Naked Girl Fun

A collection by P.A. Choi

Copyright 2023 P.A. Choi

Cover design by P.A. Choi.

Table of Contents

A Moonlit Meeting

A Slow Day at the Pool

On the Road with Yumi

Bikini Minus One

A Vacation with Five Naked Girls

A Tale of a Naked Girl

About P.A. Choi

A Moonlit Meeting

Adam didn't mind the dark. His bedroom was lit usually by only his desk lamp. It helped foster creativity. And when sneaking out for a glass of water late at night, he slinked in darkness, never putting on a light. But he was not accustomed to being outside in the dark.

He had hesitated at the entrance to the woods at the end of his street. Through them, during the day, he usually took a beaten-down path that skirted the neighborhood and came out at the top of a hill, where the town's water tower sat sentry, and where he could look down at the small town as if looking at a diorama. He liked to take those walks to let his mind wander, but tonight, he was taking a walk to get away, because his parents were bickering with each other.

He felt like a kid because of it, because of his desire for escapism, but he was an adult now. Supposedly. His parents sure didn't treat him like one. His dad scoffed at his participation in community college and his focus on the arts, and his mother coddled his creativity, certainly more supportive, but it came off as pandering. And it was a point of contention between the two of them. He didn't think that's what they were arguing about tonight, but he wasn't sticking around to find out. He was an adult, he could leave the house whenever he wanted. A biting guilt in the back of his mind, however, told him that the adult thing to do was remain present and weather the storm, perhaps mediate for his parents. But the draw of doing what he usually did on his daytime walks—only now in the hush of night—pulled him into the woods. It was a dangerous desire, and exciting. Certainly less dangerous in one aspect, as during the day, there was much more risk of being seen, but at night, who knew what predators could be about, or what unseen root would snag his foot and make him fall and twist his ankle? The moon, however, was high and bright, though once he stepped into the dense thicket, a heavy gloom fell down on him. Only silver petals of moonlight filtered down through the branches as Adam walked his familiar path.

It was warm still, and the night was filled with the chorus of crickets, which was almost deafening inside the forest. He wore sandals, thin shorts, and a t-shirt with a portrait of Picasso on it, and even in those, he already felt muggy in the thick heat of the night. Soon that would be remedied, he thought. He walked along the path as his eyes adjusted and he passed areas that were familiar in the night, such as the fallen log in the grove where he had once taken Stephanie, a school friend of his, and sketched her in the nude there in the subdued sunlight, and the little footbridge, which he stepped across carefully in this new darkness, and there stopped. His usual spot was further up the hill, at a little perfect pond in the middle of a clearing, but bordered safely on all sides by thick trees to ensure that skinny-dipping would be secure. It was there that he usually took off his clothes, but now, since it was night... Danger called. Adam turned in a circle, surveying the best he could his surroundings, and he figured, why not? Never before had he had the opportunity to go clothes-free, danger-free. What better opportunity to get naked and be truly free, without any consequences, to walk in the dark woods like he owned them. So he peeled off his shirt, stepped out of his sandals, and pulled his legs up and out, and just like that, he was naked in the night.

The air was no less oppressive on his clammy skin, but there was a sliver of relief. At least his boys could breathe, as did he, in a big heave and sigh, and then he rolled up his clothes and thought about walking with them, but the danger told him to leave them, to walk truly free. He wasn't free as long as he clung to his clothes. So he set them by a rock at the end of the footbridge. They would be impossible to miss, so long as he could find his way back to this spot. And then he turned, the only thing on his body being the sandals on his feet, and he marched up the hill, into the darkness, his heart beating fast, the danger drawing him forward.

Swimming in the pond in the daylight, Adam had past experienced a sense of true freedom, out of reach of the safety of his clothes, a sitting duck if anybody should walk up and discover him, though he had the safety of the water concealing at least partially his nudity. But it did not compare to the true terrifying sense of freedom he now had, walking foot-by-foot farther away from his bundled clothes, with no safety of concealment except for the cover of night, but with the confidence that nobody would be out here at this hour, and that he had the run of the forest, free to walk stark naked up and down the hill to his heart's content, and his heart beat faster. He even found himself growing a little erect.

Free, unleashed, thrown out in the world, I extend forward and let myself unfurl, stabbing through the darkness in seek of excitement, I breathe free and have no need to repent for my joy at being let out. If I could, I would shout, but my version of shouting is...

By the time Adam got halfway up the hill, he had become surprisingly accustomed to his vulnerable nudity, and the pond was soon ahead. He could tell by the glow of the moon that came through over the absence of trees, and he felt even more naked, even more exposed in this dome of God's creation, and he stepped out into the clearing and beheld the swimming spot in a new and fanciful light, the moon glittering on the surface of the water, and despite what nasty things could be waiting there, snakes or mosquitoes or whatever else, he hurried up to its shore, feeling his lesser self extended and wobbling, a surge in his chest almost like a cheer waiting to get out as he achieved his new goal of the new experience of swimming under the moonlight, and at the edge of the pond, he stopped and admired its dark beauty, completely different from how he was used to seeing it. Haunted, serene, a million miles from anywhere. And then a twig snapped. 

He was afraid to turn around. It had to be a bear. Or a serial killer. Bigfoot. Whatever it was, he didn't want to see it before he died. Just get it over with, he thought, also thinking, as he closed his eyes, that it was appropriate that he was dressed—or as undressed—just as he was when he had come into this world.

He could hear whatever it was still moving through the brush. Just a deer, he thought. Or something else non-threatening. He turned around to look. The girl seemed just as startled to see him from the front as much as he was surprised to see that she was not a woodland creature.

"Oh," she said with a tremble in her voice. "I thought you were a ghost."

It was Evelyn Masters, the rich girl who lived a few streets up. She didn't go to school with Adam and he barely talked to her, but he occasionally bumped into her outside of town and she always blew him away with her fantastic looks. She was way out of his league. Tonight she was dressed in a pair of shorts and a loose button-up that accentuated her features as much as hid them. Her straight and finely-combed chestnut hair hung around her shoulders. Adam could only imagine sketching her. That was a lie. He could imagine plenty more...

"You're Adam, right?"

Her voice brought him back to reality, but the scene didn't change. Suddenly aware of his body, Adam covered his privates with his hands.

"Uuh yeah, that's me. You're uuuh..." He pretended not to know her name.

"Evie. Or Evelyn. I didn't mean to interrupt..."

She took a step out of the brush, obviously not scared of him or interested in leaving. Why did his confidence disappear just because she recognized him? If he had been a nameless naked man in the woods, he would have acted like any of the muscled and long-maned men on the covers of romance novels, but even nameless, he would still be lanky, gangly, tall but not broad-shouldered.

"Yeah, I was just... it's not so weird to go skinny-dipping, is it?" He dropped his hands from his crotch, feeling brave to let it be exposed, but then casually moved his hand in front of it again.

"At night? maybe a little weird. But hey, I was coming to do the same thing."

"Y-you were?"

"Yeah? What's so weird about that? You said it."

"Well, you said it'd be weird at night."

He stood there, fully presented to her, but suddenly more confident.

"I did, didn't I? Well I guess I didn't expect anybody else to be out here."

She stepped forward again, and Adam tensed, his hand pressed against his crotch. His penis fought against his palm. And just like that, Evie began undressing, right before Adam's stupefied eyes. Her shirt was quickly unbuttoned, and she wore nothing underneath. Her large, buoyant breasts hung in the night. She stood in nothing but her thin shorts, and soon she did away with those, too, and all of Adam's imagination was fulfilled. He barely had time to react before the last piece was taken down. She stood as naked and free as he, and unashamed, and her bright skin glowed under the moonlight through the branches. She was so seamless; there was not a mark of hair down there, and her skin traveled flawlessly down her thighs. Adam gulped and fondled himself in his palms, wondering when to let himself free.

"Usually, in the movies, kids go swimming in their underwear," he said bravely.

"Isn't that stupid?" Evie said and stepped out of her shorts, barefoot, her sandals discarded behind. She was treacherously close to him. Then she passed. He was of no interest to her. She made her way for the water, looking back as Adam turned, in order to shout: "Are you coming in?"

He could only watch as she entered the water, glittering with the moonlight, and Adam felt like he was under the influence, drunk or high off the sight of her waving her hands on the glowing surface and sending up luminescent splashes about her shining body. Her breasts moved with weight and Adam's mouth went dry as he observed what was for the moment a dream-image. But this was real. He counted himself glad that he came out this night. His hand fell away from his crotch and his arousal presented itself.

Pulsing with want, but with no hope of release, I watch my desire twirl around and conspire, think, of some way, that I can have my way, under the moon or somewhere else, my lust is so often felt…

The trance lifted and Adam realized where he was, and his feet moved first, before he realized he had commanded them, and he stepped into the pond before the glittering, unreal vision in front of him.

The water was cold on his ankles, shins, thighs, and the rest. He threw himself in and paddled out to join Evie. For a brief moment, his lust was forgotten as he remembered how he wondered how the swim would feel. He soon closed the distance between him and her and they were soon treading water in front of each other. There was no fear. There was no thrill. There was just peace, he and her.

Evie bared her teeth in a smile and then turned and paddled away from Adam, and he gently followed, a slow-motion pursuit drawn out in ripples over the water. Evie reached the opposite shore and rose up, the flare of her hips and the perfect symmetry of her rear-end looking back as Adam spurted and peered through splashes of dark water. She was the brightest thing all around, with the moonlight coming down on her. If this were a video game, she would be the quest marker, Adam thought. He followed his goal as she stepped completely out of the water and raised her hands to wring out her long hair, her body turning slightly so that she was in a rear three-quarter view, one breast peeking out from the front, overall a perfect picture of femininity, so that when Adam plodded out of the pond behind her, he was freshly aroused.

Evie turned and smiled at him.

"You ever go walking around here like that?"

Adam glanced down at himself and blushed, though she would not be able to tell in the moonlight.

"I usually don't have Evelyn Masters hanging around with me."

It was only then that she glanced down at what he was talking about with an amused smirk. "I mean naked, out here."

Adam blinked and blushed fuller.

"Oh, yeah, well, not too far from the pond. I like to come here in the daylight."

"Well it's night now, nobody will see... let's walk to the top of the hill."

"It's so open up there..."

"Yeah, it'll be cool. And like I said, who's gonna see us?"

Adam imagined that with the moon out, he and Evie would stand out the way that she stood out to him right now. But if anybody were to look out at the field and the water tower, they might just assume that he and her were ghosts. So Adam nodded and stepped forward, then looked forlornly back at the pond.

"I wish I could go get my sandals," he said.

"Mine are over there, too. Who cares? We're completely au-natural now, like a bunch of cavemen."

"Unga bunga."

"That's the spirit."

And so they turned, Evie just a little ahead of Adam, and they entered the dark woods. It was not Adam's usual route; his went past the right side of the pond, where currently they set off from the opposite shore, which ended up being less steep, the path wider. It was probably the intended way to go and Adam had just been an idiot all this time. And like an idiot, he couldn't help but grin as Evie's wagging tail led the way. It moved in an effortlessly hypnotic way, each pale cheek in harmony shifting in subtle little wiggles, hardening him fully.

Led along as if by a string I go, stabbing the air before me, seeking out my receding prize. To cleft between those two plush cheeks, and enter... that is my ultimate desire. No, not the ultimate; the ultimate is the wriggling, pulsing release, the hot flood of my sacrifice rendered before the perfect sculpted effigy of my yearning…

Before they reached the water tower, they had talked a little. Evie asked Adam why he was out there at night, instead of during the day like usual, and Adam regretfully had to catch up to her and no longer be able to stare unhindered at her shifting rear, and he thought about omitting the fact that he was escaping the chaos of his parents fighting, and just said he had wanderlust. That was partially true. He did have a lust in him.

"I just like the mystery of it," Evie said, eyes ahead. "And the nature. It's like... I live in comfort all the time, I kind of wanted to see what it was like to not have any of that."

"Unga Bunga."

"Right! I want to feel like I'm an Indian. Native American, I mean. Or a caveman. Or cavewoman, I suppose. I wonder if it will give me inspiration for writing, too."

“Oh, you write? What about?”

“Oh... anything that comes to my mind.”

As they walked, Adam's rigidity receded to half-mast and he no longer felt self-conscious about it or proud of it. It just was, wagging in front of him, reminding himself of his nudity, but not uncomfortably so. He did feel like some form of ancient man, he supposed. The little thrill of being naked and far from his clothes was overtaken instead by a sense of calm and comfort, and the freedom of his body's movement in the humid night air, no clothes to collect and fester his sweat, and next to him a beautiful naked girl, a perfect specimen of what the female of his species should be. And then they stepped out into the clearing.

Mentally, Adam took in a breath of awe at the naked vista, and Evie took in an audible one. The dome of the night sky was overpowering, as was the line of sight, across a dark highway, to the houses just outside the neighborhood. And to their right, the lights of the homes on the streets in which they lived, one of them the lights of Adam's home, and as his eyes turned, Evie was right there beside him, close enough to touch, delectable enough to stain in his memory, her posture erect, her free breasts thrust out, her air of confidence so natural.

"Wow," Adam said, more at the realization of the naked girl beside him than at the other scenery, and Evie affirmed "yeah" as she gazed up at the water tower, where Adam felt eyes were looking down upon him, where he stood with no cover, either from trees or his own hands. He stood nude and proud, his arousal still only half-formed.

"This is kind of unreal," Adam said, glancing over at the nude and shapely figure next to him, his feet inching him just a little closer.

"I've never felt so free," Evie replied, and she looked down at the glittering lights blow them, rather than at her compatriot. "Say, you wanna sneak down there?" she then said.

"What?"

"Let's walk down onto the street. Nobody's up, it'll be rad."

"Oh, man..."

"Chicken?"

"I don't want to get arrested for being a perv."

"What would happen? Say somebody sees us, they'd either think we're ghosts, or by the time they've called the police, we'd have turned around and run. Nobody will recognize us when we have our clothes back on."

Boy, Evelyn is more crazy than I thought.

"You game?"

Adam stewed on the thought. Getting arrested for public indecency on the night his parents were already keyed up in a fight didn't sound like a great way to conclude the night, but perhaps Evie was right. Was there any real risk? The danger called again...

"Let's do it."

"Hell yeah," Evie replied with a grin which Adam glanced towards and felt a hint of intimidation from, and any arousal had faded despite the exciting proposal and the exciting visage of the person who suggested it, even as she sprung forward and ran down the grassy slope towards the lights, her bottom now more animatedly bouncing with her wide strides. Adam followed her as if pulled along by a string.

They plunged into a tangle of brush, navigated their way, and spilled out onto a cul-de-sac, looking onwards at the lonely street lit by widely spaced sodium vapor lamps. The danger overtook the feeling of comfort and now felt truly dangerous. What am I doing? Adam thought. Evie rushed forward down the middle of the street as if there was no concern about being seen naked out in the open. Her rhythmic bottom pulled him forward.

"Where will we go?" he called after her.

"Shh, we don't want to draw too much attention."

What plan did she have? They were sitting ducks, exceedingly foolish ones at that. Where were they supposed to go from here? As if reading Adam's mind, Evie called out: "my house is just down the road."

Her house. Adams' chest tightened and a throb of renewed excitement began below as he followed his partner in crime. This was beginning to feel like a normal menage a trois. Well, normal except for the fact that they already had ridden themselves of their clothes.

"Your house? Are we going..."

"Just for a pit stop," Evie said in a lower voice. Adam had caught up to her enough so that he didn't have to shout. Her butt was no longer in his vision, but instead, her slightly sweat-beaded shoulders, and the scent of her girl-sweat was in his nostrils.

"Aren't your parents up? Can I just walk in—"

"It's a big house, dude," Evie said. "I have my own entrance."

There wasn't any protest in Adam's mind at the scenario of the most desirable girl in town leading him into her abode, all in the absence of clothes. That she was out of his league was no concern now; they were both naked and equal. And there was no assumption that there was anything within the realm of sexual going on as he followed her to her abode.

I am a moth drawn by a flame, a fire that won't extinguish, not tonight, and tomorrow all the same. It will consume me day after day, like Sisyphus pushing the boulder, but it is a pleasurable punishment I'd say, because every arrival at the top of the hill is an opportunity for bliss and a split-second thrill, before I fall down again…

The back lot of the mansion was exceedingly lit as Evie and Adam dashed across the patio to the back door. The danger was real now, and suddenly Adam didn't want any part of it, but following his flame was preferable to being a naked sitting duck outside.

The room beyond the door was dimly lit compared to the brightly-lit windows above, and with a hint of fear suddenly, Adam stepped into the darkness and Evie brushed past him to close the door. He trembled from the faint touch as the crickets were shut out, but not the light from outside, still coming through the door's framed glass window. Then Evie reached for a dimmer, and the lights rose.

"Wow," Adam marveled.

"Shh."

The room was massive, from the entrance where they stood stretching over a hundred feet, a wide, open floor featuring an exercise area with a treadmill and a bench, past that a pool table and a bar off to the right, and a half-circle of couches before a big-screen TV, and past that a small portal leading into yet another room. Behind the bar to the right was a set of double-glass doors and a visible, half-lit staircase leading to the upper floors.

"All this is yours?" Adam asked, breathing heavily from the thrill of just being outside.

"Keep your voice low," Evie said, stepping up next to him. "Yeah, this is basically my apartment. There's enough room in the house for two whole families, so I get the run of it down here until I'm done with school."

She walked ahead and Adam stumbled forward after a second's delay, wondering if he should reach out and touch her, but doubting himself, as she gave no signals. There was nothing sexual about the situation despite their lack of clothes, and despite his obvious show of sexual frustration, a show she seemed to miss. He followed the jiggly motion of her butt as she gave him the twelve-cent tour.

"This is the recreation area, though it's usually just me by myself watching movies. You want any water?"

"Uh, sure."

He followed her past the bar to the little open doorway, and they came into a smaller room, unlit except for the light coming in from the doorway and a distant window somewhere ahead. A little dining table sat cozily to the right with a mini-kitchen behind it (no stove, just a microwave) and a closed door was the left. There was a mini-fridge, and Evie stepped around the table in the dim room and her body lit up when she opened it and took out two bottled waters. She turned to Adam and held one out to him and he took it at the distance that his ebbing erection wouldn't be able to reach her. She twisted the cap off of hers and drank thirstily, a trickle running down her collarbone to rappel down the dome of her right breast. Adam realized he was staring and twisted the cap off of his bottle.

"Man, we smell like the pond," Evie said after taking a swig. Her nose wrinkled. Adam swallowed and smacked his lips.

"Yeah..."

"How 'bout a shower?"

Adam blinked.

"S-sure."

The bathroom was past the dining area, the eastern-most room. It was rather small, with the shower right next to the toilet, but the shower was long enough for them to both stand in. Adam had thought at first that Evie had meant for them to shower one at a time. He didn't want to ask or assume anything. When he hesitated at the door after Evie stepped in, she had turned around grinning and said: "are you coming in?" He was free to be as erect as he liked, then.

And erect he was, his head bumping against Evie's thighs as she faced him after turning on the water. His hands, well-behaved for all this time, were now permitted to touch, and the moment his fingertips rested on the slippery surface of her breasts was a moment of achievement, every longing look towards Evie in the past now rewarded.

She squirted a glob of body wash onto his raised palms and he knew what to do. He massaged soapy foam onto her breasts, each more than a handful. He polished them like a bronze bust. A coughing squirt repeated and Evie's hands were filled, and she ran them down Adam's sides. There was no use of a washcloth or a scrunchie; it was just a quick rinse-off. Adam panted as he palmed Evie's chest and his erection prodded at her thighs as her body pivoted with her movements. There were no words that needed to be spoken other than the non-verbal communication of lust, and Adam was about overcome with it. As his face drew nearer to Evie's, her head dropped. She lowered herself, massaging suds onto his abdomen until her hands fell to his curved pride and she finally acknowledged it. With a slippery, soapy hand, she wrung it out, and Adam winced. As her hand ended up wrapped around his crown, he sucked in the air through his teeth and Evie gently pressed his trunk against her face. She nuzzled it against her cheek, closed her eyes, and shook her head, taking the base of his cock across the front of her face, her lips gliding along his dorsal vein until her left cheek accepted its touch. Adam pulsed and almost lost the contents of his lust, but when she brought it back to center and tapped it against her pursed lips, he managed to weather it, but not the irresistible desire. He pushed his hips and his cock glided up her nose. He withdrew and aimed to penetrate her mouth, but she closed them and a wet hand came up to rinse the suds off his cock, and kissed him on the crown before rising again, the underside of his cock sliding against her abdomen and then settling in the crook of her thighs as she met eyes with him and leaned in to kiss him. Their bodies pressed together and Adam's hands, rather than wrapping around her waist in the traditional posture of kissing lovers, placed on her hips and then glided back to her butt, and her heat pinned his cock against him, until they released the kiss, smiled dreamily at each other, and his tip fell and tickled his goal. Evie leaned in for another kiss while reaching down between them to guide him. A forceful pop signaled his entrance, and then all was warmth down below, and all over, as they embraced again and fucked standing.

Through the rubicon, blissful suffocation, sensations all over, but especially at my terminus, where I feel and sense everything, and now it is too much. Each push and pull is agony and bliss, until one overshadows the other. The agony is instant, and it ends in a hot pulse, replaced by the definition of bliss flooding out of me. I weaken, but am still trapped in paradise.

*****

He was supremely comfy and warm. Warm from his cover, and warm from the breathing body next to him. Adam rolled over to look at his bedmate and he squinted against the light.

"Oh shit."

Evie's eyes fluttered open.

"What is it?"

"It's morning. I didn't mean to sleep the whole night."

He abruptly sat up and looked over at the little desk beside the bed, where an old-fashioned clock sat next to a closed journal that Adam had remarked on when they entered the little bedroom (she was coy about the contents of her journal). He squinted at the unfamiliar clock handles and was able to determine that it was only about seven fifty—no: nine thirty-five!

"Holy fuck."

"Shhh."

Adam threw the blanket off and got out of bed, looking for his clothes, only to recall that he left his clothes all the way back at the pond.

"Oh God."

"Is it really that big a deal?" Evie asked him, coiling up in the sheets like she was beckoning him back in.

"My parents will wonder where I've been. Hopefully they didn't call the cops."

"They really worry about you that much, huh?"

He finally turned and looked back at her, seductive-looking in the bed, and he felt ridiculous standing there nude and for once not erect.

"Yeah, don't yours?"

"They let me do my own thing. We're adults, afterall."

Supposedly, Adam thought towards himself. Man, he was really in a spot.

"How the heck am I going to get back home? I can't even call them."

"You can't wait it out? I don't mind. We can be lazy and cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Naked, of course."

He looked at her again with the greatest longing. No, I can't, he thought. He might as well move into Evie's place at that point. He had had his fun, and it was a night full of bliss from end to end.

"I can't," he said. "I have to get back. ...No hard feelings." He added the last part when he saw her pout, but her pout turned into a smile and he knew she wasn't really upset. The sight almost made him hard again, even though she was wrapped up and concealed in the sheets.

"I'm going to assume you don't have anything I can wear," he said. Evie threw the sheets off and swung her legs out to stand, and just like that, what was concealed was again revealed, and Adam was amazed all over again. Her skin was now golden instead of pale, thanks to the sunlight coming in through the window as she paced to her dresser, and Adam studied the subtle shakes of her breasts—and, when she turned, the lively jiggles of her cheeks.

"I might have an oversized t-shirt but... no bottoms, I'm afraid."

"Figures."

"Unless you want to try to fit into... this!"

She turned around holding a black pair of booty shorts before her that looked like they were children's size. Adam laughed and wondered why girls even struggled to fit into such things, but the answer was before him. Then she turned and put the shorts back, and then moved over to the left, to her closet, with Adam staring the whole time and contemplating making love to her once more before he left. He was certainly ready now.

"How about a towel?" she asked, turning again and spreading out a large beach towel, obscuring the pretty view of her. "If anybody sees you, you were swimming."

Adam stared at her, then at the towel.

"Yeah, better than nothing."

She dropped it, revealing herself again.

"Nothing's better than nothing!" she said, and canted her hips and her delicious bare-smooth vulva. Adam grunted and stumbled forward like a Frankenstein of love.

He was plowing her against the dresser when a voice echoed down from outside.

"Shit," he said right as he came into her.

"Quick," her hot breath panted against his lips. "In the closet."

Adam did what he was told and when the coats and shirts on their hangers were pulled in front of him, all he could do was listen, and unintentionally add touch-ups to her wardrobe with the tip of his stiff brush.

He heard the muffled voice of an older woman, and the clearer voice of Evie responding to her.

"I was just looking for something to wear," Evie said. "Not that I'm going anywhere."

Her mother said something in response and then all was quiet. Adam stood in suspense until the closet door opened again.

"Alright, all clear."

"Did you talk to your mom naked?"

"Yeah. no big deal. Girl thing."

"I guess..."

"She's getting ready to head out now, so perfect timing."

"Great." He didn't want to keep pressing and ask about her dad. He was probably at work. Adam felt less than presentable in his interrupted post-coitus state and definitely wanted to get cleaned up, and dressed for once. Evie grabbed the towel.

When they heard the car pulling out, Adam escaped the bedroom, relieved himself in the bathroom, where he glanced at the shower that held the recent memory of his lust's great fulfillment, and then he stepped out and relished his nakedness in Evie's presence one last time before tying the towel around his waist. Evie remained nude, studying him as if judging whether he was wearing an effective disguise or not.

"Looks good to me," she said. "Just don't let the towel fall."

"Right.... Maybe I should put on the shirt over it, too."

Evie grinned and bit her lip.

"Well that would take out some of the fun. It'd be more of a thrill knowing that all you have to cover yourself is a towel."

Adam rolled his eyes.

"It's not a long walk anyway," he said. "I'll come back sometime to return the towel, though."

"I hope so!"

They leaned in for an innocent kiss and then Evie led him down the expansive apartment floor to the back door.

"See ya sometime," he told her, and she flashed a smile and then he was out into the sunlight, holding the knot of the towel firmly so he himself wouldn’t be doing any flashing.

His chest was tight as he walked in plain sight around to the front of Evie's house and stepped out onto the street. It was a quiet morning, and he passed by motionless houses, knowing assuredly that most people would be at work, or working from home and not looking out the window, and that even if they did, the sight of a shirtless young man wearing a towel wouldn't be that unusual. Before he made his way to the end of the street where the entrance to the forest trail was, though, a car horn honked. Adam looked over his shoulder and on the bisecting main street was his father's familiar gray station wagon.

"Hey," his dad called. "There you are." Adam had no choice but to face him and approach his vehicle.

"Where'd you go? You been swimming?"

"Y-yeah. The one neighbor girl has a pool," he said.

"That rich girl? Nice."

Adam clenched the knot of the towel in his fist and felt weird just for his father to see him bare-chested. Evie might be able to casually chat with her mother sans clothes, but that wasn't something fathers and sons did, at least not Adam and his father.

"Well alright, just text us or something next time," his father said. Adam was getting off easy. As he nodded his head and took one more step forward, the knot collapsed in his hand and the back of the towel fell and he grasped to hold it up, flashing a length of bare thigh all the way to his hip. His father scrunched his nose and went "hmmph," and then slowly accelerated up the road. Adam was left pulling the towel around him again to conceal his pale ass, and he turned and hurried down the street towards the cul-de-sac, heart pumping all the way. He avoided looking at the houses on the street. By the time he got to the treeline, he let the towel fall open again and just slung it over his shoulder, and he hurried nude through the thinly forested path until he broke ground at the top of the hill, in the clearing with the water tower, and he kept the towel on his shoulder. He stopped and decided to savor this one perfect moment, naked out in broad daylight with the assurances that nobody was around before he disappeared into the trees and headed for the pond.

*****

I'm excited to be free. Almost as aroused as I was when I entered the object of my desires. But my excitement will never tire. Each day is a new opportunity to bake in the sun, and at night, I will seek out that special one. Through the dark trees I weave, though I came, she will never leave.

"So you wrote a poem about me?" Adam asked Evie days later, as he sat at her desk in her bedroom, his bare ass on the wooden chair, while she lounged on her bed, also nude.

"Sort of... It's not you, but, well, your other self."

"So you wrote a poem about my dick."

Evie laughed.

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

"...I kind of like it."

"I just couldn't help thinking when I saw you that night, ‘that thing has a mind of its own.’"

Ain't that the truth, Adam thought as he remembered his urgent, internal pleading to have his lust satiated. He had been literally led along by his erection, pointing the way at what it wanted. The pleading wasn't from him. He also thought of revealing his artistic pursuits, glancing at Evie laid out on the bed, a gentle, erotic landscape that he would like to immortalize in more than just his mind. It seemed that they both had creative outlets to funnel their sexual obsessions into. If only Adam had known long ago, Evie might have been a companion for a long time. All he had needed was the confidence, confidence that started with being out of his clothes.

A Slow Day at the Pool

It was a slow day at the pool, Joe's favorite type of day. A thunderstorm had chased most of the people away, and though it too went away, it remained cloudy and drizzly. There were no more people coming through for sure, but he had to remain open as long as it wasn't thundering. It was now late into his shift—past seven o'clock—and in a couple more hours, he would be done. Just a couple more hours and he could be confident that nobody would walk in on him while he partook in a favorite slow-pool-day pastime: taking a skinny dip. He had to be sure, though, so for the time being, he cleaned up inside the main building.

The pool was located within a mountain community, open only to property owners. Nestled in the woods, one couldn't see past the gate for the trees. It made an activity like skinny dipping easy to do in secret. Joe had done it a couple times, albeit very briefly, before closing up, when it got dark. Why did he do it? Not out of any particular desire to be nude, but rather because it made going home easier: his shorts wouldn't be wet. That, and he discovered, on his first skinny dip, that there was a raw thrill to it, and also that swimming nude felt amazing, like you were nothing at all.

The pool patio itself was rather large, considered an Olympic-sized pool, but it was not deep, only five feet at the deep end. And overlooking the pool was a large, rustic building with no air conditioning but which held a game room full of old arcade machines, some pool tables, bathrooms, and a cooler with ice cream bars. And that was where Joe bided his time while the sky darkened, playing Donkey Kong and occasionally peeking his head out the side door to make sure no guests had snuck in. He was completely alone.

He wrapped up his closing duties quickly after that so he could enjoy his swim and then promptly leave. He straightened all the chairs and picked up any trash left by the previous guests, and he closed up the building's heavy shutters, which would make it an oven inside. The sun was quickly falling, though, and it would cool off.

Soon there was nothing left to do, and it was still light, and Joe was impatient. With a hammering heart, he considered swimming. He would be able to take his time. He looked up at the slate-grey sky. The prospect of someone else visiting was very unlikely, but possible. Shaking, he walked to the gate and peered out into the wide gravel parking lot, which was completely empty. His car was parked in the campground area which he walked from and through the woods to get to work every day. It was a shorter route than going outside of the resort and entering through the other side.

Empty parking lot. Gray sky. Settling dusk. Anyone who came up would assume the pool was closed. To add to that illusion, Joe closed and latched the gate, but did not go through the trouble of securing the padlock, as it was latched closed so nobody could tamper with it, and his keys were all the way back inside. It was fine. He was golden. It was time to strip down.

Right there by the loungers where guests had sat and laughed in their swimsuits during the day, Joe took off his shirt as any normal pool-goer would, laid it on the lounger, on top of his towel which he already placed there. And then, with only a brief feeling of fear, he pulled down his shorts before hesitation could seize him. Just as if he was a normal swimmer. As if getting completely naked to enter the water was a normal thing, with what light left from the sun coming in through the sheet of clouds the only thing to see him, besides any prospective people, were they to be standing at the closed gate. In that brief moment, Joe could be seen through the gate to the greater parking lot outside, but once he walked away from the lounger, he was hidden and safe, and he drank in the sensation of standing there completely nude, so forbidden, so impossible, but happening. It was a strange thing to reflect on, but Joe liked the feeling of his penis bobbing freely as he walked, and the unfamiliar draft on his bare butt. Then he entered the pool via the shallow end and threw himself forward.

Like the two times before, it was like diving into nothing. His body freely sliced through the water without anything to obstruct his movement. With no sensation of his trunks billowing around his waist, it felt as if he were in a sensory deprivation tank. The only sensation was the feeling of his penis moving around in the current he created. But he was more or less used to the feeling now. He swam to the deep end and rested his hands on the concrete edge, relishing his complete freedom in the water. This was his paradise. And he was getting paid to be in it.

He took another lap to the shallow end, and when reaching there, he glanced towards where the gate was and wished he could see out of it from this angle, for safety. But he had only fate to rely on, and he accepted whatever fate he had and threw himself back and backpedaled into the center of the pool, something he had never tried before, never mind not having ever been skinny dipping while it was still light. It felt almost obscene, to have his penis presented to the world and laying on his thigh while he gently stroked (not his penis!) his way to the center, looking up at the churning, charcoal sky. He had heard one could still get a tan even through the clouds. The sun's light penetrated them, afterall. Would his penis get a sunburn? He supposed that was a question to ask a dedicated nudist. Though he liked to swim naked at his job, Joe never considered himself a nudist.

He drifted to a halt and righted himself to see that he was close to the deep end, so he leaned forward and swam back to the shallow end to start the process over, touching his feet against the pool's side and gently pushing himself back, splaying out and enjoying the sensation of floating in bliss. He didn't hear the latch on the fence creak because of the splash he made pushing himself.

"Well hel-lo there!"

"Yep, I think we found the right pool!"

Joe scrambled in the water and righted himself to a perpendicular position and beheld his worst nightmare and ultimate fantasy: four young women, walking up to the edge of the pool, peering down and grinning at him. There were two almost identical-looking blondes with long, wavy hair, both in t-shirts and alluring bikini bottoms that were half-obscured; there was a Chinese-looking girl with a mischievous-looking grin—probably the one who had said "hel-lo there!"—and a black bikini that complimented her jet-black hair and left little to the imagination as far as the composition of her body. And the perhaps least-troublemaking-looking of them all, a brunette girl with her already-wet hair slicked back and tickling her neck where it showed above the collar of her modest top, a white button-up shirt showing the faint hue of her skin through wet stains. She was only half-smiling, craning her neck to confirm what she was seeing: Joe's nude body, rippled under the water.

He let his feet sink to the bottom and dived his hands into the water to cover himself. "S-sorry," he said. "I-I didn't think anybody else was coming."

The Chinese girl whispered something into one of the blondes’ ears and she laughed.

"You work here?" the other blonde asked, looking at him with an unbreaking gaze and a smirk.

"Uh, yeah, it was kind of a slow day, and I—"

"Had the right idea, then!" she replied, and turned away to drop the bag she was carrying on a lounger, the same lounger that Joe's clothes were lying on.

"I, uh, have to sign you in," he said. The other blonde and her two dark-haired friends were still watching him with amusement. "Do you all live here?"

"No, we're staying in a BnB. We walked here through the campground."

"Oh... Do you have guest passes?"

"No, we don't. Can you still sign us in?"

Typically, if someone was a guest but they lacked a guest pass, Joe was supposed to turn them away. He had been a pushover more than once with visiting families with adorable children who would cry when first told they couldn't swim. Was he about to turn away four pretty girls?

The brunette turned to drop her bag on a free chair and the Asian and the two blondes stared at him, all biting their lips.

Screw it, Joe thought, and his hands left his crotch and he waded towards the steps, and the girls backed up to clear his exit.

Joe was twenty-one, and worked this job during his summers off from college. His only actual sexual experience had been a thirty-second handjob that had made a mess on his pants. He had never been fully nude in front of anybody before. Might as well now, he thought. He had been brave enough to be nude here as it was. So he walked up the steps and slowly lifted the rest of his body into clear view for the increasingly delighted girls. The brunette by the chair turned and raised her eyebrows in surprise, while the others were still grinning. They gave him plenty of space; he started for his chair in order to put on his clothes, but saw that all the girls' stuff was sitting on top of them. Instead—amazingly (he could hardly believe he was doing it)—he angled to the left, towards his clipboard, walking nude and proud. He noted that familiar sway to his penis given a little more weight and resistance—and show—and it made him feel good, not humiliated, as well as did the knowledge that the girls were probably looking at his ass right then.

Once at the steps, Joe picked up the clipboard and turned around just like that. Just as he had casually undressed when nobody was there, he stood before the girls as if he were still wearing clothes. His hands unable to cover himself, his excitement unable to hide its growth, he held out the clipboard to the talkative blonde, as she was the first to reach him, with a quick eye cast down at his dick. Then she took the clipboard and he had nothing on him, not one single piece of artificial anything. He was a completely naked and natural man.

"Let's see, name..." She pulled the pen from the clip and scribbled. The other girls came and stood around her, looking past her to Joe, and he folded his hands, but he folded them behind his back. He was being daring. He hoped he would be rewarded. He hoped he would be caught by nobody else. "Lot number?" she then said with confusion.

"You don't know?"

"No."

"You can just put the street your BnB is on. Or something. Nobody looks at this unless someone causes trouble."

What an appropriate statement, he thought. And how weird for him to say so many words when wearing no little, his hands still behind his back, his heels bouncing him a little. He had managed to not become fully erect, and didn't know if that would be a forward and offensive gesture or not. Well, he supposed it would literally be forward.

The first girl set the clipboard down in the nook of the railing and the other blonde stepped forward, filling the clipboard out while glancing at him, while the first blonde crossed over to stand on his other side.

"So do you always skinny dip here when there's nobody around?" the girl asked, not leaning in particularly close, but standing close enough. A lowered arm came inches from his dick (or so it seemed) and it jumped a little.

"Yeah," he said, and tried to change his posture. He kept his hands behind his back and slouched a little against the railing. "Well, a little bit. Every now and then."

The other blonde, meanwhile, stepped away from the clipboard and the Asian girl now signed in, looking up first and grinning at Joe, then at his dick, which held a slightly higher-elevated position.

"Well, hopefully you won't have a problem if we skinny dip, too!" the talkative blonde said and stopped leaning against the rail to walk past Joe, trailing her hand behind her. It almost touched him. He felt the draft of her fingers. What had she felt?

Then he realized her question.

"Uuuuh, what?" he exclaimed, and stumbled behind her. The Asian girl had handed the clipboard to the brunette girl, who raised her eyebrows, under which she had remarkably striking, green eyes, and then she focused on the clipboard. She seemed the most reserved of the group.

"Hey, wait," he called after the blonde, then he looked down at the clipboard. He was standing very close to the brunette girl and she did not move. He leaned in close enough to read the top-most name but not so close that his penis would brush against the woman. He had actually lost a little bit of hardness with that sudden jolt of fear.

The names, in order, were Julie, Josie, Sage, and whatever the brunette’s name would turn out to be as her pen scribbled.

"Uuuuh, Josie." he looked up at Josie. She was already by his lounger, pulling her t-shirt off and reaching behind to untie her bikini top. "Shit." The brunette laughed and Joe looked down again and saw her scribbling the time next to her name: Margaux.

Josie, meanwhile, was now topless, her heavy breasts golden and tanned, her nipples prominent and surrounded by large, bumpy areola. Then she pulled the string on her bikini bottom.

"Hey, look, uh..." God, I am going to get in so much trouble.

"Josie," Josie said, as if it was her name that he was stuck on. "And that's my sister, Julie," she said, pointing to the other blonde girl, who was repeating the process, taking off her t-shirt, under which she wore nothing, and stripping down her bikini bottom to the sight of seamless, smooth skin. She was as golden and tanned as her sister.

"Sage," the Asian girl said, twisting off her bikini top. Soon she stood in just her skimpy bottom, but not for long. Joe almost gasped at the delightful sight of a full, shaggy line of pubic hair.

"Yeah, look, I might get in trouble, and I, uh—"

"Any more trouble than you would get in if you were caught alone?" Josie asked, and Joe had no answer. The brunette, now the only one dressed, put down the pen and smiled at Joe, looking him directly in the eye and not even glancing down below. Joe had the weird desire to cover himself for some reason.

"They can be a handful," she said.

"I guess, uh..." he glanced down at the sign-in sheet again. "...Margaux? Am I pronouncing that right?"

"Yep. Like Margot Robbie."

"Cool," he said, his hand creeping to cover himself. He could feel his penis bumping against his palm, ready to go rigid again. There was something so modest and different about Margaux, who still wore her white button-up and a pair of tan shorts. Joe almost asked are you going to be getting naked, too? but she turned with one last smile and walked over to a chair, set down her bag, and answered that question. Just as Josie took a running leap into the pool along with her sister, Margaux unbuttoned her white shirt. There was a strap of a bikini, but without pause, Margo pulled the strings loose and then immediately pulled down her tan shorts, sliding them down her full, bare cheeks. So much for modesty.

When she turned around, Margaux was a stunning vision. Her pubic hair was thick and dark and full in the old-fashioned sense, with a hint of auburn, and her breasts were simple, small, and pointy, and she was naturally tan all over. Julie and Josie looked more like a tanning booth type of tan, but Margaux looked like she was used to living under the sun. She slowly walked over to the shallow end steps, where Sage was standing, in contrast to her because she was the only one who looked pale. She was tan, but not as tan as the others.

"You gonna get in with us?" Sage called seductively as Margaux gently slipped in and threw herself forward to swim, and Josie and Julie swam circles, their golden butts rising out of the water. The whole scene was like any schoolboy's fantasies—or Joe’s, on those quiet days at the pool.

"Uh..."

His hands had fallen to his sides. His penis was on a slow upward climb again. His mind was still processing if this was a dream or not. But in the end, did it matter?

"Hold on," he said, holding up his finger, and he turned and went up the porch steps.

"Awww, where're you going?" Josie called out, but he walked around the porch to the lobby door and entered.

He had never actually been inside the building naked before, and it was odd to be walking through it now, especially with an erection, which had now sprung up fresh despite him turning his back to the girls. It had sprung up fresh because he was anticipating the moments to come. He went into the kitchen area and grabbed his key ring, and quickly came back out, marching with purpose, his gait agitated, his thoughts expressed in the wobbly five inches in front of him. All of the girls were swimming circles around the pool, except for Sage, who stood waist-deep in the center, as if she were commanding her mermaid army, but she was turning and watching Joe. He walked around the shallow end to the gate, jangling his keys and fearful that he was presenting himself full-frontal to anybody that might be outside. His heart was pumping like crazy when he reached the gate, closed it, threw the latch down, and snaked the heavy chain around it. His hands were shaking as he unlocked the padlock and fed it through the links, securing it closed again, ensuring nobody else would intrude.

"Good idea," Sage said, and, ignoring her, Joe went to his next task: he hurried over to his lounger where Josie's clothes were piled on top of his, and he rooted through all the pieces until he pulled his towel up from the bottom, then he hurried over to the gate and ensured their privacy by draping the towel over it. It was long enough that it was a successful screen; the only thing someone would be able to see were their feet.

"Genius," Sage added, and when Joe turned around, he beheld her standing in the center of her swimming friends. He noted how dark her nipples were compared to the rest of her hue, and how her jet-black hair was already wet and stringy. What was it about water that made a woman one hundred times more sexy?

"Come in, come in, come in," Sage began to chant, clapping. Of the other three swimming, only Josie stopped and stood and joined in the chant as well. Joe was standing proud and nude above them, and now he had everything he wanted. He ran towards the edge. And, embarrassingly, he slipped.

It was something he saw all the time as a pool attendant. It was why the pool had a no-running policy. And here he was, becoming one of those probabilities that the managers feared about. His feet went out from under him. He landed flat on his ass on the lip of the pool. It was a wonder he hadn't gone farther and cracked his head open. He heard Sage shout in surprise as his ass slid on the wet, laminated lip of the pool and he was dumped in like a lifeless body.

His nostrils stung, and through the water, he still had a strange moment to appreciate the black, trimmed pubic hair of Sage slowly approaching, and the clean-shaven delta of either Josie or Julie closing in on the right. He tried to right himself, but hands cut through the water to grab his. When he came up, he was gasping and surrounded by bare, beautiful girls. It was Julie who had come to help Sage pull him up; Joe hadn't gotten much of an impression of her yet. She seemed genuinely concerned, no more smiles.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, my ass just hurts."

He couldn't help but be distracted by the perkiness of Julie's tits. They pointed upwards, to hell with gravity, and her areolas were just as large and bumpy as her sister's, but where Josie's looked... heavy, for lack of a better word, Julie's were air balloons.

Julie hadn’t let go of him, and Sage ran her palm up his arm and placed her other hand on his back. Her hip was pressing against his.

"Do you need to rest?" she asked, walking him towards the shallow end.

"No, no, I'm okay. Boy, that was embarrassing, wasn't it?"

"Don't beat yourself up, unless you were really trying to impress us?"

Josie paddled by, her rump still risen out of the water and dotted with droplets. There was a strange, comedic timing to it. Sage was still holding him and Margaux was wading over now, her hands playing along the surface of the water, where below, her dark bush rippled.

"You okay?" she asked him, too. She seemed poised to grab his other arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess. I should swim it off."

"Take it easy a sec," Sage insisted, and he found himself moving along with her. Margaux took up his other side but did not hold up his arm, rather, just being there to make sure he was okay. And the three of them rose out of the water. His nudity had almost been forgotten but was now sensed in full again in the cool air. Sage let go of his hand finally to rush forward and clear space on the lounger.

"Here," she said. "Take a breather."

He moved past Margaux and turned to plant his butt down on the plastic seat, gazing up at her slowly, from her thighs, and her triangle of curls, to her twin pink points, and her warm face. Then he swung his legs up and Sage was kneeling at his side.

"Just take it easy, it probably isn't safe to swim right after that."

"This hurts my ass."

Sage laughed. "It'd hurt even if you're swimming. It'll go away."

She placed her hand on his stomach. That his half-limp penis was only an inch from her wrist was a torturous excitement. Margaux, meanwhile, smiled and then walked back to the pool, disinterested, apparently, or else letting Sage have her moment. Joe watched her go, watched the rhythmic sway of her legs and hips and the hypnotizing heart shape of her ass. Sage rubbed Joe's belly like one would with a dog, and a leg did kick, but it wasn't either of his main two.

Joe eyed the gate nervously as Sage began to run her hand up and down his abdomen, as if relishing his body. He wasn't that fit, but there was some tone there, on which he could feel her palm press and her fingers trace. He let out a breath.

"Look at you," she said, and she did look at him. They met eyes. Hers were dark and deep. And then the tip of his penis bumped her elbow.

Those dark eyes turned to his lap with mad delight, and her smile grew.

"Oooh," look at that," she said. "You're a little excited."

Gee, haven't you been paying attention all this time? Joe cynically thought.

"That's normal, though," she added. "Who wouldn't be?"

Josie came up the shallow end steps directly in front of them in a hurry, like someone had just announced there was ice cream.

"Ooh, are we pampering him?"

"We're pampering him," Sage confirmed, rubbing her palm down Joe’s abdomen again until the meat of her hand bumped against the base of his erection. It was waving like a flag when Josie took a knee on the other side of the lounger and beheld it.

"Well, since you let us in, you deserve a little bit of pampering," Josie said. Joe's breath came out in a shudder. Was this really happening? Five minutes ago, he would have figured that this situation would have been nothing but fantasy. But then again, twenty minutes ago, the idea of four girls entering and getting naked was also a fantasy. Now, he had a very-fantastical-scene before him of the fire-red sky above, and the grinning face of Josie in front of him, lowering until she was looking at his cock from the side, as if to admire the height it had climbed to, and Sage's head was nestled on his shoulder, her arm down his stomach, her fingers turning towards his erection like the slow, deliberate movements of a hunting spider, and beyond his dick, he could see Julie backpedaling through the water, her full front on display, and Margaux standing at the deep end, turning to look at them from afar. Joe suddenly wanted her next to him more than anything, but with two beautiful girls descending on his cock, could he complain? Then Sage's hand closed around him.

"Nice and firm," she said, and she gripped him tightly, wringing her hand up to his head and letting it pop into her palm and elicitating a gasp from Joe, and then she came back down, pulling his foreskin back. She pointed his pink head at Josie's face, and Josie was more than pleased to lean in close and plant a kiss from her pink lips on his red, twitching head.

"Guh," he managed.

"Mm-hmm," Josie cooed, her breath cold on his urethra, and her lips came in again, pursed in a kiss, and Sage let go of him with a wobble. Josie's lips descended down his trunk, kissing it at each half-inch interval until her lips were pressing against his pubic hairs, and then she went back up, his dick wobbling, her mouth kissing until she reached the top again, and she lashed out her tongue. Then Sage brought her face over and descended, mirroring Josie and lashing at Joe's head with her devious tongue from her devious smile, and framed behind his pleasured, pampered cock was Margaux, slowly wading over. It was an image of Heaven.

She got closer as the girls’ two tongues flicked and flicked Joe's head, which already had a dribble of clear precum rolling out, and he begged for release to be delayed long enough so that Margaux could be there. Soon she was completely out of the water, and she slowly walked over and observed the pleasure going on. She got to her knees, but she sat back. She just watched. Her face had an expression of interest, and Joe's face was strained with yearning for her to come finish him. But then Julie, the only odd one out, appeared by her side, having followed Margaux out of the pool, and she happily got to her knees at the foot of the lounger and brought her face close, watching her friends lick and thrash Joe's poor, pleading penis. Then she reached out her hand.

The tongues retreated, and Julie lightly took Joe into her grip and gently jacked him. It was a relief and a torment. It kept him from bursting but did not let him rest, and her face transformed to glee as she felt him wriggle in her loose fingers.

"Bet you thought this only happens in the pornos," Sage said, turning her eyes to him. Joe could only grunt as his cock was gently manipulated and the smile on Julie's face widened until she couldn't resist and came down to take his entirety into her mouth. There was no teasing; he met the back of her throat and it was an amazing feeling. He had never thought deep-throating would feel so good. She brought his cock out of her mouth with a cough and a giggle, and he was sure he was going to lose it right then, but he pleaded, he prayed to God, please let Margaux touch me, and then, thankfully—oh, thank God!—she moved.

She didn't nudge closer; she stood. She moved over to where Julie was positioned and Julie got out of her way, and then, with one big swing of her smooth, tan leg, she straddled the lounger and sat on Joe's legs. He panted as she inched her full bush towards him, and arching her back, she canted her hips to reveal her loose lips, and gently brought her hand down to scoop up his cock and press it against her.

Oh, hell yes, Joe thought. He had not expected this. Though strangely, he wanted her actual lips on him; the lips of her mouth. He wanted the intimacy of that smile on his cock. But there was nothing quite as intimate as this, as she traced the back of his cock up and down, pleasuring both he and her, and smiling down warmly at him. Joe grunted and groaned, and Margaux kept repeating the motion, and he felt the folds of her labia slide along his trunk, and the soft, wet hairs brushing the underside of his crown, and her hand firmly guiding him, her fingers strong, and he lost it. He came like a rocket, all the way up to his chin, and in a flash, the other three girls’ faces rushed in to accept the second, fourth, fifth, and ad-infinitum shots of cum, gracing their lips and cheeks, their faces almost buried in their friend's crotch, and Joe let out a yelp—"oh God!"—as the three tongues and one pussy refused to let go of him, working him into the last excruciating moments of pleasure.

"Shh," Sage said, with a pool of ivory on the cleft below her nose. "You'll draw attention." His semen stretched  between her lips as she talked, and the last, weak shot doubled over and landed on her knuckle. Then Margaux abruptly got off of him and changed positions so she was leaning down upon him, and finally, exactly how he wanted, she wrapped her mouth around his cock to suck it clean in his last half-second of excruciating bliss. He cried out again and her lips audibly smacked on his head, and then someone called out: "Is everything alright?"

Joe’s heart seized; all the girls had faces of panic above his dick, and their and Joe's eyes turned to the gate, where they could see somebody's feet below the towel that hung there.

"Y-yeah, yeah," Joe managed, his voice strained from pleasure. "I just stubbed my goddamn toe."

"Oh, alright. Is the pool closed?" the man's voice asked.

"Yeah, closed for the day." He didn't even know what time it was or how close he was to actually closing. It was almost dark; why was somebody trying to come to the pool now? "For maintenance."

"Well alright," the man's voice said. Joe could see that he was wearing socks and sandals, no doubt one of the retirees that lived in the community. The feet turned and he could hear them crunching on the gravel, and eventually, a car door slammed. The girls all relaxed, and hands went to his dick, slick with his cum and losing its hardness, and Josie playfully put it in her mouth and Joe bit back another moan. How had he not heard the car approaching? As he let his moan out, he realized why.

"Well, that was fun," Josie said as she popped his dick out of her mouth and the other girls reached in to milk him until he was empty. "Now you can swim that off!"

Margaux was rising to her feet, turning so her ass loomed above Joe like an idol. He would have no issue kneeling in front of it and worshiping it every day. Slowly, she approached the shallow end and stepped in, and that picturesque, perfect ass slipped under the water. Josie, Julie, and Sage all stood too, all beautiful and bare, breasts hovering above him. Joe wished he could go for round two. Instead, he stared up at the burning sky as the girl's faces left his sight, and he heard the splashes of them entering the water.

Suddenly it was dark. He blinked his eyes open. It was still dark. Shit. He sat up.

The pool was empty. The lights hadn't been turned on. And there was no sign of the girls. Though it was dark, they were not in the water as far as he could tell, and he scanned his eyes over the patio, which was lit enough by a distant lamplight from out in the parking lot and by the lights of the main building. The gate was still closed, and the towel was still draped over it, but there were no girls, clothed or otherwise.

Ghosts... Joe thought. Or he had been dreaming. He was still naked, and his loins still hurt. If it had been a dream, it had been a good one. He felt his pubic hair, and it was crusty from dried cum. He'd never came in his sleep before. He was also pained with the need to pee. As he swung his legs over, there was a clinking sound below, and he looked down to see his keys. They must have fallen off of his lap.

Cautiously, he picked the keys up, shook his head clear, and stood. He was naked and alone in the middle of his workplace. He walked over to the gate, knowing he was safe from being seen, under no more risk than he usually was. Less now, because it was dark. And when he got to the gate, he saw that it was still locked. Shaking his head in disbelief, he crossed back to the building, passing the chair where—supposedly—he had been pleasured by four naked girls. His clothes were still hanging off of the backrest. None of the girls’ items were there.

When he got to the porch steps, the clipboard was still sitting in the crook of the railing, and he plucked it up. If none of the girl's names were there, he would certainly have lost his shit, but there they were, in order: Josie Kendrick, Julie Kendrick, Sage Lee, and Margaux Hess. And below all their names was a note, matching the handwriting of Josie's name: "We let ourselves out, thanks for the swim!"

It almost felt like there was a hole in Joe's heart. So they were real. More than anything, he wished that there had been some sort of communication from Margaux, a happy message, or a phone number. Joe didn't believe in love at first sight, and had never really experienced true "love," but that day, he went from being in instant love to seeing his love naked, to having her ride her pussy against him. What a day for firsts.

Straining against his need to urinate, Joe stumbled up the porch steps and walked around to the door without putting on his clothes. He stepped into the humid interior again with the strange feeling of being inside there naked. The clock on the wall read ten-fifteen, a full hour and ten minutes after closing time. I’m gonna catch hell for this. He walked all the way back, past the game room, to the bathrooms located back there, and relieved himself with some difficulty through his still-stiff dick.

He closed up the building like usual, only with the absence of clothes. He cleaned up the cum, at least. He looked everywhere for some note from Margaux. Perhaps she had left something by the time clock or the coffee pot, but there was nothing. Sighing, Joe shut off the lights and closed the door. He had to go to his chair to retrieve his keys and return to the door to lock it. He was glad he had done all the other closing work before he went for his swim. Who would have thought that he would have been pleasured by four women and passed out? Exhausted, still reeling, still doubting this all was real, he went to his chair and picked up his clothes, and regretfully put them on. He had been naked for three hours, and he had gotten quite used to it. He supposed he could walk right out of there naked, all the way through the campground trail to his car. It was dark; he probably wouldn't be seen. But he did not have an exhibitionist streak in him, and he didn't see the point of it. As he pulled on his shorts, he had to wonder if Margaux and the others had left the pool dressed, or naked.

He was still thinking of them (naturally) when he got to his car, and he half-expected them to be waiting for him there, for they had said that they had walked over from that area. But the campground was dead, save for the lights from a camper far on the other end. Where had they said they were staying? Joe thought. An Airbnb. One of the hundreds of cabins in the community. They could be anywhere. Maybe he would see them again, he thought. Maybe he would see Margaux. He sighed, got in his car, and drove home.

*****

Before he went into work the next afternoon, he already got a call from his boss, Pat, a tough fifty-year-old woman with short grey hair and a fun-loving attitude. She was a pretty chill boss, but seeing her name on his phone so early in the day struck Joe with a jolt of fear. Someone had ratted. The guy with the socks and sandals. Shit.

"What's up, Pat?"

"Just making sure you're plenty rested. I guess you'll be getting some overtime pay."

"Oh, y-yeah, sorry I didn't let you know, I, uh—"

"It's all good. I saw you were staying late on the camera."

C-camera? Joe gulped, but Pat did not press the issue further. Joe spent much time wrestling over whether he would ever get naked and take a skinny dip in the evenings again, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided that he would, the next slow day at the pool...

On the Road with Yumi

She shone orange under the sun and erased all doubt that she was completely naked. She was leaning against the railing at the top of the steps leading to her penthouse, her hand gracing her chin, her hair black and straight and her lips pursed in amusement as the convertible pulled up.

Jason was blown away. It was uncharacteristic of him. Typically, it would be Murray who was amazed by simple skin, but Murray turned around in the front seat and smirked at Jason the way Jason used to smirk at him in college when pretty girls walked by. Becky, in the driver's seat, seemed a little more taken aback. She didn't turn around, but Jason could imagine the surprise on her face at the unexpected nakedness standing up there on the penthouse landing. Murray was the first to get out, then Becky. Jason sat for a moment and drank the scene in, as Yumi—the girl they were coming to pick up—stood away from the railing, and in brief flashes through the slats, her exclusive parts were now revealed. A repeated flash of her black, rectangular pubic hair as if seen through a flipbook as she walked along the railing, the heft of her chest passing by above the rail, her areolas crowded by the fatness of her nipples, erect either from the breeze or the attention. She hopped down the stairs to greet them.

They were picking up Yumi to head to LA for an OnlyFans girl convention. It was Murray's idea. He was doing graphics for Yumi's social media, and Jason teased him for being a simp and decided to go along with Murray on this trip. He had no clients at the moment as a bodyguard and decided to spend a little R&R time on this interesting journey. It was a trip of only a couple days, and all his wardrobe was neatly folded in a half-size suitcase in the trunk. He had expected to dress nice once at the convention.

His series of surprises started first with the introduction to Becky, Murray's co-worker and girlfriend. She was blushing, adorably bashful, and seemingly modest, a girl-next-door type with long, straight dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes, and Jason had to admit he was impressed with Murray for landing such a catch. He had not known that he had a girlfriend or had even grown the balls to talk to a girl for longer than two seconds, but he didn't know the details of their relationship and he had misgivings about the pairing. Why was Becky okay with him being involved with this model?

The model in question had now stepped off the bottom step and was walking before them completely nude, her shape a sinuous collection of subtle curves, her pubic hair now completely unobstructed and dense and dark. Jason got out of the car so he could see more.

"Gee, I thought you'd be a bit more dressed," Murray said as Yumi came to a shameless stop in front of them.

"It's all good," she said. "It's not like you haven't seen it. I was with a—I was with someone, and well, I guess I just didn't feel like getting dressed. It's hot, afterall."

That she is, Jason thought, taking his eyes on a blissful trip down her profile and imagining his lips on her taut and tan skin, and her crisp pubic hairs.

"That it is," Murray echoed more innocently, because it was hot. It must have been almost one hundred and twenty degrees. Sweating in his black t-shirt, Jason had to wonder if Yumi didn’t have the right idea. She certainly wasn’t in any hurry to get dressed. That aspect about her made her even more captivating to Jason more than just her unexpected nudity.

They loaded Yumi's stuff in the back of Becky's convertible. Though she was naked, she did have a small suitcase and a canvas bag which she took her keys from to go lock up the penthouse, and walked, still naked, back to the car.

"Aren't you going to put anything on?" Becky asked in disbelief.

"I'm more comfortable this way," Yumi stated plainly, and Jason was glad. So she got into the car, where she had already laid out a white towel on the leather seat, and settled in naked, right next to Jason. This was going to be a most excellent trip, he thought.

*****

Eventually she's going to have to put on clothes, he thought nervously as he side-eyed the car coming from the opposite direction and zipping past. They were on wide-open highway, and Yumi had turned and was kneeling on the seat, leaning out and letting the whipping air bathe her chest as she admired the long desert landscape. Jason, in turn, treated himself to an extended look at her rear end pointing up at him, rising slightly, a rapidly-passing shadow of a road sign scanning her golden domes. There was not a hint of a tanline on her. She obviously spent a lot of time naked. But soon they would be on a busy freeway with lots of other cars, and with the top down, Yumi would have to at least put a top on if they didn't want to get pulled over. Jason was about ready to bring this up, hating to be the one to ask a girl to put clothes on, when Becky cut in instead.

"We're gonna have to get gas before we hop on I-40. Might want to cover up soon."

Yumi's rump landed back in the seat, and she faced Jason in delectable side profile. Without looking at him, she bent her body down and Jason enjoyed the comma-curve of her waist, and she came back up unfurling a white tank top, which she slipped on. It slid over her breasts and then they were covered, though still teasingly accentuated. Then she leaned down again and came up with a bright orange cap, and twisted it on her head. It was sunny, afterall. It looked cute on her with the tank top, and that was the last thing she seemed resigned to put on, as she leaned back and splayed out her arms on the back of the seat somewhat masculinely, her thighs slightly spread and Jason's eyes not able to stare as directly now as he would have liked, but he did catch her smile slightly when she cast her eyes in his direction.

*****

They got off on an exit and entered civilization (a stretch of fast food joints and gas stations) and they pulled into a Speedway. The sheer amount of people and cars and general activity surrounding their open vehicle while Yumi sat innocent and bottomless made Jason tense, and Becky, too, seemed on edge as she quickly got out and tapped buttons at the pump.

Murray turned around in the front seat.

"I still can't believe you came along," he said, an earnest smile on his face. It would have been because Yumi was sitting next to him without any pants on, but from his angle, he could not see where she sat behind his seat.

"Just like old times," Jason said, thinking back to all the times at college when he had tried to get Murray to come out of his shell, with Yumi's naked bush in the corner of his eye, reminding him of what could have been (he had never succeeded in getting his roommate laid).

"I just don't know what you can expect at the party," Murray said.

"A lot of fun," Yumi's voice floated over, and she was smiling, her hands folded above her bush, fingers flexing.

"Oh yeah?" Jason asked her, allowing his eyes to glance down.

"Probably," she said. "You might see a little of everything, but they can be boring, too. It all depends on who's there and who's horniest."

Becky was standing by the gas tank to Jason's left and was looking over uncomfortably at Yumi and her bared bush and her vague tales of debauchery. She hurried up and when getting back into the car and asked if anybody wanted any snacks, clearly hoping nobody would say yes. "Not that we don't have enough stashed behind the seat," she added.

"Actually, could you grab me a Coke?" Murray asked, looking at Jason, because their small cooler and bag of snacks was resting in the little nook behind the seats.

"I'll get it," Yumi responded instead, and twisted her body around. Becky gasped and let her mouth fall open as Yumi turned with her rump facing out and rising, and Jason saw one lone man sitting in a car at the next pump look over and drop his jaw at the supine landscape of Yumi's bottom half. When she twisted back around with a sweating, red Coke can in her hand, she looked over at the man, and Jason could only imagine that she was smirking at him. Murray accepted the Coke with a shaking hand and Becky was already behind the wheel and starting the engine, and Jason had one last look at the man's shocked face before they pulled out.

*****

"So this event... it's kind of like a sex party?" Jason asked Yumi when they were back on the freeway.

"It can be. Last time I went to one, there was a great, big bukkake party."

Jason licked his lips.

"Gee, it kind of sounds like OnlyFans girls are... well, whores."

He could see both Becky and Murray turn their heads in response to his statement, but Yumi just smiled.

"Some can be. Most of them just suck dick on stream."

Jason swallowed.

"Is that the sort of stuff you do?"

"No, I just dance."

"Yumi's into dancing," Murray offered from the front passenger's seat. Jason nodded.

"Yes, I was trained from very young. So I just dance on camera, nude, and everybody loves it. I love being nude."

Again Jason nodded. He had no reason to discourage her.

"I'm hoping to get some photos on our way over, too" she explained. "I brought my camera."

"Yeah, we got a spot in mind," Murray replied.

"Oh," Jason said, unprepared for this but intrigued by the prospect of a glamorous photoshoot with Yumi, not that he hadn't seen his share of her already and currently. "I didn't know we'd be stopping along the way."

"We got plenty of time," Murray explained. "It'll be a scenic trip."

No kidding, Jason thought, glancing over at the spidery hairs centered between Yumi’s thighs.

And so they drove, and Yumi remained bottomless the whole way, much to Jason's delight, though his true desire was to reach over and touch her, which he was intuitive enough to realize he shouldn't do. They rode on and the group talked in spurts, but Jason had run out of things to talk about, his mind spinning with what was beside him and what was ahead of them.

A few truckers with a higher elevation honked as they passed their car, and Yumi looked up at them and waved casually, making their day. Just the exhibitionism of it made Jason hard. He couldn't believe that someone would be so shameless and willing to present themselves. And that Murray was a friend of hers, and even still maintained a relationship... It was all beyond Jason.

The way that Yumi so comfortably sat, the way that her legs moved and drew attention to the square plot of plumage and the peeks of labia beneath, and the way that she casually looked ahead as if none of that were a big deal, mystified Jason. He had never encountered in all his conquests a girl like this. He had always been the first to belittle e-whores online and make judging remarks about girls who decided to expose themselves for money or attention, but now, presented with one of those girls, his impression was much different. And they rode on, with Yumi's pussy in the corner of his eyes for hours.

She kept the bottom off even when they got to their stop. It was still burstingly daylight—they had left around eleven in the morning and it was now two o'clock—and their car settled at the end of a long drive that took them to a park. And, being in the middle of a weekday, there were no people there. Jason exited of the car, mesmerized by the sight of Yumi's bottomless bottom bounding forward, as Murray and Becky slowly got out.

Jason sort of shook his head at them, as if to say this crazy girl, and their smiles took him aback. Both of them had seemed nervous before, but now, perhaps because there was nobody around, they seemed to enjoy Yumi's shameless expression.

Yumi spun around in the middle of the grassy clearing with a vista of mountains behind her, and it was the most picturesque thing, and appropriately, Yumi said: "You got my camera?"

"Right here," Murray responded, taking the bag out of the trunk.

What proceeded was a bold and innocent photoshoot by the railing and the overlook view of the California mountains. Yumi stripped off her tank top and her breasts were released in two individual pops, and Jason had to look over his shoulder to see if anybody was coming, and because he self-appointed as a watchman in that gesture, Murray suggested that he be their guard, considering his day job. So reluctantly, he had to be absent from the rest of the fun, not that he hadn't had enough visual treats already. Nevertheless, he felt dejected. It was when the three came walking back towards the car, with Yumi still completely and unabashedly nude, that Jason got to rejoin them, and also wondered why he was even pulling guard duty when Yumi was so careless right there.

They loaded into the car again, and Yumi did not put a stitch on. Not even her tank top.

"Sure you wanna risk it?" Murray asked her, and Yumi just smiled. Jason did, too. He certainly wasn't going to complain.

"I'll slouch," Yumi said.

And they were coasting out of the rest area, headed back to the highway. The sun was high but starting its trip down to the west, and Jason gazed at the natural light splendoring Yumi's upward-facing breasts.

"You know, I never thought about being behind a camera, but I think I could get into this scene just fine."

"Oh yeah?" Yumi said, casting an eye and a smirk his way.

"Yeah. It looks fantastical." He didn't usually use such fancy words. He could sense Murray and Becky smirking in the front seats. "I'm not a photographer, but I wouldn't mind trying someday."

"Wanna try now?"

Jason couldn't contain his grin.

"Yeah."

Yumi smiled and folded her body again as she reached down and picked up the camera bag that now sat on the floor. Soon it was on her lap and she was unzipping it, taking out the expensive device. She dropped the bag back down to her feet and handed the heavy camera over to Jason.

"You probably aren't familiar with how to use it," she said.

"Just point and click right?" Jason said with a smile.

"Right," Yumi said with her own.

Adam fiddled with the buttons on the camera and was greeted with the last photo that Murray had taken, showing Yumi stretching her arms to the sky with her butt facing the camera and her front facing the mountains. It was a fantastic-looking thumbnail; he was surprised Murray had such a photographic gift. But then again, he was a creative person, and perhaps the camera itself lent to the perceived quality of the picture. Any fool with an expensive tool could be a photographer, he thought. And that included him. He flipped the top switch from view mode to shoot, and instantly saw Yumi curled up in the seat, with the growing dusk highlighting her body orange.

"Fantastical," he uttered again, and Yumi laughed. Her candid expression and her candid nudity was the first thing he captured.

To truly capture her, her who he desired, shrunk down on the camera's viewfinder... It brought a new meaning to the idea of possessing another. Jason snapped the shutter furiously, as furiously as he would have pumped his cock if he could press his body against hers, and he captured her playful mood as she pulled her feet up, captured the distinct dark pink of her nipples, and each individual bump surrounding them. He captured her distracted gaze as she looked up ahead at the freeway, captured her silky hair flowing around her calm face, and the cars whizzing past, capturing, too, some blurred and surprised faces which they would notice later when looking at the photos and laughing. He played with the lens, zooming out and zooming in. He zoomed in on her naked lap, on her bristly bush, and panted as he captured its aesthetics on the viewfinder. It made Jason want to throw down the camera and throw his face into her, but there was a better person inside him that knew this wasn’t the place for that. As his camera moved and focused, it represented what his lust yearned for, and Jason found a new appreciation for the art of photography, channeling his lusts into lustful images. Yumi laughed as he twisted the zoom and brought the camera almost directly into her lap, bringing out the detail of each twisting and curled hair. And when she changed positions and was now kneeling on the seat, raising her body up in a beautiful display, he pulled himself and the zoom back to capture her in full, and that's when the sirens blared.

"Shit," Becky hissed in the front seat. The red and blue lights were flashing from her reflective hair. The car slowed. Jason lowered his camera and felt the pit of dread in his stomach. Even Yumi slouched in her seat, her legs throwing back out from where she had knelt, and she looked like she was accepting defeat.

"We're fucked," Murray said. "Goddammit."

"It's cool," Jason assured them. His instincts were taking over. He gripped the camera in his lap and looked at Yumi, naked and mysterious and with a new expression on her face, and he thought of how he could control the situation.

They were on the shoulder now, and Jason decided to leave the camera out as he glanced back and saw the state trooper marching towards their car.

"I got this," Jason announced. Nobody else in the car seemed as confident.

The trooper's eyes widened as he stepped up to the side of the car and beheld the full extent of Yumi’s bareness.

"Well," he began with a cough. "I think you know why I pulled you over."

"I can explain, sir," Jason said, turning to the officer. "We are part of a modeling organization, and we are on our way to an event to promote ourselves. And, well, this is part of our promotion."

The trooper lifted his eyes to the sensuous shape of Yumi's body (for there was little she could do to not be sensuous) and he said "I see."

"In other words," Jason continued, hardly able to believe he was playing this card, "...we are authorized to be doing this."

"I see... the officer said again. His eyes passed from Yumi, who began to smile salaciously in her naked curled-up state, and then he looked Jason directly in the eyes.

"So technically you are on private property, in your car," the officer said. "The issue, though, is that you have the top down."

"I understand, officer," Jason said. "We did it to get good photos."

"I see... Well, I don't know what to do in this situation. Since you have approval, I can't argue with that. My only concern is the safety of the other people on the road."

"I understand, officer," Jason said. "Maybe we were going overboard a little."

"Tell you what, I'll let you go without even a warning. Just... keep your head down, okay Miss?"

He said that, looking at Yumi, and she returned his look with a smile and a sensuous movement of her arms across her bare skin.

"Alright, well you four have a nice evening," the trooper said, and he turned from their car and marched back to his. Jason, Yumi, Murray, and Becky were all left in a daze.

"I can't believe you got away with that," Murray said.

"Yeah, well, I impress even myself."

"How'd you do that?"

"You just gotta know what people with authority want to hear," Jason said.

"Impressive," Yumi responded, and she was grinning at Jason, her hands wrapped around her chest, but loosening to let her breasts be bare again. The trooper’s vehicle passed by and Becky put the car into gear.

"Yeah," she said. "Really impressive."

And they drove on. The sky got dark. Becky and Murray were silent for the most part. But Jason could not help but keep talking. He was incensed now. And Yumi, for her part, seemed more interested in him now.

"So how did you get involved with this?" Yumi asked him. "How did you get to know Murray?"

"We went to school together," Murray said from the front seat.

"Military school," Jason added. "We were in ROTC."

"Oh wow, really?"

"Yeah. Nothing big."

"I wasn't there by choice," Murray added, and Jason laughed.

"I was. Not that I was interested in joining the Army or anything."

"What are you interested in?" Yumi asked. "What do you do?"

"I'm a bodyguard," Jason said with a chuckle. "It's been a minute since I've had an assignment, though."

"A bodyguard?" Yumi asked and squirmed just a bit closer.

"Yeah. Nothing big. Okay, I've worked for a couple big names. I even worked for Miley Cyrus."

"Wow, get out. Nice."

"Yeah, particularly when she was in her 'naughty' phase. When she'd strip naked and stuff. You can imagine she'd need a lot of protection then."

"I bet. Sounds like I should hire you some time."

"You really need a bodyguard?"

"Well, no, but then again... maybe yes."

Jason laughed again. He felt himself slouching in the seat, becoming as comfortable as the naked girl next to him, the naked girl whom he still wanted to possess. Or protect. She was still a mystery to him. As was the relationship between Becky and his friend. There was a lot that seemed lost to him. Like how could Becky be okay with Murray hanging out with a nude model, and going to what sounded like a sex party with her? It was a world he was not familiar with. He had always grown up thinking of sex as something personal, not something to wear on one's sleeve, never mind that he had had plenty of gloating in his college days, and plenty of no-strings sex with sex workers in his working days. But that was different.

He had a different photoshoot in mind, suddenly, as the light was fading. A POV blowjob on the road. Him pointing the camera down at his lap while Yumi treated his dick to a night of pleasure. It didn't seem out of the realm of possibility, and he shifted in his seat at the fantasy.

"...You thinking about it?" Yumi asked next to him, and his distracted mind came back to the delectable present, with the naked girl next to him in the fading light. Passing streetlamps made hypnotic pulses on her now-pale skin.

"You said you don’t on stream, but do you ever do lewd photoshoots?" he asked abruptly. Yumi's eyelashes fluttered and he could see Murray and Becky slightly turn their heads.

"What do you mean by lewd? Some people would say what I do is lewd already."

"I mean like... the stuff that's going to be done at the party."

Now Yumi laughed. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. Jason's pants tightened.

"Some do. I haven't. But I'm not against it."

A little exclamation mark went up in Jason's head.

"It would probably get a lot of hits," Yumi concluded.

No kidding, Jason thought, an echo of a distant thought. He would definitely tune in if he were one of her followers and she suddenly began taking dick. The thought and promise of it made him massage his crotch, and Yumi noticed.

"I'm not saying I'd do it right now," Yumi said. "Besides, it's dark."

Becky's head jerked to glance to the back seat.

"Oh there is no bodily fluids going to be splashing in my car," she said.

"Sorry," Jason sheepishly replied, looking at Yumi. "It was just an idea."

"A fine idea," Yumi said, and Jason felt vindicated. He kept imagining the scene, his cock having the same pulsings of light from passing streetlamps as Yumi's skin did, as he pulsed out onto her face.

But they rode on. It became completely dark, and Yumi had the security of darkness to keep enjoying the ride completely nude, despite their earlier scare. Soon the skyline of LA was on the horizon. Jason couldn't help but think this was the ritziest road trip he'd ever taken, as he glanced at the intermittently-illuminated breasts of his seatmate.

Soon they were navigating city streets, and Yumi finally bent down again and produced a thin silk shawl. She side-eyed Jason as she draped it around her shoulders. "Gotta put something on," she said. "And this is as good as being naked."

The neon lights and liveliness of the city illuminated Yumi's skin from underneath her cloak, like she was their respected passenger, a god riding in their chariot. And then they were rolling down a hilly road with the halo of city lights hanging above them.

"So where are we going?" Jason asked. "Aren't we going to a hotel?"

"No, we're going to my place," Yumi explained.

"I thought we picked you up at your place?"

"No, that's just my weekend place. My parents own it."

Jason nodded once again. He understood now Yumi's position: rich parents. And money overflowing from her OnlyFans gig. She was a woman of boundless money. He looked forward to seeing what her pad was like.

It was overwhelming. A three-story mansion in the middle of Malibu. He took back the negative things he'd thought about OnlyFans girls.

Yumi got out of the car in the wash of the automatic porch lights, her semi-transparent shawl glowed around her body.

"Let's get in and get comfortable," she said. "You can all grab a shower before we head out."

"Head out?" Jason asked, as his friends got out of the car. "Are we going to the convention right away?"

"We're gonna hang out at a bar next to the convention center. We'll be meeting some people there."

Again, Jason nodded.

The house was expansive. Jason felt like he would get lost in it if he happened to be away from Yumi's side, who walked them through with the beguiling semi-transparent robe shifting around her features while Jason hoisted his bag on his shoulder and tried to not lose sight of this vision.

"There’s a shower down here, and upstairs, knock yourselves out," Yumi said, leading them into a kitchen "And we have some drinks."

Twenty minutes later, Jason was upstairs, showering in the master bathroom and imagining Yumi naked. He resisted the urge to pleasure himself in another person’s shower.

When he exited, Jason stepped with a towel tied around his waist into the master bedroom where he had laid out the getup he was going to wear to the bar and was startled by the unexpected appearance of Yumi standing there. He almost thought it was an intruder because he didn't recognize her at first with clothes. She was turning from a dresser, wearing a black tank top and jeans. She seemed only marginally surprised.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't expect anyone to be in here."

"It's my bedroom," Yumi said flatly, almost like she was accusing him of intruding, which was silly, and Jason relished the irony that he was now the one naked and she clothed. Well, almost naked. Studying her demeanor, he slowly reached for the knot holding the towel around his waist. Yumi's eyes lowered and her expression did not change. Jason smiled and pulled the knot loose. The towel flapped open dramatically before it fell, and Jason saw the subtle change in Yumi's face when she beheld his male pride.

She stepped forward and Jason's smile widened. He had made the right choice. His lengthy cock, never something he was ashamed of, now nudged upwards as if it was trying to impress Yumi.

She reached him and her hand wrapped around him firmly.

"I'm already clean," she said, her sweet breath traveling from her pursed lips to his. "We don't have time for this."

"Oh baby," he panted. She twisted her palm on his dick and he leaned in to kiss her.

A finger met his lips instead of hers. Jason blinked in surprise and obediently let her push him away. Too strong. What was it with women?

But her hand moved to his chest and she shoved him back. His legs stopped at the edge of her bed and his torso kept moving, and the next thing he knew, he was lying on top of his clothes and craning his neck to see Yumi stripping off her blue jeans, her squared, black bush revealed again, her thighs orange again in the interior light. Then she climbed onto the bed, walking on her knees until she was straddling him. He stared at her bush, the landmark of his destination, and he raised his hands to cradle her hips. Raising his eyes up, he found that her black tank top complimented her bottomless visage perfectly, black and black, and rising to meet her eyes he saw that she was finally fully smiling.

"Just a quickie," Yumi said, and she scuttled up to Jason's now-swaying cock, gracing it with her hand and pressing it against her just to tease, and then she lifted her hips and guided him in. Jason leaned his head back but looked forward again as Yumi did all the work. His hand raised up her torso to feel her tits through her tank top, which she left on. Even in their coupling, it was ironic that she was still half-clothed, when his introduction to her had been seeing her fully naked. But, he remembered, half the trip was spent with her bottomless. It was fate. He bucked his hips against her and relished his fate. He sluiced through her like a knife through butter, feeling every electric spark of the nerves from his head all the way down his trunk and to his balls, and Yumi did not stop. The cotton of her tank top was abrasive against his fingers and he wanted to feel her flesh, but he could not disturb her going-out outfit. Instead he enjoyed what he had. Yumi certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Her head leaned back and her hair brushed her shoulders as she contained a moan, and just the sight of her expressing pleasure brought Jason close to the brink. Vindication of his lust for her was all he needed.

His hands fell to her hips again so he could feel her hot, smooth skin, and she moved those hips more vigorously, riding him like a rodeo bull, and Jason did his part to thrust as deep as he could, seeking the end of the tunnel. And then he came like a rocket.

He bit back a scream. Yumi let out a moan. How much was heard when Jason sheepishly came downstairs later, he did not know, but he bit his lip and hovered in that bullet-time instant of pleasure, and then Yumi's hips stopped and ended the freeze-frame.

In the wash of his euphoria, Yumi climbed off of him and his tool was left swaying, slick with both her and him. She backed up off the bed and bent down to pick up her jeans.

"Anyway," she said. "We should get ready."

Jason lay there in a daze as Yumi walked, carrying her jeans, and he saw one rhythmic second of her ass in motion before she slipped into the bathroom and he heard the sink running for a second. Then a minute of silence passed and she came out wearing the jeans, crossing to the other side of the bedroom.

"See you downstairs," she said.

When Jason came down minutes later, he felt emasculated, like a kid who had gotten in trouble at school, though nobody said anything. Becky and Murray had flat expressions on their faces, but Jason may have been imagining things. Yumi, however, was smiling.

"Alright, ready to head out?" Murray asked, all business.

"Yeah, so where are we going again? And does the convention start tonight?"

"It’s a really nice bar nextdoor," Yumi said. "We'll be meeting my boyfriend there."

Jason caught his exclamation before he could spit it out, but the look on his face he could not hide. Boyfriend?

His demeanor had now morphed to join Murray and Becky's perceived mood, and his transformation was definitely noticed by them. They all headed out of Yumi's house and hit the road once again.

*****

The bar was on the bottom floor of a tall office building, right in the heart of downtown. They got out of the car at a valet station and Jason felt dressed just right: A pair of nice jeans, a black shirt, and a sports coat, but his companions were much more casual, Yumi in her black tank top, Becky and Murray dressed office-casual, the former at least with a presentable cream-colored blouse but Murray wearing a t-shirt. The plate-glass window in front of them revealed the busy bar inside with the glittering of the city's reflected lights overlaid on top of everything. Then they entered.

They followed Yumi as she led them to the square bar that was centered in the dining area, with bow-tie-wearing bartenders crossing back and forth to attend to all the people seated there. It was crowded. It didn't look like there would be any room to sit, but Yumi stopped at a meek-looking man with several free seats around him. He reminded Jason of Murray, though he had long, moppy hair. It was the way that he hunched his shoulders and seemed younger than he probably actually was. He turned on his stool to face Yumi and they hugged.

"This is Kyle," she introduced him as. "Kyle" offered a casual, half-hearted wave and a face that was as unchanging and indecipherable as Yumi's.

"Pleased to meet ya," he said flatly.

Jason ended up seated next to Kyle, with Becky on his other side, and then Murray and Yumi strangely on the end. The bartender came around and took their drink orders, and since Jason was hungry, he looked at the menu. Everything was over twenty dollars, but he was starving. His attention, however, was divided between the menu and his new compatriot on his left.

"So you're going to this convention, too?" Jason asked the guy named Kyle, the guy who was apparently Yumi's boyfriend.

"Yeah," Kyle said, brushing his stringy hair out of his face.

"And you're okay with... well?"

He eyed in the direction of Yumi, and he could see Kyle's expression soften.

"Yeah, sure, it is what it is. It's a big celebration, I like seeing all the fans."

"So you're okay with your girlfriend being an OnlyFans girl?"

"Yeah, sure, why not? It shouldn't bother me."

Jason could see the amusement on this guy's face at his own incredulous look.

"Look at it this way," Kyle explained. "Her fans get to lust after her, but I'm the one that gets to be her boyfriend."

Yeah, Jason thought. That did sound okay. Not that he himself would be okay with such an arrangement, and also, considering what he knew...

He bit his lip to avoid ratting Yumi out, but Kyle noticed his hesitation. Jason didn't feel right hiding what had happened, even though it had been a great but brief lay for him. He didn't like seeing guys getting taken advantage of.

"Well... I hate to break it like this, but—" He lowered his voice. "But Yumi... your girlfriend... she slept with me right before we came here. I didn't know she was seeing someone."

Kyle just shrugged.

"Okay," he said. "Great."

Jason blinked in surprise. His drink had been sat down in front of him and was getting diluted from the melting ice, but he had not noticed.

"You mean... you're fine with that?"

"Yeah. It's whatever. Me and Yumi are... in an open relationship. She can do whatever she wants. And so can I."

Jason slouched in his stool and finally noticed the drink in front of him. He took it and took a sip, contemplating the situation. It was all alien to him. He didn't think he would ever be able to be in a relationship like that, and he had a strange sense of concern for this guy, the same type of concern he had for Murray.

But this guy seemed perfectly cool with it. Jason could do nothing but shrug and sip his drink. It was strong. It felt like it would fuel his bravery this night, when they migrated over to the convention.

"I guess it's weird for some," Kyle continued. "But we're not normal people."

Jason couldn't disagree with that, and he raised his glass and drank, thinking ahead to what the night would have in store for him. When they paid their tabs and exited the bar, they walked across the street amidst glittering lights to the convention center that held all the degenerate activities that Jason had been told about. Murray was at his side, and Becky along with them, and to Jason's right was Yumi, walking confidently and looking fabulous in her black tank top in the night, and her boyfriend was to her right, and they all walked in a row like that across the crosswalk, while Jason re-aligned the way he thought about sex and relationships...

Bikini Minus One

Famous photographer Mario Luci leaned back on his pool lounger, a margarita in his hand, a pitcher for refills sitting on the stool between him and his compatriot Pablo Estrada, and a topless woman was on his thigh. He looked up at her, truly at her, and not just her bared tits, though they were nice, dripping because she had just exited the pool, and painted delicately by all the varied lights, the blue from the water, the green and orange from the tiki bar nearby, the far glittering of the hotel lights from behind them, all made an impressionistic work over the full, round handiwork of God, and made her nipples darker. He didn't need to stare, though, because topless women were running around everywhere.

"So you're going back to LA?" the girl asked him.

"Yes," Mario said. "To do a shoot at a place just like this, but fully nude, of course!"

"Wow, that sounds amazing," she said, scooting up just a bit more on his thigh, putting one of her multi-colored breasts near his face. "I don't know if I could do that, though." Her hips wriggled on his leg and her mound was teased underneath her red, unpadded bikini bottom.

"To be topless is one thing, but to be fully naked, that is quite another," Mario said.

"Vivo!" Pablo shouted next to him, watching a model pull herself out of the water, waterfalls coming down her breasts as she rose, stood to full height, and then turned, showing off what could be legally displayed of her butt, two shapely cheeks vandalized by the neon-green stripe of a thong. "Oh, how I wish to see her in full!"

Mario jutted a thumb in his friend's direction.

"Pablo here specifically specializes in the lower half."

"Oh really?" the topless girl on his lap said, shifting a little and making her breasts sway slightly and salaciously.

"They call me Pablo 'Asscobar,'" his friend cut in, looking over at the pair. "It is my life's mission... to present the beauty of the ass to the world![1] But here, at an event like this..." He waved his hand at all the topless women frolicking around. "...I can't really get a full impression."

The event they were at was a networking event, set up by a promoter who was friends with the hotel managers. It was to hire prospective models. "It has the unfortunate feel of a meat market," Mario had said. "But it sure is fun."

Fun, but with a limited capacity. Because it was at a hotel pool, there could be no full nudity. Since toplessness was more or less accepted, though, the promoter had the idea to name the event "Bikini Minus One," with the message being that it's a bikini party, but participants could choose to remove one piece, the obvious implication being that they would take their tops off, but they couldn't advertise it as a topless party, so Bikini Minus One it was.

The pool area was packed; it was shoulder-to-naked shoulder both in the pool and the patio, and half of the participants were prospective or current models, all enjoying a little upper freedom, and besides Pablo and Mario, there were only half a dozen other photographers and agents, all having a good time, and there were younger guys, lucky winners that got to attend the event thanks to their favorite models' social media contests. They were inundated with joy at all the pretty women and bared breasts.

"Can't you tell if she has a nice ass even with a thong?" the girl asked over at Pablo.

"An idea, yes. The layman might bite his knuckle or whatever one might do, but for an auteur... the thong is a distraction. It hides the complete picture."

"I agree," Mario added. "Don't take it as  a lecture," he said, looking at his seatmate, "but clothes are a perversion."

The girl laughed.

"A perversion?"

"Oh yes. That is why I only photograph nude subjects. You might think, 'well isn't he perverted—" He jutted his thumb at Pablo again. "—for wanting to see that one last strip of cloth be peeled away? Why does he need to see everything? Well I'll tell you, there is a natural beauty to the human body that is above mere sexual allure. It is in fact clothes that bring attention to certain parts of the body. The thong there brings attention to the butt. A high-cut shirt brings attention to the belly... but completely nude, everything is seen as a whole. One can be turned on by it, but it is because of the woman's whole beauty, not just because she has her pants off."

"Hmm, interesting theory," the girl said and rubbed Mario's arm. He did not react; he wasn't here to schmooze up models and get laid. He was here to hire models, and the girl on his leg was a likely future hire. She was very pretty, in a girl-next-door type of way, but she was not remarkable. That may have changed if she were completely nude, however. Just that one last removal of a piece of clothing transformed a person. But she was natural and comfortable to be topless.

"It is a core tenant of my... hah, I almost said 'faith.' Of my professionalism. There are people that call themselves nude photographers, but they photograph their models with bottoms on, or other pieces of clothing. That's not nude."

"Well, I feel plenty nude," the girl said and snuggled against Mario's pudgy frame. One of her nude breasts nested against his cheek, and Mario smiled and felt a warmth in his chest. He wasn't here to schmooze, but a little contact was nice.

"I hear you, girl," came another female voice to the far right. There a girl sat with another young man, her boyfriend (many prospective models brought their significant others along). She was dressed, more or less, in a bikini bottom and a white t-shirt under which there was clearly nothing. "I'm comfortable just like I am."

"That is important," Mario said, pointing a finger over at her. "A model's comfort is top priority. You should never do something you're fundamentally uncomfortable with, unless it is you yourself pushing those boundaries."

The girl smiled at him, perhaps not expecting that answer. Mario smiled back—or rather, his mustache lifted to show that he was smiling—and he remarked that she was quite alluring with her t-shirt teasing what was underneath with damp impressions, and under the hem, only a black g-string. It more or less proved Mario's point, for she was extra-alluring despite her intention to stay modest by keeping on a shirt, and she aroused him more than the topless girl nuzzling her soft breasts against his face.

"Yes, comfortable," Mario said, turning to speak into that very girl's breasts, surprised to be looking at them directly, then raising his eyes to smile at her. "You can't do a shoot if you don't—oh what is this?"

His eyes had went past his seatmate's breasts to the pool, where pushing through the crowd was a girl with a black bikini top. It complimented her jet-black hair, cut short in a messy, boyish style. Her lips were full and pouty and masked what true emotion she may have harbored, and her eyes were direct with everybody that passed her, and as people cleared out around her, Mario saw that a bikini top was the only thing she wore. A thin, black landing strip between her bare thighs complimented her black top and the hair on her head.

"Vivo!" Pablo shouted, leaning forward. "Oh, do turn around."

He was saying it to nobody in particular; the girl was too far away to hear. But she did turn, taking in her surroundings as everybody surrounding her took in her boldness, her risky decision to go bottomless, and Pablo was treated to a full view of her naked rear end, flaring out extremely wide past the hips, exquisitely shapely, and it caused Pablo to clap his hands and lean back in his lounger.

"Boy, someone's going to get in trouble for this," Mario said.

*****

Zoe walked confidently through the pool crowd, her nerves on fire. Being this exposed thrilled her and scared her at the same time. She should have been used to it; she had done plenty of racy things collabing with her friend Claire, who had begun being an OnlyFans model. But being exposed in front of a camera and being exposed in front of a crowd of people were two different things. She wanted to be at this party. She wanted to impress Pablo Estrada, the famous "Assman." Helping out her friend Claire had given her a taste of the warm feeling that pleasing a thousand horny fans provided. Maybe she could make a living out of this. Professionally, and not just sitting at home in front of a webcam. And Pablo Estrada, or "Pablo Asscobar," as people called him, would only be able to recognize the value of her ass if it was naked. And, with her twat exposed for everybody, she got the added thrill of disbelieving eyes and the knowledge that she was bottomless at a public hotel.

"Vivo!" she heard a boisterous voice yell, and she looked up on the grassy knoll leading up to the next portion of the patio and saw a portly man leaning forward and pumping his fists. It was Pablo Estrada. And next to him was a similarly portly man with a topless girl perched on his thigh, and they were all staring at her. Everybody was staring at her. It made Zoe twitch. She pushed forward and broke through the crowd to follow the sidewalk that led up to the next patio.

The eyes of everybody on that row were wide open and disbelieving as Zoe strutted past. It energized her. It made her believe that this night was going to secure her career as a model.

"Vivo! Excellent! Come here!" Pablo beckoned her, and Zoe walked past a couple, a handsome man and a pretty girl fully dressed—or, at least as fully dressed as decency would allow: a g-string and a t-shirt—and she felt their eyes on her landing strip as she approached the famous Pablo Estrada, Pablo Asscobar, with her heart fluttering.

He was almost falling out of his lounge chair. He managed to plant his feet on the pavement and beckoned Zoe over the way someone would beckon a kitten. Proudly, she approached.

"My goodness! I knew I had the right idea coming here! Turn around! Turn around, if you don't mind me asking!"

Zoe had no problem turning, and forced her grin back as she looked directly at the couple while Pablo studied her ass. They were both looking at her in shock.

"Fabulous, yes! I can work with this!"

Zoe was surprised to feel the cold touch of Pablo's fingers on the outer contours of her behind. She flinched.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have asked."

"That's okay," she said over her shoulder.

"I just can't help myself."

"Go ahead," Zoe said, wanting more of that touch.

"No, I am satiated. Partly. You may turn around."

Zoe turned, putting her thin landing strip and tight pussy in Estrada's face, but he didn't seem to care; he was gazing straight up at her.

"I do believe I want to work with you. As soon as possible!"

Zoe's grin spread. Mission accomplished. Was it really this easy? Guys would fuck a tree stump if that was all that was around.

"Great," she said, and Pablo put out both his hands, beckoning her to sit. She took them and his palms were warm and damp (funny that his fingertips were cold), and she settled her bare behind on the arm of his chair. Though her snatch was right below his face, he was looking up at her.

"That this chair can be blessed by that ass is the most special blessing that could have occurred in all the blessings of history, from Jesus making wine to me finding this path in life."

Zoe laughed and patted the man's shoulder. She wasn't trying to get in his pants, but she touched him nonetheless. He wasn't phased, but the other man, sitting with his own half-naked companion, was. His mouth hung open from his thick mustache like a trash chute door. The girl on his lap seemed jealous, and gently closed his mouth.

"So is bottomless more 'naked' than topless?" the girl asked the mustachioed man. His eyes darted up to hers, and Zoe watched with interest.

"Why yes. You yourself would rather be topless than bottomless, no?"

The girl squirmed on the man's thigh.

"Weeell... yeah."

"So there you have it."

"But what you said about the body needing to be appreciated as a whole..."

"Well," the mustache man continued, and Zoe had no idea what they were talking about. These model photographers sure were a weird bunch. Even Pablo, the man she came to see, was now staring up at the sky as if he was imagining his future. His future with me, she realized.

Zoe blinked. She realized that the mustache man had trailed off in his speech and was openly staring at her. She was flattered, but almost a bit weirded out, as much as weirded out as she felt with Pablo beside her seemingly going catatonic. Then a voice shouted from behind her.

"Hey!" the high, but male-owned voice admonished. "Bottoms on!"

She turned and rested her chin on her shoulder to look at the thin, short man who was shuffling up the patio.

"We're at a hotel, Jesus Christ"

"What?" Zoe asked and blinked at the man. "It's Bikini Minus One, right? You're supposed to take off what part you're comfortable with, and well, I wanted to take off the bottom."

"Vivo!" Pablo exclaimed to the sky. The small man narrowed his eyes at Zoe.

"Well you can't go sitting your butt—" he looked down to address the squish of her cheeks against the plastic armrest, but more the alluring bareness of her pubic mound and its guideline of fur leading down. "—completely naked on the furniture!"

"Sorry," Zoe said, and she slid her rear off the armrest and settled forcibly onto Pablo's lap.

"Vivo!"

The wiry man threw up his arms, grunted, and turned from the scene. He marched with angry purpose down to the concrete stairs that led to the bottom patio. Zoe already assumed she had not seen the last of him.

Pablo, meanwhile, was very pleased with his current situation. He was laughing, and reached for his margarita glass sitting on a side table next to a full pitcher.

"Say..." Zoe said. "Can I have some?"

"Why sure! Sure!" Pablo exclaimed. "As much as I hate to ask you to remove your behind from my lap, I will go get you a glass!"

Zoe lifted her naked rear off of the man's crotch and stood, feeling truly naked all of a sudden. Pablo scrambled out of his chair with all the grace of a toddler and stumbled over to the tiki bar at the far end of the patio, passing his mustachioed friend and the topless girl, who were both still staring at Zoe.

No, they were staring past her, she realized. Then she heard the voice of the girl who was sitting near the group.

"Well, might as well," the voice said.

"What the hell, babe?"

Zoe turned and smiled at what she saw: the girl, who had been wearing just a g-string and a t-shirt, was peeling down the former. She lifted her hips next to her boyfriend and stripped down the pesky garment, exposing a nice line of equally dark fur.

"I'm inspired," the girl said, and tossed her g-string in her boyfriend's face. It seemed Zoe was about to start a revolution.

*****

Carrie watched while she sat on the fat Italian's lap. She watched the modest girl to their right strip off her bottom like it was nothing, and in front of her, that short-haired girl who waltzed up without her bottom. Like it was nothing. It looked like she had just trimmed and waxed herself for this day. The nerve of the girl! In two seconds, she won Pablo Estrada over, while Carrie was doing her best to gain the interest of Mario Luci, pulsing below her. Pulsing, but not because of her. He was awash in the half-naked girl next to them.

"So is bottomless more 'naked' than topless?" she had asked Mario, and he plainly said "yes." He contradicted himself. He claimed that a woman's—well, a person's was how he worded it, but the focus here was obviously on women—beauty could only be appreciated as a whole, not by having specific parts highlighted. But here he was nearly falling out of his chair because a girl's pussy was exposed. Hypocrite. Well, Carrie thought, two can play at that game. She got up from Mario's lap, and he suddenly looked at her as if he was worried he’d offended her. Then his eyes widened as Carrie leaned forward and stripped down her bottom.

"Ah!" he then said. "So you agree?"

Carrie stepped out of her bottom and flung it into the grass behind her.

"No," she said. "I just wanted to get your attention."

"Magnifico!"

It was a strange, exhilarating feeling to stand there out in the open, nude. She had never thought she'd be able to do it in the privacy of a studio with a photographer, but here she was in front of a hundred people, but she knew she wasn't alone.

"Vivo!" Pablo's shout from behind made her jump, and he passed by holding two margarita glasses, one of which he raised to her as if in a toast, with a stupid grin.

"Wow," Mario said below her.

"Is that all it takes?"

"Yes, in a way. A person transforms when they are completely nude."

Wow, Carrie thought. That's kind of poetic. Maybe she had pegged this Mario Luci wrong. She had spent the entire night trying to turn him on, but all she needed to do was tune him in.

Pablo the Assman seemed just as tuned in to his girl of the night, handing her her margarita and collapsing back down in the chair to await her return to his lap. Or perhaps not, as he gazed up at her posterior while she faced away from him, perhaps hoping to freeze it there in time.

Carrie realized how naked and exposed she felt, standing there tall above Mario, and soon she noticed the commotion around her. She was standing completely naked in a whole gaggle of people.

"So much for Minus One," she heard somebody say, and she saw the flash of a camera reflect on the pavement in front of her. She smiled. So be it.

Another camera flashed and Carrie turned to look at the pool, where there were already fully nude girls crossing the water, and fully nude guys frog-stroking after them. A girl stood at the edge, her back bare and strapless, and the string holding together her bikini bottom was being pulled by her fingers until it came loose and the bottom fell away to reveal the delicateness of her cheeks.

Wow, Carrie thought. It's like a sickness...

*****

Mario couldn't believe it. The girl who had been sitting on his leg for the past half hour with her titties in his face had now finally impressed him. When she stripped down her bikini bottom: that was when she truly transformed. His previous statement wasn't just made up. Here, she really did transform. What was a distracting red nylon stripe at the bottom of his vision was now a smooth delta, and his eyes, like a camera lens, pulled back to appreciate her in full. No pubic hair... He would have liked that. Mario was old-fashioned and loved the aesthetic of dark black hair against tan skin, especially blonde girls like this one, who had bright, golden hair but were still dark below. When they undressed and finished with their bottoms, it was like a butterfly fully emerging from its cocoon.

That was focusing too much on one thing, though, Mario reminded himself, and the lack of pubic hair gave this woman, this golden goddess, an almost ethereal look, like she was a featureless angel come down from Heaven to bless the world. Only when she came back and sat did that illusion fade, as he could see she was a very real person, with female genitalia and the light smell of sweat, as everybody had in the humid Miami night air. She seemed hesitant to sit back on his leg because there was nothing between her taint and him (he was wearing loose slacks, though), but she gradually settled down. Mario didn't even want her to; he was still trying to catch that glow, and was already thinking about how to re-create it on film.

"So how did I transform?" the now fully-naked girl asked. Mario could already feel himself constricting down below just with her presence.

"Think of it this way," he said. "Before, you were just some girl at a party taking her top off. But now you are a god."

The girl made a confused smile and squinted her eyes.

"I don't understand."

"It's hard to explain," he said. "It is like, if you have some piece of usual clothing on, like socks or something, it breaks the illusion."

"The illusion?" she asked. Her legs cut across his lap. His pants swelled and touched the bottom of her knee.

"Yes, the illusion of something higher. It is normal for people to be half-naked, right? Men take off their shirts to swim, girls wear... sometimes wear full swimsuits, or sometimes find it acceptable to take off their tops. But nothing more. Nothing more than that.

"We are not used to seeing people with absolutely nothing on, though, so when you do, it is like... some would say it makes them animals, but an animal with the same intelligence and mannerisms of a human. So rather than an animal, you seem like an angelic being that has no need for clothes."

"Wow, that's a roundabout way to use the 'you're an angel' pickup line."

"It's not a pickup line," Mario said. "It's what I believe. Jewelry! Adding jewelry is okay. It adds to the idea of divine royalty."

"What about what you said? Clothes are a perversion?"

"Well..." Mario followed the young woman's eyes and next to them, Pablo and the short-haired, bottomless girl were squeezed side-by-side in his lounger, sitting more like friends than a woman seducing a man, as Pablo talked rapidly and motioned with his hands. The girl still had her black bikini top on. Though it was difficult to see the way she was seated, Mario caught just a glimpse of her black landing strip. It was like she had put it on to match the shirt, the way someone slides on a piece of jewelry.

"...A better man than me once said..." Mario then continued, still looking towards Pablo's chair. "...When adorning the body in threads it is best—”

“To cover very little and accentuate the rest!” Pablo called from his chair.

“Yes!”

Both men laughed.

"Beautiful," the girl in his lap said, and Mario turned back to her. They both smiled.

"So I guess clothes aren't really a perversion," she said. "They decorate the body."

"I suppose," Mario said. "But nobody likes when people overdo their Christmas decorations."

Now the girl laughed. "Some people do."

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey! What the hell are you all doing?"

The wiry guy returned, stomping down to their patio and gaping in disbelief at Mario and his chair-mate, and Pablo's, and then at all the streakers on the patio below.

"I'm gonna get in trouble for this. What the FUCK?" He turned to look down at the pool. "You can't swim naked in there! I-it's gross!"

"Are you serious dude?" the guy sitting with his shirt-wearing, bottomless girlfriend said. "You think swimsuits and trunks somehow block cooties from getting in the water?"

The wiry man just grunted and turned to march down to the lower patio. Mario and the others all laughed and shook their heads.

"And nobody likes a Grinch! The girl in his lap said.

"Cheers to that!" Mario announced, and reached for his margarita glass. "Say, I'm ashamed, I didn't get your name."

"It's Carrie," she said, shifting her butt a little so that she was sitting directly on top of his crotch, though Mario had lost his arousal.

"Let's talk business," Mario said. "I want to plan a shoot with you when I get back."

"Let's do it."

Pablo, meanwhile, had gone back to his own planning with the girl sitting with him.

"So I do movies now, not those types of movies, but adventure films. Nudist adventure films. Are you able to travel?"

Down below, the wiry man was being pushed into the pool. All stopped to laugh and went back to their discussions unbothered. The dejected Grinch was wading through the water, his shirt soaked through and his face showing the panic of defeat as people, men and women, surrounded him. Before too long, someone pushed his shoulders down and two men lifted a completely naked girl up out of the water so she could swing up her legs and sit on the man's shoulders. He could be heard protesting and his face screwed up in either disgust or strained arousal as her pussy lips no doubt puckered the base of his neck. Then people in the pool were chanting "chicken fight!" as another girl got up on someone else's shoulders and the pair charged the man and his burden.

"Yeah, I have no problem being fully naked," Zoe said to Pablo amidst all that was going on, and she squirmed out of the lounger and stood again, making Pablo's eyes light up at the presentation of her rear end to him once more. And with quick, simple strokes, she pulled the shoulder straps of her top down. When she got the top completely off, she halted at the sight of Mario staring at her from the other seat.

"Another transformation?" the girl on his lap asked, looking at his face.

"Yes..." the chubby, mustached man said. "But no."

"Transformation?" Zoe asked.

"He was telling me all about it," Carrie said, turning her thumb at Mario's face.

"Have I transformed?" Zoe asked, feeling refreshed to be fully nude, feeling the sweat around her breasts being drunk up by the night air.

"No..." Mario said. "Amazing. The impression is the same."

Zoe raised an eyebrow.

"In a good way," Mario assured. And indeed it was in a good way. The impression of Zoe when she had the top on was of perfect harmony between the black of her pubic hair, her top, and her short-cropped hair. But now, the hair, top and bottom, still complimented, only now with her small breasts and ruby-red nipples to add to the canvas. Yet she didn't look like an ascended being the way that Carrie did. She still looked...

"You look 'punk,'" Mario said. "It's a good look."

Zoe just smiled and settled back into Pablo's chair and his open arms.

"What I want to know," Mario added, "Is how you managed to transform this whole party. Look at it."

Indeed, almost everybody, poolside, at least, was naked.  Even the wiry man was now naked, and he was now being lifted by two women to plant him on another woman's shoulders, light enough as he was, and he no longer looked frustrated or scared. Well, a little scared, but in a good way, as his crotch settled on the back of the woman's neck and he was lifted up to face off against a petite girl riding on another woman.

"Well," Zoe said, turning her eyes back to Mario and Carrie, noting Carrie's full and natural nudity, "It's not so much me. When you take off one piece, the rest is sure to follow."

Mario smiled at Carrie on his lap and smiled back at Zoe.

"So you could say that Bikini Minus One, eventually, and inevitably, equals zero."

"Cheers to that!" Mario cried, raising his margarita glass.

"Cheers!" Pablo cried, trying to reach his.

*****

Melvin was surprised at how happy he was. He had been defeated. He had lost control of the situation. He should have known better than to allow a network of nude models and photographers have a party at the hotel pool. He should have known it would get out of control. "Bikini Minus One equals zero," he heard someone above say as he faced off against two completely naked girls stacked on top of each other. Allowing a little nakedness leads to full nakedness. He wasn't even sure how he ended up naked. He had peeled off his soggy shirt when he had decided fuck it, and that he would enjoy his time in the pool. But at some point, his shorts slipped down, and he didn't care, and next thing he knew, he was being lifted into the air, his stubby little penis facing up to the whole world, and then he was being settled down on a very tall woman's shoulders, and he wasn't stubby for long. His penis squished into the back of her neck, and soon was extending along the left contour, his blood-filled artery exchanging heat with her jugular. And the stringy-haired, waifish, thin girl riding on the other woman's shoulders grinned at him as she quickly approached. Melvin had to let go of his ride's shoulders and lock hands with the girl, and he locked eyes with her, her dark, fierce, gleeful eyes, and he was distracted by her tiny tits, pointed, wet, and jiggling with their impact, and as the two pairs forced against each other, Melvin's cock pushed up his ride's neck, back and forth, like he was having sex. He could do nothing to stop the pleasing motion while he stared at the naked visage of the spunky girl in front of him, until he lost his balance and leaned too far to the left, and fell into the water.

He swore he came right then. He could feel the hot burn and swore he could feel the contact of his spunk against the tall woman's neck, but then he was underwater, and all was muffled, and he could see the stream leaving his waving dick and ribboning up to the surface. He entered a trance and would have drowned if others hadn't pulled him back up, and when he came to the surface, he was a changed man.

A Vacation with Five Naked Girls

Jason had led an interesting life so far, he thought. He never really had a goal in life. He went to a military college for the hell of it, where he roomed with a meek guy named Murray, who he tried to mentor in masculinity. He guessed he made a difference, because when they graduated and Jason bounced between different security jobs until he trained to become a bodyguard, he ended up meeting Murray again only to find him with a girlfriend. A quite cute one, at that, a Hispanic girl with long, flawlessly straight, black hair and hazel eyes.

But maybe it was Murray who had altered Jason's fate, for here he stood as he watched a laughing blonde—Tara—grin as her bikini top fell away to reveal pale breasts, and someone else's strings pulling loose so that her bottom fell away, and then Jason sighed and turned his back to it so he could go be a guard.

That was his current assignment: be security for a day-long photo shoot of five nude models at a rented resort in Baja, California. It was funny how one personal association led him all the way here.

It had been set off when Jason met up with Murray and met his girlfriend, a sweet girl named Becky, and the most mesmerizing woman he'd ever seen: Yumi Takagawa. She was mesmerizing because the first time he saw her, she was completely naked, standing out on the deck of her parent’s spare penthouse, the sun radiant on her bared and tanned shoulders.

She was an OnlyFans model, and was accompanying them to a convention of OnlyFans girls and professional models. She loved being nude, and rode most of the six-hour drive that way, much to Jason's delight. By the time they got to their destination, Yumi's actual home in LA, Jason succeeded in bedding her, though it didn't feel like a triumph. Especially when he met Yumi's boyfriend at a bar later.

That had only been a month ago, but already, that night, Jason's attitudes towards relationships were challenged. There, he spent time with a man who had no problem dating a girl who took off her clothes for money, and with no problem that she slept with other guys.

His name was Kyle, and he was a slight eccentric. He had long, messy hair, but not long like a rock star. He looked like a librarian. His quiet and odd demeanor reminded Jason of Murray a little bit, though unlike Murray, he seemed completely comfortable with his weirdness.

He ended up talking with him for a while once they went to the convention, and Jason saw many things that amazed him. He saw a naked woman kneel on a stage while five guys semi-circled her and started stroking their dicks. Soon multiple white stripes were spread on her grinning face, to raucous cheers. He saw a couple fucking on a table. He saw a man worshiping a woman's open legs and the inner folds of her labia. He saw Murray's girlfriend Becky look nervously from one lewd act to another. He supposed their relationship was similarly unconventional. How Becky was okay with Murray keeping company with a naked OnlyFans girl, and how she was comfortable being in a place such as this, was beyond Jason. She didn't seem like the type. She seemed so innocent. Yumi, too, in her own way, owned her sexual appeal in a dignified way, and she slipped down her tank top to let her breasts out and pose next to fans who recognized her, even though photography was forbidden at the event. Soon, she took the shirt completely off and slid down her jeans to walk around the lounge area naked, while Jason sat on a couch with Kyle and the others, marveling at how unaffected Kyle was to see his girlfriend strutting bare for hundreds of other people.

"I'm amazed you're okay with that," Jason had yelled over the noise of the club.

"She's her own person," Kyle had said, his voice low but still clear over everybody else's.

"...She and I talked about maybe having her hire me. As a bodyguard."

"Oh?" Kyle's interest seemed piqued, his poker face gone. "You're a bodyguard?"

"Part-time. I've done lots of security gigs. Even bounced at a couple clubs back in college."

"Well, I might have a use for you."

"Yeah?"

"So I've been planning a big photo shoot with Yumi and some of her friends, at a resort down farther south. We're gonna rent it out for a day, have complete control of the pool area with a view of the ocean, and shoot all of them nude."

"Wild."

“Yeah. Have you heard of Mario Luci?”

Jason shook his head.

“Well he’s a pretty well-known nude photographer. He’ll be doing the shooting. He’s an interesting guy.”

“Sounds like a dream job,” Jason said. He still had to holler over the music and it felt weird hollering about this topic.

“It’s not all peaches and cream.”

Jason chuckled and Kyle narrowed his eyes at him.

"Anyway, even though we'll have control of the place, we still need someone to keep an eye out. The area will be closed off, but people could wander in."

Jason smiled at the idea of being a guard for a group of naked girls. Their protector, in a way. And the scenery sure would be nice.

"I'm game," Jason said.

"Oh, here comes one of her friends now."

He looked up and saw Yumi first, as she stood out because of her complete lack of clothes, but close next to her was a blonde and bouncy-haired girl, dressed now, but Jason had seen her minutes ago: she was the woman being bukkaked, now with her face wiped clean but still shining.

"Hey," she said to Kyle as she and Yumi approached, and Murray and Becky stopped their own conversation to look up at the pair, Becky shifting a little uncomfortably with nude Yumi looming above her.

"Hey," Kyle said. "We were just talking about the shoot."

"Oh, cool."

And so the two women sat, Yumi completely comfortable with her bare butt on the leather seat, crossing and folding her legs and planting her folded hands on her knees until an exasperated man came walking by, shaking his head, saying "towel, towel," and Yumi stood and the man threw a white towel at her to sit on.

"So are you on OnlyFans too?" Jason asked the new girl, whose face he had seen striped with cum moments ago. It was an odd thing to assess.

"No, I just do porn here and there," she said casually, as if she were talking about waiting tables. "Kyle here's got me interested in posing nude, me and my friend. I'm Tara, by the way."

They were too far away to shake hands, so Jason just waved a palm.

"It'll be me, Yumi, and... where is she? Oh, hey!"

She lifted out of her seat and waved, and soon another girl came over, tall, brunette, with brown hair almost as long as Becky’s and 80’s style bangs that flared out.

"This is Clara, my best friend," Tara said.

"Oh, and are you a model, too?" Jason asked, charmed at being surrounded by so many pretty women, and previewing just the anticipation of getting to see them nude.

"No, I've never done anything like that. That's not my world."

"But you're doing a nude photo shoot, I hear?"

Clara sat.

"Yeah, it might be fun to try. It's not like it's porn. I can handle that."

And with that, she nodded and looked at Tara for confirmation. Tara nodded, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. Yumi, sitting between her and Kyle with her hands on her knees, had just the smallest upturn of a smile at the corner of her mouth. It was weird having her sitting there nude, while everybody else was clothed. Jason should have gotten used to it by now.

"I almost want to try it," a voice that hadn't been heard yet said. It was Becky, leaning forward in her seat. Murray glanced at her with a surprised look.

"Oh yeah?" Clara asked, grinning.

"Yeah, if it's tasteful. Being around Yumi has made me think about it."

"Well, you wanna come along?" Kyle asked. "It'll be in the middle of next month. In Baja."

"...I'll let you know. I gotta think about it. It's just gonna be nude?"

"Yeah. We're renting out a pool area in a resort. It'll be a day-long shoot. Think Playboy."

"Gotcha..." Becky nodded her head, perhaps imagining herself stripping off out in the open, as Jason too imagined it, having spent a whole day on the road with her so far but never having looked at her with those types of eyes because of his other company. Murray, meanwhile, looked surprised and tense, and exchanged glances with Becky that told Jason all he needed to know: her 'thinking about it' would include a discussion between him and her. Jason guessed the boundaries of their relationship weren't as open as Kyle and Yumi's. But still, he had a vacation to look forward to, with the naked girl he was already familiar with, and two of her fabulous friends. It was sure to be a great time.

*****

Becky had not gotten back with Kyle as far as Jason knew, and he found himself on a plane a month later, on a Sunday, leaning back and imagining his assignment to come. He would have to not be too distracted by the disrobing beauties so he could actually make sure they were safe during their photo shoot. He landed in Baja and Kyle picked him up, along with Yumi, clothed, of course, and it was an unfamiliar sight.

"Hope you had a good flight," Kyle said as Jason settled in the back seat and Yumi turned and smiled at him. "We're gonna go straight to the resort."

"All fine with me," Jason said, and the car pulled out.

The resort was attractive, five stories and stretching two wings and overlooking the California beach and the endless ocean. They met Clara and Tara there in the lobby, where the flustered clerk eyed the pretty women, knowing or perhaps not knowing that they would be naked out back before too long. Jason just stood around, taking the whole scene in.

"We'll meet Mario in a little bit," Kyle said. "For now, let's get to our rooms."

"Hey!" a now-familiar voice called, and Jason and the others turned their heads to see Becky standing at the lobby entrance.

"I texted you. You might not have gotten it."

"I got it," Kyle said. "Glad you two could come."

You two? Jason thought, and his question was answered as Becky stepped in and another woman, taller, older, blonde-haired, reserved-looking, came in behind her. She looked shy and raised a hand in greeting.

"Hi," she said in a slightly raspy but still appealingly feminine voice. "Are we getting started already?"

"In a bit, let's get settled," Kyle said.

The woman's name was Mona, Jason learned, as they walked through the courtyard and up a set of concrete steps to their room. She was a co-worker of Becky's. She worked in payroll. She had no experience modeling at all, but she was a close confidant of Becky’s and when she found out what Becky was going to do, she wanted to come along for moral support, and in their discussions, she expressed interest in modeling alongside her.

So that now made five models that would be undressing on the pool patio: Yumi, her polar-opposite friends Clara and Tara, Becky, with Murray nowhere to be seen, and her guest Mona. It was a diverse and delectable assemblage of women who would be taking their clothes off. Jason couldn't wait.

There were three whole rooms split up between them all. Clara and Tara and Yumi all inhabited one, and Becky and Mona roomed together in another, leaving Jason and Kyle to cohabit in the designated "guys" room, which was awkward only because Jason didn't know Kyle very well, and, of course, his imagination wished to bed all of their models. But he knew he was silly to expect anything like that.

"Do whatever you need to do," Kyle instructed him. "Then we'll go down soon and meet Mario."

*****

Mario Luci was a very boisterous fellow. Dressed provocatively, with a Hawaiian-patterned shirt unbuttoned enough to let his curly chest hair flow out, with a sun hat that shielded his bald head, and a bushy, wide mustache that made him look like the Italian stereotype of the video game industry. He was exceedingly enthusiastic and spoke in a high voice not unlike Mario the plumber, and Jason had to bite back a grin at his appearance. The nude photography scene sure had a lot of eccentrics.

He greeted all the women with open arms and shouts of joy, and they all assembled around the pool, where Jason panned his eyes and got his bearing on the location. He was going to ask about the pool being seen from the rooms on that side of the hotel, but his question was answered by the sight of a long cloth screen held up taut all along the side of the patio.

"So for you," Kyle said, walking over to Jason. "This path leads around to the front of the hotel. The staff already knows not to let anybody into the pool, but people could still wander down from the side and come up on us, so that's what I need you to do: stand at the front and stop anybody who might wander in."

"Got it," Jason said, sad that he would have to be away from the action. He peered over as Yumi already was stripping naked, peeling off the blouse she was wearing as casually as if she were wearing a swimsuit underneath, but she was not, and her golden back looked back at him. Tara, who was wearing a bikini, pulled the string at her back and the top fell away, leaving the first sight of her breasts to be a brief glimpse, as Kyle shuffled Jason along. The last thing he saw besides that was Becky standing by nervously, dressed conservatively as she always was and biting her lip at the sudden and shameless nudity happening before her.

And then Jason was alone, walking up the gardened path around the side of the hotel, realizing that his side of the job was going to be without any excitement. A minute later, he stood at the head of the path, looking out at the cars passing by in front of the hotel, tapping his foot already, imagining the five naked women flaunting freely just around at the back of the building.

He folded his arms, mostly out of dissatisfaction, but also because it made him look intimidating. And just in time, because two young guys in loose t-shirts and swim trunks were approaching the sidewalk. They paused when they saw Jason and he put out his hand.

"Sorry, pool's closed for now."

"Aw man, we were just coming to swim."

No shit, what else would you be coming for?

"You'll have to come back later, sorry."

"What's going on there?"

"It's closed for a photo shoot," Jason said, and the young men's eyes lit up.

"No way. Like a model photo shoot?"

Shit. He should have been more vague.

"Not quite," he tried to deflect.

"Man, I wanna see."

"Me too," the other young man said.

"Sorry," Jason pressed. "It has to be closed off." He scrutinized them. "Are you even staying in this hotel?"

The first young man chuffed, as if to say of course we're staying in this hotel, but he was a horrible bluffer. He knew it, apparently, because he said:

"Naw man, the pool's closed at our hotel, so we wanted to use this one."

"Well you got the beach just a hundred feet away."

"Aw, come on, man."

"Sorry."

Goddammit, these punks are persistent. Luckily, they got the hint that Jason was not one to bend, and though not exceptionally tall, he was thick and muscular enough that they knew they could not tangle with him. They nodded their heads and backed off.

"O-Okay, whatever you say, mister."

They turned and retreated, though they took their time doing it, which annoyed Jason further. He already suspected they were looking for a way around. He would have to keep his eyes peeled. Soon they disappeared around the front of the building and Jason was alone again. And alone with his imagination. He wondered what the kids' reactions would be if they had stumbled onto the back patio, witnessing the big cloth screen, the cameras and the lighting, and five naked girls standing bronzed under the sun as they prepared to jump into the pool. Jason was overtaken by that image himself. Almost so that he forgot his surroundings and his sense of time. Shit, he thought. He should have been looking to see if those two guys were sneaking past the bushes. No, he remembered. They had gone around the other side of the building. They could be stumbling onto the shoot right now. He shook his head; this photo shoot really needed several guys like him. He decided to go and check that everything was okay.

He didn't know why he was shocked when he stepped out onto the entrance to the back pool patio. He should have known what he was walking into, but there, he saw the pudgy frame of Mario Luci with his back to him, leaning into his camera as Becky, Murray's girlfriend, who Jason had only seen in the most modest of situations, raised her arms to the sun, displaying every bit of her body. She was pale; her breasts were small and her areolas surprisingly large, and her bush was large and scraggly. Beside her, Yumi sat with her back to the camera, her legs dangling in the pool and her head looking over her shoulder. The others were floating on rafts in the middle of the pool, supine, their legs drawn up, a hovering collection of delectable naked bodies.

Becky was the one who immediately noticed Jason, and her arms dropped and covered her small chest. Then Mario Luci turned around with an almost offended look. Jason caught his breath and then Kyle appeared, walking up to him.

"What are you doing? You should be back at the front."

"Sorry, some kids were trying to weasel their way in. I wanted to make sure they hadn't snuck around the other side of the hotel."

"Then go around to the other side and make sure they aren't," Kyle commanded. Jason was a little taken aback; Kyle was such a small and unintimidating little man. He had not spoken to him in such a tone up until this point. Jason frowned, nodded, and looked up at the disapproving Mario and the embarrassed Becky, and all the other bare and golden goddesses floating in the pool. He caught a puff of auburn pubic hair that belonged to Mona, as she lay flat, her large breasts flattened out into saucers. And Yumi looked at him over her golden shoulder and smiled. Then Jason nodded and made his way back to where he had come from.

He let himself grumble in dissatisfaction, and he almost folded his arms again when he got to the front, but decided he needed to scour to make sure those two kids weren't trying to sneak in. So he walked around the front of the hotel, taking stock of the quiet Sunday scene. The front lobby, seen partially through the glass door reflecting palm trees and shade, looked unpopulated. Besides the cars on the road passing the resort, the front area was still. He walked down another sidewalk bordered by lush bushes and came out onto a grassy lawn, where he could look around to the back corner of the hotel and see the beginning of the wrought-iron fence that bordered the pool. No trespassers. Rather than walking a little further and presenting himself again, Jason turned and walked back to his station, lest it go unprotected.

And there he remained for over an hour, his arms folded again, his spirit growing bored. The two young guys did not show themselves again. They had never been a concern. Jason realized he had shown incompetence already, and shamed himself for it, never mind the fact that this job really called for multiple guards. He sighed and accepted his fate as the one guy who had to be stuck staring at a boring parking lot.

Time passed without any other incidents until he heard footsteps coming up the path. Expecting Kyle, he turned and was amazed at what presented itself instead.

It was Mona, Becky's co-worker, standing a full foot taller than him, her breasts a pleasant, symmetrical joined shape, her auburn pubic hair in a tangly abstract of a rectangle looking back at him.

"Holy shit," he let himself say.

"We're all done," the older lady said cheerfully, and when Jason raised his eyes, he could see Kyle hurrying up behind her.

"Don't run away like that," he said as he joined them. "You're not allowed to be outside the pool deck without clothes."

Mona turned to Kyle and smiled—allowing Jason an unexpected view of her elegant side profile and a glimpse of her surprisingly model-perfect ass—"Sorry, I guess I got used to being without them!"

"Yeah, well, hurry up and get back." Then, looking at Jason. "Anyway, we're done."

"Great," Jason said. "...I can come back then, right?"

"Yeah, come on back, help me wrangle everyone."

Mona turned and walked side-by-side with Jason, which was a surreal feeling despite his naked road trip with Yumi a month earlier.

When he got to the pool patio, he saw what Kyle meant by 'wrangling.' While Mario Luci was packing up his camera, the women seemed to have no intentions of getting dressed. Of course Yumi stayed nude—she probably was nude more often than she was clothed, based on the time Jason had already spent with her—but Clara stood in full, looking almost confused as to whether she should put on clothes or not, for next to her, her friend Tara had put on her bikini top and had not yet tied on her bottom. This was the first good look at Clara that Jason had had, and she was stunning to behold. Her old-fashioned haircut and confused face made her look so innocent, but the alluring shape of her body drudged up oceans of lust that Jason had thought had long ago sunk. Her breasts were voluminous and balloon-like, her areolas similar in shade to the rest of her skin so that it almost looked like she was featureless, like a Barbie doll, an illusion that was sustained by the thinness of her pubic hair below. She stood tall, and her long hair tossed along her back as she turned to observe the others. Becky was standing at the edge of the pool, covering her crotch with a palm and her breasts with her arm as Mona came up.

"Gee, there you are, don't leave me alone like that," she called to her friend, but then stiffened up as Jason approached. He realized his mouth was hanging open and he snapped it shut, then wondered if he should be turning away. So he did.

"What can I do, then?" he asked Kyle, who was walking over to talk to Mario. Kyle turned his head and kept walking.

"Just make sure they get dressed before they go inside," he called.

"We're grown women, we can dress ourselves," Yumi said in her usual flat tone that was laced with the tiniest bit of mirth. Kyle shot her an annoyed look and said nothing, and Jason saw there was yet another layer in the two's relationship. If it had been one of the other girls to speak, Kyle probably would have said something.

Jason stood by and had no idea what to do. Everybody did seem averse to putting on clothes, all except for Tara, perhaps the least shy of the bunch, ironically, as he tied her bikini bottom back over her pale, small butt. Jason's eyes passed quickly and as politely as he could manage, glancing back to Mona and Becky.

"So how'd it go?" he asked, looking at Becky guardedly, because she did not seem comfortable, and because she was, after all, his friend's girlfriend.

"Oh, great," Mona answered for her. "It was the most freeing thing I've ever done." She said this while letting her arms hang at her sides, hiding nothing, while Becky still cowered in the presence of the three clothed men, another of whom was walking over.

Mario Luci approached with big, boisterous steps and his mustache pushed up in a grin, while behind him, Kyle was struggling to take down the cloth screen all by himself.

“I must say, I am glad you two came out!” the eccentric photographer said as he came up and looked at them directly, not phased by their nudity, though Becky’s arm tightened around her chest. Mona, however, stood proud, with her motherly chest presented.

“Thank you, it was a wonderful experience.”

“As it was getting to photograph you! And I will say, Miss Mona, you photograph very well. You too, Becky. You both have a spark.”

Becky’s arm was loosening just a little bit, and her expression softened. Jason still found himself trying to get used to this situation, this casual nudity. It wasn’t like the casual nudity at a nudist resort, because the nudity was the focus of the attention.

“And I have to add, Miss Mona—now this is a bit forward—but I have a colleague in the industry who may be very interested in you.”

“Oh really?” Mona asked, her hand reaching up to grace her chin.

“Yes, and, well, here is the forward part: he specializes in the posterior.”

Mona’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

“The ass, if I may say. It is a continued obsession of his. And if I may be forward, you possess the most picturesque um, well... ass!”

Mona laughed and Jason could even see a blush form on her cheeks (the ones on her face, that was).

“Wow! Well thank you!”

“I mean it. It is difficult to compliment something such as this without coming off as crass, but... it is what it is.”

“I’m flattered, really.”

Mario’s mustache curled as he smiled warmly.

“I’ll make sure to get you his contact later. He operates in Miami. That may be too far of a trip for you, but it is something to consider.”

“Wow, maybe I should quit my job, huh?” Mona said to Becky, who was still loosely covering her breasts and looked up at her in honest surprise.

“Hey guys!” Kyle’s voice came. “We kinda need to get decent now.” Over on the grass where Kyle stood, the sheet was folded up on the ground, and all the hotel room windows looked out upon them.

"Hmmph, 'decent,'" Mario muttered, and turned to go finish packing up his gear. Becky's arm tightened again.

“Yeah,” Jason said, averting his eyes from his friend’s embarrassed girlfriend. “I guess you all should—”

Over at the poolside, however, Yumi was already headed towards the hotel. And she wasn’t dressed. Her honey-hued skin was uninterrupted as always.

"Hey, wait," Kyle called, stepping forward, and he cast an accusatory look at Jason, but Jason knew not what to do. And Yumi marched right up the patio to the glass double doors, where already, no doubt, the attendant inside was swallowing back his fear at seeing the nude model approach. Before Jason could move, Mona brushed by beside him, and he finally got a full view of her rear-end that Mario had gushed about, in its perfect heart shape and sensuous moment, and he blinked stupidly and Becky shrieked from behind him.

"Don't leave me!" she cried, and she too rushed past him, naked, and her pert, compact butt bounding in her retreat. And there he was with three naked women approaching the hotel with no way to stop them. Only Tara passed him clothed, or at least, clothed in the modern sensibilities, i.e., in a bikini, and she shook her head at him as if to commiserate with him. Her friend Clara brought up the rear, clutching her discarded clothes to her body and eventually presenting Jason with the ripply, bouncy sight of her rear as well. Such a procession of different-shaped booties. Jason's feet finally found their purpose and he moved. He rushed past all of the five naked girls to get to the door before they did.

He did not make it.

He heard Kyle's shout as the glass doors opened and Yumi stood in the door frame, shocking whoever was inside. Then her tan, naked back disappeared into the lobby. Mona confidently entered after her, and Becky stood, unsure, looked back, and then fled inside. Jason was at the door just as Tara and Clara got there, and he threw himself past them, brushing against their bare skin and making his own skin ripple with excitement, and he beheld Mona standing there as if she had been teleported out of a bathroom and into the non-nude-friendly scene of a hotel lobby, and Becky looking much the same, shocked to find herself in this setting, still hugging herself, and the clerk stood behind the counter, mouth agape, just as Jason had imagined. Then Yumi looked over her shoulder at Jason and smiled at him, and then walked to the elevator. As she moved out of the way, the two young guys who Jason had stopped earlier were revealed to be sitting at a table, and both of their mouths were agape. Their eyes went from Mona, and briefly to Jason's eyes before focusing on Clara and Tara walking in behind him.

He spun on Clara and Tara, ready to command them to get dressed, but Tara already was, and Clara was pressing her shirt against her full breasts, making them squish, and she was blushing and hurrying behind her friend to the elevators. Even though she was affecting modesty, the two guys got a giant gander at her plump, naked butt as she walked away.

"Man, you really were doing a photo shoot!" one of the young men exclaimed. "Holy shit!"

Jason just turned his eyes to the young men, exasperated as the last two naked girls queued up by the elevator, just out of sight of the hotel clerk but with ample opportunity for the young men to gander as the whole group stood casually, naked, waiting for the elevator.

Then Kyle spilled in through the door, panting.

"You gotta get control of this, man," he said. "You're supposed to be our guard!"

"I-I'm sorry, yeah, I'll go..."

"I gotta go see Mario off. Go make sure they get to their rooms at least, Jesus."

And Jason found himself walking over to the five naked girls, with the two young men staring at him, counting him as the luckiest man in the world. Perhaps he was, but he didn't feel like it, even as his penis twitched in his pants in because of the whole situation. Most of them smiled at him. Becky hugged her clothes to her body and blushed.

"Well I'm glad you all had a good time," Jason told them, realizing it was pointless to tell them to get dressed. The elevator dinged and opened and they all stepped in, and Jason was pressed in by the five naked girls. He took the initiative and hit the button for the fifth floor, his wrist brushing against hot skin, and stood awkwardly in the center of the nude assemblage, making Becky shrink to the wall, but not get dressed. Only Tara was the odd one out, again, throwing her eyes at Jason as if to shrug and wonder what was wrong with her friends.

"I don't know how they can just strut around like that," she said, despite the irony that she was still strutting in a way in her bikini.

"I'm comfortable," Mona said with a broad smile almost as broad as the spread of her breasts. "I could walk around naked all the time after this."

Jason found himself imagining the idea, picturing Mona at Becky's place of work, walking into the office naked one day, to the shock of all her co-workers. Becky must have been imagining it, too, for she hugged her clothes closer to her chest. But he caught Yumi smiling at the thought.

Then the elevator dinged and the doors opened and they burst into the hall like happy children, even Becky, running with fear, holding her clothes against her chest but leaving her behind unguarded, and Jason stood in the empty elevator, marveling for a moment as the five naked butts bounded away from him. A door opened and an exasperated old man stepped out to see what all the commotion was and was floored by what he saw. Then Jason hurried out of the elevator. The old man gave Jason a look of disbelief and only retreated back into his room because his wife was calling from inside. Then Jason was with the girls, as they figured out who had a room key.

Fuck, Jason thought. Kyle no doubt held all the keys. All the girls had on them were clothes with empty pockets, apparently, and Jason's held nothing more than his wallet.

"Shit," he told them. "I guess I gotta go get the room keys." He would have felt like a failure in his position if not for the fact that Kyle had asked him to go up without handing over the cards. Jason straightened his posture and prepared to leave the five naked girls.

"I'll be back," he said with earnesty, looking at the five of them all vulnerable, completely naked in the middle of a hotel hallway. He felt wrong about leaving them; it felt like leaving a defenseless puppy or small child by themselves. But what could he do? He needed to get those keys. So he pressed the elevator button and stepped inside, turning to see the five of them so vulnerable-looking, but he couldn't help to be charmed by the sight of their bodies glowing in front of the window at the end of the hall, and then the doors closed.

He found Kyle talking with Mario in the lobby. Mario looked very animated and enthusiastic about the shoot he had just done. The two young men from before were gone, perhaps finally at the pool like they had wished, though how could they enjoy the pool without thinking of what just occurred in that same space?

Kyle turned to Jason and looked relieved. "So, did they get in their rooms alright?" he asked.

"You have the key cards," Jason said.

"What? You left them alone?"

"What else was I going to do?"

"Call me, retard!"

The front desk clerk's head turned at the insensitive utterance. Jason stood firm and put out his hand, and Kyle irritably dug into his pocket for the keycards.

"Can't believe this," he muttered, and he put them in Jason's hand. Mario, standing next to Kyle, seemed interested in what was going on, until his eyes panned past Jason's shoulders and then widened.

"Well!" he exclaimed. Kyle suddenly looked shocked. Jason turned around with trepidation, and there he saw Mona, exiting the elevator, followed by Becky, who had given up covering herself. And then came the others.

"What the fuck? Kyle cried.

"A lady came out," Becky said. "She was really angry."

"Christ," Kyle muttered. "Here."

"We can't go back up there now!"

"Well you can't hang around here!"

Jason was at a loss as for what to do, panning back and forth between the gaggle of girls and their organizer. The desk clerk was leaning out over the counter to take the whole scene in.

"Wait," Mario halted them all. "Let me grab my camera again. This is perfect."

"Mario, we can't disturb the—"

"Nonsense! Who doesn't love the presence of a naked woman? This will be a great setup."

The clerk was doing nothing. He did not move from his spot. Becky cautiously walked to the seating area of the lobby while Mario put his camera case on one of the round, plastic tables and took his weapon out.

"I’ll do freestyle, come on, relax and pose!"

And so Jason and Kyle stood by as the five women came into the center of the lobby and were set free in a way, permitted to be as nude and comfortable as they liked, and nobody stepped up to stop them. Mario captured them all sitting at the tables as if they were normal hotel guests, their naked bums directly on the chairs with no towels between them. He captured Mona reclining on a couch with the glow of the sun through the window behind her. He captured Yumi, as captivating as ever, and Clara, tall and modest next to her, as they stood by the patio doors. He even got Becky standing at the counter, pretending to check in, while the hotel clerk awkwardly played along. And he got a funny shot of Mona posing with the clerk, stepped out from behind the counter finally, her stark nudity in contrast to his clothing, the pleasant shape of her breasts and her shag and shamelessness sure to drive any viewer absolutely mad. It was a fun early-evening impromptu photo shoot. And when they were done, Jason and Kyle followed the girls out of the elevator and down the deserted hall, with them bounding forward once again, and nobody came out of their rooms to challenge them.

*****

It was a pensive night. While the girls got settled into their rooms and showered (in groups) and stayed nude and fresh, Jason had his own lonely shower and collapsed on the bed, also nude, until Kyle admonished him for it, and he got up and put something on.

"So what's the plan?" Jason asked him after he had put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, much less presentable than what he’d worn so far, but still uncomfortable against his damp skin.

"We're here for the night," Kyle said. "The photoshoot's done. ...I can't believe you let it get as out of hand as it did."

"Sorry," Jason said. "Things just got out of my control."

"Well I guess that's to be expected, you're not really seasoned in in this stuff."

"No. I guess not."

And that was all the discussion there was on that. It was humiliating, but Jason at least could expect his payment once they got back. He fought over how to ask to reassure himself about it.

When he checked in on one of the girls' rooms, he was greeted by the brave and full-frontal visage of Clara, who seemed delighted to see him, and over her shoulder, he could see Tara and Yumi frolicking past in the nude. Apparently, nobody had felt the need to put on clothes. Becky and Mona answered their door when he checked on them, and they actually invited him in. Jason put up his hands in protest. He had a job to do. He had to be professional. As much as he wanted to let himself in and surrender himself to whatever may happen, he had to assure himself that this vacation, this photoshoot, was not about hooking up. Besides, that was his friend's girlfriend in there, now naked and shameless about her overflowing bush or small breasts being seen. Jason shook his head and said he was good, that he just wanted to check on them, and Mona, particularly, seemed very teasing, standing fully in the open door, allowing him to drink all of her in. And as magnetic as the semispheres of her breasts were, Jason nodded and backed away. The look on Mona's face was one of such heart-breaking disappointment, and inwardly, as Jason walked back up to his and Kyle's room, he was kicking himself.

*****

There was talk of what to do for dinner. Though it was a nice resort, there was no restaurant in it, and Jason was glad, for not only would it be overpriced, the girls would probably insist on going down naked, and that would be a whole mess to try to handle. So, instead of going out, they did what anybody does when they just feel like staying in: they ordered a pizza. Jason found himself revisiting the other rooms and finding the girls still naked as he asked them what toppings they liked. It was funny thinking of all of them, all of them reasonably thin and good-looking, to be gorging on such dense food. And thirty minutes later, he had the picture to go with that thought, as Mona slowly lifted a slice out of the box to let the cheese stretch out, then brought the sagging slice to her lips. A string of cheese ended up graced around the contour of her left breast.

They had a classic college pizza party that night, all of them gathering in the most populated room: Yumi, Tara, and Clara's. It was a party atmosphere in that room, and Jason sat uncomfortably while the girls frolicked and ate and channel-surfed on the TV, wiggling their naked butts at him. It was uncomfortable mostly because Kyle seemed uncomfortable as well, brooding in the other chair. It was easy to forget that Yumi, equal among the others, was his girlfriend. Jason was only reminded of that when Yumi came over and sat on the arm of Kyle's chair, looming above him like his muse, and he put his arm around her smooth waist. It wasn't long before Kyle excused himself, and Jason was pressured to tag along with him.

He lay on his bed later with the images of the naked bodies in his head, while Kyle sat silently, reading something out of a notebook. He didn't even put the TV on. It was awkward. Kyle did not scold Jason for his failures or comment on the day's events. There was nothing more to say. And soon, Jason was asleep.

*****

The morning light hurt Jason's eyes when they opened again. Or at least, he thought it was morning. He turned his head and Kyle's bed was empty. The red digital clock on the nightstand read ten o'clock. Wow, he thought. It hadn't been that late when he had retired to the room. Jason wasn't used to retiring early. He would have expected to awake before the sun. He must have really been tired, he thought. He had had a big day. As he sat up, the door opened.

"Get up and come with me," Kyle commanded with a stern face as he entered. "The girls aren't in their rooms."

*****

Jason and Kyle were downstairs now, dreading what they might find. But the lobby was empty. The next obvious place to check would be the pool. As they headed out for the back patio, Kyle turned and craned his neck to see if the clerk was there. But the desk was uninhabited. Jason was already out the doors before Kyle doubled back and caught up with him.

There was nobody at the pool. it was completely empty.

"Where the hell could have they gone?"Kyle growled.

"Maybe they went out to get breakfast," Jason suggested.

"They'd have to walk a couple miles," Kyle said. "And how much do you wanna bet they'd make the walk without clothes?"

He sighed as if he had created a monster.

"I wouldn't say it's a long shot to think maybe they went out to the beach?" Jason suggested, looking at the sandy path leading over the dunes.

"Maybe," Kyle said. "Go and check. I'll go back in and look around the hotel."

"Okay."

"Text me if you find them."

A thought passed through Jason's head.

"Did you try texting them?"

"Yumi's phone was in her room," Kyle said. "I'm assuming the others didn't take theirs, either. Which would point to... well, you know."

"Yeah..."

"We gotta catch them before they catch trouble. Hurry, report back."

"Alright."

And so they parted ways, and Jason was feeling more important, now with a task he could complete. Perhaps he could redeem himself after the previous day, he thought. He marched up onto the sandy beach path, his dress shoes sinking into the sand. He worked his leg muscles, which were already sore from standing most of the previous day (it had been a while since he'd been a bouncer), and by the time he was on the beach, the sand had filled his shoes. What a job, he thought, and he took in the beautiful sight of the ocean and the seemingly empty shore. He looked left, then right, and then found them.

There they were, and Kyle's prediction had been right. They were naked. All they had with them were towels, which some of them laid out on. He could see Tara and Yumi side-by-side, contrasting from each other with Yumi's thoroughly tan skin and Tara's paler complexion. And standing knee-deep in the surf were Clara, Mona, and Becky, splashing each other, Mona's larger breasts bouncing sharply as she hopped and laughed. It was a scene that Jason would love to photograph, he realized, remembering his brief on-the-road photographic stint with Yumi. He never got to see those pictures and wondered how they had turned out.

Mona was the first to notice him, and he was already walking over to them as she waved him in.

"You guys should probably get dressed before somebody sees you," he said as he came up to Yumi and Tara where they lay.

"It's the beach," Tara said. "It's meant to be naked at. Besides, it's Monday. It's dead."

Jason shook his head and couldn't help but smile. It was amazing that this girl, who had been incredulous about staying nude the previous day, now embraced it. Beside her, Yumi looked over at Jason and smiled in her salacious, devious way.

"Well anyway, at least we know where you are. You gave us a scare. I'm gonna have to let Kyle know y'all are okay."

"Is he gonna run down here and tell us to cover up?" Tara asked, looking out at the surf where the others were now coming out of the water, ascending like sea maidens.

"Well, at the very least, he'll be bringing your clothes down so you can get back to the hotel safely. How did you get out here with nobody stopping you?"

"It's Monday," Tara repeated. "It's dead."

Becky, Clara, and Mona were all grins when they approached, especially Mona, who looked at Jason directly and said: "Hey! You should come swim with us."

Jason felt the twitch and the constriction in his pants. Professionalism.

"Actually," he said, his brain speaking out of turn. "I wish I had a camera with me. Y'all look beautiful."

"Another photo shoot!" Becky beamed. "On the beach! That would be a great idea."

"Too bad that guy Mario still isn't here," Jason said, allowing his eyes to hover just a second longer than acceptable on Becky, so innocent still, but shameless, and Clara, similarly innocent-looking and seeming to embrace the naked life, and Mona, who still eyed Jason almost hungrily.

"Well," it was Mona who said: "You got your phone, don't you?"

And Jason grinned at the realization that he was about to become a nude photographer. He pulled out his phone, keeping his eyes on all the artistic inspiration around him.

Better text Kyle first, he realized as he looked down at his screen, and he quickly did so. Hey, found them. They were on the beach, he typed, and then sent. Then he hastily brought up his camera app, and he looked up at the scene he was in.

Mona was poised to pose, and instantly put her hands up so she could fluff her hair, and Jason snapped a photo. She looked like any classic Playboy model, and behind her, Becky was exceedingly candid, earnestly excited, and delectably nude. He snapped a second photo as she prepared an exaggerated pose, propping her fist on her hips and leaning to the right, where Clara also stood, smiling over at Becky's theatrics and looking just as delectable without doing anything. Jason experienced the same feeling he had encountered when photographing Yumi in Becky's moving convertible a month prior; he felt like he was capturing these beautiful girls like Pokemon to keep in his rolodex. He turned to photograph Yumi and Tara splayed out on the sand, and they were more than pleased to stretch out and display themselves. Jason found himself licking his lips as he captured their supine forms, their tanned thighs, Yumi's stark black pubic hair, her burning skin. Both of them then got up and Jason panned around them as they walked towards the beach. Yumi was closer to him, and Jason had flashbacks to his first impression of her, now multiplied by five. Five times over his phone's camera passed over bare and bronzed shoulders, and manes of hair brushing bare skin, and each new subject made him hold his breath again, until he turned his phone to shoot in landscape mode and caught all of them at once, all in a row, and he backed up as they walked forward until they were in frame from top to bottom, head to toe, Mona's head the tallest out of all of them. The varied heights and shapes of the girls made an irregular arrangement of their photogenic bare butts, Mona's sitting a bit higher, shaped a bit more wide and dynamically, and Yumi's the tannest and most simple of the bunch. Before Jason could become the famous Pablo Estrada, the asses were half-submerged into the foamy water right as a dramatic wave broke behind the girls. Snap. What a fabulous picture. He caught them all playing in the water like children. More like naked angels from Heaven.

"Hah, look at that."

Jason's heart seized and he was afraid to turn around. This was it. He had fucked up again. But turning and looking, he saw an old gray-haired couple, a tall man and a short, wide woman, both dressed what looked too warmly for a walk on the beach, and they were pointing and smiling.

After a blink of astonishment, Jason waved naturally, and the couple waved back.

"They have the right idea!" the woman said, and the couple kept walking. The man stared plenty and the wife didn't scold him, even as Yumi and the others turned and saw their spectators, some of them waving. The man's eyes passed Jason's before they walked along, and he said without having to open his mouth: You lucky bastard, how do you do it? Then they were on their way. They reminded Jason of the old man on their floor, and his wife who was presumably the one that had chased the girls downstairs. They reminded him of them, only the complete opposite in how they took things, how they viewed the world.

"What the hell, man?"

Jason sighed and turned to see Kyle marching down the sand, his arms overflowing with bundled-up clothes. A pair of denim shorts was already abandoned on the sand behind his feet. Jason was thinking of something clever to respond with, but his mind was a blank.

"I gotta bear the consequences of this. I'm sure someone's already complained. But now that they're flaunting in front of people out here, they might get hit with public indecency charges!"

His eyes scanned the sand and saw where Yumi and Tara had been lying.

"Good. They brought towels. Hey! Come on in and get dried and dressed!"

He then stumbled with his armful of clothes and dumped them on one of the towels. Jason looked back at the water and most of the girls were only ankle-deep, flashing the whole beach with their full-frontalness, but they didn't look like they were intending to come all the way to shore.

"I got some mad crazy photos," Jason said to Kyle behind him as he watched Mona rise regal and ravishing out of the water. "With the extra shoot you did in the lobby, you'll have three sets to upload now."

"With your phone? This isn't amateur hour."

Jason turned and Kyle was sitting on the towel next to the pile of clothes, looking defeated, accepting that there was nothing he could do to contain the public nudity.

"Take a look at them later," Jason said.

"I will. For now, wrangle these girls, will you?"

"Hey Jason," came Mona's voice, and Jason turned to find her right in front of him, again taking his breath away. The droplets of the sea multiplied across her breasts, rolled through the bumps of her areolas. "Why don't you come and swim with us?"

A smile spread on Jason's face. Without a word, he pocketed his phone and began to undo his belt.

"Jason, no, what the—"

His pants went down, and his boxers with them. He pulled his feet out of his shoes and sand got all over his socks and in his pants as he struggled out of everything, and Mona smiled and watched as he stood bottomless on the beach. Tossing his items aside, he only then tore off his shirt. It felt liberating. The sun warmed his chest and his groin. The last thing he took off was his watch, tossing it safely on top of his clothes, and he caught Kyle staring in disbelief.

When he turned back, Mona took his hand, and he walked with her towards the others, who had turned to see. Tara and Clara were cheering. Becky looked surprised. Yumi only smiled. Jason proudly marched along and relished the feeling of his dick swinging freely as he walked, and relishing the fact that all eyes were on it. Or maybe that was just in his perverted head, for when he reached the water, which was sharply cold on his ankles, Mona let go of his hand and trudged in, and the others turned and continued to enjoy playing and splashing.

Jason had never been naked outdoors before. The reckless freedom of it turned him on but also freed something else in him, and as his smile broke into a laugh, he entered the water and realized that there was nothing indecent about this at all.

A Tale of a Naked Girl

"Let's go over it again," the detective said. He loomed over Sean, his hands on his hips where his shirt billowed out from his waistband.

"I told you already."

"Let's try telling the truth this time."

"I did."

"There was semen in the sitting room."

"Right, I-I ... was jacking off."

"You didn't say that before.''

"Well, it is a little embarrassing."

“So let's go over that part."

*****

It was late and Sean and his uncle Gary settled in the sitting room. The only light came from a couple of poorly placed lamps on the side of the room. The only window, curtains closed, had nothing but darkness outside, Sean knew. He sat on a couch across from his uncle's easy chair, with the coffee table between them and two sweating bottles of beer, even though Sean was only eighteen. The fridge was behind his uncle's back, and the window to the right of that. Uncle Gary sat stiffly, as if he was uncomfortable with the window at his back.

"Gonna be gettin' up early tomorrow," his uncle said. "So don't have too many."

"I can handle it," Sean said.

He was there to help his uncle build a new deck on the back of his cabin. It was his mother's idea; she thought it would be a good opportunity for some guy time, she had said, and Uncle Gary lived alone, and could use the company. And the help.

"I ain't gonna have you waking up tomorrow with a headache," Gary said, “We have a lot to do tomorrow."

They had already torn down all the rotten wood from Gary's original deck, and now they had a stack of fresh lumber to replace it with. There was almost a sense of dread for Sean whenever somebody said 'we have a lot to do today,' but he was no stranger to hard work. His father often mean-spiritedly joked, "you'll be doing hard labor for the rest of your life, no doubt." He was a small-time real estate broker. Uncle Gary didn't like him. And Sean's father didn't like Gary. He looked down on him. Even Sean's mother did, too, a little, but Gary was her brother and she didn't distance herself from family. And she had figured that Gary would benefit as much from Sean's company as much as Sean would benefit from spending time with his uncle.

He was a bit of a dirty old man, evidenced by the Playboy centerfold nailed to the wall. The centerfold wasn't even torn out; the whole magazine was just open and hung up, Miss December of 1990 gazing sultrily out at the two men with her hands on her hips, wearing nothing but an open pink parka, and hanging above her, turned sideways, was the opposite page, where she emerged horizontally out of a bubbling hot tub.

He had divorced his wife over a decade ago, left his house and his son, and bought and moved into this old cabin on the outskirts of the county. He had been alone all that time, as far as anyone knew, alone with his libido, and presumably with no companions to release it.

“Do you usually stay up late here, Gary?" He didn't call him “Uncle Gary,” not after today. It felt too weird to say it over and over.

"No," Gary said, "Not always. …I don't like sitting up late with my thoughts”

He shifted in his chair and his shoulders tensed like he wanted to look behind him, but he didn't move.

“You alright?” Sean asked him.

"Alright, alright, just thinkin'."

“You said you don't like to do that."

"Yeah, I did say that..."

"Is there somethin' outside?"

"Deer, I suppose.”

“I mean like, anything we should be scared of? You keep makin’ like you want to look out the window."

Gary's posture relaxed, he sat back in his chair, and he curiously looked over at the centerfold on the wall, which Sean had been stealing glances at. The model's labia were fat and visible despite her pubic hair and were hypnotizing to the teen. "Wanna hear a story?" Gary asked. "It's one hundred percent true."

"Sure," Sean said, feeling a little more relaxed. It sounded like he was about to hear a ghost story.

"So this happened to me just last week," Gary explained, picking up his beer and leaning back. Sean picked up his beer as well. "It's kind of why I had your mother ask for you to come up. This has been haunting me for a while.

"So I was drivin' back from town, and I was almost here when I saw this girl walkin' on the side of the gravel road."

Sean leaned in, suddenly more interested.

“She was naked.”

Now Sean was most definitely interested. Uncle Gary’s eyes drifted over to the centerfold.

“She kinda looked like her a little bit, too,” he said, nodding over to the sultry blonde on the glossy page. “Maybe a little younger. And no makeup.

"So of course I stop, thinking maybe she's in trouble or something. But when I rolled down my window, she looked at me, and she didn't look troubled at all. She even smiled a little bit. It sounds weird to say, but that made me nervous for some reason. I asked her, 'are you alright?' and she just smiled at me, my eyes were having a hard time not looking below her shoulders. She looked just like that girl there, in the body at least. Maybe a bit leaner."

“Her boobs were the same, though?”

Gary chuckled. “Yeah, they was just as you see there.” He motioned again to the rather buoyant and balloon-like bosom of the bared model, her areolas rather small in comparison to her largeness, and a light shade of pink, matching her lipstick. “So anyway, she smiles at my question and then says, in the sweetest voice: ‘I am perfect.’ Well I sure agreed with that. ‘You need a ride?’ I ask her. ‘Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?’ And she answers something like ‘Why would I need to?’ And I sure couldn’t disagree with that, either.

“‘But I will accept your offer,’ she says next, and I’ll tell you what, I felt giddy as a schoolchild, though I guess I was concerned for her, too. She’s already walking up to my passenger door and opens it and is standing there for me to ogle at her, and she climbs in, just plants her naked rear right on my seat and then closes the door, and I’m sitting just a foot away from her, and she’s smiling at me. I thought for sure this is where I die; this is the ruse to get me to drop my guard, and she’s gonna pull a knife—from God knows where—and end me.

“‘So where do you need a ride to?’ I ask her, and she just levels her eyes at me and says ‘Your place will be fine.’ I’ll tell you what, fantasies like that just don’t fall in your lap every day. So I put my truck into gear and rumbled on down the road. It’s a bumpy ride, and well, every sharp jolt the truck hit, it made her titties bounce. Even without that, it was all I could do to concentrate on the road. I’m glad it was the gravel road and not the main one where I found her. I would have hit another vehicle head-on and that would have ended my fantasy real quick.”

“Did you fuck her?”

Gary narrowed his eyes at Sean. That was a step too crass and Sean realized it and lowered his eyes in shame.

“No, I didn’t fuck her,” Gary said. “Though if I did, I don’t think my heart would’ve taken it. I probably wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this story then, in that case.”

It was clear to Gary that Sean was disappointed getting the spoilers already, so he piqued his interest.

"Don't worry, it gets good, though." He said this with a slight smile, but it was a smile laced with uncertainty. Sean perked up and took another swig of his beer. It was nearly empty, and he glanced at the fridge behind his uncle but didn't ask for another one.

“So we pull up, and she gets out right away, beats me to the front door. I’m so glad I don’t have neighbors. Well, I’m usually glad, but right then I was especially glad. And especially glad I got to gander at her butt freely as she walked up to the front porch. I say that not because she had her back turned, but because there was nobody around to judge. She… she didn’t seem to mind my eyes too much, because she turned around and just stood there, smiling at me, waiting for me to catch up. It took me a second to move because I was too busy staring at her from top to bottom. She had a nice little tuft of dark bush—I’m a bush man, I don’t know about you—and her skin was so tanned, perfectly tan all over, like she never lived a moment with clothes on. I could hardly believe I was walking closer and closer to her. You know I haven’t been with a woman since I divorced?

“Anyway, She barely stands aside to let me unlock the door, and I can feel her skin brushing against my sleeve and I couldn’t get that damn door unlocked any faster. And then we’re in. I didn’t know what to do, and she just goes right in and starts looking around. ‘Can I get you anything?’ I asked, and she just calls over her shoulder: ’No, I’m fine.’ What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He spoke that last part as if asking in the present, and maybe he was, for the worry lines on his brow started to form.

Sean was leaning on his knees now, his empty beer bottle forgotten. He resisted asking and then what?

“So I follow her deeper into the cabin like a lost puppy. She walked through every room, including this one.”

Sean shifted in his seat as if he could feel the memory of the naked woman passing through him.

"I was beginning to worry about what I had on my hands. Like maybe she's on drugs, or she's escaped from the loony bin. But she didn't look like she was out of her mind. She looked perfectly in control.

“So anyway, we ended up in the bedroom.”

“Alright,” Sean cheered in a low voice, biting it back because it sounded weird to be cheering on imagining his uncle doing the nasty.

“That’s what I thought,” Gary said. “I thought: ‘hell yeah, this is it.’ Ten years of being a divorcee and finally I’m roping in young women like I ought to have been. She read my mind. I mean really, I think she read my mind, because she turned around and said, I shit you not, something like ‘has it been so long?’ I was flabbergasted. I was too embarrassed to say, but of course, she knew, anyway. So I started to take off my clothes.”

Gary sat back, took in a big breath, and then took in a swig of beer.

“This is kind of weird to talk about with you.”

“Aw come on, I wanna hear.”

Gary took a second swig of beer and that finished the bottle. He regarded his dead soldier and telegraphed his intention to go to the fridge. That signaled Sean to ask:

“Can I have another one?”

Gary grumbled, sighed, and then said: "Sure, why not?" He stood with his shoulders hunched and his back curved and springing with pain as he limped the six feet to the fridge, dropping his empty bottle on the door rack and plucking up two fresh ones. He was breathing heavily by the time he returned to his nearby chair. In his pain, it seemed he had forgotten about his fear of the window. Or maybe it was because he was getting lost in the telling of the story. At least, the good part of the story. Sean twisted off the cap of his beer, took a swig, and set it next to his empty one as his uncle collapsed into his chair.

“So anyway, I got naked. It seems I had the full go-ahead to do so.  Now that’s an unceremonious thing, don’t go imagining my pasty ass, but you can’t fuck with clothes on. Or, I guess you could, but… Anyways, I wasn’t shy, and she didn’t seem to be put off by my old physique. I dropped my drawers first and let Little Gary breathe, and the girl even smiled. I realized at that point I hadn’t even asked her name. I would’ve, but I pulled off my shirt instead. Then, in a few seconds, I’m lying on the bed, and she’s crawling on top of me.”

Sean drank liberally and already downed half of his bottle, his head already filling with fancied images of what was being told, his pants already constricting and unbearably tight around a helplessly new-sprung arousal.

“She straddled me. She played with me. You know what I mean.”

Gary coughed as if to get the nerve to go into detail.

“But I couldn’t get it up!” he finally concluded with an attempt at a humorous intonation. Sean’s eyes blinked, having no doubt imagined just the woman, but now forced to imagine his uncle’s flaccid penis.

“She fiddled with it in her hands for a little bit. I felt all the physical signs of being excited: rapid breathing, pounding heart—man, my heart—and a fire inside, but not outside, if you know what I mean. I took a handful of a breast. With my other hand I felt her smooth ass. I’ve never felt an ass that smooth before. And all the while she just threaded my limp prick between her fingers.”

Gary paused again and let out a shaky breath that startled Sean. His uncle took a swig of beer and his nephew looked on with sudden dread at how the story was going to turn sour.

“And then,” Gary said in an almost weepy voice, “she disappeared.”

“What? She walked out on you?”

“No, I mean she disappeared. She leaned back and her smile was fadin’ because I couldn’t get it up, and the farther back she leaned, the fainter she got, until she was just gone. She was a damn ghost. Or something worse, maybe. It’s strange, though, the last glimpse I saw of her face, she almost looked sad in a way.”

Gary then leaned back with an air of finality, contemplated his beer, and then set it down on the coffee table between them. Sean likewise didn't care about his beer anymore. He just stared and waited for the last part of the story. There wasn't one. Gary finally stood up and took his half-empty beer, looked down at Sean's first downed one, and took that too. "You still drinkin' that?" he asked about the one in his hand.

“You gotta be kiddin’. That’s it?”

Gary shrugged, seeing Sean still had beer in his bottle, and took the two he had back to the fridge. Sean stared at his back. When Gary closed the door, he remained that way and said without looking:

"Yeah, that's it. I never saw her again. For all I know she's still here." He turned to face Sean there on the couch, his eyes glancing almost reassuringly at the blonde centerfold on the wall, who seemed to look at him in defiance. "That would be a less creepy thought than if I just somehow imagined it all."

Uncle Gary sure didn’t seem crazy. He was lucid enough to tell the tale he no doubt actually had experienced.

“Anyway, when you’re done, put the empty bottle in the fridge. You can leave these lights on if you want… if you’re scared after that story, heh.”

"I might stay up a bit," Sean said. He wasn't scared. Well, maybe a little. The way that his uncle seemed perturbed made Sean feel wary. But he was also incredibly horny (which he always was).

“Well don’t stay up too much later. You know the deal. Have a good night. Oh, there’s blankets over in the closet there, if you need ‘em. See you in the morning.”

Uncle Gary waddled out of the sitting room, through a doorway all the way in the corner, and Sean was alone with the tale still floating in his mind and Miss December 1990 staring at him from the nearby wall, the expression on her face almost changed, as if she was glad the old man was out of the way and that she was alone with a young boy. Sean's eyes passed down her golden body, hovering where her saucer-like breasts hovered, but drawn down to her bush and her puffy pussy. It was hypnotizing, but not because Sean wasn't familiar with a pussy. He had already fucked lots of girls in school (sometimes literally in the school), and this supermodel on the laminated page didn't look too much different from Julie Summers, a repeat flame of his, who had no qualms about standing naked in the middle of a cleared-out classroom, even with the hall outside visible through the large-windowed door, her hands on her hips not unlike the centerfold model in the present, as if challenging the dress code and daring the principal to walk by and see her. Then Sean would press his lips against hers. The lower ones, that was, and back her up to a desk where she would hop up on her butt and open her legs for him to do his Cunnilingus 101 project.

He was definitely hard now. The memory popped like a bubble and he was back in the living room, Miss December still staring back at him. He got curious, almost feeling guilty of thinking of her with a title and not her name, so he stood up with his beer and walked over to where the centerfold hung. He had been chewed out enough for forgetting girls’ names.

His eyes traveled down her long, tan legs to just above her ankle, where her name was written: Morgan Fox. Sean almost read it as Megan Fox. That was the sex symbol for his generation. He wondered if she had ever posed for Playboy.

Curious, Sean lifted the bottom of the centerfold and saw the profile sheet of Miss Fox, and he twisted the connecting pages a little bit to more easily read the handwriting, or faux handwriting, Sean wasn’t sure. It was a little hard to read for him, but at least it wasn’t cursive. He laughed at the categories: Turn-ons (sushi, apparently) and Mr. Right, where the beautiful model revealed what she wants in a man, as if any of the dirty old men who had opened this issue could ever have a chance with her. Like Uncle Gary. He may have had a beautiful naked woman practically fall in his lap, but he was delusional if he thought any young woman would be turned on by him. Even he had said it: don’t imagine my pasty ass.

Sean lifted that page to complete the folding of the spread and was greeted with a seductively-shot full-page photo of Morgan Fox’s body taking up the whole frame, from the bottom of her muff up to her armpits, fresh out of a bath or sauna, her body dotted with hundreds of droplets and streaks of reflected light. He was looking at it sideways, and didn’t even care to tilt the page. The more up-close view of her bush allowed him to study the different directions that her coarse hairs grew out in, and the way they traced her mound to the gap between her thighs…

His dick was out almost right away. He had one hand, still holding his beer, pressing his knuckles into the wall above and to the left of the centerfold, which he let fall back down so that Morgan Fox was staring at him again, intimately close, and his bared penis pierced through the grip of his other hand and tapped the tongue-in-groove wood walls as he thrust and panted.

A minute later, deciding he wanted to make this a moment, and realizing he didn't want to stain the walls with a blast of his semen, Sean walked back to the center of the room with his dick still out, prominent and wagging in front of him, and he set the beer down and went for the closet where Gary had said the blankets were. They were all big and fluffy and dark-colored, deep blues and plaid patterns. They all smelled musty. He picked one of the plaid ones and took it to the couch and spread it out. His erection was falling so he fluffed himself while looking at Morgan in all her glory. Then he looked at his beer. It was almost empty. He decided he would treat himself to one more. He traded his empty one for a full one so there wouldn't be two beers sitting out on the coffee table should he fall asleep, and he lay on the couch with his head propped up on the armrest and he was able to look straight at the centerfold where it hung, the Playmate now like a miniature woman in the room, but the centerfold still large enough to make out the important details. He reached out and took a preparatory sip of his beer, set it back down, and spread open his fly to better access himself, his own pubic hair breathing in the damp-smelling room. He pulled up his shirt and began to work, twisting his bobbing penis in his strong grip. He almost thought about getting naked but was too self-conscious about being caught by Uncle Gary, never mind that getting caught with his pants half-down and his dick all the way out would still be just as bad. But perhaps understandable; Uncle Gary ought to sympathize with the need for relief after a story like that. He was probably doing the same thing right now. It was weird to think about and he excised that image from his brain and just focused on the Morgan Fox. Other girls came into his memory, too. Like Becky, the shy sophomore who Sean had seduced easily. She was a nerdy girl, the type that is popular in pornos, but she didn't realize her appeal until she was naked and hugging herself and watching Sean's eyes transform with lust. She was thin and small-breasted, each one fitting into his palm like an apple. Or there was Mandy, the troublemaker, tough girl, and Sean's weed dealer. She was a voluptuous girl, but not fat. Well, fat where it counted. His cock had slid so pleasurably between her huge, naked breasts with their oversized areolas, popping through to tickle her chin and make her laugh. Sean had never been any harder; he swore his dick had grown that day. She had a hairy bush, too, wild and hairy. Sean had avoided going down at her, which made her upset, but playfully so. She would punish him with a solid thwack from her two extended fingers, and it stung but left him rigid and waving, waiting for another.

All those conquests, and yet there was still nothing inferior about self-love. Even players did it. Everyone did it. Prudes and the super religious kids shunned it but still did it behind closed doors. Sean remembered the first time he did it, in his room on his own computer as soon as he found Pornhub and saw limitless videos of girls slathering erect cocks, Japanese girls taking load after load of semen onto their faces, guys jack-hammering girls from behind while their pussies flared open and their inner labia showed like obscene flower petals. The first feeling of his own dick, hot and squirming like a living thing, like he had just caught a squirrel and was squeezing it, and the cough of pearly release, stinging as it came out, as hot as if it were blood. He had imagined what it would feel like to have a girl’s lips close on his cock like the girls on the computer screen, and when that happened for the first time, it happened so easily, and the faintness of the sensations had surprised Sean, so he had taken himself into his own hands and pumped and expelled onto the girl’s face just like he saw on the pornos. She was Kimberly from the cheerleading team, and any time he saw her picture in one of the school publications, he couldn’t unsee the way his cum had striped across her smiling lips.

Sean panted and his cock pushed through the opening of his hand and then was pulled back down, and he hissed and relished the sharp, painful pleasure, and Morgan looked on with approval, displaying her body so he would only get more excited. He grabbed for his beer and drank while stroking at the same time, and some dribbled down the side of his face and wetted the blanket beneath him. He would have gotten up to go get something to dab it up with, but he was too involved now, too ensnared to leave, even when he realized he had not gotten any tissues to clean himself with. Who cares? He pulled his shirt up more as if to bare his lean torso for the pleasure of the inanimate model, and just the implication of interaction made the tip of his cock burn familiarly, and his moment arrived.

It was just a thin stream. It launched up abruptly and looked like the remnant trail from a spray of silly string. Yet the pressure wasn’t released. Just precum, he thought. He had never been so turned on to have had that happen before. The real load was coming now, he could feel its announcement up his shaft, and he bared his teeth, raised his hips, and locked eyes with the magazine from across the room, but it was hard to focus now. His vision blurred. He had never had that happen before, either. The only thing in focus was his dick, everything else was an impressionist's painting, and he was the centerpiece. It was like he was looking a tribute to male vitality, and he had never actually looked at himself like that before, only now, in a non-gay way he assured himself, appreciating the beauty of his own cock, its thickness, the way his foreskin gathered, wrinkly, at the base of his glans, and the smooth, ridged crown designed so aesthetically, like the helmet of a soldier, and the subtle way it pulsed in preparation for artillery fire. And as if to appreciate it, a pink set of lips hovered just above it, coming into clarity now.

Sean blinked and slowed his hand. A face was smiling down on him, a pretty, seductive face, the face of Morgan Fox. He blinked again and slowed his hand nearly to a stop, unintentionally edging himself, something he’d always been too impatient to try, as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. No, what he was experiencing. There was a weight on him now. The blurriness in his vision was gone, and straddling him was a fully-nude, fully-grown, fully tan woman with bright blonde hair that hung down her shoulders, and heaving breasts with fat, pink nipples. She lowered herself so her breasts touched his legs, and her chin just inches from his begging cock. Instantly Sean moved his hand again, slipping his foreskin up and down over his crown. The woman, smiling, opened her lips and rolled out her tongue. Sean grunted and pumped faster, and the delayed load came, first a short spurt that landed perfectly on the target of her taste buds, then a violent, high-reaching blast that striped vertically up her face all the way to her forehead, and she let out a faint laugh as the rest of the shots spattered on her lips and then gushed out onto her tongue again, which flipped back out. Then she pulled it in, closed her lips, and smacked them like she had just had a good meal, and Sean's hand fell from his cock and he collapsed, breathless. The woman then stood. She did not fade away. Sean's eyes almost fell closed but they shot open as the woman loomed above him and turned so that he was staring at her ass just a foot away from his face. He could make out the pattern of faint gooseflesh on each full, ruddy cheek, and he reached out his beer hand and his fingers touched her taut skin. Sean sat up now, but the fantasy did not fade. His shirt fell and curtained his spent dick. He could already feel the dampness spreading there. The woman turned and took a knee next to the couch.

“Thank you for that,” the woman then said. Her voice was high but throaty, feminine but with a rough edge, like she was an old-fashioned woman, i.e., a long-time smoker. It was not unattractive. In fact, it was soothing. Sean then stood, and the woman remained kneeling, her gaze turning up and her smile spreading at his waning erection pointing right at her. Experience commanded Sean’s actions without the need for forethought, and he took himself in his hands as she pushed out her chest, and he rubbed his remaining seed over and between her twin feminine traits, as if in offering, and she smiled and glided her hands over her globes to rub his cum into her skin. The underside of his head bumped over her knuckles, and an engorged nipple nestled right in the crook of his crown, and Sean groaned again, then took a liberal swipe across one whole breast, and then the woman stood.

She smirked at him, as if only pleasantly amused, passively satiated, and without a word she turned and drifted down the length of the couch away from him, and then around the armrest and towards the little door at the corner. Sean’s pants had fallen to his ankles and he could not pursue, only watch her rear-end in retreat, delicious undulating retreat that made his erection sustain, the hem of his shirt resting at the base. He didn’t move despite the ridiculous situation, and just when he was about to reach down to pull up his pants, he heard Uncle Gary’s shout of surprise from one of the far rooms, his emotion echoing down the hall so that Sean could clearly picture the old man leaning up in bed, startled at the sudden apparition in his doorway. Then there was an immediate cry of pain, Gary choking on his own cry, and then silence.

*****

“And when I went into his bedroom, he was laying there dead, his eyes and mouth were wide open.” Sean said that with a tremble, still dealing with the shock of witnessing the snapshot of one’s sudden death. He had never had that happen before, either.

The detective folded his arms. “Mmm-hmm.”

“You don’t believe me?”

The arms fell and the detective sighed.

“Well, to me, it sounds like a mental block.”

“A what?”

The detective knelt beside Sean's chair as if he were consoling a child.

“It’s when somebody puts up a false memory in their mind to hide a painful one, whether consciously or not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, what I’m getting at…” The detective took in a big breath. “You didn’t mess around with him, did you?”

“What? No!”

“It’s okay.”

“There wasn’t anything like that at all. Is that seriously what you fuckers think? That my uncle molested me?”

“He gave you beer.”

“I asked for it.”

“And he relented because it would lower your inhibitions. And then after what happened, you attacked him when he went to bed, as revenge. Hit him on the chest and gave him a heart attack. Nobody will blame you.”

“That’s not what fucking happened.”

“Watch your fucking language.”

Sean just blinked at the man. I’m a fucking teenager, he said. Fuck, I’m an adult. I’m too old to be taken advantage of by a crusty old man.

“That’s not what happened,” Sean repeated, with the expletive removed. The detective sighed and stood.

“We’ll go over this again in a bit,” he said. “At least until your parents get here.”

Just the mention of his parents made Sean’s heart seize in dread. The detective turned and made for the door. A heavy latch lifted and the door opened to the sound of much activity outside, then it shut with a dramatic thud and the latch falling shut again. Sean sat there and thought about what his mother would say, wondered if she would buy the police’s story, that she would regret ever sending him to Uncle Gary’s place, and he was helpless but to go over the shock of finding him dead, the strange, guilty relief of not having to work on the deck the next day, and the haunting climax with the mysterious woman, which loomed over all of it and would stay with Sean forever…

Now that you’ve had some fun, have some Naked Thrills! But Don’t be embarrassed, you’re only naked!

Press flesh with P.A. Choi at:

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[1]Discover Pablo’s obsessive journey in Ass Man!