Time and again I heard movie stars explain that wearing scanty clothes didn't mean much to them because they grew up with nudity common in their homes. These people were not conventional nudists who visit nudist resorts and parks. This was usually just practiced at home. Being a voyeur, I often wondered what this would be like. I found out.
Camping is my main form of recreation. I earned my living and then some so I retired early. Now I had a lot of time to pursue my dream of spending most of the warm weather season camping.
Camping in Northern Idaho, I noticed that women seemed to lose their inhibitions. It seemed natural that when people were at the hot springs in the Wilderness Areas, they would strip down and go into the hot pools. However, I noticed that even in other camping places, especially near rivers, women would stand in the open and change into or out of their swim suits. One woman in particular, seemed determined to be seen. There were bushes all around but she seemed to seek out an area clearly open to my view to change.
She and her family had just walked up from the river. Her daughters, I guessed, seemed to be well enough developed they had to be in their early twenties, went behind their tent and changed from their swim suits into their shorts. Not mom. She stood right in the clear area and faced me. She then peeled her one piece swim suit off her body with just a slight smile on her face. She had draped her towel over the limb of a nearby bush. She didn't reach for it right away. She stood looking at me.
Feeling just a little bit ornery, I pulled my shorts down and waved at her with my cock. Just as I did, the three girls walked out from behind the tent with their shorts on. They still had their wet bikini tops on but I just noticed out of the corner of my eye. I was busy flirting and being flirted with. Suddenly I realized there were four smiling faces looking at me. One of the girls said, "What'cha doin," Mom?"
"Just playing with our neighbor. He's playing back," she said. They all laughed.
One of the other girls said, "We want to play too." With that she pulled her bikini top up. She had very nice, firm breasts that took my attention away from Mom's smaller breasts and shaved pussy. She just as quickly pulled it down and said, "Behave, Mom." With that "Mom" got her towel and dried off. As soon as the girls appeared, I had pulled my shorts back up. I thought that was the end of it.
That night I could hear the women laughing and talking. I could not make out what they were saying but it sounded like they were outside the tent. They should be since it was a warm night and tents tend to hold their heat quite a while after the sun goes down. I had fallen asleep after gathering some wood for my campfire and their voices had apparently awakened me.
I looked out the tent door and all was dark except where they had a campfire going. I was naked but since it was dark, I stepped out of my tent and stood up. I could now hear the lower voices of men. I couldn't make out who was who because it was not light enough by the fire.
Suddenly I was caught in a flash of light from my right. Not only was I surprised by the light but for some reason, I became erect. There was a female voice behind the light.
"I caught you peeking," she said.
"Not really," I explained. "Voices woke me up and I just stepped out of the tent."
"So, how come you got a hard-on?"
"I can't explain that," I replied, "but as soon as your light hit me, so did the erection."
I could not see who was behind the flashlight but she replied, "That's okay. It's a nice cock. Especially hard like that."
What could I say. "Thanks!"
"I had to pee," she said, "come over to the fire and meet the gang."
I said, "Let me get my shorts."
"No way," she said, and reached for my cock.
Reactively, I stepped back and sprained my ankle. Oh, it hurt. I yelped and grabbed at the offending member.
She yelled for help and soon I was surrounded by mostly fully clothed men and women eager to tend to my disability.
Suddenly I had only one interest: I wanted to get home and get that ankle on ice. It was really hurting. I expressed my desire.
I asked them to help me up, get some of my shorts on me and load me into my vehicle so I get gone. I told them to just leave my stuff; it could be replaced but with prior experience with a sprained ankle, I knew what was most important at the moment.
Mom asked where I lived. When I told her she said, "That's more than 150 miles away!"
I said I could make it.
They lifted me to put pants on me and when I was upright, the throbbing really hit me and I wasn't sure I could stand it for 150 miles. They knew I couldn't. Then Mom took charge.
"Joan, we've got ice left in our ice chest. Get it. Bill and Michael, lay this man in the back of my van and put a couple of towels under his ankle. The middle seat is out. Then when Joan brings the ice, pour it over his ankle and wrap the towels around it. I'm taking him to our place." I was still naked.
I said I had ice in my chest too and that was found and added to the other. I began to feel seriously helped already.
Her orders were quickly completed. I could still her giving directions. "Get the man's keys. Just pull down his tent and pile all his stuff in the pack of his truck. She shell will keep it there and he can roll and pack it all neatly when he has sufficiently recovered. Drive it over to our house, Bill."
She was my savior. The drive wasn't very long since she lived in a town only about thirty minutes from where we had been camped. As soon as we were there, I was carried into the house and placed on a couch, still naked. Everyone else was dressed.
Pretty soon everybody but Mom and a girl named Morgan was gone. Even though I was still lying there naked, I was almost invisible. Occasionally, one of the women would ask if I needed anything, or if I was reasonably comfortable.
One of the men brought in several bags of ice from the store and they were put in the refrigerator. I saw no more men for several days.
I asked Mom's name and she told me it was Nancy and apologized for failing to make introductions. She asked me my name and I told her Roger, because that's what it is. I'm a geezer and Nancy had to be at least fifteen years my junior. She was in her forties or maybe fifty.
I saw there was a clock on the wall so time began to mean something. I had lost track. About 8:35 that evening I heard Nancy tell Morgan she was going to take a shower and get ready for bed.
Morgan must have been a between twenty and twenty five. She was pretty nice looking. She wore shorts and a bikini top. The breasts were probably thirty four or so and looked pretty full. Her shorts were baggy so I couldn't determine what her butt looked like. My pain was beginning to subside through ice treatments and ibuprofen tablets so I could begin to concentrate on something besides myself. I hate when that happens.
Some fifteen minutes later, Nancy reappeared. She was naked except for having her hair wrapped in a towel. I first began to size her up. She was typical of the age I had guessed. A few wrinkles ran along her legs but she was fairly firm, I suspected from working on her feet. There was the expected cellulite and light varicose veins. I'm about fifteen pounds overweight and too old for repairs. I figured she was in about the same shape. She was five and a half feet tall or so. Her breasts weren't overly large, and I think there is such a thing. Most impressively they did NOT rest on her stomach but had a mind of their own. They were still pretty full.
Nancy sat down in a chair and picking up the remote, turned the TV on. Then she yelled, "Morgan!"
Morgan was just coming out of the hall behind Nancy's chair. In response she grinned and yelled, "Mom!"
Nancy jumped and I got the first laugh since spraining my ankle.
"Smart ass," Nancy said, "This man we have been talking about has a name. He's Roger. I just had forgotten to ask."
Morgan said, "Nice to meet you, Roger. Too bad about the circumstances."
She went back into the hall when the telephone rang. About that same time the front door opened and a man about Nancy's age walked in. He turned out to be her husband, Stan. He was just coming in from where he had been away working for a week.
