He Couldn't Say No Ch. 09

This is the last in the series of stories about the adventures of the man who couldn't say "no." Undoubtedly, he has many more stories that could be told, but there comes a time when the author needs to move on to other characters and other situations. This chapter contains a brief epilogue to tie up a few loose ends.

I was puttering about in the kitchen of my Walnut creek home on a Sunday afternoon, preparing dinner for my mother and her friend Lisa. As you may recall after my Dad passed my mother had moved out of my childhood home in Walnut Creek and informally turned it over to me while she lived with her lover, Lisa, in Lisa's big house in North Berkeley. In the summer of 1969 Mom, Lisa, and a woman I knew much later as Mrs. E were lovers who shared the North Berkeley house. Oh and my father was there too. I was born 9 months later. After 1969, my father and mother married, and the rest of the group went on to lead separate lives, although it has never been clear to me just how often they may have had "reunions" of the summer of 69 group. The other detail is that when I was 18 I had love affairs with each of Mrs. E (then our next door neighbor) and Lisa. It's complicated (and no, I never did it with my Mom—only her lovers).

But now I live in the Walnut Creek house, and Mom and Lisa are coming to dinner. They don't believe I can cook. The flank steak has been soaking up the marinade for several hours and the ratatouille is bubbling nicely on the stove. Lisa is bringing the wine, and Mom is bringing the pie (that's what Moms do, isn't it?). Right now it's time to retreat to the back porch with a glass of Scotch and savor the smell of the hickory chips on the grill while I await my guests.

When I spoke to Lisa recently she mentioned that she and Mom had been up in Marin a few days ago at a clothing optional beach they both enjoy (even 70 year-olds can enjoy being naked on the beach when the weather is warm). As I sat sipping my Scotch I remembered the beach Lisa was telling me about and an experience I had there in my mid-30s when I was between wives one and two:

My first wife was a fan of nude sunbathing, especially on a public beach, so this particular beach in Marin was one of our favorite getaways when the weather was good. I had become comfortable with nudity and, even though the marriage was gone, I decided to take a few days off during a lovely, warm October to spend a few days up in Marin at my favorite nude beach. I took a couple of beach towels, sun block, a good book, and a few beers in a cooler—all the things you need for a trip to the beach except a swim suit. Since I planned to be there for a few days, I made arrangements to use my ex-brother-in-law's cottage in Bodega. He and I were on remarkably good terms given our status as ex-brothers-in-law, so there was no problem in getting his cottage for a few days.

There were quite a few people on the beach, it being a Sunday afternoon, and since the beach was clothing optional, people were sunbathing and strolling the beach in just about every level of dress or undress physically possible. The only thing missing was some Richard Nixon type in a dark blue suit and freshly shined oxfords.

I was lying (clothed only in dark glasses as was my custom at this beach) propped up against a log, ostensibly reading a book, but mostly watching people stroll by, while I listened to the lulling drone of the surf. There was a an off-shore breeze and it was warm enough so that it was comfortable to be naked. I was well past the trauma of my recent divorce (the first one is the hardest, trust me). To sum it up, I was feeling pretty good about life at the moment. I was even managing to ignore the fact that I was going to have to fly to Minnesota the following week where they were already test driving winter.

I watched a pair of ladies in their mid-thirties, as best I could guess, amble by. They were wearing shorts and loose t-shirts, not exactly beach wear and plenty of coverage, at least for this beach. But what the hell, the rule here is clothing optional, and that means you can wear clothes, or not, as you choose.

Now one of the things you need to understand about Northern California beaches is that just because the beach is warm enough to sunbathe nude on, doesn't mean the water is warm. The water on the Northern California coast is brought to you by something called the California Current which is delivering water directly from the depths of the North Pacific. It is cold. All the time.

Apparently these two ladies were unaware of just how cold the surf at this beach could be. As they got a bit farther down the beach, I could see them starting to horse around. The blonde pushed the brunette into the surf with a predictable screech as she hit the cold water. She got to her feet (actually twice because she was decked by a wave the first time) and went after her friend, eventually dragging her into the surf with more screaming about the cold water. It also took her friend two tries to get up. The surf can be rough here.

They were laughing good naturedly as they came walking back toward me, but both were staying well away from the surf, having had enough of the cold water, and perhaps not quite trusting each other. As they walked up to me I could see that the wind was chilling both of them.

"Surf a little cold?" I asked.

The dishwater blonde looked over at me and smiled and said, "Yeah, we didn't quite expect that. We're from South Carolina."

"Here's an extra towel. It'll help if you dry off."

They took turns toweling down, and then draped my towel on the log. I could tell the wind was still biting as it blew through their soggy clothes.

"If you want you can huddle down here behind this log. It's better if you can get out of the wind. Spread the towel out on the sand next to me here."

"But it will get all covered with sand," the brunette said. She and her friend had the most delightful southern drawl. It sounds so nice to me when it comes from a woman. When it comes from a man it puts me on guard. What is it this guy wants with all this soft talk? Irrational, I know.

"Not a problem I'll drape it over a rail at my brother-in-law's place in Bodega tonight, and in the morning, I'll just shake it off."

They looked at each other. The blonde nodded, and they spread out the towel and sat down.

"Care for a beer?" I asked.

"Oh we can't take your beer," the brunette said.

"I'm not going to drink it all this afternoon, so it'll just get warm. Besides, I have more back at the beach house in Bodega."

They each took a beer and introduced themselves as Cindy (the blonde) and Karen (the brunette).

"Do you live here," Cindy asked.

"No not here. I live in Palo Alto, when I'm not on an airplane. The beach house in Bodega belongs to my brother-in-law, or ex-brother-in-law I should say."

"And you still get along?" Cindy asked.

"Sure. It's my ex-wife that was the problem." I paused for a moment, "Well, she might say I was the problem."

The women laughed at my honesty.

"Cindy is my ex-sister-in-law," Karen said. "We're great friends. It was her brother that was the problem."

Cindy shrugged—kind of a "What can I say shrug." She was quiet for a moment and then said, "Yeah, he was an asshole."

"Still is," Karen said.

Cindy nodded in agreement.

"Are you girls warming up," I asked.

"Brrrrr. Not really,"

"Don't take this the wrong way," I said "but if you took those wet clothes off and put them on the log to dry, you will actually get warm quicker."

Karen gave me a look, that said, "What kind of right way is there to take a suggestion that we take our clothes off?"

Cindy, on the other hand, said, "What the hell. It's a nude beach. He might be right."

She stood up and peeled all her clothes off and spread them out on the top of the log to dry. Then she dropped back down on to the beach towel. She started to cuddle up to Karen but then said, "Oh burr, you're all wet. Get those soggy clothes off."

"Cindy," Karen said, "You're naked. How can you do that?"

"It's a nude beach," Cindy shrugged.

"She has a point," I said. "And you would be warmer without those soggy clothes on."

Karen looked at me with her pervert look again, but this time I noticed her momentary distraction when her vision paused on my prick. I wasn't aroused—well maybe just a little more than I had been when they walked by the first time. There was a naked girl sitting next to me now. What would you expect? And even when I'm not aroused, I still have a pretty good sized prick. She looked quickly away when she realized I had caught her ogling my goods.

Cindy had her head turned away from us looking down the beach while Karen was trying, and failing, to discreetly ogle my still slowly growing prick. It was the discreet part of the effort that was failing.

Karen leaned over and whispered something in Cindy's ear. She turned back towards me trying to get non-obvious look at my equipment. Karen had apparently made a comment about the size of my dick.

There was more whispering and now both women were openly staring at my groin. I was leaning back, my hands behind my head, ostensibly looking at not much of anything through my dark glasses, but I could tell they were staring at my cock.

"All right," Karen said. "I'll take my clothes off." She stood up and quickly stripped down, spreading her things next to her friend's on the top of the log.

I took a good long look at her as she spread her wet clothes on the log She was about medium height and just a little plump. Just the kind of plump I liked. Her ass was nice and round perched atop legs that I'm sure she wished could have been slimmer but looked just perfect to me for lying between while I licked her pussy and used my hands to maul her good sized breasts. The thought caused my still growing cock to twitch. She had her back side to me when she bent to pick up her soggy clothes to spread them on the log to dry. Her posture gave me a good view of her fleshy pussy lips and of her breasts which hung down from her chest as she leaned forward. I was thinking seriously un-clean thought about those breasts. My cock twitched again. Cindy was watching it intently.

Karen sat down next to her friend, still maintaining silence, but periodically giving my enlarged pecker a look.

Cindy chuckled. "Something changed your mind, dear?"

"What? No. I was just cold. Hope this works."

"How long since your divorce, Karen?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Two years."

"Three for me."

"Two blissful years," she repeated.

"Amen to that sister," Cindy said. "My brother is an asshole."

"Well, I see you two are in agreement on that point," I said. "My ex-wife would probably agree with you."

"Really? You don't look like an asshole," Karen said.

"Thank you. I don't feel like one either. I mean, it's not like I hit her or yelled a lot or anything."

"Rich did," both women said in unison.

"Karen's ex?"

"Yes."

"Not good," I said.

"So what did you do to be such an asshole," Karen asked.

I shrugged, "I was gone a lot on business."

Cindy laughed. "I know some women who would like to see their husbands gone more."

"And I cheated with other women a lot."

"Okay," Karen said. "That's not hitting and yelling, but it's not good."

"Speak for yourself," Cindy said.

"Cindy and her husband have an 'understanding,'" Karen explained.

"An understanding?" I asked

"Yes, they both cheat and neither one objects, so long as the cheater tells her partner all the juicy details."

"Oh. We call that an open marriage here in California."

"We call it adultery in South Carolina,"

"Grumble if you like Karen, but it works for us."

"I see," I said, turning my head to look at Cindy. "How's that going for you?"

"Fine."

"That's what pisses me off about you Cindy," Karen said with a laugh. "I married your asshole brother and tried to be really straight about things. I turned down a bunch of men that hit on me, and all I got for my trouble was a drunk who liked to slap me around and yell. You and your husband play around all the time and then go home and tell each other about it while you screw each other silly. I should have married your husband."

"You can screw him if you like, but I'm not trading him in."

"So you said no, eh?" I asked Karen.

"Yeah, a lot."

"I can see why you needed too. You're very attractive." I let my look linger over her breasts—not huge but still, sizeable and well-shaped, with large dark nipples that were swollen, perhaps from the cold weather and perhaps from her sneak peeks at my member. They were much better than her sister-in law whose breasts were pretty small by anyone's standards.

"Thank you."

"But I have a question if you don't mind. How did you do that—say 'no' all the time I mean? Especially when your husband was being abusive at home?"

She shrugged.

"See that's my problem. I just don't seem to be able to say no."

That got Cindy's attention. She looked at me and said, "Really?" I could see the wheels spinning in her head. I also noticed the nipples on her tiny tits getting harder.

"Cindy, what are you thinking?" her sister-in-law asked.

"Oh nothing," Cindy responded.

"Oh bullshit. I know you better than that. You have that look on your face. The one you get when you think you've found a way to get laid by some stranger so you can go home and tell your husband about it."

Cindy was silent, but I could see that she was now staring openly at my dick. The conversation had added girth and length to it and it was lying down the side of my leg like a log. Karen was looking too, but just in quick peeks, not openly staring like Cindy.

"Cindy," Karen said, drawing the name out and pushing for a response to her question.

Cindy seemed to reach a decision. Ignoring her sister-in-law she turned to me and said, "So, if I said, 'Let's go behind those dunes and screw,' you wouldn't say no?"

"Well, it's getting late and the beach is clearing out, so we probably wouldn't get caught."

"Is that a yes?"

"It's not a no," I said, "but were you asking? I try not to respond to hypothetical questions, at least not on that issue."

"Let's go," she said, rising to her feet. "Karen, you can keep watch. We won't be gone too long. Whistle loud if someone is coming."

I rose to my feet and said, "Okay, let's go." My dick was mostly engorged, but not fully erect, just hanging down between my legs, swinging as I moved. I couldn't see much downside in not saying no in this circumstance.

Karen spoke up as I stood waiting for her friend, "Cindy! You're just going to leave me here sitting naked on the beach while you go have sex with this guy behind the dunes?"

Cindy reached out and put her hand under my dick lifting it up so Karen could get a good view. "Look at this," she said. "You should be coming with us."

Karen laughed. "Go ahead you slut. I'll stand guard. He does have a big dick."

I followed Cindy into the dunes, a beach towel thrown over my shoulder. God, she has a cute ass I thought. No tits, but . . .

We walked a couple of dunes back from the beach, and then Cindy turned and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. A long, wet, sloppy delicious kiss. By now my dick was fully erect and mashed against her belly.

Eventually I broke the kiss and spread out the beach towel. The sun was warm here in the shelter of the dunes.

"Lay down on your back. I want to ride that big thing," she said.

As soon as I was on my back, Cindy dropped to her knees alongside me and engulfed my cock with her mouth. She spent the next few minutes sucking and using her talented tongue to literally fondle my cock. Then she rose up to her knees, apparently satisfied I was big enough and hard enough. She swung a leg over my torso and positioned herself so she was hovering just over my erect dick.

"God you're big," she said. "I hope you can fit."

"Just take it nice and slow," I said. "Are you wet?"

"Fuck yes."

She had her hand on my cock now and was dragging the head up and down her slit. She gasped every time the head hit her clit. She hadn't lied. She was very wet.

At first the head of my cock didn't want to go in, but when it slid past the muscles guarding the entrance to her cunt. She gasped a little.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. . . Yes . . . but it's a really good hurt. Don't push. Let me work it in."

I reached up and begin massaging her tits. They weren't as small as I first thought, and I was having a great time fondling them as she slowly eased herself down on my cock. Oh fuck that felt good!

When she was finally seated on me, my cock filling her cunt, I asked her, "Okay?"

"Oh fuck," she said. "So much more than just okay. Your cock is tremendous. It's touching me everywhere there is to be touched."

I flexed it, and her eyes got wide.

"Shit. Do that again."

I flexed my prick again but this time I flexed my hips just a little pushing it just a touch farther in.

"Oh yeah. You're going to be so good." She rose up on her hips and let herself sink down again, . . . and again, . . . and again. I met her each time with an upward thrust of my hips, and she groaned in response. Our pace got faster; the thrusts harder and deeper; and her cries louder. Soon she was trashing back and forth, her curly blonde hair swinging wildly around her face.

We kept that up for several minutes. I was in no hurry to cum—just enjoying a really nice fuck with a lady who knew how to enjoy herself.

She leaned forward and was rubbing her tits on my chest while I thrust harder to make up for her posture. Her hair was in my face. When I pushed it aside so I could breathe I got a surprise. I could see Karen kneeling on top of the dune about thirty feet from us watching.

"Cindy," I whispered. "We have company."

"What?"

"Your sister-in-law. She is on the dune watching us."

"Oh that nasty slut," she said with a grin.

"Is she masturbating?"

"I can't tell."

"Can you see her hands?"

"No."

"She is. It's so fucking hot when someone is watching me. Ignore her and fuck me. Talk dirty and make sure she can hear you."

So we did. I rolled her over and began fucking her in the missionary position. Her legs were pulled as far back and spread as wide as she could get them and my cock was pistoning in and out of her with everything I could give it.

I don't know whether it was my fucking or the fact that Karen was watching us, but Cindy was really getting into it. I was sure Karen could hear everything she was saying