Celia and the CEO

“Celia Janson, right this way please,” a male voice said, startling me out of my daydreams. He was dressed in a tailored suit and tie, motioning for me to follow him. We walked up the hall and entered into a room with five people seated around a table.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought, nervous but elated. I took an empty chair at the table. If I did well in this training course, I would be much closer to my goal of leaving my boring bank teller job. Getting in with a major financial institution like this was the key to my future and I knew it.

I sat down, looking around at the people I would be training with. I seemed to be the youngest person here, by a long shot. Before I could think too much into this, the door I had just come through opened up and the room grew instantly quiet, with all eyes pinned toward the door.

What’s going on? I thought. I had been adjusting my purse on the chair and didn’t immediately understand what everyone was looking at.

I followed their gaze and looked toward the door. I could not believe my eyes. Alex Chain was entering the room. This man was essentially a god in the world of finance. He owned this company, but I didn’t realize that he actually appeared in person here. I most certainly didn’t expect to see him in real life, now or ever.

Rising to incredible, record-breaking success before turning 30, this man was rumored to be as rich as Oprah. He was essentially one of my idols and I was trying to get my head around actually being in the same room as him when I realized I was gaping and closed my mouth.

I knew this guy was hot (after all, I was an avid reader of Financial Weekly and he was featured in it at least every few months), but I wasn’t prepared for his presence in the flesh.

Alex Chain was tall, with medium-length black hair, bright blue eyes, and incredible dark lashes that made them stand out. In the photos I’d seen of him, I could tell that his eyes were nice, but in person, they were beyond captivating. He was also a genius, hence his professional and social status. And unlike other “finance geeks,” he had the brain and the looks.

I had seen several seminars given by him and his advice to new investors was always spot on, articulate, and well-spoken. On top of all of that, he was in amazing shape. I had read in his interviews that he was an avid tennis player and also lifted weights and did running. All of this was obvious and his tall physique was stunning even in the suit jacket and dress shirt he had on. I found myself wondering what he looked like without these extra layers. By the looks on the other women’s faces, I wasn’t the only one.

 

“Hello, everyone,” he said in a deep and commanding tone, “Welcome to our training course.” He seemed either unaware or simply unfazed by everyone’s shocked and awed reaction to seeing him in the flesh. “This is where we find out what you’re made of. Take out some paper and write down your ambitions for this job.”

I did as he said, but kept a close eye on him. I simply couldn’t help myself. He was looking around the room at each person and when his eyes met mine, he didn’t simply scan past as he had with all the others. His eyes lingered and a slight smile formed on his face, his eyes narrowing. I could almost feel them burning into me. I waited for him to look away and, when he didn’t, I finally broke eye contact by looking down. I could feel my face burning.

“Now, I want you to take these notes home, think about them, and see if you still feel the same way after sleeping on it,” he continued after everyone had spent about 15 minutes writing. “We want people with a clear direction for this company. Make sure you know what you want before you return tomorrow,” he said, “You can all go home now.”

There were some surprised murmurs around the room. Was that really it? 20 minutes of training? But nobody argued. This man knew what he was talking about when it came to professional banking, after all, and his status and bank account proved that many times over.

“All except for you,” he said, and my heart leapt into my chest. Oh my god, I thought, looking up and seeing that his eyes were again fixed unwaveringly on me. I started wondering again if I had done something wrong, then realized that that was impossible. I had done exactly what everyone else had. Why was I being singled out?

Maybe he could tell just by looking at me that I was too young and inexperienced to be here and was going to send me back to my teller job. The rest of the people in the room filed out, some glancing back at me curiously. The door closed. It sounded deafeningly loud.

 

“Come over here,” Alex said to me, again using that commanding tone, as if no one had ever said no to him before. I had no idea what to expect and found that I had intense butterflies leaping around in my stomach. On legs that felt like cooked spaghetti, I walked over to where he stood. As though there were an electric force field around him, every hair on my body stood up as I got nearer to him. I started tingling and my face continued to burn.

“What’s your name?” he asked me, his eyes still searing into my soul. I told him.

“Celia,” he said, the sound of his voice saying my name making my legs feel even weaker. I was actually facing Alex Chain, having a conversation with him. I had daydreamed about talking to him and probing his mind for tips on financial success, many times. Now I was taking in his overwhelming vibe, looking into his face, and being directly addressed by him. It was almost too much to handle mentally.

“You’ll be happy to know that I’ve decided to give you a special position,” he continued.

A special position? What the hell could that possibly mean?

“They probably didn’t tell you, but I just transferred from a small local bank and had to convince my boss to let me come,” I said, “I don’t know much yet abou-“

But he held up his hand to cut off my speech. I had been rambling.

“Never mind all that, Celia. Let’s see if you’re a good fit for what I have in mind. Turn around,” he said.

I stood still, thinking I must have heard him wrong

“You heard me,” he said, that faint smile forming on his lips again. I spun around.

“Hands on the desk,” he said.

This situation clearly seemed sexual in nature. Part of me wanted to storm out of the room in indignation and file a lawsuit against him. But a larger part of me felt compelled to obey. He was my idol after all and sexier than any man I had ever glimpsed.

My mind couldn’t believe what was happening, but my skin buzzed with energy and heightened sensitivity. My pussy grew extremely hot at his presence and the sound of his commanding voice.

I listened to my body, complying with his demand and placing my hands on the table, arching my lower back slightly. How could a man in his position act so unprofessional? My mind was at war with itself.

“You’ll be perfect, Celia,” he said, “But first…”

I gasped as his strong hands met my hips. Was I okay with this? I didn’t have time to figure that out. I was too distracted and shocked by my body’s reaction. My skin was tingling and throbbing where his hands were. My nipples felt hard enough to cut through my blouse.

He started easing my pants down until they were just below the swell of my ass. I had worn a white silk thong today. I felt extremely vulnerable and exposed in this position, and very turned on. I wouldn’t let just anyone see me like this, but I was compelled to please and impress Alex.

His warm hands began caressing my bare ass. My heart rate quickened as my panties grew even more soaked. He slipped a couple of his fingers above the back of my waistband to touch my silk-clad pussy and I almost came right then and there. His fingers slid easily over the wet surface and the sensation of this drove every coherent idea out of my head in a single instant.

“You are going to be my appointed slave,” he said, “What I say goes and I am your master now. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” my mouth said before my brain could agree or even catch to the situation. His hand spanked me, leaving a stinging sensation and my arousal grew.

“Address me as sir,” he commanded.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, just hoping he would keep touching me. What the fuck is happening? My brain tried to intrude with, but I ignored it and again chose to trust my body instead.

“Now turn around and face me,” he said, and I did so. I was taken aback again by his eyes, incredible jawline, and presence as a whole. I only came up to his shoulders. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating and obviously very expensive. I had never, ever encountered a man like this before in the flesh. The men I had been around previously seemed more like boys to me, all of a sudden.

“On your knees, now,” he commanded.

I dropped down to the floor, my pants still pulled down. I wondered if someone was going to walk into the room at any moment and found that, rather than being horrified by that idea, it turned me on even more. I knew that this was my last chance to walk out the door before anything happened, but I was rooted in place. I could never say no to him and had to know where this would lead.

Alex unbuckled his pants and pulled out his rock-hard cock as I stared on, mesmerized and amazed by what was happening. It looked perfect to me, just like the rest of him. I looked up at his face. “Open your mouth,” he instructed me, “And keep looking at me. I want to see those eyes as I enter your sweet mouth.”

His words gave me those electric tingles all over my body again. I opened my mouth and he placed the tip of himself onto my waiting tongue. The head of his penis was warm. I closed my lips around it and I eagerly waited for him to give me more. I didn’t have to wait long; he began moving slowly, sliding back until his cock was almost fully submerged in my mouth.

“Mmmmm,” he said, “You’re an obedient little slave, as I knew you would be.”

I moaned around his cock as it filled my mouth. It was new for me to be spoken to during sex and his words sent me to new heights of ecstasy.

“Keep sucking,” he instructed. He leaned his head back, breathing in deeply and moaning lightly. He slid in and out of my mouth. His skin smelled clean and amazing. I had to open my mouth pretty wide to accommodate his size and was starting to drool slightly but I didn’t even care. In fact, I found that I would have loved to make him cum this way. I was honored to pleasure him. But he had other plans. He pulled his length out of my mouth.

“Okay, you can stand up now, and sit on the edge of that desk right there,” he said. Again, I obeyed his command without any argument.

“Lie back,” he told me. I did so, but with my pants the way they were, this was a slightly awkward position to be in. My pants had my legs pinned together. I moved my hand to adjust them and he said, “I did not instruct you to do that, Celia. Do you want this position or not?”

I stopped and he reached down and lifted both my legs, still stuck together, up into the air so that one foot was on either side of his neck. Then he reached around and unbuttoned the top of my blouse, exposing the tops of my breasts, then pulling them from my bra. He stroked them for a second or two, my nipples tingling from his rough gestures, then reached his hand back down between my legs.

He moved my soaked panties aside, then sighed with pleasure as he stroked my slippery, hot slit with his finger. I let out little moans as his fingertips brushed my clit, making me lightheaded and sending me to the edge of longing. I wanted and willed him to fuck me. As a woman who was usually so controlled, being in a situation full of the unexpected was something very new to me.

“I like your pants this way. It keeps you held in place and will make your sweet cunt even tighter,” he said, “I can tell by looking at you that you have a nice tight space for my cock.”

“Yes,” I said, as he jammed two of his fingers up inside me. He had large fingers and I moaned as my pussy stretched to take them, unable to stop myself even though there might still have been others in the neighboring offices. He didn’t seem concerned. “Fuck my tight pussy, Mr. Chain,” I said, “Please!”

Were these words really coming out of my mouth? It was like a stranger had taken over my mind.

“Such a good, eager little slut,” he told me, “You’re going to be the perfect way for me to relieve my tension after a long day of work.” He said this while bringing his fingers up to my mouth. I sucked them without being asked, tasting myself and still willing him to get inside of me as soon as possible.

I soon got my wish and braced myself as he placed himself against my pussy, then slid his shaft up inside of me, using both hands to grab onto my thighs for leverage.

“You’re going to be my submissive little sex slave,” he growled as he fucked me, “Whatever I say, you do. Is that clear, slut?” His cock was bigger than any I had taken before and was hitting new spots that I didn’t even realize were there.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I cried, just wanting him to keep thrusting. “I’ll be your dirty little slut, just tell me what to do and don’t stop fucking me!”

“Right now I just want you to lie there and let me use your tight hole,” he said, “Show me how obedient you can be. This is a test to see if you’re capable of this position.”

I obeyed, willing myself to be quiet, lie back, and absorb what was happening. Staying quiet was a challenge, but enjoying this wasn’t hard at all. He had opened the top buttons of his shirt before flipping me back over and I was enjoying the view of his well-defined chest, as well as the changing looks on his face as pleasure gripped him. He was not just sexy, but beautiful to me.

“God, your cunt is unbelievable,” he told me, “You’re going to make me cum. I’m going to fill up your tight little space with my load, and you will take it all. Every single drop, won’t you my little obedient slut?”

“Oh yes, give me all of it,” I groaned, “Fill up my pussy, I’m ready! Fuck me until you cum!”

He started thrusting even harder. Since I was not used to his size, both in terms of width and length, it started to hurt a bit, but I didn’t care at all. I was too lost in my own pleasure. I could tell that he was edging closer to his climax by the sound of his breathing and the speed of his thrusting. He reached one of his hands under to rub my clit, bringing me to an orgasm.

I cried out as my climax ripped through me, racking my body, taking my breath away, and making the muscles of my pussy spasm and shudder. This reaction obviously turned Mr. Chain on, because shortly after, he was pumping his load into me, as promised.

Afterwards, he stood for a second or two, his eyes closed, both of us breathing deeply.

I said nothing, too stunned to even think straight.

“You’ll be perfect,” he said. Alex was buckling his pants and buttoning his shirt again. “Go home and come in tomorrow for training, as planned. I’ll be in the office at the back of the hall when your course is done. Meet me there.”

I started to get dressed. “Oh,” he said, “And don’t forget this.” It was my training packet for work. I almost laughed.

I just had time to get my pants pulled up and my sweater pulled on before he exited the room. What if someone had been out in the hall and seen me? How was he not even worried about that? These were the thoughts occupying my mind as I left the room and headed to my car. I said goodbye to the receptionist, wondering if she could tell that I had just been fucked within an inch of my life on a desk, fully clothed.

 

 

That night I was at home sitting on my couch, enjoying a glass of wine and looking over my training course workbook.

I tried to focus on the material, but my mind wouldn’t stop. I had just fucked one of my idols, a man who I had fantasized about. Was this real? I had already pinched myself earlier to see if I was dreaming, but it seemed as though today had really happened.

The worrying part of this was that I not only admired and respected Alex’s outer-appearance and sex appeal, but admired and looked up to his intellect, mind, and legacy. He was truly an incredible and inspiring businessman and I was going to be seeing more of him. My heart fluttered at this idea. I felt like a fan girl with a gigantic crush.

It had taken me weeks to finally convince my supervisor where I was a bank teller to let me go to the training. You were supposed to have a higher ranking or at least more years of experience than I had to be able to go.

Was I compromising my new position by engaging in sexual activity at work? I mean, it was technically after work hours. And clearly, it couldn’t be that much of a problem if the highest possible boss had been the one to initiate it. This job was something I had wanted more than anything in the world.

I was in awe of the fact that Mr. Chain found me attractive enough to pull aside for a fuck so quickly after seeing and meeting me. Talk about a confidence boost! I decided that I was just going to trust what he had initiated and see what happened. I wondered where my future would lie with the company.

With these thoughts chasing each other in my head, I fell asleep in my bed that night, just wanting the morning to come so I could go back to my training.

 

 

The next morning I selected a green blouse that showed off my cleavage without being too revealing. It had black buttons on it to match my black skirt, short enough to be slightly sexy but again, not overly revealing. I pulled on sheer black tights. Today, I opted for heels instead of comfortable flats. I curled my shiny brown hair, wearing it down instead of pinned up in a bun this time. I applied my makeup carefully, and even threw on a little red lipstick, before heading out the door.

When I walked into the building this time, the receptionist did a double take, almost as if she didn’t recognize me from the day before.

When I entered the conference room, it seemed as though I was one of the last people there. The people in this room also did double takes and the males looked me up and down approvingly.

Apparently, my extra effort this morning had worked! It was a good thing to look nice for work. Hopefully Mr. Chain (sir, I thought, he is sir to me now) would approve, as well. I smiled, thinking of the naughty little secret him and I shared. The training session started with a female manager heading the meeting, writing down notes on a white board and checking with us about whether or not we had questions on the material. I kept glancing over at the door and waiting for Mr. Chain to enter, but he never did.

In between work-related talk, the people taking the training course with me kept excitedly gossiping about Mr. Chain appearing in person the day before. A couple of them, who hadn’t been there, were in disbelief that he had really shown up.

 

Although my mind was occupied with Alex, I had always been so excited by numbers and was still elated to be working at this job, so I made myself pay attention. I had a lot to look forward to lately and life was going well. I felt high on possibility and what was coming up this afternoon with Alex.

Maybe if I really focused, I could move up and work directly under Alex one day. With this thought, my mind drifted to the day before when I had been literally directly under Alex, and I smiled.

 

It was finally almost 3 in the afternoon, nearly time to go meet Mr. Chain. What were we going to do today? I was absolutely beside myself with curiosity and lust. I was so wet from fantasizing about him that my juices had soaked through my panties again, moistening the crotch of the tights I wore. I visualized his chest, jawline, and of course, those stunning and captivating eyes. I wanted to look into them while we fucked, some time. The thought of this sent my mind and body reeling with longing.

Once the course training session was over for the day, I leapt out of my seat, grabbed my things, and walked out the door. I didn’t want to risk someone pulling me aside to ask me something or holding me up in any way whatsoever. I needed to get to the room down the hall.

I found it just where he said it would be. His name was etched into a gold plate on the door. I hesitated, then remembered that I had been invited here, and knocked.

“Come in,” Mr. Chain’s voice said from inside. I walked in and he was sitting behind his desk. I was shocked to see that he was wearing a plain white T-shirt. His biceps were completely exposed and I could not tear my eyes away for the life of me. There was something about seeing him in casual clothes like this that made him even more attractive to me, more human.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” he asked me, but I couldn’t speak. He was smiling that small smile again.

“I see you dressed accordingly for our activities this afternoon,” he said in that smooth, deep, and sexy voice of his. “I want you to continue to wear your hair down when we meet. Is that understood?” I nodded.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

He pulled his office chair out into the center of the room and sat on it, then gestured for me to come forward. As I neared him, he held up his hand as a signal for me to stop where I was. Standing right in front of him, looking down into his face, I was struck again by his eyes and the way he held eye contact; frankly and unabashedly. My heart throbbed. This was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and would always get it.

“Pull your skirt up,” he instructed. I complied, pulling it up until it exposed my thighs.

“Higher than that. And turn so you’re facing away from me.” I spun around as he commanded and pulled up the skirt until my tights-clad ass was visible to him. I wondered if the wet spot caused by thinking of him all day was visible.

I could hear him unbuckling his pants. “Now sit on my lap,” he said. I sat down and could clearly feel his boner underneath me. I adjusted myself so I was on top of it and the tip was aligned with my clit. He put his hands on my hips and began to move my body back and forth along his length. I could hear him sighing lightly with pleasure, and I started to move even slower, teasing him.

Then, he stopped what he was doing and did something unexpected. He reached his hands underneath me and ripped a hole in my tights. Rather than getting angry that he just destroyed my nicest pair, this barbaric act sent my arousal to a new level as my body buzzed and tingled.

He moved my panties aside, just as he had done the previous day, and jammed himself up inside of me with no warning. Luckily, I was well-lubricated and his large cock easily glided up into my pussy. He kept pressing until he was all the way in. I was still tender from the day before, especially from this angle.

For a moment, I was so fixated on how deep he was that all I could do was sit there with my eyes closed, waiting for his next move. I could feel my cunt dripping around his girth.

“Show me how well you can fuck me, Celia,” he told me, and I started moving up and down right away, fucking him with all I had. I knew that this was my chance to prove myself.

Even his thighs were rock hard, which I could feel under my own as I bucked my hips on top of him. I had always been very attracted to men in impeccable physical shape, like most women, but had never gotten to fuck one before this. It was better than I imagined it would feel in my fantasies.

His strong arms were wrapped around my body, encircling my waist and making me feel tiny. Even though I was the one on top, I realized that I might not be able to move if I wanted to and that this was actually a huge turn-on to me. I was completely at his mercy. Alex ripped open my blouse, the black buttons flying across the room, then started groping my chest with the same savage intensity.

I kept moving, letting my impending orgasm drive my motions. I was in a trance-like state. It was clear that my movements were making him wild with lust. It was empowering to know that I had this effect on him.

I reached up and took my breasts out of my bra, so that they were outside of it, offering him easier access. He immediately started to tease and tweak my nipples, increasing the intensity of my arousal and starting the stirrings of an orgasm within me.

“Mmmm, you make such a good little slave, doing exactly as you’re told,” he said to me, and began thrusting with his own rhythm now, creating an intense sensation as is cock moved even deeper inside of me. “And you’re so damn tight, too,” he growled, “It makes it hard to maintain control.”

I was unsure about what he meant, but wanted to find out, “Don’t maintain control then,” I said between sighing and moaning.

Seeming to pause to think for a moment, he reached his arms around me again, even tighter, and stood up, holding me where I was, and walked over to his desk. He set me down so that I was standing up, facing the desk, then pressed my upper back down until I was lying flat on it. Amazingly, he achieved all of this while still inside of me.

He started thrusting incredibly hard, pinning me down so that I couldn’t move, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to keep fucking me. He grabbed the back of my blouse and ripped it off so my back was bare. He unbuckled my bra, threw it and my ripped blouse aside, and then stared running his hands along my bare back, stopping at my neck and encircling it gently with his hands.

He used one hand to keep my upper body held down against the desk, and then ran the fingers of his other hand through my hair in a way that felt quite tender in contrast to the manner in which he was fucking me and holding me down. The savage intensity joined with this caring gesture made my heart surge with something so strong and new that it was slightly unnerving. I knew at that moment that I was beyond infatuated.

Alex picked up his pace and intensity, rocking my body so that my hips started lightly slamming against the desk. I wondered if it would leave bruises there, but didn’t care much. This was, by far, the roughest sex I had ever had. I had heard of rough sex before, and never would have thought that I would be into it, but it was exciting. The times I had had sex before this didn’t even seem like the same activity, by comparison.

I allowed myself to be taken over by Mr. Chain, getting lost in my body’s pleasure. I was impressed by his stamina, but not really surprised given the state of his body. I felt my orgasm building up from deep within me, threatening to take me over, body and mind.

Almost as though he could sense this, he picked up my body as though I weighed nothing. Alex started fucking me even harder, making me come so hard that I started yelling and screaming, “Oh my god, Mr. Chain, fuck me! Fuck me!” I yelled, oblivious to everything but the sensation of my climax washing over my body.

As soon as the last waves of my orgasm had passed, it was his turn. He set me back on the ground so that I was standing as before and pinned down my upper body again as he fucked me wildly. The entire inner-thighs of my tights were now soaked with my juices. I could sense him getting closer to the edge by his breathing.

“Give me your cum, sir,” I cried, “I want to take it all!”

I realized in that moment that I wanted nothing more than to be his obedient slave as he demanded and that nothing could satisfy me more. I also realized that no matter what he asked, I would probably do it without a single question. This was a potentially dangerous level of attraction and infatuation.

I got ready to feel his cock spasm inside of me as he climaxed. But once again, Mr. Chain threw me a curveball. Instead of emptying his load into me again, he pulled out and came on my lower back. It felt warm as it splattered against my skin. Afterwards, I lay there and he stood there for a moment or two, one hand resting on my hip.

Then he went over to one of his desk drawers and pulled out a dress shirt. He peeled off his white T-shirt (giving me a chance to glimpse his washboard abs and the entirety of his perfect chest) and tossed it onto the desk beside me. He pulled on the dress shirt, then his pants, put his shoes on, and left the room.

 

I was covered in sweat and still recovering from the orgasm I had just had. In fact, I could hardly even move from where I was lying on the desk. I realized that I was still technically on the property of my work and decided to stand up, pulling myself together.

I reached over to the T-shirt he had left on the desk beside me. As I slipped it on over myself, I could smell Alex’s scent on it. Again, I felt that rush of intensity in my chest and what felt like butterflies in my stomach.

I thought about who Alex was, all he had accomplished, the fact that he still found time to keep so physically fit and active while becoming one of the world’s youngest billionaires. It was never any secret to myself that I looked up to and was fascinated by this man, but now that I had met him and had sex with him, what did it mean?

Deciding that I could mull it over more later, I gathered my things and pulled my skirt down over the ripped hole in my tights, grateful that both the skirt and T-shirt covered this in case someone was out in the hallway or lobby when I left. But I needn’t have worried, the building was deserted except for a janitor mopping the hall. It was dark outside, meaning that a lot more time had passed in that room than I had realized. I drove home still slightly dazed from my afternoon activities.

 

That night, I was in bed, tossing and turning. I couldn’t stop thinking and eventually accepted that sleep wasn’t about to grace me with its presence anytime soon. I decided to call my best friend, Julia. I needed to talk to someone about what was happening or I was really going to lose my mind!

“Hey, Celia,” she answered, “What’s up?”

I felt relieved to hear her voice instead of my own echoing inside of my head. “Hey, I can’t sleep and have to tell someone about what’s happening to me lately,” I answered in a rush.

“Whoa, sounds intense,” she said with concern in her voice. “Go ahead and spill, you know I’m always here to listen.”

I told her everything. She already knew that I had my training sessions going on at the big bank, but I hadn’t had time to tell her about Alex, yet.

“Wait,” she said, stopping me mid-sentence when I was in the middle of the part with Alex pulling me aside and fucking me after the first training session. “You are claiming that you not only met Alex Chain, but he offered to have sex with you?” she said, incredulous.

“I’m not claiming anything,” I answered, irritated, “It really happened! I’m wearing his T-shirt right now. I swear to God, Julia, I couldn’t make this up!”

“You’re messing with me, Celia,” she answered, “I guess it’s kind of funny, but…”

“This isn’t a joke, damn it!” I answered, growing really angry.

I hung up the phone, furious at her. I felt incredibly lonely and incredibly horny.

I had been with about two or three guys before today, but I wasn’t sure if I had ever been “in love” or not. I tended to be on the more logical side of things when it came to romance, thinking that losing your head over a chemical reaction in the brain (hormones) was kind of silly. Now, I finally understood how people described being “high” on another person.

Breathing in the scent of cologne and pheromones from Alex’s shirt, I touched myself, thinking of him. What on earth was I getting myself into?

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2rhSDtg

Happy Ending in Colombo

More than a relaxing oil massage in Sri Lanka. One white male with a small randy cock. Two Sri Lankan massage ladies.

It was the end of the dry season in Sri Lanka and the pavement temperatures in Colombo soared to 35C. I had been walking all morning site seeing. My tee shirt hung, sweat wet and limp, my underpants were wringing wet. I was tired of being hassled by tuk tuk drivers and sidewalk vendors. I was off the main routes and I spotted salvation, an a/c spa that offered full body oil massage. On going in there were many attendant spa staff all dressed in distinctive red uniforms. Using my credit card I paid for an hour full body relaxing oil massage.

My allocated female attendant was a Sri Lankan woman. She took my hand and led me up the steep staircase to find a vacant cubicle. We went up three floors before a suitable cubicle was found. The cubicles were made of plaster board with walls only going 1.8m high, so open to the ceiling with a curtain hanging across the doorway. Neither soundproof or private.

I asked if I could take a shower before the massage. There was a stool in the cubicle on which I put my damp clothes, and with only a towel around my waist I was taken to the showers, more of a large wet room. She kept putting her head in the door and asking if everything was alright. “Come back to cubicle” she said. I returned refreshed to the cubicle where she was waiting. I reached for my wet underpants and she said “Leave!” So with towel around my waist and naked underneath I stood before my Ceylonese massage lady.

Just then we were joined by another female attendant. I guessed that they did not get many white men here and I was a curiosity. They then each clasped the front of the towel and removed it with a flourish letting it drop to the floor. I stood stark naked before them my package fully exposed for both to examine, which they did. This is when they decided it was time for introductions.

“What your name?” I told them then was told that my attendant was called Fen and the visitor Mara. Standing naked in their presence I did not feel embarrassed if anything a little proud showing off my white body to these two young ladies. I had visions of a four handed full body massage.

The massage bed was there and they hand indicated for me to get on, with touchy hands helping me. I asked if I should lie on my back or my tummy. I heard “back” so lay on my back, naked for them to view. I realised that where this spa was in Colombo that not many white clientele came and that they never saw many naked white men. With the inspection sort of over they made obvious comments about my white naked body.

I felt both proud and aroused showing off my naked white body to these two ladies.

“Turn over” So lying on my stomach I regained some modesty. This was enforced by a small towel being put across my white bum to indicate the beginning of the massage. This was for gesturing only for with a flourish the towel was totally removed, never to be used or seen again during the one hour massage. I was now laying naked, uncovered, face down my large 6 foot three white Caucasian frame filling the massage bed.

The back massage started at the bottom, my bottom, a very good place to start. Copious amounts of warmed oil were poured into the crack between my bum cheeks running seductively down and round to my as yet untouched testicles. With a two handed, five finger massage both my bum cheeks were vigorously massaged. After a while the tempo slowed and the focus moved to the crack with fingers being seductively caressed along the crack. Thumbs were used and the focused targeted area being the anus orifice. Slowly oily fingers were twirled around the target area pushing ever so gently. I had never had this erogenous zone massaged before and it was becoming both comfortable and pleasurable. Every now and then a finger would push at and slightly into my anal orifice. Was a well oiled teak coloured digit going to be plunged into my virgin arse any minute?

Just when it was getting exciting the focus moved to my legs, which were spread wide apart. Generous amounts of oil were applied to my inner thighs which seemed to need more attention than the traditional calf muscle massage. The massage strokes from inner knee started short, slowly and gentle but gradually became longer, faster, more severe and daring pushing up between my inner thighs and testicles until my testicles were being boldly cupped. The eggs were clutched in one hand and pulled down, stretched to a point of pain. I must have winced for Fen said

“Good for you, make strong seed”.

The same procedure was followed on the right inner thigh, again being told that the testicular massage was very healthy for a man and should be done often. She certainly had me by my balls.

Then the sensuous business of massaging my feet, backs of my calves, lower back upper back and shoulders began. With head on towel pillow I must have fallen asleep for the next thing I can remember I was told

“Time to turnover.” She whispered in my ear. She helped me turn over clutching at my naked body fearful of me falling off the narrow bed. I now lay naked on the bed face up still drowsy. Then I heard Fen say

“Very handsome”

“No” I replied modestly.

“Handsome!” she said pointing at my small white flaccid cock. It lay there also fast asleep a crumple of foreskin nestled in the safety of its testicular nest.

“Very small” I responded pointing at my withered phallus.

“No small” she said “Nice size. All Sri Lanka women like small cock. Big cock very painful for lady” she said

At this point she called out in her language and we were again joined by Mara to both see and discuss the merits and demerits of my cock size. They stood over me like two morticians in a morgue or two surgeons in an operating theatre examining the patient. Mara stretched her thumb and index finger to maximum width saying

“Small size good. Most Asian men small size.”

What amused me was that her measure of small erect size was certainly longer than my erect 4 inches. I was getting aroused by the direction of the conversation and decided to take it further.

“White lady like big cock” I said “Mine too small for white lady”

“Big cock” indicated with two hands and the index fingers as a ruler of about nine inches “Very painful for us lady”

“Black man have very big, thick cock” I counted using my hands to indicate length and thickness.

Slowly the subject of the conversation feeling left out, decided to come out of hibernation, rising up from its testicular basket like a cobra, well a small white cobra at least. At that point Mara left us alone. The Asian man in the cubicle next to me must have been getting a good massage as his moaning intensified, from soft and slow to louder and faster and an eventual Arghhh!

Fen had moved around to the head of the table. Sorry let me describe her. She was Indo Asian with a teak/brown skin, beautiful long black/indigo hair typical of Asian women, about 5 foot 5 inches tall with a very friendly anticipating smile. What struck me, as I am a boob man, were her large breasts about 38 Ccup which are large for Asian women. She wore a sandalwood type perfume which added to the exotic air. She said she was 32 years old.

Standing with her tummy against my head both her arms came over my head to massage my chest. Somehow she had loosened her hair which now hung freely. She had also undone the buttons on her red tunic to expose her braless teak coloured tits which also hung freely. Pushing her hands down my chest, her finger tips just reaching my pubic bone but not touching my erect penis her black hair curtain brushed across my body and her two tits massaged either side of my cheeks. My on-full-view cock, which was very erect, responded by twitching in time to her administrations. She seemed to enjoy rubbing her brown tits from my ears to my mouth.

Then just as things were getting heated and fearful of me cumming prematurely she stood behind me and stretched my left arm back and up so that my hand rested between her tits. She massaged my arm and kept moving encouraging me to fondle her delectable breast. Then she changed to the other arm and the same procedure. It gave my humble white cock time to recover, however, the tell tale sign of smegma (precum) was oozing copiously from the tip of my cock.

Fen then moved to lean over my waist to massage the upper side of my legs. As her hands slid down each leg her long black/indigo sheen hair dragged deliberately over and across my sensitive erect white penis, the odd strand of hair would catch and pull, the odd hair would cut into the penis shaft. My pre cum was flowing freely now her hair gathering it up in her administrations. It aroused me further to think that my precum from my small white cock was adding to the sheen of her lustrous hair.

She finished the front of legs massage and stood by my naked side her long hair hanging on my stomach, her hands idling around my lower stomach her long painter finger nails drawing patterns on my tummy. Doing this she never touched my raging cock which I found more erotic than if she had just taken that stiff member in hand and given a well deserved wanking. She clenched her left hand and then using her right index finger pushed it in and out of the clenched left hand, the universal sign language for fucking. Doing this she asked me

“Do you like to fuck?” I nodded.

“You have girlfriend?” she asked.

“No” I said. She was horrified by my reply and said

“All Sri Lankan men have girlfriend!” Then she looked worried in case she had crossed a line.

“Do you have boyfriend?”

Emphatic “No!”

“You want me to find you Sri Lankan girlfriend?”

Mara must have finished her task in the cubicle next door and came to join us again, me quiet unperturbed in my naked state with rampant small white cock erection streaming precum. “Your cock right size for small young Sri Lankan girlfriend” Mara added diplomatically

“No hurt young girl”

“Probably no feel” I said. They giggled at the truth.

The massage part was over. I was stood up naked between them. They both took turns giving my bum and testicles the odd squeeze but to my surprise never touching my cock that was still jutting out in front of me. Now the Happy Ending negotiations begin.

“You want to be happy?” they both asked more of an instruction than a question.

The menu and price list was verbally conveyed “Hand job so many US dollars, Blow job so many US dollars, the whole catastrophe with kissing sucking and fucking was only US$100!. They would both be there and take turns. USD100 x 2, I thought. They assume that because you are white you have plenty of money. It was tempting and they were excellent sales ladies, but I was on a back packing holiday and did not have that sort of money. Yes I did give them each a tip but not the tip of a horny small white cock that was rampant and ready to experience a teak coloured “Happy Ending” in Colombo.

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2r0WfPv

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Eleven and Twelve

The real life stories of a social naturist

The Age of Naturists

By “The Age of Naturists” I am not inferring or implying it to be the dawning of the age of Aquarius but naturism is beyond dawn, now at about midday and one of the fastest growing tourist sectors in civilized societies. No, in this chapter I want to explore, share and invite your input and experiences as to the perceived average age of naturists. Is it getting older (a declining sign) or is the average age getting younger (a encouraging sign)? Our travels, visits and exposures give us a guesstimate as to the average age of naturists being about 55 years old. We would say mostly retired couples in their 60’s who have the time and opportunity to practice this lifestyle. There are diehard committed naturists well into their 80’s. Some couples that we have met have had the privilege to live the naturist lifestyle for 30 years, bringing up their children in this natural uninhibited culture. We recently witnessed this with a German couple on holiday with their beautiful blonde 28 year old daughter, who as she had always been on holiday from a small girl with her naturist parents, was totally at ease being naked with her parents. There were no inhibitions or constraints between parents and daughter. She was quiet unperturbed when asked by another naturist if he could take pictures of her. She said “Go ahead take as many as you like,” and her parents were proud of their daughter being photographed by a stranger/naturist new found friend. Remember to always ask permission before taking pictures . My thoughts regarding the above German naturist girl is what happens when the boyfriend comes along? Will he have to conform to, or convert to naturism?

With the sixties plus naturist population accounted for there is a distinct void to new parents with toddler and young school children enjoying the freedom of a clothes free relaxing holiday. So we have the married 30 plus parents with their 0 – 12 year old naturist children.

A question often asked by both other naturists and naturist associations and clubs is where are 13-30 year old naturists, conspicuous by their absence. We have seen very few teen naturists probably out of body development self conscious. We did watch a group of early teenage boys and girls at a game farm naturist resort in South Africa who played and joked, clothed on the lawns around the swimming pool. Eventually the heat of the day and the temptation of the pool beckoned. The rules of the resort stipulated clothes free in the swimming pool. The teen boys quickly disrobed, the girls however shyly removed their clothes, threatening the boys with their lives if they watched. Once all in the pool the nakedness was forgotten and they continued to play and cavort with bare abandon as only teenagers can. They were totally unconcerned about being naked in public eye being seen by their teen peers and adult naturists. They were the naturists of the future.

 Chapter Twelve: Miscellaneous Stories

The beach in Spain was crowded with elderly (or should I say mature?) naturist bodies enjoying the end of the summer sun. It was routine to take a constitutional stroll with ones partner along the beach to the absolute limits of the clothing optional beach (well marked by no naked men and women signs) before retiring to your chosen towel position, getting some sun then venturing into the sea for a swim. This was the established daily routine. It was a continuous passing parade of mature naturist bodies with all the defaults of age but all happy and enjoying themselves.

A tall statuesque sun tanned girl with long dark hair suddenly appeared and walked with model like confidence along the beach. She was definitely a 10 out of 10, no tan lines, a perfect olive tan, obviously a regular naturist. She was accompanied by her boyfriend whose body had never seen the sun, a nightclub tan. He was embarrassed having to walk with her and to make matters worse he was wearing not a swim suit but checked boxer underpants making a spectacle of himself among all the other totally nude beach goers. All eyes were on this odd young couple. The question going through everyone’s mind was how did she get a boyfriend like him? Did she have the body and looks and he had the money? Was he too shy to remove his ridiculous boxer shorts because 1.) he may have/get an erection, 2.) he was not well endowed?

A German family came to the beach everyday with their young teen daughter who was always clad in a bikini. The parents and six year old son were true naturists and enjoyed being in the nude. The children played as children but every day the young girl baited and annoyed her brother. This normally ended in the boy chasing the girl around the beach with much screaming. They would soon be playing again either on the sand or water games in the sea. The young teen girl played the role of a child often to the utter annoyance of her brother, father and mother. One day we noticed that the teen daughter had come to the beach on her own for some quality time alone away from the rest of he family. What a transformation! She had on sunglasses, carried a beach bag with her towel and Hello magazine. However, she still had on her bikini. She spread her towel near us applied sunblock and proceeded to read her magazine as she sun bathed on this clothes free beach just as the adults do. After a while she went for a swim in the sea and returned to her towel investigating with teen interest all the naked male and females bodies sprawled on the beach. The amount of close up interest she showed indicated that she was going to write an anatomy project paper. Having checked out all the body parts of male and female in her immediate area she took her towel and set up further down the beach. Again the sunblock was applied, the magazine read, a swim in the sea then the inspection of a fresh set of naked bodies. She did have courage to be so bold which she would never been allowed to do in the presence of her parents or younger brother. On her third move she decided it was time to remove her bikini top and apply sun block to her budding teen breasts. So the butterfly was evolving into a confident young naturist.

The Valata naturist camp in Istria, Croatia offers FKK sightseeing trips by boat to the historic town of Porec. One can board the old fishing boat naked and travel for an hour on the sea trip naked. As the boat approaches the busy downtown dock in the town of Porec all naturist passengers get dressed to go ashore and site see for the two hour allocated period. Due to the internationality of the twenty odd passengers the captain of the boat held up a sign with the departure time written in numerals. We all then knew that the boat was departing at 2:30. We went ashore and tried to see as many oft he historic town sites in the limited time, going up the tower and wandering the narrow lanes. By 2:15 we were back at the dock and climbed down into the boat to take our seats for the return trip. Come 2:30 we were short of one large blonde mother and her 14 year old daughter. The captain blew his horn and threatened to leave when we saw the obese mother come running along the dock with her daughter having just bought ice cream cones. While these last two passengers were getting settled in the dock was full of other tourists walking about in the harbour area. The boat was still tied up when we noticed that one of the passengers, a woman of about 80, had already removed all her clothes and folded them neatly on the bench next to her. This to the muted amusement of fellow passengers and the astonishment of passersby on the dock. Once the boat was out of the confines of the harbour we all stripped down to enjoy the afternoon sun on the return voyage. It became obvious that the late, large, blonde woman had been imbibing while ashore and was very much in a party mood on the return trip. She kept sending her nude teen daughter to the captain to buy wine to sustain her party mood. Half way back to Valata she suggested with a smirk that the captain stop the boat and we all go for a naughty skinny dip. Hello! We were all already naked. The captain was not amused by this suggestion and he continued the trip back refusing to serve her or her daughter any more wine.

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2qvgLEr

Naked, nudist, Naturist Chapter Ten

The real life stories of a social naturist

The Colours of Naturism

“Naturism is colour blind.” INaked

All the naturist resorts, clubs, beaches, etc. that we have been to to date have been dominated by white (Caucasian) naturists. It is rare to see naturists of African descent (Black) or Asian (Indian, South East Asia or China) naturists. As mentioned previously a tall black athletic male was on a beach in Spain. The black/white contrast certainly draw attention to him, just as I suppose if I, a white male naturist were to appear on an all black or Asian naturist beach. Please, if anyone knows of such an opportunity please let me know. We had seen a good looking young black girl on a beach in Croatia. She was with a group of backpacker white girls. I had just said to my wife that we have never seen a mature (with due respect) black woman naturist when that afternoon on a Spanish beach a black woman accompanied by a white man spent a most pleasant time in the sun. She never attracted as much attention as the “outstanding” black male though. There was an elderly (Uncle Tom) black couple at the Valalata Naturist resort in Croatia. They were always immaculately dressed whenever we saw them. A permanent resident at Empire Haven nudist Park said that a black New York family had permanent residence, that they would visit but only the father would venture out clothes free. In the ‘70’s there was a saying “Black is beautiful” Now the saying goes “Bare-is-beautiful.”

We haven’t been to any Asian naturist resorts and haven’t seen any Asian naturists at other clothing optional resorts we have visited. Over the years we have travelled extensively in South East Asia and have always felt that the naturist opportunities abound, just waiting to be exploited. I understand that Thailand has now formed a Naturist Association Thailand http://ift.tt/2rsX19z Reading from their website:

Naturist Association Thailand Co., Ltd. (NAT) promotes a lifestyle for health and wellness people who enjoy clothing-optional, naturist or nudist recreation in Thailand. Our concept is based on the well-known positive effect of naturism on stress and tensions and its boosting effect on self respect and positive body image. Naturist Association Thailand promotes naturism in Thailand and organizes naturist health and wellness holidays and fitness weekends for members of all ages with or without children. We are always looking for new resorts to be member resorts that would enjoy the benefits of naturist tourism.

Non-Sexual Concept Our adherence to the fundamental non-sexual concept of naturism ensures that single women and families can relax in complete safety and experience the full enjoyment of social nakedness during their stay. Swingers need not apply, as you will be rejected.

Family Lifestyle Contrary to other therapies, naturism is a family inclusive lifestyle. We engage the strong and invigorating forces of naturism or nudism in boosting the recreational value our members’ quality time together with their children and other members in a relaxed atmosphere of body awareness and mutual acceptance.

Stress vs Well Being It is well known among naturists that even shorter periods of naturism creates a recreational wellness value matched otherwise only by much longer vacations Stress and everyday concerns are likely to vanish completely through the practicing of naturism as health, wellness and body-mind-spirit awareness improves.

The Secret The secret to the pleasure of naturism or nudism is the mindfulness and ultimate body awareness experience which is created by the feeling of the water flowing unhindered against your skin when swimming naked, the complete absorption of the sun on your whole body, the unrestrained caress of your skin by the evening breeze when strolling along a beach in the sunset.

But I don’t live in Thailand! That’s fine with us, just by being a member you also support the growth of naturism in Thailand as well as Southeast Asia. We also can see you when you come on your vacation to Thailand. Many international visitors join us because they enjoy coming to Thailand and want to enjoy the same things they do back home. And because we have such great weather. No matter where you live, it is always summer in Thailand.
I thought Naturism/Nudism was illegal in Thailand! Yes, public nudity is illegal in Thailand. We don’t go nude in public. We have private events at naturist member resorts or at very remote beach locations.

What Naturists stand for: A way of living in harmony with people and nature, expressed through social nudity, and shown by self-respect of people with different opinions, body types and cultures. Who Naturists are: Naturists come from all walks of life, cultures, and religions. They have an inner enthusiasm that calls to them; telling them being without clothes is a comfortable and has nothing to do with sex. They come from anywhere and everywhere, they can be politicians, bankers, corporate professionals, business owners, and laborers. Benefits of Naturism: 1. Self Respect: We build self-respect and a positive body image. Unlike the media’s narrow and unrealistic conception of beauty which builds a negative self image. 2. Equality: We are all human beings, living on the same planet, made up of the same parts, just trying to survive. 3. Feminism: Women have an equal right to be naked and not seen as a sexual objects. 4. Environmentalism: We are not a separate thing from nature. Human beings are highly evolved, highly intelligent animals, but animals nonetheless. 5. Health: Sunshine and fresh air are good for the whole body, and we promote outside activity, like swimming and hiking. And we all could take better care of our bodies. 6. Spirituality: There is something spiritually uplifting, wholesome, and awe-inspiring, when you’re naked in an environment untouched by civilization, without any textile fibers that connect you of time and place.

The above extract from their website seems to encapsulate the growing demand for naturist destinations. I am most encouraged at this development and will certainly join NAT to support their cause and look forward to visiting some of the listed naturist resorts.

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2r0wpLB

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Nine

The real life stories of a social naturist

Size and the Male Species

“There are men with a larger penis than average who are ashamed about their size, and there are men with a smaller than average size in whom size is not an issue.”

Source: Women’s Health, Fitness

Biometry [baɪˈɒmɪtrɪ], biometrics [ˌbaɪəˈmɛtrɪks] can be defined as the analysis of biological data using mathematical and statistical methods. It would be a biometerist’s nightmare to arrive at a mathematical equitable equation, based on field work statistics relating to the male of the human species. If X =Y then P (length) = Z inches where X could be the male foot or nose size, Y is inches and P is the measured erect penis length. Any naturist, male or particularly female, would adamantly repute any biometerist’s claims to have successfully arrived at the above equation. A man’s height, size of his feet, or length of his nose does not necessarily relate to what’s hanging between his legs. It’s an elusive ratio, as one can see a tall man with a short penis and the inverse, a short man with a long penis.

All red blooded men, from boyhood days, enjoy being in the nude, without clothing, letting it all hang free. That is if you are well endowed and have something that you would be proud to display in front of other men and woman. The exception to the above are the locker room shower shy men and boys who are not so well endowed. I fall into this category having a very small penis as defined by white (Caucasian) norms as >4.26 inches when erect compared to an average erect size among white men as 5 to 6.6 inches. Now only 2.3% of white males have very small penises, 13.7% small 4.26 to 5 inches, the majority 67.6% average, and at the other end of the spectrum big 6.6 to 7.4 inches 14.1% and the remaining very big > 7.4 inches 2.3%. In butchery terms this can easily be classified as chipolata, sausage and salami, and in any naturist situation one will find the whole range of meat products on display. Now the other problem with an uncut penis, such as mine, is that when flaccid or cold it crumples into a wreath of foreskin sitting atop the testes without much projecting. “So why be a naturist if you have such a small penis? Are you in it for the humiliation trip? Is your wife putting you on display advertising the fact that she is actively looking for something bigger?” you may well ask. Reading up on the physcological issue referred to as the Small Penis Syndrome (SPS) some of the recommended remedies suggested are: talking about the small problem; writing about it; and the suggestion to become a naturist, to let “it” all hang out and proudly compare with other men and get female reaction. This has worked for me for although I have not gained in size, I have benefitted from the naturist quality of life and gained in stature and self confidence.

At every naturist occasion, I dare my wife to find one as small or smaller than mine. She hasn’t succeeded as yet, jokingly saying that even some of the pubescent boys have larger (longer or thicker) than mine. She says that if I was clean shaven in the pubic area I could easily be mistaken for a pre teen boy. We laugh about it. It is also caused many a giggle or smirk as I, a six foot three inch tall man, walk about in a naturist environment. There were two young couples in their 30’s walking towards my wife and I in a Croatian Nudist resort, both woman pointed and giggled at my lack of endowment. We did not understand what they were saying but we certainly got the gist of their amusement ….”Such a big man… such a small penis… My wife takes delight in pointing out (not literally) well hung men saying “That’s one for the Guinness Book of Records!” There are good, bad and damn side ugly penises hanging out there. My wife will often say “Now there’s a handsome one.”

One of the most natural concerns of the first time male naturist, especially younger men, is the arousal potential and embarrassment of getting an erection in public. Our first naturist experience was on Little Palm Beach on the Island of Wahikiki off Auckland, New Zealand. It was easy enough for my wife and I to strip down on the sandy beach and go into the clear, cold waters of the Pacific Ocean. We spent a long time in the sea enjoying our new found freedom of the cool waters washing about our naked bodies. As cold water does to a man it contracted both testes into a tight ball and penis into a non-entity. Then there was the daunting task of having to walk out of the cold sea, emerge naked from the surf in front of all the others on the beach. All eyes seem to be nonchantly, discreetly looking the other way, but you can be assured that they are observing this new comer couple coming from the surf. That’s when one is totally aware of a small endowment, diminished by the cold sea waters.

We lay on our towels and sun dried, lying on my back with my wife lying to the right of me. I must have fallen asleep in the warming sun for my wife nudged me awake saying “Turn over you have an erection and everyone is staring at you.” “Not much to stare at” I thought. But anyway I turned onto my left side, still erect. What I did not know was that while asleep a single young male had spread out quiet close to me on my left side. He smiled and was amused by my predicament. This close encounter quickly deflated more than my ego.

We were told at Empire Haven Nudist Resort, upper New York State, about a beach volley ball game, consisting mainly of naturist college girls who were short one player. They asked a young sixteen year old boy to make up the side, which he gladly did, pleased to participate with these beautiful young naked girls. He was not aware of the natural consequences. As the action started, the sight and motion of his team mates and opponents across the net, all around him, bumping and making contact with his naked body caused him to get an erection. To his credit, the story goes, he continued to play with dedication and determination despite the cheering from the spectators. The college girls had noticed his predicament but to their credit did not say or do anything. During a break in the game he went off the court, still erect, turned his back on his female team members and spectators and took his member in hand. He returned to play the second half of the game in a flaccid condition. At the party after the game he was nominated “Man of the Match” by the girls with many of them saying “If you were older, with your endurance, I would give you my mobile number for a date.” No one was concerned or upset by the natural reaction of the young boy among the girls. He never lost his dignity or was embarrassed, in fact he has become a nameless legend at Empire Haven. It goes to show the accommodating spirit of comradeship among naturists.

My last erection story refers to a young black male on the Costa Natura beach, Spain. Now one does not often see many black male naturists, it was a first for me. This tall athletically built 30 year old some male was accompanying an attractive white blonde female who was much older. They sat down on the beach next to us and he was visibly aroused, his semi erect black penis sticking out horizontally in front of him. She suggested that he went and take a cold shower at the shower located some 200m down the beach. He could just as easily gone into the cool sea just in front of us. Without covering himself with a towel he casually strolled down the beach to take the shower as instructed. You can be assured that this contrasting black among white naturist turned heads as he walked to the shower. You could see the thoughts going through both the male and female beach goers minds. “Yes it’s true that black men are better endowed.” Here’s another penis factoid: The average erect size of black men is 8 inches compared to white men six and half inches and Asian men 4 inches. The shower did not remedy the problem, much to the contained amusement of beach goers as he strolled back with his black “creosted transmission pole” jutting out in front of him to his blond partner. She blushed pink and told him to put some clothes on. To our amusement he was content to put on a tee shirt still having his well endowed manhood on fully erect display. She gave him a towel to wrap around his waist and they left the beach, she humiliated and he unperturbed. We never saw them on the beach again. A sad ending.

 

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2qvaRDl

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Eight

The real life stories of a social naturist

All Shapes and Sizes

“What spirit is so empty and blind, that it cannot grasp the fact that a human foot is more noble than the shoe and the human skin more beautiful than the garment with which it is clothed.” —Michelangelo

Yes it takes courage to disrobe, to be totally naked, especially in the presence of others and then walk among other fellow naturists. When you do, you have come out of the clothes closet. This is entering the world of social naturism. Here you are not judged on body perfect but purely the spirit and courage to participate in the lifestyle of naturism. Very few of us have perfect bodies. The most important thing is The 3C’s, to be Content, Comfortable, and Confident with your body irrespective of shape or size.

We have seen a spectrum of both male and female body shapes and sizes ranging from almost anorexic to obese with the middle of the range being filled by a few Barbie and Ken types. Irrespective of your current body form, enjoy the freedom of walking free without the encumbrance of clothing, enjoy the beach, the pool, hot tub, volley ball court or other naturist activity. Would these same people be as comfortable and content squeezed into swimming suits, no it would be far more embarrassing than going a la naturel. A most obese young woman and her husband/partner came and set down their towels on the beach next to us. They both stripped down. What impressed everyone was the most perfect tan that this woman had. Uniform and olive all over, it must have taken hours lying naked in the sun to achieve. Despite her size she confidently walked into the surf and swam beautifully, obviously training. She earned every beach goer’s respect and all preconceptions about her obesity were overlooked.

It takes courage for a man without legs to wheel his wheelchair to the pool and participate in the nude with other naturists. As a naturist he is an equal despite his disabilities. On the Costa Natura beach in Spain we saw a young man who had been earlier in his life badly burnt in the pelvic area with burn blemishes on buttocks, thighs and genitals, yet every day he was proudly on the beach enjoying the sun, a walk and a swim. Now that takes guts, yet he was openly accepted and greeted all.

In a hot tub at a naturist resort in Oregon there was a cheerful elderly woman who had had a double masectomony, yet this did not deter her as she chatted and joked to other naturists in the hot tub. At the same resort (we will call her Maisie) celebrated her 85 birthday in the nude, had been a naturist for 40 odd years. She invited all to her cabin to share her birthday cake. Strangers instantly became friends as we naturists sung happy birthday to Maisie and shared her piece of cake. My first naked birthday party.

The golden rule of naturism says look everyone in the eye. But let’s get real here, it’s only human nature for the eye to take in everything. Rest assured, you in your nakedness will be checked out, just as you will check out others. Why just yesterday I was walking down the concrete ramp with my wife to the naturist beach when a ca 13 year old naked girl was coming up the ramp from the beach and she certainly gave us both the once over not being shy to gaze into our pubic areas. All part of educating young naturists I suppose.

Men check out men, with no gay undertones and women check out women. My wife will often say to me “Look at that woman, she has a classic figure” or “Look she has magnificent legs, breasts, nipples, tan, whatever.” All complimentary.

There is a story of a very obese naturist man sitting Buddha like on his towel on the sand. A flap of stomach fat hung like an apron, covering his genitals. A young boy walking with his father said “Look dad that man does not have a pee pee.”

My wife has, in my opinion, a magnificent pair of cup 38C sized breasts which are very well preserved and uniformly olive tanned. I am very proud of her unadulterated assets. Among naturists one will see women with breasts of all shapes and sizes, pointing downwards, skywards and sideways. It is understood that some women are as self conscientious of their small breasts as some men are of their small penises, and yet naturism prevails and conquers and they are literally all out there.

There are discreet nipple piercings that are not offensive or in your face. Small horizontal bars look attractive, but take those same bars and have them vertically pierced and they look bizarre. We saw nipples pieced and hung with large brass rings that could have been worn as hoop earrings. This does not go well with the concept of natural, outdoors and naturism. The same hoop earing nipple pierced woman came to the beach the following day wearing long brass tassels as nipple piercings which probably were more correct if worn to a nightclub or go-go bar. We wondered if she had a whole collection, a Monday through Sunday set. All navel piercings that we have seen have been unobtrusive, adorning and cute. Then there are exceptions. A young girl had a very long navel piercing not going through the navel at all but starting and ending about one inch on either side of the navel. This looked more like a war souvenir than an adornment for a young girl. Now nipple and navel piercings are one thing while out and about in a naturist environment but female genital piercings should be reserved for the privacy of the bedroom. The worst we have seen is a clean shaven woman with a little silver padlock pierced from labia to labia providing a form of chastity protection. Can you imagine in the heat of passion searching for the padlock key!

Tattoos are another thing I abhor, whether on nude or textile skin canvas. This is just the mutilation of the given body. Tattoos increased by 27% among people of the United States of America in 2012, rising from 14% of the population to 15% . In numbers with a population of 314 million people in 2012 tattooed persons increased from 44 million to 47 million. American women now exceed American men with tattoos. Have you seen an American woman with an Ace of Spades or Queen of Spades tattoo? Do you know what those tattoos signify? It means that they have slept with a black man, would like to sleep with a black man or only have sex with black men. There were two dusky Arab naturist girls on the beach with us in Spain. Firstly, it was unusual to see Middle Eastern naturist woman in the nude. Secondly they were both heavily tattooed, both behind the left shoulders filling almost a quarter of their backs. One had a thin line of tattooed writing running from the base of her neck diagonally to over her ear disappearing into her hairline. The other had large letter tattoo from the top of her vagina running diagonally over her thigh. They more or less “set up tent” next to us on the beach every day but despite smiles of hello and good morning there was a vast language barrier, as I would have liked to talk to them about their tattoos, what they meant, what they said and their significance. If the over indulgence in tattooing was not enough the younger of the girls with a very slight build had had silicone breasts implants in her petite breasts. It did not enhance but looked like two grapefruit had been forcefully implanted making her slender body look totally top heavy and out of proportion. Why had she destroyed and spoiled such a beautiful young body?

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2raw0a7

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Seven

The real life stories of a social naturist

What is Naturism

“How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?” —Katherine Mansfield

“Nudism is characterized by collective nudity among family and friends for the purpose of accepting the entire human body as being wholesome and shame free. “

 Naturism is a lifestyle in harmony with nature, expressed through personal and social nudity, and characterised by self-respect of people with different opinions and of the environment

 There are hundreds of definitions of naturism that can be found in books, magazines and the Internet. I found the following which seemed to sum up naturism for me:

We are naturists because …

  • … because our body is something entirely natural and we accept it just the way we got it from mother nature.
  • … because the pleasure of being nude liberates us from our acquired inhibitions.
  • … because the bare facts don’t hide anything, although this can lead to disappointment for those accustomed to having their fantasies inspired by sophisticated beach fashion. It’s interesting to see the variety of bodies, from young to old, and to realize that all have a beauty of their own, even though few match the ‘ideal’ suggested by advertisements. The main point is that one accepts oneself and others just the way we all are, and we believe that this is a strong point of naturists. The saying goes “clothes make the man”, but are we only someone if we do wear something ?
  • …because our birthday-suit is not only much more comfortable, it is also more beautiful and cheaper than any other garment. We do not need designer wear to improve our self-confidence, clothing just hides our own beauty!
  • … because it’s just wonderful to feel the sun, the water and the air unhindered on our skin, whilst enjoying the calm and beauty of nature. To us, this is an important part of the joy of life.
  • … because social nudity requires mutual respect and therefore produces a positive and tolerant conduct towards others.
  • … because at naturist-resorts, quite often very far reaching conversations develop, be it with long-time friends or complete strangers. Possibly one does subconsciously take off more than just ones clothes and one can therefore speak more openly. Those who have the self-confidence to show their bodies, also often have the honesty to open their inner selves. In any case, we have found that naturists generally think more open mindedly and reveal more of themselves than average people do. Could it be that naturists questioned the taboos and guidelines of today’s society and deliberately chose their own path?
  • … because “au naturel” no sand sticks between our bum, the entire body quickly dries after bathing, no sunburned rims appear, nothing pinches and one sweats less because the entire body can breathe unhindered.
  • … because we are very often out in the fresh air in our birthday suits, we feel physically and mentally fit and well-balanced. In this way naturism inspires us to many activities, spiritually and bodily, which advance our creativity.
  • …because we wanted to experience our own freedom. We feel better towards others, because we are at one with ourselves. This freedom must be experienced, you cannot just “imagine” it.
  • … because the following thesis of the International Naturist Federation matches with our philosophy of life “Naturism is a lifestyle in harmony with nature, expressed through social nudity, and characterised by self-respect, respect for people with different opinions and for the environment.”
  • … because we also agree with the following thesis of the internet. naturist movement: “Comprehensive nudity is the best approach to effect a return to nature. Without any doubt, it is naturism’s most noticeable feature, though it’s not the only one. This comprehensive nudity is a great leveller, freeing people from the internal tensions generated by the taboos and the provocations of contemporary society, and pointing to a healthier and more humane way of life. “
  • …because on a warm day out in the nature or on the beach, it’s more fun just in the birthday-suit, it’s more comfortable, more natural and even more healthy!
  • … and ESPECIALLY: On the beach, it’s more fun just in the birthday-suit, it’s more comfortable, more natural and even more healthy!
  • Naturism is not a secret cult, international organisation, charity sect, alternate health group. Naturists love the sunshine but do not worship the sun or the moon. Enjoy the healing benefits of heliotrophy. Naturism is a leveller, no Amarni, or Gucci, no clothes, no make up or jewels to adorn the body and signify station in life, just naked as equals. No social strata or pecking order. For example we entertained our neighbours at Empire Haven Nudist Resort to sunset drinks and snacks. Two couples of the same age group, enjoying the setting sun with a glass of wine and sharing life stories in the nude. He was a retired truck driver, she had worked on a factory line making widgets of some sort. Despite the background divide we had a most enjoyable evening without prejudice or pretension. The evening ended in naked hugs all round and my wife was quiet relaxed being hugged in the nude by a naked man. I was also relaxed about the sincerity and warmth of the hug I got from our departing new found female guest.

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2s8MUCZ

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Six

The real life stories of a social naturist

Country Experiences: USA

Oregon: Rooster Rock

It must have been just after two in the afternoon when we turned our hired car off Route 84 into the Rooster Rock State Park parking lot. Research on the Internet had indicated that the clothing optional beach at Rooster Rock on the Columbia River, was one of two official clothing optional beaches in Oregon. The large rock edifice, from which the park gets its name loomed up over the river, but if I can remember properly it was on the Washington State side of the river. Taking a sling bag with towels, sunscreen, sunglasses and hats, my wife dressed in a pullover/off dress sans underwear, we set out on the path to the river beach. It wasn’t long before we met other users coming out of the park who told us that the path through the reeds was flooded, muddy and slippery, but passable. We decided to venture on, determined for some all over heliotrophy. In places the path was mid-calf deep in water, there were muddy patches but after a twenty minute walk we came out onto the open field that was the beginning of the clothing optional beach. At first we only noticed solitary men who had taken up sun bathing spots in the seclusion of the reeds. They had folding camp chairs and tables with umbrellas, reading books and magazines. At first they were most alarmed to see my wife, a clothed female, coming into their naked haven. One man actually got out of his chair and ran bare bummed away from us as if we were aliens.

“Take off your dress.” I quickly said to my wife “That will reassure them that we are also naturists and come in peace.” This she did and it worked, for faces of concern turned to faces of acceptance as we were welcomed to the fringes of the nudist area. We realised afterwards that we must have come down the path to the predominantly gay area. Reaching the sandy beach we found that the sand was conveinently scattered with occasional clumps of tall river grass providing both wind and privacy protection. We spread our towels 20 metres from the rivers edge and settled into an afternoon of nude sunbathing and swimming in the mighty Columbia River.

Once we were settled into our “spot” we had time to take in the other naturist groups on the beach. Next to us were a young couple with a toddler child, all without clothes, making sandcastles and carrying water in plastic buckets from the river to fill castle moats. It was wonderful to watch these young naturist parents playing with their child. They were doing what most textile beach goers would do but in the natural nude. It was obvious from their tans that this was not their first naturist outing and certainly not their last. They were engulfed with serenity and totally stress free.

Now in contrast to the above there was a group of about eight late teen boys playing football on the sand in front of us. From their accents we gathered or guessed that they were Russian or of Eastern European origin. Here these guys were with stength in numbers, but all were fully clothed, tee shirts, socks and sneakers playing a ball game on a clothing optional beach on a glorious sunny afternoon! The naturists were unperturbed by them as they were unconcerned by the naked bodies spread across the beach. Every now and then their ball would come to us. On one occasion when one of the boys came to recover their ball from my naked wife, she asked them why they did not take their clothes off and join in the spirit of naturism on the beach. He obiously could not undestand my wife and muttered “Het” and wandered back to the game. They continued to play all afternoon with us walking nude through their game to get to the river for a swim.

The sand beach continued its shallow gradual slope into the clear tanin coloured water. As we were swimming in the shallows there was little risk of river currents. It was funny to be swimming naked in this huge river watching large ship river traffic about 200m from where we were. Boat crews must have been aware of the Rooster Rock nudist beach for they all waved and we waved back.

There was another family group down the beach, it looked like a two family outing with parents and teenage children. It was a summer picnic occasion with the traditional hot dogs, corn on the cob, watermelon with cold beer and wine in copious supply. The parents and boys were all clothes free. The two teenage girls, one from each family were clothed in their bikinis. They were continually being badgered by their family and friends to loose their bikinis and enjoy the freedom of naturism. This did not happen, well not initially anyway. We noticed that during the course of the afternoon the girls were drinking beer and wine and getting very playful and giggily. Eventually they went into the river about waist deep and started a wrestling game. After a lot of mauling and groping each other they managed to get each others bikini tops off, exposing their teen breasts. Ultimately, to the applause of the family/friend group on the beach they removed their bikini bottoms. After that they were totally uninhibited about their bikini-less bodies and played as teenagers in water and on land with each other as well as the other boys in the party. A tick for two more young potential naturists.

A most bizzare procession emerged from the flooded reed lined path to the beach. Various people were carrying large black suitcases whose roller wheels wouldn’t work in the flooded path or sand. There were about six in the party. They set up to our left with a large rock as their backdrop. Soon tripods and reflective photographic screens were being erected. One suitcase opened up and it was a full stocked mobile make-up case, another complete hairdressers equipment. Cameras were put on the tripods. We realised that they were definitely not naturists, but that this was some sort of commercial photo shoot. The model had the atypical long blonde hair, which was brushed couiffed and sprayed in the afternoon breeze. She then removed her blouse exposing her to-be-photographed breasts. The make-up lady touched up her face then used a small camel hair brush to apply a tan coloured blusher between her breasts and other spots on her ample chest. The photographer then proceeded to take a multitude of pictures of this topless model from all angles asking her to turn this way, bend forward, backwards, lean against the rock. All of this was done with abandon, the topless model having been through the routine before without any concern for us naturist onlookers. It must have been a commercial shoot for some girly magazine. She could have been a famous fashion model for all we knew. But surely it would have been easier at another location where one would not have to carry all the shoot equipment through and over flooded reeded paths to reach Rooster Rock clothing optional beach.

We had noticed a young fully clothed black (Afro-American) boy wandering around the beach all afternoon with back pack and obligatory earphones. He never sat down or swam just kept walking among us. He must have been in his twenties. “Was he a voyeur on this nudist beach with a hidden camera?” were thoughts that must have gone through our minds as well as the minds of other naturists on the beach. Late afternoon we reluctantly packed up our towels and decided to maximise our clothes free experience by walking back to the parking lot in the nude. As we got to the reeded flooded path we met the young clothed black man. He walked with us and eventually my naked wife started to talk to him saying how it had been such a beautiful sunny afternoon and how we had enjoyed the opportunity of being bare at Rooster Rock beach. He said that we were so brave to bare all and that he was so envious of our courage. He said that he had been walking around all afternoon with his towel in his backpack, trying to pluck up courage to strip down in public and join the rest of the naked naturists. He said that he was also consciencious of the fact that he was the only black person on the beach and everyone would stare at him. He said he knew no one on the beach and lacked the confidence to do it on his own. He only wished that he had spoken with us earlier on the beach as he could have gladly joined us in that challenging naturist iniation to public nudity. We really enjoyed our afternoon at Rooster Rock state park, especially the opportunity to notch up a nude swim in the mighty Columbia River.

Squaw Mountain Ranch

One of our next naturist stops was a three night stay in a rented self catering guest lodge at Squaw Mountain Naturist Resort. Tucked away in the Douglas fir forests of northern Oregon it was indeed a scenic and ideal isolated location for a naturist resort. Arriving at the padlocked gate we phoned in our arrival to reception who told us the lock combination. A further two mile drive through the forest bought us to the campsite. We were most impressed in that it was the first naturist resort we had been to where the reception staff were also sans clothes. We were allocated a room in the double storey guest lodge with a shared lounge, dining and kitchen facilities downstairs. After unpacking our few textile clothes we stripped and decided to take the forest trail walk. With only shoes and sun hats we set out on the afternoon hike. The trail started at a forest pond, that despite its crystal clear water was not recommended for swimming. Looking between the reeds and waterlilies we saw our first newts in the wild. There was also a snake sunning itself on the grassy bank. We continued up the trail through virgin forest. It was an amazing sensation to be communing with nature in the nude as was intended. The trail opened out of the seclusion of the forest at the top of the hill and despite being all that more exposed on the grassland trail, we were now confident nude hikers. At a grass knolled peak we had excellent views of Mout St Helen’s volcanic peak in the distance and other north west volcanic shaped mountains. As there were no fences we did not know if we had strayed off the Squaw Mountain property and were now walking a naturel on some one else’s land. We were so enjoying our naked hike we continued onwards realising that we had to keep going left and downwards to get back to camp.

A well earned sauna was on the list when we got back to camp to ease aching muscles. What is so enjoyable about naturism is that one does not have to change out of sweaty hiking clothes or swimsuit, but can just take a communal shower in the nude, soapdown, rinse and get into the sauna. After time in the sauna we again showered and went into the pool to cool off then late afternoon slid into the large hot tub that accommodates eight occupants. A Canadian couple who owned a permanent cabin at Squaw Mountain soon joined us in the hot tub. To our amusement they said that they always travelled from their Canadian home town to enjoy the sun and warmth of naturism in Oregon!.

We had arrived at Squaw Miuntain on a Monday for a three night stay. The previous weekend they were very proud to tell us Squaw Mountain had sucessfully hosted the Naturist Music Festival that had been well attended by both musicians and naturists from far and near. That evening we headed to the showers which were an open plan unisex affair with no dividing cubicles. My wife and I had almost finished showering when we were joined by a young single man, tall with blonde hair (confirmed) and exceptionally good looking. If Michealangelo ever wanted a model to pose for another David statue this was the candidate and certainly better endowed that the marble rendition in Florence. It is unusual to get single men at naturist resorts. We left him in the shower and went and climbed into the hot tub which was semi raised on a wooden deck. We were the only ones in the hot tub. The young blonde man finished showering and came over to the hot tub to chat to us. He introduced himself and said that he had been up here for the weekend music festival and had so enjoyed himself that had decided to stay over a few extra days. He was now standing on the deck beween us as we lounged in the hot tub. He must have been about two feet way from us and was busy drying himself with a fluffy white towel. Now taking into account our raised position in the hot tub and his position on the deck in front of us his pelvic area was at eye level for us. He was taking his time in drying himself paying particular attention to drying his penis which was indeed a magnificent specimen. He went on to tell us that he was relatively new to naturism and was enjoying it beyond all his expectations. This while he continued to dry his penis with vigour with his towel. Bear in mind that this performance was taking place not two foot away from our faces. It was evident that his penis was slowly responding to his towelling ministrations. Looking across the hot tub at my wife who was sitting with her breasts above the water I noticed that her nipples were responding to the towelling performance. This young man was obviously getting her aroused.

“You have a magnificent speciman.” I said.

“Yes” he replied “Ten inches when fully aroused.” Now if I ever was to be bi-curious then this young man could have been a candidate. Things were certainly heating up and we couldn’t blame the hot tub. At that point, to break the tension, another elderly couple arrived to join us in the hot tub and she needed help to get in. He joined the two couples in the hot tub. They asked which cabin he was staying in and he said he was sleeping in the back of his van. Walking back to the guestlodge later my wife and I both pondered as to what would have transpired if we had invited this young man back to the guestlodge for beers and dinner. We laughed at the thought and the lost opportunity.

Having enjoyed our naked hike the previous day we decided to undertake another forest trail. Setting out in the direction of the trail head we battled to find where it began and where it went into the dense woods. Our frustration was building when there was a fully clothed man, a resident of the camp, standing on the road ahead of us. My naked wife went up to him and asked about how do we find the start of this woodland trail. He had a long chat with her saying that the trail was very overgrown with wash aways and had not been in use for a few years. While they were chatting I watched in awe, not jealous of a clothed man talking with my naked wife. Not upset by him grazing on her naked breasts, but proud of my wife’s beautiful bare breasts. Thrilled that my wife was a committed naturist who was unphased by being totally nude and talking with a clothed male stranger. I found it arousing to watch her confidence. After the interchange she to said that she experienced an adrenile rush knowng that she was standing in the buff asking a clothed man who she had never met before directions. She wondered if her boby, in all its bold nakedness, had caused the man any arousal. She smiled content.

Bagby Hot Springs

Not far from Squaw Mountain naturist camp, and well worth a visit for their quirkyness, are the Bagby Hot Springs. We drove to the well sign posted car park set in the forest. As we arrived a carload of college boys and girls were just leaving and enthused about the hot springs. “Well worth the walk through the woods.” They all said. The path was well maintained and an easy climb through aristocratic Douglas fir forest. The trees were enormous in girth and height, challenging the redwoods of California. A bridge on the path crossed a mountain river with crystal clear water tumbling over rocks and creating inviting swimming pools. This was about half way to the Bagby Hot Springs. A few toilet outhouses to the right in the forest indicated that we had arrived or were close to our destination. We crossed a small stream coming into a clearing in the forest. A fallen Douglas fir lay across the clearing it’s huge trunk hollowed out to such an extent that it could accomodate about eight adults. This must provide ideal natural shelter in rain or cold weather. There were a bunch of clothed teenagers occupying the hollowed tree trunk when we arrived. They invited us in for a photo opportunity. Hunking down among them we noticed that the air was blue and any remaining wood borers in the old trunk would certainly be high from the marijuana that these kids were smoking. We got out of there quickly before we started giggling. We wandered down to the hot water bathing structures, the objective of our visit. All credit to the Friends of Bagby who build repair and maintain these structures, bath houses and piped hot and cold spring water. This is all done on a user volunteer basis. The first structure was a row of bath houses all made out of wood with a covered wooden porch running along the front. These could easily been from a cowboy movie set. With a creaking wooden door each bathroom had a carved out tree truck as a sit two bath with wooden bung plug, laid on hot and cold water. We decided to leave this treat for last and went down to the next deck terrace. This had three enormous half wine barrels about two metres in diameter and about one metre deep. These are under roof of a large shedlike structure so could be utilised in cold and snowy weather. The end two hot tub barrels were occupied by naked men but we were lucky that the end tub was empty, so my wife and I started to fill the barrel. This required fitting the wooden bung firmly in the outlet hole and letting the hot water, fed by black polyprop pipe, pour into the barrel. Now the hot water was hot, the surface area of the bottom of the barrel large and there was not a cold water supply laid on to the individual barrels. As it got hotter we had to climb out and go to a nearby tap, fill a bucket with cold water and throw this into the barrel to cool the hot water down. We were not the only users doing this as the men from the other two barrels also needed bucket supplied cold water. There was a friendly melee at the only tap with my wife being the only naked woman among the scrum of naked men queing at the tap for hot water. Everyone was wet, got deliberately splashed and some horse play and grabbing ensured with my wife being the prime taget as she tried to push ahead of the queue playfully saying “Ladies first.” At times it looked like a unisex game of rugby in the raw with all the naked bums in the air around the tap.

Now with the large surface area of the bottom of the barrel we realised it would take a long time and many cold water bucket trips to get the barrel to fill to waist deep. As it was getting late we retired to the hollowed tree truck bathrooms where the hot and cold water on tap quickly filled the tub to running over. It was most relaxing to sit face to face in the hot spring tub. Being totally relaxed we decided it was time to head back down the woodland trail to the car park with a definite one last swim in the mountain river under the bridge. The marijuana smoking tree trunk teen occupants had left. Our bodies totally warmed by the hot spring waters we wandered in the nude down the very scenic path passing clothed visitors who were coming up the trail. On reaching the bridge, which was high over the river, we clambered down the bank and found a perfect swimming hole directly under the bridge. It takes courage to go nude, as we all know, but it took extra courage to get into the very cold clear water. Once in the water we swam and soon adjusted to the water temperature. It wasn’t long before we realised that there were people on the bridge watching our cold pool antics, some even taking pictures of our river frolic. Despite our many invitations for them to join us in the river their protestations outweighed the acceptances.

Terwilliger (Cougar) Hot Springs,

The Terwilliger hot springs, often referred to as the Cougar hot springs are located in the Willamette National Forest near Eugene, Oregon. The hot spring flows down a tiered grade, with pools below cooling as they become further and further from the source above. The hot springs were a pleasant drive from Squaw Mountain and presented another naturist opportunity. We drove along the McKenzie River past covered bridges then up a mountain road passing the dam wall. One passes the entrance to the hot springs on the right and had to cross a causeway to find car parking further down the road. We walked back to the kiosk and were asked to pay an admittance fee of US $5 each which we gladly did as these funds go to the upkeep of the facility. The man at the kiosk had a broad Scots accent and told all ticket buyers that they must be aware that the hot springs are clothing optional. The walk up through the forest path was about a third of a mile. There is a roofed shelter where we removed our clothing and hung them on wooden pegs with other user’s clothes. Down a steep bank and we were putting our toes into the top pool which is closest to where the hot spring bubbles out of the bank. This was too hot to start with so like Goldilocks and the three bear’s story we tried the next pool, also too warm, the third pool was just right so we settled in for a good naked soak. There are five pools in total all man-made and maintained. They are not big, probably 10 to 15 feet across. The top pool was occupied by three naked men, the second pool was empty, and my wife and I were nude in the third pool. A mother and daughter of about 20 arrived and they sat in the fourth pool in their bathing suits. We thought that they would relent and join the rest of us naturists in eventually removing their bathing suits once settled in, but they were content in textile. My wife had her arm along the stone dam wall of our pool when she said “Look, a snake.” There on the stones also enjoying the warmth of the hot waters was a snake. We called the others to come and see. The snake was in no hurry to move away so shared the warmth with us, occasionally putting its head to water for a drink. I said to my wife “Being naked in the wilderness with a visit from a snake makes us feel like Adam and Eve.” We felt no sudden urge to find a fig leaf to cover our genitals, nor did we feel like sinners but revelled in our nakedness.

We were joined by another family in our pool. She was a tall young mother with a beautiful trim figure, her breasts full, nipples swollen, as she was still breast feeding her eight week old baby. It was a tight fit in the pool and we were all up close and touching but no one seemed to mind. As with any naturist situation all ice is broken and we immediately started chatting. She was from the area and her family had been coming to the hot springs for four generations to enjoy the clothes freedom. She remembers coming here with her grandparents, she was bought here as a baby to be “baptised” and now here she was bringing her daughter to be baptised both to the hot pools as well as to naturism at its very best deep in the pristine forests of Oregon. I thought this was a wonderful story. We got to hold the naked baby and it loved the soothing of the warm waters, crying when she was taken out to the cooler air. The tall naked mother holding her naked baby look so serene that I was tempted to ask her if I could take a picture of them both. She was happy with the suggestion and at ease being photographed in the nude with her child.

However, the sounds of guitar music broke out attention and picture taking opportunity from the mother and baby. Sitting naked on a tree stump playing his guitar and singing was the young Scots ticket collector who was now off duty and had come to enjoy the waters of the hot springs with us. He said that this was the best job that anyone could wish for. Being paid to collect money at a clothing optional hot spring. Getting into the top, hotest pool he sunk his hand into the hole in the bank where the spring was coming from. He pulled out a large handful of grey clay which he said had amazing properties for the skin. It wasn‎’t long before we had all smeared the warm grey clay over our faces and bodies. We must have looked like a lost tribe of the Amazon, but there was no ritual dancing around a fire.

Willamettans Nudist Club,

New York State; Empire Haven Camp Park

Mexico

            Tulum: Dawn swimsbeach cleaners, long nude walks, Rasta couple with child, toplessness Half moon Bay topless lesbian

originally published at:http://ift.tt/2ralIGR

Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Five

The real life stories of a social naturist

Country Experiences

Apart from the occasional midnight swim or mountain stream skinny dip, my wife and I had never practised naturism. It started in Southern Mozambique, when we were on a dhow cruise tour of the Inhambane estuary in crystal clear tropical waters under a blazing sun. The three Mozambican boatmen, physically well built sailors of the local waters wore only warps around their waists. The dhow stopped at Pansy Island, a sand island only visible at high tide. The tour group of 14 disembarked and went left in search of pansy shells. My wife and I looked at each other considering the heat, the humidity, beauty of the location and the opportunity. We went right. Pansy Island is flat without the cover of vegetation or sand dunes. We both stripped down in full view of the unconcerned Mozambican boatmen and walked along the sand in the glory of our nakedness. The rest of the group noticed and continued with their shell hunting, leaving us alone to enter the clear tropical sea waters of the estuary for a refreshing swim. It felt so natural and normal to do so irrespective of the eyes and opinions of the semi-naked black boatmen and the rest of the tour group. We sun dried as we walked back to the Dhow getting dressed only when near the boat. The boatmen, who had probaly also once swam naked in this idylicc location approved, members of the tour group expressed their verbal consent almost saying that they wished that they had the courage to have joined us in your naturist adventure on Pansy Island.

New Zealand

Wahiki Island Little Palm Beach

West Coast Beaches: Pahia

Lake Tapo 5 Mile Beach

Katikai Caravan Park

Long Beach Russell Maori family

Waitata Bay

Also known as Donkey Bay, this is the closest to an official naturist beach in Northland. It is about 2 kilometers from Russell in the Bay of Islands. There is also naturist accommodation, the Waitata Bay Naturist Retreat, close by.

Uretiti Beach

This is the best-known and most accessible nude beach in Northland, and one of the most popular in New Zealand. It is close to the main highway, just to the north of Waipu and about 40 kilometers south of Whangarei pronounced Fangareri as I was told). The beach itself is part of the long sweep of Bream Bay, from Marsden Point at the entrance to Whangarei Harbor to Langs Beach. There is a DOC campsite at the entrance to the beach. The accepted clothing optional section of the beach is reached by walking to the right for a couple of hundred meters. With views directly out to the Hen and Chicken Islands and the Whangarei Heads in the distance, this is a lovely place to enjoy on a summers day.

Palm hot water springs

The Katikati Naturist Park is the most upscale naturist resort in New Zealand. Although it is by no means 5-star (and there are no cafes or restaurants on site) it does offer the opportunity to be clothes-free is a comfortable and friendly environment. This can best be described as a holiday park/campsite with some upscale facilities. The Park is located near Katikati in the Bay of Plenty, North Island. It is approximately two hours drive south from Auckland or half an hour north of Tauranga. When leaving Katikati on the main road heading south look out for Wharawhara Road on the right. One kilometer down that road, and on the left hand side, you will see a prominent sign identifying the park’s entrance. The Park is in a delightful and secluded spot, in a sheltered valley and with a stream running across the southern boundary. The grounds are well maintained and there are pleasant walks throughout the property. As you would expect from a holiday park, there are sites available for tents, caravans, camper vans and motorhomes. There are also caravans for rent and a range of self contained units, some of which have their own showers, kitchens and toilets.

The most upscale of these is a newly-built two-bedroom motel unit which is very well appointed. At only $100 per night (peak summer season) this probably represents the best value motel unit in the country, clothed or not! The facilities at the Katikati Naturist Park are truly outstanding, and much more than you would get at your average holiday park. The owners have certainly gone to a lot of effort to make this an enjoyable place to stay. In addition to communal shower, washing and cooking blocks for those not staying in self-contained units, the facilities include: Large swimming pool: This is surrounded by a nice grassy area for sunbathing and relaxing. Spa Pools: There are two spa pools, semi enclosed within a pergola. Sauna, Mini Golf, Pool Table, Table Tennis (ping pong), Trampoline, Petanque, Outdoor Chess Wireless internet

There are no eating places on site, or even a store where you can purchase supplies. However, Katikati town is only 3 kilometers away and it has a supermarket and a few cafes and takeaway bars. If you’re not wanting to self-cater and you feel like a nice meal out, however, you won’t find Katikati very inspiring. The best option for a good restaurant is to travel through to Tauranga. The Katikati Naturist Park has a very friendly atmosphere. It is a great place to meet interesting people from all over the world, as it does seem to attract quite an international crowd. Guests tend to be of all ages; they are predominately couples although there are often families there as well. However if you just wish to stick to yourself that is perfectly fine too. The owners have been careful to ensure there are no unsavory elements by having a few rules. Firstly, this is not a clothing-optional resort; although being naked is not mandatory (apart from in the pool, spas and sauna), it is expected unless the weather is bad. However, there is no pressure for newcomers to strip until they are comfortable with the idea – which for most is sooner than they think it would be!

Obviously the best time to enjoy the Katikati Naturist Park is over the summer months. However, the Park sits in a sheltered spot that has its own microclimate. As a result it is pleasant at any time of year. And if it gets a bit chilly there’s always the hot spa to warm up in. If you wish to visit in the height of summer (especially January) it is wise to book ahead. This is a popular place and it can often be full in January. At other times, booking is not essential, but it is advisable, particularly for the motel unit.

Europe

            Hungary: Lake Balaton

Lake Balaton in Hungary is reputedly the largest fresh water lake in Europe. We have been fortunate to have visited this lake on several occasions, in different seasons. One can drive right round the lake (77km) and there is a well maintained cycle track around the lake that is well used. Lakeside towns and developments dot the lakeside and the tourist is well catered for. I have always enjoyed the serenity of the lake.

Perhaps it is the milkiness of the water, the gentle lapping of the waters edge, the morning mist that shrouds the lake, the birds that fly low over the water, the swans that are always gliding past as well as the relaxed holiday mood that is constantly prevalent. Somehow, to me, Lake Balaton is better than any tranquiliser, and indeed an ideal location for two naturist camping sites. The one is on the north bank and the other on the south bank. Now there is a story told in Hungary about how bad the drought is and the lack of rain. In one particular season they said the drought was so bad that Lake Balaton was down 1 metre on the north shore and down 2 metres on the south shore!

We camped for three nights at Bereny Naturist Camp on the north shore and apart from just chilling out in the nude we used the camp as a base to explore the vicinity. We were fortunate to get a campsite for our campervan on the edge of the lake and conveinently close to the communal ablution block. My wife went to brush her teeth in the unisex bathrooms one morning and when she returned she said it was an uplifting experience to be treated as an equal as she had a naked man on either side of her as she brushed her teeth. She said it was strange to a naked female to have two naked men on either side of you shaving. I said

“It would have been an uplifting experience for your two neighbour men if you had decided to shave your nether regions that morning.” My wife said it was also strange not to be able to talk with these two men due the diverse languages of Eastern Europe.

The lawned campsite had well established trees to provide shade for caravans and tents as well as naturists who wanted to get out of the sun. Two wooden piers were built out into the lake that expanded to large wooden sunning decks once in deeper water. Steps from the end of the deck took swimmers into deep lake water without having to wade through the mud and aquatic weed of the shallows. Now these decks, being the ideal sunning location, were usually covered in towels and naked bodies. Due to the confined area of the deck we found that often we were lying closer to a neighbouring naturist than we did with our partner in the matrimonial bed.

Everyone was there to get a tan or read, all done in silence. It was most tranquil. The tranquility of the occasion was broken by a young Italian looking naturist who was verbosely intent on fishing from the end of the deck. His wife or girlfriend preferring to lie on the lawns in the shade of the trees, probably to be away from her excitable partner. He ran back and forth on the pier consulting with his partner which lure or bait to use, this done with much gesticulating he consulted with her as to how far into the lake he should cast. Can you imagine the excitement, shouting and arm gesticulation when he caught a fish. He ran naked, screaming down the dock causing it to rock. He shattered the ambience of the mornings sunning much to the amusement of us other tanning/reading naturists. He was indeed a hyperactive, well tanned, well endowed dark haired young Italian man who appealed to all the women folk with his boundless energy and enthusiasm for fishing. We nicknamed him “Pedro the fisherman.” He was on the dock every day determined to catch as many fish as he could.

Camping Basko Polje

Although not a naturist campsite, this Croatian campground was located right above a naturist or FKK beach on the Adriatic Sea. The campsite is located about eight kilometres from the town of Makarska which is the tourist centre of the Makarska Riviera. The campsite built during the communist era has those large functional concrete structures devoid of any architectual aesthetic. It is set among pine trees that evidently the Romans used to harvest for pine pitch to seal boats. From the camp it is an easy 300m walk to the beach. The Makarskan Riviera claims to be one of the sunniest areas of the northern part of the Mediterranean boasting more than 2,700 sunshine hours per year. Well we can vouch for the sunshine as we had glorious sunny weather the duration of our stay.

Walking from the camp the path winds along the top of a twenty foot cliff with the sandy beach below. As the cliffs receed the path drops down to the beach. At the entrance to the beach there is a well used volley ball court. The textile beach users go to the right whereas the naturist or FKK beach is to the left. There are no sign boards but it is visually obivious a virtual line in the sand. The beach volley ball court is the unspoken divide. With these parameters would it not be interesting to have a textile versus nudist beach volley ball game with each team keeping to their respective, respected sides, Tex to the right, Nat to the left?

With the cliff as a backrest and place to put ones clothes out of the sand we would spread our towels and sunbake on the white sand, aware, but unconcerned about the passing pedestrians on the path above who had an unobstructed view of the naturist beach and its occupants. Due to a long period without rain the sea was crystal clear with fish swimming among and around us. We also enjoyed the high saline content of the sea as it was so bouyant that we bobbed to the surface and floated .

We came down to the beach most mornings returning on the path to camp to get some lunch. Before setting back to camp we reluctantly would get dressed and head back up. One day on our return walk there were four girls, all about eight years old. who had ridden their bicycles along the concrete path above the naturist beach. They had stopped and were gathered in a group looking down at the well occupied beach. The girls did not see us as we walked towards them as they were engrossed at what they saw below. They were pointing and discussing the various naked body forms. Although we could not understand the language they were speaking we could just imagine the conversations among these eight year old girls.

“Look at that old woman!”

“Whoa that man has a big one”

“She’s got a super tan”.

You should have seen the blushes when they realised we were upon them and needed to pass on the path. Was this a regular cycling site seeing trip for this giggle of girls? Certainly enriching their anatomy knowledge and broadening their outlooks. Would they eventually become naturists and occupy this beach? We laughed as we walked away from the embrassed girls, hopefully breaking the tension.

Valalta Naturist Camping

NATURIST CAMP VALALTA

The Valalta Naturist Camp was established at the end of the 1960s on the tame slopes stretching along the northern coast of Rovinj. During its four decades of existence, the camp’s name, Valalta, has become a synonym of unquestionable quality among lovers of this sensitive tourism branch. This unquestionable quality is primarily manifested in the plethora of high-standard services, continuously enhanced in accordance with the special needs of the camp’s loyal guests. The authentic Mediterranean environment that this naturist complex is deeply immersed in and whose beneficial features it preserves, creates an irresistible desire to return. The immediate vicinity of an exceptionally clean sea, which allows you to walk into the sea at any moment and from any accommodation section of the complex, in combination with highly maintained green areas will spoil even the most demanding guest.

Situated between the coastal towns of Porec and Rovinj on the Istrian pennisula

            Croatia:

This naturist beach is located near the charming fishing village Mlini and neighbouring resort of Srebreno, between Dubrovnik and Cavtat. The naturist beach with its own restaurant, is in a secluded bay five minutes by boat from Mlini. A small pebble beach and facilities out of concrete. Mostly rocky, with a small shingle beach

Walking along road    Camping Politin

France

            Spain: Estepona Costa Natura

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Naked, Nudist, Naturist Chapter Three and Four

The real life stories of a social naturist

The Tranquility of Naturism

“There’s something therapeutic about nudity. Clothing is one of the external things about a character. Take away the Gucci or Levis and we’re all the same.” —Kevin Bacon

Yes the first time social naturism is daunting, challenging, exhilerating and frightening crossing the Naturism Rubicon. Its the first hour being in the nude that is the hardest then one realises that this is the most natural thing in the world. The removal of clothes results in the removal of stress with an adrenalin rush then serene tranquility.

Chapter Four: The Convention of Society

“Conventionality is not morality.” —Charlotte Bronte

“The main hang-up in the world today is hypocrisy and insecurity. If people can’t face up to the fact of other people being naked, or whatever they want to do, then we’re never going to get anywhere. People have got to become aware that it’s none of their business and that being nude is not obscene. Being ourselves is what’s important. If everyone practised being themselves instead of pretending to be what they aren’t, there would be peace.”

—John Lennon

“Adam and Eve entered the world naked and unashamed—naked and pure-minded. And no descendant of theirs has ever entered it otherwise. All have entered it naked, unashamed, and clean in mind. They entered it modest. They had to acquire immodesty in the soiled mind, there was no other way to get it.” -Mark Twain

Society convention and its peoples make the laws Laws induced a textile society. Religion clothed naked jungle tribes teaching them the sin of nakedness. Society pressures to clothe the family at any cost. Yes the reality of seasons, geographic location and weather animal fur covering to keep warm. The overdressed society of the Victorian era. Looking at naturist tolerant countries it would appear that first world countries (most developed) have seen the need to relax naturist laws. Their peoples have been restricted and confined by clothing conventions for too long. Tolerance carries a lot of weight in the civilised society equation.

Tolerance in society, in my mind, has always been the yardstick of a civilised society. Remove tolerance and civilisations collapse. Lets look at third world countries (least developed) which particulary under colonialism and religion enforcement have turned from total or partial acceptable nakedness to being clothed. The thought of nakedness and its benefits are strictly forbidden. I read that in Somoa, an island in the South Pacific ocean, men have to wear long sleeved shirts on the tropical palm fringed beaches of this country. That in Fiji when a visiting female tourist removed her bikini top she was shouted at by the concerned locals in a fear that she would be arrested. Is this civilised or enforced Western civilisation norms? Mahatma Ghandi was once asked what he thought of Western civilisation. His reputed reply was “I think it will be a good idea.”

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