Sunglasses, Sandals, Nothing Else

Who was I to argue? We picked up our towels, refilled our beers, and headed out to the fenced-in patio. Some benches and lounge chairs sat in shade but we chose a sunny picnic table and people-watched.

In the chairs, more than a few naked women sat in male laps, squirming and moaning. More than a few women moved between male laps, almost a musical-chairs game but not synchronized with the dance music from the outside speakers.

Mira had me turn on the bench seat so she could sit in my lap, lean back against my chest, slip my hard cock into her, and squirm and groan. She finished before me and made room for Paige whose active cunt muscles provoked my orgasm after her own. Good thing she was not a wailer.

Other women (and men) were noisier but this was a private space, not public sex, so no crimes here, officers. Fuck, for all I knew, some of the members could be cops. Out of uniform, ha.

Lakshmi and 'call me Johnny' came outside. He took a lounge chair; Mira stared at his horse-cock and went to sit in his lap. Hot auntie Nadine followed them out, smiled at me, and found a friendly lap to inhabit.

Lakshmi, blatant as usual, folded her towel to protect her nice knees as she knelt between Paige's thighs and slurped juices from her wet pussy and my soggy cock. She pulled Paige's face to hers and shared our creampie, then bent again to blow me. Insatiable slut, remember? But I did not revive quickly so she stood, looked around, and sashayed to an empty lap and its big black cock. She settled down with a happy sigh. Big black fingers pinched her nipples. She squirmed and moaned.

Paige and I drained our beer mugs. She wiped us clean and waved at a circulating lovely waitress in a loincloth for refills and fresh towels. She filled my lap, leaning back. I held her rather nice breasts. We twisted our heads to kiss. I tasted ale and cum. I did not mind.

"A 'clothing optional event', huh?" she smirked. "More like a legal orgy, not just Nude Day. It's a great excuse." She wiggled off to sit beside me.

Rosa and Dalia came outside, waved at us, and found adjacent empty laps. Their guests Alyssa and Tshombe followed and came to our long bench.

"Hi guys," Alyssa said, "school's out, mind if we join you?"

She sat beside me; he sat at Paige's other side. She looked at my exercised crotch.

"Ooh, that's a nice one! May I play with it?" She was so polite!

She fisted my ruddy cock without waiting for an answer. Rudely impetuous, then.

Paige briefly watched us, nodded, and took matters (and Tshombe's big black cock) in hand. He inflated in her grasp.

"Let's have fun," Paige said. She knelt before him and licked his mouth-watering ebony manhood.

"Good idea," Alyssa said. She knelt between my thighs for fellatio. She was damn good.

Tshombe and I sat nearly side-by-side with each other's woman on her knees, wetly blowing us. What could we American guys do but grin and high-five?

What else? Well, we could get fucked.

Alyssa stood, turned, and dropped carefully into my lap, impaling herself on me. With no hesitation, Paige turned and took Tshombe into her pussy.

Patio-goers around us engaged in various forms of sucking and fucking but I focused on the butt nestled in my groin, the firm black breasts in my grasp, the vaginal muscles working my cock like wet fingers... but not on Paige fucking the guy beside me. I tried to ignore who was there and their sounds and vibes.

Paige and I had our own lives, and she had not brought a guy to my home, so I discarded my head's jealousy lobe and let my reptile brain have its way. I fucked up into taut, tight, sweating Alyssa, syncing my up-strokes with her down-slams, and pinched her thick nipples, and bit her neck, marking her as mine... for the moment.

My jealousy lobe yelled about foreign hickies on Paige and foreign sperm in her. My reptile brain yelled to shut up and fuck. So I fucked.

Our shared bench was shaking under our steam-hammer sex vibrations. We avoided collapsing it by shooting jiz into hungry cunts and calming down, dripping.

We circulated after that. I did not try to track or remember all who sucked or fucked me, or whose male or female genitals Paige had imbibed. This was not an event to tabulate. Just another orgy, right?

We could still communicate. After much beer and sex and the oh-dark-hundred 'last call' warning, Paige emerged from a final clusterfuck and took my hand. "Let's go." I only nodded.

We headed for the restrooms and cleaned ourselves as best we could, fetched our clothes, and walked naked under the stars to my pickup. I was in no shape to drive; I peeled off the tarp, spread sleeping bags, and we huddled and snored till sunrise. We ignored noises of vehicles leaving the parking lot and sex sounds swirling from those remaining.

.

===== Saturday =====

Yet another dawn blowjob woke and revived me.

Paige kissed her way up my worn but willing body.

"Fuck me, Greg. You're the best. You really are. Fuck me."

My jealousy lobe warned, 'sloppy seconds, no, more like sloppy thirty-thirds.' My reptile brain insisted, 'fuck fuck fuck'.

The lizard won. I rolled between her open thighs and shoved my brainless dick into her used cunt.

Anger rose after a few strokes. I pulled out and flipped her over.

"Big Dawg says, 'On your hands and knees, bitch!' Now!"

I slapped her warm, rather nice ass. She assumed the position and looked over her shoulder at me.

"I'm your damn bitch and you're my hellhound. Fuck me, Greg!"

That is just what I did, with no pretense of gentleness. I fucked her hard, mauled her rather nice swinging tits, bruised her slim hips, and pistoned without mercy. Woof!

She scrunched down and freed a hand to frig herself... a clear signal that we were on our own, orgasm-wise. She diddled for her pleasure and I pounded for mine. Almost an Ayn Rand plotline: enlightened self-interest, fuck the world!

I changed angles and pounded deeper. She moaned a soft wail. I slowed, grunted, and erupted, deep, deeper, sending vicious sperm into her womb to do battle with any previous wigglers. MY bitch! MY immortality! I should have howled.

My reptile brain was proud of me.

Paige collapsed under me and I laid on her now, supporting my weight on my elbows and her butt. We both sighed. I rolled off her. She held me close.

"Thank you, Greg," she whispered. "For this. For everything. For letting me be me. You really are the best." We kissed.

I dug out a fairly clean towel and we wiped-down each other.

Sex sounds emerged from around us, from parked vehicles, and even closer. I sat up and saw a few couples fucking or relaxing on sleeping bags on the ground. Paige sat up naked beside me and peered at the scene.

"Must be folks with motorbikes or sub-compacts," she said.

Mira's moped was not chained to its post. I hoped she had fun.

The rink's door was wide open with a COFFEE banner strung above. Derek was a smart guy, I thought.

I bent to lick Paige's nipples. "Let's cover up and get going before sheriffs get here."

She bent further to kiss my dickhead. "Good idea." She squeezed my balls and sat up. "Yeah, time to go. I need to get to the store before long."

I licked her nips again, then twisted and retrieved yesterday's clothes. Lying, sitting, and standing, we comically managed to dress. Others around us, in or out of vehicles, contorted and dressed. We hopped down and beat the rush to the snack bar.

Industrial-strength coffee and fat Danish pastries powered us for the drive homeward.

=====

She leaned against me as I drove. I guess she thought this a good time to plot our future.

"Greg, I have a suggestion. I'm set for UCLA this fall. My family has a store and apartment just off-campus in Westwood. The clerk there is moving on and I'll take the flat, not pay for a dorm. I don't know your plans after your summer session but try this: Move in with me. Use your GI Bill and enroll for classes. You can transfer to a closer National Guard unit, can't you? And you can make honest money giving guitar and photography lessons at the store; it has a darkroom and studio space."

She squeezed me. I drove one-handed, squeezed her in return, and tried to keep my mind cool. I had roughly expected an offer like this, and had considered options. I did not want to hurt her.

I squeezed again. "Thanks, but..." She shivered.

"If I move in with you, it's your place, your rules, and you'll bring in all the friends you want. I might feel... overwhelmed."

"Greg, lover, we can work it out. I can be me and you can be you. We can set up—"

"There's something else," I interrupted. "Except for you..." I gave her another squeeze "...and a very few friends, my life has me totally wrung-out. I need major changes, and elsewhere. My Guard obligation is almost done and I don't want to extend. I've done a lot of research and I think I'll do well in San Miguel de Allende, down in Guanajuato state, Mexico. The American Institute there has a renowned photo-arts program, I can use my GI Bill, and living costs are pretty cheap. I picked up a funny accent from my Cuban refugee Spanish instructor but I can probably be understood."

She shivered more and clutched me tight. I continued.

"I'm going to skip the summer session here. I can challenge a couple more courses and get the credits for my Associate's degree. You can keep the house till you head for Westwood."

She sniffled, and stifled tears.

"I didn't think we'd be together past the summer. I told you that when I moved in. But I didn't expect it so soon. And I hoped..." She sat up. "Does this Institute have a good music program? I could use more orchestral training. Can I come with you?"

I had not expected this response but I had answers. A partial answer, anyway. And questions.

"Yeah, I think I read of a conservatory in San Miguel. And it'd be great to have you there. But what about your scholarship, and your family business, and friends? Are you ready to give up all that?"

"Fuck all that!" She was intense. "No, wait... business isn't really my passion, just something I understand. Music is my life. Friends and family, well, we can visit back and forth. I'll need to work on my oral Español; I'm halfway literate. And I can see if my scholarship is transferable. If it isn't, I can persuade Dad to front me tuition and living money. Renting-out the Westwood apartment could cover that, so no loss."

I almost heard microeconomics wheels turn in her head then.

"Greg. Lover. Partner. I want to be with you, in your life, in your heart. In your left ventricle, anyway." She giggled.

"No clawing while you're in there, please. It gets messy." I put on a grim expression. She giggled again. I snorted.

"But really, lover; you really are the best. Let me see what you found on San Miguel so I can work out time and money details, okay? And when do you plan to go? Do you have things lined up, like for enrolling and living?"

She rubbed my thigh; I sensed attempted persuasion. I resisted distraction, and stayed on the road. We were nearly home. This was no time to auger into the desert landscape.

"I'd figured to leave at the end of the month, that's just a couple of weeks. Should have my school paperwork done by then, my degree in hand, my application in at the Institute, and I know where to find rentals. I have a deal with a guy to swap some excess stuff and a little money for a roomy camper shell, lots more secure than a tarp on the back here. Yeah, two weeks, all packed up, and I'll be ready to roll."

"I won't have a lot to take, lover, but if you run out of space, we can store stuff with my family. I can get a truck rack for hauling my motorbike and your ten-speed. We can do this!"

Her voice wobbled. "If you want me."

I pulled into the rough driveway. We were home. I looked into her nervous azure eyes and remembered when she had asked to live with me.

"Got another bribe for me, miz Paige?" I asked deadpan.

"You fucker!" she laughed. "How about a 4x5 Linhof folding field camera? Oh, you'll want a better tripod, too. You drive a hard bargain... as well as a clean old truck. Done!"

She held my hand to her rather nice breast and grabbed my cock through my shorts. My lips found hers for a long moment till I gently pushed us apart.

"Let's get you cleaned and dressed and to the store before it's too late. I'll bring my San Miguel notes along; we can go over those when business is slow. C'mon now; tempus fucking fugit, daylight is burning."

We showered but did not fuck, not now. We would have plenty of time for that, as long as we could tolerate each other. I foresaw a long, surprising path of discovery.

But I wondered about celebrating International Nude Day in Mexico. So much to learn...

.

===== Epilog =====

The Linhof camera was a beauty! Paige stayed pretty cute, too.

Events transpired.

We packed everything vital in the truck, jam-packed. We kissed and fucked friends and family goodbye. Well, no kin-fucking.

We reached San Miguel de Allende with no trouble, even at state-border military checkpoints. (Pro tip: Leave unclean laundry atop your luggage. Troops hate searching through gringos' undies.)

We found reasonable quarters where we could suntan naked in the walled courtyard. This rented casita had space for a darkroom and music rehearsal. This was a plus! We learned that many Nude Days were indeed celebrated in discreet private courtyards.

I had left the Guard just in time. Soon after, my old unit was sent long-term to the sandbox. I was happy to be elsewhere.

And we learned to accept each other's foibles and new friends. These were good years.

THE END?

=====

Author's note: This fiction (much composed on a little Android tablet) is copyright © 2021 by Hypoxia Smurf so don't steal it. No follow-ups are planned but you never can tell. Constructive comments are always welcomed. If you enjoyed this, join the 1%ers and VOTE, dammit!