Art

A couple of my male colleagues invited me for a drink when we had finished, and I took the opportunity to wave my boobs in the pub we visited.

The weekend was spent sorting out clothes for our holiday, which involved buying some new items of course. Arthur pointed out that we wouldn't be wearing anything at Cap d'Agde but I told him not to be silly - we would want to look smart when we went outside its environs. Men just don't understand sometimes.

The night before we left I made him give me a really good shave, so that there was no trace of pubic hair. I am so pleased that bare pussies are fashionable and I can't understand anyone who suggests that it is unnatural - if that's the case why do men shave their faces or women under their armpits. And unless the hair is sparse and neat a bare pussy looks so much more appetising, I mean attractive.

Our journey to the south of France was trouble-free, helped by our light luggage, and we arrived at our destination in the middle of the afternoon. I was astonished to see that it was a completely nudist place - even people shoppoing in the supermarket, whatever their ages or appearance, were wandering about aithout any clothing.

We settled ouir things and made our way to the beach, unencumbered by anything except our towels and a small bag of essentials such as sun cream and drinking water. It felt so good lying naked in the sun, which always makes me feel frisky anyway. We spent some time examining our fellow holiday makers, who were made up of every type of human being. I was surprised to see how many families with young children were enjoying themselves on the beach.

We returned to our quarters as the sun cooled (although it was still pleasantly hot) and had a quickie before we went to the shops for some provisions. Arthur prepared a quick meal while I unpacked, then we had a quick nap before setting out to see what happened in the evenings.

We didn't go very far. As you might epect in France, everybody was smartly dressed, although not in anything conventional: women wore tops that were either see-through or allowed nipples to peek out, and skirts that either didn't cover their pussies or were sllit to the waist, or shorts or trousers that were so fine you could see the details of their pubic hair coiffure.

I slapped Arthur and blamed him that I had nothing suitable to wear, and he had the sense to avoid replying. I put on my lacy blouse and my shortest skirt, which even then I had to roll over at the waist to reduce to a suitable length, and Arthur wore his thin slacks. We promenaded around, as those who weren't in the restaurants seemed to be doing, nodding and smiling at people, but I felt so scruffy that I wouldn't go into any of the bars or cafes.

The next morning we rose late (despite my chagrin, we had enjoyed several hours of very wet sex) and then I did some serious shopping. The selection wasn't terrific but I managed to find some things for evening wear until I could get into town.

When I returned with my purchases, Arthur said he had been exploring, we had some lunch and wine and then he took me to see where he had been in the morning. As we walked along the beach away from the site centre I gradually realised that the number of families was decreasing, and the number of younger couples came to predominate. A bit more and I could see that simple sunbathing was not the onlsy activity: there was a lot of kissing and cuddling and - was that? yes, a couple fucking on the sand - and a girl sucking a man's cock!

Eventually Arthur spread our towels on the sand and sat down, saying:'I thought the scenery was nicer along here.' and grinning at me.

'It certainly is.' I agreed, and squatted down with my cunt over his face. He took the hint and stuck out his tongue. Oh boy, it felt good sitting on his face with people all around watching. Not that they stared: it was obviously so normal that it attracted only polite interest. I decided that I was going to enjoy this hoilday!

When I had come, as quietly as I could, I lay down beside him and we enjoyed the sun while I played with his handsome cock, trying to keep it hard to show it off to everyone on the beach. Arthur was very kind - he just lay there and let me have my fun.

Eventually he warned me, in a rather strained voice:'I am going to come soon unless you stop.' so I took him in my mouth and let him give me a tasty mouthful of spunk. As I lifted my head and smiled at him, I noticed two attractive young women settliing down near to us, who were smiling their approval at our activities. I was tempted to offer them the use of Arthur's cock but it seemed rather forward. Maybe if we got to know them better.....

In the evening, we went out in our new clothes: I had a white dress with a sort of halter neck - that did a poor job of holding in my boobs - and a very short skirt split all the way up the front, so that it only hid my cunt if I stood absolutely still (which I had no intention of doing). I got wet just thinking about wearing it, and when I looked in the wardrobe mirror I felt really turned on. I was going to jump Arthur but he persuaded me that it would be better after an evening of showing myself off, telling me how beautiful and desirable I looked. He makes me feel so good - or should that be bad?

I had found him some trousers that were even thinner than the pair he had brought from home, and nothing about his masculinity was left to the imagination. How is it that walking around with nothing on is not as exciting as wearing revealing clothes?

We went to a restaurant where the waitresses looked quite respectable until you looked closer and realised that their tight black dresses allowed the details of their slim French bodies to be discerned through the sheer fabric. The barmen wore bow ties but no shirts, and hopelessly inadequate little black shorts, so tight that you could see how well-endowed they were. The atmosphere was pleasant and friendly but heavy with sex, as women's breasts peeped out from, or through, their revealing clothes.

If the other women were feeling anything like I was, they maust have had to employ a special cleaner for the chair seats - I couldn't remember when I seemed to have leaked and dripped like this. Of course, as the evening wore on you could smell hot cunt wafting through the restaurant. Even tho' it was hot, nipples grew perky and the barmen's shorts grew tighter. The only thing the place needed was glass table tops, so that you could see what was on display beneath them.

After a while, a French accordianist appeared and began to play, and I realised that there was a tiny area for dancing. A few couples drifted onto it between courses and I discovered that there was a special style of dancing here: the women put their arms around their partner's necks and leaned back slightly, so that their breasts could be seen; and the men slid their hands around the women's waists and lifted their skirts, to show off their bums. There were some truly callipygian ladies there and I wondered if my bum would look a bit too chubby.

However, by the time we had enjoyed some delicious food and a few glasses of wine I was happy to get out there. I kept my legs parted as far as was appropriate, hoping that my long cunt flaps could be seen by diners behind me - they felt enormous that evening.

If Arthur tthought that delaying sex would help us to enjoy our romp in bed, he failed. We stumbled out of the restaurant, found the first shady corner, then he turned me round and bent me over and shoved his steel-hard cock straight up my cunt. I came immediately and then again when he sprayed boiling hot spunk into me a few minutes later. Fuck me, it was good!

Then we did go to bed and spent what felt like hours in appropriate soixante-neuf pleasures, in which position we fell asleep.

I awoke and opepned my eyes to see the best thing I could have hoped for - Arthur's cock. I sucked it to hardness and then he leapt of the bed,came back and lifted me onto all fours, lubricated my arse and slid his cock all the way in - and just held it there, flexing his mighty muscle occasionally. We had decided that this was a bit too much for the beach so we made the most of this occasion. I lay with my head on the pillow while he tortured me by making the most agonisingly slow movements of his cock. He seemed to be able to take minutes to slide his cock from just inside my arse until his bollocks were pressed against my cunt, and almost as long to slide it back again. I just lay with my head on the pillow, groaning while every sense in my body seemed concentrated on my bum.

And then I must have suffered sensory overload because I don't remember anything else until I became aware that he was in the bathroom taking a shower. I was still lying on the bed with my rear end in the air, and when I tried to move I discovered that my legs seemed to have siezed up. I sort of collapsed sideways and waited until I recovered, which I was still doing when he came into the bedroom.

'What did you do to me?' I asked,'I don't think I'll ever move again.'

He grinned:'You seemed to enjoy it at the time.' but he massaged my legs and helped me to the shower, which helped me to feel as if I might walk again. We had coffe and croissants (which he had gone and bought) and then made our way along the beach, where I seemed to spend a lot of the day dozing. Arthur amused himself by playing with my body while I lay inert, enjoying his relaxed attentions.

The rest of our stay went by in similar fashion. We tried other eating places but decided the one we had been to first was our favourite. We hung around in bars some evenings. I went into town but I didn't find anything better than my little whiite dress, so I washed it every morning, ready for the next outing.

There was one day when I wondered if Arthur was tiring of me, and had me wondering what I could do to spark his interest. He got up earlier than usual, and when he returned from the shops with fresh croissants he didn't come back to the bedroom as he usually did. When I went into the main room he was reading a book, and hardly bothered to greet me. Piqued, I did every thing I could think of to notice me: I bent over to display my juicy cunt to him; I sat in a chair with one foot on the seat, trying to make him look at my female charms - all to no avail.

On the beach he seemed more interested in the other women than me, and was quiter than normal. He responded to what I said but made no effort to maintain a conversation. By the time we went to the restaurant I was worried, angry and frustrated as hell, mainly because we hadn't fucked, or hardly touched, for more than twelve hours and like any addict I was suffering withdrawal symptoms. During dinner he was polite but distant and I began to worry if our holiday was going to be a disaster.

We got back to our cabin and I pointedly asked him if there was anything he wanted and he said, offhandedly:'No thanks.'

I turned away and before I realised he had stepped up behind me and slid his hands around me, under my halter top, to my tits - and my body burst into flames.

I couldn't believe that so simple a gesture could have me so instantly turned on: my heart pounded, it was difficult to breathe, my nipples shot to attention and my cunt was on fire and soaking wet at the same time. And all he was doing was stroking my boobs.

He pulled down my dress, to leave me naked, lifted me in his arms (It's sounds silly but that turned me on even more) and laid me on the bed. Still fully dressed, he stroked me all over, setting my skin ablaze and my nerve endings jangling. And then he wentr over me again with his tongue. Normally this would have had me writhing about but by now I was in shock, my bones had melted and I was incapable of anything ecept sensation.

Eventually he settled between my legs and started on my cunt and clitoris. I came fast and hard, then while I was still recovering from it I felt another orgasm building, and no sooner had that one crashed over me than a third was on its way. I was gripping the bedclothes as if to stop me flying away and panting like a marathon runner to try and get enough breath into my lungs.

After the third time, he raised his head and looked at me with an epression I could only think of as evil. He stood up and undressed, casually but very slowly, and it was the most incredible turn on. I watched every part of him come gradually into view until at last he slid down his pants and I could feast my eyes on his cock, standing proud and angry.

Then he climbed over me and........and........nothing. He lay there still and quiet and I nearly went mad. I pushed my hiips up at him and it felt as if my cunt lips were reaching out to try and suck his cock into me.

'Please.' I pleaded desperately.

'Please what?' he teased.

'Please fuck me.' I wailed.

'Isn't that a bit greedy?'

'For fuck's sake Arthur, you bastard, I need fucking. If you don't I think I'll go mad!'. I was screaming now.

And then he slid his cock into me and I did go mad. I groaned and threw my arms and legs around him and lifted my hips off the bed in order to make sure that every bit of that glorious cock was inside me. My cunt squeezed around him to keep him there.

Then he started to move, smoothly and firmly and I went from purgatory to paradise. My cunt throbbed with pleasure and my boobs felt as if they were swelling with excitement. I came again but he just went on and the excitement built to climax again, and again, and impossibly again.

Arthur had told me that being circumcised had de-sensitised his cock but until that night I hadn't realised just what that meant. He kept on and on and on, stopping infrequently to let his excitement subside but never coming. I made up for that by coming so many times - or was it one long orgasm eventually?

I only know that the sky was lightening before he eventually let go, and what felt like a gallon of spunk poured into my battered cunt. And then he rolled off me and we both fell into an exhausted, but highly satisfied, sleep.

When I awoke the shower was running and I needed a pee. I swung my legs off the bad - and walked to the loo like John Wayne. My legs were aching and my cunt was so sore I thought it might take days to recover. I suspected that my bum was going to take a pounding for a while - and I couldn't believe it when my promiscuous body felt excited by the idea. I wondered for a moment if I was turning into a nymphomaniac, then realised that I was still strictly momogamous, it was just that I didn't seem able to get enough of Arthur and his magical sword. I made it to the bathroom and Arthur grinned at me through the water.

I grinned back and asked:'How's Excalibur this morning?'

He looked puzzled:'Sorry.'

I pointed to his weapon:'Arthur's sword - Excalibur.' He laughed but I could see pride on his face.

I pretended to glower at Him:'That thing nearly stabbed me to death last night!'

'You'll recover.' he promised.

'I know.' I stood up from the loo, flushed it and joined him in the shower's healing water.

We had met and chatted with some Brits but not joined up with anybody so we were surprised to receive an invitation to a party on our last night. It was being held in a villa near our camp and we were told it was 'jewellery only' which seemed a bit odd but we decided to go along with it. We bought Arthur a cheap shell necklace and me a long string of red glass beads: it was so long that even when I made a knot to sit between my breasts it hung down to my tummy. Ian said it looked suggestive, which was good I thought. I also found a pair of earings of similar style that were so long they brushed my shoulders.

When we were ready to go Arthur looked at the end of the necklace swaying across my body and suggested a quickie but I refused - I had another idea in mind. When we got near the villa I stopped him, dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth. He didn't object but was startled when I only worked on Excalibur until it was nice and hard, then stood up, took his hand and said:'Right, let's party.' He pointed his hand at his erection and asked:'Isn't this a bit..um?'

I grinned at him and urged him along, before his cock had time to deflate.

When our hosts greeted us the husband looked slightly surprised but his wife smiled and said:'Are you pleased to see me or....' and any embarrassment left Arthur. We found some drinks and socialised: any time that his cock looked like flagging I stroked it a few times and it came back to attention.

I began to see what 'jewellery only' meant because most of the women had nipple rings and other piercings and they had decorated these with dangly earrings or similar. A few of the men had nipple decorations but even more had sparkly things hanging from foreskin rings. I have never felt the urge to mutilate myself or Arthur (all right, I have pierced ears) although he did once suggest that I pierced my navel, but some of the decorations on these women looked sexy.

Not as sexy as my Arthur. After a while I noticed some other women following my example and encouraging their men to wear erections and make them look better. The stroking and fondling grew less surreptitious and the atmosphere became more sexy. I knew that I had added something to the occasion when I went off to find some nibbles and the woman Arthur and I were talking to took his cock in her hand and said:'It's okay dear, I'll look after this for you while you're gone.'

Of course, it wasn't long before men were fondling partners too: hands roamed over bums and between legs and, for the first time I could remember, the hum of conversation grew softer instead of louder as the alcohol depressed inhibitions. I knew that things were going to get even more intimate when I saw a woman, whose tits were being stroked by a man standing behind her, stand up on tip toe and lean forward while the man fiddled between her buttocks: I couldn't see any details but I was fairly sure that a hard cock had just slid into a juicy cunt.

More of this kind of activity began to develop and Arthur's cock needed less of my fondling to stay stiff. We were standing without talking to anyone else when I noticed a young girl standing near our hostess, looking a bit lonely without anyone else of her age there. I nudged Arthur and nodded towards her and he understood immediately what I meant.

He went to fill his glass and then approached the girl from her side, so he wouldn't alarm her. I saw him speak and she responded. He went on chatting until she looked down at his cock, swallowed nervously and then leant close to him to say something so it would not be overheard. He smiled back and nodded and her hand crept out tentatively to touch his cock. He kept on chatting anad her hand grew more bold, until she had it wrapped around his cock and was moving it gently up and down.

I was feeling so proud of him, and turned on by watching, and then I was approached by a rather overweight man who obviously wanted me to do something similar to him. I excused myself to go to the loo and hid there for as long as was reasonable, then returned to the party, to see Arthur and the girl disappearing into another room. I skirted the other guests and followed them, to find her on her knees with her head bobbing on Arthur's cock. My cunt quivered and I felt it juicing up.

She was not very experienced, I could see, but Arthur didn't complain. I soon noticed that he was nearing orgasm and called warningly:'Arthur.' but he said:'It's all right.' then moved her gently back from his cock, and when she looked up at him he stroked Excalibur until it sprayed his creamy cum over her neck and chest.

You could tell he was artistic - he managed to produce an almost perfect pearl necklace. Strings and blobs decorated her neck and led down to a pendant between her small tits. She shivered with pleasure and looked down. When she saw what he had done a grin of delight almost split her face and she stood up and walked proudly back to the party to display her decoration.