It All Started With A Dare

It All Started With A Dare

When they met and became a couple, they like the lines from Bob Seger's song,

Night Moves

,

"I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds. Tight pants, points, hardly renowned.

She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes, and points of her own standing way up high."

And like the couple in that great song, they had pretty much learned their 'night moves' together. But unlike the song's fateful couple, they had stayed together.

Now, instead of 'a little too tall, could've used a few pounds,' he was a little too fat, could've used more height. Middle age had taken a bit a toll on him. He was thankful that he could still see his shoes over his gut -- in fact, he could still see his penis while looking over his gut -- but the man boobs, boy did he hate those. She had had her issues with middle age as well. But he still saw her as that 'black-haired beauty with big dark eyes,' even though her hair was now mostly grey and the eyes not nearly as deep brown as they had been. And for his money, her 'points... standing way up high,' still looked pretty darn good, even if 'way up,' was not how high they were these days.

They had been together through more than most people they knew. But now they were grandparents and in the twilight of his working years. She had retired several years earlier, but he had had several careers and was just reaching full retirement in his last one.

One warm afternoon they were lounging by the small pool they had in the backyard, when he stood, shucked off his shirt and shorts and walked into the water. She almost shrieked at him, "What are you doing? You can't walk around out here naked!"

"Why the hell not?" he asked as he chuckled. "It's my backyard, isn't it? I pay the mortgage on this place, don't I? Shouldn't I be allowed to be naked in my own backyard? Besides," he continued, "people who want to sneak looks into other people's backyards get what they deserve!" With this he laughed loudly and swam away. "Come on in. Throw caution to the wind. Just toss your clothes aside and jump in. We skinny dipped a couple of times when we were younger. Come on! I DARE YOU!"

She sat there for a minute before saying, "I'm not some eight-year-old on a playground who will do whatever you want, just because you dare me to do it. That's not the way things work with adults." But even as she was speaking, she got up and started to disrobe. Once her shirt and shorts were off, she moved much faster with her bra and panties, and she jumped straight in.

After she got used to the water, she swam over to him and said, "For the record, I didn't do this because you dared me. I did it because I remembered how lovely the water felt on bare skin and how free we always felt when we skinny dipped as young folks. But if I hear our security camera out front beep, I'm out of here and dressed!" Then she added, "I also did it because you can't dare me and get away with it!" She splashed him and swam away, laughing.

He immediately swam after her and caught her in the shallow end. He put his arms around her from behind and held her close as he said, "If I had one wish, it would be that you would be more confident in your appearance. Even when you come out of the shower, you often feel the need to cover up, when I'm the only person there. I don't get it. You are a beautiful, sexy, mature woman. And I delight in seeing you naked." He rubbed his crotch against her butt -- the first part of her he had noticed as a young man and still the object of a great deal of affection on his part.

"BS," she taunted him. "You just get horny when you see any naked woman."

"There's probably more truth to that statement than I care to admit," he said. "But that doesn't make what I said any less true."

"I know that you feel that way. Heck, you may even believe it. But I can't see it. I just see an old lady when I look in the mirror. There are so many things that I would love to change about my appearance that those flaws are all I can see." She was now pressing back against him. She reached behind him and grabbed his butt, pulling him in tighter.

He filled both hands with her breasts. He liked the way they floated in front of her. And while he was always happy to hold, squeeze, and play with her luscious mammaries, seeing them afloat was particularly alluring. He twisted both nipples lightly as he said, "You and I have watched our share of porn since the advent of the internet. And you know that I am much more drawn to 'mature or GILF porn' than I am to those hard bodied young women who so rarely appear in nature."

"Okay, I get it that you still find me attractive," she said with a bit of pique in her voice, "but that does not change the fact that I don't believe others would."

She acted as if she wanted to pull away from him, but he held her tight and spoke quietly in her ear. "You miss my point. The point is that there are millions, if not billions of people looking at porn involving real women in our age group. And I haven't done a formal survey, but I would be willing to bet you that the videos that feature women who look a lot like you have more views than do the ones where the mature ladies are slim, fit, and have fake boobs and butt lifts." He let go of her and spun her around to face him as he continued, "You see, my dear wife, regardless of what the media may tell women, men -- particularly men 'of a certain age,' -- are most attracted to women their minds tell them they could have sex with. That group, for every man except the ridiculously wealthy ones, does not include young starlets or porn stars. Men my age know this in no uncertain terms. In fact, for most of us, the thought of having sex with a young woman is frightening. Most of us know on some level, that we can no longer compete at anything, especially sex, with young men. Women your age understand (and mostly accept) our shortcomings. Just as we understand, and accept yours. Thus, we are not attracted to young, hard bodied, women except in the same way we are attracted to beautiful art. Merely to admire God's handiwork."

She stood in the shallow water now, hands on hips, an almost stern look on her face. "That was quite a dissertation, professor." He doffed an invisible cap to her. "But I fail to see how any of that gives me more confidence in what I see in the mirror."

He again tipped his nonexistent cap and said, "Elementary, my dear Watson. What I am saying, in many less words, is simply accept who you are. Love who you are. And fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Who cares what strangers think anyway?" He swam up to where she stood, and in a conspiratorial voice, said, "If you'll sit up on the edge of the pool, I'll lick your pussy."

Her whole body immediately stiffened at the suggestion. And she started to tell him that there was no way that was going to happen, in this life, or any other. Then the last thing he said rang through her head. "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke... and... who cares what strangers think." As he had also said, this was their backyard, and no one could see in without snooping. So, with a newfound, if slightly shaky resolve, she hopped up on the edge of the pool deck. She leaned back and pulled her feet out of the pool, putting them flat on the pool deck on either side of her husband's body.

He squeezed both of her thighs, with his thumbs brushing her vulva, and she shivered. "Stay just like that," he said as he went up the steps and out of the pool. He grabbed their towels and his phone. He had her sit up and put one towel under her body. The other he rolled up the other for her to use as a pillow. When she laid back down and got as comfortable as the situation allowed, he jumped back in the pool and moved to her.

She seemed to be relaxing. He was thankful for that. He again stroked her thighs and squeezed the flesh firmly, but not hard. When his hands reached her vulva, he shifted one hand to squeeze one of her butt cheeks while the other stroked lightly across her opening. He gently spread her labia with his fingers and saw her inner lips and her clit were swelling, changing color, and lubricating. He leaned in and licked her from perineum to clit hood. She shuddered and her vagina squeezed briefly. He watched her clit jump as her muscles flexed. It seemed to grow slightly with each time her muscles flexed. He loved looking at her womanhood when she was open and excited like this. He was fascinated by her anatomy, even after all these years together. He grabbed his phone a took a couple of pictures of her. In the sunlight she looked particularly sexy. These were pictures he knew he would look at over and over. He thought he could just play with her and watch the responses for the entire day. But he knew that if he did he would miss getting to taste her, which he loved almost as much as looking at her.

He leaned in again. This time he tried to get his tongue as far inside her as he could, while simultaneously rubbing his nose against her hardening clit. She sighed deeply and started pulling her thighs slowly toward her chest, granting him better access.

This last move meant one thing to him. She wanted her butt licked. Although she rarely admitted it, she liked anal play. And when she was in the right mood, she could get seriously turned on by analingus. He enjoyed eating a nice clean butt. So he went for it with gusto. He used one hand to hold back her butt cheek, but the other he moved up to be able to rub her clit with his thumb. Even though most of her orgasms involved vaginal penetration and clitoral stimulation, she had been known to get off on what he was currently doing. And in just a few minutes, she did exactly that.

He knew her excitement had built to a high level, but her orgasm surprised, and delighted him. Uncharacteristically for her, she grabbed his head with both hands and forced him in tighter. Her body stiffened and she grunted deeply. Her anus and vagina started to spasm. Her little rosebud was trying to grab his tongue. So he pressed it hard against the opening. It was a surreal feeling to have her butthole grab onto his tongue. But he found he liked it. He kept licking firmly through her orgasm.

When her orgasm subsided, she slowly lowered her legs and put her feet back on edge of the pool. He took the opportunity to lap up as much of her lady cum as he could get. He was still licking her vagina when she said, "Wow. I was NOT expecting that today. At least not here! Thank you. That was really nice. Now what can I do to repay you?" She winked at him lasciviously.

He got out of the pool and walked up next to where she was sitting. His penis was now hard and right at eye level. She turned and took him in her mouth. He stroked her hair with one hand and snapped two pictures with the other, as she began to suck him. It felt good, but it was not what he wanted. He wanted to push the boundary with her. So he pulled out of her mouth, to her great surprise.

He reached his hand out to her. She put her hand in his and he helped her up. "Bend over the table," he said firmly. She raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked. He moved behind her. And in the shade of their big table umbrella, he pushed into her well lubricated vagina.

[He generally thought of her body in anatomically correct terms until they were getting into sex, then her vagina became her pussy... but never her cunt... she hated that word. Breasts became tits. Her butt became her ass. And his penis became a cock or a dick. That is exactly what was happening at that moment.]

He used his phone and snapped another couple of pictures of his cock, at the opening of her pussy. Then he set it down, took two good hands full of her ass cheeks and slammed his cock fully into her pussy. She grunted when he bottomed out. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "How do you want it?"

"Hard and fast," she said breathlessly.

For the next few minutes, he didn't make love to his wife. He had hard sex with his lover. His wife's pleasure mattered deeply to him. But this was the woman who would do almost anything to give HIM pleasure. He wet his thumb with saliva and pushed it into her ass. He squeezed her fleshy cheeks hard enough to leave fingerprints. And he slammed his cock into her as hard, deep, and fast as he could. When his orgasm hit, it was intense. He fired blast after blast deep into her. Deep moans escaped him. His body was shaking as he he orgasmed. Then to his shock, she orgasmed with him. Their bodies shook together until they were both spent.

He stepped back and collapsed into one of the nearby chairs. She was still lying across the table, her legs lacking the strength to hold her up. All of her weight was on the table and she wasn't sure when she would get up. She could feel the wrought iron digging into her tits, but she still didn't think she could move.

He knew it was wrong, but he reached over and grabbed his camera again. He took a couple of shots, in portrait mode, of her beautiful pussy -- swollen, red, and leaking their combined cum down her leg. He checked his photos. These were ones that, if he was that kind of guy, he thought he could get money for. Her pussy was so sexy and beautiful, wide open and full of cum. But these were only for him -- and her, if she wanted to see them.

He was still ogling his pictures when she finally stood up. He looked up to see the design of the table imprinted on her lovely chest. He chuckled and said, "Sorry about that," as he traced his finger along the designs she wore.

Her eyes were still a bit unfocused as she said, "No problem. I appreciate your efforts." She fell into a chair next to him. "That was pretty inspired stuff. Where did it come from?"

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Being with you does that to me."

Her eyebrows raised as she said, "No... not really. At least not all the time."

He looked at her, partially slumped in a patio chair, legs still spread, cum still running down her legs, body shining in the sun, and he said, "Maybe I was inspired by fucking you in the sunshine."

Suddenly it seemed to dawn on her that she was outside, naked, and that they had just had sex where someone else could have seen them. Her face turned bright red and she reached for her clothing. He snatched her clothes away, grinning at her.

"You see. There is something wonderful about being out in the sunshine, in our birthday suits, being just as God made us. And in this case, enjoying the things that our bodies can do for -- and to -- one another."

He sat back down and they looked at each other for a quiet moment. She finally spoke up. "Okay. I'm still not completely comfortable with this, but... I get it. There really is something about the freedom of being outside like this."

*****

It was several weeks later, and after several more back yards 'outings,' that they were sitting and talking. He said, "Would you ever consider going to a nudist resort?"

"What? No!" She sounded adamant.

"Why not?"

"We've talked about this! You know how I feel about my body being seen by other people."

"Yes," he said, soothingly. "But you know how much you like being outside naked. And like I told you, there is no reason to be self-conscious when most of the other people will look like us."

*****

The conversation had lasted for more than a month. But now they were here, at the resort they had chosen together. She was still apprehensive. But if he was honest, so was he. They had checked in and put their stuff in their room. They had read all the rules. Things like: always have a towel to sit on; wear clothing in the lobby of the resort; and no sexual activities in public areas. They had taken a brief tour around the resort (fully clothed). And they had unpacked. Now they stood in front of the sliding glass doors leading from their room out to the pool.

"Well..." he said. "There's nothing to do, but to do this." With that, he started shedding clothes. Soon he was standing naked in front of the open curtains and doors, leading outside. She was still fully dressed and fidgeting.

"I don't know if I can do this," she said. "I just don't know."

He came and held her in his arms. "It's okay, my love. If you choose not to be naked, that's why the sign says, 'Clothing optional from this point on.' You do not have to do anything you don't want to do. Why don't you put on the bathing suit you brought. I hope you don't mind if I go out there naked. Even though this scares me (on one level) it is incredibly exhilarating. I'm going to the pool. Want to come?"

"Don't go yet," she said. "I haven't decided NOT to go. I'm just unsure. And also, you need sunscreen if you're going out there naked." She grabbed the sunscreen and started liberally applying to her husband's naked body.

When he was appropriately protected from UV rays, he took the bottle from her and said, "Would you like me to put some on you?"

She seemed frozen for a moment. And then, it was as if a switch was thrown. She quickly undressed. She stood in front of him and said, "Cover me with sunscreen. And do it quickly, before I chicken out."

They walked to the pool, hand-in-hand, towels draped over their arms (which each of them held strategically in front of their pubic areas). She was shaking as they picked out a table in the shade. It suddenly dawned on them that they would have to lose their covers in order to put the towels on the chairs. He looked at her and shrugged. He put his towel on the chair, turned and sat.

She stood rooted in place. He smiled at her and said, "My love, the folks here have already seen your butt and your breasts. Seeing a triangle of hair is the only thing left. Just go for it."

Her face was bright red, but she took her towel and dropped it on the chair before sitting down. She didn't spread the towel nicely over the chair seat, the way her husband had because she was not ready to bend over in front of everyone. She plopped down and looked at her husband. "I don't know if I can do this," she repeated.

He squeezed her hand and said, "Breathe. And look around. I see lots of people here who look like us." He leaned closer to her and whispered, "or worse." This caused them both to laugh, cutting the tension. "How about if I get us a couple of strong drinks?" She just nodded. She was not much of a drinker. But if ever there was a time to have a drink, this seemed like it.

As she waited for him to come back, she started to look around. There were probably thirty people scattered around the bar, poolside tables, and in the pool. Her guess was that two thirds of them were near their age -- mid-sixties. They ran the gamut from well-conditioned and svelte to much more rotund than either she or her husband. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. And no one seemed to be paying much attention to anyone else. She audibly exhaled and felt her body start to relax. She was glad that she had on sunglasses, because watching people was fascinating.

He came back with their drinks -- two frozen concoctions with lots of alcohol and some fruit juice. She took a big sip and said, "Wow. That packs a punch."

"I know. I just asked the bartender for the best drink he had for people who were naked around other people for the first time. This was his suggestion. And they are on the house. He said he hoped that you relaxed and had a good time. It wouldn't hurt for you to turn around and give him a wave. Maybe shake your breasts at him a bit." He was grinning ear-to-ear when he said it.

"Seriously? Shake my tits at a man because he bought me a drink? What am I, a hooker?" She was legitimately angry.

"I'm so sorry, love," he said in his most contrite voice. "It was a joke. I'm sorry if it was in bad taste. And I'm really sorry if I undid the mellow you were beginning to feel."