Kazey De Beauchene sat on the beach blanket and smiled. The summer's day was glorious, with a high sky, brilliant sunshine, a slight breeze, and low humidity. It was days like this that made him glad he turned down the unpaid internship at the family friend's private investigative agency in favor of writing more short stories for local literary magazines, including one at his college. No one in his family faulted him for the decision. The head of the agency lauded him for choosing to continue writing over the summer.
He chose to put his blanket on a small stretch of beach away from the official campgrounds beach, on property attached to the ruins of an old hotel long left abandoned, and widely unknown by campers. This was his "secret place," his go-to location when he wanted to read and not be bothered by his sisters and their friends. To Kazey, it appeared no one else had found this spot, since the brush and bushes on his right side had not been trimmed and made for another wall of green. He reached into his backpack, removed a can of Dr Pepper, a pen, his leather journal, and prepared to continue with notes he started at breakfast. He opened the can when he heard female voices come from behind the verdant wall.
"Are you sure no one's going to see us?" an obviously nervous woman asked.
Kazey put down the can and crawled to the bushes. He peeked through an opening and saw who the sources of the voices were.
"No one's been here in years," a nude woman answered. He looked at her and the other three women and his eyes widened. This woman was ten years or so his senior, a woman whose midsection wrinkles told him she was a mother. Her breasts were sagging, due to the fact they were large. Her nipples were the color of dark bubble gum. She had very small areolae. This wasn't the first time he saw this, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. She had her hands on her hips, stood straight, and her smile never left her face. Kazey knew she loved being nude.
"Okay," the unsure woman added. She dropped her towel, exposing her pale white body to the air. Kazey's smile grew. She was a mature woman about his mother's age. She wasn't tall, shorter than his five feet, four inch mother was. This woman's bottom was wider, her breasts larger. Her smile widen when a soft breeze hit her body. Kazey was enjoying the view when something else came into view: a clean-shaven vagina, something he had seen only once before: one of his coed roommates did it as a dare in January but allowed it to grow back.
"God, Shirley," another woman began. Kazey noticed her: an older woman whose hips were wide, her breasts here sagging, her nipples were large and erect. She pointed to her friend's pubic area, "I like what you did there." This woman had the smallest of the breasts, slightly smaller than one of his roommates' B-cups were.
