My Naked Day At The Beach

My Naked Day at the Beach

Friends steal a young man's clothes

by G. Lawrence

This is an absurdist romp written for Literotica. It's intended to be fun, not real life. It's a fantasy. There is nudity and mild sex. All of the characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Mark Jefferson and his best friend Dwight Hughes walked up from the sandy beach to the wide boardwalk, finding it crowded on a blue summer day. The Evil Clown Restaurant was only a few steps away. They walked past surf shops, burger joints, souvenir stores, and rowdy bars. Joggers, skateboarders, and bicyclists kept the area active. Scores of young women in skimpy bikinis were hard to miss.

"We're right on time for dinner," Dwight said, checking his watch. "Howie and George should have a booth for us. Are you sure you don't want your birthday mentioned?"

"Definitely not," Jeff answered.

"Why? You've had birthdays before."

"I'm 24 now with a graduate degree in communications, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Parttime work doing cheesy ads for a porn website."

"What you need is a kick in the butt. Something exciting to get the juices going," Dwight recommended. "Ready for fun later?"

"Later?"

"They're having fireworks over the water tonight, and a live concert in the gazebo," Dwight said. "The college is contributing a marching band and cheerleaders."

"That should be fun," Mark softly agreed.

The guys were dressed for the warm beach weather, swim trunks, t-shirts, and sandals. Dwight was carrying their duffel bag with towels and suntan lotion. The restaurant was a combination circus and haunted house, decorated with lions, elephants, skeletons, and zombies. Fake spiderwebs filled the corners with brightly painted monsters looming ready to attack unsuspecting guests. The most popular item on the menu was cold beer.

"There they are," Dwight said, waving at two young men in their mid-20s occupying a corner booth in the back.

Mark went forward to say hello. Just as he reached the booth, there was a sudden motion. On his waistband. Before he knew it, his swimming trunks had been pulled down to his ankles! He was not wearing underwear. Dwight gave him a push, causing Mark to stumble forward and grab the table for support. Dwight yanked on the trunks again. Mark fell on his knees. In mere seconds, his pants had been torn off and the sandals went with them.

"Dwight! What the fuck?" Mark said, crawling into the booth before anyone saw his bare tush. Dwight was laughing, waving the swimming trunks in victory. When their friends realized what had happened, they were laughing, too.

"This isn't funny. Give me my pants back," Mark insisted.

"We can talk about it," Dwight said, taking a seat on an outside chair. George moved to a chair, too, leaving Mark and Howie on the padded bench. "But first, we need food and booze."

Dwight waved for the waiter. The tall bald man in a white apron walked over, taking no special notice of his half-naked customer, and took orders for beer and buffalo wings. Mark waited impatiently, feeling his bare butt rubbing on the imitation leather seat. A pitcher of Squirrel Nut beer arrived before the food.

"Buddy, you are in an awkward position," Dwight said as he filled four tall glasses. "I don't want to be mean, so I'll make you a deal. Give me your t-shirt, and after five minutes of letting you sweat, I'll give your trunks back."

"I'm not dumb enough to believe that," Mark replied. "An even switch. The shirt for my pants at the same time."

"What fun would that be?" Dwight asked.

"I can pull the shirt down and walk out, but I'd rather have my pants," Mark replied. Dwight looked to his companions.

"What do you think?" he said.

"Give him his pants," Howie grouched.

"Really?" Dwight questioned in disappointment.

"It's too hot to fight over," Howie replied.

"Thanks, Howie, I knew you'd be on my side," Mark appreciated.

"Okay, okay. What a spoil sport," Dwight conceded, holding up the trunks. "But I'll hold on to your wallet for a while."

"Fine, you can pay for dinner," Mark conceded. He slowly peeled off his Spiderman t-shirt, holding it back until his trunks were within reach. Dwight offered the exchange, dangling the trunks before him, drew back, and then offered again, smiling each time. Nearby diners began to take notice of the unusual behavior, though with Mark partially hidden by the table, it was hard to know what they were doing.

"Quit teasing," Mark complained, watching Dwight's eyes. They had been best friends since the 5th grade. He could sense the mischievous clues.

"Okay, for real this time," Dwight said, the trunks in one hand, the other hand reaching for the elusive t-shirt. The trunks were almost in Mark's reach, but not quite. He leaned forward.

Suddenly, the t-shirt was torn from Mark's grasp! By Howie! He laughed and moved out of the booth, taking an outside seat in the third chair.

"Howie! Damn it!" Mark cursed, now sitting alone in the booth totally naked. Only the table prevented the entire restaurant from seeing him. "Come on guys, this isn't funny."

"I think it's funny," Dwight said, glad to see the buffalo wings arrive. The waiter did a doubletake but said nothing.

"It's really funny," George agreed.

"I think it's hilarious," Howie chimed in, handing the stolen t-shirt to Dwight.

"What do you want?" Mark plaintively asked.

"I want to eat," Dwight said. "Then we will give you a challenge. A contest to get your clothes back, if you can. I have your wallet and phone in my bag, so it's not like you have anything to negotiate with. And speaking of phones."

Dwight raised his phone and took a photo as Mark ducked down, hands pressed over his chest.

"No! No pictures," Mark objected.

"Don't worry, we don't have pictures of your dick," George said. "Not yet."

"Please, you've had your fun. Give my clothes back," Mark begged.

"I don't know," Dwight answered. "What do you think, guys? Have we had our fun?"

"I'm sorry, Mark, but watching you squirming over there is the most fun I've had in a long time," Howie said.

"Let's talk about his clothes again after the fireworks show," George suggested.

They were eating the buffalo wings, swishing them in the sauces, when Howie perked up.

"Look, it's my co-workers from the real estate office, Cathy and Donna," he said. "Girls! Girls, come over here and join us."

"No, Howie, no," Mark pleaded, nearly crawling under the table. He wondered if he should make a dash for the door. But go where? Where would he hide on a crowded boardwalk?

The young women were very pretty, Cathy with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. Donna's silky shoulder-length black hair set off her deep brown eyes. They were attired in loose summer dresses and floppy straw hats.

"Hi, Howie. Who are your friends?" Cathy asked, sliding into the booth while Donna squeezed in on the other side. There was a pause as the women suddenly looked down.

"Excuse me, but are you naked?" Cathy inquired.

"He is naked," Donna confirmed.

"This is my good friend Mark. He's had a wardrobe malfunction," Howie introduced with a grin. "You've met George. Our other pal is Dwight. We all went to Laudanum High School together. George, Dwight, and I played football. Mark was the scorekeeper."

"If Mark is the one with the brains, how come he's naked in a noisy restaurant?" Donna asked, scooting closer. Cathy pressed closer, too. They playfully stroked his thighs, getting the expected reaction. Mark was beginning to sweat.

"What brings you girls to the beach today?" Dwight asked.

"We got off work early to see the fireworks, and the boardwalk is always a fun place to hang out. Especially now," Cathy answered.

"Tell us, is Mark married? Does he have a girlfriend?" Donna inquired.

"The guy is a monk," George said. "I don't think he's gotten laid since college."

"Oh, really?" Cathy said, reaching into Mark's crotch and making him howl.

"Don't do that. Not here," Mark protested, glancing around to see if other patrons were watching. There were a few curious expressions. He was getting hard and couldn't stop it. Cathy was making it worse.

"No one can see," she whispered.

"They can hear," Mark moaned.

"Live dangerously," Cathy urged.

"Let's avoid getting arrested," Mark answered.

Cathy relented. Reluctantly.

"Can we stand him up on the table? Make him sing a song?" Donna asked, causing Mark to cringe.

"No, we might get thrown out. You can check him out during the challenge," Dwight replied.

"Challenge?" the women said.

"I'm thinking we will have Mark run down the beach to the water, skinny dip for five minutes, and then give him an article of clothing back," Dwight suggested. "We can decide which one."

"How am I supposed to get down to the water naked without hundreds of people seeing me?" Mark asked.

"That's the challenge, isn't it?" Dwight answered with a smirk.

"If it was me," Howie said, "I'd slip into the alley through the kitchen, go around the side of the building, and then dash across the boardwalk when no one is looking."

There was a beeping sound. George picked up his phone.

"Sorry, they need me back at the office for a few minutes," he said, getting up.

"No problem. This challenge might take a while," Howie agreed. George turned to leave, but Dwight stopped him. He opened the duffel bag, stuffed Mark's clothes inside, and zipped it shut.

"George, keep an eye on this for me," Dwight said, handing him the bag. "I wouldn't want to accidentally lose Mark's wallet."

"It will be safe with me," George said with a grin, waving goodbye.

"Damn it, Dwight, you just gave away my clothes. All of my clothes. Why did you do that?" Mark asked, hunching down even further.

"Motivation," Dwight replied. "If you win the challenge, we'll let you have something to wear until George gets back."

"It sounds like a wonderful game," Cathy said. "Donna and I can scout the boardwalk for you. When you reach the alley, we'll wave you forward when it's safe."

"Dwight and I will follow Mark. Watch his back," Howie offered. "It will be a team effort."

"No, no. That's not going to happen," Mark rejected.

"Have it your own way," Dwight said, getting up. "Ladies, you are welcome to join Howie and I. We're renting beach chairs to watch the fireworks."

All four prepared to leave. Mark was sitting in the booth alone, hands over his lap, seeing few choices.

"Okay, I accept the challenge," he said.

"Very good. Howie, go pay the bill," Dwight said, taking charge. "Cathy, Donna, scout the boardwalk so Mark can escape to the beach. I'll make sure he makes it to the alley."

After the others left, Mark looked in every direction as he slid nude from the booth, waiting for the right moment. Then he followed Dwight down the hall to the men's room, scampering with both hands pressed over his private parts. Glancing back, he noticed Cathy and Donna had paused to watch. Several patrons had, too. Dwight herded him in the restroom while checking access to the kitchen.

"Have you been working out?" Dwight asked. "You look like the runner you were in high school. Well, maybe with fifteen extra pounds. This will be good exercise for you. Cover yourself."

The warning came too late. Mark stood red-faced as Dwight took a full-frontal photo with his phone.

"Stop doing that," Mark objected.

"One day you'll be old and fat, and thank me for this picture," Dwight said with a chuckle.

"What are you going to do with it?" Mark asked.

"What will I do with a picture of you in your birthday suit on your birthday? We'll see," his friend answered.

"Let's get going. I can't stand around here like this all day," Mark complained.

"We need to get closer to the back door," Dwight said. "Quick, the women's restroom is empty."

Dwight moved out, forcing Mark to follow. He ducked in the next door, but Dwight didn't, strolling farther down the hall. Mark looked out and then had to duck back. Two middle-aged women were coming. He went into the first stall, pushed down the latch, and got up on the toilet so no one would see his bare feet. The women entered.

"Did you hear? They say a naked man is running around the restaurant," one said.

"Has anyone called the police?" her friend asked.

"I hope not. I hear he has a cute butt," the first mentioned with a giggle.

"My favorite stall is locked. Hello, is someone in there?" she said, knocking. There was noise from the hall. Mark didn't know what to do, realizing he was trapped.

"Hello? Hello? Maybe I need to get the manager," the frustrated woman said, tugging on the door.

"Mark, let's go!" Dwight shouted from the hall.

Oh, God, what should I do? Mark wondered. This is so humiliating.

"Mark, what are you waiting for? Hurry up!" Dwight persisted.

With no time left, Mark jumped down from the toilet and opened the stall door. The women stepped back with shocked expressions.

"Excuse me, ladies. Wrong restroom," he said, pushing past them.

"It's him! That nude man!" one exclaimed.

"Cute butt," her friend observed.

Out in the hall, Mark saw Dwight waving him on. The kitchen had several cooks in white jackets and a few servers rushing around. Mark wasted no time dashing past them to the back door. Dwight pushed a lever, getting it open, and stepped aside as Mark ran by. Mark burst into the alley, now basked in twilight. He heard the door slam behind him.

There was a problem. To prevent scavengers from going through the restaurant's garbage, the entire area was enclosed by a chain-link fence! There was no way out. Mark turned to find the door behind him was locked.

"Goddamn it!" Mark shouted, searching the perimeter. A hobo looked up at Mark from a cardboard box.

"You're naked," he said, sounding drunk.

"Is there a way out of this cage?" Mark asked.

"Why do you want out? You've got all the food," the hobo replied.

"I'll change places with you," Mark offered.

"Naw, don't want to be in no cage," the vagrant said. "Been there, done that."

Mark wasn't waiting any longer. Being careful with his toes, he started to climb the fence where it attached to the wall, his fingers gripping the metal wire one handhold at a time. Then he stopped to think for a moment, lowering himself back down. A tray near the dumpster was loaded with rejected pastries.

"Hey, old timer, catch," he said, tossing the rolls over the fence one at a time. The old man's face lit up as he stuffed the prizes in his pockets.

"Thanks, kid," he said, scurrying away.

Mark resumed his climb, needing to go slow to avoid appendages getting caught in the wire. The last thing he needed was the fire department finding him hanging naked on a steel cage. Finally, he made it over the top, being extra cautious not to snag his balls on the wire as he lifted his leg over. He climbed halfway down, and then let go, dropping to his feet and rolling backward to absorb the fall. He landed in the alley's oily sludge.

There's going to be payback for this, he swore.

Breathing hard, Mark made his way down the alley. Looking around the side of the restaurant, he saw the boardwalk and the beach beyond. True to their word, Cathy and Donna were standing guard fifty feet away. They saw him and smiled, holding up their hands to say it wasn't safe. Mark heard music playing. Wind instruments and drums. The fireworks would start once the sun finished setting, still an orange glow on the horizon.

Mark waited, watching. Finding it hard to be patient. He might be seen at any minute. If he was spotted, would a mob come looking for him? Cops? Would he be arrested? Handcuffed? Perp-walked through a mocking crowd? There could be no retreat.

Finally, Cathy waved him forward. Mark broke from his position in the shadows, hustling onto the boardwalk, and immediately crashed into someone. And someone else. He fell on the rough wood planking, looking around. Men and women in bright red uniforms surrounded him, staring down. They were holding drums and carrying tubas. It was the marching band! Cathy had led him right into their midst!

Fuck! Mark thought, scrambling to get up. The shocked band members started laughing, and made no effort to get out of his way, briefly hemming him in. A drum was in his face. A trombone pressed against his balls. A majorette whacked his ass with her baton.

"Please. Please let me out," Mark whimpered. He heard Cathy and Donna laughing even louder than the band members. Crowds who had been taking photos of the band were now taking photos of him. He crawled on his hands and knees under their legs and jumped to his feet, only to fall over someone else. It was a shapely cheerleader this time in a bright gold outfit. She was on her back, knees spread, Mark laying on top of her.

"I usually get dinner and a movie first," she teased.

"Next time," Mark replied, looking for a direction to flee. Dwight and George were shouting encouragement. Mark ran down the beach toward the water, leaving the jeers behind him.

The ocean felt good, washing the alley grime from his body. Though no one could see he was nude, it seemed like the sun was taking forever to set. How long could he stay in the water? As long as it took. He noticed people starting to light bonfires in the fire pits. Lanterns appeared. There was a lot of noise as large groups gathered for the fireworks.

After a time, he saw two guys and two girls walking down the sand carrying folding chairs and a 12-pack of beer. They parked themselves close enough to watch every move Mark made. After setting up, Dwight walked into the surf, getting up to his waist. He handed Mark a beer.

"Good work making it this far," Dwight complimented. "You've won an article of clothing back. Would you like sandals or a baseball cap?"

"That's a big help," Mark grouched, enjoying the cold beer.

"The girls are having a great time," Dwight mentioned. "How about that timing with the band? Perfect, wasn't it?"

"Depending on one's point of view."

"We've spread the word that there's a guy in the water who lost his swimsuit. It might attract a crowd."

"It will be dark soon. I'll swim toward the dock where they can't see me."

"And go where?" Dwight asked. It was a good question. What am I supposed to do in the middle of the city with no clothes, no money, and no phone? he wondered.

"How do I get my pants back?" Mark inquired.

"George texted that he's been delayed, but he'll be here soon. All you need to do is find his car."

"He drives a silver Honda Accord. There must be thousands of them," Mark objected.

"I never said the challenge was easy."

"So, I'm supposed to run naked from one parking lot to the next until I find George's car?"

"Donna and Cathy have volunteered to help you," Dwight said with a snicker.

"I'm sure they'll be a big help. How many marching bands are in the parking lot?"

"Oh, look. The TV crew is arriving," Dwight said, pointing to were Howie and the women were sitting.

"TV crew?"

"Someone called in a rumor of a shark," Dwight explained with a grin. Mark saw a media team with a camera and floodlights lighting up the sand. The lights were pointed in his direction.

"I'll take the hat," Mark requested.

"The hat?"

"You said sandals or a baseball cap. I'll take a cap."

"A deal is a deal," Dwight agreed.

A few minutes later, Cathy waded into the surf with an L.A. Dodgers hat. She came up to Mark's side, one hand presenting the cap, the other going underwater and reaching for his most sensitive parts.

"You are too bold," Mark protested.

"I haven't heard you say no," she answered.

"You're too pretty to say no to."

"I still haven't had a good view of you naked," she complained. "You were sitting down, or running, or crawling under the legs of band members. All I've really seen is your butt. It's a great butt, by the way."