I’ve Always Wanted to Go Skinny Dipping [MF, exh, public sex, skinny dipping]

“What are you reading?” asked Vicky Pham as she sat down next to me. I slipped my bookmark between the pages and showed her. She immediately lit up. “Oh, Arsène Lupin!” she exclaimed. “Finally took my recommendation, huh? How are you enjoying it?”

“It’s great so far. Definitely different from a lot of other stuff I’ve read. It’s kind of interesting reading a mystery from the criminal’s point of view.”

“He’s not a criminal!” she protested. “I mean, he sort of is, but he’s a gentleman-burglar. It’s different. He’s not a bad guy or anything. He’s in it for the thrill.” Vicky took out her lunch and continued. “You know, when I was in college, I wanted to be a mystery writer. I even wrote a few stories myself.”

“Yeah? What sort of stuff did you write?”

“Oh, it’s dumb,” she demurred, averting her eyes.

“Oh come on, you brought it up. Tell me,” I prodded.

She sighed. “Fine. So don’t laugh, but I wrote a few stories about a mystery-solving…dolphin…” she mumbled.

“A dolphin?”

“They’re cute!” she explained. “And really smart!”

“What sort of mysteries did he solve?” I asked, bemused.

“Mostly ones near the water. And it was a she.”

“Interesting… Do you still have them? Might be fun to read.”

“Na. They were all on my old laptop. Lost ‘em when it crashed. Probably for the best. I might have to commit seppuku if I thought anyone could ever read them.

“So how about you?” she asked. “Did you ever write anything?”

“Yeah, I write some short stories,” I blurted out without thinking. Even before her lips parted, I knew what her obvious follow-up would be.

“What do you write? Probably horror stories, I bet, right?”

Damn. I hadn’t really thought this through. I could lie, but if she asked to read it, I’d be caught. Could I say something so boring that she wouldn’t have any interest?

“Uhh…”

“John, you’re blushing,” she observed.

Betrayed by own body. “Well…”

Her eyes went wide with sudden realization as a wicked grin spread across her face. “John, do you write naughty stories?” she whispered, leaning in close.

“You see…”

“You do! Oh, wow…”

“They’re not that naughty,” I protested, while simultaneously remembering all of debased and salacious sex acts about which I had written, thankful she couldn’t read my mind.

“Can I read one?” she asked, in a softly inquisitive voice. “I’m curious.”

Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. “Haven’t you read that kind of thing before?”

“I have,” she confessed. “A lot. But I’ve never known someone who wrote them. It would be interesting, I think. Besides, I’ll be able to ask the author himself about any questions I have. How often do you get that kind of opportunity? And you’ll get a review from a connoisseur. Come on, share just one with me,” she pled, pouting her lip.

A face like hers was hard to resist… And I had to be honest, the thought of sharing one of my stories with someone I personally knew was a little bit exciting. And scary… What would she think of me? What would she say after reading my stories, learning what a secret pervert I was, discovering my kinks and fetishes laid bare on the screen?

But what if she liked it?

She seemed intrigued. And she liked erotica. Maybe she’d read it and enjoy it. I’d have someone to discuss my stories with in real life. The possibility had always tempted me, but I hadn’t ever felt comfortable enough with someone to share my secret hobby. Maybe now was my chance. Maybe I’d have a personal beta reader, someone I could discuss my story ideas with, someone I could send my writings to before publishing them online.

“Alright. I’ll email you a link after work,” I said.

“You better. If you forget, I’ll send Lupin to steal it from you,” she warned.

We finished our lunches, and when I got back home that night, despite my fears, I sent her the link. Something relatively tame, just some skinny dipping, exhibitionism, and public sex. I made sure to avoid anything too kinky: no incest or mind control or gomorrahmy anything. She messaged me back with a quick “Thanks.” The next day, I waited for her to bring it up, but nothing. Nothing the day after, either. After two weeks without a comment on the story, I figured she had either forgotten about it or hated it too much to want to discuss. I didn’t dare bring it up in case it was the latter.

And then one day, almost a month after I had first sent her my story, she remarked during an otherwise ordinary lunch, “Oh, I wanted to tell you. I finally read that story you sent me.”

I almost choked on my taco. A cold depth opened in my stomach. I fully expected her next sentence to be, “Wow, you’re a creepy pervert, you know that? I’ve already reported you to HR so they can fire you. After this conversation I’m taking an electromagnet to my laptop and drinking obscene amounts of alcohol in an attempt to purge any memory of your story from my memory and that of my computer.”

But to my surprise, her next words were instead, “It was so good! I loved it!”

“R-really?” was all I could stammer out, my heart still dancing a tarantella in my chest.

“Yeah! The descriptions were amazing. I felt like I was there. Like I was living vicariously through your story. You’ve really got a way with words.” She looked around for witnesses and, satisfied that no one nearby was close enough to us to overhear, continued at a whisper. “Have you ever gone skinny dipping before?”

“A few times, yeah,” I admitted. And at that, Vicky’s eyes lit up. She learned forward, her full, plump breasts resting on the table, her low-cut top affording me a generous view of her generous décolletage. I quickly returned my eyes to her gaze before she could notice where I was looking.

“What was it like? Was it for research? Or fun?” she asked, rapid-fire. “What happened?”

“It was just for fun at the time, but it definitely ended up being good story research after the fact. It was back when I worked at a summer camp. A few of us camp counselors went to North Beach after the kids were asleep, and it just sort of happened. Someone joked about it, and then someone else brought it up seriously,” I told her, omitting to mention that I was the someone else. “They took off their swimsuit first, and pretty soon everyone was doing it.”

“Was it just boys?” she asked.

“No, mixed. Co-ed. It’s not like we had planned on it happening beforehand.”

She held her hand over her mouth. “Oh, wow. You weren’t embarrassed? Did you look a lot? Did anyone look at you?”

“A bit, at first. But it didn’t last long. Once everyone was naked it just felt normal. You get used to it pretty quickly. Or at least, I did. Plus, you know, alcohol was involved, so.”

“Wow,” she said, letting out a deep sigh. “If you had said you hadn’t tried it, I would have said your imagination has no limits. It definitely felt real in the story, like I was on the beach with you. I’ve always wanted to go skinny dipping. It seems like so much fun. And you make it sound like an amazing experience.”

Was she hinting at something? I would have sworn she was fishing. If she were, I wouldn’t be very difficult prey. I had had a crush on her when we first met that had slowly subsided as our friendship deepened, but I had never stopped finding her attractive, nor could I deny that she showed up in my fantasies from time to time.

Her sleek, long, raven hair. Her large, deep brown eyes, crescent and raised at the ends, that crinkled so charmingly whenever she smiled and gave her an air of innocent sweetness. Her large, full breasts and abundant cleavage that she so often flaunted, even at work, not that I stared, of course. And all of it came with a sweet, vivacious personality that was always willing and eager to try something new, be it a cooking class or whirlyball.

I decided to pull on her hook a bit and check whether there were any desire to reel me in. “Oh, it really is. It feels amazing. Just you and the water, with nothing between you. It feels so freeing. I haven’t gone in ages, though. It’s a shame,” I said, trailing off wistfully, regretfully.

“Isn’t North Beach nearby?” she inquired. “It’s near Flo’s, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s the one. If you go at night, there’s no one around, and you can basically do whatever you want. Some nights you might run into someone, but I think I only ever saw other people there like, once, and we just waited for them to leave before taking off our suits.” It’d be so easy for us to go together, I wanted to add.

She looked into the sky pensively. I took another bite of my lunch and hoped she was having the same thought. She looked like she was wrestling with a decision. “John?” she asked quietly.

“Yes?” I replied as casually as I could fake.

“Would you…no, never mind…”

“What is it, Vicky?”

“Well…would you ever want to…go with me? Skinny dipping? I’ve always been curious, and it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable, but I feel safe with you, and since you have experience…would you?” she asked, her eyes big and beautiful and staring so hopefully into my own. How could I say no? I even resisted the urge to tease her, lest she reconsider.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun. I think you’re really going to enjoy it.” I know I will… Already, unbidden, predictions of her naked body were filling my mind. “When’s good for you?”

“This weekend?” she asked. “How about Saturday? What time is good to go?”

Eager. Good. “We used to get there around midnight and it was empty then. How about I pick you up at 11:30 and we’ll drive together?”

She beamed. “Perfect. My first time skinny dipping… I can’t wait!”

“Me neither…”

* * * * *

The rest of the week passed interminably slowly. I should have just offered to take her Monday night. But day by day, hour by hour, Saturday plodded closer and closer, until finally, the day arrived. I tried to will the sun to move more quickly and hurry the night, but alas, I had to wait for the appointed time to arrive all on its own.

As soon as I could, I stuffed a beach towel into the back seat of my car and drove to Vicky’s. I cursed every red light for delaying me even further and silently thanked the green lights for their benevolence. But despite the dastardly attempted sabotage of those nefarious crimson bastards, I finally arrived at Vicky’s house.

I couldn’t remember how many times I had driven there before, but this time was different. It still felt unreal that Vicky was planning to get into my car, drive with me to the beach, and take off all of her clothes in front of me. Even after a week of imagining and re-imagining, it still felt impossible. I wasn’t entirely convinced that I wouldn’t knock on her door only to discover I had dreamt our entire conversation. I expelled my worries in a deep sigh. It was time.

I had just unbuckled my seat belt when the front door of her house opened, and Vicky came out carrying a beach bag and wearing a pair of sandals and a floral sundress that unfortunately, and unusually for her, covered her entire chest. She looked as though she didn’t realize it was night, and had dressed for the daytime beach, instead. She skipped to the car and let herself in.

“Hey, John! Right on time!” she greeted me, closing the door behind her and buckling up.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Ready?”

“Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be,” she intoned.

We drove in silence for the first minute or so. Neither of us quite knew what to say. I wished I knew what was going on in her mind. Was she as nervous as I was? At least I had gone skinny dipping before. This was her first time. Was she scared? Excited? Exhilarated? I wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but I couldn’t help but fear that I would come off as the over eager pervert I felt I was if I too directly addressed our true purpose tonight. “So, ready to take off your clothes with me?” didn’t seem like it would reassure a nervous companion.

Luckily, Vicky broke the silence. “So tell me more about your first time,” she prompted. “You just sort of glossed over it before. Was it anything like your story?”

I laughed. “I wish. It was a decidedly platonic affair, unfortunately. But it was still fun. Like I said, a bunch of us camp counselors went to the beach together for some night swimming. We had already been a few times that summer. It was refreshing and invigorating and something fun to do once the kids were all asleep. Not everyone was over twenty-one, so we couldn’t go to bars or anything, and you’d get fired for drinking at the camp, so the beach became our place to escape.

“So it was me, another guy, and three girls there that night. We brought some drinks and were just playing around in the water. The waves were pretty choppy that night, and one of the girls, Ashley, was wearing a pretty flimsy swimsuit. One of the waves took her top off, but she managed to get it back on pretty quickly. But after that we were teasing her a bit about just leaving it off.”

“Sounds like you had an ulterior motive,” Vicky observed.

I shrugged. “She was hot. I certainly wasn’t going to try to encourage her to keep her top on. But she said she’d only go skinny dipping if someone else did first, and she probably just meant it as a joke, but I took her up on it.”

“So you were the trendsetter? My, my, how naughty.”

“I’d always wanted to try it. And I was being given permission, so I figured, why not? I told her I’d go first, so I took off my trunks. Water was above my waist, anyway, so you couldn’t really see anything, but after that, everyone else joined me one at a time. First Ashley did, then the other counselors. One of the girls just went halfway and left her bottoms on, but otherwise everyone was naked by the time we left.

“Nothing sexual happened, though. We were just having fun. There was definitely some staring happening, and some flirty comments, but honestly, it was more de-sexualizing than anything. Before then, I had been crushing on one of the other counselors, but afterwards, it was just different. Like we had shared that experience together and now her body was natural, not sexual, I guess.

“After that, midnight skinny dipping became a bit of a tradition with the camp counselors. We’d go once or twice a week. Got most of the counselors to try it at least once. Managed to keep it a secret from the kids and our bosses, which was good. I know that some of the people who returned the next summer kept the tradition going, but I don’t know anyone who still works there now. I hope they’re still doing it.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Like a secret skinny dipping society!”

“So how about you, Vicky? What makes you want to try it?”

“Me? Well… How about we start by agreeing that this whole night is just between us?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, good. For me, it just represents freedom and leaving behind inhibitions. I mean, I don’t even really like wearing swimsuits in public. I’m pretty self-conscious about my size,” she explained. “Always have been. I’m fat, you know?”

I stole a glance at her. It was true she was no lithe waif, and she certainly wasn’t fat, but she was undeniably bigger than your usual Vietnamese girl. Still, I’d describe her as zaftig or plump. She carried it well, too. Wide hips, nice ass, and those deliciously ample breasts of hers that so attracted my gaze and occupied my thoughts. “You are not. You look great.”

“Thanks, but that’s not what my family told me growing up. Not what I heard in high school or college, either. I’m working on it, but I’m still pretty shy about my body, besides my tits, anyways. Those always got me attention. Honestly, thank goodness for ‘em. They kept my confidence up during the worst of it. But I guess I feel like going skinny dipping would be a good stepping stone for me, you know? A sign I was feeling more confident about myself.

“And the idea of it has always excited me, too,” she confessed with a giggle. “Never really knew when I’d get a chance at it, though. So I’m really glad that you agreed to do this with me. Thank you, John.”

“You’re more than welcome, Vicky. I’ve been looking forward to this, too. It’s been years. It’s nice to have someone to try this with.”

“Maybe we can put together our own skinny dipping society,” she suggested.

“That could be fun.” I wondered which of our friends would be susceptible to an invitation. Sally didn’t seem the type. Too modest. But Donna might be up for it…

“We’re here!” Vicky announced, interrupting that train of thought. I pulled into the empty parking lot and parked right next to the beach, a chain strung across the normal entrance.

I parked the car and grabbed my towel. Vicky swung her bag onto her shoulder and followed me over the chain and onto the beach. The beach was deserted. It was just us. Perfect.

The sky was clear and moonless. The stars scintillated brilliantly, undimmed by any artificial lights. The horizon was invisible, black sea and black sky merging together. The onyx waves crashes into the shore with a soft hush, and a light breeze carried the invigorating aroma of the sea to our nostrils. I walked up to an empty lifeguard chair and set my towel on it. It’d make for a convenient place to leave our things without fear of losing track of them. I took Vicky’s bag from her and placed it on the seat, as well.

We stared at each other for a moment. “Well, uh, guess it’s time,” I said.

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Seconds ticked past silently. I took a deep breath. Looked like it was up to me to initiate things. I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it onto my towel. Vicky stepped out of her sandals and bent over to grab the hem of her dress. I gallantly turned my back to her to let her undress, leaving her a few more moments of modesty.

I hurriedly finished undressing. It was brisk this close to the ocean, despite the August weather, and the sooner I got into the Atlantic, the sooner I’d acclimate. Finally, with all of my clothes laying at my feet, I turned around. Vicky’s and my eyes met, then lowered. There she was before me, entirely naked. Entirely naked, that is, except for her cerulean tankini. On someone less well-endowed, it would have been modest. On her, the top did nothing to hide the bounty of her bust, emphasizing her endowment and deep cleavage.

I raised my eyes. Vicky didn’t. “Wow. You’re naked,” she observed flatly, her eyes wide and unwavering.

“You’re not.”

“I was going to ease into it,” she said defensively. She finally re-established eye contact. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, of course,” I exaggerated. It was one thing to be naked when everyone else was, or in the thrill of the alcohol-marinated moment. It was only weird for a second, until others joined you. It was another to be soberly and singularly nude in front of your friend. I was completely exposed before her, and she was making little attempt to hide her gaze. I was also uncomfortably aware that I was a rather less impressive male specimen that I would have liked, thanks to the ocean breeze. Her look felt like a physical force, roaming across my body as she observed every detail. I resisted the urge to cover my body and instead said, “Let’s go,” letting her lead the way to the water.

The soft sand yielded comfortably beneath my feet, squishing between my toes, getting damper with each step towards the ocean. Familiar sensations from years ago came fluttering into my memory. The laughter of the other counselors, the splashing of the water, the looks of surprise when I had first taken off my suit, soon followed by mirth as they joined me, the bouncing and jiggling of Ashley, Emily, and Danielle…

A squeaky yelp brought me back to the beach. “It’s cold!” Vicky complained.

“You just have to get used to it. Just go all the way in,” I instructed her, wading in deeper past her, eager to get the waterline above my waist. She was right. It was chilly. But I knew from experience that it would soon become comfortable. As soon as the water was deep enough, I dived in.

It was incredible.

The water enveloped me, the ocean against my bare flesh, nothing between me and it. Oh, I had missed this feeling. I still remembered the first time I felt it. That transcendent liberation, that primal freedom, that feeling of achievement, that you had finally done something correctly after years of doing it wrong. How could anyone stand a swimsuit after experiencing the water it was meant to be experienced?

I emerged from the water. Vicky was still only up to her knees, watching me. I waved her over. “Come on, sissy. You’ve gotta get used to it eventually. It’s not skinny dipping unless you’re actually wet. You’re just streaking with wet ankles.”

“Ugh, fine,” she conceded, slowly splashing about until she had reached me. Now that the dark water concealed me, all my own worries had faded away, replaced with the exhibitionist excitement of being completely nude just a foot away from a beautiful, clothed woman. If she just reached forward, she’d be gripping my manhood. My vulnerability was delightfully erotic. If we got caught right now, I’d be the only one exposed. I was entirely at her mercy, bare before her.

For a time, we swam and played in the water, her future nudity unmentioned. As we moved about, she got more than a peek or two at me, but I enjoyed her curious looks. Perhaps she was imagining how big I could get.

“So how’s the water now?” I asked after we had been swimming for a while.

“Still a bit cold, but I don’t think I need to tell you that,” she said, pointing downwards and giggling.

I followed her finger and looked down. “Whatever, shrinkage is natural,” I said, trying to brush it off. On the inside, though, I wished I was packing more than a cold, shriveled inch at the moment. A lifetime of unwanted boners, and where was one when I needed it? I nodded towards her chest, where her hard nipples were visibly straining against her swimsuit top. “I’m not the only one. Your high beams are on.”

She crossed her arms in front of her breasts. “Pervert! Don’t stare!”

“Sorry…”

She removed her arms. “Oh, please, I’m just kidding.” She looked down at her ample breasts and shook them a bit, making them jiggle hypnotically. “You’re not the first guy to stare at them. And you’re not wrong, either…”

“It’d be harder to notice if you took off your swimsuit,” I observed.

“Yeah? And you’re sure you have no ulterior motive for suggesting that?”

“None at all,” I lied.

“Well, I guess now’s a good a time as any…” She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Here we go…” She reached down lifted it her top off over her head, releasing her voluptuous, ivory breasts, unkissed by the sun.

I watched, entranced, as they reveled in their newfound freedom, jiggling joyously. Her hard, thick brown nipples were rigid and firm, rising above her round, heavy, divine breasts. They hung a bit, their weight evident, swinging pendulously as she moved, their paleness in stark contrast to her otherwise sarcoline skin. In earlier centuries, she’d have been worshipped as a fertility goddess with breasts like hers, revered as an avatar of Aphrodite or an incarnation of Ishtar. How long had I imagined seeing these breasts, every time she wore a revealing top, every time she ran up to me, bouncing the entire way, and now, seeing them in person, that tanned triangle showing me just how close, yet how far, I had come to seeing everything. For the first time, I was actually thankful for the cold water keeping things in check.

She slid her top onto her shoulder. For a moment, I thought she’d stop there, but she muttered, “Oh, what the hell…” and reached down just below the water. She stepped out of her bottoms, straightening up with them in her hand, slipping these, too, over her arm for safe-keeping, the water keeping her lower half as concealed as her swimsuit had. Damn.

She finally raised her eyes to me, just in time for me to avoid being caught shamelessly ogling her breasts. I stayed silent, letting her savor her new experience. Ignoring me completely, she turned towards the ocean and swam out without a word, diving through the waves like a mermaid, the moonlight shimmering off of her sleek, wet body every time she emerged from the murky shallows.

I waited for her to return, enjoying her obvious delight. She swam with the carefree joy of a child. She eventually swam back to me, a broad grin on her face, her wet hair clinging to her panting chest like shimmering, black silk, rivulets of seawater running down her breasts like streams through the mountains.

“How’s it feel?” I asked.

“Amazing!” she gushed. “It just feels incredible. It’s so freeing, so liberating. Oh, it’s just fantastic! This is just what I needed. I feel…unleashed! Thank you so much for taking me, John!” She stepped forward and embraced me tightly, her full breasts pressing against my chest, her hard nipples poking me firmly, our bodies skin to skin as her crotch briefly pushed against mine before she pulled back. “Whoops. Sorry about that. Forgot I was naked for a second.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” she giggled. She let out a deep breath of air. “Ah, this is just so great. I can’t believe it took me so long to finally try this. I’m never wearing a swimsuit again!” I watched as she jiggled jubilantly, doubting that anyone would try to make her. She grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the ocean. “Come on, let’s keep swimming!” she instructed as I meekly followed.

Long after I was already tired, Vicky was finally ready to emerge from the waves. I followed behind her to the lifeguard chair, watching her thick thighs and ass move with each step. I grabbed my towel and began to dry off, while Vicky did the same, her assets shaking from side to side as she vigorously dried her hair. She removed her discarded swimsuit from her shoulder and let it fall into her bag.

Now that we were out of the water, I was finally able to get my first glimpse between her thighs. I peeked quickly, afraid of being caught, but it was enough to see that she was completely smooth, her small, pink lips exposed and free.

“John!”

“Y-yeah?” Has she seen where I was looking?

“I’m not ready to head back yet. You mind if we just hang out for a bit?”

“Sure. Just on the sand?”

She nodded upwards. “Let’s sit in the chair. No one else is using it.”

“Alright.” I climbed up and sat down on my towel. There really wasn’t that much room up here, though. But before I could object, Vicky had already climbed up and sat down sideways, her back against the arm rest, her ass on my hip, her legs just inches above my crotch, and her breasts in my line of sight.

“Isn’t this a beautiful view?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, they look great,” I replied. Odd question…

“They?” She followed my eyes, laughed, and punched me in the arm. “I’m talking about the stars, not my tits, pervert. But thanks. I’m glad you think so.” But, I noticed, she made no effort to hide them this time, nor did I bother to look away for a few more seconds.

“Oh! Yeah, that makes a lot more sense…” Probably should have realized that… I decided to change topics. “So, you really liked the story, huh?”

“I loved it. It just pulled me in. And it had a really good rhythm. Like, sexy part, calm part, sexy part, you know? My favorite part was when they’re fucking outdoors where anyone could catch them. That’s always been a fantasy of mine.

“I’m sorry I took so long to read it. I was just waiting for the perfect time. I wanted a nice, lazy day so I could just relax with some candles, a bottle of whiskey, and Tony. You know how when you’re really looking forward to something you keep postponing it until things are perfect?”

“Tony?”

“My vibrator,” she revealed casually with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You were…” I began, unable to finish my sentence. But I didn’t need to.

“Polishing the pearl? Tiptoeing through the two-lips? Jilling off? Obviously, John. What did you think I was going to do while reading smut? Flagellate myself for sinful thoughts? I masturbate when I read erotica, and yours made me orgasm. Three times. And twice more when I re-read it today. I wanted it all fresh in my mind before we went skinny dipping. I just kept picturing myself in your story, and I couldn’t help but touch myself…”

My cheeks smoldered. “Wow…” I noticed a subtle warmth against my hip, emanating from between Vicky’s pressed-together thighs.

She simpered. “Like I said, I loved your story. It was very…exciting. I even read some others that I noticed you had.”

“Oh yeah? Which ones?”

“Well,” she began, but her face screwed twisted into a look of confusion, followed by epiphany. She spread her legs and looked down. “Oh, damn, you’re hard? So that’s what was poking me. Wow, that was fast…”

“What do you expect? You’re talking about masturbating and orgasming to my stories and your breasts are just out.”

She chortled. “Fair enough, I guess. But wow…” She leaned in for a closer look, her breasts hanging freely. “I’ve never seen a white cock before.”

“Never?”

“I mean, not in person. I’ve seen them in porn, obviously. And in unsolicited dick pics. But all my previous boyfriends were Asian. It’s big,” she observed. She held her hands apart to measure my length and raised them up to her face. “Geez, my last boyfriend was like…this,” she said, moving her hands a good two inches closer together. “So…you know, feel free to say no if you’re uncomfortable with it, but could I just like, touch it a bit? Since I’ve never seen one before? I’m curious.”

“Sure,” I hurriedly replied before she could change her mind.

“Thanks!” She slid off the seat and stood on the lifeguard chair, pushing my legs apart to have room, her breasts resting on the wood, her face a foot or so away from my cock. She reached her hand out slowly, and tapped it gently. I twitched involuntarily. “Cool!” she awed. She gave it a brief, testing squeeze and released. “It’s pink. And really hard. Guess that’s my fault, huh?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Kinda.”

“I’ll take the blame for that,” she said with a grin. She gripped it firmly with one hand, her other hand tracing the crown of my head. “Nice, big head. I like it. Oh! Another twitch! Man, you’re easy to get going. Can I make you twitch just by talking dirty? I bet your cock would taste so good in my mouth, John…” she said in a sultry voice as she played with my thick pubic hair. My cock pulsated. “Well, that answers that question…”

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I murmured, trying my best to avoid jizzing onto my friend’s face.

She squeezed. “Feels like you’re having fun, too. It’s really warm, too.” She tilted her head and studied it further, her hands roaming up and down my shaft, her eyes wide. I felt like a science experiment, objectified, as she focused entirely on my dick, her fingertips following my veins. I wondered whether she even remembered I was there. She wrapped a hand around my shaft and started to move her hand up and down slowly. “Hm… Oh. Is this okay, John? I can stop if you want.”

Had she offered me a million dollars, I don’t think I would have told her to stop. “I’m fine,” I assured her. Her gaze was locked onto my shaft. Her nipples were hard and thick. Her cheeks and chest were flushed. I was pretty certain she was having as much fun as I was. It was an interesting experience to have someone so fascinated by my cock, though, I had to admit. I hadn’t had a girl so curious since freshman year of college.

I certainly had never expected to see Vicky’s hand on my cock, her delicate fingers wrapped around my hard, thick shaft, my manhood throbbing against her smooth, soft palm. I stifled a groan, my teeth clenched, my head tilted back.

She looked up at me with mild concern, aiming me away from her face. “You’re not gonna bust a nut, are you?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, warn me if you are. I know some guys have a hair trigger. Hell, I had one boyfriend who came in his pants the first time I took my top off. That was an unfortunately accurate bellwether or things to come… But anyways, I’m not looking for a facial tonight, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“I’ve got more endurance than that,” I claimed, with perhaps just a touch of false confidence. If Vicky kept stroking, I’d either have to tell her to stop or hope she was kidding about not wanting a surprise facial. I had to admit, though, her wording intrigued me. That was an oddly specific qualification. Was she looking for something else? Or was she implying she’d be up for a facial some other time?

“I’m sure that comes from practice. Do you jerk off a lot?”

“What?”

“I told you that I masturbate. Do you? Come on, all guys do, don’t they?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How often?”

“At least daily… Maybe twice or three times if I’m really horny or bored.”

“Yeah, same here. Geez. Sounds like you need a girlfriend.”

“You just said you masturbate just as much,” I protested.

“But I have Tony. He counts as my boyfriend until someone better comes along.” She paused for a moment and reached her hand down out of view. She looked me straight in the eye and calmly announced, “I’m really wet.”

“You are?”

“Hard not to be when I’ve got a cock in my hand. And a big, long, thick one, too… Not to mention the conversation… You know, John, I didn’t mention this before, but…there was another part of your story that I really wanted to try out…”

“Which part?”

“Well, it’s something I’ve never tried before, but…”

“Yeah”?

“It’s just…the way you described that New England clam chowder made it sound so heavenly.”

“Oh. W-well, there’s a place I know that-”

“I’m joking, dumbass. I was thinking about the part where Thomas and Cynthia were fucking outside. That’s what kept making me touch myself. I really got off on thinking about having sex under the stars where anyone could see,” she explained, her free hand now grazing against my thigh, her fingertips moist. “It’s just such an intense fantasy of mine, but I’ve never gotten the chance. Just talking about it is turning me on,” she confessed, biting her lower lip.

“I think it’s contagious…”

She laughed and squeezed. “Looks it. So…John…”

“Yes?”

“It’s totally okay to say no, but would you want to fuck outdoors? Like, here and now? I know we’re friends, and if you don’t want to risk our friendship that’s fine, but-”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/4z6yed/ive_always_wanted_to_go_skinny_dipping_mf_exh