Tawny Body Charmer

There is a beach about 17 miles northeast of here that is known to be pristine, quiet, secluded and peaceful; also, a little bit hard to get to. Parents never bring their children there, either. It's also an official (unofficial) but not-often patrolled Nude Beach - as in swimsuits optional. If your beach umbrella, chair, cooler and towel are north of the invisible county line, you should be all right according to prevailing city ordinances. In other words, if you think you're close to that line, keep on walking - no sense pushing the issue with authorities. It may be federally owned property, but county patrols cruising on ATVs also have authority there.

Getting arrested for indecent exposure is an expensive and damned inconvenient situation - not counting the fines. There's no pleading innocent in court, either. After all, you were caught literally with your pants down. They say the unwritten trick is to warn people in advance by placing a swimsuit nearby on a bush or in plain sight along the dunes. Of course, a second swimsuit would be handy to have to quickly slip into if you see a shiny badge reflection heading your way. At least have a towel handy. People have been known to have sex on a nude beach, but that is very risky business and not recommended.

I just wanted to go one time to be able to say I'd been to at least one nude beach in my life. Call it crossing off a Bucket List item. What the heck? If true freedom is "nothing left to lose", then lose your swimsuit on your beach chair towel and go for a walk along the beach - free balling, as it were. I hadn't made up my mind what I would do until I got there, but once there, my Puritanical, mid-western upbringing told me to enjoy the weather and the beach but keep your britches on. I decided that my freedom to keep my pants on was more important. Besides, I've felt "unimpressive" ever since 7th grade when our physical education teacher first made us take showers in the locker room after exercising. We weren't supposed to look around on the way to the showers, but everybody did despite the warnings from our teacher that, "Boys, we're all the same". Well, that was a myth, to be sure... even back then.

I did violate one of the unwritten rules of nude beaches in that I took a camera. I always take a camera. Might as well tell me to not take a cooler, towel and sunblock. However, pointing the lens at naked bodies at a nude beach is considered bad form and highly frowned upon. Never know where those images might wind-up, so it's a good idea to not be seen in front of a camera lens or behind one. True nudists couldn't care less, but other people definitely will. I had surfed the Internet before I went to get today's Surf Report to learn where the waves were good, tide info and extended weather so I knew today was a good day for Surf's Up. Nobody ever goes surfing in the nude because of the traction devices built on the top of a surfboard. It's almost like sandpaper. Who wants to rub their nipples or their wiener on sandpaper while paddling out and waiting on a good wave? Nobody, that's who. I thought I could get some nice surfing action while I was there catching some rays and enjoying the peace.

So, it was about 11:30 a.m. when I unpacked the car and made the trek down the required handicap accessible ramp over the dunes to the beach and made a left-hand turn up the beach toward the specially designated area. I was close to the county line, but I wanted to be extra sure... just in case. I dropped my stuff and took the 2-piece umbrella out of the case, selected just the right spot and started to screw it into the sand as far as I could. Then, I attached the top piece, locked it in and spread the umbrella out. I set up the matching beach chair placing the cooler at the base of the umbrella and unwrapped my camera and long lens from the beach towel.

Expensive cameras hate the beach sand, so I was very careful with it. Looking around, I was pretty much the only person on the beach, but people were up and walking around north of here, kicking up water and some walking together in waves up to their knees. The tide seemed to be coming in, so the waves would begin to get bigger. I moved my chair out from under the umbrella into the late morning sunrays, took off my shirt, locked the beach chair into the horizontal position and laid back to close my eyes for a breather and some warmth. The orchestra of waves and seagulls had my mind drifting in a short while to the point of being oblivious to my surroundings.

I woke up later and found a lot more people on the beach - some clothed, some not - some that maybe should have been, but I'm not here to judge. Life was good in the world until the Puritans came here. That's the story and I'm sticking to it. They were feeling free, and freedom is good. I stood up and rolled the legs down on my swimsuit and stretched my arms. I rolled them up before, so the tan-lines didn't exactly stop at the bottom of my suit. I'd have to roll over later to catch more rays on my back. As I stood there, I noticed a couple of surfers out among the incoming tide, then grabbed my camera, adjusted the shutter speed settings for catching action and made ready to shoot some sports action. I admired their skills in wave riding. I'd only prior experience was on a boogie board off the California shore way back when, in my twenties. Note to self: Swallowing too much salt water is not good for you.

Keeping both eyes open to judge the overall scene and be ready to frame the camera for the best shot, I saw a nicely shaped woman walking along the beach wearing what looked like was a knitted or crocheted bikini in rainbow colored material. Geez, I hadn't seen one of those in ages, but she filled it out and wore it well. My camera was set for high-speed sports, so I snapped-off about 10 shots in the next three seconds as she strutted along the beach, then trained my camera on the surfer who had just caught a wave and was riding in. Hearing the noise of my camera shutter, the woman immediately changed her walking direction and came right for me. I thought I was about to be verbally and severely chastised. I kept shooting the surfer as she drew closer.

"Hello", I struggled.

"Hi." she was smiling. "I didn't get in your shot, did I?"

"Nope. Not at all. I'm from the Midwest and we don't do much surfing there. Thought I'd get some sports pictures while I'm down here. I can take some pictures of you, if you like. It used to be my career."

"Not today. I just came down to the beach to tan a little bit. My hair is a mess, and I don't have a thing to wear." She smiled back.

"Girls always say that. I used to shoot glamor photography, and all my models said that. You look fine - great, actually. I love your swimsuit, too. It's unique. Did you buy it, or did you make it yourself?"

"Actually, my aunt made it for me. I gave her one of my other swimsuits that fit me well and she used it as a pattern. I wanted the design in the weave to be a rather loose weave with these large holes." With that, she put her finger inside the left breast side of her bra top and poked her little finger through one of the holes. "See?"

"Uh, yes, I see. Very nice. I suppose that makes for a more air-cooled and more comfortable suit on hot days of sunbathing, too. Huh?"

"It does more than that." She reached around her back and untied the strings which held her top on and pulled the entire top up over her head, fully exposing her pendulous and attractive breasts. "See? My tan lines?"

I tried not to act surprised, but by enlarged eyeballs betrayed me - so did a certain stirring in my own swimsuit. Her breasts were spectacularly perfect - fully weighted, conically rounded and pointed with pink, puffy nipples that reminded me of a pink-colored condom tip before rolling it on. Her nipples begged at my lips, but I dare not act on that thought. "What tan lines?" I kidded. She had a non-defined white line around where the bikini top was during her tanning session, but even more interesting was her tan in places where the design holes in her suit allowed sunlight through. It was like a camouflage pattern, almost a leopard print tan. As I continued to admire her luscious breasts and her honesty, I wondered where this encounter would go next. "Are you going to even-out your tan or leave that design on your breasts?" I felt silly even asking, but she was obviously proud of her breasts. She should be.

"No, I'm going to leave them like this for a while. I kinda like it. Do you think it's sexy?" With that, she untied the strings at her hips and pulled off her bikini bottoms and bent over to show me her backside. "Check out my butt? Pretty cool, huh?"

The suntan pattern on her butt was similar to her breasts, all right, but I responded to the perfect heart shape of her sweet little ass. "Very nice, indeed. What an interesting idea for non-permanent body art. Very interesting."

She offered me a good long look - which I took advantage of before she straightened up and turned around giving me the total effect of her front side too. Her eyes were locked onto mine. This was a test to see if I were paying attention to her or to her body. As a former model photographer, this was a lesson I learned long ago. I looked directly into her soft grey-green eyes which were very easy to look at. The tiny creases at their corners indicated that she smiled a lot and often. She was no teeny bopper, but she looked much younger than she probably was. I quit guessing women's ages a long time ago. She was enjoying who she was and that was the only important thing. Besides, she was having fun flirting. I was having fun flirting back.

"So, do you think you might think about tanning only the string lines and leaving the pattern as-is. That might add a little "how did she do that" mystery to your backless dress fashions. At this, I was assuming how nice she might look in a fashionable dress. It was a force of habit from my former photography work. She seemed to like the idea.

"Hey, my towel is way down the beach. Would you mind if I stayed here with you? You seem nice and comfortable to be around." At first, I felt a little weird as the word "comfortable" - as in old pair of house slippers or stretch yoga pants. I would rather be seen as a sex object, but who am I kidding? I took it that she didn't feel threatened in any way by being around me. I've always been that way with people. In my older career, people would tell me things they wouldn't share with their own family. The mental game was calming my sexual tension.

"Sure, make yourself at home. Can I make you a frosty beverage? I have some frozen Pina Colada prepared in my little cooler here. Might even have and extra plastic cup. No glassware on the beach, you know."

"You're going to ply my naked body with alcohol, now? You nasty man." She smiled. She sat on my beach blanket and helped herself to my SPF-15 sunscreen spray and rubbed it into the back of her legs and as far as she could reach on her shoulders.

"Just one won't hurt. It's mostly fruit juices and tastes refreshing since it's chilled." I grinned.

"Sure. I'll take a sample."

I fixed her a half-cup and I poured myself a taller one. She tasted it and smiled before downing the entire contents and thrusting the cup back to me for a refill.

"Would you like a half-cup or a full one like mine?"

"Fill me up, buttercup. After that, would you spray this stuff on my back? I'm gonna take you up on the tanning idea. Those tiny string lines just have to go."

"Sure. Here's your drink." She drank half of it down like she was thirsty, then laid her head down on the beach towel after pushing some sand underneath it to make a pillow. I went ahead and finished my drink before I started with the sunscreen. If I didn't, I'd waste it in the sand with slippery fingers trying to nurse it little by little. I sprayed the tanning lotion on her back and slowly spread it around while pinching and massaging her muscles and skin at the same time. Her skin was so very smooth, and I kept gazing at her leopard-printed tushy, which started turning me on again the longer I rubbed her skin. I did a quick touch-up on the backs of her legs that she previously missed and took my time massaging around her upper thighs under her butt cheeks. She moaned a little, obviously feeling good and approved the action. Then, I took the hand towel I brought to wipe the oil off my hands before I touched my iPod or my e-reader and covered her lovely tushy so the pattern wouldn't be ruined in the sunlight.

She was quiet and I let her be. I fixed myself another drink and sat in the beach chair until my eyelids drooped a little. I decided to lay down in the sand under the beach umbrella and catch some rays myself. It wasn't long before I fell asleep, too.

I woke up feeling great pleasure in my swimsuit area. This was a nude beach, but feeling sexual pleasure is strictly forbidden. She had laid her head down on my stomach and keeping an eye on the horizon for spectators, she had pulled down the front of my suit and her lips were busy teasing, tasting and sucking the head of my cock. I could feel it growing between her lips, but I played at being still asleep. A sudden movement would draw attention and, frankly, spoil the mood. She was very skilled with her lips, tongue and suction and I've never felt better in that regard. The added thrill of public exposure only added to the excitement and pleasure.

She saw someone coming and moved her face up my stomach, pulling my dark colored swimsuit up over my erection and closed her eyes as if she were asleep there using my stomach as a pillow. From a distance, no one could obviously see my hardness. She was resting on her side, so the beach strollers walked on by, but she showed them her dark blond Brazilian landing strip bush and lovely breasts in the pose.

After they passed by, she resumed her lip actions as I bottled-up my moans. Within a short time, with her hard work on my hardness, she had finished me off and sucked up all the evidence and swallowed me. The tension in my balls and thigh muscles relaxed as she pulled my swimsuit back up over my now shrinking cock. Slowly, she dragged her long, curly blond hair up my stomach and chest and planted a nice, open-mouth kiss on my lips giving me a taste of myself and nestled herself in my shoulder. I returned the effort, but my brain was still circling the airport. The sun was going down behind the dunes and I was alone on the beach. Couple by couple and person by person, the time had come to vacate the beach. It closes at six and the park rangers would be around soon.

When I opened my eyes, the morning sun was shining in through the door window of my camping trailer. In the last couple of days, I had been visiting all the Internet websites relative to visiting nude beaches. I had read all the unwritten rules and codes of conduct and was planning to visit the local nude beach today since I'd never been to one before. I didn't want to seem or feel out of place. I also didn't want to be intrusive by wrong action. I guess all the reading had run through my brain processors and created a fantasy for myself. Still, the dream was so real, detailed and in color that I wondered, 'Could this be a premonition of things to come?'

I skipped my morning coffee, packed a lunch and stuffed my necessaries into my beach bag before taking shower. I was sure to use double soap on my cock and balls just in case. I put my swimsuit on and a t-shirt from the local surf shop and grabbed my car keys and headed for the beach. Time will surely tell something... one way or another. For certain, this would be an interesting day all the same.

~The End~

(Word Count 2,968)