Ive Always Wanted To Skinny Dip

"What are you reading?" asked Vicky Pham as she sat down next to me. I slipped my bookmark between the pages and showed her. She immediately lit up. "Oh, Arsène Lupin!" she exclaimed. "Finally took my recommendation, huh? How are you enjoying it?"

"It's great so far. Definitely different from a lot of other stuff I've read. It's kind of interesting reading a mystery from the criminal's point of view."

"He's not a criminal!" she protested. "I mean, he sort of is, but he's a gentleman-burglar. It's different. He's not a bad guy or anything. He's in it for the thrill." Vicky took out her lunch and continued. "You know, when I was in college, I wanted to be a mystery writer. I even wrote a few stories myself."

"Yeah? What sort of stuff did you write?"

"Oh, it's dumb," she demurred, averting her eyes.

"Oh come on, you brought it up. Tell me," I prodded.

She sighed. "Fine. So don't laugh, but I wrote a few stories about a mystery-solving...dolphin..." she mumbled.

"A dolphin?"

"They're cute!" she explained. "And really smart!"

"What sort of mysteries did he solve?" I asked, bemused.

"Mostly ones near the water. And it was a she."

"Interesting... Do you still have them? Might be fun to read."

"Na. They were all on my old laptop. Lost 'em when it crashed. Probably for the best. I might have to commit seppuku if I thought anyone could ever read them.

"So how about you?" she asked. "Did you ever write anything?"

"Yeah, I write some short stories," I blurted out without thinking. Even before her lips parted, I knew what her obvious follow-up would be.

"What do you write? Probably horror stories, I bet, right?"

Damn. I hadn't really thought this through. I could lie, but if she asked to read it, I'd be caught. Could I say something so boring that she wouldn't have any interest?

"Uhh..."

"John, you're blushing," she observed.

Betrayed by own body. "Well..."

Her eyes went wide with sudden realization as a wicked grin spread across her face. "John, do you write

naughty

stories?" she whispered, leaning in close.

"You see..."

"You

do

! Oh, wow..."

"They're not

that

naughty," I protested, while simultaneously remembering all of debased and salacious sex acts about which I had written, thankful she couldn't read my mind.

"Can I read one?" she asked, in a softly inquisitive voice. "I'm curious."

Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. "Haven't you read that kind of thing before?"

"I have," she confessed. "A lot. But I've never

known

someone who wrote them. It would be interesting, I think. Besides, I'll be able to ask the author himself about any questions I have. How often do you get that kind of opportunity? And you'll get a review from a connoisseur. Come on, share just one with me," she pled, pouting her lip.

A face like hers was hard to resist... And I had to be honest, the thought of sharing one of my stories with someone I personally knew was a little bit exciting. And scary... What would she think of me? What would she say after reading my stories, learning what a secret pervert I was, discovering my kinks and fetishes laid bare on the screen?

But what if she liked it?

She seemed intrigued. And she liked erotica. Maybe she'd read it and enjoy it. I'd have someone to discuss my stories with in real life. The possibility had always tempted me, but I hadn't ever felt comfortable enough with someone to share my secret hobby. Maybe now was my chance. Maybe I'd have a personal beta reader, someone I could discuss my story ideas with, someone I could send my writings to before publishing them online.

"Alright. I'll email you a link after work," I said.

"You better. If you forget, I'll send Lupin to steal it from you," she warned.

We finished our lunches, and when I got back home that night, despite my fears, I sent her the link. Something relatively tame, just some skinny dipping, exhibitionism, and public sex. I made sure to avoid anything too kinky: no incest or mind control or gomorrahmy anything. She messaged me back with a quick "Thanks." The next day, I waited for her to bring it up, but nothing. Nothing the day after, either. After two weeks without a comment on the story, I figured she had either forgotten about it or hated it too much to want to discuss. I didn't dare bring it up in case it was the latter.

And then one day, almost a month after I had first sent her my story, she remarked during an otherwise ordinary lunch, "Oh, I wanted to tell you. I finally read that story you sent me."

I almost choked on my taco. A cold depth opened in my stomach. I fully expected her next sentence to be, "Wow, you're a creepy pervert, you know that? I've already reported you to HR so they can fire you. After this conversation I'm taking an electromagnet to my laptop and drinking obscene amounts of alcohol in an attempt to purge any memory of your story from my memory and that of my computer."

But to my surprise, her next words were instead, "It was so good! I loved it!"

"R-really?" was all I could stammer out, my heart still dancing a tarantella in my chest.

"Yeah! The descriptions were amazing. I felt like I was there. Like I was living vicariously through your story. You've really got a way with words." She looked around for witnesses and, satisfied that no one nearby was close enough to us to overhear, continued at a whisper. "Have you ever gone skinny dipping before?"

"A few times, yeah," I admitted. And at that, Vicky's eyes lit up. She learned forward, her full, plump breasts resting on the table, her low-cut top affording me a generous view of her generous décolletage. I quickly returned my eyes to her gaze before she could notice where I was looking.

"What was it like? Was it for research? Or fun?" she asked, rapid-fire. "What happened?"

"It was just for fun at the time, but it definitely ended up being good story research after the fact. It was back when I worked at a summer camp. A few of us camp counselors went to North Beach after the kids were asleep, and it just sort of happened. Someone joked about it, and then someone else brought it up seriously," I told her, omitting to mention that I was the someone else. "They took off their swimsuit first, and pretty soon everyone was doing it."

"Was it just boys?" she asked.

"No, mixed. Co-ed. It's not like we had planned on it happening beforehand."

She held her hand over her mouth. "Oh, wow. You weren't embarrassed? Did you look a lot? Did anyone look at you?"

"A bit, at first. But it didn't last long. Once everyone was naked it just felt normal. You get used to it pretty quickly. Or at least, I did. Plus, you know, alcohol was involved, so."

"Wow," she said, letting out a deep sigh. "If you had said you hadn't tried it, I would have said your imagination has no limits. It definitely felt real in the story, like I was on the beach with you. I've always wanted to go skinny dipping. It seems like so much fun. And you make it sound like an amazing experience."

Was she hinting at something? I would have sworn she was fishing. If she were, I wouldn't be very difficult prey. I had had a crush on her when we first met that had slowly subsided as our friendship deepened, but I had never stopped finding her attractive, nor could I deny that she showed up in my fantasies from time to time.

Her sleek, long, raven hair. Her large, deep brown eyes, crescent and raised at the ends, that crinkled so charmingly whenever she smiled and gave her an air of innocent sweetness. Her large, full breasts and abundant cleavage that she so often flaunted, even at work, not that I stared, of course. And all of it came with a sweet, vivacious personality that was always willing and eager to try something new, be it a cooking class or whirlyball.

I decided to pull on her hook a bit and check whether there were any desire to reel me in. "Oh, it really is. It feels amazing. Just you and the water, with nothing between you. It feels so freeing. I haven't gone in ages, though. It's a shame," I said, trailing off wistfully, regretfully.

"Isn't North Beach nearby?" she inquired. "It's near Flo's, right?"

"Oh yeah, that's the one. If you go at night, there's no one around, and you can basically do whatever you want. Some nights you might run into someone, but I think I only ever saw other people there like, once, and we just waited for them to leave before taking off our suits." It'd be so easy for us to go together, I wanted to add.

She looked into the sky pensively. I took another bite of my lunch and hoped she was having the same thought. She looked like she was wrestling with a decision. "John?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?" I replied as casually as I could fake.

"Would you...no, never mind..."

"What is it, Vicky?"

"Well...would you ever want to...go with me? Skinny dipping? I've always been curious, and it's okay if you don't feel comfortable, but I feel safe with you, and since you have experience...would you?" she asked, her eyes big and beautiful and staring so hopefully into my own. How could I say no? I even resisted the urge to tease her, lest she reconsider.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun. I think you're really going to enjoy it." I know I will... Already, unbidden, predictions of her naked body were filling my mind. "When's good for you?"

"This weekend?" she asked. "How about Saturday? What time is good to go?"

Eager. Good. "We used to get there around midnight and it was empty then. How about I pick you up at 11:30 and we'll drive together?"

She beamed. "Perfect. My first time skinny dipping... I can't wait!"

"Me neither..."

* * * * *

The rest of the week passed interminably slowly. I should have just offered to take her Monday night. But day by day, hour by hour, Saturday plodded closer and closer, until finally, the day arrived. I tried to will the sun to move more quickly and hurry the night, but alas, I had to wait for the appointed time to arrive all on its own.

As soon as I could, I stuffed a beach towel into the back seat of my car and drove to Vicky's. I cursed every red light for delaying me even further and silently thanked the green lights for their benevolence. But despite the dastardly attempted sabotage of those nefarious crimson bastards, I finally arrived at Vicky's house.

I couldn't remember how many times I had driven there before, but this time was different. It still felt unreal that Vicky was planning to get into my car, drive with me to the beach, and take off all of her clothes in front of me. Even after a week of imagining and re-imagining, it still felt impossible. I wasn't entirely convinced that I wouldn't knock on her door only to discover I had dreamt our entire conversation. I expelled my worries in a deep sigh. It was time.

I had just unbuckled my seat belt when the front door of her house opened, and Vicky came out carrying a beach bag and wearing a pair of sandals and a floral sundress that unfortunately, and unusually for her, covered her entire chest. She looked as though she didn't realize it was night, and had dressed for the daytime beach, instead. She skipped to the car and let herself in.

"Hey, John! Right on time!" she greeted me, closing the door behind her and buckling up.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Ready?"

"Yeah. As ready as I'll ever be," she intoned.

We drove in silence for the first minute or so. Neither of us quite knew what to say. I wished I knew what was going on in her mind. Was she as nervous as I was? At least I had gone skinny dipping before. This was her first time. Was she scared? Excited? Exhilarated? I wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but I couldn't help but fear that I would come off as the over eager pervert I felt I was if I too directly addressed our true purpose tonight. "So, ready to take off your clothes with me?" didn't seem like it would reassure a nervous companion.

Luckily, Vicky broke the silence. "So tell me more about your first time," she prompted. "You just sort of glossed over it before. Was it anything like your story?"

I laughed. "I wish. It was a decidedly platonic affair, unfortunately. But it was still fun. Like I said, a bunch of us camp counselors went to the beach together for some night swimming. We had already been a few times that summer. It was refreshing and invigorating and something fun to do once the kids were all asleep. Not everyone was over twenty-one, so we couldn't go to bars or anything, and you'd get fired for drinking at the camp, so the beach became our place to escape.

"So it was me, another guy, and three girls there that night. We brought some drinks and were just playing around in the water. The waves were pretty choppy that night, and one of the girls, Ashley, was wearing a pretty flimsy swimsuit. One of the waves took her top off, but she managed to get it back on pretty quickly. But after that we were teasing her a bit about just leaving it off."

"Sounds like you had an ulterior motive," Vicky observed.

I shrugged. "She was hot. I certainly wasn't going to try to encourage her to keep her top on. But she said she'd only go skinny dipping if someone else did first, and she probably just meant it as a joke, but I took her up on it."

"So

you

were the trendsetter? My, my, how naughty."

"I'd always wanted to try it. And I was being given permission, so I figured, why not? I told her I'd go first, so I took off my trunks. Water was above my waist, anyway, so you couldn't really see anything, but after that, everyone else joined me one at a time. First Ashley did, then the other counselors. One of the girls just went halfway and left her bottoms on, but otherwise everyone was naked by the time we left.

"Nothing sexual happened, though. We were just having fun. There was definitely some staring happening, and some flirty comments, but honestly, it was more de-sexualizing than anything. Before then, I had been crushing on one of the other counselors, but afterwards, it was just different. Like we had shared that experience together and now her body was natural, not sexual, I guess.

"After that, midnight skinny dipping became a bit of a tradition with the camp counselors. We'd go once or twice a week. Got most of the counselors to try it at least once. Managed to keep it a secret from the kids and our bosses, which was good. I know that some of the people who returned the next summer kept the tradition going, but I don't know anyone who still works there now. I hope they're still doing it."

"That sounds like so much fun. Like a secret skinny dipping society!"

"So how about you, Vicky? What makes you want to try it?"

"Me? Well... How about we start by agreeing that this whole night is just between us?"

"Sure."

"Okay, good. For me, it just represents freedom and leaving behind inhibitions. I mean, I don't even really like wearing swimsuits in public. I'm pretty self-conscious about my size," she explained. "Always have been. I'm fat, you know?"

I stole a glance at her. It was true she was no lithe waif, and she certainly wasn't fat, but she was undeniably bigger than your usual Vietnamese girl. Still, I'd describe her as zaftig or plump. She carried it well, too. Wide hips, nice ass, and those deliciously ample breasts of hers that so attracted my gaze and occupied my thoughts. "You are not. You look great."

"Thanks, but that's not what my family told me growing up. Not what I heard in high school or college, either. I'm working on it, but I'm still pretty shy about my body, besides my tits, anyways. Those always got me attention. Honestly, thank goodness for 'em. They kept my confidence up during the worst of it. But I guess I feel like going skinny dipping would be a good stepping stone for me, you know? A sign I was feeling more confident about myself.

"And the idea of it has always excited me, too," she confessed with a giggle. "Never really knew when I'd get a chance at it, though. So I'm really glad that you agreed to do this with me. Thank you, John."

"You're more than welcome, Vicky. I've been looking forward to this, too. It's been years. It's nice to have someone to try this with."

"Maybe we can put together our own skinny dipping society," she suggested.

"That could be fun." I wondered which of our friends would be susceptible to an invitation. Sally didn't seem the type. Too modest. But Donna might be up for it...

"We're here!" Vicky announced, interrupting that train of thought. I pulled into the empty parking lot and parked right next to the beach, a chain strung across the normal entrance.

I parked the car and grabbed my towel. Vicky swung her bag onto her shoulder and followed me over the chain and onto the beach. The beach was deserted. It was just us. Perfect.

The sky was clear and moonless. The stars scintillated brilliantly, undimmed by any artificial lights. The horizon was invisible, black sea and black sky merging together. The onyx waves crashes into the shore with a soft hush, and a light breeze carried the invigorating aroma of the sea to our nostrils. I walked up to an empty lifeguard chair and set my towel on it. It'd make for a convenient place to leave our things without fear of losing track of them. I took Vicky's bag from her and placed it on the seat, as well.

We stared at each other for a moment. "Well, uh, guess it's time," I said.

"Yeah. Guess so."

Seconds ticked past silently. I took a deep breath. Looked like it was up to me to initiate things. I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it onto my towel. Vicky stepped out of her sandals and bent over to grab the hem of her dress. I gallantly turned my back to her to let her undress, leaving her a few more moments of modesty.

I hurriedly finished undressing. It was brisk this close to the ocean, despite the August weather, and the sooner I got into the Atlantic, the sooner I'd acclimate. Finally, with all of my clothes laying at my feet, I turned around. Vicky's and my eyes met, then lowered. There she was before me, entirely naked. Entirely naked, that is, except for her cerulean tankini. On someone less well-endowed, it would have been modest. On her, the top did nothing to hide the bounty of her bust, emphasizing her endowment and deep cleavage.

I raised my eyes. Vicky didn't. "Wow. You're naked," she observed flatly, her eyes wide and unwavering.

"You're not."

"I was going to ease into it," she said defensively. She finally re-established eye contact. "That's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, of course," I exaggerated. It was one thing to be naked when everyone else was, or in the thrill of the alcohol-marinated moment. It was only weird for a second, until others joined you. It was another to be soberly and singularly nude in front of your friend. I was completely exposed before her, and she was making little attempt to hide her gaze. I was also uncomfortably aware that I was a rather less impressive male specimen that I would have liked, thanks to the ocean breeze. Her look felt like a physical force, roaming across my body as she observed every detail. I resisted the urge to cover my body and instead said, "Let's go," letting her lead the way to the water.

The soft sand yielded comfortably beneath my feet, squishing between my toes, getting damper with each step towards the ocean. Familiar sensations from years ago came fluttering into my memory. The laughter of the other counselors, the splashing of the water, the looks of surprise when I had first taken off my suit, soon followed by mirth as they joined me, the bouncing and jiggling of Ashley, Emily, and Danielle...

A squeaky yelp brought me back to the beach. "It's cold!" Vicky complained.

"You just have to get used to it. Just go all the way in," I instructed her, wading in deeper past her, eager to get the waterline above my waist. She was right. It was chilly. But I knew from experience that it would soon become comfortable. As soon as the water was deep enough, I dived in.