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Subject: {ASSM} The Nudist and his Pupil (MFF, exh)  Tony Reeno
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Date: Wed, 24 May 2006 14:10:01 -0400
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The Nudist and His Pupil
By Tony Reeno

DISCLAIMER:  Of course this is a work of fiction.  Of course the
characters do not exist.  Of course this is solely borne out of the
twisted mind of the author, Tony Reeno.  And of course you should not
try this at home, under any circumstances.  These are trained
professionals.  You have been warned!  Finally, of course you should
not read this if you are under 18 years of age and/or living in a place
that deems erotic fiction (and by extension, pornography) illegal.

Comments and your own exhibitionist stories welcome.  Write to:
tonyreeno@yahoo.com


Chapter 1

I've long been a home nudist.  Even before I moved out of my
parents' house, I used to enjoy lounging around in the nude, in the
privacy of my bedroom - or throughout the house, if Mom, Dad and my
sister happened to be out.

My nudity is also tied to an exhibitionist streak.  I think the former
actually led to the latter.  Sure, I love to be nude because of the
comfort aspects, but in certain situations I also get a charge out of
being naked in front of others or if there's the possibility of
others seeing me.  Not everyone gives me this thrill but it does happen
from time to time.

When I moved out of the house to go to college, some of my dorm
roommates were a little taken aback - and even turned off - by my
choice of clothes (or lack thereof) around my place.  At the beginning
of my junior year, I got a job working in a convenience store and
worked long evening hours and most of one day a weekend to live in a
small third-floor efficiency apartment off-campus.

The place consisted of little more than a modest living room, a small
bedroom, a tiny bathroom and cramped kitchen, plus a small balcony
barely large enough for a lounging chair and lawn chair, but I loved
the freedom of a nude lifestyle.  I would sleep naked and if I
weren't going anywhere that day, I would remain naked after my
morning shower.  Then I would study, cook, watch TV, talk on the phone
and work and play at the computer, all the time wearing nothing but my
birthday suit.  In the afternoon the sun would hit full force on my
balcony and I'd lay out there in the buff and read and tan.  I also
liked sitting outside naked and having a drink and a smoke late in the
evening.  Quite often I'd cap off the night with a long and lazy
masturbation session and cum all over myself then go inside and jump in
the shower.

I had a girlfriend at this time.  We'd been together for almost a
year.  She was a little more conservative and uptight about my nudity.
Not that she minded all the good screwing we'd get into but she
usually threw on a T-shirt and her underwear when the fun was over.  I
stayed stark naked.  She would tease me and call me perverted for being
naked all the time.  She thought it was obscene when I got erections
while watching a movie or looking at online porn and got turned off
when I stroked myself openly.  I called her hypocritical because she
knew that my strong sex drive simply spelled out more good sex for her.
 She always pretended to be annoyed with my nudity - until it led to
another sex session.  In time, she wasn't just pretending.  Good sex
or not, Sheila grew increasingly conservative the longer we stayed
together.

I had a good friend named Rob who was used to my nudity and I stayed
that way when he came over.  I'd known Rob for many years (he moved
to another state after we graduated) and he knew I wasn't coming onto
him when I was naked.  We grew up in the same neighborhood and we
played together and were often at each other's houses.  When we were
at my house and in my room, I would often strip off.  This was
especially true at night, if he was sleeping over.  I got naked in my
room when he wasn't around; why should his presence be any different,
I reasoned.  Rob used to laugh at me but he made a big joke out of it.
I laughed along with him, but I enjoyed the comfort of being totally
naked.  I also began to experience for the first time the rush of being
naked around others.  Somehow, being the only one nude in a
multi-person setting made it even more exciting.

Years later, Rob would come over to my apartment and I never felt
obligated to dress for him.  Sheila would get there sometimes and find
us at the computer or watching TV, Rob dressed and me naked.  She'd
start with her usual prim and proper crap.  "Eww!  Get dressed, you
perv!" she'd rant, then toss couch pillows and other stuff at me.
I'd open my legs and grab my dick and wave it at her, which would
crack Rob up and make Sheila angrier.  Eventually, I'd make her sit
down next to me and we'd talk or get back to the movie we were
watching or whatever.  Sheila would continue to pout, but I'd catch
her sneaking glimpses at my phallus whenever she could.  This would
make me grow thicker and fuller down there, though never fully erect
until Rob left.

Sometimes Sheila brought one of her girlfriends over.  When she did,
she would always remind me more than once that company was coming over
for a movie night and that I should stay "decent" when I got home
from work or school.  "Yes, Mommy," I would tease.  I wouldn't
exactly put on tons of clothes during those nights, just a T-shirt and
some shorts.  I know they bulged up and I got a kick out of catching
her girlfriends crotch watching throughout the night.  Of course, when
I caught them doing so, I would get harder in my shorts and they would
get tighter and my package grew more prominent.  Fun times.

Another thing Sheila highly disapproved of was my large porn
collection.  This was way before DVDs and digital flick downloads and
the like, but I still had a large collection of videotapes and several
boxes of carefully organized magazines.  Of course, I also had a lot of
images saved on my computer and I was a meticulous archivist, always
saving virtual copies on Zip disks, CDs and the like.  (As I said, this
was several years ago, before DVD burning, memory sticks and the like.)
 When we first started dating, Sheila acted cool about the porn.  She
even enjoyed watching a video now and then.  Sometimes she'd get home
and find me naked and downloading porn.  Although I didn't tub my
phallus in front of her, she knew by its size and slickness that I'd
been doing just that.  In time, she really came to resent my porn
habit, even though it never interfered with what I thought was a great
sex life with her - in some ways, the best part of our relationship.
Eventually, all the nagging turned me off and I started to keep my
porno habit a lot more hidden around Sheila.

Besides working the convenience store during that time, another job I
took to earn more money was tutoring students who needed help writing
essays.  (My specialty was Computers & Information Systems but I
double-majored in English.)  My apartment was only a few miles from
campus, so I would meet these students at the library several times a
week.  Slowly, word spread that I was good at tutoring and I could help
students click up a letter grade with regular sessions.  By the end of
my junior year, I had quite a number of regular "clients."  I cut
way back on my hours at the convenience store and kept my one-on-one
writing workshops with students.

I had my share of male and female students during my senior year but
there was one sophomore that I started tutoring at the beginning of
spring semester that I really liked.  Her name was Michele and she was
a gorgeous brunette with formidable fun bags and a shapely figure.  She
was also the proverbial modest girl who's a hottie waiting to happen
but who doesn't realize her own potential due to lack of
self-confidence.  She wore slender wire-framed glasses that always
rested just a little crooked on her nose.  She had her nose pierced and
studded on one side, which showed me she was adventuresome to some
extent or another, but she dressed rather frumpily, in oversized
sweatshirts and looser pants and sneakers.  Still, there was something
about Michele that turned me on.  Maybe it was her quiet demeanor and
her little girl voice that reeked not only of innocence but of somebody
hungry to let a more adventuresome spirit out.

Something made me decide to push the envelope with Michele.  One day,
when I knew my girlfriend Sheila was tied up with an all-day family
function, I asked Michele to meet me at my apartment for her tutoring
lesson.  I told myself that I was not trying to set up a seduction
(yeah, right) and that I would not be cheating on my girlfriend if I
didn't end up doing THE deed with Michele (again, yeah, right).
Well, things turned out both much safer - and yet more interesting
- than I could have imagined.

I overslept that morning and woke up groggy.  I shaved and jumped into
the shower and toyed with my semi-thick penis as I soaped myself up.  I
was halfway through my shower when I heard the doorbell chime.  No way,
I thought.  Even with sleeping late, I knew Michele wasn't due for
another hour.

Or was she?

I grabbed a towel and ran to the door and peeped through the hole.
There she was!

I answered the door with a "Sorry!"

She was immediately on her way to all shades of crimson.  "No, I'm
sorry, but you said swing by at 11."

"Did I?"  I stepped back and let her in.  "I really apologize.
Let me go finish showering."

"I can come back."

"Don't be silly."  I directed her to the living room.
"Here's the TV remote.  I won't be very long."

I held the towel around my waist.  She was blushing and smiling and
doing all she could to avoid looking at me, but I know she still
admired my glistening chest and legs.

That put me in show-off mode.  Like I said, even though I enjoyed the
freedom of nude living, I also recognize that there's a strong streak
of exhibitionist in me.  I rarely gave in to these urges but every now
and then:  like the times when I was still living at my parents'
home, sitting outside in the backyard at night, not wearing a stitch.
Or on rare occasions at that house, walking from my bedroom to the
bathroom and back in the buff when I knew my mom or little sister was
around.  Or sitting outside at night in my small apartment balcony,
smoking and drinking a cold brew and stroking myself to a naked orgasm.
 Or-

Tutoring in the nude?

I wasn't THAT bold.  But I decided to don a thin pair of silky
jogging shorts without underwear and make that my only wardrobe for the
session with Michele.

We sat at the table, side by side.  I offered her a soda or beer.  She
declined both but accepted bottled water, which she sucked down in
liberal gulps from time to time throughout the session.

I was excited to be sitting next to my student while wearing next to
nothing.  The more I thought about my state, the more I could feel that
familiar delicious stirring in my loins.  Very soon it was obvious I
had a semi-erection underneath the thin fabric of my shorts.  The legs
were cut high.  With a little maneuvering I could easily make my
phallus fall out.

"I hope you don't mind the way I'm dressed," I said.

Michele smiled and shrugged.  "No.  Why?"

"It's just that I don't wear much more when I'm around here by
myself."

I cast a sideways glance her way and watched her cheeks go pink.
"Hey, it's your place," she said in a small voice and shrugged
her shoulders.  "You could go around naked and be entitled."

"Wait!  You've been peeking!"

"What?"  She blushed a deeper shade of pink and her smile fell.
"I have not!"

"Michele, I'm just kidding!"

"Oh," she said softly, then her pretty smile came back.  "You
know I wouldn't do that."

"Of course.  It's just what you said about my going around
naked."

"What about it?"

"It's true."

"It is?"

I nodded.  "I don't wear clothes when I'm home."

She squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable, yet it was obvious she was
also intrigued.  "Not ever?"

"Well, of course sometimes.  Like today.  I mean, I'm not wearing
much but I put something on if someone's not used to seeing me
nude."

"You mean some people are used to seeing you without clothes?  I mean
besides your girlfriend?"

I shrugged.

"So like, you'd actually hang out naked with company?"  Her eyes
went round and she smiled.

"Well, sure, if it's my girlfriend that's here, or a couple of my
best male friends."

She laughed.  "And they don't care?"

I shrugged.  "Like you said, it's my place, right?"

She nodded but the smile seldom left her face as we continued our
session.  And with all the nudity talk, I was now sporting a
semi-erection and its thick contour was quite obvious through the thin
material of my tight gray shorts.  In fact, with a little squirming in
the chair, I knew I could make my thick plum of a cockhead peek out.

I decided not to do so this time.  I didn't know if there'd be
another opportunity, but I thought Michele was too sweet to show her
everything all at once.  The effect might scare her away for good.

We concluded our session, she paid me and I walked her to the door.
Once, very quickly, I caught her staring at the obvious mound puffing
up the front of my shorts.
Then, as I opened the door for her, I decided to try to set another
adventure up.  "Would you like to meet here next time?"

She looked a little startled by the question.  "Are you sure?"

I laughed.  "It's up to you.  I just thought it was less crowded
than the library and we didn't have to worry about finding a privacy
room or a quiet corner."

She nodded.  "That's true.  Are you okay with it?"

"Sure.  And you?"

She nodded.  "Fine with me.  See you same time next week?"

I nodded and we parted.

Then I shut the door and through the peephole watched her descend the
stairs to the lower level.  I didn't move to the couch or bedroom.  I
simply stripped out of my shorts, grabbed my now throbbing erection and
tugged and tugged it to full hardness.  It didn't take me long to
pump it to a thick reddish hue with a very round purple head that soon
sent several long creamy ropes splashing onto the inside of my door
with such force that I collapsed and knelt in front of it.


Chapter 2

I looked forward to my next rendezvous with Michele.  The week seemed
to pass very slowly, in spite of the fact that I stayed busy with my
own classes, two tutoring sessions I conducted with other students
(both male, and both of whom I met at the university library), my job
and my girlfriend.  But my greatest source of pleasure that week was
the anticipation of another get-together with my pupil Michele.

All week I thought about how I might push the envelope without its
seeming too obvious.  I think my solution was too contrived in the end.
 On the other hand, maybe she was so taken aback by my boldness that I
pulled it off.

Michele was scheduled to come around at the same time as the previous
week.  That would allow me the perfect excuse to be wearing a towel and
nothing more when she rang the doorbell.
It all worked perfectly.  When I answered the door wearing a towel
which I'd folded over twice to make look like a short loincloth, she
smiled and immediately started to go pink on me again.

"Haven't we played this scene before?" she said.  "Don't tell
me you were showering."

"Not with water," I said.  "I did that earlier.  But yes, I was
showering.  Sun showering."

She laughed.  "You mean sunbathing."

"Bath, shower, what's the difference?"

She laughed again.  I noticed that she didn't seem very ill at ease
and quickly composed herself.  "Shall I set up on the kitchen
table?"

"Sure, I said.  I'll be right back."

"Getting the suntan lotion off?" she asked.

"Right.  I promise I'll make it a super fast rinse."

And I did.  The daredevil in me even left the bedroom and bathroom
doors open, on the off-chance Michele would come into the bedroom and
try talking to me.  She didn't.

On the pretext of being in a hurry, I barely dried off and left myself
glistening after the shower.  Then I tied a fresh short towel around my
waist and stepped out into the tiny dining area.

"Hi."

She looked up and immediately took note of the yellow towel.  I thought
it made a nice contrast with my bronze skin.  And I tried to keep her
at ease and started a casual conversation right away.  Had she
submitted a finished draft of the essay we worked on last week?  She
had.  Did she get a great back?  She did, a B.  Great.  An improvement
from the previous paper, right?  Right.  And so on.

I sat next to her and started reading her latest essay, marking it up
and correcting a few sentences when necessary, jotting down a few
questions in the margins to ask her to revise and expand certain
sections.

My dining room table was round and made of glass, so we actually could
see each other's legs - and other things - if we peeked around
the books and papers scattered on the table.  I sat with my legs
stretched in front of me.  The towel barely covered my lap.  If I dared
stretch fully, I was certain to give Michele a view of my semi-erect
penis and balls.

Then I sat up and placed her notebook on the table .  We moved our
chairs closer and I started going over certain sections of the essay.
As I did, I felt my phallus throbbing and growing.  All of a sudden I
knew without looking that the head was surely sticking out beyond the
length of the skimpy yellow towel.

I glanced down surreptitiously.  I was right.  There was the thickening
uncircumcised head, totally exposed and rosy hued but moving to a mauve
color as it puffed up thicker and rounder!

Suddenly, Michele squirmed.  Apparently, she'd caught sight of my
exposed member too.  I pretended not to notice, placed one foot atop
the chair and continued to go on about her essay.  This made about one
third of my erection visible.

For a second or two, I didn't care.  Let her see it, I decided.
She'll enjoy it.

And then I thought I might be moving too quickly.  I pretended to
notice my exposure and sat up straight and said a loud "Oh, wow!
Sorry!"

Michele laughed.

"I hope I didn't offend you."

She was blushing so deeply.  This made me even harder.  Although I was
fully covered now, the thick lump in front of the towel made it obvious
I was sporting one rock-hard hard-on.  I'm not overly large down
below - about six and three-quarter inches when fully erect - but
somehow the lump I made under the town made my shaft look even larger.

"It's all right," she said.  "I know it happens to guys all the
time."

"Oh you do, do you?" I nudged her shoulder with mine.  "Who told
you that?  Your boyfriend?"

She straightened her glasses.  "I don't have one."

"Oh, so you crotch-watch?"

"Stop it!"  She slapped my shoulder painfully.  I pretended to try
moving away, stretching my legs.

Out popped my penis again.  It wasn't rock-hard anymore but more of
it was exposed this time.  The circumcised head was round and smooth
and a light purple.  The shaft was semi-long in its halfway aroused
state and very thick.

"Sheesh!" I said, reached down and very slowly and dramatically
grabbed my phallus and tucked it back under the towel.  "Behave!"

Michele laughed.  "So you talk to yourself too?"

"Always," I said.  "You know I'm crazy."

She smiled.  I rose.

"Where are you going?"

"I think I better go change into some shorts or I'm going to keep
having accidents."

"Like it matters now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's not like I haven't seen you, right?"

I shrugged.  "True."

"And you said you liked to go around naked in your house, right?"

"Absolutely."

"So what's more comfortable, shorts or a towel?"

"The towel, of course."

This time she shrugged.  "So why don't you stay that way?"

I couldn't believe it.  I got the dizzy high that supreme moments of
showing off bring you.

Here was my pretty pupil actually giving me permission to remain
practically naked in front of her, which would give me ample
opportunities to continue exposing myself!

And that's exactly what I did for the next forty-five minutes or so.
Several times throughout the remainder of the session, I felt myself
fall out of the confines of my towel.  Each time I would let about a
third of my member hang out thick and semi-erect before pretending to
notice it and hiding it again.  Once I left it out a lot longer than
before until Michele started to giggle.

"What?" I asked.

"Look out below," she said and pointed to the glass tabletop.

Although not totally hard, my thick penis was on full display down
there, as never before, complete with my fat round balls.

"Yikes!"  I made a great fuss of fumbling with my equipment, then
put it under the towel again.  "Take cover!"

"Your soldier's safe and camouflaged again," she said.

"Michele!" I widened my eyes. "That's naughty."  Then I
winked at her.

"Oh?  I'm naughty?  I'M naughty?  Look at the pot calling the
kettle black, Tony!"

And that brought more laughter and ended the tutoring (and showoff)
session.

I walked Michele to the door after she paid me.  I felt almost guilty
taking her money, since she had already compensated a thousand times
for the session by being such a fun audience to my antics.

"See you next week," she said.  This time we didn't even discuss
whether or not we should meet at the library.  It's as if it was
understood that future tutoring lessons were to be held at my
apartment.  And since she suggested it, I was elated.  That meant she
was perfectly cool with everything that occurred today, I reasoned.

"Should I arrive at the same time?"

"Sure," I said.

The moment she left, I pulled off the towel, went to the bedroom,
jumped on my bed, grabbed a pillow and rubbed myself against it until I
was on the brink of exploding.  Then I rolled onto my back and sunk my
index finger into my ass as I kept manipulating my erection with my
other hand until I came all over my stomach.

I couldn't wait for next week.  I knew things were going to be even
hotter during Michele's next STUDy session.


Chapter 3

As things turned out, it was I who called Michele for a change of time
and venue.  "I have to work at the convenience store but I'd still
like to meet, just later.  Can you be over at around two?"

"Fine," she said.

"Great.  And bring a bathing suit with you."

"Why? Does your apartment complex have a pool?"

"It does, but I don't want to use it."

"Then why the bathing suit?"

"Because we're going to the beach."

I lived about a half hour from the Padre Island National Seashore at
the time.  I thought it was the perfect spot to take things even
further with Michele.

She arrived on time and I met her down in the parking lot, cooler in
hand packed with beer and munchies.

"Work first," I said, "then some play."

She smiled that cute little smile of hers.  I studied it and somehow it
didn't seem as innocent and na�ve as it had two short weeks ago.

We drove toward the Island and when it came time for the most used
turnoffs I kept driving my Jeep down the highway.

"Where are you taking us?" Michele asked.

"Just a little further out," I said.  "It's nicer a few miles
down.  More secluded and private."

She laughed.  "You would know."

"Why do you say that?"

"I bet you go out there and nude sunbathe."

I just gave her smile.

"Right?"

I finally nodded.

"I knew it."

I cranked up some mellow rock and kept driving, deciding to go down to
the furthest access road.  Finally, Michele spoke again.  "So are you
going to today?"

"Do what?"

"Go naked on the beach."

"Oh, I hadn't planned to.  I don't want to make you feel
uncomfortable in any way."

She didn't say anything for a while so I prodded.  "Would I?"

She shrugged.  "It's not like I haven't seen all of you
already."

"You haven't."

"Well, what haven't I seen?  Your butt?  I'm sure it's a nice
butt.  I'm sorry!"

I laughed.  "Sorry for what?"

"For saying the last thing.  I mean, I really think it's a nicely
shaped butt.  You must work out."

"Not a lot.  I run a little and lifts some light weights."

"It's enough.  But what I meant is, I haven't seen your butt but
that's no big deal because we all have one and what I have seen is
what you'd probably want to keep most private and-"  She blew her
cheeks out and I burst out laughing.  "Geeze, I guess I'm not
making much sense, am I?"

"Actually, you are," I reassured her.  "Basically, you're
saying I can go naked on the beach if I want, right?"

She fixed her crooked glasses, brushed aside her brunette mane and
nodded.  "Now you see why I need help in communication and why I have
an English composition tutor."

That warmed my heart to her.  "Don't be silly.  Stop putting
yourself down.  I think you've made great progress since we started
meeting."

"Bull."

"No, I mean it."

Then I turned off onto a narrow road that eventually led us to the
pounding Gulf of Mexico and a long stretch of sand.  I'd banked on
the beach being sparsely inhabited out here.  For one thing, we'd
driven pretty much as far as we could from this particular direction
(short of going much further down to Brownsville and South Padre).  For
another, it was a weekday.  We seemed to be in luck.  Far in the
distance I spotted an SUV.  Much further down was a small pickup with
an olive green tent pitched beside it.  I drove the Jeep beyond these
cars and kept going another half mile or so, then stopped.

Then I turned up the AC.  "Comfortable?"

Michele smiled.  "Very."

"Then let's get to work."

"Hey!  I thought we came to get in the water."

"First your lesson.  Show me your latest essay."

"Before I do that," she said, unzipping her backpack and pulling
out a pink folder, "check this out."

"All right!" I said.  It was a final version of the paper we'd
worked on the previous week, retyped and graded by her comp professor.
There were a few glitches circled here and there, along with one
section that still needed development.  But I liked the B+ scrawled in
green ink at the top of the first page.  "Congratulations!"

I'd seen Michele go up from C papers to high Bs.  I couldn't be
happier for her.  "We'll have you scoring As by the end of the
semester."

"Ha!" she said.  "Fat chance."

"We will if you keep a positive attitude and believe in yourself and
your tutor.  I know that sounds corny but it's true."

She nodded and reached out and gripped my upper arm.  "Thank you,
Tony.  I am so happy.  And it's keeping my idiot father off my
back."

I was doubly surprised.  She'd mentioned her home life and she'd
touched me.  Progress indeed, in oh so many ways today.

And hopefully more to come.

"So what's next week's essay prompt?"

She pulled it out and pulled out a very rough draft.  "This is in
pretty bad shape, girl."

"I know.  But the assignment hit a nerve."  She read it aloud.
"'Write about a tough problem you've encountered and the steps
you took to either solve it or avoid it.'"

I nodded.  "I see what you mean."

I read over her paper.  It talked about her father, who was prone to
physical abuse since Michele was a child.  "He drove my sister out of
the house years ago and sent her flying into the wrong sort of
person."

"Michele, I'm so sorry."

"I wish I could get the hell out of his house too - but I can't.
Not now, anyway."

"But you will.  Just wait."

"Will I?  Do you think so, really?"

I nodded.  "What did I just say about believing in yourself?  Your
home life is all the more reason to excel in school so you can get out
on your own as soon as possible."

She turned away and stared at the pounding surf and a trio of gulls
bobbing in the wind, floating lower, lower still, and landing beside
something no doubt very tasty (to them) on the surf.

We worked on the essay for a solid hour and I did all I could to help
her improve it and give her some ideas to further develop it in the
next draft.

"Time to play!" she suddenly shouted.

"But-"

"No more buts, except the one you're going to bare!" she said and
then laughed as she pulled off her reading glasses, climbed out of the
Jeep and quickly stripped off her shorts and halter.

Another surprise before my eyes:  Michele usually dressed in clothes
that greatly obscured her body.  Yet here she was in a bright blue
bikini that was a beautiful contrast to her milky skin and dark
brunette shoulder length, windblown hair.  She was hardly what you'd
call slender.  In fact, she would have likely been considered
perfection in the late sixties and seventies:  very heavy natural
breasts were barely contained by the blue bikini halter.  These fun
bags gave way to a lovely hourglass figure with a slightly protruding
stomach.  As she walked to the surf I watched her formidable buttocks
hug and swallow some of the cloth of her bikini bottom, leaving each
cheek half exposed.

"Oh boy," I muttered as I got out of the Jeep.  I quickly stripped
my shirt and tossed it into the car.  That left me wearing black and
red swim trunks.

Michele turned around.  "Oh, please.  Don't even pretend," she
called out.

"Pretend what?"

"That you want to keep those on."  She pointed at my trunks.
"They're nice but I bet you're itching to wear your birthday
suit."

"You're right."

"So wear it."

"You're sure?"

She nodded.

So I pulled my swimsuit down and tossed it into the Jeep.

Michele turned and ran toward the surf.  I raced after her.  She turned
as I made it to the water and she walked backwards as I fought to catch
up to her.  Pounding waves covered my ankles, calves and knees and then
rose up to my thighs.  That left my bronze chest and arms exposed, and
of course my balls and phallus, which was thickening up and slapping
against my thighs each time I took a step.

"Sheesh!" Michele cried out.

"What's the matter?" I called back.

"You shave down there."

"Who needs hair there, anyway?"

She laughed and when I got closer she splashed twin handfuls of water
in my face.

"You brat!" I cried and launched myself at her.  She squealed as I
slammed onto the surface and became a human bomb that sent water
splashing all over her.

She kicked me under water, or tried to but I was beneath the waves and
she missed me altogether.  Then I caught her foot and pulled her to me.
 I heard her giggle and scream from the surface.  Then I trapped her
left thigh in both of mine and I know she felt my thick member slap
against her leg repeatedly before I let her go and rose to the surface.
I was having a blast and she seemed to be having fun too.  We continued
to horse around for a while, then fought the current until we made it
safely to shore.  I'd brought a couple of large beach towels along;
Michele had a big one too.  We used both of mine to lie on and hers to
plant our cooler.

I didn't think twice about putting my clothes on.  I figure Michele
had been made it perfectly clear she didn't mind seeing me in the
nude so I decided to go for broke and keep wearing nothing more than my
birthday suit for as long as I could get away with doing so.
We spread our towels on the side of the Jeep that cast a long fat
shadow across the sand.  I sat Indian style while we had sandwiches and
chips and bottles of frigid spring water, followed by a couple of beers
(me) and a wine cooler (Michele).  I sat facing Michele and I caught
her stealing glances at cock.  I wasn't totally erect but I was
showing her that I was thick and puffy and on my way to sporting my
just under seven inches if I wanted to get that way.

"I have a small tent in the back of the Jeep," I said.  "I can
put it up if you'd like."

"Thanks, but I'm going to work on my tan."  She moved her towel
into the sun, reached into her bag and pulled out a brown tube of
lotion.

"Let me help you with that," I said, and she hesitated only a
moment before handing me the tube and stretching onto her stomach.  I
took in her voluptuous hourglass figure again, lusting over her
generous curves and the beautiful swell of her ass cheeks largely
revealed by the too-tight and too small bikini bottoms.  I slathered my
lotioned hands over her back and moved slowly down toward her lower
back.  Then I squirted more lotion onto my hands and rubbed it all over
them before sliding them over her calves and thighs up the exposed
hemispheres of her lower buttocks.  I couldn't resist slapping her
right cheek when I finished.  "All done.  Now turn over."

Again she hesitated, then rolled over and let me repeat my
ministrations over her chest and upper body, including the valley
between her fleshy mounds and the slopes of her upper breasts.  Then I
worked her stomach and thighs and drew my slick fingers very close to
her tight protruding fabric-covered mons before slapping at her inner
thighs and outward and around her fleshy legs, down her calves and even
rubbing her pretty feet for a little while.
"Feels nice," she murmured.

I looked up and tried to read her face but it was nearly impossible
with her wearing dark sunglasses.

I thought of asking her to do my body, but she seemed too relaxed to
bother her, so I slathered some lotion onto my chest and worked my
hands over my arms.  Then I worked my thighs lower legs, bending
forward.  I caught movement and it seemed Michele had turned her head
toward me.  She may or may not have been watching me at this point.
Just in case:  I grabbed my cock with my suntanned hands and rubbed my
hand down the shaft.  In some respects, it looked like I was giving
myself a hand job as I gave my member a few lazy liberal pumps and
cupped my balls.  Or maybe I was just applying suntan lotion.
In any case, whether or not she was watching my ministrations soon
became obvious when she sat up and said, "Let me do your back."

"Thanks," I said, inwardly thrilled at the prospect.  I turned away
from her and soon felt her much smaller hands working my shoulders and
upper back.  Then she worked her way lower.

"You can really tell you take care of yourself," she said.

"Well, I'm hardly any sort of athlete," I said.

"Yeah, but you do enough."  Then I felt her hands rubbing my lower
back and suddenly they slid over my buttocks and came back up and then
down again, her fingers sliding dangerously close to the valley between
my ass cheeks.  Then she stopped for more lotion and worked my legs and
thighs.  I risked a quick look down and saw her kneeling behind me,
working my legs, which were more than adequately covered with suntan
lotion by this point.  I could see down Michele's blue bikini top.
Her breasts were formidable and had pushed the top outward to reveal
extremely generous portions of her melons.  And I could also see over
her glasses.  It looked like her eyes were staring intently on my ass.

"Thanks again!" I said.  "Now it's time for me to fly a
kite."

"You're kidding!" Michele laughed in surprise.

I got up and pulled out a kite from the back of the Jeep.  "Does this
look like I'm kidding?"

She laughed again.

"Genuine vintage Bat kite," I explained.  "Black and white and
winged and yellow-orange creepy eyes!"

I raced down the shore with the kite and let it go.  The sea breeze
quickly took it up and I gave it a lot of string and watched it swiftly
ascend into the bright hazy heavens.

Michele was watching me from our towels.  I put on a show for her,
enjoying the feeling of exhibiting myself, trotting left and right and
doling out more string for the kite.  I kept my back to her a lot of
the time, sometimes stooping low with spread legs, which put my ass on
display.  Sometimes I'd turn around and let her have a frontal show.

Eventually she started working on her tan and I flew the kite.  After a
while, I decided to go lay out next to her.  It took a while to bring
the kite down but I finally reeled it in and placed it back in the
Jeep.

She rolled over and we lay together for a good hour.  Then we went back
into the Gulf to cool off.  After another long horsing around session,
I asked Michele if she wanted to go for a walk.  She said sure.  "Do
you dress for such outings?"

"If I did they wouldn't exactly be 'outings,' would they?"

She smiled.

We walked for almost half an hour.  The sun was much more tame now but
still had a fair bite.  I enjoyed walking naked beside Michele and I
think she got a kick out of my brazen behavior.  At least until we got
closer to a parked truck.

"My God!" she exclaimed.  "We better go back."

"Why?  It's just a Mom and two kids."

"Aren't you freaking out that they're going to see you?"

"Why?" I asked.  "If those boys are hers, she knows exactly what
the male of the species looks like."

I decided to freak Michele out even further. I waved at the blond woman
playing Frisbee with the boys.  She was many yards away but it was easy
to tell that she was in her late thirties or early forties, and doing
an impressive job of keeping fit.  Her boys were also blond and
probably a year or so apart.  One looked eleven or so, the other a bit
older.

The woman was short and a little chunky but she wore her two-piece
bathing suit confidently.  She smiled and waved back and surprised us
by launching the Frisbee at us.
I raced ahead of Michele, caught it and tossed it back to her.  Then I
rejoined my pupil.

"You're too much," she said.  Then she said no more because the
Frisbee was sailing right to her.  I ran away from Michele and beckoned
and she tossed the Frisbee and I caught it, spun around and tossed it
back to the blond woman.

Then her boys came and we made a large pentagramish configuration and
we tossed the Frisbee around for a quarter of an hour or so until
Michele gave it a wild zing that sent it higher than our other tosses
and the wind caught it and took it hovering over a sand dune, out of
sight.

"I am so sorry!"  she yelled.

The blond woman laughed and we joined her.  "Don't worry.  The
boys'll find it."

"Nice day," I said as I trotted up to the woman.

She nodded and removed her sunglasses.  "What's left of it."

I was already experiencing a major thrill from simply walking around in
the buff with Michele.

Now I actually felt a lightheaded rush standing beside this woman.

"I'm surprised at how empty it was here today," she said.

"It's usually this empty during the week," I said.

"I'm not used to having a weekday off, but sometimes you just have
to blow off work."

I nodded.  "I totally understand."

Michele came up to us and I introduced her.

The woman smiled at her.  "I'm Mary.  That's Ricky way over
there, hunting down the Frisbee beyond the dune.  Steve's my younger
son, standing over there, waiting for his brother."

"You have two handsome boys," said Michele.

"Hungry ones, too," Mary said, stooping low to pick up a small ice
chest and load it into the back of her truck.

"Come to think of it," I patted my stomach lightly.  This caused
both Michele and Mary to glance at my stomach and for a moment, I
caught Mary glancing down at my dangling member, half-thickened by
being on full display.

"Guess we better head out too, right?" asked Michele.

I nodded.  "Nice meeting you Mary.  Maybe we'll see you out here
again."

"That would be great," she said.  "Maybe next time you two can
get in on the Frisbee toss a little earlier."

We said our goodbyes but not before I stooped low and walked a small
radio over to the passenger side of her truck.  She took it from me and
thanked me.  Once again, her eyes seemed to dart down to my thick
penis.  Then I turned and gave her a parting shot of my ass.
Michele and I returned to camp and packed our own materials and piled
everything into the back of my Jeep.  Then we climbed aboard.  Michele
didn't say a thing when I placed my towel carefully over my seat and
climbed inside while still totally naked and sat on it.

Finally, when we'd left Padre Island far behind and were moving
toward home, she asked, "So, when do the clothes come back on?"

I smiled.  "After we rinse the salt water and sand off the Jeep, of
course."

She started laughing but I could see she was a little nervous.
"You're insane!  You're going to get us arrested."

"No, it's getting dark now.  Nobody can see what I'm wearing or
not wearing.  Besides, I'd be the one arrested," I said, getting
off the highway and down a sidestreet.  "You'll be responsible for
bailing me out of jail."

"Ha!  With what money?"

"Get it out of my wallet."

I drove off the main highway and found a self-service carwash.  There
were plenty right off the highway but I remembered using this one on
other occasions because it was off the main drag and more isolated.  If
it were a weekend day, it would have been full anyway, but since it was
a weekday and the place was off the main drag, the lot was completely
empty.
I drove past the vacuum pumps and the first row of car wash ports and
parked way at the back, at the most isolated port.

Then I jumped out and so did Michele.  I tossed some coins in the
machine and the power spray-gun came alive in my hands and I washed the
engine out, the entire undercarriage and all four tire-basins.  Of
course, this involved a lot of moving about and bending and squatting,
which put me on prime display for Michele, who hung around near the
front of the stall and kept glancing nervously toward the quiet street
beyond.  A car passed by occasionally but I knew that anyone spotting
me would have just thought their eyes had tricked them if they saw a
totally naked man washing his vehicle.

I remained naked until we got to my apartment complex.  Only after
parking did I don my swim trunks back on.  Then I climbed out and
walked Michele to her car.

We prepared to part ways and agreed to another study session next week
on the same day (though not necessarily at the beach again).  Then she
reached out and hugged me and thanked me for a wonderful day.  I seized
the moment.  I pulled her closer for a lingering kiss and pushed her
lightly against her car.  She felt my erection pressing against her
stomach, I'm sure.  Boldly, I grabbed her small hand in mine and
placed it over the bulging cloth of my trunks and made her feel my
rigid length.  She gave the slightest gasp before kissing me again and
rubbing her fingers over the length of my lengthening shaft several
times.  Then, quicker than I could have thought possible, she
extricated herself from my grasp, opened the car door and drove off
into the night, leaving me frustrated but also curiously satisfied.


Chapter 4

I'm not one to mull over decisions once I've made them.  I didn't
sleep much that night.  Instead, I did a lot of thinking.  That taken
care of, I knew it was time to take action on my decisions.

The next morning, I called my girlfriend Sheila and had her meet me at
a nearby park on the bay front.  I thanked her for some fun times then
said I wanted to break up with her.  She was furious, then admitted she
had been unhappy for a while, thinking us an imperfect match.  I
pointed out that no match was really perfect, but some were better than
others.

Sheila agreed.  We agreed to part amicably, although it was obvious she
was upset because I called it quits on the relationship before she
found the nerve to do so.

Late that afternoon I called Michele.  She seemed surprised to hear
from me.
"I'd like to see you tonight."

She paused on the other end of the phone.  "We're not due to meet
for another week," she said softly.

"This has nothing to do with your tutoring sessions.  I need to see
you, though."

She agreed to stop by my apartment in a few hours.

And she did, shortly after eight.

I served her a wine cooler and continued to drink my Merlot.  "You
don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

She blushed and endeared herself to me even further. "No, why?"

"I'd like to be yours."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm rapidly getting really crazy for you."

She laughed.  "You don't know me."

"I do.  We've done our share of talking when we're not talking
about your writing assignments.  I know what movies you like and what
you like to eat and even what veggies you hate."

She laughed again.  "I'm such a blabbermouth!"

"Hardly.  You know me too.  And you're tolerant of my quirks."

"You don't have any quirks."

"Oh, but I do.  You don't even know some of them."

"Like what?"

"Well, I'm a porn junkie, for one."

"Like every other guy?"  She laughed.  "That's not a quirk,
that's just being a normal horny guy."

"No, but I really like porn.  Like, a lot."

She shrugged.  "I don't care, as long as it doesn't get in the
way of you and me."

"Believe me, it won't."

"Then look at your porn.  Do you mean movies?"

I nodded.  "Vids and stuff I find on the web."

"No prob, really.  What other quirks are you talking about?"

"Well, just one other, and you know it already."

"If you mean preferring to wear nothing at all in the house - and
out of it, from what I saw last night! - I don't mind, if that's
how you're most comfortable."

"I am.  And I must confess, it's a bit of a turn-on for me to know
that I'm exposing myself at times, especially to beautiful and
innocent girls like you."

She blushed more deeply and played with some of her brunette strands
before brushing them back.  "I'm hardly innocent."

I moved in closer and sat next to her and gently pushed her onto the
couch pillows.  Then I climbed over her.  "But you have a
girlfriend," she whispered.  "It's wrong."

"It's not wrong.  I don't have anyone else in my life."

"That's a lie.  Don't lie to me, Tony.  You've talked
about-"

"I broke up with her," I said.

She shook her head.

"It's true," I continued, then explained.  "We were
incompatible, really, good for a few fun times in the beginning and
then both of us tried to force issues.  We tried to change each other,
in some ways.  Or more precisely, we weren't tolerant of who we
really were and criticized each other.  More her than I, but I'm not
putting all the blame on her.  Our behavior eventually put a strain on
a good thing.  Besides, I've been falling in love with you lately.
Yesterday was the clincher."

"What was so special about yesterday - to you, I mean?"  She
paused, then said more.  "Because it was special to me too, believe
me."

"Was it?"

She nodded.

"Why?  How?"

"I asked first, so you go first."

"Fair enough.  I love that you weren't put off by my behavior on
the beach."

She frowned.  "What was so bad about it?"

"Nothing, really, but a lot of girls wouldn't have wanted me to be
naked around them."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."  Then, in a very soft voice:  "You
have a great body."

"Thank you, but I'm not fishing for compliments.  My point is that
you were genuinely okay with my nudity.  I'd like to keep being
myself and part of me loves the comfort and thrill of being naked.  I
get the feeling you'd be okay with that."

"Of course."  She laughed.  "I would probably even enjoy it
myself, on occasion."

"See!  That's great!  I was getting those vibes off you."

"Not that I'd be naked all the time or as comfortable as you, but
why not wear your birthday suit at home - or wherever you can get
away with it - if it brings you comfort and pleasure."
I smiled.  "You're not getting an argument from me about that."

"And your girlfriend didn't like you to be naked?"

"She liked our lovemaking, but she couldn't stand that I'd lounge
around nude and cook nude and be nude all the time when I was home."

"But it's your place," said Michele.

"I know.  But she was uncomfortable with my exposure, I guess."

"Well, I was too."

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay," she said.  "I didn't finish.  I mean, I was
a little nervous at first.  I didn't know if you were some weird
pervert or rapist or something.  But I understand you much better now,
in the short time that I've known you.  Even when you're naked, I
feel I can trust you - in fact, a lot more than I can trust other
people I know, including my shit father."

"Sorry to hear that.  About your dad being a shit, I mean."

"Thanks, but I don't want to get into that now.  I'm just trying
to say that I really do feel comfortable with you.  And I like you too.
 A lot.  When you got naked at the beach, I could tell pretty quickly
you weren't trying to make me do something I didn't want to do.
You were just being yourself and having a little fun.  As for hurting
others with your nudity, how could you?  I mean, even that woman and
her boys on the beach didn't give a fuck - excuse my language -
about your exposure."  She laughed.  "Actually, they probably liked
it."

I felt myself begin to harden against her thigh.  "You think?"
She nodded.  "That's probably why the woman threw the Frisbee your
way and we all played for awhile.  I could tell she liked your body.
She kept checking you out when we stood around talking afterward."

"Really?"

She nodded.  "It was fun to watch her.  As for her boys they were
fine with you, weren't they?"

"Yeah, I guess.  They sure acted blas� about my nakedness."

"Exactly.  I'm sure it's because they've seen naked folks out
there before - and because they don't have any equipment that's
any different from yours - well, except that yours is a whole lot
bigger."  Her cheeks crimsoned.  "And I can't believe I just said
that."

I knew it was time.  I let my weight rest more firmly on her and kissed
her on the lips and before long, she parted hers and we enjoyed a long
French session that ended with her rubbing me through my shorts and a
whisper from her, telling me to "Take these off."
I got up, slid off my shorts and climbed onto the couch again,
crouching over her large breasts and squeezing them through the tight
black T-shirt that encased them.  Even through the shirt and the bra I
could feel their weight and softness.  Then I grabbed my erection at
the base with one hand and pushed it into the softness of her mounds
and then brought it up to her face and slapped both her cheeks with it
like a thick flesh club.  She seemed surprised but smiled anyway.  Then
I fed my shaft into her mouth and she took it in and I was sliding in
and out of her moist cavern and I used my other hand to support myself
on the arm of the couch and I started to moan and she let my cock pop
out of her mouth and hit her in the face obscenely, beautifully, then
took it back in.  Our eyes locked and she never stopped telling me to
cum with those orbs until I shot a load that began on her tongue and
ended up all over her face.

"I've always wanted to do that," she giggled, wiping cum off her
face.  Then she stared at her fingers, turned to me and sucked my cum
off them.  "That too," she said.

I pulled her close and we kissed deeply.  "I think we're going to
be very happy together."

She hugged me tightly.  "I hope so."


Chapter 5

My double major in English and Information Systems and Technology
helped me tremendously.  After graduation, I decided to try to stay
afloat via freelancing.  I gave myself six months to make things work.
After that, I thought I would have to try to find permanent employment
with one specific company.  I soon learned that it was tough to launch
into my own business without establishing myself as a competent and
reputable employee, so I altered my plans and got hired by a company
that sent me out to do work building computer systems for small to
medium sized businesses.  We took care of everything from initial
hardware purchasing to software mounting and selection of programs best
suited for the company to maintenance and software-system updates.  I
even got involved in training some personnel onsite.

Michele was working on her elementary education teaching degree
throughout this period.  When she was halfway through her program, I
quit my year-and-a-half old  job for the company that hired me.  By
then, I'd gotten to know quite a few people while working around town
at various businesses.  Some individuals at these businesses
recommended me for solo work at other companies they knew.  I provided
good service  and because I was a solo operator, I gave them better
rates than any software companies in town.  The company that initially
hired me called me disloyal, fired me and threatened to blackball me.
I looked at it as being enterprising and told them to go ahead and try.
 Privately, I worried.  Had I slit my own throat in the area?  Could I
make it on my own, simply through freelancing?

I could indeed, I found out.  And when I wasn't working on a computer
job, I was working on tech writing software manuals for various
companies.  I proofread and revised some manuals and wrote others from
scratch.  The work - and more important, the rather sizable checks
- came in at a very steady rate.

So steady that I had a most amazing graduation gift to offer Michele.
She still had almost nine months before she wrapped up her degree, but
I decided to give it to her in advance.
"Why the long drive?" she asked as I took us for out of the city
limits, down countless farm roads that seemed to stretch forever.

"You'll soon see."

"But you said that twenty minutes ago."

"And I mean it now."  I turned onto a much narrower road and drove
up to an isolated three-story home.

"Who are we visiting?" Michele asked me.

"Each other?"

"What?"

"Come on in."

"Tony, I don't understand."  I showed her the huge sunken living
room, the kitchen and dining rooms, the upstairs bedrooms, the giant
third-floor room that could easily be converted into an office or
library or combination of both.  All the time, I ignored her volley of
questions.

"The basement's finished too."

"Basement?  Nobody has basements in South Texas."

"True.  The guy who built this house came from the northeast.  And as
you saw, the attic's been turned into third floor office space.
That's going to be my special part of the house.
You can do whatever you want with the rest of it."

"What?"

"If you want them, that is."  I swept my arms around the master
bedroom in which we were standing.  "The place is yours, my love -
if you want it.  And if you'll marry me."

She came up close to me.  "Do you know what you just said?"

I nodded, all smiles.

"Don't joke with me, Tony."

I pulled my final gift out of my jeans pocket, opened the black felt
box and showed her the diamond ring.  "Does this look like I'm
joking?"

"Oh, Tony!  I can't imagine-"

"Those aren't the words, Baby.  'Yes, I'll marry you' are the
right ones."

She nodded her head and I watched tears spill down her cheeks.  "Yes,
yes, yes.  Oh, yes, my love!  Forever yes!"

We hugged and kissed for a long time and I started to feel very aroused
but forced myself to speak.  "One last surprise."

I moved her to the window.

"Oh my God!  A swimming pool!"

"And not a dinky one, either."

I raced her downstairs and she stood by the empty cavernous maw in our
backyard.  The pool was very large and shaped roughly like a fat
jellybean.  One side of it sported a gorgeous landscape of flowers and
shrubs growing around a rocky landscape from which a waterfall would
cascade when the water was turned on and the pool was in use.  A
smaller circular pool stood adjacent to the main one.

"Is that a kiddie pool?" asked Michele.

"No, it's a hot tub and Jacuzzi."

"Oh my God!  Tony!"

"I know how much you love to swim," I said.  "And I know how much
you like to soak and have fun in a Jacuzzi."

She turned around.  "And I know how much you hate clothes.  Tony,
we're so isolated out here."

"More than you realize.  We own fifty acres and the closest neighbors
are about three or four miles that way."  I pointed back toward town.

"My God!  You won't ever have to dress!"  She came over to me and
unbuttoned my shirt and undid the belt of my jeans.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you into your favorite outfit.  Or do we have to rush
back?"

"What for?  Dinner isn't for hours."

"Then get out of your clothes and into your birthday suit."

I did, then we took a walk around the yard.

"I love the little trails," said Michele.

"All landscaped to my specifications," I said.  "There's even a
proverbial babbling brook on the far end over there.  A fake one, of
course - I had them rig piping and a water supply in that direction
to create a pond.  Then they added the plants, flowers, goldfish
and-"

"Goldfish!"

I nodded.  "And extra trees that will grow in with time and join the
ones we have already, and several benches along the trail."

We rounded a corner and she saw what I meant.  We sat under a massive
oak and admired the scenery and our house, mostly hidden by the foliage
but still visible when the breeze blew the vegetation around.

"And check this out," I strolled onto the grass barefooted.

"Is the grass as soft as it looks?"

I nodded.  "All around the property.  I had the landscapers seed it
with the best and softest grass and they'll be stopping by to see
that it stays that way, and a lush green, too."

She pointed to the far corner of the property.  "I see where it ends
and wilderness takes over."

"A dense woods all around us, yeah.  Hard for anyone to sneak up on
us for that reason.  It's so damned prickly beyond our little haven.
Our little Garden of Michele."

She laughed and came over to me.  "You're such a sweet man."

"And don't you forget it."

"No, I won't."

She kissed me.  "Thank you for a fantastic day.  There's just one
more thing that will make it absolutely perfect."

"Oh?"

Underneath the large oak, she undressed quickly.  I studied her body
flecked by sunlight in our little grotto.  She bent over to adjust her
clothes and make a makeshift bed for us and I thrilled to the swell of
her gorgeous buttocks.  Then she rolled onto her back, smiled up at me
and extended her arms.

"Make love to me," she said.

And I did, climbing onto her and sinking into her with such force that
she gasped and then we kissed and she clung to me as I rode her hard,
stopping only to turn her over and slam into her from behind while
working her clit with one hand and only when I felt her let go with
whimper after whimper of pleasure did I release my own torrent of lust
completely, fully.
We lay side by side and watched the branches sway high overhead.  The
hiss of the wind slicing through the leaves lulled us and the sky grew
a darker shade of blue and fire tinged the horizon as the long day
moved toward a wrap.

I got up, stretched and grabbed my phallus, which was still semi-thick.
 "Time for a pee, my dear."

"Anywhere but in the pond," she said, looking up dreamily.

I moved over to her and straddled her and pointed my cock downward,
over her breasts.  "Anywhere else?"

"Oh, you naughty man!"

"I thought I was a sweet man!"

"You are.  But aim that thing away from me.  I'm not that kinky!"

"Not yet anyway," I said and winked at her, causing her to blush.

I moved away and shot a stream of piss that arced and landed far away
from us.

"Not yet?  What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Just you wait and see!" I said, aiming my cock her way.  She
squealed and rolled as my stream came close to hitting her and she
snatched her shirt out of the way just in time to keep it dry.

"You're shameless!" she said, all smiles.

"And you love me just the way I am," I said, my stream coming to a
halt, my penis then shooting a few more short bursts that landed near
her pretty bare feet.

"You bet, lover."  She walked over and grabbed my cock and shook
the last drops off it.  "All done?"

I nodded.

"Then let's go.  I'm starving."

"Same here."

"But-"

"Butt?"  I grabbed her ass, now covered by her shorts.

"Behave.  I meant 'but' with one 't.'"

"Oh.  But what?"

"But before we go, let's walk through our new home one last
time."

I liked that she called it "our" home.  "Fine.  Then you have to
dress me."

She grabbed my penis and stroked it lovingly.  "Oh, do I?"

I nodded.

"Or you can have me drive us back into the city and you can dress
yourself, when we get closer to the city limits."

"Even better!"

She laughed and reached behind me and slapped my ass.  "I thought
you'd like that idea, you naughty sweet man!"


Chapter 6

The next five years were bliss in so many ways.  Michele and I moved
into the house and she continued to work on her teaching degree.  I
continued to work on the independent information systems jobs and write
tech manuals.  In time, I was getting more orders for tech writing jobs
than I could accept and still keep up with the actual on-site work.  I
decided to quit the freelance system building and continue to write the
manuals.  Once again, I was nervous because it was such a bold move.  I
worried about my writing work drying up.  What if I got out of the loop
and writing contracts stopped coming in?  I had a huge house and
property to maintain and a new wife to support.

Things turned out all right.  The writing assignments kept coming in
and it was all I could do to keep up with them.  And then Michele
graduated, was hired by a local school district and her added income
provided us with a major cushion of support.  We started taking some
terrific vacations - usually places where total nudity wasn't
frowned upon - and developed even darker tans.

Michele never became a total at-home nudist.  She swam and sunbathed
naked now and then.  She also slept in the nude.  But she usually put
on an oversized T-shirt for lounging around the house.

She loved my nudity and said it made for easy access to my charms.  She
was right.  So often when she came into the room to say hi or watch
some TV with me, my penis would end up in her hands or in her mouth.
Sometimes she would tease me for hours, working her fingers around it
and making it thicken and grow rock hard, then letting it come down and
grow semi-flaccid before working it up to full hardness again.
Eventually, after an entire movie's worth of torture, she would
increase her hand's pumping until I gushed all over my stomach.
Other times, she would swallow me and take as much of my thickness into
her mouth as she could while her little hand pumped me at the base
until I jetted streams down her throat.

The house provided as much seclusion as I had hoped.  I could wander
around the backyard naked and never be spotted.  The same went for the
front yard, if I were careful.  Traffic was incredibly sparse down our
road.  If we had a half-dozen drive-bys in a day, it was an extremely
busy day in our area.  Sometimes days would go by and ours would be the
only vehicles on our roadway, except for the mailman and, once a week,
the lawn crew and pool service.

I got pretty used to walking around the front yard naked too, after
Michele dared me to go get the mail naked one lazy Saturday morning.
After that, I made the daily trip to the mailbox without a stitch of
clothing on.  Sometimes, just for fun and to shock Michele, I would sit
on a long bench under the house's wraparound front porch as she drove
home from work in the afternoon.  Her eyes would grow saucer round as
she spotted me sitting naked in the front yard.  She would smile,
laugh, honk her horn and then I'd walk around and join her at the
garage.

We weren't hermits, but neither of us liked much company.  I was
always a very private person and so was Michele.  Every now and then,
we'd have one of her old girlfriends over for dinner and a movie, or
one of mine over for same.  But most of the time, we were perfectly
happy to enjoy each other's company in complete isolation, and that
meant we could be very lax about what we chose to wear or not wear
around the house.  Sometimes, I would go almost a week without wearing
a stitch.

Inside the house, I was always completely naked and did everything in
the nude, including writing and adding to my ever-growing porn
collection.  Unlike my former girlfriend, my new bride was true to her
word and never once frowned on my porn library.  She liked some of it
and would cycle through some of the pictures and watch some of the
action clips with me from time to time.  I was a hopeless case, though,
and she just couldn't keep up with my voracious appetite for smut.
Many late nights after a bout of lovemaking, Michele would awaken and
find me missing from the bed.  Then she would climb the stairs to my
third-story office loft and find me naked and downloading porn and
stroking away.  She always laughed and said the same thing, "Let me
take over for you," leaving my hands free to work keyboard and mouse
and download and save the images faster.  Michele would either sit next
to me in a spare office chair and stroke away at my member, or she
would grab a pillow off the small couch in my study, rest it on the
floor and squeeze under my desk and kneel in front of me, using her
hands and mouth on my phallus.  Usually, these sessions ended the same
way.  I would finally fixate on one particular image and then tell her
I was ready for my "big bang."  Michele would nod, slip out of her
nightshirt and then place my thick rod between her pendulous breasts
and I would hump them from my slouched position and she would help by
cupping them around my shaft and sliding them up and down until I
splashed all over them and on her neck, chin and face, and on myself.

Some of my favorite images to stroke to were the gorgeous nudes I took
of Michele.  Initially, she was quite reluctant to let me take her
photo, but with patience and coaxing, she allowed me a few sensuous
shots in semi-states of undress.  In time, these became full nudes.
And in more time, she allowed me to take shots of her out of the
bedroom.  After a year of marriage, I had stark naked shots of Michele
in every room of our large house.  And then we took the fun outside.

She let me take nude pictures of her in the pool.  I bought several
digital cameras, each more expensive than the last, each with more
elaborate lenses.  I loved shots of her floating naked on a silver
raft, on her stomach, her gorgeous ass on full display and her tanned
legs straight behind her.  To reiterate, Michele was never a slender
girl and she hated exercise.  She said she never needed much working
out to stay reasonably toned when she was younger, but her sedentary
college years combined with her all-day elementary school teaching
began to work against her battle with the bulge.  (Although Michele was
on her feet all day, she didn't get a lot of rigorous working out and
she said she was tired to exercise when she got home.)  Her arms, legs
and torso grew fuller.  Her hips had a more enticing flare.  Even her
face grew a little larger, but again, not fat.  The best part about her
added weight was an increase in her already large breast size.  And her
buttocks grew rounder and plumper.  As far as I was concerned, all her
bulges blossomed in the right places.  The added weight only made her
look curvier and sexier.  More than anything or anyone, she looked like
a character out of a Frank Frazetta fantasy painting - one of his
full-bodied damsels in distress, or one of his ferocious
don't-mess-with-me, spear-bearing cavegirls.
Eventually, Michele grew increasingly unselfconscious about the way she
posed for me.  Her positions became more natural and vivacious.  She
had always shaved her pussy very closely and left little more than a
treasure trail above her thick lips.  Shortly after we started taking
pictures, I got her to shave completely bald and keep the hair off.
She was a little taken aback at first, but in time, grew to love her
bare look.  My worshipping her body boosted her self-confidence.  I
never tired of telling her how alluring she looked and nicknamed her
"Sexy."  She blushed and refused to believe I meant what I said by
calling her that, but in time, came to accept that she really was very
sexy to me.  I think she was most flattered by the nude shots of her
that I used for wallpaper on my computer.  Every few hours a program
would splash another shot of a nude Michele.  And along with framed
photos of us around my loft office, I also framed several large shots
of Michele wearing no more than her birthday suit and a smile.

These tributes to her body eventually made Michele more willing to
allow me to take more risqu� shots of her.  At first, she absolutely
refused to let me take shots of her masturbating - not even fake
non-insertion shots.  Yet in time, naked Michele would pose willingly,
legs splayed out and bent at the knees, a crooked leer on her face, as
she pumped everything from candles to huge vibrators into her puffy
aroused pussy.  I shot us together, too, both screwing and with Michele
worshipping my engorged cock.  She would stare straight into the
camera's eye as she bobbed the head of my cock against her inner
cheek, making her own flesh bulge out.  When I got her to consent to my
shooting a series of BJ photos that culminated in her receiving a very
messy facial, I knew that there was no photo I would like to shoot that
Michele would refuse.  I was right.  Several nights after the facial,
in which, gooey faced, she smiled for the camera, she let me shoot a
series of shots of my hard-on sliding in and out of her tight anus.

The only request Michele made was that I not use the actual sex photos
for wallpaper.  "I might freak out if I come in here and I see
them," she explained as we sat in front of my computer, cycling
through our ever-growing personal library and burning another series of
shots onto a DVD.  I readily agreed and continued to reserve my
computer tributes to Michele to solo shots of her in all her nude
glory, both in and out of the house.

As the DVD finished burning on the computer the night Michele made her
request, she thumbed my spent cock and made me wince.  "Ooops!
Sorry, Hon.  Did I hurt you?"
"Not at all," I said.  "You just caused an involuntary pleasure
shiver.  I'm sort of maxxed out right now."

Michele nodded, cupping my dick in her hands but simply holding it now,
not tugging at it.  "I know what you mean.  My pussy has been banged
and eaten so many times tonight that the kids are going to wonder why
their teacher is walking funny around the classroom tomorrow."

We shared a laugh, then Michele sobered.  "I never thought I could be
this happy, Tony."
I leaned over and hugged her.

"I mean, it's like we have our very own private Garden of Eden out
here."

"Or Garden of Michele, as I like to think of it.  It's just you and
me, Baby," I said.  "Oh, and the pool service crew Wednesday
morning.  And the lawn crew for a little while Wednesday afternoon."

"Wednesdays must be torture for you," said Michele.

"Why?"

"You must feel imprisoned in your clothes."

"No.  I'm just careful.  I stay naked and inside when the workers
are here.  And they leave quickly.  If they need to see me, I don a
pair of running shorts.  So you're right, Sexy.  We do have a
round-the-clock Garden of Eden."

I had no idea, in that fourth year of our marriage, that our Garden was
about to be disrupted.


Chapter 7

Three months later, we were about to doze off when the phone startled
us to sitting positions in our dark bedroom.  Michele picked it up,
listened for a while, spoke a few words, listened some more, then asked
the caller to hold on and hit the receiver's mute button.

"It's Connie," she said to me.

I sat up straighter.  "What about her?"

"Her stupid jerk of a husband just went over the edge - bigtime."

We knew it was coming.  Michele had long ago told me that she and her
friends had predicted the worst for Michele's older sister.  But
Connie stuck it out with Bob for years.  "What happened?"

"He beat her up."  She wiped a tear from her eye.

"Are you kidding?  She's a physical therapist, short but feisty and
strong.  How could-"

"Bob is an animal, Tony.  He beat Connie up."

"Is she-"

"She's okay, if you call a black eye and bruised body okay.
She's left him.  Finally."

"Thank God for that.  Is she coming down from San Antonio?"

"Yeah, but she can't stay at our childhood home.  You know how she
and Dad get along."

"About the same way you and your father do."

Michele nodded.  "She's headed this way but she doesn't want to
stay at Dad's."

"Tell her to come here."

"Tony, are you sure?  I mean, that's why I put her on hold.  I was
going to ask if she could live here until she gets settled and finds a
job in town."

"Of course she can.  She won't be a bother."

"Remember, Connie has Tommy and Lisa."

"Sure.  I know her kids'll come with her.  They better be, to get
them away from Bob.  The kids aren't going to be a problem.  How old
are they again?"

"Tommy is nine.  Lisa's eleven.  Tony, you're sure?  I mean,"
Michele bit her lower lip, "it might be awkward with our lifestyle.
We're not exactly conventional, are we?"

"You mean my lifestyle."  I pointed to my naked member resting
heavily on my thigh.  "I can fix that and cover up."

"But Tony, I know that you love to be nude."

"True, but it's not like your sister will be here forever.  And I
can wear next to nothing and still be mostly decent, right?"

Michele beamed, leaned over, hugged me and planted a wet kiss on my
lips.  "Thank you!  Thank you so much for being so sweet and
accommodating.  You're the best!"

Connie, Tommy and Lisa moved in a few days later.  She quickly landed
several temporary physical therapy assignments around city clinics and
hospitals.  The temp agency that helped her secure the positions
assured her that something permanent would break for her soon enough.
In the meantime, Connie wanted and needed some healing time.  She spent
many nights crying on the shoulder - literally - of her little
sister.  Michele was over eight years younger than Connie.  Still,
Connie really needed her "Baby Sis" during this tumultuous time.

I took to wearing light cotton shorts while Connie, Tommy and Lisa were
around.  Connie didn't waste time investigating the various local
school districts but she held back enrolling her kids in any specific
school until she found out which job she would land.  Tommy and Lisa
put our pool to constant use, along with our expansive yard and walking
trails.

Our guests had full run of the house except for my third-floor study.
I explained that I needed full privacy to write - I did - but
Michele and I also turned my office into our temporary den of iniquity.
 Since it was off-limits to everyone but my wife and I, I was naked
from the minute I shut the study door.  Michele thrilled to come
upstairs in the evenings.  We both knew my routine.  Before our guests
arrived, I would work all morning, from about seven to noon, most days.
 Nights were spent playing with Michele outside and in the house, and
downloading all sorts of smut from the Internet.  Michele told Connie
"a little white lie" as she explained it.  She said I worked a few
hours in the morning and about three hours in the evening, from around
8 to 11 and sometimes later.  This would allow me time to spend
upstairs "doing whatever you want to do," she explained to me and
winked.  "Only if you come up and visit me throughout the night," I
said.  She agreed.  And she did.

Michele would join me and strip naked and we would make love on the
couch in the large study's living room area.  Sometime we tore into
each other on the floor.  At times I made her cry out and she blushed,
staring round-eyed at me and asked, "I wonder if Connie heard
that?"

"Never mind Connie," I said.  "I wonder if the kids heard it?"

She giggled and slapped my upper arm and thrust herself up to meet my
pounding.

Other times she'd come up and find me naked and masturbating as I
downloaded images.

She would quickly takeover with her hand or mouth.

Michele was that very special breed of girl who didn't care if I gave
myself endless orgasms while enjoying porn, as long as I reserved some
of my best stuff for her.  And I always did.  I never failed to please
her.  But she knew that my libido was basically off the scale.  She
never felt insecure or threatened by this fact.  In fact, sometimes she
wasn't in the mood for sex herself but would just come up and give me
a blowjob or handjob.  Over the years, she became expert at giving me
prolonged blowjobs and really prided herself on combining them with
long handjob sessions.

One time when Connie and the kids were staying with us, Michele came
upstairs, pulled off her oversized T-shirt (her usual wardrobe at
night), which left her totally nude.  Then she tossed a couch pillow on
the floor beside my computer chair, told me to continue downloading
porn in the nude and proceeded to give a delicious combination
handjob-blowjob.  Nothing unusual there - she did this quite often
- but this time when I blew several ropes of milky cum that trailed
from her puffy lower lip to her chin, she merely stood up and donned
her oversized T-shirt and prepared to leave.  I motioned to her cum
mustache and goatee.  "Better clean up!"

She turned and cast me a devilish gaze with half-lidded lusty eyes.
Then she winked at me and asked, "Why bother?"

I felt my member stir again and she grabbed her pink shirt up from
where it hung a little higher than mid-thigh and pulled it up high,
exposing her bare pussy and pendulous breasts to me.  Then she was out
the door.  I was sure she cleaned herself up the moment she exited the
door, but I marveled over Michele's increasingly vixenish behavior.
She knew that little bit of daredevil would turn me on all over again
and followed through with it.  She was truly a gem.


Chapter 8

One night Michele came upstairs and caught me downloading some non-nude
cuties off the web.  "Wowza!  Those are pretty young looking
babes."

"Oh, come on.  They're old enough."

She shot an eyebrow up.  "Old enough to what?"

"Ummm. . .to look cute?"

She laughed and reached down and fondled my half-hard penis.  "And to
stir things up a bit, I see."

I downloaded a few more shots.  The nubile teens in short-shorts and
tiny bikinis and filmy lingerie combined with Michele's ministrations
and did the trick.  Pretty soon my phallus was rock hard and throbbing
and practically shoving her little fingers apart.

"Pick a favorite," she said softly.  "Enlarge her picture and
then stand up."

I chose a gorgeous little redhead with milky white skin and bulbous
lips.  "Stand up?"

"Yeah."

I did as I was told.

"Now," Michele spoke softly, never missing a stroke with both of
her small hands working my shaft, "concentrate on that oh so sweet
and innocent face, my perverted husband, and enjoy the next few
minutes."

She knelt and took me into her mouth.  I shoved my erection down her
throat and apologized.  Her eyes widened a bit and she shook her head
and continued to pump me into her wet orifice, her warm tongue swirling
around and around and around my shaft until she sensed I was about to
cum.  Then I knew why she wanted me standing up.  She reached between
my legs and shoved a moist index finger into my asshole and fucked me
in and out with it as I jetted shot after shot of sperm down her
throat.

She released my dick first, then slowly slid her finger out of my ass.
I collapsed onto the chair.  "That," I half-sighed, half-gasped,
"was fan-fucking-tastic!"

Michele smiled a cummy smile and wiped her mouth with her fingers and
started to lick each, one by one.  "I certainly aim to please, Baby.
And since I've now discovered yet another kinky dimension to you, I
think we need to let you indulge it whenever you want."

"Yes?  You don't think me too weird?"

She laughed.  "I already knew you were weird, and I knew what I was
getting into before I got into it, if you know what I mean.  No problem
here.  You're weird in a really, really good way.  Make that ways.  I
know you're just being more honest than literally millions of other
guys, old and young, single and married, widowers and daddies."

"I don't understand."

"Yeah you do," she said, sticking out the tip of her tongue and
licking the head of my cock clean with one swirl.  The sensitivity made
my body jerk up and she laughed and squeezed my penis affectionately
and kissed it softly on the side.  "You just like to think that my
mouth was hers."   She pointed to the screen and the young cutie
still posing across there.  Michele hit the keyboard's space bar.
"Or her."  She hit it again.  "Or her or her or her or even -
oh, my, she is tiny, isn't she?  But yes, her too.  That's fine.
My husband has a kinky but very active imagination.  And as long as he
keeps me happy, who am I to complain?"

"Keep you happy, I will," I said, standing up and shucking off her
short T-shirt.  Then I pushed her onto the leather chair.  "Very
happy."

"Tony, what-"

"It's your turn."

"But there's no need.  Not right now."

"But I want to," I said, making her slouch low and then draping her
legs over my shoulders.  I stared at the completely bald and puffy
pussy in front of me, before swooping low and planting my lips on her
lower ones.

"Oh my God!" Michele half-said, half sighed.  Then she giggled.

I came up for air.  "What?  Did I hurt you?"

When she spoke again, it was in her very best little girl voice.
"No, silly!  It's just that I suddenly realized why you like me
totally bald down there at all times."

I reached down and started to pull on my thickening penis.  "Maybe
you're right, baby."

"Ooooo!"  She pushed my head back onto her smooth mound.  "Keep
that up!"

"What?  This?"  I swirled my tongue into her slit and fucked her
with it for several long seconds.

"Or this?"  I stroked my now rock-hard penis.  The mauve head and
several long inches extended from between my cupped fingers.  I waved
it at her like a thick baton.

"Both, silly boy!" said Michele, then sucked her thumb into her
mouth and warbled around it.  "Huh-wee up!"

I hurried.


Chapter 9

"Let's go."

"Go?"  It was another late evening.  Michele and I had been playing
up in my study earlier.  Then she went downstairs and left me to
download some more pics.  Now she was back, standing by the door of my
private chamber, beckoning me.

"To swim in the pool."

"But what about our guests?"

"Tommy and Lisa are asleep," she explained, "and Connie is
out."

"Should I put on a towel, just in case?"

"Oh, where's the daredevil pervert I married?"

"Well, where's the shy little Miss Innocent I married?"

"You corrupted me, you bad man!"  She laughed and took my hand and
pulled me out of my computer chair.  She was dressed in a tiny forest
green bikini that revealed much of her voluptuous figure.  Her breasts
were literally spilling out of her cups and more than half her ass was
hanging out the micro-bottom.  When she didn't swim nude, Michele's
wore the skimpiest swimwear she could find via Internet mail-order.
(In other words, her stash of Wicked Weasel bikinis grew larger by the
month.)

We frolicked in the pool for a good long while.  I swam underwater and
between her legs at one point and pulled her tiny bottoms down.  I
heard her squeal above water and surfaced to be slapped on my upper
arm.

Then I cornered her in shallow waters and pressed her against the lip
of the pool and she felt me hard against her stomach.  One of my hands
snaked into her bottoms and my fingers penetrated her deeply.  She
rocked on my fingers and very soon fell into a steady rhythm brought on
half by her movements, half by the turbulent pool water.  I rammed
another finger into her and she let out a gasp and both her hands shot
off the lip of the pool where they had been supporting her.  She
gripped my forearm with her hands and used it like a dildo,
manipulating my fingers and soon her eyes all but closed and I saw the
whites of her eyes as she began a long series of convulsions that
frothed up the water around us.

"Okay," she said, after a long time.  "Simply delicious,
lover."

Now she sought out my firmness and cupped it and then she had my rod in
her tiny hand and began a slow steady pumping of her own.

She looked down and her hand stopped a moment.  She was gripping my
hard-on like a rock star grips a long fat microphone.  Her fingers
encircled as much of it as they could and her thumb ran the length of
my shaft, her fingernail pointed up and perpendicular with the bulbous
violet mushroom head.

Michele looked at me, made her eyebrows dance and laughed.  "You
like?"

"I love," I murmured.  It was my turn to grip the edge of the pool.
 I did and brought my legs up where they were buoyed by the water and
snaked around her upper body.  I scissored my feet and gripped Michele
between my legs.  My shaft sprang into the air, freed of the water and
her hand momentarily.  Then Michele gripped it again and swallowed what
remained uncovered by her fisted grip.  I sighed, then yelped as her
fingers released me and she took most of me in her mouth.  "You've
gotten so good at swallowing me," I said, floating on the surface.
"Damn, baby, you've just about swallowed everything I have to
offer."

I watched her wet head pump up and down, up and down, then heard her
giggle.  She pulled her mouth off and continued to stroke me for a long
time.  Then she smiled and winked.  "I think you better let me go and
sink back down."

"Oh, you do, eh?  Why?"

"Because my sister is about to walk out and join us."

"What?!"  I forces my body to sink below the surface, turned around
to stare at the mostly dark house.  Sure enough, the orange glow of a
low-lit lamp revealed Connie pushing the sliding glass door open,
shutting it and moving our way!

We thought we were being such daredevils coming out without towels.
Michele was fine in her tiny suit but I had absolutely nothing to cover
my total nudity.

Then I felt Michele's hand circle my semi-hardness below the water.
Instead of making my tumescence go down, her grip made me puffier.

"Hi!" said Connie, coming over to the lip of the pool above us.  I
drifted behind Michele and hid my lower self behind her buttocks.  Once
again, the tiny slit of fabric between her mostly exposed buttocks did
nothing but make me grow harder as I pressed up between her large
buttocks and the silky fabric.

"Hey, sister," said Michele.  "How was your afternoon and
evening?"

"The first part sucked," said Connie.  "I stopped by the
lawyer's and he said it'll be at least another couple of weeks
before all the divorce papers are finalized.  Sorry, guys.  I guess
I'm going to have to keep imposing on you two for a little longer."

"Don't even mention it," I said.  "It's really great to have
you and the kids here."

Michele nodded.

"You're sweet to say that," said Connie, "but you need your
privacy, I know."

"Hey, you're family," I said.  "What's there to hide from you
all?"

Connie smiled.  "Thanks for feeling that way."  Then she smirked.
"But there are a few things that privacy is good for - like your
skinny dipping."

"Who's skinny dipping?" asked Michele, putting her hands on her
shoulders and pointing to her tiny bikini straps.

"Your hubby, Michele," said Connie.

"Oh, can you see me?" I asked.  "Sorry about that."

"No, I can't see anything significant but-"

"Hey!" Michele yelped, splashing a little water on her sister, who
squealed and jumped back.  "There's plenty of significance down in
this here pool!"

That broke us all up.  It was good to see Connie laughing.  Slowly but
surely, she was getting back to some semblance of sanity and good
humor.  "I'm sure there is, sister dear.  I only meant I can see
your hubby but I can't see him.  I mean, I can see from the side
angle over here that he's not wearing any bathing trunks of any sort
because there's skin from the top of his handsome face to his
shoulders and chest and the side of his hips and the bare feet I see,
sort of, way down below the water, all thanks to the low-beam but very
cool pool lights you guys had installed into the pool when you built
it.  But you're doing a good job of covering him up - as if you
need to."

"Okay, miss hotshot," Michele said as she pushed herself off the
side of the pool and drifted several feet away.  "Since you're
acting so confident, take this!"

"Oh my," said Connie.  "Now I definitely see some
significance."

We laughed again.  I was conscious of the pool lights revealing my
bobbing semi-hard penis below the water but made no move to drift
closer to the edge of the pool.  Instead I shrugged my shoulders.
"Thanks for being cool."

"About skin?  Come on, what's wrong with it?  It's your pool and
your backyard.  And your house, for that matter.  I'm just grateful
the kids and I have a place to stay."

"But we'd never dream of making you uncomfortable," said Michele.

"Absolutely not," I said.

"Who's uncomfortable?" said Connie.  "With skin?  Not this
fun-lovin' gal.  In fact, I was always more carefree about my body
than my sister."

Michele looked at me and nodded.  "It's true.  That's why I
played that joke on her right now and let her see you.  Connie was
practically a home nudist when we were young.  Maybe that's why your
own home nudity never phased me that much, Tony."

"You mean Tony doesn't wear that much at home?" Connie asked.

"He'll go days without donning so much as a pair of shorts when
it's just the two of us," explained Michele.  "He reminds me of
you when we were growing up."

"Well, I wasn't that bad," said Connie as she sat by the lip of
the pool and stuck her feet and calves in the water.  "But I didn't
mind hanging naked in our bedroom now and then."

"Remember my girlfriends when they came over?"

Connie laughed.  "Michele and her friends thought I was a slut or
something."

"I didn't!" Michele slapped her sister's thigh.

"Not you, you're right, sis.  Sorry.  But your friends got
uncomfortable whenever you came upstairs with them and you caught me
reading or studying naked."

"Or watching TV or whatever," said Michele.  "I got tired of
using the 'My sister was about to take a shower' and 'My sister
just came out of the shower' excuses."

I laughed along with the sisters.

"They didn't buy it after awhile, I'm guessing," said Connie.

"Well, if they didn't, they never really said much about it, except
that my sister sure took a lot of showers."

We all laughed again.

"So really, if you want to skinny dip or whatever, fine with me."

"Actually," said Michele, "I seldom do, but Tony loves to, since
he's always naked anyway."

"Now I'm really sorry for intruding on your space," said Connie.

"Please don't be," I said.  "Sure, I love being naked but I
love having you and the kids here."

"Well, really, don't cover up on our account.  Before things got
really bad between Bob and me, I didn't much bother with clothes at
home."

Michele's eyebrows shot up.  "What about Tommy and Lisa?"

Connie shrugged and smiled.  "They saw me.  So what?"

"Connie!" Michele said.  "I'm shocked."

"Don't be, you little prude."  Connie kicked her right leg and
splashed her sister with water.  "What's the whole point of this
conversation?  That there's nothing wrong with skin, right?"

"Right," I said.  "Michele doesn't wear all that much either,
don't let her fool you."

"Well, I gathered from all the T-shirts, long and short, that she
wears around the house as soon as she gets home from school.  Sometimes
she's a little careless when she bends over to reach for this or
that.  When the shirt is short, I've seen her cute butt-cheeks."

"Stop it!"  Michele whined.  "But weren't you embarrassed to go
around naked in front of Tommy and Lisa?"

"Why should I be?  I honestly think it's a healthy way to raise
them without hang-ups about skin."

"Bravo for you, Connie," I said.  "I'd raise kids the same
way."

"Really?" Michele said.  "No, don't answer that.  I had
suspected that already."

We all laughed.

Connie stood up.  "Speaking of Tommy and Lisa, I'm going to go
check on the kids, then grab a beer and come back out.  Any takers?"

"I'll have a beer, sure," I said.

"And bring me a wine cooler, please," Michele added.

She smiled at us.  "Sure thing."

I watched her walk away.  There wasn't much light but enough
moonlight to see her undulating toward the house.  She was taller and
much leaner than Michele and very good-looking too.  Then she became a
dark silhouette framed in the faraway sliding glass door.
Suddenly, I decided to act on my instinct.  I pulled myself over the
lip of the pool and extended my hand.  "Come on, Sweetie."

Michele tried to act nonchalant but I could tell she was just a little
concerned.  "Tony!  Where?"

"Down the path, to our grotto and the bench underneath the great
oak."

I spoke as we walked around the twisting trail.  "You know, it really
does make sense that you took to my own love of nudity so quickly,
since your sister is a lot the same way."

"Absolutely.  I guess I never told you about Connie's nudie thing
when we were young."

"Sounds like she kept it up."

Michele nodded.

We reached the bench.  I sat down, turned to her, kissed her and then
pushed her gently to her knees.  "You'll have to work fast, my
love."

Michele looked down at my growing thickness.  "I guess I will,
sir."

Then she smiled slyly at me.  "Do you really want my help that
badly?"

"Sweetie," I said, gripping myself and masturbating my erection
inches from her face, "I need this if I'm going to make it through
the rest of the evening.  Please."

"Say no more, my horny man," she said.  "Your wish is always my
command."

And with that she knelt down and swallowed me and if I thought I was
already hard I was wrong because she made me harder, and harder still,
the bulbous head banging gently around the back of her throat and her
tongue flicking the hard flesh shaft.  It didn't take me long to cum
and when I came, I came hard and into her mouth and she swallowed all
of it.

"All better?" she asked as she kissed the tip of my phallus and
made me wince with hypersensitive pleasure.

"Oh yeah," I said, leaning back on the bench, totally spent.
"Baby, I owe you one."

"I'll collect later," she said.

"Please do."

We heard a rustle and the sound of bare feet padding on the smooth
round stones that comprised the path.

"Shit!" said Michele!  "We didn't bring any towels."

Even under the great oak there was enough moonlight to leave us
exposed.  Then Connie rounded the corner and spotted us.

I made to rise.

"No, don't bother." She said as she came up and handed us our
drinks.  "Stay.  It's not like I didn't see other things earlier
tonight."

"Connie," I said, moving to the edge of the bench.  For a moment, I
thought to use one hand to hide my dangling still semi-thick and long
member and balls, but then found it absurd to do so.  As Connie said,
she'd already seen everything.  What was there to hide?  "Thanks
for being so easygoing about our lifestyle but the last thing we want
to do - the very last thing - after all you've been through, is
to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Believe me, Tony, if I felt uncomfortable, I would've excused
myself earlier and stayed inside.  You were obviously naked in the pool
and I came back out, didn't I?"

She sipped her beer.

"How're the kids?" asked Michele after taking a drink from her
wine cooler.

"Sleeping like babies," said Connie.

"Well," I took a long drink of my beer and stood up, conscious that
I was standing stark naked and about four feet from my sister-in-law.
The moonlight illuminated my phallus dangling against my thigh and
looking slick from Michele's wonderful blowjob.  I noted that Connie
was casting furtive looks at it.  "We might not need towels for
covering up, but I still need to get up."

"Why?" Connie asked.

"Because of this," I said, taking another long pull from my can of
beer.  "And because it's been a while since I peed.  I'll just
run inside and-"

"Oh, so now you're a puritan?" Michele asked.  She turned to her
sister.  "He usually just pees out here."

"Then go for it," said Connie.

"Being naked is one thing," I said, "but I think that peeing in
front of you would be too weird."

"Why?" asked Connie.  "You don't think I pee?"

That broke us all up.

"Okay, okay," I said, and padded deeper into the lawn.

"Just don't pee in the pond," said Michele.

"Like I would do that," I protested.

"Poor fishies!" said Connie and giggled.

I grabbed my penis and held it for a few seconds, quite aware that it
was thick, semi-long and on full display.  Finally, I let fly with an
arcing stream.

"Don't forget to water the plants," said Michele.

"Fine with me," I said, moving my phallus until the spray hit the
flowerbed beside me.  I swept my spray back and forth.

"Actually, the acidity is going to kill them!" said Connie.  "But
don't let that stop you, Tony.  That's the best looking garden hose
I've ever seen."

"Connie, you're as naughty as Tony usually is," Michele said and
shoved her shoulder against her sister's as they sat side by side on
the bench.

Afterward, I went back to the bench and purposely turned around so that
my ass was inches away from both of their faces, then said, "Scoot"
and wedged myself between my wife and her sister.  Believe it or not,
we talked for a good half hour about anything but sex - which is not
to say that the atmosphere wasn't charged with sexuality.  Several
times, I caught both Michele and Connie casting furtive glances at my
penis.  Because I was well aware that I was on display, my phallus
never went down completely.  In fact, it remained rather elongated and
puffy, though by no means fully erect, for the duration of our talk.
Finally, I got up, stretched, my ass again on full display, turned
around and took Michele's hand.

"Bedtime?" she asked.

I nodded.

We said our goodnights to Connie.  She rose and hugged and kissed
Michele and thanked us again for our ongoing hospitality.  I told her
not to be silly, that she and the kids were family and could hang with
us forever if they wanted to.  Then she moved close, stretched up and
hugged and kissed me quickly on the lips.  For about two seconds my
penis was pressed against her bare tummy.

Then we were off and walking down the path, leaving Connie sitting on
the bench in the grotto, with a clear view of my naked form.

We stepped through the patio door and into the den and made our way to
the main staircase.   I followed Michele in order to enjoy the view
from a couple of steps below.  And what a view.  My eyes were glued to
her asscheeks playing peek-a-boo beneath her T-shirt.
I reached up and squeezed one of them and made her squeal.

"Shhhh!" I hissed.  "You're going to wake the kids!"

"Uh-oh," she said.  "How would we explain their naked Uncle
Tony?"

"Easy," I said.  "I was sleepwalking and you found me outside
wearing my birthday suit."

She smiled and nodded.  "Okay.  That might work.  But since we're
almost to our bedroom, I think you're going to get away with a naked
house romp tonight.  And I think I'll take that payback for my
blowjob now, Mr. Naked Man."

"Fine with me."

We went to the bedroom and Michele cashed in.


Chapter 10

Michele relayed some very interesting news to me when she got home from
school the following afternoon.

"Remember last night when Connie said the first part of her evening
went so-so but the second part went better?  Or something like that?"

"Yeah.  We never got to the better part, did we?"

"Not last night, but she told me about it this morning."

"What's up?"

"Maybe plenty."

"Spill it, sexy."

Michele did.  Connie's lawyer was swamped all day, so he discussed
her case over lunch at a downtown restaurant.  A friend of his -
another lawyer - stopped by the table and eventually joined the pair.
 Connie said she and Ted, the other lawyer, hit it off.  "To the
extent that he asked for her phone number!" Michele finished.

"Did she give it to him?"

Michele nodded.  "Tony, this is such great news.  Maybe my big sister
is finally coming out of her shell and recognizing that things aren't
always going to be gloom and doom for her."

"Maybe so.  I sure hope this Ted calls."

"I do too, if only to boost Connie's ego."

Ted did call and Connie said yes when he asked for a date.  That first
date became two and three and then many more.  He was completely taken
with her, Connie explained, and she with him.  Michele and I worried
that she was overreacting because of her long dry spell, but she put
our fears to rest.  "He likes the kids, you know."

"How did your dinner and a movie afternoon go with everyone?" asked
Michele.

"Terrific.  Ted accepts them and wants to include them on more of our
outings.  You've met him at the barbeque you threw for all of us the
other weekend.  What do you think?"

"Hey, we think he seems to be something special," said Michele.
"We just want you to be absolutely sure."

"And go slowly," I said.  "At least a little more slowly, anyway.
 We'll have Ted over for a few more barbeques and continue to scope
him out for you."  I winked at Connie and she smiled.

Unfortunately, my sister-in-law's legal woes continued and her
divorce continued forward, but at a snail's pace.  Michele and I
really didn't mind her and the kids living with us, but we felt for
her because she was so frustrated with her situation.

Five months after her first date with Ted, Connie agreed to marry him.
We were all stunned with the news but wished them all the best.  Ted
pulled a few legal strings to nudge Connie's divorce along.  In the
meantime, she and the kids anxiously awaited the big transfer, from our
house to Ted's.  (He had a large borderline mansion near Padre
Island.)

"He doesn't want me to work," Connie explained one afternoon.
"I'll have my hands full being a happy homemaker to my new man and
my children for a few years.  But if I start to go stir crazy, I'll
insist on getting a job."

"You can always fall back on your physical therapy," Michele
pointed out to her.  "Or put to use that secretarial training you
took early on."

"I'd actually save Ted money doing that," said Connie, "if I go
to work for his law firm."

It was hard to believe, but Connie's time with us passed the
ten-month mark - and then her divorce was finalized and she was ready
to leave.  She and the children would move in with Ted and a wedding
would follow a few months later.

One particular afternoon with Connie (about a week and a half before
she and her kids moved out) stands out warmly for me.  It was the day
when I got to know my sister-in-law better than I ever had before.

I was in my third-floor office-study and had just wrapped up working on
my job files and had just pulled up one of my favorite porn Internet
sites (a non-nude cutie page) when I thought I heard a timid knock on
my door.  I frowned because I thought I was the only one home.  Michele
and the kids had gone to the mall earlier and Connie was having lunch
with Ted.  Had I really heard anything?  I decided to check.

I padded to the door and, just in case, I wasn't mistaken, cracked it
slowly and stood behind it.  (Since I was in my private chamber I was
wearing my usual favorite garb - namely, nothing whatsoever.)

"Connie!"

She stood there, looking a little sheepish.  "I know the Big Rule:
Don't Disturb Tony in His Study.   Sorry, but I just had to, for just
a minute."

"No problem, but maybe I should grab my shorts before letting you
in."

She smiled.  "Are you naked?"

I nodded.

She nudged the door further open and let herself in.  "Then don't
bother to dress on my account."

So there I stood nude beside Connie, who was dressed in a small tight
yellow halter and white shorts and little else, apparently, but her
outfit was definitely more than mine.

"Are you sure you don't want me to put something on?" I asked.

She swatted my arm playfully.  "And cover up this fine hunk of
beefcake?  No way!"

"I'm not exactly beefcake."

"Well," she said, "you're pretty close, all toned and tanned.
Besides, after that night when we all sat around in your grotto area,
it's not like I haven't seen you baring everything before,
right?"

"True.  Come sit then," I said, thrilled by the sudden turn of the
afternoon.  Here I had been getting ready to indulge in a long and
leisurely masturbation and porn acquisition session and Michele's
gorgeous sister turned events even more interesting.  As we walked to
the sofa and recliner in one section of the study, I cast a quick down
and noticed my member was still thick and semi-elongated from the
beginning lazy strokes I'd given it seconds before Connie's knock.

We sat down, Connie on the recliner and I on the couch.

"Okay, now tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Tony, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely.  It's just that we never really have any time alone,
you and me, and I wanted to see you by yourself."

"Well, you're seeing me, all right."

We laughed.

"Okay, Tony.  I just wanted to thank you, again, for taking us in
when you did.  Our life has been one series of changes lately, not all
of them good, but the time we spent with you and Michele has definitely
been golden, even in the midst of dealing with the shitty wreck of my
past years with Bob."

I stood up and walked to the recliner and grabbed her hands and hoisted
her up.  We shared a long hug and a brief kiss.  "Connie, I've said
it before and I'll say it again.  It was absolutely no bother to have
you and the kids here.  In fact, we love your presence in this house,
Michele and I.  We really do.  And you're welcome back anytime."

She hugged me close again.  She was very short and she was standing on
her pretty pink toes to reach me.  Once again, I felt the top of my
thick phallus pressed snuggly and warmly against her stomach and the
bottom pressed against my right thigh.  I know she felt it too but she
didn't seem in a hurry to move away.

"Thank you for feeling that way," she said softly.  "My sister
has a great hubby."

"Oh, I don't know about that," I said, moving back to the couch.

"Don't even," she said.  "You are.  You're smart, you've
made tons of money and you have a great healthy attitude toward
sexuality."

"If you only knew about my kinky side," I said, stretching one leg
up on the couch, which further exposed all my equipment to her.

"Oh, I think kinky is totally healthy," she said, "as long as
it's not hurting somebody else."
"I'm not into pain, believe me."

"Well, truthfully, Tony, I don't even see anything wrong with that
- pain, I mean.  You know, S&M games and such.  As long as both
parties agree to it."

I nodded agreement.  "But I'm still not into it, aside from
slapping my babe's buns as I ram into her from behind."

She smiled and blushed.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't," she said, "you tease you.  So what do you
consider kinky?"

"I don't know," I lied.

"Of course you do."

"Well," I said, "how about anal sex, for starters?"

"Yummy!  But only if my partner loosens up my pretty pink hole with a
lot of tongue TLC first."

"I understand."

"What else?"

"Um, I like playing with women's feet sometimes."

"Really?"

I nodded.

She put her bare feet up on the coffee table between us and arched her
toes at me.  "You think mine are nice?"

"They're more than nice," I said, feeling a throb in my penis.
"I could go to town on those, believe me!"

We both laughed, then I asked her what she considered kinky.

"Oh, tons of things.  I like to sit on a man's face and grind
myself to orgasm on his tongue and use his nose on my clit."

"That's not kinky, that's lucky on the part of whatever guy
happens to be your head-chair for the session."

More laughter, then she continued.  "I like it when a guy licks my
asshole.  Actually, I love it, especially when he makes his tongue hard
like a penis and sticks it in my little hole and makes it round and
dilated."

"Cool."

She nodded.  "It's heaven.  And I like to do it back."

"To guys?"

"Yeah.  In the middle of a blowjob.  I love to surprise them.  I like
to lick their cocks and balls, then I like my tongue to go lower and
lower.  I love the look of shock on their faces when I gaze up and they
see me going still lower.  Then I love to lick their asses out.  After
they get over the shock, they can't wait to make that a part of our
regular lovemaking.  I've seen my share of men squatting over me,
their pretty buttholes dying to be rimmed.  Not all of them like it.
Some actually don't like me anymore, period, after I pull that stunt.
 But most do."

"One more kinky revelation, please."

She smiled and gave me a sly sideways glance.  "I love threesomes."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah.  It's been a long time since I was involved in one, but I
love giving a guy a blowjob as I'm bouncing on another guy's hard
cock.  Love it!  And I love having my tits sucked on hard as another
guy eats me down here."  She let her fingers slide slowly across the
crotch of her shorts.

"Have you ever done a double-penetration?"

"Nope, but not for lack of trying.  Bad partners, I guess.  But
threesomes are great."

"Okay," I said, giving my phallus a very obvious stroke that made
it throb a little larger.  "You really are kinky, Connie."

"Mmm-hmm," she said.  "Your turn now.  What else?"

"Well, I like non-nude sites that showcase nubile teen cuties
basically clothed but ripe and growing."

"What's wrong with that?" said Connie.  "You're just being a
healthy male."

"I don't think a lot of people would feel that way."

She frowned, then turned and looked at the large computer monitor on my
desk.  "Show me what you mean, would you?"

"Sure," I said.

We walked over to the terminal and moved my mouse to bring my 'puter
out of sleep mode and did a few quick clicks to get to some hidden
folders.  Then I brought up a few shots of teen girls in T-shirts and
underwear and swimwear.   I was very conscious of my rod initially
resting on my right thigh, then growing larger and throbbing until it
was dangling thickly between my legs.  Connie stood beside my chair and
placed a hand on my right shoulder as I scrolled through shot after
shot.

"Blondes, brunettes, redheads.  They're beautiful, all of them,"
she said.  "What are they?  Fifteen through nineteen?"

"Well, I think most are in their mid to late teens, I guess, but
there are definitely some that are just a little younger, right?"

"For sure."

"Now you'll really think I'm weird."

"Of course not, silly.  I still wouldn't call you a pervert unless
you ran out and took advantage of one of the younger babes, and I know
you too well to believe you'd ever do that."

"You know I wouldn't," I said.  "Looking - appreciating the
beauty of the human body at its youthful stage - is one thing.
Acting out is quite another."

"Absolutely.  It's like all those folks who have a beef with a lot
of the text erotica available on the Internet."

"Do you read it?"

Connie nodded and smiled as her cheeks colored.  She reminded me of my
shy Michele at that moment.  "I spend waaaaaaay too much time reading
sex stories, I'll admit."  The impish smile and shrug she sported
combined with her flushed tones to make her look incredibly cute.

"Anyway, about all those way out there stories.  You know which ones
I mean.  I say, read or look at whatever gets you off - literally -
as long as it's not hurting anyone and nobody was coerced, forced and
hurt into doing whatever the photos or stories depict.  Am I making any
sense?"

"A lot of it, actually."

"Good, so getting back to that young honey on your screen who's
sort of wearing that bright yellow half-T-shirt and the cutest magenta
g-string I've seen today, well, you'd have to be cock-dead not to
be turned on by that hottie.  So don't worry, Tony.  You're
fine."
She gave my shoulder a final squeeze and then we went back to our
positions on the couch and loveseat across the room.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what other stuff turns you on?  I mean, really, really turn
you on?"

"Well," I said slowly, "this for instance."

I held my hands to my sides.  "Here I am having a fairly normal
conversation with you, but you're clothed and I'm totally naked.
While I love being nude for comfort purposes, I'll admit there's a
certain degree of eroticism that comes with knowing that I'm on
complete display in front of you."

"I can understand that!"  She sat forward and cupped her hands
under her chin.  "I feel the exact same way about being naked."

"You can, really?"

"Sure.  You heard Michele talk about when we were young girls.  Ever
since then, I've loved to spend a lot of time without a stitch of
clothing on for a lot of reasons.  I guess the main reason is because
as much as I like all kinds of fashions, I also love the feeling of
being totally nude for long periods of time.  But at the same time,
knowing that others were around - it didn't matter who they were;
my sister, her friends, my boyfriends, whatever - and knowing that
they were probably very aware of my nudity, especially when I went
about my daily business and gave them totally unobstructed views of my
body in all kinds of positions as I cleaned, cooked, worked on the
computer or whatever, well, those kinds of situations always put me in
a low-grade state of sexual arousal.  Does that happen to you?"

Boldly, I reached down and cupped my semi-thick member and balls and
aimed them at her.  "Does this answer your question?"

She laughed.  "Oh, Tony, I can tell you've been that large every
time I see you, even when you're wearing your shorts."

"Right.  Which means I'm usually a little turned on, or have been,
a lot of times that you've been around me.  I'm a little smaller
when I'm soft, but obviously, there's a certain girth to my pole
right now that comes with knowing that you can, at any time you're
near me, check it out, along with my balls."

"Like this?"  Connie purposely darted her eyes down and focused
them on my equipment for several long seconds.  Then she looked up,
licked her upper lip, smiled and winked at me.

"Exactly," I said.

We shared a laugh.

"And I liked what you said about not caring who sees you, whether
it's an acquaintance, a friend or even a family member," I said.
"That doesn't make you a total freak.  It's just a way to be
comfortable and get a sexual high at the same time."

"Exactly," she said, stretching on the recliner.  "It's sort of
like what we were saying about those photos you like to download off
the Net and all the stories I love to read.  It's just a form of
engaging our libido and driving it to higher levels.  I remember
spending a day or two without a stitch on, even after I got married and
had kids.  My kids would be around me and I didn't care.  I just went
about my business.  Did that mean I was thinking weird thoughts about
Tommy and Lisa?  Certainly not.  But I was conscious of their eyes on
me a little more than usual - no biggie."

She smiled.  "How long have you managed to stay naked?"

"That's a good question.  I guess about five days a few times, when
I didn't have to go anywhere and just stayed around the house.
You?"

"I think the longest was about a week, maybe eight days."

"You're kidding!"

She raised her legs and hugged her knees and wiggled her toes at me.
"Nope.  Serious."
"Oh, I'm hearing a challenge."

She laughed.  "You think you can top my record?"

"I may have to try sometime," I said.  "Hey, maybe you'll soon
be topping your own old record, in your own new house."

"I'll have to see how Ted feels about it," she said.  "He's a
wonderful lover but just a bit straight laced."

"I'm sure you can, um, influence him."

She smiled.  "Maybe."

"At the risk of opening up a sore subject, what did Bob think of your
nudity?"

"At first he was cool with it."  She shrugged. "In fact, when we
first got married, he would be naked at home sometimes.  Then even
before we had kids he started to get increasingly uptight.  When the
kids were born, he kept saying that my being naked around them was
going to corrupt them."

"Did you listen to him?"

"Not initially.  I still stayed naked as much as I could.  But Bob
kept saying I was a bad mother and a bad influence and blah, blah,
blah.  You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think that anyone who sees nudity in front of others like that as
bad is projecting their own weird thoughts and desires into a
situation."

"You don't think Bob was a child molester, do you?"

"No, not that.  Not a real one anyway.  But I wonder if he thought
that if we were all naked at home he would be inclined to get weird
thoughts about his own kids or something."

"It's a possibility," I admitted.  "Whereas you saw it as
innocent exposure, designed to give you comfort and a little of that
exhibitionist arousal we were discussing."

"Right . Oh, I'm note saying I believed Bob and I would be perfect
angels if we had remained nude around the house.  I mean, that's part
of the fun, right?  Seeing a guy with his big dick flopping around all
day would certainly turn me on, just as I hope that seeing me bent over
and flashing him my too big ass or-"

"It's not too big."

"Bless you for saying that, Tony, but I know it is.  Anyway, big or
not, I would hope that seeing my butt and tits and shaved pussy on
display all day long would turn my partner on.  That's part of the
pleasure to be derived with nudity at home, if you ask me.  I mean, if
you and I were husband and wife and had kids around the house-"

"We'd probably never wear clothes, kids or no kids."

"True, but when we got each other all hot and bothered-"

"We wouldn't just start banging each other right in front of our
young audience."

"Precisely!"  She sighed.  "Oh Tony, I hope my sister knows just
what a gem she has in a husband.  And a yummy looking one too."  She
smiled at me.  "And one who understands my way of thinking about
nudity so well.  Of course we wouldn't put on a show for young eyes.
We'd take our balling into the bedroom.  I mean, maybe after a little
caressing and a little strokie here and a little tug or two there,"
she winked, "and then we could excuse ourselves for a little while
and I could lead you to the other room."

"Leading me away by the hand, of course," I said, chuckling.

"Or your hard pole," she said.  That got us laughing harder.

"I think you've just described a scenario that would occur quite a
bit if we were married."

"You better believe it, baby!"

Connie's cell phone rang at that moment.  She unclipped it off her
shorts pocket, answered and raised her eyebrows at me.  "Ted," I
saw her mouth pantomime to me.

After another moment, she nodded and then held up one finger to me.
"I'll get them and call you back."

She hung up and said, "Ted needs some information on a few documents
I have in my room.  Can I come back up when I finish with him?"

"Of course.  I'll be waiting."

And probably getting off, I thought as I watched her sexy ass
undulating in her tight white shorts as she sashayed out the study
door.

I returned to the website I had up and downloaded a few pictures.  Then
I hit on a particularly enticing little blondie and felt my phallus
stir, rise off my thigh again, grow thicker and longer and begin to
throb without my laying a finger on it.  There were several shots of
the cutie and I downloaded them all, then moved on to a gorgeous little
brunette morsel and I hit paydirt with her because there were scads of
pictures.  Rather than wrestle with which to download, I decided to
snag the entire series, then found another with her.

"Wow!  She looks like me when I lost my virginity," I heard behind
me.

Connie was back and dressed in even less than when she had left.  She
sported a yellow bikini that made her dark tan look glow rusty red.

"Wowza!  Is that new?"

"Came in the mail yesterday.  It's a Wicked Weasel.  Michele highly
recommended them and let me try on some of hers, so I ordered several
recently."

"Turn around."

She did, hands on hips and spread legs.  Her buttocks were already
partially bronzed by the sun, but even her last thong hadn't been
this daring.

"Is there really anything at all to the back?" I asked.

"Just a tiny yellow string."

I peered closer.  "Where?"

She laughed.  "Now I'll get rid of all my stripes."

"The only way to do that is to lay out in the buff."

"You're right.  I may start doing that."

I moved away to the computer and we went back to the couch.  "Were
you really as young as the girlie on the screen when you lost your
cherry?"

"Well, I was fifteen and a half."

I whistled.  "Younger than Michele when she lost hers, that's for
sue."

"Oh yeah.  I was young, horny and in lust with the male of the
species, period.  I was a bad girl.  I got indoctrinated early."

"Maybe that explains your kinky streak."

"Maybe so."  She smiled.  "The older I get, the more I need to
push envelopes to get that totally crazy lusty feeling."

"I read you.  And thanks for sharing all your kinky past with me."

"Well, there's more."

I arched an eyebrow.  "Really?"

"See the color of this bikini?  I love yellow for a reason."

"Are you serious?  Are you saying that-"

"Yup.  Remember that night a while back, when you took a pee out on
the lawn?  It was all I could do to keep things light and not ask you
to aim that fat water hose my way."

"Are you serious?"

"Totally.  That night turned me on as much as your casual nudity.  Do
you know what time I finally drifted off to sleep?"

I shook my head.

"Sometime in the wee hours just before daylight.  It was already
getting bright in my room."

"I won't ask what you did all night," I said, chuckling.

"You know damned well what I did.  I lost track of how many cums I
gave myself."

"How did you get into golden showers?"

"I used to have a great boyfriend who was into shit like that."

"Oh, wow.  Did I just hear the defecation word?"

"Well, not shit.  Not really.  I mean, I haven't gotten off on THAT
-- yet!"  We laughed.  "But I used to love being his fountain when
he peed and gurgling with it as it streamed out of his dick.  And
there's something else I love.  I call them yellow rinses."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You bet.  I love it when I kneel down and a guy pees all over my
head and I can watch it stream down my eyes and my face.  You should
see my hand going below me as I bring myself off when he's doing it.
Oooo, baby, do I love it!"

Then from far below came the distant sound of the garage door opening.

"Naughty talk over for now," Connie said, pouting.  "Time for a
swim."

"Yeah, look at this," I said, grabbing myself.  "A little while
longer and I would have been at the obscene stage."

"No, the perfect stage, silly.  So are you going to take care of
things yourself or have my lucky sister do you?"

"Maybe I'll just cool down until tonight and do it with a swim."

"Great!  Come with me, and don't bother to dress if you don't
want."

"Just walk out like this?"

We heard the kitchen door opening below.

"Sure.  Like I said, what's wrong with a little skin?  Besides, the
kids have seen naked bodies before," she glanced down and smiled,
"though nobody as endowed as you."

"I think I probably should wear something," I said, "since I
really don't want to throw off the dynamics of what we've
established so far and you'll be gone in another week or so."

"Whatever," Connie shrugged, then she listened for a few seconds,
turned to me and spoke softly. "Thanks again for your hospitality,
your sexy talk and the lovely skin show."

And before I knew it, she had moved in close and given me another
open-mouthed kiss and I felt her tongue darting into my mouth before
she moved away, smiling.  "Too bad everybody's home now.  I
didn't get to tell you about my strap-on addiction."

"Your strap-"

She laughed and darted out of the room as voices trailed up the stairs
beyond.


Chapter 11

The fourth day after that pleasant afternoon with my sister-in-law
began like many others, with Connie and the kids, Michele and I
breakfasting together.  Then things took a decidedly different turn.

Because of the long delay in getting the divorce finalized, Connie had
finally enrolled the kids in school about three months into her stay
with us.  She used our place as a temporary address and enrolled them
in a nearby school district.  It wasn't the one Michele worked for
but she dropped the kids off on the way into her own school.

As soon as Michele and the kids were out the door that particular
morning, Connie received a phone call from Ted.  She listened for
several long minutes, then came back into the kitchen.  One look at her
face and I knew she was hopping mad.

"That fucking bastard!"

"Who?  Ted?"

"Bob!"

"But I thought he signed the divorce papers and everything's
finalized."

"It is.  That's just it!  It is and yet, this morning, Ted's
associate in San Antonio dug up a hidden bank account of Bob's."

"Is it a large one?"

"Large enough!"  She slumped onto the table and cradled her head in
her hands.  "19 thousand bucks!"

I whistled.  "Okay, it's not a fortune, but it's not two or three
grand, either."

"Exactly."

"So, is Ted going to sue him for the money, on your behalf?"

"My noble hubby-to-be says it isn't worth it - that between
establishing a case, digging into the history, taking the whole thing
through the legal ropes, and spending all his time mounting the case,
it would eat up at least the nine and a half thousand we'd get."

"So, sue him for court and legal costs on top of everything else."

"Ted still thinks we'll come out breaking even, but no more."

I was silent for a long time, then I spoke softly.  "Connie, I have a
hell of a wedding gift for you."

She sighed.  "Tony, I love you to pieces and sometimes - don't
tell Michele - I wish I'd found you first because I think you and I
are super compatible in certain areas, but you've been more than kind
enough to me, both you and my sister, so don't go talking about
gifts."

"Ah, but it's going to give me great pleasure in bestowing this one
upon you, trust me.  I mean, this is going to blow you sky high, if
Michele agrees that I should proceed."

Michele did, which is why Connie and I were bound for San Antonio the
next afternoon.

Connie pestered me all the way about disclosing the big secret but I
refused.  "You'll learn all about it when the time is right," I
said, and no more.

I checked us into the Marriott overlooking the River Walk.  It was a
gorgeous but sweltering afternoon, so we waited until sundown to head
down and ate at a great Mexican restaurant overlooking the canal and
the tourists sailing by on the riverboats.

"Nice of Michele to let us stay in the same room together," she
said over margaritas (frozen for her, on the rocks for me).

"She trusts us both," I said.  "She even said not to bother to
dress in the hotel room, since you've seen me naked so often."

"That's so sweet of her!" said Michele.  "And believe it or
not, she told me the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  She said she knew that I preferred being naked at home and I
shouldn't change my ways for anyone."

"We'll see what Ted and the future hold for you."

She nodded and sipped at her drink.

"Besides, if we get too hot and bothered we can always take care of
ourselves," she said softly.

I smiled.

"Michele says whenever you guys take trips you always bring porn on
your computer."
"It's true.  Have porn, will travel is my motto."

"You're such a pervert!"

"Guilty as charged."

"Which is yet another reason why I love you so much, besides the fact
that you're my brother-in-law and so good to my baby sister."

"I even downloaded some special stuff for you, in case you're
interested."

Connie's eyes widened.  "Really?"

I nodded.

"Like what?"

"You'll see.  Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"If you want to."

"Oh, I do, believe me!"

"Good, but first dinner and business."

"Business?"

"Yes, and here he comes."

A young black man walked up to the table.  He was tall and slender, but
you could tell by his solid and trim appearance that he spent his share
of time in the gym on a regular basis.  I didn't need the visuals to
know that, since he'd always taken a couple of hours to go workout
when he worked at one of the offices I supplied with software and
hardware, before I went solo.

He shook my hand and then we hugged briefly.

"Connie, this is Jay," I said.  He smiled down at Connie and shook
her hand.  "Join us, my friend."

"Thanks," he said.  I motioned for the waiter and Jay ordered a
bourbon and coke.

"Is this is the lady I'm going to help?" Jay asked.

"It is indeed," I said.

"You guys," said Connie, a little exasperated.  "Who says I need
help?"

"Well, not help," I said.  "Let's call it revenge."

Jay's drink came.  "To a successful venture," I said.

We clinked glasses, Jay chuckling softly and Connie looking more
perplexed than ever.

"Connie, the less you know about the intricacies, the better," I
said, glancing around.  I was grateful the restaurant was filling up
and the growing chatter was blending in with the rest of the noisy
restaurant.  Nevertheless, I wanted to be sure, so I lowered my voice
even further.  "About that bank account that you told me about -
the one that Bob kept from you . . ."

"Yeah?"

"How would you like for him not to have it anymore?"

"Well, like I said, Ted - that's my lawyer and boyfriend," she
explained to Jay, who nodded.  "Well, he doesn't think it's worth
the time to sue him for it."

"Lower your voice," I said.  "I didn't ask if you wanted to sue
for the money.  I asked if you want Bob not to have it."

"You guys aren't-"

"I didn't say anything about stealing either, did I?"

"Tony, you're talking funny.  What are you saying?"

"Well, how about this.  How would you like Bob to donate it?"

She didn't say anything for several long seconds.  Almost as if on
cue, mariachi music kicked up with a festive song.  Connie smiled
widely.  "What a fantastic idea, gentlemen!"

"Who's the lucky recipient?" asked Jay.  "That's all I need
to know."

I raised my eyebrows at Connie.

She sat quietly for sometime, then spoke softly.  "How about the San
Antonio Battered Women's Shelter?"

I laughed.  "What a wonderful suggestion."

"All of it?"

"Yes," she said, then.

"They'll have a very substantial donation in their account by
tomorrow morning," said Jay.  "Who should I say made the gift?"

"Oh, we're doing nothing wrong or illegal," I said, finishing my
drink and ordering another round for all of us.  "By all means, make
sure Bob gets the credit."  I gave Jay his last name.
"And if he goes after the shelter?" asked Connie.

"He won't dare," I said.  "If he starts raising a stink,
he'll have to go through legal channels to get his money back."

"And if he goes through legal channels, then the fact that he hid
this account from you becomes very public information, right about the
time your divorce is being finalized.  I know your lawyer didn't want
to file a separate lawsuit to secure your half of those funds, Connie,
but your divorce lawyer might love it if you brought him evidence that
Bob was suing a woman's shelter to secure funds for an account he
kept from you in the first place."
Jay simply nodded and smiled.

Connie looked from me to Jay and back again, then her eyes flooded over
with tears.

"Hey, hey!  What's this?  You're supposed to be happy, girl."

"I am," she said brokenly.  "It's just that you guys are way
too nice.  How-"

"Ah-ah," I said.  "Remember, no questions about how."

"Right," said Jay.  "Just remember that your bro-in-law here
knows so much about info-tech that it's spooky.  Combined with my
smarts in the same subject and the many passcode privileges I've
amassed or can hack into and - well, let's just say that your
scumbag hubby's just hours away from making a very generous donation.
 I promise."

The fresh drinks arrived and we toasted again.

To friendships.  And donating money to good causes.


Chapter 12

Back at the hotel, I called Michele on my cell phone while Connie
talked with Ted on hers.
When I hung up, I found her sitting and smiling at me across the bed.
"Everything okay?"

"Absolutely." I nodded.  "On your end?"

"Fine.  I told Ted that everything went smoothly without being more
specific."

"Same here.  Remember, the less said about all this, the better."

"Something still puzzles me," she said.

I raid my eyebrows.

"We're still leaving a trail."

"What do you mean?"

"Only that if anything comes of this, evidence will show that we were
in San Antonio when - well, when whatever happens happens."

"Why do you think so?"

"Because you checked us into the hotel."

"As Mister and Mrs. Cornelius McDowall from Malibu?"

"Mister and Mrs.-"  Connie burst out laughing.  "Really?"

I nodded.

"For real?"  I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my wallet
and a credit card and a driver's license and tossed them to her.
"Pretty slick, eh?"

"Cornelius McDowall!  But how in the world did you-"

"Nope," I said. "Need to know only, etc."

She came over and embraced me.  "Whatever you say.  And thank you so
much again."

"Believe me, the pleasure was as much mine as yours.  I wish I could
see the prick's face when he realizes he's been snowed."

"Same here."

I stretched.  "Well, time for a shower."

"Me after you."

"Go first, then," I said.

"No, you."

"I insist," I said.  "It'll give me time to unpack my computer
and do some surfing."

"Oooh, I hope I don't miss anything."  Connie gave me a
half-smile, half leer and began to strip.  "In the room or on the
screen."

"You hot wench," I said.

"You better believe it!"

A quarter hour later, she came out of the bathroom as I was downloading
a few shots of gorgeous non-nude girls posing in all sorts of poses,
from goofy to seductive.

"There's only one thing wrong with em," said Connie behind me.

"What?" I said as I swiveled the chair around.

"They're not naked," said Connie, who was naked.  Totally.  Not
even a pinky ring on her fingers or a toe ring below.

"I hope you don't mind," she said.

"Oh, yeah, I totally mind seeing a gorgeous woman on complete
display."

"I'm too fat to be gorgeous."

"You're insane.  Turn around."

"Why?  So you can see my fat ass?"

"Sure, if you want to call it that.  But if it's a fat ass, it's
a luscious fat ass."

She smiled, turned around, bent over the bed and crossed her legs.  The
effect was stunning.  "My god, it's a bubble butt that deserves to
be worshipped!"

I raced over, knelt in front of her ample buttocks and squeezed them
and then kissed each globe.

"Okay, so I guess some guys really like them round and plump."

"Absolutely," I said.  "Hell, if I weren't married, I would
show you just how much I love them like yours.  That would include
doing this," I spread her cheeks, "and planting a kiss on your
gorgeous rosebud, which, by the way, is every bit as beautiful as I
knew it would be."

Connie turned around, her face all smiles and kissed my cheek.
"Thanks, Tony.  You make me feel good about myself."  She sat on
the corner of the bed, her legs spread on either side of the mattress
corner.  Sitting that way, her bald pussy looked quite engorged and I
noticed her puffy outer lips split apart and reveal her inner charms.

"You have a right to feel good," I said.  "You're absolutely
beautiful.  And speaking of beauty, that's a fantastic wax job on
your pussy."

She looked down, rubbed it casually and pulled the thick outer lips
further apart.  "You can tell?"

"Of course.  That's the only way you could've gotten it that
smooth.  And I see you've been visiting a tanning booth, since your
tan is definitely the all-over sort, even though I haven't seen you
tanning naked at our house."

"You're right."  She stood and walked over to the laptop.  "Do
you mind if I play on it while you shower?"

"Go for it," I said.  Then I moved over to my bed and tossing my
clothes on it.

I got in the shower and soaped up, fully aware that my gorgeous nude
sister-in-law was in the other room.  I had absolutely no intention of
cheating on my wife.  I loved Michele too much to stray.  On the other
hand, Michele knew very well that I preferred to go nude and she knew
that her sister was not only tolerant of nudity but preferred to be
nude whenever possible.  In recent months, she had told me that it was
perfectly all right with her if I wanted to go around the house naked,
as I had before we had our long-term visitors.  I asked her if she was
sure.  Michele had assured me she was indeed fine with it.  "I've
even talked it over with Connie," she explained.  "I know she's
visited with you upstairs while you've been naked.  Heck, you could
even masturbate in front of her, for all I care."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, silly man.  I'm not jealous of my own husband and
sister.  I know you're totally oversexed and it would probably give
you a major exhibitionist thrill to do yourself in front of her."

"How do you think Connie would feel about it?"

"Knowing my equally oversexed sister, she would probably love it."
Then Michele poked my chest with one rigid forefinger.  "But pumping
yourself is as far as it goes, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am.  If that even happens."

"Right.  If.  As far as going naked around the house, she sees no
reason why you  shouldn't."

"What about the kids?"

She shrugged.  "She thinks it would be good to reacquaint them with
casual home nudity.

She used to go naked around the house until Bob got weird, remember her
telling us?"

I nodded.

"Well, Connie honestly doesn't see anything wrong with such an
environment.  She thinks it's actually healthy, especially if kids
experience it from both a male and female perspective."

"Your sister is definitely a free spirit," I said.  "But then, so
are you."

Michele laughed and kissed me.  "Not as much as you two, but I'm
getting there."

As I lathered my balls and phallus, I felt myself thicken and harden up
as I remembered the delicious blowjob that followed my conversation
with Michele.

I dried off and still semi-thick, walked out of the bathroom completely
nude and just in time to see a beautiful sight:  Connie, stark naked in
the high-backed leather swivel chair, legs spread and placed high on
the table, on either side of the laptop, ramming most of the fingers of
her left hand deep into her cunt as her fingers pinched her nipples
aggressively.  All of a sudden, she arched her back and sent the chair
reclining as she rode a powerful climax that left her twitching and
whimpering.

"Gorgeous," I said.

She looked over at me.  Her eyes were half-lidded and mostly obscured
by hair bangs in disarray.  She looked drunk.  I guess, in a manner of
speaking, she was.  "You think?"  She sucked on the fingers she
pulled out of herself.

"I know," I said, feeling my phallus rising again.  I pointed down
to it as it throbbed her way.  "And he knows."

"Oooooh," she moaned and swung the chair around, planting her
pretty bare feet on the rug, leaving her legs spread and her glistening
shaved pussy gaping at me.
I sat on the bed and stared at Connie's amazing voluptuous body.  She
wasn't quite as curvy and full as Michele, but she definitely had
full breasts and an hourglass figure with formidable female hips and
shapely thighs, calves and pretty feet.

"Are you going to-" She made a stroking motion with one closed
fist.

"Do you mind?" I asked, closing one of my hands around my penis.

"I would mind only if you went back into the bathroom and kept me
from watching!"  She giggled and leered at me.

I stroked myself and soon I was very hard and throbbing in my fist and
beyond it.  I moved my fingers higher and caressed the head of my
circumcised member, then I let my cupped fingers slide all the way down
to the base and I gripped myself just above my balls and pointed my
pole at her.

"My my my," Connie said, leaning forward in the chair and gazing at
me, "this show is making me wet and very slick."

"So what are you waiting for?" I asked.  "An invitation?"

"Blush blush," she said.  "Yes."

"Then please, won't you join me?"

She smiled and placed one foot on each side of the chair, leaving her
knees high up and her legs spread wide.  Then her hands were at her
pussy and some fingers were opening it and others were stroking her
clit and still others suddenly shot inside it and made her moan and we
continued to play and watch each other.  I increased the speed of my
strokes and she varied her own ministrations and thrusts and it
wasn't long before I told her I was going to cum and then I finally
broke eye contact with her and let myself fall back on the bed and I
was cumming, shooting ropes of warmth all over my stomach and onto my
chest.
I heard Connie moan, looked across my body and saw her go into a fresh
wave of convulsions that left her legs spread and limp.

"God," she said.

I nodded.  "Yeah."

Then it grew quiet for a while and I shut my eyes and only opened them
when I felt her tracing her fingers lazily along the lines of sperm
spread across my stomach and chest.

"Tony," she said softly, "I know we're going to be good but can
you do one last thing for me?"

"What's that?"

She actually grabbed my still thick member and tugged me to a sitting
position.  Then I stood up.  Connie continued to grip my thick phallus
and led me to the bathroom.  Then she climbed into the tub and tugged
me along with her.  Then she released, knelt and smiled up at me.

"Pee?  Please?"

"Are you sure?"

"You better believe it.  It's been so long.  I'm tired of just
seeing pictures of that kind of fun on the Internet."

"What about Ted?"

"No.  I haven't told him I'm that weird yet."

"That's not weird," I said.  "Not if you're into it.
That's just another form of kinky."

"I know, but I haven't told him.  I don't want to spoil things.
They're good with him right now.  Maybe later.  But in the meantime,
Tony, I know you understand about things like that.  I trust you.  I
haven't had a good golden rinse in ages.  Please?"

She took my fat member in her hands and rolled it around and smiled
again.

"You really want that?"  I slapped her right cheek playfully with
the fat head of my penis, then her left, then her nose.

She laughed and pretended to bite it.  "I'm begging you, honey.  Do
it.  Please!"

"If you insist," I said, feeling myself giving in.  I stepped back
from her a few inches, then concentrated and felt my urine start to
rise up and out.  Then a hot torrent of piss jetted out of my semi-hard
phallus and caught her on the side of her cheek.  She laughed and
opened her mouth and I watched it fizz up with yellow liquid.  Then I
grabbed myself at the base and moved my rod up and soaked her forehead
and hair.

"I guess you should've waited to shower," I said.

That made us laugh for a minute, then she started the faucet and the
shower sprayed us with cool water.  I soaped her up, then it was her
turn.  We rinsed off and she hugged me with her naked slick body and
gave me a brief but open-mouthed kiss on the lips.  "Thank you,
brother-in-law.  I so needed that."

"Believe me, the pleasure was at least half mine!"

Connie moved in close and hugged me, then reached down and caressed my
member and balls.  "One last thank you.  For the last few months.
For being so supportive every step of the way.  For taking such great
care of my baby sister.  For what you and your friend did today.  For
making me feel a thousand times better than I have in ages."

"You're quite welcome."

We went to bed in separate beds but as I was dozing off, I felt her
climb into mine and slip under the covers and lay on her side, facing
away from me.  "Do you mind?"

"Anything for my sister," I said softly and spooned up against her.

"You pervert," she said, then giggled.

"In-law."

"Thank you, brother," she said, wiggling that magnificent ass a
little more snuggly into my crotch and wedging my hard member into the
depths of her ample cheeks.

"Now who's the pervert?" I asked, jabbing her with my penis.

"I never said I wasn't," she said.

Another laugh and we slept soundly the rest of the night.


THE END

Comments and your own exhibitionist stories welcome.  Write to:
tonyreeno@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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