Prude To Nude Ch 04

This is the story of how I went from a prude, to nude and finally to rude. For those readers who expect a lot of immediate sexual activity, this may disappoint. Nudism did lead me to sexual awakenings, but it did not happen all that quickly. I recommend that you read my recollections from the beginning to understand better the context.

*****

The BBQ barn was lit by lanterns on the ceiling and candles on the tables. When I say barn I really mean a large, wall-less roofed area furnished with chairs, tables and a few sofas. It was where the campers at the nudist retreat gathered of an evening to socialise.

It was my first time there. I had arrived at an empty campground just the day before, determined to try naturism. Dave and Sabrina the owners had been sweet and helpful. Today eight other guests (three couples and two single men) had arrived and now I had been invited to join them all for an evening BBQ. For the first time ever I was about to socialise with other naked people.

A friendly fire was glowing in one corner, a large gas-fired BBQ was sizzling at one edge of the Barn, and the campers sat around a large communal table they had made by putting a lot of smaller tables together. The table was laden with nibbles, chips and dips and cheeses, and bottles of wine and beer.

"We all just sort of throw in whatever we have," Sabrina told me, leading me from the darkening evening into the warm light of the barn. All eyes turned toward me and I was bombarded with welcoming smiles and gestures. All of them, except Dave (who was tending the BBQ) were seated and I momentarily felt vulnerable standing there naked. I could not always tell who was looking at me just as a person, or who was appraising my naked body. I made eye contact with Gary and he gave me a friendly hello, but I'm sure I saw Daryl studying my boobs and even gazing at my pubic mound before I 'caught him out'. It was awkward to say the least.

Steph came to my rescue and pulled out a chair offering me a seat next to her and her husband Bruce, (the couple of the expensive tent which they seemed to share with Daryl.) I sat gratefully, remembering to put my towel down on the seat first. We were all now only visible from the chest up. Bruce poured me a glass of much needed wine, and I sipped as the conversation flowed around me.

From where I sat I could watch Dave. Like Sabrina he was clad in a tiny apron which covered his genitals but left his butt bare as he flipped and poked at the variety of goodies that were grilling on the BBQ. Sabrina hovered around, putting out salads and homemade bread. Her small breasts appearing and disappearing behind her long dark hair as she leant over the table.

The eight other guests (who were clearly all old friends) laughed and joked and chatted away.. As for me, being naturally shy, and still coming to terms with nudity, I'm afraid I did not add much to the conversation, which was mainly about where there had gotten nude since they all saw each other last - it seemed to be a both a hobby and a source of immense satisfaction for them to relate where, how often and under what circumstances they had taken their clothes off. I was beginning to understand that for them,nudism was almost a vocation, a constant challenge against society to live as they truly wanted to. As Stew (the guy who looked like a biker and not at all what I had imagined naturists to look like) said, "It's all about freedom baby, right?" Although I cringed at being called 'baby', I did see his point. They were mini-activists, wanting to live as freely as possible, but feeling themselves confined to places like nude beaches and this hidden away camping retreat.

Eventually Dave turned to us to announce the feast was ready. I noticed that his apron bore printing which read, "Kiss this cook". Except someone had replaced one of the letters in 'cook' with the obvious consonant. I actually found that a little confronting - although no-one else paid it any attention. In my short two days as a nudist, I had only just come around to using the word 'dick' instead of penis (and only in my own head, not out loud). Now here I was reading and thinking the word 'cock'. As fate would have it, tall Daryl stood up from the table opposite me just then to help Dave, and the word 'cock' screamed itself in my mind. The huge, large headed serpentine thing that hung down between his legs was definitely not a penis, not even a dick. The only word for it was cock. In had to prise my eyes away from it and hoped nobody had seen how fixated I had been on it. Daryl was an OK looking guy. Fit and tall with a shaven head like Patrick Stewart. But he wasn't my type (As a virgin I wasn't sure I had a 'type'..except maybe for Johnny Depp). By which I mean I don't think I was attracted to him. But his cock was mesmerising. I wondered if he was conscious of it? Proud of it? And the other women? Did they look at it too and compare it to that of their own partners? Did they ever bother to notice these things? I knew already that I had the largest boobs in the group. Not the best, just the biggest. Did the men make mental notes on these things? Or as so many websites I had read suggested, were they immune to such thoughts?

I only knew that I wasn't. Try as I might, I could not help comparing. Sabrina's small and fit body, Dave's placid cock, John's tummy and his wee little dick, Steph's pale teardrop shaped breasts, Stew's handsome tanned buttocks and velvety dick, Moira's junoesque figure with her large dark areolas - everywhere I looked I found another body part to appraise, another indication that we are all different, but all beautiful in our own way. Even me... with my slightly pendulous boobs, my butt much bigger than I would like, and ( my biggest fear) my labia. My inner lips were not protruding, my vagina was often no more than a chubby slit hidden by my pubic hair. Yet I had a nagging doubt that it was not 'neat' enough, that men might find it ugly. Moreover, thanks to my Asian heritage, I often worried that it, like my nipples, was too dark in colour. And, shame of all shames, did I smell OK 'down there'. Why did I have these concerns? I can't really say. What is it that makes us so concerned about details of our body we have no control over? It was, after all, my reason for being here - to learn to accept these things.

I had so much to learn from these people. These folks who moved and talked with so much ease, not caring what aspect of their bodies others saw. Not in the least concerned about being judged.

I accepted another glass of wine from Steph before remembering my manners and running to my tent to get a bottle of Semillon from my own supplies. After all, everyone but me had chipped in to the BBQ and I did not want to seem like a freeloader.

When I got back to the barn, Greg was standing just outside it, smoking a cigarette.

"You need more booze?" he joked.

"Oh no. Just adding my contribution," I said.

"About today..." he began.

I knew he was alluding to the moment on the nature trail when he had asked me to take his photo and had developed an erection as I did so. But I did not want to make a big deal of it.

"Today?"

"My umm... excitement." he said, red faced,

"Oh, no problem," I replied. "I'm sure it happens all the time."

"Well, no actually," Greg smiled. "At least, it's not supposed to. I'm really sorry and..."

"And?"

"Could you," he stomped out his cigarette and looked at the ground. "Could you do me a huge favour and not mention it? Especially around Dave and Sabrina. It could get me kicked out and, well, I really like it here."

In realised then that he was terrified that I might complain about him to the owners. Who was I to set rules?

"Please," I said. "Forget it. I'm sure it was just an accident."

The relief on his face was priceless.

"Thank you so much Kasumi," he offered to shake my hand. "I promise it will never happen again."

He looked so much like a lost puppy that I couldn't help wanting to put his mind at ease.

"No problem," I smiled. "I understand that it happens to men. And might happen anytime,"

I turned to go back to the BBQ and for some reason I suddenly felt mischievous .

"Anytime," I said ambiguously and glanced down at his cock.

Back at the table Dave, Daryl and Sabrina had served up a scrumptious meal. I timidly added my one bottle of wine to the table and sat down to 'tuck in'.

I admit it - I'm a girl who likes her food. And this food was so good, so fresh and flavorsome that for the next 20 minutes or so I almost forgot about my nudity, about everyone's nudity, and just enjoyed the convivial and lovely meal we all shared. We ate, we drank, we chatted (well, they chatted and I listened) and we enjoyed the music. And with the night settling in, the stars sparkling above and the soft breeze blowing the smell of eucalypt trees over the lawn, it was a perfect evening.

The music: Dave, apart from photography, had another hobby. One he seemed to share with John. Both of them fancied themselves as amateur DJs and both wrestled for control of the sound system, playing track after track and each insisting that their own choices were the best. I'm not an expert in popular music. Growing up my own tastes were shaped by my parents and I tended to listen to classical and jazz music at home. Dave and John on the other hand, were self acknowledged experts in rock, blues, R&B and everything in between. I must admit, I enjoyed their brand of music. It was what I had never really known music to be before...it was simply fun. By the time we had finished eating Moira and Barb were up out of their seats and dancing to the music. Steph and Bruce soon joined them and a few minutes later Sabrina sashayed over and began to dance among the little crowd. The single guys Greg and Daryl stepped outside the barn to smoke a cigarette which left me alone at the table with Stew - the tough looking biker with the attractive golden dick.

Stew was, despite his looks, gentle and polite. He poured me another glass of wine and sat with me in companionable silence, gazing all the while over at his partner Barb, who was now dancing a slow number arm in arm with Moira. Bruce and Steph were dancing in each other's arms and I was more than a little surprised to see John walk away from the sound system and take little Sabrina in his big meaty arms and waltz with her to a bluesy country western song, while her hubby Dave remained over at the stereo, intent on queuing up the next song.

I sat and watched the dancers, all so unconscious or uncaring about their nudity, and in the lamplight I thought they all looked lovely. Their tanned skin glowed and their faces were full of a simple and frank joie de vivre. It's a pity, I thought, that I'm not a dancer.

"Umm, care to dance?"

I looked up to see Greg holding out a shy hand, indicating the dance area. From over where the others were dancing slowly, Sabrina caught my eye and beckoned.

"Don't be shy Kasumi," she called. "We're all friends here."

I swallowed a last mouthful of wine for courage and gave Greg my hand. Like a 19th Century gentleman he bowed slightly, took the tips of my fingers and led me onto the floor.

It was a moment where time seemed to stop and memories flooded in. Or I should say, the lack of memories. I had never been asked to dance before in my life. Had not been to a high school dance, and had always been the girl at the nightclub who sat and minded the handbags while my friends were whisked away onto the dance floor by young men who never seemed to see me. Now I was shyly wondering just what to do out there. The music changed to a disco like number and Greg let go of my hand and began to sway his hips and wave his hands about in pretty poor John Travolta impression...who was I to judge? I tried to mirror his movements and after a few minutes, the pure joy of just dancing made me lose my self consciousness and I really got into it. The fact that everyone else was dancing in a similar silly fashion made me feel safe and free.

By the time the next song came around we were all dancing in a sort of tribal circle. I was acutely aware that my boobs were bouncing and swaying all over the place and that my sense of rhythm left a lot to be desired, but oh how we all laughed and lost ourselves in the moment. I learnt then that while dancing, it was perfectly acceptable for nudists to really 'look' at one another and to even make comment on our dancing bodies.

"Yeah! Shake it!," Moria would say to whoever was dancing most vigorously.

"Yeah baby, give it up!" someone else would say. And everyone (except me) seemed to enjoy exaggerating their movements in a lighthearted parody of 'dirty dancing'.

After twenty minutes or so I got used to boobs, bums and cocks all bouncing around me, and I almost forgot about how I must look with my breasts swaying and my less than perfect thighs 'wobbling' as I danced.

Then came a slow number. Everyone suddenly paired up for a waltz. Bruce and Steph, Sabrina and John, Barb and Dave (Barb's partner Stew was still sitting at the table chatting to Daryl). Greg looked at me questioningly and spread his arms. A moment later I was in his embrace and we waltzed around the barn floor, All very proper and polite, yet here I was, naked and in the arms of a naked man. It was nerve wracking, it was warm and snug, it was electric.

Dave or John must have queued up a lot of slow songs for it seemed we waltzed for hours - although it was probably only 20 minutes.

Greg and I made small talk as we danced, mostly about our own musical tastes. He suddenly maneuvered me around so my back was to the crowd and his own body was almost lost in shadows. For about three seconds I wondered why he had decided to change position so abruptly - then I realised. I could feel something hot and very hard pressing against my tummy. He had a full, straining erection. I couldn't see it, but there was no mistaking what it was.

"I'm really sorry," he said. "It just sort of happens sometimes."

Sometimes? I thought. More like all the time! This was his second today. I was inexperienced enough back then to think that two erections in a day was a lot.

I was embarrassed, but more for him than for myself.

"What shall we do?" I whispered. "Wait for it to go away? You can't walk around like that!"

"Mmm, " he said sheepishly. "If I stay here I don't think it will just go away."

Just then I felt his cock throb and knock against my tummy. I felt a moistness smearing around my belly button.

"If you just dance with me to the edge of the barn," he asked. "I should be able to slip into the pool unseen and ah...cool off."

It seemed like a reasonable plan to me, so we both slowly waltzed deeper into the shadows until he could separate from me and glide away into the pool.

"Sorry," he said again as he disappeared into the water.

I walked back to the table. As I sat down I brushed my hand over my stomach and felt a thin liquid coating it. "Pre-cum", my mind told me. "Nothing to worry about." Nothing at all, I thought, but it is a little intriguing...exciting.

When I sat down again, Stew offered me another drink and Daryl asked how I had enjoyed the dance with Greg. They were both so friendly and sincere that I resolved not to make a big deal of Greg's hard-on.

Someone else did however. Dave came over and asked if he could have a word with me in private. The other guys stood and went to the dance floor and Dave sat in a chair close to me.

"I was looking out for you," he began. "And I think I know what Greg was up to. Did he make a move on you?"

"No," I said. "We just danced."...Where was he going with this? I wondered.

"I saw him," Dave continued. "And I know he was...aroused. We don't condone sexual advances like that. Say the word and I'll kick him out."

I know I should have felt safe and protected when Dave said this, but I didn't. I felt indignant, almost angry. Did he think I was incapable of looking out for myself? Even worse, that I was unable to make my own choices? I felt patronised and insulted, though I fought it down and told myself that Dave had my best interests at heart. (and the reputation of his business). If we were at a clothed venue, I wondered, would the manager be on the lookout for any dancing men who had erections inside their trousers - and I am sure that must happen. Greg had an accidental hard-on, excused himself and left me - end of story.

I know I shouldn't feel upset by Dave's concern, but I did. I thanked him for his solicitude, but made it clear that I was fine, and as far as I was concerned, so was Greg, and begged him to leave it at that. I wasn't sure if Dave was relieved or still wary, but he wandered back to dance (with his wife) and I stayed at the table. Stew and Daryl soon joined me, and a little later so did a wet and flaccid Greg. Neither he nor I mentioned his erection and the four of us chatted about everything and nothing.

The night wore on with more music and wine but for me the spell was broken. I still felt annoyed with Dave. I secretly accused him of hypocrisy, and worse. Perhaps I had had too much wine.

By now it was past midnight and the party was coming to a close. The fire was doused, everyone pitched in to tidy up and soon we were all giving each other a goodnight kiss and hug.

Dave and Sabrina left to go back to their house and the rest of us went by torchlight to our respective tents. Greg said sorry to me one more time before going to his tent. Daryl told me to cheer up before he and Bruce and Steph entered their palatial tent, and I crawled sleepily into my own little sanctuary.

To understand what happened next, you need to know the layout of the campground. In the middle distance, about 20 metres from me, Stew and Barb had their camp. Beyond them was the tent of John and Moira and behind that, Greg's small solitary tent. Closest to me was the large tent shared by Bruce, Steph and their companion Daryl. I had assumed that being so large, they would naturally have their own rooms inside and a good deal of privacy.

As I settled down in my sleeping bag and the night grew quieter, I realised I could hear very distinctly voices coming from Bruce and Steph's tent. Voices that were heavy and excited.

I heard Steph saying, "Mmm give it to me."

"Suck me baby," came the reply. "I love it when you suck my cock."

Except the man's voice was not that of her hubby Bruce.. It was that of big Daryl.

I heard heavy breathing and wet, kissing sounds. Then Bruce's voice, trembling as he said. "Yes, sweety, suck him. You look so good doing that."

I moved as close as I could to the tent wall, straining to hear what was going on in their tent. There was little talk coming from them now, except for low moans and murmurings. But I could hear a rhythmic pounding begin and Steph's voice mewling incoherently. I had not masturbated since I could not remember when, but after a few minutes of listening to them, I could not help reaching down into my folds and gently circling my clitoral hood. My pussy was tingling and seemed to gape and beg me for something ... something I could not give it. Still, listening to the wet, slapping noises coming from the other tent, the stifled groans of three people having sex in a way I could not even begin to imagine, I rubbed myself frantically, biting my sleeping bag to prevent my own moans from escaping. I heard Steph whisper hoarsely, "Fuck, it's so big." and the heavy panting of the two men. My thighs were drenched with my own wetness and I began to shake. Steph seemed to be almost screaming now in her whisperings and I lost it completely. My orgasm rushed up upon me and my pussy shook beneath my finger. I had to bite my bottom lip to stop from crying out as the almost painful vibrations passed through my sensitive vagina.