Bastille Day

She was fondling my soft cock. I fondled her breast in return - just to respond. We hadn't heard them use the toilet, then heard them snickering. Anna snorted and murmured:

"They must be going in the shower."

"Um-hmm."

Her fingers fondled me a little more suggestively, and she murmured:

"Then they can take a shower."

"Um-hmm," I agreed.

Her hand was now obviously trying to make my cock respond, but it wasn't; I had just come as good as I could. That didn't discourage her. She began to move down over me, murmuring:

"Until they come back - before - I want to taste you."

"Good luck, no promises."

"You will; Papa can again."

As she straddled me, we heard the shower start. Were they wondering what we could be doing? Her pussy descended on my mouth, as she sucked my soft cock into hers. I wasn't sure I liked her comparison with her father, but if he could ...? I liked discovering that her pussy was oozing moisture from before. If she wanted to taste me, she could have found it with her fingers. At least, it confirmed that I had come as much as it had felt, but that wasn't assuring that I could again.

But it tasted good, arousing, and I loved to lick her pussy. If you think I can, Anna, I hope so, I thought, and I want you to, too.

I hugged her hips, and her hands slipped under mine. Before my cock was stiff again, she moistened a finger in her mouth, and then it was in my asshole. One of mine slipped into her slippery pussy and then into hers. Did she do that with her dad; did he, with her?

My cock gave her more to suck and lick. Even if I didn't come, what she was doing felt very good, and she was bobbing her head and fingering more eagerly than I remembered. No, she was always delightfully eager, but never had seemed in such a hurry to taste me. I hope that she would get to. I certainly would get to taste her; women - she - had no problem about coming again.

We both did all we could. Her head was bobbing up and down, fucking my cock, when her hips began to twitch. Then she groaned, and her head was still, as her orgasm overcame her. I won, I thought, as her pussy wet my face.

It wasn't the most intense orgasm I had given her that way. She hardly waited to recover. After a deep breath, her stomach pressing down on mine, her head started to bob again, it seemed even more aggressively than before; she wanted to taste me now. Not just faster, but deeper, the head of my cock was rubbing up and down - in and out? - against her pallet, past the rough surface of it.

She gave a gagging noise, but continued. God, did she want to try to swallow it? She had said that she wanted to the first day. Even deeper! Another gagging sound. It couldn't go deeper without it getting in her throat!

She drew her head up, just holding it, and took another deep breath, and then another, and then lowered her head, slowly, deliberately. The head of my cock slid over her rough pallet and then on the smooth. Still, she continued to lower her head, her lips hardly touching my shaft. She wanted to! I heard a noise from her throat, and then the head of my cock was in the tightest place it had ever been. Tighter than popping a cherry? Hadn't done that. Oooh! Now the tightness past it, in my groove! My cock tried to twitch. It felt her throaty moan in response. Had to try to twitch again.

She raised her head, and I felt the tightness catch on the ridge of my head and then slip over it. She drew her head further up and caught her breath, nodding. After another deep breath, she lowered her head again, again deliberately, but not so slowly, and my cock popped back into her throat.

"Oh, shit!! She was really doing it, holding my twitching cock deep in her throat! And taking a breath again with it there! Did she want me to come in her throat? Couldn't taste me that way, but I was going to, if she kept it there much longer.

She drew her head up. I managed to control my orgasm until she had taken another deep breath and began to suck. But then! If I had had any doubts about being able to come again, they were dispelled by the strong spurts of my orgasm, and she received them with pleased-sounding moans.

I was almost as proud of her success as she had to have been. I must have grunted as I came. Now I returned her pleased moans and rubbed her back, my hands sliding down and holding her breasts. She nodded with my cock still in her mouth, slavering my semen around it. Then she sucked gently and raised her head, her lips closed around my cock. It slipped out. She chuckled softly. I imagined that she was still savoring it, and then raised her head further, probably swallowing. She chuckled again and murmured:

"I did it! And you did, too."

"You sure did!"

It was Marge's voice! We both looked over and saw that she and Sans were standing near the bathroom door. She was holding his stiff cock, and it looked like he had his hand under her ass with his fingers on her pussy. We all exchanged wry grins, Anna and me, too. We hadn't expected that we were being observed, but it looked like they had enjoyed watching, and Anna's successful experiment certainly deserved an audience. She snorted and repeated:

"I did it. Told him last week that I wanted to try."

She glanced back and gave me a smile, adding:

"Thanks for letting me."

"Any time!" I replied.

We all laughed. Then Marge remarked:

"Don't know if I want to try that, but it must have been good, ... at least for him."

"It was," I agreed.

Sans nodded, giving Anna a smile and agreeing:

"I bet it was."

Anna returned his smile and replied:

"Now that I know I can, you'll find out."

"Oooh! When did you decide that you wanted to?" he asked.

Anna grinned, apparently liking the being the center of interest, and explained:

"Of course, I had heard about it, but couldn't imagine that it could be good. And then seen videos, but they all looked like something only porn stars did. But after last summer, hearing about Literotica - read too many stories - then I was curious and found a 'how-to' article: 'Cocksucking for dummies.' That didn't tell me how to, but all the comments by women made it clear that not just porn stars did it, and many gave tips about how to. If they could, if they wanted to, and their men certainly enjoyed it .... So I had to try it. Didn't want to experiment with my Dad."

We nodded, smiling in appreciation for her explanation. I remarked:

"She just told me that she wanted to taste me again."

"Oh, I did that too. He wasn't sure I could."

She licked her lips with a grin. Sans smirked down at Marge and replied:

"We tasted each other, too, also new for me, but, well, I guess you know how."

Marge returned his smirk with a nod. Anna and I exchanged our own smirks, and she said:

I really have to go now. We will too."

I nodded, and we all chuckled. She rolled off me, towards them and then on to the edge of the bed, landing on her feet. I scrambled after her, giving the others a grin as I followed her to the bathroom. In the shower, she grinned down at me as I dropped to my knees, and then let her stream flow. She teased me by shifting her hips from side to side, her stream sweeping back and forth, until I grasped them and caught it close to her pussy.

It didn't taste like a glass of juice before breakfast, but I wanted to taste anything that came from her pussy - well, not that, but both of them seemed to have been lucky that their periods didn't upset our vacation. She wanted my stream all over her body and face before she guided it in her mouth, finishing with my cock in it, licking and sucking for a moment, as she looked up at me with smiling eyes. I helped her stand up and we washed each other. I ventured to use Sans razor to shave, and then we dried ourselves with the moist towels they had used.

While we were, we glanced out and saw that they were fucking. We had expected something, but not that she was sitting on his lap, he sitting astride the desk chair, both of them with their hands down behind the other's hips. Anna smirked and murmured:

"Also a good idea."

"Like they did that first morning together," I suggested."

"I hope so. She didn't tell us."

We agreed to stay in the bathroom until they were finished. I sat on the toilet lid and she sat across my thighs where we could watch them. If it had taken more than a minute or two before we saw their good mutual orgasm, we might have started thinking about doing more ourselves; Anna's hand was between her thighs, playing with my cock and balls, and I was fondling her breasts, her nipples responding better than my cock was.

As they were recovering, they both looked around to see where we were, smiling at us and then at each other. I patted Anna's bottom and urged her to stand up, and we joined them. When I raised my eyebrows questioningly, Marge snorted and said:

"His idea, like he sometimes does with his daughter."

He smiled wryly and added:

"Her idea, before I knew she had so much experience. Not going to complain now."

"Hm-hmm! Daughters can be a pleasant surprise," Anna replied with a grin.

"They sure can be!" he agreed, returning her grin.

We all chuckled, and Marge stood up, letting him back off the chair, his cock still swollen. Marge, with a wry expression, held her pussy lips closed. As they came towards us, we left the bathroom to let them wash.

While we straightened up the bed, we noticed that it was overcast and that it was cooler than the previous mornings. They joined us, all of us smirking slightly, and remarked the same about the weather. Sans turned to his computer and found the weather report for the area: 70% possibility of rain. Marge remarked:

"Can't expect sun every day for two weeks."

"Good reason to stay in bed all day," Anna remarked with a grin.

The three of us snorted with wry smiles. Sans replied:

"Just to keep warm and plan what we can do tomorrow, when the weather should be better."

Anna nodded with a slightly apologetic expression for her too suggestive remark. I remarked:

"Then at our place. Maybe we can even put on clothes, if it is too cool."

Marge nodded with a smile, Anna feigned a frown, then also smiling. Sans agreed, saying that he would bring his laptop and reminding us to find our wineglasses. He also found his - and a wine bottle - and we left his room. Outside, it was even cooler. We hurried to our place to leave our things and then joined the others going to breakfast, another short walk.

Some people had put on clothes. Others hadn't; all the women's nipples looking aroused, and the men's cocks, a lot smaller than they were most of the time - mine and Sans' too, of course. Marge noticed my looking and gave me a nudge, remarking softly:

"Like you'd never seen so many aroused women before; don't stare."

"Was I?"

"Sure looked like it. Mine too."

"Um-hmm, nice."

"And mine,"Anna agreed, then adding in a whisper:

"You - both of you; you too, Marge - should suck them more often."

Sans snorted and replied:

"I sucked hers this morning; just remind me."

Marge gave him a smile, nodding, and we all chuckled. I whispered:

"I'll try not to forget."

Even though we had sort of agreed that Anna's suggestion about staying in bed all day didn't have to include doing anything, apparently we all were quite comfortable about talking about it. In this mood, we joined the lines at the breakfast buffet. Others from our group beckoned for us to join them.

They were still congratulating each other about the success of our Nude Day flash mob. For us, someone told again that on the website of "l'Equipe," the French daily sports newspaper, there were photos of us, one showing the resort's bus and one of the banners: "just from the waist up, of course, but plenty of boobs, and a shot from behind, showing bottoms, to confirm that we really had been nude."

We and everyone else promised to look at the website. Sans said that he would see if there was mention of the flash mob in other papers and tell people at lunch. Pleased with ourselves, we had a very cheerful breakfast. When we finished, Sans said that he would tell the resort management and join us later.

Back in our room, he said that the resort already knew about the pictures and was very pleased that the photo showing its name on the bus had appeared. He then turned on his laptop, and we crowded behind him. After a few moments stooping over him, I put the other chair behind his and invited Marge and Anna to sit on my thighs. Nice, warmer, being so close with my arms around them and theirs around my shoulders.

Sans found that website and the pictures, and then that of the magazine that had published the topless photos of Princess Catherine. More photos, this time with a black strip covering midriffs. He translated the brief text, which explained that in USA July 14 was a national celebration of nudity. We all chuckled at this simplification.

A couple of the more serious papers didn't mention us, but a couple of others did. He moved on to the British tabloids. When we saw that "The Sun" and "Daily Mirror" had the same photos showing bare breasts - obviously chosen for their size - Anna asked him to find "Bildzeitung," the German tabloid, more of the same. I noticed that she was rubbing his chest.

He turned his head to her and asked:

"Enough?"

"Um-hmm, for me. You two can check the US papers. Sans nodded, and Marge and I just nodded. They stood up and moved away. We didn't watch them, as I moved to the chair Sans had been sitting on, gesturing for Marge to sit on both my thighs. She took control of the laptop, finding the website of "USA Today." The photos were more discreet, but the explanation of Nude Day was more correct, perhaps titillating enough for most readers.

She thought the "San Francisco Chronicle" might be a paper that would mention us, but it didn't. Nor did the "New York Times." A nude flash mop was apparently not "all the news that's fit to print." Marge murmured:

"Either not news, or not fit to print."

"Um-hmm, but saves us from having to explain to everyone we know what we were doing here."

"Hm-hmm! That would be the least of what we had to explain."

We looked back at the bed. As expected, Sans and Anna had slipped under the covers, but they weren't doing anything. She was lying with her head on his shoulder and her thigh on his. Oh, her hand was obviously down between his thighs, but still. I assumed that she was just holding his balls. Where else should she put her hand?

Marge snorted softly. My hands were resting on her thighs. She drew one closer to her pussy. I moved it a little closer, and she nodded, but then whispered:

"Not really, if they aren't."

"Um-hmm," I agreed, but slid my other hand up and held her breast.

She nodded again, but murmured:

"Still, not really. Other bed."

She turned off the laptop, and we stood up. Sans and Anna had left space on the bed for us to join them, but we slipped under covers of the single bed, lying like they were. When Marge's fingers cupped around my balls, fondling them gently for a moment, I wondered if we really wouldn't, but her fingers stilled, and we just lay there, now more aware of sound of the rain and wind and then letting it lull us to sleep.

What woke us up? What woke me up? What woke Sans up? He murmured:

"I think the rain has passed."

But it could have Marge's fingers gently moving my balls again, maybe before he spoke. Or had he been awakened by Anna's fondling his balls? A very nice way to be awakened! Whatever? The sound of the wind and rain had disappeared. I felt more than heard Marge's soft hum of agreement to what he had said. Her fingers seemed more aware of where they were. I reached over and rubbed the back of my fingers on the breast that was resting on my side. She snorted softly and held my balls a little more firmly.

Were we going to do something? Sans had the same question, murmuring to Anna:

"You said we didn't have to do anything."

"We don't. My fingers just didn't know."

"Hm-hmm! Nor mine," Marge replied, but her fingers very knowingly massaged my balls.

We all chuckled, then Anna, who was facing the window, remarked brightly:

"Oh, the sun is shining now."

We all turned our heads to look; it was. Apparently we were all agreed that we weren't going to do anything, settled when Anna added:

"I have to go to the bathroom, anyway."

As usual, then we all felt that we did, following her there. While she and Marge used the toilet, both Sans and I hung our cocks over the edge of the washbasin. They were a little longer than usual from the fondling. We smirked at each other in the mirror as our streams started. I snorted and murmured:

"But I'm not going to take a shower with you."

"Hmm! That's good, saved me from saying it."

We heard a snicker behind us, and Marge remarked:

"But you both were thinking about it."

We exchanged wry smiles in the mirror and shook our cocks, taking turns rinsing them - each his own - with a handful of water from the spout. He said that it would probably be warmer outside, so we went out. It was, and we took a walk to areas of the resort that we hadn't seen, until it was time for lunch.

During lunch, others from our group suggested that we join them during the afternoon. When one of them, who had also been at Cap d'Agde, added: "unless you have something better to do," we replied, of course, that we did not, but the remark suggested that others had ideas about what we might think was something better to do.

We did, but spent the rest of the day with them, and enjoyed ourselves. I admitted to myself that it was fun seeing other bare breasts - and also shaved pussies. At nudest resorts, one isn't supposed stare - doesn't - but an occasional glance ...

And I wasn't the only one glancing. When we had parted from the others before dinner, Anna remarked softly:

"Did you see his cock? Does it get even that much bigger, like both of yours?"

We all knew the cock she was referring to; it looked about as thick as mine when I was aroused, but he hadn't been. Marge snorted and replied:

"I hope not; it wouldn't fit, ... well, if it did, I wouldn't want it to try to, ... either way."

Anna nodded. Sans and I exchanged glances. I had had the same question, was pleased with Marge's remark. Anna agreed:

"I hope not, too, for her."

We all nodded, exchanging smiles. Sans suggested that he fetch a bottle of wine for after dinner, and we accompanied him to his place and then to ours. On the way to dinner, he suggested that we could have another outing to Avignon the next day, mentioning that we hadn't seen all the sights. We agreed, of course, and I insisted on treating for lunch. Sans and Marge nodded with smiles. Anna also nodded, but muttered:

"No picnic."

She chuckled with us, however. Sans grinned and replied:

"Just no 'picnic.' Even if we stay till the museums close, the drive back won't take till dinnertime."

She returned his grin. Marge and I exchanged mild smirks, and we continued our way to the restaurant, agreeing to separate to avoid too much speculation about ourselves.

Marge and Anna joined some people speaking German. Sans and I introduced ourselves to two older English couples, who were pleased to have new company. They had been surprised by the flash mop. They admitted that their friends and families didn't know that they were nudists, that they had met that way many years before. One of the ladies - she looked like a lady - glanced at the other woman, who also looked like a lady, with a blush and admitted softly:

"We weren't sure which one we liked better."

The men nodded and grinned - no, gentlemen would have only smiled. The other woman/lady did grin, nodding, and replied softly: