This story belongs in the Mature section. It is about sex between older people who have had more life experiences than most. Mature stories can be so much more than one older, one younger. Hasn't anyone figured out us Grey Panthers still like to play? And for the story critics and detractors: please bear in mind that I only try to humbly share what happened one memorable evening. This might not be much of a story, either. But it is true.
*****
The naked woman next to me takes the five dice with her right hand, cups it with her left, and looks at me as she shakes them up. There's a sparkle in her hazel eyes and a wry smile as she watches me watching her tits shake up and down as she jostles the dice in her hand. I'm thinking that perhaps they're the size of baseballs, and the weight makes them slightly sag. I would love to heft one in my hand to see if I got the size right. "Come on, give me 250."she says dropping the dice on the table. Adding the pips quicker than her husband, me, and my wife put together, she breaks out joy: "I won, I won!", shaking her arms in the air, making her breasts bounce so much that nothing a mere mortal man can do but watch in awe. "But what did you win?" I asked as she high-fived us in succession, making my wife's naked tits bounce along with hers as they slapped palms. "I just won, that's all!" Sue said. "But I think you deserve to get something when you win, no?" I said, and then realized what I has just uttered could be taken so many ways.
It always amazes me how some little thing we do, a smile, a look, a gesture, moves the tumblers of a safe lock to line up and spring open a situation only hours before would have been undreamed of. But then, making new friends is always a good thing, is it not? Friendship, like attraction, is totally dependent on a similar set of tumblers where the voltage can occasionally strike with the force of lightning (with the more common bolts from the blue found in the attraction category), or, with friendship, where karma simply hums along like a well-oiled generator. Which is how things went from the start that night.
My name is Scott, my wife is Beth. We've been married 30 years, now. We're in our early 60's (Beth a year younger). Kids are grown, moved out, having kids of their own. Being close to retirement, we've been looking at enjoying ourselves more like all the other baby boomers. One of the things on our bucket list was to try a nudist camp. Try it we did, which not only got Beth's seal of approval, but an urging to go back on a regular basis.
"It's very freeing," she said.
Well it certainly freed up her libido, so who was I to argue?
We had been to Lost Lake Resort before. It was relatively close and the couples there made you feel like you were old friends. And we've found that discreetly, some can be more than friends, but that's another story (called
The Pool Party
). Although subtle, the men there certainly enjoyed the sights, and the women secretly enjoyed being the subject matter (not that they would admit to their own visual comparative analysis of the men's privates and whether we were showers or growers). But we were there to enjoy the sun, pool, hot tub, nature trails, and whatever the group had on their calendar for that weekend. After swimming naked for a bit, you wonder why you have to wear clothes to begin with.
We also enjoy camping. A six man tent (I have claustrophobia) is something you can stand up in and breathe easy. A queen size air mattress for Beth's sake and wa-la! If Beth's happy, EVERYone's happy! So having camped at Lost Lake several times before, we found our usual semi-secluded spot where the road turned off from the main campground. In pitching the tent, we noticed some folks camping down below us several spaces. As it turned out, it was Sue and Chuck, a couple we had met before who enjoyed nudity and the same amenities we did. They had a more Southern accent than we were used to, but they were country folks, having an honest disposition, hard, lean bodies, and a simple outlook on life. A little younger than us, but not by much. Certainly not the grey we sported (well, Beth is more a blonde/gray). Chuck might have had another inch on me in the Johnson department, and Sue might have had a tad more heft in the socially acceptable fatty tissue department, but overall it seemed like a pretty good fit, in more ways than one.
It was late afternoon, and you could almost hear the generator purr its low, rhythmic hum as we walked down to say 'hey', with me holding a jug of my homemade wine to smooth the introduction. "Hi!"s were exchanged, with the usual chat of who's been back to Lost Lake more often and how thing's 've been in the meantime. Since Sue and Chuck were sitting across from each other playing their game, I sat down next to Sue and Beth sat next to Chuck, with knowing smiles exchanged.
I lifted the jug: "Homemade wine, anyone? It's spiced apple."
Sue was already getting some mugs out with a "Sure, we'll try some!"
So as I'm pouring into four mugs Sue mentions "We're playing a dice game. You interested?"
I look at Beth and see approval in her eyes. "Well, it's kinda late if you want to try strip poker, but sure."
So they explained Farkle to us, going around a couple times for practice. "Now the object is to get to 5,000 points, and to win, it has to be 5,000 even. You can't go over. When you go over, you get points deducted. Then you get another chance at getting an even 5,000 the next time you roll." So we learned as we played, and got better as we went along, chatting and laughing and enjoying the late afternoon sun. The homemade wine was going down easy. I don't think anyone noticed, though.
"So did I tell you how bold Beth was coming here?" which got their attention as Chuck was rolling the dice. "Anxious to get her clothes off here, she takes her top off as soon as she gets in the car." Beth looks down, embarrassed for anyone to know about her exhibitionist streak.
So Chuck asks "Well it doesn't count if no one sees you! Did anyone notice that lovely set? I didn't hear about any accidents on the radio."
Beth has what I call million-dollar nipples since they're always erect, pointing out through whatever she wears, screaming to the world: "Suck me, please!" And I couldn't help but notice Chuck's eyes vacillating from Beth's eyes to her tits. Seems her nipples were not only speaking to him, but he was within earshot, and he seemed to be ready to do more than just chew on the thought .
"As a matter of fact," I said, "there was one trucker nice enough to blow his horn in appreciation."
"I was asleep, so it didn't count." Beth said.
Then Sue puts her mug of wine down. Reaches over and grabs my tit, shaking it for all it was worth: "What you need to do is get your hands under 'em and shake 'em like this and make
sure