Bastille Day Ch. 01

"Good morning again, now that I'm really awake."

"Me too; too early still."

"Um-hmm. Sleep well?"

"Very, out like a log, hoping I wouldn't snore."

"Hm-hmm! I don't think you did."

"No promises that I won't."

"That's all right, though it might have surprised me last night; you know, the first night in a strange room, and then that: 'Who is it? A man? In my room?'"

We both chuckled. Then she snorted and remarked:

"Funny, sharing a room with a man I just met. Oh, ... well, it's happened before, but - hm-hmm - not like this."

"I won't say anything, ... me too."

We both snorted with slight smirks, mine partly because I had lied to be compatible, knowing that the room had never been strange; that it had either been hers or mine, but that it hadn't been like she was implying: the first time I was in the room. After a moment she asked:

"How do you think the others are getting along?"

"As well as we are, I hope."

"Yes. If not, they may have more trouble with all this."

"I don't think we will."

"I don't either."

We smiled again. Then she snorted with a smirk and almost whispered:

"Want to know a secret?"

"I doubt that we'll have many by the end of our vacation."

She nodded and shook her head, smirking again. I snorted with a nod and added:

"If you want to tell."

"You'll see, anyway. After watching all those videos, I wondered if I shouldn't shave."

"Hm-hmm. Those are the ones those voyeurs look at, not the old, fat ones. I'll see."

"I didn't."

"Ruined my anticipation. Not that you didn't, that I can't keep wondering for a couple of hours."

"Sorry about that."

"Why not?"

"Thought I couldn't, shouldn't at my brother's, would have been too much of a demonstration."

"Hm-hm-hmm! Sort of like: I can let my brother see me in the nude, but not remind him of those videos."

"Something like that. And then, well, I guess I could have before the trip, but didn't, thinking I could wait and decide here."

"Hm-hmm! If your tan is as good elsewhere as what I've seen of it, that could look funny, kind of calling attention to it."

"Hmm! I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, it would. Hm-hmm! Little white triangle: look everyone!'"

"You might even get on a video."

"Oooh! You think that will be problem?"

"I doubt it, at least, not for me."

"Now you're ruining my anticipation."

"Sorry. Just to take the edge of your disappointment."

"You're teasing, I hope."

"Hmmm, ... I hope you think I was."

"Me too. Anyway, thanks for saving me the effort of shaving."

"Seems like it would be a delicate operation."

"Um-hmm, especially the first time."

"Like boys learning to shave."

"Yeah, I guess."

We were silent for several moments, exchanging brief smiles about our conversation. Then I asked:

"What else can we talk about?"

"Anything almost ... after that."

"You wanted to tell me a secret."

"But it turned out to be good that I did. ... Do you think the girl from South Boston really has red hair and dyed it?"

"I doubt it; not that many flaming redheads, but it was a good joke."

"Um-hmm, but she has fair enough skin to be one."

"Not so good for sunbathing, her problem."

"Or his, but he probably won't mind keeping her well covered with sunblocker."

"But she won't have any excuse to return the favor."

"But I can."

"Yes, please, if you meant it like that."

"I did."

We smiled again. After a few moments, she said:

"Now your turn to think of something to talk about."

"Hmm? ... Hm-hmm! 'Anything almost'. Almost."

"What?"

"Not the first thing that came to mind."

"Okay, then no 'almost'."

"Really?"

"'Really.' What came to mind?"

"Hmm! If you insist; I was wondering what color your nipples are."

"Hm-hmm! You'll see, ... but they're more tan than pink."

"Nice, I like that; show up better with your tan."

"Hm-hmm! True, ... and - hm-hmm - show up better if you keep talking about them."

"Oh, nice!"

We smirked with chuckles. I snorted and said:

"You didn't tell me to stop talking about them. How does it feel when they pop out."

"Uhmm! Kind of good, right now; ... usually. Oh, I guess I don't always notice, like when I am suddenly surprised or scared. Oh, it's usually nice, even when they do when some stranger's glance makes them pop out, even if it is a little embarrassing. You're not a stranger."

"Thanks. Mmmm, you don't have to ask me the obvious question: it always feels good, just embarrassing at the wrong times."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I didn't ask, but now I know. ... I'll remember that it feels good and hope you don't feel embarrassed."

"Thanks, I probably still will be."

We were silent with just the smallest smiles, as I thought that she had also noticed that we both hadn't used the subjunctive, that we were both assuming that she would see me with an erection, maybe wondering like me, if it would be just because we were naked. She snorted with another slight smile, and we were silent for a longer period than before. Finally, she murmured:

"I like this, being able to talk about it; will make it easier when we do."

I nodded, wondering: when we do what? If we didn't change the subject, it could become embarrassing for me. She must have thought something similar:

"What time is it? When did they say breakfast would be served?"

"Can't remember, just that we're all going to meet at eleven."

"We could get up. If it isn't served yet, we could take a walk, or afterwards, if it is already."

"Good idea. Another shower? I need to shave. I shave under the shower."

"Then I'll take one, too."

"You go first; won't have to wait so long, if I do."

She smiled with a nod and threw back her covers and sat up. She stood up between the beds and walked around hers. At the door to the bathroom, she hesitated, and then turned back to me with a slightly sheepish smile, hesitating again, and then said:

"I don't think we need to wait till the beach, ... after all we've said."

Before I could reply, she gathered up the bottom of her shorty nightgown and began to pull it over her head. She did have a nice tan, and her nipples were more tan than pink, and were popped out. And she didn't have the bottom on! Her face reappeared, with a more sheepish smile. She murmured:

"I took it off in the bathroom, don't usually wear it."

She just stood there, letting me look at her, blushing I discovered when my eyes returned to her face. I had to say something:

"Nice tan, and they are tan. beige."

"And feel good."

She smirked and rubbed her forearm over her tight nipples, without much effect.

"Still feels good," I remarked.

She nodded with smile, then snorted and said:

"Hope I'm not embarrassing you."

"Not quite. Lovely, and you can't shave, too well tanned."

"I knew that."

She dropped her nighty on her bed and turned to go in the bathroom, leaving the door open. I caught glimpses of her moving before she stepped in the shower. I wondered if was better stay in bed until she was almost finished, or rather to get up and take off my shorts, hoping that being naked for a couple of minutes might get me accustomed enough to it that it wouldn't be embarrassing. I chose the latter and went to the window, looking out at the water and up and down the road in front of the hotels, wondering what people wore between the hotels and the beach.

I expected her to call me when she was finished in the bathroom, envisioning her standing by her bed. Of course, she would still be naked, smiling expectantly, waiting for me to turn around. Maybe it was nice that my penis wasn't as small as it could be the first time she saw it. It wasn't going to be embarrassing. I heard the shower stop and the curtain rings move, and then she called immediately: "Shower's free."

She wouldn't be waiting by her bed, probably not even see me turn around and walk to the bathroom, but then we would both be in it, both naked, in close proximity, like with her brother in the kitchen, probably closer. The thought flashed through my mind as I turned, seeing her drying herself in the bathroom. Hotel bathrooms weren't designed for two persons, even this one for a room four people could sleep in.

When I entered it, she just glanced at me, unconcernedly drying herself, as she stepped back in front of the toilet; very unconcernedly, drying her back, her breasts moving, as she drew the towel diagonally up and down. If she glanced down, she would see that my cock was not unconscious of the situation. I glanced down. No, she really couldn't shave; her little triangle of hair would have blocked out any light from the sun. I had to get my razor before stepping into the bathtub. When I had, I didn't have to look to know that she was then drying her pussy. Did she call it that?

Then I was alone behind the shower curtain. It hadn't been embarrassing, not the way we had been talking about it; just two nude people seeing each other that way for the first time. I could have remembered to suck in my stomach, however. I turned on the shower and said:

"You were right; no reason to wait till the beach."

"It was becoming a little foolish to maintain the proprieties, when we knew we would."

"Um-hmm, and nice, just a nice prickle, being in here with you."

"I like it too. ... Hm-hmm! And you didn't have to take the edge off my disappointment."

"Hmm! Nudists don't look."

"Just once. Didn't you?"

"Twice, three times - more places to look."

"I told you it felt good."

"Not for me, ... just looked good, ... liked what I saw."

"Thanks. ... Am I supposed to say the same thing?"

"No; I wouldn't believe you; nothing special."

"If you don't want me to. ... I'll wait."

We were silent, while I wondered just how she meant that. I could see that she was still in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and drying her hair. Had it been wet? Hadn't she washed it before the flight. Yesterday? Now wanting an excuse to stay in the bathroom? I began to shave, sometimes a inspiration for brilliant thoughts, if any of mine were "brilliant." Not brilliant but direct:

"Didn't you wash your hair yesterday?"

"Yes. Sort of forgot, until it was wet again."

"Just 'sort of' forgot'?"

"Um-hmm."

"To be here when I've finished?"

"Um-hmm, why not? You don't mind?"

"No, ... just wondering."

"I like it, ... like this, ... and like we were talking in bed."

"Um-hmm, I do too, did too."

"Teasing a little."

"Getting to know each other better."

"Um-hmm, yeah, that's better, says it better."

"I'm lucky. Who suggested that we pair off by age?"

"I can't remember, but it was a good idea."

"For us, anyway. Hope you agree."

"I do, ... also lucky."

"Hope the others are too."

"Um-hmm."

I had finished shaving and opened the shower curtain. She smiled at me, and I returned her smile. She handed me a towel, and I began to dry myself. She had finished drying her short hair and sat there, brushing it as she watched me, mostly looking at my face, and I, at hers, not without a glance or two at her breasts. When her nipples tightened, she just snorted with a smile and murmured:

"Feels good."

I was drying my penis and scrotum, hidden by my towel, and replied:

"Here too."

Her eyes dropped down for a moment and then returned to mine. She snorted with slight smirk and replied:

"Even if it doesn't look like it?"

"Hmm! Maybe I should have said: for me too."

"But you didn't."

"Freudian slip."

We both chuckled. I stepped out of the tub and dried my legs and feet, putting them up on the edge of the tub. If she wanted to see my penis and balls, she could have. Yes, I guess I could have turned the other way. I hung up my towel and combed my hair. She stood up, and we left the bathroom and put on our clothes from the evening before, smiling as we watched each other.

"Breakfast?"

"Breakfast."

In the elevator, when our hands touched, we held hands, smiling at each other again. Breakfast was already being served, a generous buffet. Even the scrambled eggs looked good, not too dry or too runny. With our plates, we sought a table, finding San-culotte and his friend sitting with the two women who shared a room. We greeted them and sat at the adjacent table. Someone said: "the early risers," and we nodded, looking around and seeing that no one else from our group was there.

They included us in their conversation, and we learned that one of the women had been to Club Med at Cancun. The other one admitted with a chuckle that she was a secret nudist in a conservative community in the Midwest, a school teacher, whose reputation would be ruined if any parents knew what she did on vacations.

That changed our opinions of them, since they both didn't look like they were nudists, but, of course, we had all met on Literotica, which suggested that they - and all the rest of the group - were open minded, not just about nudism. When one of them mentioned that, Marge gave me a slight smile, and I thought Sans-culotte and his friend also smiled.

Eventually, others from our group appeared and were greeted. Then the six of us left our tables, and Marge and I went out for our walk, soon holding hands again. We speculated with smirks if the others might change rooms - with a brief tighter clasp of our hands. Then I told her about my question about what people wore before they were on the beach. We timed our walk to return to our hotel by 10:30, and had ample opportunity to observe more experienced vacationers leaving their hotels.

Back in our room, we changed and with her towels and suntan lotion joined the group in the lobby. We were, of course, curious to see if we could tell how the other roommates had gotten along. It looked as though "South Boston" and "Harvard" were very compatible, also the apparently gay men and the elderly couple. The others seemed to be agreeably satisfied with their roommates. The two young men looked tired, and admitted that they had found a disco.

Then we were on the beach, seeing other with nothing on, or just a bikini bottom, men also with just the minimum, a "cache-sex," as we learned. With more or less aplomb, we took off whatever we were wearing, revealing varying degrees of tanning. I wondered if anyone notice that Marge and I smiled slightly and thought that we had already seen each other naked - or maybe more.

It seemed that we all were curious about "South Boston." She seemed a little coy about stripping, but grinned as she revealed her pubic hair, almost black, like her other hair, and remarked:

"I was thinking of bleaching and dying it flaming red as a joke. We all snickered with grins. Her roommate smiled indulgently, as though he already knew what color her pubic hair was and maybe had heard her joke.

Hers was the only comment about their own or others' nudity. I was surprised that the two women from breakfast were shaved, but not that one of the younger women was. I had seen too many shaved pussies on internet to be curious about the first ones I saw in the flesh.

Marge and I settled down on her beach towels. When I lay down on my stomach - not to hide anything - she immediately snorted and said that I needed sun lotion on my fanny. When I replied that she didn't, she smirked and insisted:

"Oh yes I do."

We both enjoyed spreading lotion on each other, and that the other one did. It was a good thing that I was lying on my stomach from the way she was doing it. It was a couple of minutes before I dared to sit up and do it to her, my embarrassing problem not helped by her appreciative comments. I didn't venture to see if others had the same problem, and lay back down again. She found my hand, grinning at me with her head down on her towel, and asked:

"Embarrassing?"

"Hmm! Too, but felt good."

"For me, too."

"But we're each going to have to do our fronts ourselves."

"Uhmm, pity!"

"You want everyone to know how compatible we are?"

"Not here."

She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed hers. Still good that I was lying on my stomach.

Half an hour later, she smiled and asked:

"Can we turn over now?"

"If you don't do or say anything."

"I won't."

"Not even make a demonstration of doing your breasts."

"I'll try not to."

"I won't look, ... and don't you either."

"Hmm! Don't want it to get a sunburn."

"You guessed it, and don't need your comments."

"That I would like to help?"

"Especially!"

We grinned at each other, and she sat up and began to rub lotion on her chest and breasts. Reluctantly, I turned my head the other way. After a while, she lay back down again, touching my hand with hers, her other hand, and murmured:

"Now you can. I won't look or say anything."

I sat up and used the lotion, drawing my thighs a bit to be discrete about applying it to my penis. While doing my legs, I glanced around. The group had disbursed: all roommates together, a couple of pairs together. I snorted when I saw that Sans-culotte and his friend were with the two women, lying with the women between them. The two young men were further away and looked like they were sleeping. The older couple seemed quite comfortable with each other and being nude, both sitting and looking around. She had exaggerated about her breasts hanging, and they were as well tanned as Marge's. I looked down at them, hoping her nipples would pop out, but they didn't. She chuckled and murmured:

"Too warm."

"You didn't say I couldn't look."

"No. Still feels good."

She only snorted when I looked at her triangle of dark hair, neatly small, not like the ones, where the hairs become sparser at the edges. No, the sun couldn't penetrate it. As I lay back down, she snorted again and said:

"Now I can look too, not just now."

"Of course. Sorry for staring."

"Hm-hmm! Why not? I don't mind your looking at me."

Our hands touched again, linking fingers. The sun felt good on my penis, warming it. I knew from experience that it was as full as it could be without stiffening, and that my scrotum was very relaxed, ideal for her to see - if I didn't think any more about it, or her fingers didn't do something to suggest that she was. They didn't, and for a while we dozed.

Suddenly a shadow on my face roused me. I opened my eyes, luckily still in the shadow, else I would have been blinded by the sun. A late teenaged boy in speedo-type shorts was staring down at Marge.

"Scam! Go away! Voyeur!"

He did, I hoped with a red face. I had to close my eyes in the sunlight. Marge's fingers gripped mine, and she murmured:

"Thanks. I didn't know. Who was it?"

"Stupid kid, stupid enough to let his shadow fall on my face."

"Hmm! And the less stupid ones?"

"As long as we don't know."

"Oh, that was one of the times when they pop out, but I don't notice."

"I'll look next time. Think of it as a compliment that he wanted to look at you."

"I'd rather you did."

"Always a compliment."

Our fingers tightened, and we both hummed in um-hmm. When hers gripped mine a couple of minutes later, I snorted and said:

"Now's a good time for you to look, ... before you do that again."

"Hm-hmm! Before it starts to feel good?"

"And embarrassing."

"Wouldn't want that ... not here."

"Then it wouldn't be embarrassing."

"Just feel good? That's nice to know."

"Better look now."

We both snorted, and she sat up and did, glancing around to avoid seeming to stare, but then snorting again, when eyes returned to it and saw that it was beginning to stiffen. She smiled at me and said:

"Maybe we should test the water. People do also swim here."

"Good idea."

I sat up, knowing that my penis was going to stand out a little when I stood up. So be it. In the videos, others had been like that; couldn't surprise the natives, maybe others in our group. Make them envious that we were getting along so well? Maybe help break the ice of the other mixed couples? I hoped so, as Marge and then I stood up.