Two weeks later, when we both had our periods behind us, Julie and I began running out of new ideas to keep Steve guessing what we'd come up with next. She and I asked him if he'd mind too much if we went to the nudist camp while he was at work. We thought maybe just getting out there might help us come up with some new things.
"Not at all." He quickly responded. "Just don't drink and drive."
"I don't need alcohol to get naked in public now." I told him, "I'm way past that."
"Okay then, you two have fun . . . while I'm slaving away trying to support the three of us."
He said that jokingly, and we took it that way. He made plenty of money as an Investment Banker to support us many times over.
We arrived at the nudist camp around eleven, checked in and paid our dues. Dotty suggested that we become members of the camp and join AANR if we were going to come back very often. When we told her we'd talk to our husband about it, she raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, So Julie told her, "Yes, we're both married to him. My last name is different only because Florida won't let us make it legal."
Actually, her papers were pending to have her name legally changed back to her maiden name, so hers would be the same as ours. That would simplify maters a lot.
"Nice." Dotty responded. "I wish Tom would find another wife to help me with the cooking and chores . . . and I could go to sleep when he's in the mood for sex and I'm not."
Julie had been right when she'd told me the men would pay a lot more attention to us without Steve there. They went out of their way to strike up conversations with us. They still tried to keep their staring from being too apparent, but some of them simply couldn't help themselves. When I caught one of them, he quickly apologized. I didn't tell him I enjoyed it. Instead I said, "Don't worry about it.
"Just don't let your wife catch you." Julie added with a giggle.
There weren't nearly as many people at the camp or in the pool on weekdays, so we were relaxing in the water when another man came over to us. "Weren't you two here a few weeks ago with a guy—I assume a husband of one of you?"
"Yes" Julie answered him, "But actually, we're both married to him."
He did little to hide his surprise. "Interesting, he's a very, very lucky man."
I laughed, "Yes his is, and thank you for saying it."
"You're welcome. Now, the reason I came over—wait, I'm Jake Carlson." After we introduced ourselves and each shook his hand, he continued, "Please pardon me for being so bold, and please don't be offended by what I'm about to ask, but one never knows unless he asks."
Julie giggled again, "Don't be shy. What's on your mind?"
"Well, there are some things out here—some 'activities' they don't tell you about at the office."
"Oh, do tell." I urged him to get on with it.
"At the far end of the road is a curve and mostly permanent residents. We have a very nice party room with a hot tub and things, and a group of us have parties there every Saturday night . . . sometimes more often."
Julie giggled, "I suspect these aren't Tupperware parties. Am I right?"
His face turned red, "Uh, well no . . . they aren't. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you're invited—the three of you . . . anytime. It's a very nice place. Would you like to see it—that is, if you're into that kind of thing?"
I just shrugged, so Julie said, "Sure, why not?"
"My golf cart is right over there."
"Let us dry off and grab our shoes. We'll be right there."
It was a tight fit in the golf cart with all three of us in the front seat, but he didn't seem to mind at all hehe. And he wasn't kidding. It was a very nice place. It was a separate building in back of his double-wide mobile home. It was all wood—like in the design of a lob cabin inside and out. Inside the large room, the most prominent feature was a very large hot tub. Between the hot tub and the wall behind it was a large deck, level with the top of the hot tub. In the center of the deck was a pole—the same kind strip clubs have for their dancers.
The other side of the room had 4 stuffed leather chairs and 2 leather sofas arranged in a semi circle. There were 3 large screen TVs on the walls. In one corner was a shower—no stall, just a matt and drain. The floor of the room was tile, and there was another drain in the center of the room. In another corner was a toilet—again, no stall, and a small sink.
"Oh my gawd!" Julie and I both gasped in unison. "This is fantastic."
"Yeah" He said, "Most people like it."
"Don't worry about the toilet not being private. If you don't feel comfortable using it, or if you have to do more than pee, you can use the bathroom in the house."
"That's nice to know." I responded.
Julie spoke up while swishing her hand across the water of the hot tub, "So, Jake, if we were to attend one of your parties, would we be expected to fool around with anyone and everyone, or could we keep our playing just between the 3 of us?"
"Excellent question." He responded. Many in our group started just watching the fun and playing between themselves. Some have moved on to playing with others in the group, but some have not. They are all welcome to attend, if they obey the rules."
"Rules?" I inquired.
"We don't like it when people just want to watch us. If you attend, we would appreciate it if you would participate—even if it's with your spouse—spouses, in your case. Other than that, we only have 3 rules: First and foremost, 'No means No'. Second, you have to BYOB—even mixers and ice. And lastly, no bodily fluids in the hot tub. The rest of the place can be sanitized, and it is after every party, but the hot tub is more difficult."
Julie giggled, "No cumming in the hot tub. Got it."
"And that's why we put in the shower." He added with a chuckle.
I gave him his answer, "Well, we'll have to talk to our husband, but as far as I'm concerned, count us in."
"Awesome, now c'mon. I'll drive you back to the pool."
On the way back to the pool, Jake said people usually start showing up around 9 pm. And then he suggested we show up early and meet people as they come in, instead of several at a time or one right after the other. "Besides, it'll give you a chance to get to know us prior to things heating up."
* * *
We told Steve about the invitation, and he said he thought it might be fun, so we made plans to attend that coming Saturday. Steve then shocked me by suggesting we make another trip to the State Park during the day on Saturday, and then attend the party later that evening.
"Really?" I asked in an astonished tone.
Julie spoke up with a giggle, "If you'd seen him while he was watching you last time, you wouldn't be so surprised."
* * *
When Saturday came and we were driving out to the State Park, Steve shocked me again by saying right out of the blue, "Deb, Julie and I talked about it and we don't mind if you want to 'play' a little more if you feel like it."
I let that soak into my brain for a few seconds before saying, "Play . . . a little more, huh. What did you two have in mind?"
He shrugged and then said awkwardly, "Well, we didn't . . . we just thought you might want to . . . hell I don't know."
When I looked into the backseat, Julie was silently offering up her suggestion. She was making a jack off motion with her hand.
I thought about it the rest of the way to the park, but hadn't made up my mind by the time we got there. And even during the long hike up to "my curve" in the path, I still didn't know quite how I felt about the idea. I had no desire to "play" with anyone but Steve and Julie. The idea just didn't set well with me.
When two girls, probably in their early twenties came up the hill, I got an idea. I walked out onto the opposite side of the curve and, just as I'd done with the two men last time, I met them right in the middle of the curve. They lowered their eyes and tried to ignore me on the way by, but I stepped in front of them.
"Girls, on your way up the hill, did you by any chance see a man wearing a yellow polo shirt and white shorts, carrying some extra clothes? My husband is playing his idea of a practical joke on me. All I agreed to do was pose for one nude picture off in the trees. He took the damn picture and then scampered off with my clothes. He yelled back that they would be waiting for me in the car."
The girls both finally looked up at me. One giggled while the other just smiled. "Sorry, but we didn't see him. He's probably back where he took the picture looking for you."
The other girl hadn't taken her eyes off my tits the whole time, "Don't those" she said, pointing to my nipple clamps. "Don't they hurt?"
I chuckled, "They're adjustable. You can set them to whatever tension you like. I started out with them on a very light setting, but I've been setting them tighter lately. And when you're about to cum, a little tug on the chain will send you into outer space."
"Wow!" One said, but the other one was less shy. She said, "I can imagine. I know I like her to pinch or bite mine hard when I cum."
"Judy!" the other girl exclaimed as she hit her friend across the bicep.
The first girl looked at her shy friend and said, "Like she cares if we're bi!" And then she looked back at me, "Well, I'm bi. She's lez."
"Oh my gawd!" the shy girl half screamed. "I can't believe you're telling a total stranger about me—us."
"That's okay. Don't worry about it, hon. I'm very, very bi myself. In fact, we have a three way marriage. I have a husband and a wife and he has two wives etc..."
"Oh my gawd!" the less shy of the two exclaimed, "That's fucking awesome. So you have the best of both worlds, and your husband is living every boy's—man's fantasy. Fucking awesome!"
"Yep. My wife is very bi too, so we all get along great together."
"Gawd, I'm so, so jealous of you—I mean even other than your incredible body—but that too."
"Well, if I had a pen, I'd give you my number and we could have lunch sometime, but alas." I said, holding my arms out from my sides.
"I have one." The bi girl said, and quickly dug in her fanny pack and produced a pen. Then she held out her palm for me to write on. While I was, she said, "Perhaps you could bring your wife. We'd love to meet her."
I gave them each a tight hug, whispering to the lez girl, "Just be who you are, dear. It's a new world out there. People will accept you for who you are."
"Oh right!" She said, but not in a hateful way, "Try telling that to my preacher dad and my fucking prude of a mother. They're paying my tuition, and they'd cut that off in a New York minute."
"I'm surprised to hear that." I said flatly.
"What? That preachers and prudes wouldn't accept having a lesbian for a daughter?"
"No, not that—I totally understand that. I'm just surprised to hear that New York has its own version of a minute." And we all laughed and went our separate ways.
