Marigolds, Ajax and Paris

A lone woman was walking towards her along the water's edge, past the first flush of youth, deeply tanned. As she drew closer it became apparent that she was actually totally nude. It was somewhat disconcerting to see a naked woman strolling without a care of who could see her body, stepping in and out of rock pools, hips swinging and hair blowing in the breeze.

Then her attention was caught by someone waving. It was Bethany and Ray, sitting on a low dune. Both had all-over tans, as undressed as the day they were born and not making any attempt to hide themselves. Ray's not overly large penis was flopped sideways on his thigh and his equally brown scrotum was heavy and loose in the heat.

Bethany invited her over, so Janice went to chat. Passing small-talk, she started to feel over-dressed. She was fully clothed, her companions were decidedly not. She laid out her towel and pulled off her dress, to reveal her bikini, high-waisted to contain her excess weight. She looked around the beach; she seemed to be the only clothed person there.

"I didn't realise it's a nudist beach, I never saw any signs."

"It's tradition here, since forever. All the beaches, not just this one." Bethany pointed back to the hotel, "Unless you're in front of the hotels, nobody cares."

Janice needed to undress. She'd probably never get another chance to recreate her youth. She unclasped her bra and removed it, exposing herself now in front of her new friends. Like being at the doctors but without any stethoscopes. Suddenly she was back at the swimming pool, being checked out.

She tried to wriggle her panties off, rocking from side to side to get the tight garment from under her ass. Bethany leaned forward with a smile, "You'll find that much easier if you stand up and just take them off."

"Everyone will look." Janice glanced around.

"No-one cares. At the moment you're making a bit of a show of yourself, and that gets people's attention. It's like that film with the two guys on the beach with the Hawaiian shirts. One shouts out that no-one cares, and nobody even turns around to see who's shouting. Getting undressed modestly makes no sense."

Doing as she was told, Janice stood up and pulled down the panties. It was true, not a single person took any notice. She was standing upright with her clothes at her feet, her belly and boobs out in public -- her fanny, the lot - and nobody gawked, or even glanced.

She sat down, trying to be as lady-like as possible but Bethany was sitting with her ankles crossed, knees wide apart and her pussy gaping. And nobody cared.

"Have you covered up with sun-cream?" Bethany reached for her beach bag and rummaged inside. "I can let you have some of ours if you haven't. You'll be in hospital by the end of the day otherwise, you first-timers have to be careful."

"Yes", Janice replied. "I put some on this morning." She paused, "How did you know it's my first time here anyway?"

"It's obvious, strangers stand out a mile. I'll make sure your back is covered, but you must be careful to be out in the sun for an hour maximum on your first day anyway."

Janice thought that she was being a terrible fusser but lay down to allow the woman to spread the protection over her back. It was relaxing, but when she continued over her ass it brought a flash-back memory of a French lady covered in tattoos. Finger-tips against the very top of the crease of her butt, easing down between her cheeks and making her squirm. It really was a re-creation of that early vacation.

When instructed, she rolled over onto her back allowing the stroking to continue over her front. It was very soothing and as the hands passed over her shoulders and breasts, Janice closed her eyes. Soon the caresses moved down to her stomach and pussy. Instinctively she separated her thighs as she felt that floating, dozing feeling. But the conversation continued.

"Have you thought about the fancy dress party?" Bethany was returning to her favourite subject, "It's the highlight of the week, we have our costumes ready don't we, Ray?"

* * *

Janice sensed a movement alongside her and opened her eyes; she had dozed off. Bethany and Ray were standing, collecting their stuff together.

"Remember, you have about 15 minutes left in the sun, no more. We're making a move, going back to the room. It's Tyrannosaurus time."

Janice looked blank.

"Get some anaphylactic."

She was none the wiser.

"Anaphylactic shock, get some cock. Tyrannosaurus Rex, sex." Bethany smirked as she followed Ray out of sight back towards the hotel.

Janice was alone, horny and nude. Her friends had disappeared for some private time and she wasn't getting any. She could have rolled over and sunned her ass, but she decided to have a stroll and explore the beach. She could have put her bikini back on, but thought twice of it. Plenty of people here were unclothed, relaxed and free, and she had a few minutes of her hour left.

She saw that she was on a line of dunes stretching away into the distance so she left her stuff behind and climbed up to the very top of that mound, feeling the tightness in her thighs with the effort. She changed her mind about going from crest to crest -- she wasn't young any more -- and walked down a valley towards the sea and the firmer sand. Then she saw a lad lying almost hidden from sight with a towel shielding his face.

Actually, she nearly fell over him. He was in the bottom of a gully that had been gouged out by the wind, or maybe a stream of water. There was a bundle of clothing next to him, with a red T shirt on top.

She looked closer; his penis looked familiar. It was a fortuitous coincidence, meeting Steve like this. She wondered whether to call his name before deciding on another plan. The meat and two veg snug between his muscular thighs looked delectable and she knelt down alongside him as silently as possible, bent over and took his cock into her mouth. No hands, no touching. Just lips and a gentle suck, it was ike sucking up spaghetti from the plate.

He flinched at the contact and she detected movement from his head but her face was so close to his groin that she couldn't make eye contact, so she carried on squeezing him with her tongue against the roof of her mouth, feeling life flooding into the organ. Soon it was filling her and she took a quick look around to check that they were both concealed; there seemed little chance of being discovered.

There was something about an erection that she had created from nothing. Some folks got their kicks from making jewellery from beads, some got them from growing tomatoes in a greenhouse or shooting a wild bird out of the sky. She got hers from taking a sleeping cock and transforming it into a sexual beast, then bringing elixir of life forth into the world.

Now that he was up, she used her hand to hold him. As she had been trained, she held her fist close to her lips as she bobbed her head and kept her tongue pressed against that groove on the underside, giving the impression of deeper action as if she was taking him right down her throat.

A slight twist thrown in for variation, a gentle stroke of his balls, an extra firm suck and he was there.

She heard him grunt and sped up the action as he flexed his hips into the air and spurted into her mouth.

As he softened between her lips he raised his head and the towel slipped from his face. Their eyes met and she saw an expression of puzzlement. Which was hardly surprising as she had been mistaken -- it wasn't Steve at all. She had never seen this man before in her life.

Janice jumped to her feet and hurried away, tits swinging and bouncing wildly, horrified at the realisation that she had given a blow-job to a complete stranger on the beach. Her mouth was still full of his semen and she couldn't speak until she had swallowed, and by then it was too late.

She found herself at the water's edge, her chest painful with the sudden effort. She carried on splashing through the waves without looking back, in future she'd have to be careful with the amount of unrestricted movement she permitted her 'bouncers' -- and next time, look before she sucked.

* * *

A couple of days had passed and Janice was sitting on the sand watching birds running in and out of the sea, searching for food. As a ripple washed over the beach the birds scurried before it to escape a soaking, then as the water retreated they trotted back pecking at the wet sand just as birds had done for thousands of years long before any tourists had arrived.

She was starting to tan now, with an even light brown on her butt and boobs. She was now staying out for most of the morning before sheltering from the sun during the afternoon. Especially as she had her own supply of high-factor sun protection and a regular volunteer to apply it on her back.

A couple walked past, white bits contrasting brightly against brown arms and legs and she was reminded of Bethany's comment about recognizing newcomers.

She was distracted by another movement; a lady with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail was exercising on the beach. She was all alone, doing press-ups and then jumping with her arms high. Then she found a boulder and lifted it high in the air above her head. She was strong with bulging thighs that were set off by tight black shorts that were moulded to her body. That was all she wore, and the effort of manipulating the rock made her breasts twitch. Her narrow waist emphasised the muscles of her back as she turned from side to side. She was a fine specimen and clearly worked hard to keep herself that way.

At last she dropped the stone and stared at the ocean, catching her breath. The she bent down, placed her hands on the rock and performed a hand-stand. She balanced with her legs perfectly straight and toes pointed, then slowly she opened her legs into an inverted split position. Up and down the legs went, first sideways and then lengthways.

Janice had never been in that physical shape, not even close.

Lowering herself onto the damp sand, the woman commenced a yoga routine. Janice was intrigued as she stretched and contorted her body without any concern for onlookers.

The birds ran close to Janice and she could see them more closely. They were black with white markings and didn't have webbed feet, leaving three-pronged foot-prints as they scurried back and forth endlessly. Those prints were erased of course by the very next wave. She couldn't make out what they were feeding on, but they seemed to enjoy whatever it was.

When she looked back at the woman, she had loosened her hair and discarded her shorts. With her tresses tumbling over her shoulders, she strode boldly into the sea and without a flinch for the cold, dived over a wave. Soon she resurfaced and then without wasting any time she returned to the beach, running her hands through her long hair to squeeze out the water.

Picking up a bag, the woman extracted a light pair of long, loose pants which she pulled on, elasticated at the ankles and hips and clinging to her soaking wet body. Slinging the bag over her shoulder she walked past Janice, glistening with seawater as her hips swung with every step. It was like watching a pair of ferrets in a sack.

* * *

Her first boyfriend - or more specifically, the first boy she 'did it' with. Stewart was his name. Stew, everyone called him which she always thought was a good name for someone who screwed like a rabbit.

She was a late starter and her friends had been poking fun at her for being the oldest virgin in town, so she eventually plucked up courage and let him know that she was up for it. So they went out and spent the evening in the back row of the movies. There were double seats especially designed for smooching, and he slid his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She had been wearing a sleeveless blouse and his hand soon found its way inside her bra to have a fumble while his tongue found its way into her mouth. She felt all grown up, allowing this lad to grope her body.

Later, after a few drinks for Dutch Courage, she went back to his flat with him and pulled down her panties. His bed was unmade and smelled of stale sweat and he lay on top of her, his stiff thingy clumsily pushing into her. It was painful, uncomfortable and embarrassing but eventually she wrapped her legs around his waist so that her vagina was at the correct angle and he managed to do the deed. Piercing and stretching her, he inflicted a stabbing pain that she'd been warned about but that hadn't made things any better.

The stretching was the best part, feeling him occupying the space that was designed for it. Then after a period of frantic grunting and humping, he groaned and suddenly collapsed on top of her, panting and gasping.

She'd finally got herself fucked; she was at last a woman.

She was feeling sore and sticky and later when she was alone in the bathroom she held the mirror so that she could inspect the evidence. Apart from some stains where the fluids had dried, there wasn't much. Just the memory of something trickling down her thigh, either semen or blood. She still wasn't sure, even now.

The next day she announced to her friends the big news, but they already knew. Stew had boasted to his friends and word had spread like wildfire. The Great Deflowering of Janice was public knowledge and she was mortified.

She went to the doctors and got a prescription for the pill because if she was going to act like an adult she'd better start behaving like one. So armed with protection a couple of months later she'd repeated the experience with another lad called Benson. His dad wasn't called Ben, but he was, for short.

He used to say things like, 'You've never worked at a garage but you'll always remember the smell of Benzole.' He was right, she'd never worked at a garage and she'd never even heard of Benzole, she still didn't know what it was. He seemed to think it was funny though.

She was wary, anticipating more of the same as his hands unfastened her bra to allow him to fondle her. All the boys were obsessed with her chest, just because she had developed earlier and larger than any of her friends. The first to wear a bra and the last to get it removed.

Ben had stroked her nipples, kissed them which she liked, and then rubbed his penis on them. That was disconcerting and gross to start with, but unlike Stew he was in no hurry. He wanted her to touch him; it was firm, like his testicles inside their sac. He yelped when she tried squeezing them, they felt like apricot pips inside a purse but he didn't appreciate her grip there and made her stroke them gently. It was something that her friends hadn't mentioned; they had only described what they had done to various penises. They'd barely mentioned balls at all.

So she let him continue playing with her bosom and soon she found herself relaxing, even enjoying the attention. When Ben moved 'downstairs' he wanted to stare at her pussy with her legs wide apart and that made her feel shy. But he hadn't allowed her to close her knees together, just made her lie there displaying her most private area to his gaze.

When she protested, he said that he was admiring how pretty she was there. Some women had ugly big flappy lips that he detested, others had fat puffy featureless pussies. But she had pretty little crinkly bits that just poked out and he loved it.

Then he kissed her. Right there, tenderly. Not a slobbery tonguing, just a loving peck on her clitoris. To her amazement she was eager for more; a quick kiss was not enough and she suddenly wanted to make it a snog.

After a while he touched her and she preferred that because his hand was blocking the view, even when he ran his fingertips between her labia, separating them, inserting his fingertip into her vagina that was already anxious of the forthcoming penetration. However she felt herself become eager for more and when he commented that she was wet, she was overwhelmed and pulled him on top.

Unlike the earlier experience with Stew this was far less painful and she settled down, making mental notes of the warmth and firmness of his prick inside her, the gentle rhythmic impact of his tender testicles against her bottom, the nuzzle of his scratchy chin against her neck.

When he started his final sequence of deep thrusts she pulled her knees up to her ears and rejoiced as he announced that he was coming. He had a way with his hips, swivelling his cock so that her insides were stirred up like he had an oar inside her.

She had stayed with Ben for several months. One day she had a deep pleasurable euphoria with a building excitement and enthusiasm, followed by a frenzied rush that she didn't want to stop. He had given her her first orgasm which she didn't even recognise until afterwards, when she burst into tears with the emotion and he asked her what the matter was but she couldn't explain when she was so happy. Then she started laughing and pushed his head between her thighs. It had nearly happened again, but he fell asleep. She didn't mind, she was satisfied and proud of the effect that she'd had on his exhausted cock. It was all down to her, nobody else.

She realised what sex had been like before. It had been OK but a bit of a let-down, like being about to blow out the candles on the cake but someone else jumping forwards and doing it. Or building up to a good sneeze that never happened.

Now it was more like reaching the end of a long car ride to a fair and finally being able to have a good pee -- followed by a ride on the roller coaster. The best feeling in the world.

She learned to tease and entice him if she was bored. Or drunk. Especially in public. She would give him a secret flash of her panties or brush the front of his trousers accidentally on purpose, then when they went to where he was living she'd climb the stairs in front of him. Stopping halfway up and casually removing her underwear before running up the rest of the way and leaving a trail of clothes behind her.

Happy times, the joyous innocence of growing up without responsibilities.

Meanwhile the birds were still dashing back and fore, avoiding the waves in their endless search for dinner.

* * *

The day had arrived for the boat trip. Janice considered not bothering to go, she was becoming quite accustomed to sunbathing on the beach. Bethany spreading sun cream over her body, swimming nude in the sea with her boobs weightless in the water, then spending the afternoon sheltering from the sun in her hotel room when it was an ideal opportunity to have a private moment. She noticed that everyone seemed to find somewhere to go in the afternoon.

A good shower and a shave of her fanny followed by a slow luxurious masturbation with the television tuned to a show. Scantily-clad dancers and singers writhing and wailing as she lay on her bed with her legs wide apart, fingers opening her labia, finding her clitoris, going to work until glorious release. In the absence of a good hard cock it had to do.

Afterwards, trembling and panting with the aftermath of her orgasm watching a lady in a seductive evening gown sing strange words. Imagining that the performers could see her from their studio as she lay there with her thighs splayed. Any one of the penises that she had seen on the beach would come in very handy, that was for sure. Some big, some small, some dwarfed by massive testicles. Some almost hidden by massive bellies. Not a brilliant sight, but hark at her criticising someone else's body shape.

No, she would make the effort. She had paid the money already and she couldn't just waste it. So she pulled on her bikini, strangely constricting. She had quickly become used to not wearing any underwear, didn't mind people seeing her vertical burger, didn't mind at all. It was the one part of her body that she was proud of, several guys had admired it over the years, told her that it was quite beautiful.