Colleen and Nathan Bare It All

The second weekend in September, the entire twelve-person household took a trip to Fire Island. Located off the coast of Long Island, it is the large center island of the outer barrier islands. Long reputed to be a gay Mecca, it was equally enjoyed by straights.

They took the ferry over to the island. Colleen and Nathan, never having been on the ocean before, stood at the bow, watching the big ship cut through the choppy waves. Her long blonde hair streamed out behind her, dancing in the wind.

They had finally met their last two housemates, Melissa, a tall willowy redhead who was majoring in dance, and Carla, a Goth, who had spiky black hair, and numerous tattoos and body piercings. She wore a tank top that revealed her heavily inked arms, and an intricate, multi-colored floral design across her chest, that disappeared beneath the front of her shirt. Nathan wondered how far it would go underneath, and hoped he might get the chance to find out.

Brian and Liam, the gay couple in their household, had borrowed a large beach house from some friends. It was located on a private beach that allowed nudity; the park service had banned nude sunbathing on the public beaches, even though it had been a long tradition.

Colleen and Nathan had become nude beach addicts after their honeymoon in St. Martins in the Caribbean, and couldn't wait to hit the sand. They had also developed an innate curiosity about what other people looked like without their clothes on.

They had already seen Liam and Brian, when they happened upon their gay coupling. Franklin, their black housemate, was the first to peel his clothes off. He stood 6'6" and, stereotypically, had a huge penis. Kimmie, the tiny oriental girl was next. She was only 4'9" and had little bee-stings for breasts, and a patch of very fine black pubic hair.

Sunil, the Sikh, left his burgundy turban on his head. Although it was against his religion, he quickly peeled his clothes off. He had a tiny uncircumcised penis with a drooping foreskin. Melissa had a dancer's body, with small breasts, and a patch of red pubic hair that matched the hair on her head. Roger, the geek, had an average-sized cock, and a shaved pubis.

Nathan gawked as Carla finally shed her tank top and baggy jeans. Her entire torso was covered with tattoos, floral designs intermingled with skulls covered her breasts, with big red stars over each nipple. There was a large dragon across her stomach, its mouth open around her bald pussy, inked in to her outer lips.

She had piercings in her eyebrows, through her lips, her nose, and at least a dozen spiky studs through each ear. Her nipples had big silver bars with balls on the end drilled through them. They could see shiny objects between her legs, but were hesitant to stare, until she spread her legs apart and invited them to inspect her more closely. Carla had three rings in each of her labia, and a heavy metal one through the hood of her clitoris.

"God, didn't that hurt? Didn't all of it hurt?" Colleen asked, envisioning the piercings and the tattoo needles, gouging through all her sensitive parts.

"Yeah, it hurt a lot. I take it you're not into pain."

"No, thank you. I'm into pleasure."

"Pity. I can envision you with black boots and a whip."

Nathan could dig the black boots, but skip the whip.

When Ronnie dropped his? her? clothes off, they still couldn't figure out what gender he? she? was. Ronnie had both breasts and a penis. Sensing their puzzlement, he volunteered that he was in the middle of a sex change operation.

"Which way are you going?" Nathan asked.

"Male to female. They're going to amputate my penis and build me a vagina instead."

"Can you be sexually active?"

"Sure. They take the skin off my penis and scrotum and turn it into labia, and make a clitoris out of my glans."

"So you'll be able to make love with a man with no problem?"

Ronnie laughed. "Actually, I'm really into women, so I'm going to be a lesbian."

"So, if you're really into women, why don't you stay a man?"

"I like pussy so much, I want one of my own."

All eyes turned to E.M. She stood in a fuchsia flowered mumu that could double as a circus tent. Her bathroom scale maxed out at three hundred pounds, and that was five years ago. Nobody dared guess what she weighed now. She started to pull the mumu over her head.

"Jesus, I don't know if I can watch this," Franklin said.

"I don't know if I want to watch this," Nathan added. He covered his eyes with his hand, but his fingers were spread apart enough to peek through.

There stood the biggest mountain of flesh any of them had ever seen. Her stomach hung down almost to her knees, her pubis completely lost under all the flab. Enormous breasts, like flesh-colored gunny sacks, hung flat on her belly, with saucer-sized areolas and nipples that pointed straight down to the ground.

She had legs like tree trunks, with rolls of fat that obscured her knees. Her enormous ass and thighs were pocked with cellulite that looked like craters on the moon. When she lay down on her blanket, she looked like a beached whale.

Beer got liberally swilled. Someone turned on a boom box and couples began to pair off and dance. Brian and Liam were both sporting erections that they ground against each other.

Melissa paired off with Carla, but perhaps the oddest couple were Franklin and Kimmie. He towered so far above her tiny body that her nipples brushed again his cock.

Nathan and Colleen held each tightly, swaying with the music. They both became highly aroused, as she rubbed her hard nipples across his chest and he ground his stiff cock against her belly. He was no longer embarrassed by getting an erection in front of an audience; it really turned him on.

E.M. slowly worked her way up on her feet. Striking a pose, she placed her hands on her knees and raised her enormous ass.

"Oh, my God, she's gonna twerk." Twerking hit the news recently when a group of high school students were suspended for putting a video of themselves doing the suggestive dance on YouTube.

The Wikipedia definition of twerking is, oddly, perfect: "Twerking is a dance move that involves a person shaking their hips and bottom in a bouncy up and down motion causing it to shake, wobble, and jiggle."

As with any dance, attitude is everything. Whether or not you've got enough junk in the trunk to make a real splash doesn't necessarily matter, as long as you've got sass. Or, er, a big ass. E.M. most definitely had the right equipment.

She started to shake, and everything wobbled and jiggled. Undulating rolls of fat spurned rolls on top of the rolls, that moved like hideous waves up and down her body. "Oh. My. God." was the collective chorus from her audience, as they watched open-mouthed.

Colleen, studying American musical history at Julliard was reminded of an old Glenn Miller tune, "It Must be Jelly, Cause Jam Don't Shake Like That." E.M. shot them all a shit-eating grin as her body continued to undulate.

After a spell, the dancing turned into acts of public sex; Beach Blanket Bango. Melissa buried her face in Carla's crotch, carefully, so all Carla's genital hardware didn't tear up her tongue. Ronnie slid his face under Melissa's pussy, jerking himself off while he still had a cock.

One by one, when the beer got to them, the women took turns peeing on Roger, who was in golden showers heaven.

Perhaps the strangest coupling occurred between Franklin and Kimmie. His hard-on was enormous; guesses ranged from fifteen to eighteen inches, and as big around as a wrist. He picked tiny Kimmie up like a rag doll and held her over his cock. Slowly, he slid it into her. Everyone thought he'd get it in a couple inches and have to stop, but he kept on going. And going. Where the hell did she put it all? Christ, that was like deep throating her. From the other end.

E.M. got down on all fours and spread her monstrous cheeks apart. Wow, you could actually see some pink. Sunil took up a position behind her.

"Jesus, that's like sticking your dick in the Grand Canyon."

"We'd better tie a board across his ass so he doesn't fall in."

As the beach party wound itself down, and as it was time to head back to the house, four of the men grabbed a corner of Roger's blanket, hauled him down to the water and threw in him. Then they buried the blanket. Nobody wanted him in the house smelling that bad.

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Back in the house, Brian came over to where Colleen and Nathan were sitting, carrying a large scrapbook. "You have such a beautiful body, Colleen. I'd really like to photograph you."

"Nude?"

"Yes, outdoors, by the ocean." Brian was working on his MFA degree at the Art Institute of New York. He opened his portfolio to show them his work, a stunning array of beautiful women, tastefully photographed in outdoor settings; by the ocean, in a forest, and one of a woman under a waterfall.

"These are gorgeous, Brian. I'd love to pose for you, if it's okay with Nathan." She could feel a tingle in her groin just thinking about it. Nathan quickly nodded his assent.

"I love women's bodies; the angles, the curves, and all their secret places," Brian volunteered.

"If you love women's bodies so much, how come you're gay?"

"I love them aesthetically, not sexually. A lot of photographers who specialize in capturing women; fashion, lingerie, and nude, are gay."

"I want to go along with you," Nathan said. He partly wanted to be protective, but was also titillated at the prospect. He loved looking at her body, and thought it would be a thrill to see her through someone else's eyes.

At sunrise, the three of them set off for the water's edge. Brain wanted to capture the color of the sky as a background for his model. His only prop was a four-foot square of silk with a multi-colored floral print.

He first posed her with the silk wrapped around her hips like a sarong, with her arms reaching for the pink and orange tinted sky, her head thrown back, and her long blonde hair flying in the wind. Next, he had her strip off the silk and hold it over her head, letting it fly like a sail behind her.

Throughout the morning, he put her through dozens of poses. In the water, out of the water, standing, sitting with her back arched and her breasts pointing toward the sky. He had her hold one pose, thigh deep in the water. The incoming waves lapped between her legs, teasing her clit, turning her face into an expression of pure lust.

Brian had her roll in the dry sand; it stuck to her wet body, covering her buttocks and her breasts, with her hardened nipples poking out. When she stood again, the sand covered her pussy lips. He posed her on a rock and let the spray from the crashing waves act as a backdrop.

She reclined on a pile of grey weathered driftwood with one leg pointed at the sky, exposing all her flowery genitalia to the prying lens. Brian captured everything, from panoramic wide-angle shots to zoomed-in close-ups.

The camera loved her. And she loved the camera. She also found posing to be highly erotic. In fact, her pussy had been wet through the entire session. When Brian was finished for the day, she grabbed Nathan by the hand and they sprinted back to the house.

In the shower, Nathan took the hand-held sprayer and flushed the sand off her body. He held it for a long time between her legs; her breathing became ragged and she thrust her hips forward, letting the spray wash over her engorged clit. Her whole body shuddered and she grabbed him by the shoulders for balance as her orgasm broke like a wave over her entire being.

They soaped each other thoroughly. Sensually. Slowly. His hands lingered over her full round breasts, slipping and sliding over her nipples. Her hands slithered over his balls and up and down his throbbing cock.

When she couldn't stand it any longer, she placed her hands on the wall and thrust her gorgeous ass out toward him. "Fuck me, Nathan. Fuck me hard."

He slipped the head of his cock down the cleft between her cheeks, and with one thrust, buried himself deep in her cunt. Insatiable, burning with a whole day's worth of pent-up desire, he grabbed her hips and pounded into her again and again, his groin making slap-slapping noises as it collided with her ass.

"Oh, God, oh Jesus, oh God," they howled in unison as they came together in an orgasmic collision that left them breathless and fulfilled.

Back home in the East Village, Brian slipped the memory card into his computer and asked Colleen and Nathan to come in and view the photos he had taken of her. They were stunned when they saw the beautiful shots he had made. He gave them a disk he had burned to keep for themselves.

"I sent some of these out to some markets I have to see if there's any interest in buying some of these, but I wouldn't sell anything without your permission. Anything I make, I split fifty-fifty with the model."

"So is there any interest? As struggling students, we could always use the money."

"A lot of it; an ad agency wants some of the tamer shots for a travel brochure, a website that specializes in tasteful art will buy a gallery of twenty shots, there's some interest from a magazine, and I have a connection with a representative from Playboy that would like you to audition for a centerfold."

"Everything sounds good to me, except for Playboy. Playboy gets a big 'no thank you.' "

"They pay big money for a centerfold."

"Yeah, and you have to have sex with that creepy old pervert, Hefner, to get in there."

Colleen had just read an expose written by a former Playmate. The description of Hef's "parties" disgusted her. He'd have twelve of his naked "girlfriends" hover around his bed; two of them would make it with each other while he watched, and the others, in turn, would have to straddle his mangy old Viagra filled cock and fuck him if they wanted to get into the fold-out in his magazine. "They couldn't pay me enough to do that."

"There's one more possibility," Brian added. "Have the two of you ever thought about making an erotic video?"

"Do you mean porn?"

"This is hard-core, but it's very tastefully done. There's a website called 'Erotic-Art.' They like to use real couples, and the pay is very good." He wrote down the URL and a phone number to call if they were interested.

They booted up their computer and entered the web address. It was a subscription site, but there were enough free samples for them to get the gist of it. The models were beautiful and very natural. The photography was lovely; soft focus, and very romantic looking.

"Wow, this is beautiful. What do you think, Nathan?"

"I think we could do this." He was standing behind her, watching over her shoulder.

"What would our parents think if they saw us?"

"They chances of them finding this site are probably ten million to one. It really is beautifully done. And it's also very HOT," he said, reaching over her shoulders and fondling her breasts.

"Oh, yeah!" They tumbled onto their bed, ripping the clothes off each other.

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They were both a bit nervous when they entered the studio to make their video debut. The director, Carolyn Bright, a no-nonsense woman in her thirties greeted them warmly, putting them instantly at ease.

"We prefer real couples, not actors or models, and we stress the natural; no silicone boobs, no piercings, no tattoos. Our videos stress emotion, passion, and love; lovemaking, not fucking. And the orgasms are real."

The sets were simple, yet elegant, done completely in white. The only color in the videos was flesh. Their scenes were shot on a queen-sized bed, backlit by large windows located beside it.

They hadn't realized the time and the effort put into an erotic video. The director was meticulous in just how she posed them. They used three cameras to capture the scenes from different angles, including extreme close-ups

.

It took a full eight hours to complete the shooting. They were exhausted by the time it was finished. It would take several days to finish the editing and the post-production work. They could hardly wait to see the end product.

Early the next week, Fed-X delivered a DVD of the finished video. Nathan popped it into their DVD player and they snuggled up on the couch in front of the large flat screen TV. The video was shot in high-definition, and they were amazed at the clarity and the quality.

In the opening scene, Colleen was seated at a vanity table with a tall cheval glass mirror, brushing her waist length golden hair. She was dressed in a simple white lace chemise, cut low in front so it showed her ample cleavage. The only makeup she wore was a touch of pale pink lip-gloss.

Her full lips curved into a smile as Nathan came up behind her and took the brush from her hand. He was wearing white silk pajamas, the top opened halfway to his waist. He smiled at her image in the mirror; her deep blue eyes were focused on his image in the mirror.

He used slow, long strokes as he brushed her hair, letting the shining strands drift between the fingers on his free hand. She let her head fall back, and he bent down toward her, letting his lips brush against hers. She reached behind his neck and pulled him to her, deepening the kiss. Her tongue snicked out and traced the outline of his lips. The camera zoomed in on their faces as their tongues danced with each other.

He kissed his way down the curve of her neck and over her shoulders. Slipping down the straps on her chemise, he lowered the silky fabric down to her waist, revealing her full round breasts, jutting proudly forward through the veil of her hair. He tickled and teased her breasts with her soft shining locks.

On the couch, Nathan pushed the pause button on the remote control, freezing the frame. "I love watching you on the screen. Are you as turned on as I am?"

"Oh, yeah! I think we need to get naked to watch the rest of this." She stood and did a slow strip-tease for him. When he finally wiggled out of his pants, he was hard as a rock.

Back on the screen, he helped her up to her feet, and pulled the chemise over her hips, letting it pool at her feet. Watching thrilled them. They could see both sides of themselves, the back view to the camera, highlighting her rounded, heart- shaped bottom, and the front reflected in the glass.

"Wow, I've never seen my ass before."

"You have a beautiful ass."

"Yours isn't too shabby either," she said, noting his narrow hips and sculpted, muscular glutes.

On the video, she slowly unbuttoned his silk pajama top, her hands caressing his chest, tweaking his nipples with her fingers. The cameraman took a close up of her hardened nipples, gliding over his chest. He began to fondle her breasts as the camera panned up to her face, capturing the depth of her blue eyes under lowered lashes. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing deepened, succumbing to her growing passion.

He took her by the hand and led her to the bed that was ringed with white candles, lending a flickering glow to the ambience. The background music was Beethoven's "Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor," better known as the "Moonlight Sonata." It was Nathan at the keyboard, playing an audition tape that he had made for Julliard.

He lowered her gently onto the bed, her golden hair fanning out on the pillow beneath her head. Nathan hovered above her as his mouth dipped to find hers. The camera caught their eyes, locked on each other's. Her lips curved as she nipped his lower lip with her teeth.

The photographer stayed locked in tight, as his mouth swooned over all the curves and contours of her chest. Her luscious breasts filled the screen, as his lips and his tongue found her nipples. They quivered as he lathed them, then drew them into his mouth, one at a time and suckled.