful experience for both of us.
He got me to fondle and suck his balls, before running my lips along the length of his shaft until he was throbbing with pleasure and close to cumming. He then put just the head of his cock in my mouth and told me how to increase his enjoyment by using my mouth and tongue. When he was close to orgasm, he asked me to wrap my fingers around his shaft and masturbate him until he flooded my mouth with his delicious semen. He did taste perfect.
When he had recovered his senses, he pushed me down on the bed and started to fuck me missionary fashion, kissing me deliciously all the time. In our passion we had forgotten what time it was, and when Keith opened the door and came into the room, Steve was thrusting hard into me and filling me with another load of cum, while I screamed in my elation as I reached yet another climax.
I was still in a state of euphoria when Keith almost carried my back to our chalet, where we made love for the rest of the afternoon, by the end of which my cunt was full of four loads of semen, so much, in fact, that it was running down my thighs.
Steve had been right. Keith’s and my fucking were different and more intense and pleasurable because we were different. Keith told me that when he saw Steve pumping hard into me as we rode our mutual orgasm, he didn’t feel humiliated, but experienced a flood of new emotions of delight and arousal that were qualitatively different in nature. His eyes were opened as he grasped what he had been told by Steve that sex was a way that naturists celebrated their oneness with each other and with nature. The pleasure he realized did not come from the excitement of transgressing the rules imposed by society in the way of swingers, but from the temporary union for mutual delight of members of a community at one with each other and their minds and bodies.
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What happened the following night will have to wait for the next chapter. But to whet your appetite, I can reveal that we enjoyed hours of wonderful sex with Steve and his wife, and did things we had never dreamed of before. We also experienced the pleasure of sex with two other people each later in the week. In my case one of them was a woman.
What happened when we were back home and told our friends and families that we had embraced naturism and what that meant will bring this story to a natural end, although we hope that your memories when reading it will give you many orgasms, and maybe inspire you to join us.
Teresa and Keith.
