SPH Experiences: Spanish Nude Beach
By TEEBENZAR.
[google-translator]
For the first three days, I would go down to this small beach, accessible by stairs and featuring clean, soft sand, strip off, and relax. I love being naked on the beach despite not having a very big flaccid penis, only 1.5 inches. However, it’s a grower that reaches just over 5 inches erect and has good girth for my smaller size. The fourth day was a Friday and busier than it had been before with locals. Locals took the West side of the beach and didn’t strip off. The naturists kept to the East side. It is not uncommon in Spain for a space to be shared among multiple people. I found a space between two couples and set up my towel and other belongings, a bit closer than I’d normally go, but it was busy, so I made it normal.
I stripped off and covered myself in lotion, sitting down with my magazine and taking breaks in reading to do some people watching. The couple to one side were definitely Spanish and both very tanned, both naked. The couple, on the other hand, were definitely English with strong Newcastle accents. Both my age (late thirties) and the woman’s stunning figure, wrapped in a red one-piece, made me think of the old Baywatch suits, just not as high-cut. He was trim and had a six-pack just about visible, but most notably was small dicked like me, maybe smaller.
After about 30 minutes, they stood up and asked if I would mind looking after their stuff if they went for a walk and a paddle. The woman noted that she could see my car magazine was in English, so she knew I was fine with being asked in English. I said I was happy to, and they walked off hand in hand, the woman clearly taking the lead. Standing up, he looked a little bigger than when lying down, but again, maybe an inch sticking out and not much hanging there. I knew how he felt.
She walked him all over the beach, way deep into the other side, where all but a few were in swimwear, every now and then stopping to pick up a shell or inspect a rock formation. I noticed many people watching them, and when she walked him unnecessarily close to a group of six university-aged girls, they all watched the pair intently. I could see them smiling and laughing once they were past, nudging each other and putting their hands over their mouths. One even looked to have taken a sneaky photo and was passing her phone among the group, some pinching the screen for a close-up. It could have been something else, but I’m 99% sure that it was a pic of the couple.
Eventually, they went for a paddle, and he went deeper to his midriff for a minute, waited, then walked back to take her hand. They then walked back towards that group of girls. This time, I noticed two of them taking photos or videos, barely even trying to hide the fact. I also noticed him step behind her, but she yanked his arm so he was front and centre as they passed the group. Once past, they turned 90 degrees to head back to me. It really felt like she was parading his nudity in front of these women. As they got close, I could see that the colder water had shrunk him down to a flaccid, skinny. They stood over me and she thanked me for looking after their stuff, offering the same service in return.
I took advantage and went for a wander about, keen to get a good look at the many naked ladies on the beach and feel the freedom of walking about naked in a public space. Being who I am, I decided to walk near those university girls too. See if I made them smile, too. As I got close, I saw that two of them were topless and were still engaged in looking at phone screens. So much so, it was very last moment that one spotted me approaching, as well as the fact I’d come in from the side, so it wasn’t so obvious as the couple had been.
However, there was a visible scramble to reach for phones, accompanied by quick finger motions, likely to open camera apps. But I think I was past them before anybody got a good pic of me. I continued in the same direction so it didn’t look like I’d passed them on purpose and arrived at the sign at the bottom of the steps, noting the beach rules and that it was clothing-optional. I pretended to read it for a bit, then walked back past them at a side angle towards the water. I had my eyes pressed to the extreme behind my sunglasses, hoping to catch them taking my pic from the side. I think one did, but it was hard to tell without looking at them directly. I paddled along the water line, then back to my towel.
Once back, we got to chatting. The woman was called Sharon, and the fellow small dick club member was Dave. I really had an effort not to laugh at such an obvious Geordie couple names (you need to be British to get that). He was in asset management, and they had a villa for their holiday up the road with a pool, but they liked to come here. Sharon stated how much Dave loved to tan naked, nudging him to confirm the fact to me.
Dave confirmed it, but it wasn’t convincing. We chatted longer about my work, life, and so on, and Sharon probed me on how often I went to the beach naked and where, and so on. As a regular, both at home and abroad, I told her my favourite places. Dave and I chatted about football (soccer) for a short while, then Sharon redirected the conversation to naked beach time.
I asked her if she went naked, and she said only when the mood hits. The question seemed to open her up, and she told me how much she enjoyed being clothed in public as her husband was naked, and how much she loved showing off his body. I said he must work out at the gym a lot to be so fit at our age.
She laughed so loudly that I think people must have wondered what I said. He started telling me how he swims twice a week and plays squash twice a week, but she stopped him to say she liked showing off his little willy. He said, “Sharon, shush!” and she laughed again.
Sharon said, “He clearly understands, luv. Cos he has little willy, too. Right?”
He chided her again, “Sharon! Mind your manners.”
“You don’t mind, do you, Tee?”
I laughed and said, “I’m comfortable with what I have.”
“Are you a grower?”
I confirmed I was. “I get to five and a quarter inches.”
Dave leant over and said, “Sorry, mate. Shaz sometimes oversteps societal boundaries.”
She looked at him and said, We’re just chatting, luv. Besides, five and a quarter is much better than your three and a half…”
I could see he looked uncomfortable with the chat, and I tried to push back into the soccer with his team, Newcastle, playing Spurs the next day, teasing him that Newcastle would get battered. We had a minute of banter, and we were getting on well when Sharon interrupted to ask, Could you do me a favour, Tee?”
I said I would if I could.
“Do you mind standing next to Dave to compare dicks? It’s not often I get to see two small ones side by side.”
I confirmed I was indifferent to my size and stood up. Sharon then looked at him and gave him a look that said, ‘Do as you are told!’
Dave stood and took a moment to rearrange himself, pulling himself out as best he could. He’d warmed up and was one inch to my one and a half inches. Sharon took her time. We just stood there on show for her, and she then reached for her phone.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
I said it was fine if my head wasn’t in shot. She smiled, and the phone camera sound clicked about a dozen times. They reviewed them and said I was a good sport. I noticed 30m over the university girls watching us and laughing with each other. I also noticed that Sharon’s nipples were now doing their best to push through the red fabric on her swimsuit. The left one showing off a bar piercing clear as day, her firm tits a perfect shape behind. I guessed C-cups.
We sat down and relaxed quietly for a while. Sharon then told Dave she needed him to go and get some drinks. She said there were beers in the fridge and a cool box in the hall. He stood up, and I watched as she reached into her handbag to retrieve a key and a small piece of fabric. She handed them both to him and said, “The usual rules apply!”
I was sure she was deliberately loud for my benefit. The fabric was a tiny thong that Dave unfurled but didn’t put on. He walked off with the key in one hand, the thong hanging in his other. He took an unnecessary route, passing right by the same girls, then turned off toward the steps, only putting the thong on at the sign at the bottom of the steps.
Sharon watched him go out of sight, then got my attention. She asked for another favour. I said I’d help if I could, and she asked if I’d help her tan her back and wondered if I’d add lotion for her. I said I was happy to. She rolled over and pulled her straps down so her back was revealed to the top of her buttocks. She made a real effort not to allow me any sight of her tits, annoyingly.
She pointed out the tanning oil, and I knelt next to her to apply it to her back. She said it would be easier if I straddled her to get the oil on evenly, and I said if she was sure, reminding her I was naked. She laughed and said it was fine. I wondered if she was coming on to me at this point, so as I started to add the oil, I mentioned that my ex-wife also liked an even tan. She said she assumed I was single, asking why we broke up. I told her it was because she was too materialistic and had got into masses of debt buying crap she didn’t need.
She laughed and said, “So it wasn’t because of your little dick,” with a chuckle.
I laughed it off and said, “I do OK. I think I’m a decent lover. Maybe not the size queens’ favourite, but not all women are like that.”
Once I said I was done, she asked if I’d mind doing her legs too. I said I would and moved back, so I wasn’t next to her. She sat up a bit and looked over her shoulder directly at my dick. Adding oil to this very sexy woman had affected me, but only just a bit of chub, nothing overtly obvious. But the action got my brain working overtime, and I could then feel the blood flowing.
She turned back, and I began working on her legs, starting at the ankles and moving up. I was now in a place where my brain had sex as its only thought. By the time the nearer leg was done, I was fully erect. I could see my position was hidden from all the other beach users, thankfully. I had to lean over to do the other leg. My view from her slightly spread legs with not much swimsuit covering was quite erotic, and as I neared her upper thigh, my hard dick pressed into the top of the nearer thigh, which made her look back.
“Tee!” she said with a smile. “You enjoying yourself back there?”
I apologised to her and feigned I hadn’t even noticed.
She said, It’s OK. It’s kinda flattering for a woman my age.”
I sat back, knees up to hide my erection, and she thanked me for the assistance. I said she was welcome, and she followed up saying, “You didn’t lie about being a grower. That’s surprising.”
I grabbed my magazine and hoped reading about a classic Porsche resto-mod would tame my hard, throbbing dick.
By the time Dave returned fifteen minutes later, I was mostly back to normal. He arrived with a cool box in one hand and a supermarket bag in the other. The pale blue thong was really tiny, and it didn’t do him any favours, but at least his balls filled it out to some extent. Sharon sat up a bit, careful to cover her tits to see Dave.
“Rules?” she said.
I was confused as I knew something was going on with them, but he just said his hands were both full. Sharon said something like, “All the more reason,” but then dropped it as he pulled out a small square pillow from the bag and handed it to her.
She then put out her hand, and he fumbled in the cooler to pull out a bottle of Cruz Campo beer, opened the lid with a tool from his keys, and handed it to Sharon. Condensation poured down the bottle as she took an awkward sip, then twisted it into the sand so it wouldn’t fall over. Dave offered me a beer, and I said one was OK, but I had to drive later. It was cold and crisp, and the first sip went down very easy.
Dave stripped off the thong and lay with a beer next to Sharon. He asked if she needed tanning oil so she wouldn’t burn, but she said Tee had taken care of it for her.
He looked at me and smiled, saying, “Of course, he did,” under his breath.
I thought he was cross at first, but he winked at me and smiled. Sharon sat up a couple of times to finish her beer, then said she was going to have a nap and for Dave to wake her in 30 minutes.
Ten minutes after that, Dave offered another beer, and I couldn’t resist. Dave looked over his wife and stated she was dead to the world. He said she would sleep through an earthquake in a nightclub as she was out for the count. He said that when he went back, he checked the football news and noted that their star striker had been ruled out for the next day’s game.
This filled 20 minutes as we chatted about our favourite teams. I suggested it was time to wake Sharon, but he said we should give her another 15 minutes so he could relax a bit more. I asked him what he meant, and he said that they lived an F.L.R. (Female-Led Relationship) lifestyle, and that while he loved the dynamic most of the time, he sometimes got embarrassed by her actions, and today was an example.
Once he’d explained what an F.L.R. was, I was pressed with questions all about what that entailed. He told me that he often enjoyed watching his wife getting fucked by guys with huge cocks whilst he rubbed one out in the corner. Every October, she locked him in chastity and teased him every day but didn’t let him cum, she’d give him ruined orgasms and feed it to him for her own amusement and even had him strip naked for her friends to see. There was more he wanted to get off his chest, but it had now been an hour, and he felt it was best to wake her.
I stood up to go for a swim in the sea to cool off; the 32 degrees Celsius (90 degrees Fahrenheit) was catching up with me. As I walked off, I heard him call her name to wake her. I went out to cool off and have a swim. The water was definitely nice to cool down, and I was now feeling subconscious that I’d be shrivelled up when I returned to Sharon and Dave. I’d found his stories strangely erotic, even though it didn’t seem like something I’d want my life to be. Thinking it over had me semi-hard, and so as I left the water, I wasn’t shrivelled up.
When I got back to my towel, Sharon was sitting up with another beer and her swimsuit back on her shoulders. She smiled as her eyes moved between my dick and face, her eyes on me the entire twenty meters of my walk up the beach. I asked how her sleep was, and she said she felt a bit groggy now, but would feel the benefit later. I smiled, and she offered another beer. I was enjoying them and decided to have just one more, fairly sure I’d still be under the limit in a few hours after I left. Dave stood and got me the beer, and I stood to take it. He also had one, and we clinked bottles before taking a swig. Sharon’s camera chirped again, and I looked down to check out the angle, fairly sure she didn’t have my face in shot.
“Look at you two together! Brilliant! Two small dick buds side by side,” she said in her strong Northern accent.
I thanked them again for the beers and was told it was no bother. We then ended up chatting for the next hour, during which the beach began to thin out significantly.
By 4 pm, about 60% of the people who were there when I arrived had left, and the clothed side had thinned out the most. I said I needed to take a wiz and so stood to go into the sea. Sharon said she too needed, and we walked together into the water. Whilst not hand in hand, she walked very close, like a couple would. As we entered the water, she told me that Dave had shared their lifestyle with me and wanted to know what I thought. I said it was their life, not my business. She asked if it appealed to me, and I said it didn’t. I said some of it might be fine for a night or whatever, but not a 24/7 thing.
Then, as I was up to my thighs in water, she asked me if she could watch me pee. I asked why, and she just said she loved to do taboo things. I had no issue and was intrigued by her. I hesitated, though, and she said she showed me her nipple bar, stating she was sure I had noticed by how I’d looked at it earlier.
I laughed and said, “Sure.”
I got another bit deeper, checked nobody could see and began to pee. She was standing next to me, very close, and she watched intently. Then, without even asking reached down to hold my dick and move it side to side, making my stream make shapes in the water. After a few seconds of doing this, she flinched and let go, apologising for what she did. I said it was fine, but maybe ask next time she goes to touch another man’s penis. She laughed and began to pee herself, the water dripping down only about 5 inches, then went a little deeper in the water. Once done, she turned and walked back to me.
“That was fun!” she said and carried on up the beach.
I went back to my towel, my dick semi-erect again. This time, Sharon noted it out loud. “Looks like somebody has the start of something there?”
Only for Dave to berate her, telling her not to be so crude in a public place.
I chuckled and said it was just a nice day, and I was relaxed. Dave apologised to me, and I said not to worry. I was a big boy, and if I were uncomfortable, I would say so or leave.
Dave handed me another beer and tried to change the subject by asking me about other beaches I’d visited. I told him about the beach in Barcelona and how great that had been, going into the details of the last trip I’d taken there.
Sharon chirped in to ask if anyone had mentioned my small size there.
Dave again berated her, his tone laced with embarrassment.
I said it had only happened once at a nude beach, that being in England, and it had been done in jest, not in a rude way.
We discussed beach experiences, and Dave told me about a trip they took to San Diego, where Sharon had paraded him up and down the beach all day to show him off to as many women as possible. “She’d deliberately stop and talk to groups of women and ask them to take a photo or ask about the area,” Dave said.
During this time, I had, without thinking, had two more beers. It wasn’t until halfway through the second one that I realised and said I mustn’t have any more, and I will have to wait a few hours before I drive.
Dave apologised again and said he knew and should have been more responsible.
Sharon berated him and said he’d have a forfeit later for doing that to me.
I said I was a big boy and was responsible for myself.
But she said he’d do as told.
Sharon then suggested I come to their villa and wait until I sobered up. The sun had now reached the edge of the cliff, making the shade come closer and closer. I was a bit buzzed and I joking accepted on the promise that Sharon would not try to fuck me.
She laughed and told me I was safe, adding that if I’d had more than eight inches, I’d have been less safe.
Dave began to pack their gear, and I too packed up, putting my work trousers back on and the rest of my gear in the bag I had brought. We walked off together. Dave again carried his thong and walked past as many people as possible, the group of university girls having gone through. As we got to the sign, he pulled it on and said to me that it was one of their ‘rules’ that he always be fully naked wherever it was possible. Sharon nodded as he explained it.
I followed up, noticing that Sharon only carried her small handbag, while Dave was laden down with three bags, an umbrella, and rolled-up mats. I offered to help him, but Sharon said I was their guest and not to be silly.
Their villa was only a five-minute walk from the beach. Sharon opened the gates with a ‘clicker’ and we walked into the driveway where a Porsche SUV was parked. Sharon closed the gate, and no sooner had it pinged closed than Dave pulled off his thong. We walked into a large open-plan living space, and Sharon said I too could strip off if I wanted. So I did.
I left my bags and trousers on the armchair. Dave returned and opened the large doors, revealing a sizable pool and sunbeds. I walked out and saw that the area was surrounded by a high wall and hedges, with a hot tub in one corner, a shower in another, and a small bar on the opposite wall. I was impressed and said as much to Dave.
He said he bought it cheap ten years before and had got a team of locals to do it up as it is now. The pool was maybe 15m by 10m and looked very inviting. I asked if I could take a dip, and he said to treat the place like home, but to shower first. It was a house rule. No problem I said. Sharon came out too and said she would change and come out soon for a swim, also, but would check that I took my shower, asking Dave if he’d told me the house rule was a minimum of sixty seconds in the shower. He said he wasn’t aware it was meant for guests, too, but she demanded it was.
I stepped into the ornate shower and pressed the button. It gurgled, then very warm water shot out. But it cooled very quickly. I guess the water left in the metal pipes exposed to the sun had warmed up, but what followed was freezing. I rinsed off the sand and rubbed at my hair vigorously as the water temperature levelled out, a temp that had my balls climbing into my body and my dick shrinking down to almost nothing.
I was beginning to understand that Sharon’s kink for humiliating Dave was more about any guy, today that guy being me. But I didn’t want to wimp out or give her the satisfaction, so I held out for a minute and walked out, aware my dick and balls must have been showing as almost nothing. Sharon gave a little squeal, called me a good little boy and walked over to me, leaning in and giving me a peck on the cheek.
“Back soon!” she said as Dave took his turn in the cold shower.
I jumped in, and the water was a good temperature. The cold from moments ago, combined with the sun and perhaps some heating, had it at a perfect temperature. I swam around for 5 minutes before Sharon reappeared in a very skimpy two-piece swimsuit. Much of her firm breasts were exposed, with just the nipples and an inch or so around was covered. Her thong also just about covered everything, even showing off a dark landing strip just about visible behind the white fabric.
As Dave and I paddled about, he started to tell me more about himself in terms of their F.L.R. lifestyle. He noted how he felt being paraded in front of the group, all cold from the sea. Dave described the group of university girls, unaware that I, too, had spotted them. He said he often got carried away with it. Still, the embarrassment would often overtake him, and he would even become fully aroused in such situations, making it worse.
He went on to say he was only three and a half inches when hard, and he and Sharon didn’t have intercourse anymore, but her real desire was to fuck guys with huge cocks and make him watch. He said she had no interest in fucking other guys when he wasn’t there to see the act, for her to see his face as she was fucked by some big cocjk stud was her thing.
I asked if he had drawn a line or said no to things.
He said they had tried many things, but some were too much and once was enough. He expanded, saying how he once sucked a guy’s cock for her as she knew the guy was bisexual, but he didn’t enjoy it. The time she demanded he lick her pussy clean with another guy’s cum oozing out, which he didn’t enjoy either.
But he said he was fine with chastity, pegging, and being photographed with the guys who fucked Sharon for her ‘memory’ file. However, his usual duties of making her happy and keeping the house clean and tidy were fine.
I said it was all new to me and that I hadn’t done most of that sort of thing. I said I loved going down on a woman, but never after sex, and my ex-wife wasn’t into giving or receiving oral sex.
Sharon then called over from her sun lounger, saying that she too wanted to hear my sex stories, and she also asked Dave to make her a JD and lemonade. We both walked out the steps in front of her, and Dave went to the bar to make a drink. He offered me a drink and I agreed on a Pepsi Max. Sharon said to repeat what I had said.
I told her what I had been telling Dave. I was standing at the foot of her lounger, and her magnificent body looked great in front of me, 95% of her body on show.
Sharon asked me question after question, often stopping me to demand more detail, such as my preferred technique to give oral sex, the type of porn I watched, etc. As I opened up to her, for some reason, without holding back, she had begun to open her legs a bit, showing off a lot of flesh and not much left to the imagination. I was soon fully hard in front of her. My erection was at 100% and throbbing.
“Dave, get me the thingy!” she called as I told her about losing my virginity. He returned with a dressmaker’s tape measure.
“May I measure it, Tee?” she asked.
I said OK, and she stood elegantly and got close enough to measure me. “Five and a quarter inches!” she called out. “That’s impressive growth, even if your dick is still small,” she said to me as she handed Dave the tape measure, as she sat back on the lounger.
I noticed Dave was also sporting a full erection pointing skywards, the tip curving toward his belly button. It was much thinner than mine, like a Chapstick tube. I laughed at it. I was the man here, that’s for sure.
She asked me how often I masturbated, and I said I wasn’t sure, but likely once or twice a week. She nodded and said if I wanted to now, she would be happy for me to, she said how much she’d hate for me to get blue balls.
I was still a little buzzed from the booze, and her body had me turned on, but the chat was what really had me hard. I couldn’t resist and just reached down, Pepsi in one hand, dick in the other. I stroked slowly, but my drying body made it a bit too rough with friction, so I asked if she had any tanning oil to help with lubrication. I can do better she said and stood again, leading me into the lounge and through to a double bedroom. As we walked, she told Dave to get lube.
I was all but told to lie on the bed, and soon after, Dave came in, lube in hand. Sharon told him to lie next to me, and I began to worry for a moment, but the bed was huge and he was a good two feet away. Sharon poured some of the lube onto my throbbing dick, and the scent of strawberry filled the air. She said it was the best lube as it kept slick for ages and even tasted amazing.
I was looking over her body as she knelt on the bed above me and began to dictate how I jerked myself off. She said faster or slower, add a twist, squeeze your balls and the like. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before I realised I was close, not helped by having a week’s worth of work stored up. Dave, too, was jerking off to her instruction, and when I said I was close, Dave noted he, too, was close.
Sharon squealed and said she’d count down from ten. I really had to slow down as she got to four, and at one, I let fly a huge rope of cum. It flew and landed on my cheek, followed by another on my neck and two more on my chest, the remainder oozing over my slick hand. The orgasm had been the most intense in a very long time, maybe in over a decade. I didn’t care that I was covered in cum or that I had just rubbed one out as another man did the same next to me.
“Now clean it up, you dirty dog!” Sharon said in a raised voice.
I didn’t even question it and scooped the cum dripping down my face and swallowed it, licking it off my fingers, the taste mingled with the lube wasn’t too bad. I went to do another from my neck when Sharon said, “Tee, I was speaking to Dave, but you seem to be a good boy, too. Feel free to clean yourself up more!”
As she said it, she gave a quick flash of her pierced nipple. She only pulled the fabric to one side for a few seconds, but it was an amazing, puffed-up up perfect nipple.
Sharon said I could use the shower and pointed to the right, where a large, glass-fronted shower cubicle was set back into the wall. I shuffled past her and over to the shower. I leaned in to set the water running and get it to a good temperature; the large rainfall-style head quickly reached the perfect temperature. I stepped in, closed the large glass door, and began rinsing off under the strong flow.
A moment later, the door opened, and Sharon stepped in, stating she’d help get cleaned up, unless I had any desire for her not to. I said it was fine, so she reached over and used one of the shower gels on the shelf, pouring a large amount of the pale green liquid into her hands. She ushered me out of the stream of water and began to lather up my chest and arms.
Having Sharon wash me down was really quite erotic, and I was hard again very quickly, not too bad at my age and having recently just blown a load. She pretended not to notice and cleaned me down everywhere except she avoided my dick and balls. I was straining and twitching by the time I was lathered everywhere else.
“I think that’s all of it, Tee, or did I miss anything?” Sharon questioned with a wry smile.
I said there was a small area below my belly button, and she feigned a sudden realisation, quickly then grabbing my dick in one hand and balls in the other. I instinctively reached out to put my hand on her hips, but my hand was slapped away before I got there.
“You dirty, handsy piece of shit!” she blurted out. “Do that again and you’ll regret it!” Squeezing my balls really firmly as she said it.
I winced and gave a deep, pained apology to her, which thankfully had her release the tension and my sack. She rubbed my dick in the soapy water like an expert, and within three minutes, I was ready to blow again. I was arching my back to push my dick forward and breathing hard as the soapy sloshing of her hand began to slow. By the time I cum again, her strokes had slowed significantly, which prolonged my second orgasm of the day.
It was blissful, but as I came back down, it began to get painful as Sharon was still tugging at it, faster though. I let her know I was in pain, and she said to man up or shut up. I strained for a good ten seconds in what was getting increasingly more painful before she let go.
“Just letting you know who is in charge, Tee!” she said as she rinsed off her hands, then left the cubicle, grabbed a towel off the adjacent shelf and walked out of the room.
Dave had been watching and wore a smile as I rinsed off and emerged from the shower. He apologised for her actions, and I said it was fine. The first part made up for the pain after. He told me how it was a regular one for him to endure once he was released from his October lock-up, that or she’d tie his hands behind him and suck him off just before he was about to cum, then let go as his orgasm was ruined. He said she would howl with laughter at him as he spewed and begged her not to stop.
I dried off and went in search of my things as Dave took a shower after me. Sharon had changed again and wore a very tight summer dress that showcased her body, also revealing a lack of underwear.
“I’ve put your clothes in to wash, Dave, as they were all covered in sand. Stay for dinner and they will be dry in time for you to go back to your hotel.”
I had little choice, so I went back out and lay on a sunbed, Sharon right behind me. She said Dave would make a nice Greek Salad with flatbreads once he was out of the shower, and we lay there on adjacent sunbeds talking about ‘normal’ stuff. Where I lived, my work, my life, etc.
She, in turn, told me about her world, the only oddity being that I was naked and she was dressed, albeit in a tight summer dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Dave made an excellent meal and we got on well, the dinner chat eventually getting back to Sharon telling me about her favourite ‘fuck buddies’ as Dave squirmed in his seat. The glass table they had meant that when we both got erections, Sharon had a good view and berated her ‘little dick boys’ for trying to show off what little we had.
We exchanged details and have met up a few times since that first day six years ago. They even let me bring my now-fiancée, my girlfriend, to their villa for free if they are not using it. Sally (my fiancé) knows everything about how we met and has also shared a dinner at that glass table in her sundress as Dave and I sat naked.
I have also now seen Sharon naked on the beach when they came to visit and used our local nude beach one summer, but that’s as far as we’ve ever wanted to go. I have no want to actually fuck her, the thought of it, though, is enough to keep me horny, but now I have Sally, I have my own special lady.
Sharon keeps saying she needs to ‘train Sally up in being the wife she should be, ’ but it’s all in jest. Or at least that’s how we take it. I’m not sure I’d want to live like Dave. He, though, is always telling me how happy he is and how Sharon is the world to him. So each to their own.
The End.
*The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story has been previously published on other free websites and is now in the public domain, which is why we are able to publish it here.