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Dude, Where are My Clothes?

Moral - Don't leave your clothes unattended, especially on a nudist beach!
The sun was shining brightly as I strolled along the Brighton seafront. The shingle beach was already full of families, although I’d always thought that Brighton’s lack of sand was a bit of a drawback if you were a kid – what was the point of the seaside if you couldn’t make sandcastles? But I wasn’t interested in sandcastles today: I just wanted to get down to the nudist area, get my kit off, and settle down to do a bit of revision while enjoying the unique pleasure of being nude outdoors in the sun without the fear of being stared at (too much) or arrested. I did sometimes sunbathe topless in the back garden of the South London house I shared with a group of other students, but it wasn’t quite the same as getting completely naked – and besides, I liked swimming in the sea, which you couldn’t do in Camberwell.

With exams not too far away, I’d brought some revision with me so I wouldn’t be completely wasting my day, and had already managed to do some work on the train down from London. My bag was bulging with folders and books, so I was looking forward to dumping it all on the beach. I was just wearing a strappy t-shirt and shorts over bra and panties, though like I said I was looking forward to getting rid of these pretty quick.

The nudist beach was surprisingly crowded - as usual mostly with middle aged blokes and women plus a fair smattering of exhibitionist gay guys with shaved bodies. For non-Brits, I should explain that Brighton is well known for its LGBT population – not all south coast resorts are quite so extravagantly welcoming of that sort of thing. In any case, it was fun to look at the guys’ bodies, even if there wasn’t much chance of their cocks getting hard at the sight of me, in my clothes or not.

Anyway, I found a handy looking spot, not too close to anybody else, and gratefully unrolled my towel and dumped my bag on it. Straight away, I took off my top and unclipped my bra, sliding the straps down my arms to free my boobs. I undid my shorts and slipped them off along with my panties, and shoved everything into my bag. I spent a few minutes smoothing sun-cream all over my body, noting wryly that I had rather more tan-lines than some of the other people around me. Obviously they were locals, and had rather more opportunities for nude sunbathing than I did.

Settling down on my towel, I read for a bit, before the warm sun (and not very interesting revision notes) made me doze off for a while. When I woke up, I decided to go for a swim to wake me up a bit. I bundled all my stuff together in my bag to stop anything blowing away, and picked my way gingerly across the pebbles down to the sea.

As usual, it felt jolly cold at first, and I gasped as the first few waves splashed up over my legs. I waded in until the water was just lapping around my pussy, then gritted my teeth and dived right in. After a few strokes I got used to the cold, and ended up staying in for quite a long time, swimming up and down and enjoying the sensation of being in the water without my swimsuit.

After a while, I decided I really ought to get out and do a bit more work, so I swam back to where I’d left my stuff. Or at least, where I thought I’d left it. I was certain I’d noted where it was according to the buildings along the sea-front, and by the people who were nearby, but now things didn’t seem to match up. The naked bodies all started to look the same, and there wasn’t any sort of space where I thought I had been.

I’d walked up and down the beach several times before I began to get really panicky. I was now convinced that I’d covered the whole area where I had been, and my stuff really wasn’t there any more. I was standing here naked, with absolutely nothing - no clothes, no phone, no money, no identification – nothing!

Normally, if I’d had something stolen, I’d have gone to the police, but I could hardly just wander through the streets of Brighton stark naked, asking for directions to the nearest police station. Even in cosmopolitan Brighton, that would get me noticed. It may also get me arrested, which would be one way of getting hold of a policeman, but it may also get me on the front page of the local paper, which was less desirable.

No, there was only one thing to do, and that was to ask someone for help. British people, even naked British people, are generally only too pleased to help out once they know you’re in trouble, and I’d surely get sympathy from someone. All I needed was someone who could lend me a towel and call the police on her or his phone – I felt sure that somehow something could be sorted out if I could just get myself covered up! One or two people had glanced at me as I was wandering up and down, but they probably thought I was just showing off my body, and didn’t want to catch my eye.

So who should I ask? I decided I’d much rather ask a woman, and preferably someone a bit older than me, who’d be more inclined to be sympathetic, I hoped. I looked around, but couldn’t immediately see anyone who looked right. Then I caught sight of a girl who looked a bit older than me and who was rootling about in her bag; something about her looked nice, and after squirming for a second or two I decided I had to say something.
I took a few steps towards her, and my shadow fell over her face. Instinctively she looked up, and seemed a bit surprised when she realised I was looking at her.

“I’m really, really sorry,” I began, not really knowing if this was the right thing to say, “But I wonder if you could just help me. You see, I think my bag has been stolen, and it had all my clothes and my towel and my phone and everything in it. I just need something to put on, and maybe you could call the police or something”. I tailed off, aware that I must look like a complete idiot.

But luckily she was immediately helpful.

“Oh God,” she said, “that’s awful. Come on, let’s sort you out. Here, take this,” and she gave me her towel to wrap around me. As soon as I was covered up, I felt a bit better, and watched as she got her phone out. Then she swore.

“Shit, it’s out of charge. I know I should have plugged it in last night. Look, do you want to see if someone else has a phone. Though hold on, it might be better if we find you something to wear first. I know I’ve got something in the car, and it’s only just up on the street here. If you have to go and talk to the police, you’d be better off wearing something more than a towel. And look, why don’t I go with you if you like – it’ll be easier with two of us.”

I couldn’t believe she was being so kind, and was more than happy for her to take control of the situation. Maybe I shouldn’t have been noticing things like this, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from flicking back to her gorgeous big firm breasts that jiggled nicely as she moved, and her tan that was almost all-over, except for a very small pale patch around her cleanly-shaved pussy. So even when she wasn’t on this part of the beach, she didn’t wear much to sunbathe. I felt a bit ashamed of my tan-lines.

She picked up a pretty yellow sun-dress and pulled it on over her head, without bothering with a bikini or anything first.

“That’ll do,” she smiled, when she caught me watching her. “I don’t see the point in putting on anything else, do you?” To be honest, the dress was pretty low cut and the tops of her large breasts bulged out of the top. I could see the outline of her dark nipples through it; the tips looked hard and pointy, pressing against the material.

“Let’s go then,” she said, interrupting my reverie. She gathered up her stuff and led the way across the promenade and up a couple of side streets to where her car was parked. While we walked, I told her my name, and she said hers was Julie, and that she lived in a village just outside Brighton.

Once we got to her car, I stood slightly self-consciously in her towel, while she took a bag out of the boot. As she handed it to me, she looked a bit sheepish.

“I’m afraid this is all I have,” she admitted, as out of the bag I pulled a slightly crumpled French maid outfit. “I got it for a fancy dress party the other week,” she said in a rush. “It’s all in one piece, you just step into it and it has poppers up the back. But at least it should cover you up until we can get you sorted.”

I held it out and looked at it, unable for once to think of anything to say. To be honest, I did wonder whether it might not be better to go to the police station wrapped in a towel than wearing a tarty fancy dress costume. But at least once it was on I’d be decent, more or less.

Luckily, there weren’t many people around, and she shielded me with the towel while I quickly stepped into the costume and wriggled it up over my tits. She quickly did up the poppers at the back and stood back to eye the results. She had the good grace to look a bit embarrassed at the effect. I felt like a right tart. But I knew she was just trying to be helpful.

“Oh Christ, it’s a bit loose,” I said, wiggling a bit and hoping it wasn’t going to slip off.

“Well, I must admit I did fill it out a bit better than you do, but I quite like the effect when you lean over,” she commented with a smile.

I looked down and it was true: when I leant forward my bare tits were just there for anyone to see. I was embarrassed to see that my nipples were a bit hard; I think Julie had noticed too.

“Come on then,” she said. “The police station is along this way.”

We walked along a couple of little streets – she obviously knew her way round Brighton well, because I had no idea where we were. I began to feel a bit worried again. Suddenly, she stopped outside a quiet little pub.

“You look a bit pale, Annie,” she said. “Come on, let’s have a quick drink. You might be in shock”.

The only shock I was likely to feel was if I met anyone I knew while dressed as a French maid, but I did feel a bit like a drink.

“Ok, just a quick one,” I said.

The sign on the door said, “Closed,” but Julie peered through the glass.

“There’s someone moving in there,” she said, and pushed on the door, which swung open. A young guy was wiping down the tables.

“We’re not actually open yet, ladies” he said.

“I’m really sorry” said Julie “But my friend here’s had her bag stolen and she’s a bit in shock – couldn’t I just get her something for medicinal purposes?”

They guy looked a bit concerned, but he also couldn’t take his eyes off my ridiculous outfit.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said, “Just a sec,” and he bolted the door. “I don’t want anyone else coming in before I’m properly open,” he explained.

We went up to the bar, and Julie turned to me.

“Well, I think this round is going to have to be on me,” she said with a grin. “What’ll you have?”

I heaved myself onto a bar-stool, careful not to let the stupid short skirt rise up too far. “I’ll have a glass of red wine” I decided. I’m normally an ale drinker, but I fancied something a bit stronger.

“You’d better make that a large glass” said Julie “And a small one for me.”

“If you buy two large glasses, you get the rest of the bottle free,” said the barman. “It’s a special offer before 2 o’clock.”

“Go on then,” said Julie without much hesitation. “You’ve persuaded me”.

“Have you been to a fancy dress party, ladies?” asked the barman as he poured our glasses, looked quizzically at my costume.

Julie explained exactly what had happened. The barman made all the right sort of sympathetic noises, but I could see he was finding it all rather funny as well.

“Look here” he said, “I’ve got the number of the local police station here, and I know one of the guys there anyway. Let me give them a call and see if anyone’s handed your bag in. I know how these things work. Someone’ll have seen you go into the sea, grabbed your towel and bag and done a runner with them. They’ll probably have gone through your bag for anything they fancied and then dumped it. You’ll have lost your phone and cards I expect, but with a bit of luck your books and clothes should still be there.”

“Hey, thanks, that’s really kind of you,” said Julie.

The barman picked up the phone and dialled in. “What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

“Anne Harrison,” I said. “Annie”.

“I’m Dan,” he said. Someone answered the phone, and we heard his end of the conversation as he explained what had happened. There was a bit of a pause, then he said, “Hey wow, that’s great!” and turned and gave us a smile and a thumbs up. There was a bit more talk from the other end. “No, we’ll come up for it in a bit,” he said. “They’ve just opened a bottle of wine, and now we know it’s found I guess there’s no real hurry. Oh, and you must promise not to laugh when they turn up. No, no, that’s all I’m saying,” and he laughed as he put the phone down.

“You really are in luck” he reported. “Someone handed the bag in about 10 minutes ago; they saw it sticking out of a bin on the front, and thought it looked too good to throw out. Like I thought, your phone’s gone, but the police actually found your purse still there at the bottom, and it’s still got cards and money in it. He wouldn’t say any more. They’ll probably need you to tell them what’s in it before they hand it over, but it sounds like they only got your phone. Perhaps they were interrupted before they had time to have a proper look.”

The wine was starting to relax me already, and I began to feel a bit less bad about the whole thing. In fact, now that I knew I had most of my stuff back, I began to see how it might all seem quite funny. I’d been looking for an excuse to upgrade my phone anyway, so I might even get something back on the insurance.

I leant on the bar, feeling much happier, and prepared to enjoy the rest of my wine. I couldn’t help noticing that Dan couldn’t keep his eyes off the gaping front of my top. I glanced down myself; whoops – my tits including my nipples were clearly visible. He had the grace to blush when he realised I’d noticed, but I deliberately didn’t try to cover myself up. Perhaps some good might come out of this mess after all.

“I reckon you could get a job here if you promised to wear that outfit,” he smiled. “It’d do wonders for business.”

“What sort of a girl do you think I am?” I smiled.

“The sort of girl who looks really hot in a dress like that,” he replied. “Mind you, your friend must have looked pretty amazing in it too.”

“Oi” I said. “Which one of us are you trying to chat up anyway?”

“Anyone would think he was after us both” grinned Julie. “Don’t you think I look ok in this dress too?” and she pulled the hem up over her thighs as she sat on her bar stool. She kept raising it a little higher until she exposed the whole of her bare public mound.

“Oh fuck,” said Dan. He was going a bit red, but he was obviously enjoying the view.

Julie looked at me. “What do you think, Annie?” she asked with a smile.

I put my hand on her bare thigh and began to stroke up and down. It was warm and smooth, and I let my hand slide down over the firm bulge of her inner thigh and gave it a little squeeze. She sighed and opened her legs a bit more, revealing more of the pink folds of her pussy. What had started off as a tease for Dan’s benefit seemed about to get serious, and judging by the glistening moisture between Julie’s legs she was enjoying it rather a lot. And I for one wasn’t complaining.

“Come here Annie,” she said.

She put her hand between her legs and ran her finger up her wet slit, sliding it between her labia. A little strand of sticky juice clung to her finger as she pushed her skirt out of the way. She licked her lips, and raised her finger to her mouth, but before she could go any further I took hold of her wrist and gazed at the glistening juices. She let me guide her hand towards my own mouth, and I pressed her finger against my lips before opening them and sucking gently on it, relishing her delicately flavoured liquid.

I slid down off my bar-stool and put one hand on each of her firm thighs, then knelt down in front of her. My head rested neatly between her legs, her pussy perfectly positioned in front of my face. I leant forward, breathing in the aroma of her, and felt her hand grab my hair. I stuck out my tongue and began to lick at her labia, flicking over the folds and running my tongue up the gash between them. Julie squeezed her legs together, and I felt my head cushioned between the pliant flesh of her hot inner thighs.

As I attacked Julie’s pussy more vigorously, I felt two rough hands raising the skirt of my costume from behind and caressing the cheeks of my bum. I couldn’t see what Dan was doing, but it felt good. I felt a hand sliding down between my cheeks and round to the front, and I raised my bum slightly to make access easier. A finger rolled gently over my own pussy, and I could feel my wetness swelling up.

I glanced up, and could see Julie fumbling with the buttons on the front of her dress. As soon as it was loose enough, she slipped the straps off her shoulders and tugged the front down over the broad swellings of her tanned breasts. I heard Dan swear under his breath as he saw them, the dark nipples already hard and aroused. Julie braced herself against the bar as Dan leant over and ran his other hand over her tits, caressing and squeezing them. He was leaning against me and I could feel the rock-hard outline of his cock against my back while he found the hole of my vagina and slid one of his fingers inside the warm wet passage.

You can just picture the scene. Julie on the stool braced against the bar, her dress bunched around her waist with her bare tits exposed and her legs stretched wide open; me on my knees between her thighs, face buried in her pussy; Dan leaning over me from behind, with one hand between my legs and the other on Julie’s tits.

I flicked my tongue backwards and forwards across Julie’s hard little clit, and I heard her moaning as she writhed around on the bar stool, pushing her crotch against me. Her juices were running out over the leatherette of the seat, and I could feel Dan’s fingers pushing deeper up inside me. The hardness of his cock against my back felt rough and exciting.

I felt Dan pull away, and heard the rustle of clothing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his t-shirt thrown onto the bar-top. I turned round momentarily to watch him pull of his shoes and socks, then start to undo his belt. The sight of his well-toned torso sent a little shiver of anticipation through me: he was just my type. I smiled at Julie, my cheeks smeared with her juices.

“You have him first, Annie,” she said. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing down there.”

“Thanks, Julie,” I said. “Just help me get this bloody thing off first.”

I turned round, and Julie undid the poppers down the back of my maid’s costume. She pulled it down off me, and threw it over the bar, where it ended up draped over the display of whisky bottles. Now I was naked again, but my body was tingling with excitement at what was about to happen.

Meanwhile, Dan’s trousers and boxer shorts joined his shirt on the bar. His erect cock was sticking up like a flagpole, the purple knob throbbing with excitement. It looked a good eight inches long, and pretty thick as well. Smiling, I went over to him and kissed him, my hand taking hold of his erect cock and squeezing it. He put his arms around me and stroked my back while I did the same to his cock.

Julia was rubbing at her clit again.

“Come on Annie, lick me out while Dan fucks you,” she said.

Leaning over again, I stuck my tongue out and licked at Julie’s puffy aroused labia, I felt Dan’s hands on my bum, then his hard cock pressing against my entrance. With only a small push, his knob parted my own lips and slipped easily up into my soaking wet vaginal passage. Fuck, it felt good as he began to thrust in and out. I lapped at Julie’s pussy while Dan held me steady, his hands on my waist. I clenched the muscles of my vagina, squeezing his cock, tightening my pussy around him, swallowing him inside my soft, pliant, slippery passageway.

I put my lips right over Julie’s clit, and sucked it into my mouth.

“Ah fucking Christ,” she moaned, “Shit, oh fuck.” She squeezed her boobs as her body began to tremble, my mouth on her clit bringing her to a shuddering orgasm. As she came, I felt Dan’s strokes getting faster, slamming me harder into Julie’s body. I braced myself as I felt his hands gripping me tighter, and held my breath. With a groan, he gave one last thrust, and I felt his cock expanding as he ejaculated spurt after spurt of hot sticky cum deep inside me.

For a few moments he held himself against me, breathing heavily. Slowly I felt him withdraw, and turned round to see his still erect cock glistening with a mixture of his thick white semen and my fluids. Julie was looking at it too.

“Do you mind if I have a taste?” she asked me.

“Be my guest,” I said.

She beckoned Dan over and leant over his cock. She stuck out her tongue and licked gently over the glistening knob, making Dan wince slightly – it was obviously still tender after his ejaculation. Her tongue slid round the ridge of his knob-end, cleaning the stickiness off it, then slid the whole thing into her mouth. I saw the bulge in her cheek as she sucked on it like a lollipop, while she gently stroked his balls with her hand. Slowly she let it slide out, wet with her saliva, and licked her lips, making sure she cleaned up all the stickiness.

“Lovely, but I wish there was some more,” she said.

“I know where there’s some more” I said, with a naughty grin. I pulled myself right up onto the bar, and sat on it, my legs dangling. Opening them wide, I offered her my plump sticky pussy. Julie stood between my legs and stroked my thighs, looking at my pink puffy labia. I squeezed my vaginal muscles, and a gobbet of Dan’s white cum oozed out.

“You’re such a slut, Annie,” Julie said with a grin. Leaning on the bar top, one hand on either side of me, she bent down and licked her tongue up my sticky slit. Wiggling it between my pussy lips, she scooped up a big sticky mass of cum and slurped it into her mouth. She then sloshed it round, making sure she got a really good taste, before swallowing it down in one big gulp. Dan had his cock in his hand, and was stroking it up and down. It was starting to swell with blood again. I dare say the sight of two naked girls making out on top of his bar was helping with that.

Julie leant over the bar. I couldn’t see what she was doing at first, then realised that she had got her hand in the ice bucket. She took out an ice cube and began to rub it over my bare right tit, leaving a cold wet trail across my skin.

“Oh shit” I gasped, as she rubbed it round my little nipple. The cold made it even harder than it already was, and my whole areola was rough and dimpled. Julie moved the ice to my left nipple, and began to suck on the right one, pulling it into her mouth and rolling her tongue across it.

Suddenly she cried out, “Oh fuck,” as Dan rammed his newly-stiff cock into her from behind. He put one hand on the bar top to steady himself and began to fondle Julie’s tits with the other. Her face told me how much she loved that, and I listened to the slap, slap, slap of his balls against her arse as he fucked her, while she nuzzled at my nipple.

I was rubbing at my clitoris, dipping my fingers into my own sloppy pussy for lubrication. Julie picked another ice cube out of the bar-top bucket, and pushed my hand out of the way so she could hold it against my clit. Fuck, it was cold. Then she ran it over my pussy lips, before pushing it between them and actually up inside me. Oh my god, that really was amazing. I cried out at the sensation of something so cold inside my hot vaginal passage, and squeezed my cunt muscles so hard that the cube shot out again, half melted and juice-covered. Julie’s hand was still there and she managed to catch hold of it in her fist before transferring it to her mouth. She sucked it for a moment to get all the girlie juices off it, then spat it out across the bar, where it bounced off the mirror with a clunk, and disappeared behind some bottles.

All this time, Dan was banging into her from behind. From the expression on his face, he was getting close to his climax.

“Don’t cum inside me, Dan,” gasped Julie. “I want to see what you’ve got left”.

He pulled out and she spun round, leaning against the bar while he pumped at his cock. With a groan, he threw back his head and a great splash of cum splattered over Julie’s chest. This time it wasn’t very thick, but there was a hell of a lot of it, and soon Julie’s tits and tummy were streaming with watery ejaculate. I leant over and began to lick it off her tit, playing with her nipple.

To my surprise, Dan began to lick it off her as well. Usually, guys don’t seem that keen on tasting their own cum, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Perhaps not being so thick and gooey made it less unappealing! Between us, we managed to clean most of it off.

“Fucking hell,” said Dan, licking his lips. “You girls are awesome”.

“You’re not too bad yourself, big boy,” I said, laughing.

Suddenly we heard a rattling at the outside door of the pub. Dan looked worried.

“Oh fuck,” he said. “I should have opened up half an hour ago. I’ll be in deep shit if the boss finds out. Look, girls, do you mind popping into the back while I let them in?”

Quickly he pulled up his jeans, shoving his boxer shorts into his pocket, and put on his t-shirt. Julie and I grabbed our scattered clothing and slipped through the door marked “Staff Only” while Dan unbolted the door. I could hear him apologising and making some excuse about a problem with the tubes from the cellar.

“He didn’t seem to be having much trouble with his tube just now,” smirked Julie as she pulled her dress over her head. To my relief, I found a cupboard with some chef’s clothing hanging in it, which I decided was better than the stupid maid’s costume for going to the police station. The trousers were a bit loose, but with a belt I reckoned I could make it without them slipping down round my ankles.

While I was sorting myself out, Julie slipped back into the bar.

“I told Dan we’d be back to finish the wine later,” she said with a grin.

So it sounded as if my day was going to end well after all.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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