A Pregnant Nudist Pt. 01

Having largely exhausted the outdoor sights, I wandered into a small, bright blue bungalow on the far side of the compound. Overwhelmed by a plethora of strong emotions and racing thoughts, I leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths, cradling my belly in both arms. Just as I let my eyes close, a voice from an open door to my left made me jump and shriek. "All right in there?" I slowly and embarrassedly peaked around the doorway. A darkly bearded man was standing on a ladder working on an overhead light's wiring, the first fully-clothed individual I'd seen since Vivienne made her initial introduction. He smiled at me; he was very handsome. "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. Name's Cliff." He finished screwing the light bulb back in and climbed back to the floor, then turned on the fixed light via the wall switch.

"Sam," I responded with a smile.

"Just get here?" As he asked he pulled off his work boots, socks, jeans, t-shirt, and boxers.

"Y-yes," I muttered, feeling myself blush amidst the nudity for the first time since I arrived at the nudist colony. Clothes removed, I found Cliff even more attractive than I had when first viewing him engaged in manual labor. Dark hair nicely covered most of his chest, which had just enough definition to be appealing but not intimidating. Nice, toned legs and...He had a nice cock. I'm not sure why I'm pretending my eyes went to torso or limbs. Not so at all: I was fully focused on his crotch. He looked great down there. Circumcised, well-maintained pubic hair, more-than-respectable flaccid length and girth. I didn't mean to stare...but that didn't stop me from staring.

He chuckled after allowing to gawk for several seconds, then dropped his head a little to pointedly meet my eyes. "You all right, Sam?"

I blushed even more as I self-consciously rubbed my belly with both hands. "Y-yes...Yes. I'm sorry, Cliff. Really not used to the vibe here just yet, I'll admit." Cliff kindly put my awkwardness aside, simply going about putting away his tools and clothes in his knapsack. "I'm so impressed," I couldn't help myself from saying, unsure of exactly why I felt so quickly at ease with this naked stranger, "with the way you all just go about your business, unconcerned with it all. No one has acted uncomfortable around me, no one has asked about my pregnancy, no one has pressured me to lose my clothing..."

"Well, should we be uncomfortable around you?" Cliff interrupted, looking genuinely curious.

"No! No, of course not. It's great, everyone so free and non-judgmental."

"And are you uncomfortable with your pregnancy?" He continued his gentle teasing.

"Well, no...I'm not, but I am uncomfortable with the way ignorant people treat a single expectant mother. With the way I'm apparently supposed to feel ashamed of myself for something I'm thrilled about, for physical changes that I actually find incredibly exciting." I felt myself getting emotional, carried away. I looked at the floor for a few moments. My hands returned to my bump for some purposeful centering, and I took two long, deep breaths before my eyes returned to Cliff's. He continued.

"And the clothes?"

His question hung in the air for a minute, clearly suggesting a leap I guess I hadn't been unselfconscious enough to make up to this point. I found what they were doing admirable, beautiful; I saw no shame in them, nor felt any from them. What, exactly, were my remaining hang-ups? "Yeah...the clothes," I finally managed. "I was curious enough to come check this place out, after all. I've been nothing but impressed. I want to celebrate and respect my body, sure, I just..." He let me twist in the awkward silence for an amount of time I found almost physically painful: the man was willing to lead this knocked-up horse to water, but he would not make her drink. "Okay."

Cliff's eyebrows went up about as far as a human's could. "'Okay'?"

"Yeah, I'll strip down."

"I wasn't trying to get you to agree or anything." He sounded defensive. "Just questioning, not persuading."

"And if you did persuade me?" I felt ready to fuck with him now, and greatly enjoyed this turning of the tables.

"No, it's..." It was nice to hear him stammer now; I even detected a bit of pink on his stubbled cheek. "It's not like that. Just posing a question, I don't want...I mean, it's not that I don't want, but..."

"Sorry, you do or do not want to see me naked?" I pointedly stroked my belly through my casual sweatsuit.

"You...Christ. It's not about that. I don't not want to see you, but I would never pressure you to..." He was getting genuinely flustered, and I started to feel a bit guilty.

"Oh, I know, Cliff. I'm sorry, I was just trying to mess with you a little bit. Went too far, maybe. I'm not trying to imply anything about your motives or anything. I'm really just getting comfortable, joking around, trying to build a little rapport with you before I get naked around strangers. You've been very welcoming, and I appreciate it. Sorry if my attempts to break the tension for myself got a bit out of hand..."

He smiled widely. "Not too used to your type around here. Mostly earnestness from everyone at Friendly Valley, not so much sarcasm. It's nice to have you here, Sam."

I smiled back. "Nice to be here, Cliff. You ready? I'm pretty pregnant..." My fingers grabbed the bottom edge of my sweatshirt in anticipation of his answer, starting to peel it off the underside of my belly.

"We've seen it all around here," he assured me. I slipped out of my shoes. Quickly so as not to lose my brave, I pulled off my sweatshirt, stepped out of my sweatpants, unhooked my bra, and yanked down my panties. I slipped my shoes back on, not wanting to walk around a bunch of ramshackle buildings and meadows fully unprotected. I hadn't suddenly gone full hippie or anything, after all.

Cliff, betraying his assurances of being universally agnostic about the bodies around him, looked awestruck by my full pregnant physique. He couldn't seem to restrain his eyes as they slowly traveled from my head to my toes, then back again. "Okay, Cliff?" I couldn't help but tease a bit once more.

He shook his head rapidly back and forth for a second or two as he loudly blew the air from his mouth. "Yes! Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, Sam. You're...well, you're a real sight. Respectfully and recognizing your physical autonomy and human dignity, of course."

"Of course." I smiled, blushing again myself at these chivalrous and overly formal declarations. "Well, I'm going to go check this place out some more. I'm sure you have some other manly chores to complete?"

"Sure do. I'll see you later, Sam." As I left him to go back outside, I found myself deeply hoping he really would see me later. I shook my silly romantic notions out of my head as I entered the sunlight with one protective palm over the center of my exposed bump. I felt no urge to cover bust or genitals, curiously enough. Only the belly felt like it needed watching over; extra love and attention, anyway. Even with the chilly air, the day's bright sun kept me warm enough that I didn't find myself missing my clothing in the least.

Rather than just gawk at genitalia and awkwardly roam the grounds, I tried to make my nude self useful. I helped hang up some wet laundry on clotheslines, cradling my belly with my right arm as I bent down to grab garments from their buckets. A woman kindly objected to the exertion, which I shrugged off, assuring her I preferred to keep my expanding body comfortably stretched out. She didn't ask any follow-up questions about the pregnancy, in stark contrast to how every single person outside this nudist colony seemed to take it as their sacred duty to comment on my condition. Here, the conversations about the gestation and its accompanying bump came from me and only me. And, I was surprised to find, I was initiating those conversations frequently and happily.

I held the bump in both hands, softly jostling it up and down in front of my naked new friends as I told them how excited and far along I was. About how difficult the morning sickness had been in my first trimester. About how much my breasts and nipples had changed, facts hardly worth obscuring when such typically-private body parts were right in front of these people. I was taken aback at how open I was being, at how much I enjoyed this sort of attention when I was the one starting it. My excitement hadn't waned throughout the experience of this pregnancy, but it had felt sadly dampened by the intrusive tone of other folks' unwanted involvement. Now, it felt like I could finally fully enjoy my own vibes, both physically and emotionally. It felt great to share it with respectful folks. Who were all nude...as I was. Weird day, this was turning out to be.

Time got away from me in my elation amongst this lovely community. Eventually, I was swept up in the movement of all these bodies to the communal dining area, at which we enjoyed a lovely lentil soup for dinner. It was less uncomfortable than I might've guessed it would be to have a meal with several dozen people without an article of clothing between them. After the leisurely meal, we exited the mess hall to a newly dark night. A few folks were in the process of tending a sizable bonfire, already roaring within a ring of wooden lawn chairs. I couldn't help but roll my eyes when I saw the plethora of small bongos and the like placed on the grass in between the chairs: it was a literal goddamn drum circle.

While I would've instantly written such things written off as "hippie nonsense" in the past, this crunchy nude community had utterly won me over today, so I decided to really try to give them the benefit of the doubt. I never would have guessed I'd be so thoroughly smitten with nudism before the past few hours, after all: maybe another oft-mocked social ritual could be enjoyable, too. Even unfinished, this large fire was enough to warm me adequately in the newly-fallen darkness. I took a seat, grateful that the wood was so well-smoothed that I didn't have to give a second thought to placing my hormone-swollen vulva directly atop it. Carefully and with some embarrassment, I reached to my left and picked up a tambourine as I saw all those around me grabbing their percussive instruments.

It began slowly, arrhythmically. People struck their drums, hooted occasionally, and danced awkwardly in their chairs. The first pleasure I managed to find was how nice it was to see the flames' light flickering on moonlit flesh. I found myself increasingly lost in the abstract, animalistic sights of the evening just as the drumming increased in volume and cohered in rhythm. I'd been halfheartedly slapping my tambourine five or six times a minute; without consciously intending to, I soon found myself enthusiastically joining the beat with everyone around me. Soon there was a jolt from within me, the baby apparently responding to the music surrounding its womb. I put the tambourine on my thigh to rub my belly with both hands. The fetus was sporadically moving in time with the drumming. I kept one hand on my bump; the other picked the tambourine up, hitting it against my thigh to keep contributing to the noise surrounding me. The rhythm gradually sped up, the flames gradually grew, the volume gradually increased, and my belly gradually gyrated more and more. We all ended up standing, too caught up in the proceedings not to rise to our feet. It was all utterly delightful.

I'm not sure how much of this reverie passed before I noticed my bearded friend Cliff across the bonfire: time had ceased to mean much within the fervor. Our eyes met after just a moment. He smiled through his rhythmic shouting as he slapped his bongo. I smiled back, left hand massaging the bottom of my belly as the right kept time with the tambourine against my thick pregnant hip. I kept staring at Cliff, the flames licking up into my field of vision. Sometimes our gazes stayed locked, sometimes one or both of our eyes drifted down to genitalia or other fun physical attractions. Soon, I could make out his growing hard-on.

The next time my eye caught his, I grinned, raised my eyebrows and pointedly tilted my whole head down toward his crotch to make it clear I'd noticed the erection. He understood my nonverbal communication, smiling and shrugging. I rubbed my bump a bit more sensuously as I maintained eye contact. His cock became further engorged. I looked behind my right shoulder at a small dormitory building, then met his eyes again and jerked my head toward it with my eyes widened. He seemed to understand this motion, too, as he placed his drum back on his chair and started heading around the back of the circle toward the waiting beds I'd suggested. I ducked out and met him inside.

We started making out as soon as we were safely hidden from the rest of the group, both his hands zipping straight onto my fire-warmed belly at the first opportunity. I pulled him back with me toward a bed without ever taking my tongue out of his mouth. Having achieved my goal of having him seated on the side of a bed, I was instantly on my knees with his cock sliding between my lips. His moans were almost loud enough to compete with the ruckus outside as he rested his back on the bed. I enjoyed his cock: it tasted inoffensive and had very respectable girth and length without reaching a level that made my jaw ache too quickly. As he somehow managed to get even harder and more engorged in my mouth, I only blew him for a minute or two before we moved on: I obviously had to make sure I got to experience him inside me before he blew his load. I stood up, planning to fuck him right there.

He outmaneuvered me, though, getting to his knees in front of where I stood and beginning his own oral performance. Even through this section of our act together, his hands managed to stay glued to my tight drum of a midsection. His head was really shoving into me to allow for optimal tongue-to-pussy access: his forehead pushing an inch into the lower reaches of my lower belly, his nose directly inhaling the musk of my pubic hair, his lips easily ensconcing my clit. I moaned a great deal myself, just barely audible over the ever-crescendoing roar outside. His technique was excellent, alternating between sucking, gentle biting, and various intensities of tongue maneuvers. One of my hands roughly tweaked my right nipple, the other joined both of his on my heaving belly. I climaxed within a few minutes, belly contracting intensely under three hands as my shrieks of pleasure nearly won out over the competing sounds of the drum circle.

I took a moment to recover from the intense orgasm, elbows bent with hands resting on knees and belly hanging down heavily. "All right," I said once my breath had calmed a bit, "would you like to fuck me now, Cliff?" I presented myself to him, standing facing the bed as I leaned and put my forearms on the mattress. My belly hung down enough to just brush the top of the comforter. I spread my legs a tiny bit with some minor foot adjustments, and felt him preparing behind me. He entered me slowly and carefully, if anything a bit too respectful of my "delicate condition." The thrusts were slow but thorough, the majority of his cock managing its way in each time. He alternately massaged tits and belly from behind, though even his long arms were barely up to the task of making it around my pregnant girth.

After a minute or two of over-cautious fucking, I made my preferences clear: "Harder." He obliged, humping with more rapidity and less gentleness from that point forward. I grunted with each impact of his upper thighs against my swollen ass, keeping myself unnecessarily quiet as all the other nudists were still deep in the thrall of the fire and rhythm. I noticed Cliff, too, seemed to still be feeling the effects of the drumming out there, his internal thrusts roughly matching the external beat. Several more harder-fucking minutes passed and I felt his pace getting more erratic; he paused, apparently also wishing to delay orgasm a little while longer. I twisted around halfway to look at him and make a suggestion: "Mind if I hop on for a ride?"

He didn't; he got on his back on the twin bed immediately, cunt-sticky dick remaining rigid in anticipation of my return to it. I heaved myself up onto the bed, holding my weighty belly in one arm as I swung a leg over his waist to position my pussy to take him in. Our genitalia properly aligned, I slowly lowered my crotch until I had him balls deep. His hands supported the bottom of my bump as I rocked on top him, a welcome lifting of some of the heavy load I was constantly carrying. We moaned and moaned as we went, my movements slow and methodical with gestational exhaustion and gravid clumsiness. He managed to lower and raise his groin in a pattern opposite my movements, giving us a few more inches to develop some forceful momentum in our humping. I couldn't hear the sounds of fleshy impact over the drum circle outside, but I imagine they would've been clearly audible in most other situation.

The speed and intensity gradually increased until I was being thrown up and out of his lap by an inch or two with each thrust from below me. We unavoidably became more erratic, too, as we approached a blissful simultaneous climax. I could feel his cock pulsing with the start of ejaculation as my cunt clenched tightly over it. It sounded like the folks outside were reaching a climax of intensity and volume just as we screeched together in ecstasy, managing to drown them out at least within this small building. We kept going for as long as his cock remained rigid enough to stay in me. I felt his cum drip down to coat the entirety of my pubic region, even spreading to my upper thighs and much of my ass. My hormone-enhanced pussy had gotten so overflowingly wet that my fluids had soaked the entirety of his pubic hair by the end of the fucking. What a beautiful mess we'd become together.

He gave me room to lay next to him on the narrow twin bed then got in close to spoon me, our fluid-drenched bodies colliding far more gently now as he cradled my sweaty belly from behind. I felt like I was home. I didn't realize I drifted off till he gently jostled me awake. "What is it?" I managed sleepily.

"You fell asleep, Sam. Half hour ago, maybe." I was surprised to learn this, even more surprised the drumming was somehow still going on outside.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Do we need to get out of here?"

"No, no...just..." He peeled himself off my side and looked at his crotch; I followed his gaze to see his once-again-hard dick.

"You woke me up so you could fuck me again?"

"...yes." He looked a bit sheepish at the admission.

"Great! Climb aboard!" He looked very happy indeed at my enthusiastic invitation, wasting no time in assuming the missionary position above me. My bump necessitated his being just a bit careful: if he fully relaxed his torso onto mine as one might with a non-expectant partner, he might cause some discomfort in both me and the baby. The mild pressure he did put on the belly as he leaned over me was slight but pleasant, enough to let him fuck me well and function as a sort of nurturing hug as he did so. With one hand keeping his body supported on the bed, he used the other to grasp my tits and bump, moves he seemed to enjoy returning to throughout our multi-position tryst. His fucking was less gentle this time than it had been in our other positions, his enthusiasm overcoming the fact that it's not so easy for a man to cum twice in well under an hour.

We violently shook the entire bed with our rocking. On those brief and rare moments when our lower bodies parted a bit, I could feel the sticky fluids of our last session resisting the separation. We were very warm, smelling muskier and muskier, and completely lost in the act. Due to the refractory period he was working his way through, he was able to fuck me for a solid ten or twelve minutes this round. Finally, his thrusts once again turned more erratic as climax inexorably approached. He pulled out, positioning his cock right over my belly as he shot without the need of a single additional stroke: he just held the base and exploded. The pearls of cum were many and shot far onto me, clearing my newly-outie belly button by several inches. I absolutely loved the look of my white-flecked belly. I picked up his spent cock and dragged it through his load, creating a pleasing striped pattern on my bump. We were both lost in the sight for a minute or two, gross and sexy and intimate and soundtracked by the celebratory rhythms leaking in from outside.