This is the second chapter of a series. While the author hopes that this story can stand on its own, it will be much easier to follow if you have read the first chapter, titled "The Gulf Coast Move."
This story draws on some real experiences but is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person or entity is coincidental and unintentional. As a work of fiction, this story and this series should not be taken as depicting the actual tolerance of public nudity or public sexual conduct in Florida or any other jurisdiction. Additionally, readers should remember that they are reading this story on a website devoted to erotica. The sexual conduct depicted here is not necessarily representative of how most nudists/naturists behave.
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It was late on Sunday morning, a week after Jason Woods, our daughter's sort of boyfriend, had gone back to Boston. Nude, I stepped from the kitchen onto the landing at the top of the steps leading down to our pool and patio. It was a perfectly clear Southwest Florida day. The sun was hot on my bare skin, but that was mitigated by a breeze off the Gulf. Looking over the dunes that screened our pool from the beach, I could see several boats. Fishermen I assumed.
Carol and Gwen were already out by the pool. Carol had just stood up from her lounge chair. Although Carol and I had been together since undergraduate school about 30 years ago, I always got a thrill looking at her. To me, she always looked perfect. The allover tan she had acquired since we'd moved to Florida only enhanced her beauty. She looked up at me and smiled.
Gwen, our 19-year-old daughter, was on her back on a lounge chair a couple of feet away from her mother, offering her bare body to the sun. To me, Gwen always suffered a bit by comparison to her mother. Unfortunately, I think that some of my genes had snuck into Gwen's DNA. She had my broader shoulders and had gotten some of my bigger chest, hips, and thighs. Still, Gwen was a very lovely young woman. Looking down the steps at my nude wife and daughter and then out at the Gulf a few yards beyond them, I thought that life just didn't get any better than this.
I called down to the women, "Anyone want juice?" I had just squeezed a pitcher of orange juice before I came outside. Both women answered affirmatively. I went back inside and poured two glasses of juice, adding a bit of ice to keep them cooler in the sun, and put the glasses on a tray. Trying to imitate a butler, I walked up to Carol, bowed slightly, extended the tray, and said, "Your juice MiLady." Carol smiled indulgently and took a glass.
I walked over to where Gwen was lying and bent enough so that she could reach the tray without sitting up. Gwen took the glass from the tray, ran her eyes over me, smiled, and said "Thanks Dad."
As I put the tray on a patio table, Carol said, "Harry, you'd best get sunscreen on. You know that you burn quickly." She was right. I do burn quickly, and I do know that.
"Would you do me, Dear?" I asked.
Carol smiled, picked up a bottle of sunscreen from the table beside her lounger and walked over. I stood facing Gwen while Carol applied sunscreen to the back of my body. She was thorough, even getting between my ass cheeks. When she finished my back side, Carol stepped around in front of me. She worked sunscreen into my face, neck, chest, and abdomen before kneeling to work on my feet and legs. She worked up my legs. When she got to my dick and balls, she looked up at me and smiled, "Need to take extra care here," she said, "so that these are useable when I need them." She was very thorough with my dick, getting me semi-hard in the process. Then she stepped away revealing me to Gwen.
Gwen had been watching us. When Carol stepped away, Gwen took a long look at my dick, which was pointing at her, parallel to the ground. "Dad, you know that you really do have an attractive dick," Gwen said.
I wasn't sure how I felt about Gwen's comment. Carol immediately replied, "Yes, he does, and it's all mine."
"Yours and Kirsten's," Gwen responded.
Carol chuckled. "I stand corrected. Mine and Kirsten's"
"Hey," Gwen said, "Do you guys want to go skinny dipping with Marty and Lisa tomorrow? They're both off tomorrow. Lisa called me on Friday and suggested that I invite you. I just forgot to mention it."
Carol looked at me. We had been able to retire at relatively young ages, so Monday was just another free day for us. I shrugged. To Gwen, Carol said, "Sure. When and where?"
"They'd like us to meet them between 9:00 and 9:30 in the morning," Gwen replied. "Marty uses her dad's boat and launches it from a marina on the mainland. I don't remember the name, but I can get us there. Let's leave by 8:00 just to be safe."
"That works," Carol said.
Ordinarily, our neighbor Kirsten Woods spent the night with Carol and me, and we didn't get up quite that early. However, her husband Ian left on Monday mornings to spend the workweek in Tampa where his business was based. Kirsten and Ian often spent Sunday night together by themselves and had told us that they intended to that night. Being on the road by 8:00 a.m. the next morning would be no problem.
Gwen did successfully direct us to the marina. With Monday morning traffic, it took longer than she had estimated. We pulled into the marina about 9:15. We didn't have to look hard to find the very athletic-looking African American woman standing by a largeish boat on a trailer at the boat ramp. The woman was Gwen's and Jason's friend Marty Robinson. Marty was, probably, in her late 20's or early 30's. She was a deputy in the county sheriff's marine patrol. I wondered silently how a deputy sheriff could afford such a nice-looking boat along with the trailer it was on and the SUV that was pulling it.
As if reading my mind, Marty smiled and said, "This whole rig is my Dad's. He's got a construction company and is in the office or on jobsites on Mondays, so he lets me use it."
As Marty said that, a younger woman came around from the other side of the boat. I recognized her as Lisa Pheltz, the other of Gwen's and Jason's skinny-dipping buddies. I knew that Lisa was also a marine patrol deputy.
We watched as Marty and Lisa adroitly launched the boat. Marty took the helm of the boat while Lisa parked the SUV and trailer. Marty maneuvered the boat next to a pier alongside the boat ramp and said, "Get aboard." Carol, Gwen, and I had only to step from the pier into the boat. Lisa was close behind.
After Mary backed us away from the boat ramp a little way into the basin, she put the boat into neutral. She unbuttoned her shorts, pushed them down, and kicked them away with her foot. She was wearing a bright red one-piece that was cut very high on her hips, disclosing the muscular hips and legs of a sprinter. I later learned that Marty had been a sprinter in college. Looking to my left, I noticed that Lisa had also removed her shorts. Lisa was wearing a one-piece that was almost flesh-tone. Seen from a distance, you would probably think that she was naked. Lisa was slender and less muscular and busty than Marty. Despite her tan, Lisa's blonde hair suggested a very fair complexion.