Chapter One: Arrival
Carol and I love the south Florida beaches, especially nude beaches of which Florida has three, Haulover, Playalinda and the lesser-known Apollo beach on the gulf side. I love seeing Carol naked in public. She has great curves and an all over tan. So, we set ourselves on a weekend stay near Haulover Beach.
Friday arrived and we set off, before dawn, on the five-hour drive to the St. Regis Bal Harbor resort. It's just down from Haulover Beach. When we arrived, it was mid-morning, and the Florida sun was already high. It was an amazing weather day for the beach.
The air was thick with salt and heat, and the breeze off the water danced through the palms. It was our first getaway in weeks, and as we pulled into the parking lot, I could already feel the stress of the daily grind melting away.
Carol reached for her sunglasses, slipped them on, and looked at me with a sly smile.
"You ready to lose those clothes?"
I grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."
We had always shared this side of ourselves, naturism wasn't just a hobby. It was part of who we were. There was something intoxicating about being naked in public. No shame. Just freedom.
Carol had that glow about her, the kind that turned heads wherever she went, not just for her looks, but for the quiet confidence she carried in every step. Even in her fifties, she moved with the grace of the dancer she once was, and her body still carried the strength and elegance of those years. Her legs, long and toned, seemed to glide across the sand. Her smile, playful and knowing, made me feel like the luckiest man on the beach.
We found a spot near the dunes, and not far from the water line, and as we set up our chairs, Carol suggested something a little different.
"What if we set up apart today?" she asked, already untying her wrap. "Just a few yards. You over there, me here. Close enough to see me... but not with me."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're feeling bold."
She shrugged with a grin. "Being naked on the beach brings it out of me."
So, we did just that.
She laid out her towel on her Tommy Bahama lounge chair and reclined, her skin already kissed by the sun. I moved a little to the side, where I could watch her naked without being right next to her.
And then took off her beach wrap leaving her naked.
She appeared so confident.
The sight of her bare tits and ass, beautiful, unafraid, never failed to excite me. And judging by the way a few passersby subtly slowed their strolls, I wasn't the only one who noticed.
At first, it was just a few glances. A couple of casual hellos from other beachgoers. But then a tall, handsome, athletic man approached, shoulders broad, and body carved like a statue. He carried himself with ease and familiarity, like he'd been here a hundred times.
He didn't even glance at me.
Instead, he walked right up to Carol and offered a polite nod before settling down cross-legged just in front of her.
I reached for my phone, adjusting the angle slightly to catch their voices through a discreet mic, something Carol and I had used before when we played with distance and voyeurism.
His name was Louis.
And he was charming, smooth, respectful, but clearly intrigued. Carol laughed at something he said, and that laugh told me everything. She was enjoying herself.
He asked about her tan. Her favorite beaches. Her feet, which he admired openly.
And then, with a quiet confidence that was almost shocking, he reached out and began to gently rub one of her feet. Gently massaging the bottom of her right sole.
Carol didn't stop him.
She didn't even flinch.
I watched her toes flex under his touch, her body shifting slightly as his hands worked with slow, circular patterns over her arches and then up around her calves.
She was relaxing.
And yet... there was something else.
As Louis's fingers moved, Carol's legs parted just slightly, her hips sinking lower into the towel, the sunlight casting golden warmth along every curve.
I swallowed hard.
Her pussy was completely shaved and exposed. I could see every detail of womanhood from where I was sitting.
Jealousy stirred, but so did curiosity.
Where would this lead, I thought?
And more importantly, what would we choose to do with it?
Chapter Two: The Gaze
Carol was radiant in the sunlight.
There was something about her posture, reclined back in her lounger, yet alert, that suggested she was aware of every glance she received. She didn't hide from it. She welcomed it.
Louis remained in front of her, still kneeling casually, his back to the surf. His hands moved with deliberate ease, never rushing, never uncertain. He was studying her feet like an artist studies light, running his thumbs slowly over her soles, circling the arches, letting his fingers trace the curve of her cute sexy ankles.
Carol tilted her head back, resting it on her folded towel. Her eyes closed. Her lips parted just slightly, and a soft exhale slipped past them, the kind I knew well. She wasn't speaking anymore. She was feeling.
And I was watching.
It felt surreal to see her this way, from a distance. To be outside the frame instead of in it.
Every so often, Louis would glance up at her face, reading her response. He was just... captivated by her body.
And Carol was beginning to respond.
Her legs parted slightly, opening just a touch more. Enough to let the breeze drift between them. Enough to signal, subtly, that she was comfortable exposing herself. Present. Aware of what she was offering, and who was looking at her.
I adjusted in my chair, feeling a heat that had little to do with the bright sun. A strange tension pulled at my chest, half arousal, half apprehension. And yet, I trusted Carol. She wasn't doing this to provoke me. She was inviting me into it.
This was our game.
And it was playing out more beautifully than I had imagined.
Louis reached for her ankle again and lifted her foot, resting it gently on his thigh. With one hand, he massaged the ball of her foot, and with the other, he lightly skimmed his fingertips along her calf, trailing higher, just above the knee.
Carol opened her eyes and looked at him.
Then slowly, she turned her head and looked at me.
Her gaze locked onto mine across the space between us.
She didn't smile.
She didn't need to.
Everything Carol wanted me to feel was in her eyes: I see you. I know what I'm doing. And I want you to watch.
It was the most intimate moment we'd shared in weeks.
And we weren't even touching.
Chapter Three: The Invitation
When she turned back to Louis, her posture shifted again. She sat up slightly, her chest lifting, her beautiful tits standing at attention, as she adjusted herself on the lounger.
Louis noticed.
He glanced at her face first, but then his gaze traveled down her neck, across her tanned tits, past her stomach, and down to between her thighs, her pussy fully exposed.
He looked taken by Carol.
"I brought some oil," Louis said, his voice warm and low. "May I?"
Carol looked down at the bottle he pulled from his bag, a tube of coconut-scented oil, then back at him. Her lips formed a playful smile.
"Sure," Carol said. "As long as you're not shy."
From my chair, I was getting so turned on. My cock was beginning to swell at the sight.
This was part of something we'd long whispered about in bed but had never dared act on. Until now.