Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 01

She made me laugh. Her sense of humor continually kept me off guard.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Sure, I love it."

I was thinking, 'What guy wouldn't like a perfect butterfly tattoo on a perfect girl's butt cheek?'

Emily continued, "To me, the butterfly represents beauty, love, and freedom. An ugly caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly. I think of it as me changing from a girl into a woman to do what I want.

"Now are you ready for a tour of the house?"

"Okay," I said. "Lead the way."

There were three bedrooms at one end of the house. The guest bedroom was next to the home theater. The other two spacious bedrooms were opposite the home theater. Emily's bedroom was mostly pink, adorned with several of her favorite teddy bears and dolls she'd saved from childhood. The master bedroom was huge, with a couple of French doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the valley. Each bedroom had its own full bathroom with a large shower and an electronic bidet.

Emily showed me the home theater. I counted ten reclining theater chairs and a large-screen TV at the front of it. On the other side of the home theater was the kitchen and dining room. The living room and front entry were off to the side, facing the valley.

The living room's floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, made it feel airy. They provided a breathtaking view over the valley below. A large stone fireplace, in the corner between the large windows, gave the living room a cozy setting. The living room floor was marble.

Emily pointed out that there were heated water pipes under the floors in the home. She said the warm floors were more comfortable on bare feet than cold marble, and the thermostat in their home was set to 78 degrees because they were always nude.

Except for the bedrooms, floor-to-ceiling windows permitted spectacular vistas in nearly every direction. There were no neighboring homes to spoil the scenery.

The lower level held a recreation room, utility room, and garage. Behind their home was a swimming pool, and a Jacuzzi hot tub. The garage held a Lincoln Town Car, a Miata convertible, a car that was in parts, and an empty spot for the Lexus. Emily said the disassembled car was a DeLorean, the auto which was in the 'Back to the Future' movie. Her dad was restoring it, she said. Along one wall of the garage, I noticed two large racks of marine batteries, an inverter, and electronics which I recognized as part of their solar electrical system.

I asked Emily, "Is your house off the grid?"

"Yes," she responded. "We're too far from town, so all our electricity is from solar, our phone service is from cellular towers, and our TV and Internet come from satellite."

After Emily finished showing off her parents' house, she invited me into the kitchen for a soft drink. Lisa was just starting dinner.

"You have a lovely home," I said to Lisa. "The view from your living room is amazing."

I tried keeping my eyes on hers, because women always complain about guys ogling their breasts, but I found it difficult to keep my view above her shoulders. She was a perfect MILF. I did glance down a couple times just to view her butterfly tattoo, but somehow her magnificent nipple got in the way. I wondered if Emily's boobs would someday grow to the size of her mother's.

Lisa responded, "Thank you, we love the view too. That's one of the reasons we had the house built here.

"Since we're nudists, we didn't want close neighbors. John found this property on the mountainside, and we thought it was perfect. The only problem was that we're so far out of town, the school bus didn't come out this way, so we home schooled Emily."

"She told me she missed out on socializing with kids at school," I said.

Lisa had a flustered look, "Oh dear, I'm making a casserole for dinner this evening, but the dish I need is on the top shelf in the cabinet." She pulled a kitchen chair to the counter in front of the cabinet and asked, "Mike, would you be so kind as to steady the chair while I find the casserole dish?"

"Sure," I answered.

While I held the back of the chair, Lisa put her hand on my shoulder and stepped up on the chair seat. She stood up, opened the cabinet, and began moving dishes around in the cabinet to find the one she wanted.

With Lisa standing on the chair, it placed her pussy just above my eye level. I was torn—which way to look? She had prominent, well-trimmed labia, covered with short, well-trimmed auburn pubic hair. In between them, her clitoral hood just peeked out a little. I got a waft of her womanly fragrance mixed with Dove soap. That one glimpse and odor caused my cock to begin inflating. I needed to look somewhere else, so I looked up. Wrong decision—now I was staring at those lovely grapefruit-sized boobs Lisa carried on her chest.

Lisa looked down at me and said, "Mike, I can't seem to reach the one I want. Could we trade places so you can get it?"

'Oh shit,' I thought. 'If I get on that chair, my boner will be on display for the whole world to see.'

"Are you sure you can't reach it?" I asked.

"It's all the way at the back. Since you're taller, I'm sure you can get it," she answered.

Lisa stepped off the chair and brushed against me as we traded places. I took a deep breath, willed my cock to deflate, and stepped up on the chair seat.

Emily giggled, "Mom, be careful. You don't want Mike to eye poke your eye out."

I swear I could feel Lisa's hot breath on it when she laughed. "I think it's larger than your father's," she said, as she cackled at Emily's remark.

"Which dish do you want?" I asked.

"It's the large orange one in the back," she replied.

It took me awhile to move some other dishes around until I could retrieve it. The entire time, I had a sense they both had their eyes on my cock.

I handed the casserole dish to Lisa and stepped off the chair.

"Thank you, you're a real dear," Lisa said. Then she glanced down at my cock, back into my eyes, and added, "Nice one, Mike."

Emily gave me my soft drink and we sat down at the kitchen table while Lisa prepared dinner. A few minutes later, Lisa asked, "Emily dear, would you please make the salad for dinner?"

Emily got some salad makings out of the refrigerator and stood next to her mother, preparing the salad. The two of them, standing together, their backs to me, were so much alike—absolutely lovely. They were the same height, same body build, same naked butt cheeks, same hair color and style. The only way to distinguish my Emily from her mother was the Monarch butterfly tattoo on her left butt cheek.

Lisa finished making the casserole, turned, and bent over to place it in the oven. I was in an almost perfect position to see the womanly treasure tucked between her thighs. Gravity pulled her pendulous breasts toward the floor. Seeing her fleshy labia from behind kept my cock hard once again. Being a nudist wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

* * *

John returned home from the 'emergency' at the plant and came into the kitchen, naked.

His first words were, "I'm hungry as a bear. What's for dinner?"

Lisa replied, "I made your favorite pork chop-rice casserole."

"Thanks," he said, and walked across the kitchen to her.

He wrapped his arms around Lisa and gave her a full body hug and a kiss on the lips. I noticed his large uncircumcised cock remained limp. If I'd hugged her like that (or any beautiful nude adult female for that matter), I'd have had a boner she'd have been able to do chin-ups on. I figured it was a matter of self-control, which I didn't have.

The Thompson's were gracious hosts. At dinner, I got to know Emily's family a lot better. I learned they'd lived in their home since Emily was six years old.

John told me his father founded the chemical plant, and he took over when his father retired. When I asked what kind of chemicals his company produced, he said specialty lubricants and solvents.

I wasn't familiar with specialty lubricants, so he explained that his company filled a niche market for lubricants which could withstand extremely high or low temperatures. He mentioned applications for rockets, satellites, tiny gears, and machinery for arctic climates.

He asked if I'd like to take a tour of the chemical plant the day after Thanksgiving. I agreed. He said Emily had seen it all before, so she wasn't going with us.

* * *

After dinner, we watched a movie in the Thompson's home theater. When the movie ended, Emily went to the recreation room. "Pool or darts?" Emily asked.

"Pool," I said.

Emily beat me handily at three games of pool, so I suggested we play darts. She beat me at darts, too. By the time 11 PM rolled around, we were both sleepy. We returned upstairs to find John and Lisa in the kitchen. John was helping her with pre-Thanksgiving dinner preparations.

Lisa asked, "Who won?"

Emily laughed, "I beat his butt."

Both John and Lisa turned and gave her a look. Emily thought about what she'd said, then said, "I won—I didn't touch his butt."

"Well you'd better go to bed," Lisa said. "We're going to be busy tomorrow with Thanksgiving dinner."

Emily gave me a chaste kiss goodnight in front of her parents, and I gave her one back. We said goodnight and I headed to the guest bedroom and Emily headed to her bedroom.

* * *

I awoke on Thanksgiving morning to the smell of coffee. The sun was just coming up, shining through the large window onto the wall. I heard footsteps coming down the hall—it was Lisa. She asked if I liked ham and eggs. I said I did, and she said breakfast would be served in about twenty minutes. It gave me enough time to shower.

I didn't have to think about what to wear, because I was already dressed—or undressed for the day, depending on how I wanted to look at it. I smiled. That was one benefit of being a nudist I hadn't considered before.

John's parents arrived around noon. They came into the house already nude. Emily introduced me as her boyfriend, to her Grandpa Fred and Grandma Betty Thompson.

When you're introduced to a naked person, where are you supposed to look? I know it's bad manners to stare, but Emily's Grandpa Fred was well-endowed. It appeared he was carrying half a Polish sausage between his legs. Emily's grandmother Betty was a few pounds short of chubby, but she was a hot-looking woman.

They appeared to be about sixty. Fred was balding, with white hair mixed with auburn around his head, on his chest, and pubic area. I noticed he had the same bright bluish-green eyes as Emily, Lisa, and John. Betty had brown hair on her head, but I happened to notice she had a full bush of pubic hair with a few white ones mixed in with the brown ones.

While we were chatting, I noticed Grandma Betty's eyes on my nearly-erect cock.

Emily saw what her grandmother was watching and announced for everyone to hear, "Mike is a first-time nudist, so he's having a little problem."

Grandma Betty responded, "It doesn't look like a little problem to me, and it's so nice to see a virile young man's sporting equipment again. I think I wore Fred's out, because it rarely stands up like that anymore."

Then Grandma Betty patted me on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry about it, son. I'm sure Emily will take care of it for you."

Emily's other grandpa and grandma showed up a little later. They arrived fully clothed, but took off their clothing as soon as they entered the foyer. Emily introduced me to Lisa's parents, Grandpa Bill and Grandma Donna Anderson. Bill was quite tall and thin, with a full head of graying brown hair. Donna was also slim. She had the same Monarch butterfly tattoo as Lisa's on her left breast. Comparing breasts, I'd say Donna's were large, about the same size as Lisa's.

Both of Emily's grandmothers must have been quite good-looking women when they were young. Their breasts sagged a little—not as much as I expected, but then I hadn't ever seen sixty-year-old women's breasts before. Perhaps some plastic surgery had prevented that.

We chatted, getting to know one another. The men separated, gathering in the recreation room. Emily and the other three women went to work in the kitchen preparing Thanksgiving dinner. The smells of cooking turkey, pumpkin pie spice, and other holiday food filled the air.

John opened a bottle of wine for the women to share, then another for all four of the men. He reminded Emily and me that we were limited to a single glass. We watched the end of a Thanksgiving parade and the beginning of a holiday football game. Lisa brought a tray of crackers and cheese to snack on while we watched TV.

For Thanksgiving dinner, we sat down to the typical holiday fare. It was the first time I'd ever been at a Thanksgiving table where everyone was naked. Eight lovely boobs added to the décor at the dinner table. No matter which way I looked, there were boobs. My thoughts jumped back to my family's Thanksgiving table. There was nothing there which compared to this! Before we began eating, Lisa brought out her camera and we all smiled, naked as jaybirds, for our photos.

While John carved the turkey, the mashed potatoes and vegetables were passed around. When John finished, he served everyone. He asked me, "Breast or dark meat?"

Grandpa Bill interrupted, "Give him breast. Being a young man, he'd rather put that in his mouth than anything else."

Everyone laughed, and I blushed. Now I understood where Emily's teasing nature came from.

The food was superb—turkey with all the trimmings, green beans, yams, cranberry sauce, hot rolls from the oven—it was all good. The view of four naked women at the table made it even better. My manhood and I fought a continuing battle as it desired to inflate and I commanded it to deflate.

The dessert was the climax of the meal. Emily's Grandma Donna brought me a piece of pumpkin pie. When she bent over to give it to me, I was looking at her left boob, with its butterfly tattoo, just a few inches from my nose.

"Whipped cream?" she asked.

I was so busy staring at her tattoo that she had to repeat herself. Grandpa Bill saw what was happening and laughed so hard I thought he was going to choke.

"Donna," he said, "don't stick your nipple in his mouth. This is his first day being a nudist, and you're giving him a hard-on," he laughed. Everyone chuckled, and I was the butt of the joke again, so to speak.

After dinner, when everyone was full of turkey and pie, the leftovers were put away, and the dishes had been loaded in the dishwasher, we retired to the living room. Emily suggested we sit in a two-person beanbag chair on the floor in front of the fireplace. We both sank down in the beanbag chair, with our backs to the fireplace, while her grandparents sat on a long sofa facing us, and Lisa sat on John's lap on a chair, off to the side.

Emily started the conversation with, "Grandpa Fred, remember when I was about twelve years old and asked about what you did as hippies? You said when I grew up you'd tell me. Well, I'm grown up now, and Mike would like to hear about those times too, wouldn't you, Mike?"

I nodded my head, "Sure."

Once she got them started, they captivated us with their recollection of what it was like back then.

Grandpa Fred started off telling us about how he'd chosen Berkeley because their chemistry department was one of the best in the 1960's. He said around that time, many college-age students began rebelling about a lot of things. It was a time of civil unrest and political upheaval. The Vietnam War was escalating, and the government had started drafting all eligible males between 18 and 26. He said he didn't want any part of serving in the military in what he considered a waste of men and resources.

He told us about some draft card burning protests. The term, "Make love, not war," became a popular message on their protest posters. "If it feels good, do it," was the content of another favorite for their signs. Drugs and free love were available on nearly every university campus, he said.

He mentioned he didn't know much about hippie culture and wanted to learn more about their philosophy. There were some things he agreed with and some he didn't. The hippie culture preached nonviolence, but at many of the anti-war protests, the police and hippies had bloody confrontations. Even at music festivals, fights broke out. He also said he didn't agree with the hard or hallucinogenic drugs many hippies used. The thing he most agreed with was the sexual freedom.

Fred said when he attended one particular protest, he said he ran into a cute co-ed he knew, named Betty, as he pointed toward her.

Betty smiled when he reached around her shoulder and pulled her toward him.

Fred continued, "We thought alike, and since we'd known each other for a few months, I asked her for a date, and the next thing we knew, we were in bed together.

"Betty and I attended a couple more hippie protests, but we discovered we weren't cut out to be hippies—we were just pseudo-hippies. I let my hair grow, we wore tie-dyed clothing, beads, sandals, and flowers in our hair. What we enjoyed most was the free love."

Betty joined in, "Yes, the reason we didn't become real hippies is that a lot of them totally lacked basic hygiene—ugh. They smelled like livestock; they hadn't bathed in weeks, and I didn't want to be around them. Many of them lived on communes without any running water. Can you imagine going for a month without a bath? I get a little—how should I say it—a little skanky 'down there' after a few days. And when that time of month came around, I needed to wash it."

Donna spoke up, "Not only us girls—guys don't smell very good down there, either, if they don't bathe. I don't put that thing in my mouth if it hasn't been washed first, especially if it has a foreskin covering it."

Grandma Betty was sitting between Fred and Bill. As the conversation progressed, I noticed her left hand was on Fred's thigh. A couple minutes later it had crept toward his crotch. While Bill was talking, her fingers wrapped around Fred's cock. Fred smiled, and glanced toward her, but kept quiet.

"Remember the first music festival we attended?" asked Grandma Donna.

"What year was that?" Betty asked.

Grandpa Bill said, "It wasn't 1967, because that's the year we went to the Monterey Pop Festival."

Grandpa Fred answered, "I think it was 1966, because I remember I took Betty for her 22nd birthday."

Donna replied, "That's right. Well, go on with your story, Fred."

I saw Grandma Betty's right hand was on Grandpa Bill's thigh.

Fred continued, "There was one music festival we attended, and I can't remember which one it was, but there must have been several thousand hippies there. Besides the music, there was plenty of alcohol, drugs, and sex. The hippies weren't modest in any way. There were way too many people for the number of Porta-potties they had, so a lot of guys and gals just relieved themselves along the outer fence. Some of the drunken girls were dancing topless, attracting quite a crowd. Right out in the open was one gal who had sex with half a dozen guys, one after another. After the first three, so many people crowded around her, we couldn't see anymore, but every time a new guy got off her, a big cheer went up. They clapped and cheered, giving one another high fives.

"Back at school, I ran into Bill one day and he said he'd found a two-bedroom apartment near campus for the next semester, but it was too expensive. He said if we pooled our money, we could rent it.

"I took a look at it and agreed, so we obtained a lease. About a month later, Donna moved in with Bill, and a little later, Betty moved in with me. We shared our beds with them."

Donna interjected, "Yeah, they said we could stay there for free, but it turned out we were roommates with benefits. Betty and I saved a lot of money on rent and clothing, though."