Today was a new adventure for John. He had managed to convince his 30-year old wife, Cecelia, to accompany him to a nude beach. This trip was the culmination of a few years of his attempts. Cecelia, sat next to him in the car, her bare feet propped on the dashboard. She wore her long, black hair loose trailing over her shoulder, and she sat quietly looking out the window.
"You sure you're ready for this?" John asked.
"No. But I agreed to come with you. Now stop asking or I'll change my mind."
That was all the warning John needed to keep his mouth shut. Once Cecelia made up her mind about something reasoning with her would only cause an argument.
He used the silence to look over his wife. She was the perfect mix of her half Caucasian and half Thai ethnicities - silken black hair framing brown, tilted, almond eyes and perfect olive, almost hairless, skin. The only aspect out of proportion on her 5'2" frame was her almost comically large DD-cup breasts which were currently covered by a bikini top. John was excited to finally be naked in public, particularly because his exotically beautiful wife would be beside him.
The driveway to the beach was a long, bumpy stretch of gravel. Around them, the sun-drenched landscape unfurled--scrub brush and the occasional copse of twisted cypress, the ocean hidden but for the sound of the waves and the tangible scent of salt in the air.
The car park was a small clearing in the brush, already dotted with cars and a few brave souls who seemed entirely at ease with the day's lack of attire. A couple emerged from a nearby van--hands entwined and bodies unadorned, laughing as they disappeared down a sandy trail.
John cut the engine, letting the sudden silence settle them. "Looks like we're not alone," he said.
"Safety in numbers," Cecelia replied, though her voice wavered slightly. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stretched, glancing through the windshield at a pair of middle-aged men lounging contentedly naked beside their truck.
John watched her, admiring her willingness to step so far beyond her comfort zone. He knew she did this as much for him as for herself. "We can always keep the swimsuits," he offered, knowing she'd likely refuse.
"No it's fine. Let's go."
The path wound through dunes speckled with sea grass, the sand warm beneath their feet. John held the bag with their towels and lunch, while Cecelia walked beside him in nervous silence. They passed more beachgoers, some solo and others in groups, all in various stages of undress. Cecelia kept her gaze forward, though John noticed her eyes flicking curiously now and then. So far none of them men had cocks much different to John's average size which made him more at ease.
They found a spot nestled between two tall mounds of sand, secluded enough to ease their awkwardness. The ocean stretched blue and endless before them, the crash of waves steady and soothing. John laid out the towels with a deliberate nonchalance and began to strip, draping his shirt over a nearby bush. He hesitated at his boxers, glancing at Cecelia, who still wore her bikini and an expression of amused trepidation, then shrugged and pulled them off.
"There," he said, grinning sheepishly, his flaccid 3 inches dangling in the breeze. "Not so bad, right?" John had no qualms about his cock which when erect was a solid 5.5 inches.
Cecelia laughed, "If you say so."
He sat beside her, feeling the sun bake his skin with a liberating intensity. John lay back on his towel emjoying the feeling of being nude in nature.
After about five minutes Cecelia removed the her bikini top. John looked at her approvingly feeling a slight stirring in his groin as her big breasts were exposed to the sun. Cecelia's dark nipples, a result of her asian heritage, and large areola on full display and the weight of her breasts causing them to droop to the side. She lay back as well and John saw some of the tension drop from her shoulders.
After about 10 minutes two young men, college-aged and laughing, ambled toward their spot as though drawn by Cecelia's body. They set their towels down not far away, close enough that John and Cecelia could hear their easy banter. It gave them the perfect vantage point for viewing Cecelia's sun-soaked breasts. The young men stripped with a casual bravado, revealing smooth, muscular torsos. One had an average-sized cock, but the other was uncommonly well-endowed, his flaccid length hanging at what John estimated to be seven inches, thick and curving away to one side with the weight.
Cecelia shifted on her towel. John noticed a look of disbelief as she did a double take on the young men. Some of the tension returned to her shoulders and Cecelia took some deep breaths.
John chuckled but was concerned about her getting self-conscious again. "I think we're old news already," he said, nodding toward the young men as they turned away and walked down for a dip in the ocean hoping it would reassure her.
For a moment, the couple lay in silence, absorbing the warmth of the sun again away from the presence of strangers. John watched Cecelia out of the corner of his eye, admiring again the way the light played over her olive skin.
Cecelia propped herself on her elbows. "You know what?" she said, her voice carrying a note of mischief that John instantly recognized. With a determined nod, she hooked her fingers into her bikini bottoms and shimmied them down her legs. A small, neat, strip of waxed, black pubic hair formed a landing strip above her slit. Cecelia's Asian-dark pussy lips and longer, exposed labia, were now out in the open. John thought he saw a hint of moisture glistening there.
She looked at John, as if daring him to say something.
John grinned, feeling a rush of affection and admiration. He leaned over, pressing a playful kiss to her shoulder. "You're amazing," he said, impressed with how quickly she adjusted to this unexpected aspect of the day.
"I know," she replied.
They lay side by side, the sun warming them into a comfortable languor. John listened to the rhythmic hush of the waves and the occasional call of a gull, feeling the odd mixture of exposure and freedom that this place seemed to promise. He glanced at Cecelia, who had closed her eyes, her face relaxed and serene.
The sound of footsteps in the sand signalled the return of the two college men came back from their swim, skin glistening with seawater. The well-endowed man's cock swung with each step, a pendulous display that seemed to defy gravity. They settled on their towels facing Cecelia and John, their eyes darting but not lingering, as if they had perfected the art of discreet ogling. John thought he saw Cecelia shift slightly, her legs parting just enough to give the young men an unobstructed view of her breasts and pussy. He must be imagining it, but it seemed intentional, a subtle provocation that made him both uneasy and impressed.
The well-endowed man stretched out, muscles moving under his skin. John noticed their attention lingering, unabashed and almost comically blatant, until he thought he might say something. Finally, after an eternity of ten minutes, the young men gathered their towels and sauntered off, half-glancing back at Cecelia one last time before disappearing into the dunes.
John exhaled, the air leaving his lungs in a bemused rush. "I think they liked you," he said, a crooked smile playing at his lips.
Cecelia sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "It's all a bit much, John." Her voice wavered, a small crack in her earlier bravado.
John realised that he had misread her earlier body language and what he had perceived as provocation had actually been unease. "We can go if you want," though he was surprised at how much he didn't want to.
"No, you stay. I know how long you've wanted to do this for. I'll just head back to the car." Cecelia stood, brushing the sand from her skin. She slipped on her bikini with quick, nervous movements.
John offered some mild, half-hearted protests.
"Really, it's fine. I want you to enjoy this." John watched as she started toward the trail, her figure a sliver against the bright sand. He felt a pang of guilt, then admiration, for her willingness to endure the uncomfortable for his sake.
He watched her until she disappeared from sight, then lay back, the sun warm on his skin. The beach was quiet, the sound of waves filling the space around him. He closed his eyes, but without Cecelia beside him, the freedom felt hollow, the solitude more pronounced.
He sat up, looking toward the ocean. People moved like slow brushstrokes along the shore, and he felt a sudden urge to join them, to walk the length of the beach and see it all before heading back. He stood, brushed the sand from his legs, and set off down the shore, taking his clothes and towel with him.
He watched the other nude bodies scattered along the sand, each one a small testament to freedom, to a kind of vulnerability that felt strangely powerful.
He walked closer to the water, letting the waves lap over his feet, the chill a welcome contrast to the sun's unrelenting heat. As he wandered, he noticed a path branching off into the dunes--a narrow track leading away from the openness of the beach. Curiosity tugged at him, and he veered from the water's edge, following the path with a sense of adventure that bordered on recklessness.
The sand shifted beneath his feet as he climbed between the tall mounds. The sound of the ocean faded, replaced by a more intimate quiet. He heard voices carried on the breeze, and his pulse quickened with an instinctual sense of discovery.
A small group of trees came into view, their trunks bent and twisted by the coastal wind. The voices grew clearer, interspersed with muffled moans. John approached, the thrill of voyeurism mixing with disbelief at his own boldness. He paused at the edge of the grove, peering through the branches. He couldn't believe what he saw.
There in the clearing Cecelia was on her knees, her bikini bottom discarded in the sand, pussy exposed. The young man from earlier with the 7 inch flaccid cock stood before her, his curved length now fully erect at what must have been 10 inches and thicker than a beer bottle. Cecelia's lips stretched around the shaft, and John felt a jolt of shock and arousal. He blinked, unable to process what he was seeing.
One of Cecelia's hands stroked the average-sized cock of the other young man while her other hand rubbed furiously at her clit. She was moaning around the length in her mouth, the sound vibrating through the small clearing.
"You like that, don't you, slut?" the well-endowed one said, his voice breathy yet taunting. "You like sucking college cock?"
"Bet your husband never gave it to you like this," the other chimed in, his words punctuated by gasps. "Dirty little Asian whore."
