Room for Two

So lucky Sharon or Alan had not seen my erection. How awful would that have been? It was only climbing out of the pool and walking past my own table by the pool, an exactly similar outdoor dining table to Alan and Sharon's, that it suddenly came to me. I had been sitting opposite Alan across the shorter distance of the table with the slats and gaps between the slats running between us. Neither could see through the slats from our position but for Sharon with the slats and gaps running towards her she would have had a very clear view down each of the gaps between the slats. She would have had a clear view of Alan and my legs and genitalia, must have seen what was happening under the table; must have had a clear view of my standing erection; must have known exactly what had caused it – and yet had not said a word.

Was that just politeness, had she seen my reaction to her breasts as a compliment? Had she not been offended or just shrugged it off as 'men!' Certainly she had not found an excuse to avoid coming around to my villa the next evening. It gave me a funny tingle. Had she perhaps liked what she had seen or simply been too polite to mention it. She was, after all, a married woman and not exactly unused to erections and, after all, nudists must get erections and that was really what we had been. Would she mention it to Alan?

A good day's work but I made sure all was ready for my guests. A choice of drinks, nibbles, the works. I was comfortably dressed in light linen trousers, flip flops and a cotton shirt – there would be no repeat of my unseemly display of the day before. It was therefore a bit of a shock to see Alan coming up the path as naked as the day he was born with his 'wedding tackle' swinging nonchalantly away and his wife wearing much the same as the day before. It was certainly the same hat.

What was the etiquette? I had two seconds to think and not many more to undress. Despite my best intentions I greeted them naked. People I had only met the day before, yet I was serving them drinks without a stitch on, not even sandals.

It seemed to me the lack of clothes caused a certain dropping of barriers. Unlike at theirs I had seated us around a low, rather than a dining, table and so there was nothing obscuring our nakedness – a nakedness I had not expected and tried to ignore. Our conversation ranged across our children, holidays, my work and how my writing was progressing to naturism. I was surprised to learn Alan and Sharon were not regular practising nudists, had not gone to special clubs and resorts with the children over the years, it was just around their villa that there really was no point in clothes and, Sharon had added, "more sexual that way."

"Well, yes, I suppose so..." I had replied, a little unsure what to say.

They were a little surprised it seemed to find I too was not a nudist – just had not bothered with clothes.

"Well, shall we not bother when with each other then? It is so much cooler."

I was not so sure when Karen came she would be quite so happy.

"And easier," I said.

It was the way Sharon simply uncrossed her leg, a small movement but one which caught my eye. Was it deliberate? Her flowing wrap did not hide her riot of copper curls, the movement of leg brought her slit just into view amidst the curls and a hint of fleshy protuberance through the slit. Despite immediately looking away, it was all quite enough to set me off. I was not a regular practising nudist used to such sights and could not but see being naked as sexual.

Un-obscured – though seemingly that had not been the case the day before either – there was nothing to hide my rising erection. I dare not look but could feel it thickening and lifting off my thigh.

Sharon re-crossed her legs. I was sure it was deliberate, that she had been teasing me, using her sexuality to achieve a result. It had worked.

Sharon gave the appearance of not having noticed, though I rather doubted that - she was perhaps being polite. Alan, on the other hand, was clearly looking at my erection probably comparing it to his own.

"I suppose that is the risky part of nudism. It's going to happen isn't it?"

But not to him it seemed. It would have been far more comfortable, far less embarrassing if I had not been alone in my tumescence.

But Alan's comment was a cue or an excuse for Sharon to pretend to notice for the first time and look.

"The fully nude male! You men! It'll go away. Alan does that all the time."

Was that meant to reassure me? Had he erected as well it would have felt less embarrassing.

But Sharon's assurance that it would 'go away' was not happening. I could not help it. Even with the conversation I could not help thinking about the near naked Sharon and any movement of hers, be it breasts moving in her shift or legs displaying more curls kept the interest. It was awful. A real test of endurance.

Sharon finished her beer, "Do you think," looking pointedly at the join of my legs, "a walk would help that? Do you know the path out from behind our villa to the sea?"

I said I did not. Had not explored further afield. My earlier thoughts of the naked explorer going to wander around their villa's grounds had very much ended with their appearance.

"We do dress for that, don't we?"

"I wouldn't bother. We never do."

"But other people might..."

"Never seen anyone, which is perhaps as well given we've done rather more on an evening stroll than wander around naked."

That sort of comment was not exactly going to help my penis subside. The idea of Sharon and Alan copulating by the light of the setting sun, the image of hard penis pushing into those copper curls was very stimulating.

"Come on, let's go." Alan stood and reached out his hand to help his wife to her feet.

It meant I had to stand as well. Reluctantly I rose. My erection had never been stronger, it was as hard as anything. Sitting it had been perhaps a little less obvious, a little less prominent: standing it was simply there, jutting out from my body with that eager ready to be off look I knew from looking at myself in the mirror. I felt so utterly self-conscious standing there with Alan and Sharon – and my friend. Yet their visual examination did nothing to lessen its strength.

"It curves forwards," commented Sharon, "Alan's bends back towards him, doesn't it, Alan?"

"Most do," he said, "our friend seems a little different."

It had always done that, bent a little forward rather than curving back.

"Interesting," said Sharon, "shall we walk."

Across the wall between the villas, through its grounds not too dissimilar to my own and then onto a sandy path meandering through the low fir trees. Whereas alone I had really enjoyed walking with an erection, feeling so manly, it was quite the reverse with company. If only Alan had become erect too. It would have been, it seemed to me, sort of polite of him. But he had seen his wife's bottom cheeks rising and falling as she walked ahead of us no doubt many times and the movement did not have quite the same novelty or excitement to him. No doubt he had taken her from the rear many times, pushed close to her soft bottom whilst penetrating, perhaps in the past like that on that very path, perhaps even into her bottom hole. These were unhelpful thoughts.

It was only as we neared the sea did finally I subside. It was a relief. Lovely to come out on a bit of headland up above the rocks and sea below and stand there looking out to sea at the sinking sun without being quite so on display. Wonderful to just stand and watch the changing colours – the sunset displaying: not me! Nice to see the couple holding hands. Perhaps I might, no, definitely I would bring Karen to this spot. It would be romantic. Alan had already revealed he and Sharon had made love on the path, perhaps at this very spot as the sun went down. Perhaps Karen might like to: perhaps, it occurred to me, Alan and Sharon might like to be left alone.

"I, err, think I'll be getting back. Do a bit more typing before bed."

There did not seem a great reluctance, no words like 'don't go yet.' But I was invited around for drinks the next night, 'same time – same dress code!'

I walked back up the sandy track into the trees and turned for a last glimpse of the sunset. I smiled, my surmise had been completely accurate: in silhouette against the setting sun I could see the two figures but jutting out from Alan's body was the very clear silhouette of an erection - curving inwards like a banana - just as Sharon had said. I could not see the colour of Sharon's hair but the orange of the sunset so brought to mind the colour of her curls. Of course I rose again at the sight and, as I watched, I saw the curving silhouette of Sharon's body kneel down and the profile of her face make contact with the black silhouette of the erection. I began to wank.

I knew I was hidden from them in the blackness of the trees but they would know I had not yet had time to walk far. Were they happy to be watched, did they relish the idea? It was an exciting idea to me to imagine walking in the garden of my villa and espy them making love across the wall, perhaps Sharon saying, 'please, don't go. Please watch if you wish, it's no different from being naked in company really – just the next stage.'

The thought of watching Alan's erection pushing into those orange curls just so stimulating an image to me; not as good as my own penis pushing into my imagined black girl's black and pink frilliness or, indeed, me pushing into Sharon's flame coloured curls myself, but...

Was this display partly for me? Wonderful to watch the black silhouettes moving, see Sharon's head moving forward and the erection seeming to get shorter but in reality being taken well into her mouth. Perhaps Karen might do the same to me on that very spot. She was good at fellation - when she was minded to.

My fingers moved to and fro. Lovely to stand in the dark and watch – a real pleasure – but perhaps I should leave them to it. Not good if, instead of making love there and then, they decided to return to their villa and a comfortable bed and realised I was not far ahead of them and must have been watching. Perhaps my watching was intended: perhaps it was not.

In silhouette I watched the penis being released by the lips and then very obviously the whole thing being licked from balls to head, up and down. It was all a bit too much for me. I let fly as I stared, imagining her lips on my cock rather than Alan's and imagining my cum pouring out over her face and her copper hair. The reality: another ejaculation onto the hot, dusty ground. I hoped they would not notice when they walked back.

It rather meant I did not have to walk back through the trees erect! A final turn, a few steps, and I could no longer see them. Perhaps they were on the ground, Alan's penis moving in and out between Sharon's curls, nice and cosy in her wet vagina. But I was no longer so interested, my subsiding and dripping erection no longer capable.

There was not really a lot to do to get ready to go around for drinks the next night. No clean shirt to set out, no shorts to iron! It amounted to a swim to cool off and a combing of hair before I found myself walking through the bushes in the direction of their villa with my penis swinging. Hopefully it would behave itself but I had not been able to get the thought of Sharon's orange curls out of my mind all that day – and particularly that glimpse of her slit and the pink protuberance. Was this simply lovely fleshy nether lips or did it indicate the potential for a rather large clitoris? I was careful to immediately banish any such thoughts from my mind as I walked toward their villa. It would not do to arrive with an erection – bad enough getting one whilst there!

I had thought of masturbating and taking away my capability to rise but my sexual interest had been more than provoked. Sex leads men, particularly I suspect, to do unwise things, to take risks they would not sensibly take – but the prospect of sex is alluring. There is almost more excitement in the anticipation than the reality. I was intrigued by Alan and Sharon's complete acceptance of my erection and their making love even before I was really out of sight. I think I was sort of hoping they might get sexual together with me present and me perhaps being able to watch and wank. The idea of seeing Alan's erection push into her copper curls really held me, the idea perhaps of seeing it come out less strong and catching a glimpse of white within her, was rather titillating to me though simply seeing Alan's penis being sucked close to would be pleasing. I suppose I was rather hoping I might be sucked as well but that brought Karen to mind. I could not see her being over pleased at the idea of another woman sucking on my cock – not that she herself did that as much as I would have liked! It would not, though, be intercourse. That was a rather different matter.

There were Alan and Sharon on their patio, I waved and came down to them. Alan as brown and naked as ever, Sharon with her hat and a white tee shirt almost long enough to be a dress – but not quite – a glimpse of copper curls which I tried to ignore.

A very pleasant time sitting drinking beer and chatting away. Yes, my work was on schedule – better than that, close to being finished; we talked of politics and all sorts of things which were not erection inducing. It was pleasant and easy.

"Would you like to walk to see the sunset again?"

"Please. So peaceful and such a view at the end of the walk by the sea."

Sharon smiled and it occurred to me there was perhaps a double meaning in what I had said. Was I imagining she had picked up on that?

"The colours of the sunset."

"The reds and golds," said Alan.

Again a smile from Sharon.

Leaving our drinks we walked out into the dusk, through the little iron gate at the end of their plot through the stone wall and out onto the sandy track, our feet sending little clouds of dust into the air, the scent of the firs in the air and the sound of insects – crickets and cicadas – buzzing and humming around us. The air warm but not with the burning heat of the day.

Alan and I walked together, our talk of motor cars. Sharon a little ahead of us as the path rose a little, requiring a bit of a scramble over rocks, not a difficult climb and the rocks smooth and not jagged on bare feet. Towards the top I saw Sharon reaching forward to hold onto a rock, the action causing her shirt hem to rise giving a fine view of her bottom.

With her legs a little apart and the setting sun shining right through them I had a glorious view of the copper haired slopes of her plump labia, they were slightly parted and I could discern pink frilliness within, possibly even, for my eyesight is good, her vaginal entrance. All noted and registered in a moment but enough to cause my words to stop and my penis to erect. It simply shot up at the sight.

What could I say? It had happened again. "Sorry," I said as I turned back to Alan. But his eyes were on his wife not me and I saw the effect of her sudden exposure was the same for him. I had never seen another man's penis erect and I could not help staring. I knew what they did, of course I knew, I had my own after all, but the transformation from little floppy thing to erect curving procreative organ was dramatic.

"Oh," I said.

"Snap!" He said, looking down at me.

I was unsure what to say. Up the rocky path we scrambled and found Sharon watching us. I straightened from a half crouch as I climbed on reaching the top. Standing upright brought up my erection into prominence.

Sharon looked amused, "Real mountain goats with their horns!"

She almost, I am sure of it, reached for both horns. It did nothing to lessen my tumescence. But she walked on towards the cliff over the sea.

I turned to Alan. So strange to be talking to another man whilst both naked, even stranger with both of us erect. The erect penis is so there! And with two of them it upset the balance of distance, the distance we stand from another. Two erections bring you and your companion a foot closer!

"I like being like this," said Alan, "out in the open, going for a walk – do you?"

And the truth was – yes – I had really enjoyed that erect walk around the grounds of my villa, had liked my image of myself as a naked, erect explorer. Would have done more had Alan and Sharon not appeared, would almost certainly have walked around their grounds like that and probably discovered the path to the cliff edge. I had not been tumescent when they first saw me but was pretty sure it would have come as I walked had they not been there.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

"Not just naked but erect. It makes me feel very manly. Of course sometimes it needs a little help to keep it up. Sometimes Sharon lends a hand, so to speak, other times I..."

It was remarkable. Alan was asking if I minded him wanking, and when he gave a few tentative strokes it seemed only appropriate I did the same.

We walked on, the sight of Sharon on ahead really more than enough stimulation for me. But Alan went on, disclosing rather more.

"We often fuck here as the sun goes down. But you know that."

My watching the night before had not gone unnoticed. I was unsurprised. "I... rather thought you might – and why not!"

We walked on in silence for a minute or two, following Sharon down the path, our erections waggling before us. Occasionally Alan would reach and stroke and I would do the same.

"Would you care to join us?"

"I..." It was such an unexpected invitation. It had, I suppose, been obvious this was all leading to some form of physical contact between us. The words seemed not to mean a simple invitation to be a close onlooker but rather a participant - perhaps Sharon's hand on me as they fucked.

"Sharon is a wonderful woman, a big woman."

Indeed and a very desirable woman. I was aroused by her, considerably aroused by her... but Karen... I had rather thought I would go along with perhaps some fondling. I had, sort of, rather got it into my head that Sharon might wank both of us off and we her together, all as we stood watching the sunset. Sort of friendly without being too intimate. I had even imagined Alan and my ejaculations soaring out into space and falling, if not to the sea, certainly the rocks far below. Though sensibly it would be best to be not so close to the edge. And, yes, I had also imagined my semen pouring out and getting all matted and sticky in Sharon's copper curls – that strange male desire not simply to squirt semen within a woman's several places but on her body as well.

But actual sexual intercourse... that seemed rather another matter! Before or after Alan? I was unprepared for the answer to that one.

"A big woman in more ways than one."

I had to agree with that, big breasts, wide child bearing hips – and she had done that – tall and substantial as well, though not fat.

"Your wife is a fine woman..."

"With a fine body."

"Well, yes indeed, very fine."

"What do you like best? Is it the hair?"

"She has a very fine head of hair. Beautiful colour. Classic titian."

"Yes, but her other hair? Tell me about that."

I was a bit effusive. Alan's comment not dissimilar!

"When you reach under her it is like holding a little, warm furry animal. You'd like to hold that!"

My erection was rock hard, I paused in my step and turned to Alan, I was about to ask about the poking pink bits. It was very exciting – sexually exciting talking about a woman like that with another man. Perhaps even more exciting given how we were displaying our arousal to each other. It felt very good discussing a woman and her sexual attributes with another man. Able to talk so freely and display excitement. I was about to ask him about Sharon's clitoris - that especial interest of mine - was it big?