Esmes Rambles

Esme's Rambles

Author's Note: In this world, all characters are 18 or older. There are no unplanned pregnancies. STDs don't exist. Any mention of a specific product doesn't constitute an advertisement or endorsement, and I have no financial connection with the manufacturer or any retailers. I acknowledge beforehand that naturalists don't make the same connection between nudity and sex that "textiles" often do, but this is a Literotica fantasy after all.

*****

Esme sat cross-legged on a groundsheet in the shade under the broad canopy of an old oak, her back against its gnarled trunk. Her hiking pole leaned against the tree to one side and her rucksack lay among the roots on the other. The oak itself was on a rise and set back from the footpath that demarked a public right of way. She could see in both directions along the path and would notice any other ramblers coming from either direction. She gazed across the open terrain of the English countryside. Farm fields were randomly divided into a patchwork by orderly lines of ancient trees. Thicker wooded copses lined streams and filled several valleys. Just below the horizon, a church steeple pierced the sky, a visual cue for her looping ramble's start and destination village. On this sunny 32-degree day, Esme wore her broad-brimmed crushable mesh sun hat, a linen Liberty print scarf knotted at her neck, and her trainers. Nothing else. A gentle breeze cooled the light sheen of sweat across her chest causing her nipples to swell; that and the pleasant freedom of being naked outdoors.

Esme was taking a lunch break. She searched in her rucksack and took out the bento box she'd packed. She opened it to reveal a Jamon Beurre sandwich, celery and carrot sticks, cornichons, and apple slices. One pouch on the side of her rucksack held a water bottle. The pouch on the other side was stuffed with a bottle of white wine. She opened the piquepoul blanc and poured a generous serving into a plastic stemless wine cup she produced from her rucksack. As she sipped and nibbled, she savored the view and reminisced about arriving here.

*****

Germany

Esme spent a year at a German university as an exchange student. Back then, she was slimmer and tighter, her full but moderately sized breasts were firm and perky, the right one a little larger and it settled a fraction lower on her chest. Her nipples were mostly center forward, pointing slightly upward and surrounded by darker pink areolae. When cold or excited, they would stiffen into taut puffy gumdrops at the peaks of her fleshy mounds. Her curvy torso was softly feminine. She thought her hips were too wide and her round arse too big, but "nice."

On a free weekend in Berlin, her German friends took her for her first spa experience where she discovered that the pools and saunas were all "textile-free." She still remembered her companion's exclamation as Esme started to step into her one-piece bathing suit in the dressing room, "Kein Badeanzug, du musst nackt sein!"

"What do you mean I have to be naked!?"

"That's the way it is here."

Esme eyed the neatly wrapped bundle the attendant had given her: a fluffy robe, a towel, and sandals. Apprehensive, she sheepishly nodded; they were all girls after all. Sliding her feet into the sandals, she slipped on the robe and reluctantly followed the group into the anteroom of a nearby sauna. Following everyone's lead, Esme doffed her robe and hung it on a little peg before entering a room with tiers of wooden benches along three walls.

"You should sit on your towel, so you won't burn your butt."

She quickly spread her towel on a spot on a bench, not wanting to linger on thoughts of how much of her backside she showed to her companions. At first, she sat with her crossed arms over her breasts, nervously covering her nipples. She kept her legs tightly squeezed together, not looking comfortable at all. Soon, however, heat relaxed her and light banter on mundane subjects - music, boys, classes, favorite foods, and where to eat - distracted her. She watched, fascinated, as one of the girls raised her leg to her chest, completely exposing her shaved pussy to Esme's view. As the conversation progressed, she casually began brushing her fingertips along her slit. She wasn't obviously masturbating, rather she absentmindedly pleasured herself, a diversion from the conversation. No one else seemed to notice. The young woman dipped a finger between her nether lips and brushed across her clit. She caught Esme watching and gave her a cheeky wink.

The same girls who persuaded her to go in the altogether at the spa also convinced her she should shave her pussy. This exposed Esme's slit and the little ridge of flesh above her clit that peeked from between them. When the group suggested they do the whole FKK thing at a nearby park, Esme was at first embarrassed but, as at the spa, she went along. Esme came to accept that her body was okay and being naked in public wasn't so scary. It was okay to be there even though she mostly stayed prone so any men walking by could only view her arse and catch a glimpse of her cleavage while reading, propped on her elbows. She came to appreciate that nudity wasn't just for sex. Her body was different from everyone else's; she had all the same parts where they were supposed to be. Naked, she looked no better or worse than everyone else notwithstanding airbrushed super models. She secretly reveled in catching the numerous subtle glances in her direction; they fed her ego and boosted her confidence.

*****

She Begins Rambling

As a personnel manager for a local affiliate of one of the London department stores, Esme had a satisfying career. She mentally tucked public nudity into her more reckless past and traded for a business suit. She married and had children who were now of the age to attend university themselves. She had caught her husband

in flagrante delicto

with his secretary. The generous divorce settlement combined with her salary and investments earned her a comfortable life. It was a London Times lifestyle piece that caught her attention. The article was by and about a female editor who joined in a nude rambling event. The article was accompanied by a photo of an attractive youngish woman (the author) on an idyllic wooded footpath looking back over her shoulder. She was naked except for a blue rucksack and trainers, not exposing even the Page 3 bits (it was The Times after all).

Esme remembered the exhilaration and freedom of the forays into public nudity in her youth. The article stated that the UK College of Policing had issued a public nudity advice and decision aid that indicated nudity in public was a lawful activity if the person wasn't engaged in lewd or disorderly conduct or was causing actual harassment. Activities like gardening, home maintenance, swimming, cycling, walking, and hiking in the nude were all fine. She supposed that's how the no trousers tube ride in London worked. Combined with the Right to Roam and designated public Open Access Land, it all piqued her curiosity to find some nude rambling groups. She decided she wanted to try full body exposure in the English countryside. The Times article included enough clues that a quick web search provided her with information on several societies where she discovered both guidelines and events. It all struck her as a surprising and refreshing niche British pastime in stark contrast to often-stuffy stereotypes.

Her first naked ramble started with meeting the other naturists for pints in the outdoor garden of a local pub. There were four couples in the group, three single men, and Esme, the only newbie. Esme had emailed the group leader, Eddie, but knew no one else. Eddie stood and introduced Esme. Everyone in turn introduced themselves but Esme promptly forgot who was who. The group began the walk, clothed, leaving the pub and taking a path along a lane to a gap in a stone fence that included a stone step stile. Everyone crossed, and when on the other side of the fence away from casual view by anyone in the lane, everyone disrobed. In addition to her rucksack, Esme wore a wide-brimmed mesh hat; the one she used while gardening to keep the sun off her face. Her kit also included a loosely knotted linen Liberty print neckerchief knotted about her neck and a short, powder blue sleeveless cotton wrap dress tucked through one of the shoulder straps of her rucksack. If needed when meeting textiles, she could quickly cover up by putting on the dress, but she would follow the lead of the organizers of the walk. She could soak the neckerchief with water to help keep cool on hot days. A stout one-and-a-half meter walking pole completed the kit that became her go-to rambling ensemble.

Since her Uni days, pregnancy had inflated her breasts, and gravity had slackened them a bit. Her aureolae still puffed into gumdrops each capped by a taut nipple. Days at the gym helped to keep all her parts mostly up, firm, and properly round. She discreetly observed her companions. There were all varieties of boobs, bellies, and bottoms small to large, firm, bouncy to jiggling, swaying, sagging, shaved (like herself), topiary, or hirsute. She felt good about all her goodies.

She flashed a shy smile to two of the younger unmarried men when she caught them checking her out, their manhood inflating somewhat as they observed her, but diminished with embarrassment when they got caught. Esme liked knowing she was noticed and appreciated. Remembering her younger days, she couldn't help but feel a sort of exhilarating, naughty thrill. She enjoyed the advantage women had over men. Her excitement remained private as she got a little wet thinking "I really am getting naked."

Esme's tan lines marked her as new to the group and as she spread sun cream over herself, she saw a couple, slightly older and rounder than her, applying cream to each other and glancing in her direction. The woman stepped over, tube in hand, and said, "Hello, I'm Beth and that's Ray, my husband." He smiled, nodded, and waved. "Would you like some help with your back? Wouldn't want you to be discouraged on your first outing by getting sunburned. It is your first, right?"

"Yes."

"I could tell you looked a bit nervous. You'll be fine and you'll enjoy our walk. Ray and I do, and we've been rambling naked for years," talkative Beth said as she coated Esme's back. "Just can't wait for the warm weather. Sometimes we get antsy and have to take a short jaunt to the beaches of southern Spain for a relaxing respite. You just can't beat the prices of wine, tapas, and, well, those fresh oysters. And the sun..." Beth giggled. "You know, you also need to cover your cute little cunny and crack with the cream. They say, 'where the sun don't shine,' but it certainly can. A sunburn there is just the worst."

Esme felt she was in an episode of the Channel 4 show, "Naked Attraction," where the amiable host's banter steered the contestant through the game as a panel of fully nude potential date choices were revealed private bit by completely naked bit. "What do you think of that? Is that pierced? What would you like to ask?" And after having closer looks at their crotches, boobs, and faces "Which would you like to send off?"

Esme looked at Ray. His flaccid penis nestled on top of his scrotum, its head and little slit just peeking out of his foreskin. He had a rounded dad bod but was certainly not off-putting. If they met in a bar and he offered to buy her a drink, she would say, "Okay." He might not be her first choice on Naked Attraction, but she wouldn't send him off straight away.

A little sheepish, Esme said "Thanks for the tip." She turned away to get what privacy there might be in the situation and coated the suggested areas with sun cream. She thought it would be better to have a spray next time.

Except for showing her arse in German parks, that day was Esme's first full and openly frontal nude encounter with textiles. As the naked group walked along casually chatting about this and that, three young men cycling along the same path caught up to the group. Esme was suddenly embarrassed by thoughts of how long had they been staring at her bare arse? She knew she jiggled, everyone did. She was sure they said things about her. But, the more experienced ramblers didn't reach for their covers. The differently dressed groups greeted each other amiably and Eddie answered the cyclist's questions, engaging them in conversation, Esme realized there was no compelling reason they would single her out for special perusal. She admitted to herself that she hoped they might have. She decided she was happy that among the panoply of feminine wiles on display she was not being ignored by these virile young men in their tight cycling gear. Their glances weren't as sly as they thought. A woman can always tell exactly on which of her charms a man's wandering eyes lands no matter how quick the glance. Their furtive appreciation caused her nipples to swell, and she was getting wet. She felt a confident rosy glow of "I've got this."

When the ramble ended, instead of getting dressed in the full ensemble she arrived in, Esme donned her wrap dress, foregoing both bra and panties. She was not yet ready to completely give up the feeling of being naked. Having what she considered a cheeky secret gave her a nice tingle. She enjoyed cooling off with an Aperol Spritz at the pub while the group reviewed the day's adventure and talked about when they would next explore what part of the countryside. She decided to pay the dues and become a member of this club.

She, Beth, and Ray walked together to the train station for the trip back to the city. She was very aware of her puffy nipples rubbing on the soft inside of her wrap as her breasts bobbed and swayed. Her voyeuristic senses were on full alert as she watched her companions casually touching as they walked and sat together on the train: a gentle but insistent squeeze of arse, leg patting, rubbing, and snogging. It's funny, but such behaviors when nude in public could well be deemed inappropriate if someone were to complain. While clothed, their playful caresses invoked either just a "get a room" eye-roll, or a smile that could have been one of remembering or longing. Esme saw that now that he was covered, Ray was erect. She surmised that today's excursion had been but a prelude to the couple's more private and intimate activities, part of the public dance of a couple in love and heat.

At home, Esme herself quickly propped her staff in the corner by the door, dropped her rucksack on the bench in the entrance hall, and slipped off her shoes. She untied her wrap and neckerchief and dropped them to the floor. She went upstairs to her bedroom and grabbed her pink Rave G Spot vibrator from the drawer beside her bed. She went into the en-suite and quickly stepped into the shower. From the moment she began her naked adventure by crossing over that stile, Esme had felt how nice it would be to give in to the persistent and intimate tingle between her legs. She knew her inner lips were peeking from between her tumid outer lips, a sure sign of her arousal. It thrilled her that maybe Ray, the unmarried men in the group, or those cyclists saw her arousal. The rhythms and excitement of walking while being naked in public had made her slick and damp and she discreetly enjoyed herself throughout the afternoon. She knew she couldn't touch herself intimately while in public in that group. In the excitement of this first adventure, she had edged herself and needed to climax.

As hot water splashed onto her, she massaged her breast with one hand; rubbing and pinching her erect nipple sending sizzles directly to her pussy. She leaned back against the tile wall, spread her legs, and turned on the vibrator. With her thumb, she cradled the lipstick tube-sized toy along her middle finger, between pointer and ring fingers. She touched it to her mons, above her clit, and felt its deep quiet rumble begin its work toward her pleasurable reward. She slid it down and back to spread her lips and graze her clit. With a practiced hand, she pressed the switch and changed the slow vibration to a faster-pulsing setting. She rubbed the little vibe across her sex, so it slipped along each side of her inner lips, then she parted those lips and slipped the buzzing toy into her vagina. It curved exactly as it was designed and rotated to press directly to the top of her passage. Held snugly inside her, the vibrator sent buzzing electric sensations throughout her body, along her spine, to her tightly engorged nipples, and when the sensations reached her head, Esme quivered with the onset of an intense orgasm. She came with a deep breathy moan. As she reflexively clenched with her release, the toy along with the clear fluid of her spend squirted out onto the shower floor.

Esme wouldn't deny her body's appetites. That long buildup to and need for release became a theme at the end of many of her naked rambles, but she didn't dare bring up the subject to her naked cohorts. That is, until Beth brought it up on one of the rambles.

As they walked along a wooded path, Beth leaned into Esme and discretely whispered, "I don't want to embarrass you, but Ray really likes it when you come along with us."

"Oh?" said Esme a little apprehensive.

"Yes. I think you have caught his attention. I don't want to put you off, but I think you make him horny. If I may be honest and open, I like it. When we walk ahead of you, we aren't snubbing you. We've noticed sometimes you 'show.' When that happens, we want to respect your privacy and so we walk ahead of you. We don't want you to feel uncomfortable, and Ray might put on a 'show,' too. It's only natural."

"Oh." Esme prevaricated knowing full well that being naked in public wasn't all that aroused her. She did wonder about things and think about what men in the group might be like or were themselves thinking about her. Esme knew that her engorged and protruding inner lips advertised her arousal and were there for all to see with any quick glance between her legs. She reddened in embarrassment that Ray, Beth, or whoever else might have noticed her. "Okay? I'm happy to be included in the club and don't want to be the source of any confusion or conflicts between members. I'm still a bit unsure about how all this works."

"You're okay and it happens to all of us. Between you and me, he gets very frisky when we get home. I don't mind when he 'shops,' because he looks for the goods at home. If you know what I mean. Please don't let this put you off. We, Ray and I, both enjoy your company on our excursions and like sharing those at-home benefits."

Esme still wasn't sure, but she got the idea from the tone of her comments that Beth might not object to a little sapphic playtime. Maybe Ray liked to watch. But that notion went by the wayside...

"No sense beating around the bush, Ray wants to fuck you," Beth said openly. Continuing boldly, "and we both want to share those at-home benefits with you. After he has finished in you, I want to lick you clean."

The explicit request took Esme aback. She was surprised, shocked, excited, and delighted all at once. Her nipples tightened, she felt her lips swelling, and she was suddenly very wet. Beth must have noted her arousal because she smiled and gave a knowing wink.

"No pressure. We don't want to run you off or spoil your participation in the rambles." Beth said. "And no rush, take your time and think about it. It doesn't have to be today, or ever. We just wanted you to know what we were thinking. It's up to you. We're okay whatever you decide."

Dazed, Esme paused on the trail and looked vacantly at the blue sky while trying to gather her thoughts. Beth walked ahead and caught up to Ray. Esme saw them whispering and Ray lowered his hand on her back and discretely patted Beth on the arse as he gave her a peck on the cheek.