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Introduction:

Chapter 12: Songs of Love. The growing tribe comes together in a nude pool and karaoke party/housewarming at Joe and Jo's new residence, with the promise of a brighter and happier future to come.
Chapter 12: Songs of Love

Carl and I are showered and shaved, the sheets are freshly changed, and I lay atop him in the August heat. His cock is deeply embedded inside me, but it’s resting here, just enough movement between the two of us to keep it firm and inserted. It’s not going to be a passionate fuck, but a relaxing one. Neither of us has any need to cum. I just like the warm and satisfying feeling of it taking up the empty space inside my no longer lonely pussy.

“So,” I ask idly, stroking the top of his smooth bronze scalp, “was today a good day for you?”

“Fantastic!” he chuckles. “I got all the boxes ticked off, without ticking anyone else off. I got my sloppy seconds, I had a good training session with three beautiful and sexy young women, several fabulous fucks with several fabulous gals, a good time at the lake with an enthusiastic audience, plenty to eat, and a couple of nice new friends. I’ve been a nudist for years, but I’ve been enjoying it a helluva lot more lately.”

“I agree with all that except for one point,” I correct him. “Those are MY sloppy seconds.”

“Conceded,” he smiles.

“You’ve been fucking a lot more women lately,” I muse, genuinely curious. “And a lot more often. Are you feeling depleted? Hornier? Used up? Increased capacity? I worry that all my guys might be getting overwhelmed by all these demanding horny women coming into their lives. Seriously, I’m not joking. I’m hornier than I’ve ever been. It’s like I’m on a honeymoon constantly. I’m getting fucked multiple times a day, and having multiple orgasms. But I’m not getting sore, and I’m not getting tired of it. I’m wanting it even more. And then Megan and Sonia are doing the same thing! You haven’t fucked Hera yet but she’s insatiable, and Joanne can’t get enough of you sometimes… are you sure you can keep up with the demand? I feel like we need to bring another guy into the group to keep you and Taylor especially, from getting overwhelmed, since you two are shouldering the majority of the load.”

“I’m fine,” he assures me. “Although I don’t think it’s our shoulders that are being challenged. But when I go on tour with Sonia, Taylor might have it even rougher, so you may have to bring in another guy for his sake. But you know, I might feel sexually deprived if I’m only fucking one woman for a couple of months.”

I snicker. “I doubt that. Sonia will bring her A-game. Without Henri’s giant cock to fill her she might be hungrier than you can imagine.”

“I hope Henri’s giant cock has more opportunity to make you happy without her keeping him from you,” he answers with surprising sincerity.

“You want me to send you pictures of that giant cock ramming inside me and filling me with cum?” I start to move on him a little more energetically as the vision inspires me.

“You know I do,” he says. “You know you’re going to want me pushing all that cum out of you with my cock, and flushing it out with my own cum. You’re going to wish I was there to do it.”

I take back what I said about having no need to cum. The excitement is building in me, as is the moisture. I don’t take back what I said about wanting even more sex. The more I’m getting, the more I’m wanting. And not just any sex. Deep fucking with big hard hot cocks. Carl and Taylor and Henri and Joe. I want them all to fuck me. Daily. Multiple times daily. Sequentially. Like porn stars. Like I’m a porn star. Goddam it, I want to gang bang all those bastards. I’m feeling so fucking selfish. Four guys, with five women that demand frequent satisfaction. When Carl and Sonia leave it will be three for four. Can the guys keep up? Carl thinks he can. He’s in his prime. Taylor? He hasn’t complained yet. Henri? He hasn’t fucked any of us nearly often enough. Maybe if he shoved that huge snake inside me more often I’d finally get sore. But I’m only getting it about once a week from him now. He’s going to have to step up. And Joe? He’s in his forties, fer cryin’ out loud. I’m amazed by the volume, sweetness, and frequency of his ejaculations so far, but he’s got to be working on borrowed time. He must have been one amazing specimen in his prime, though. There’s no doubt left in my mind. We’re going to have to add another very horny, very high-endurance, very open-minded, very fit, and very physically beautifully-shafted male to our bevy. It will be easier said than done. That’s a project for future consideration.

The idea drives me even further into the desire side of the spectrum. One more orgasm can’t hurt, can it? Damn, am I a freak of nature? Is everyone in this tribe a freak? Why do I need to cum so often? Why do I need to fuck so often? Why do I need so many cocks? I think of all the wives I know who are perfectly happy with their one man, their two to three times a week sexual ‘interludes’, which may occupy ten minutes of their evenings. I would go insane. But maybe I already am. I need this. I need to be fucked. I need to be fucked abundantly, frequently, repeatedly, with large, hard, hot, meaty, multiple cocks, with lots of sticky, sweet, salty, musky semen, filled with pheromones and endorphins. I need my orgasms. I need the orgasms of others. I need other women’s orgasms. But I especially need the orgasms of men. I need their sweet, sweet nectar. What is wrong with women who need less? What is wrong with me?

I lift my shoulders off of Carl to allow me to drive my weight down on his cock. He’s smiling at me, knowing my need, happy to fill it. He tenses his hip, thrusting just slightly into me while I do most of the work, bouncing needily up and down on him. I’m slippery and wet, but as tight as I want to be, as my cunt muscles squeeze and knead Carl’s willing flesh. My clit presses down with each impact onto his fleshy smooth pubic mound. I can smell my juices permeating the room. We were so clean, now my cunt juice is the only aroma. I scream out my orgasm, after having so many I’m still surprised to cum so intensely, so desperately. Again I wonder if there is something wrong with me to make me react this way. But the thought of me being a sick, helpless, pathological slut just makes me cum even harder. If that’s who I am, then I accept my addiction. And now I’m getting my fix. I’ll need another soon.

I let myself calm down while my pussy relaxes around his shaft. One orgasm should be enough for now. No reason to be selfish. Carl is nowhere near cumming himself. He’s not quite as controlled as Taylor and Joe, but he’s getting much better at it. I remember earlier today Joanne told Megan to “keep practicing” in her attempts to deep throat Carl. Megan’s not here now, but I realized I haven’t practiced that much lately. I’ve been so obsessed with getting my pussy filled, and those of my friends, that I’ve been tasting all my cum second hand. I want to get to the primary source tonight.

I pull up and Carl’s cock bounces free. It doesn’t flop or fall, it’s still rock hard and straight as a tree trunk. Or a rocket. It’s wet. Slimy. Sticky. Shiny. Beautiful. I snuggle up to him and rest my head on his belly. I know he’ll want to lick my cunt while I suck him, he enjoys 69 almost as much as sloppy seconds. But not now. I want no distractions. I want to savor him, to lovingly experience every detail of this unique, shapely, pretty cock, to work my tongue between glans and foreskin, to feel every rippling vein, every pebbly texture, to study the slitted exit orifice at the tip, the source of the creamy fluid I love so much. I want to squeeze it between my lips and tongue, to feel the soft, pliable and loose skin on the surface, and how it slides back and forth over the firmer, unseen but substantial flesh below, I want to map those subsurface structures with all my senses, my eyes, my fingers, my tongue, and my lips. My ears? Can I hear the blood rushing through those excited vessels? I put my ear to his shaft and listen, moving it slowly over every inch. He chuckles, but whimpers at the unfamiliar yet enticing sensation. I do hear the pulse. I feel the pulse in my mouth as I plunge onto it. And yes, I can deep throat Carl. Just as easily as Joanne can. Megan definitely needs more practice. I’ll help her get it. But not tonight. Tonight he’s mine.

My thoughts have not been of pleasing Carl. They’ve been of entertaining myself, of experiencing the manly equipment he offers me. I’m totally selfish. But it seems not to matter. My selfishness turns him on, and I feel that flesh strain as I roll it around in my mouth. A few more strokes and… yes, it gives me what I want. I had almost forgotten how much I crave this taste, this texture, this aroma. It’s a bouquet of many flavors, heady as a strong wine, but not chilled. Fruity, tangy, musky, earthy, salty, tingly, like warm seasoned butter, like the best of both mayonnaise and Miracle Whip. So many tastes in every slippery drop. The palette passes behind my palate, up into my sinuses from behind, clearing them out like a strong pepper spice. The liquid wants to come up and out my nose as well, but I keep it in as pulse after pulse gushes into my mouth. I don’t want to swallow, I want to let the taste percolate on my tongue. It feels heavenly.

I finally swallow it all down, and shift my snuggling up to Carl’s muscular chest as he wraps his arms around me. “I love you,” I confess as I feel the warmth of his body and listen to the beating of his heart below my ear. He’s already asleep. I follow soon after.

Sunday morning and I’m starving. There’s no need to rush to get to Joe and Jo’s house, there’s plenty of time for a generous breakfast. And there’s plenty of time to talk while we eat. One of many positive outcomes of Carl now having multiple women to fuck, who want to fuck him, and who make him feel desired and beautiful, is that the reticence with which I’ve had to deal for two years is rapidly disappearing. He talks more, more openly, and even, it seems, more intelligently about things I would have never thought him interested in before. Breakfast talk is almost like pillow talk. And it’s interesting talk. It’s still primarily about topics like weight training, coaching, fitness, and of course, women and fucking, but these are topics I enjoy as well. The time flies, and by the time we’re done I know we won’t be excessively punctual when we arrive at the party house.

Joe and Joanne Hill have made it emphatically clear that we are not to bring anything to the party. No beer, no drinks, no food. “Bring only yourselves and your desires,” Jo told us. We take her at her word. After yesterday’s successful adventure of driving naked to the lake, I decide to take the risk once more. When we head to the Jeep, we’re both naked. I’m not even bringing shoes this time. Carl brings his wallet with his driver’s license. We have our phones.

We have written directions to the house, as well as GPS on the Maps app, so we aren’t too worried about getting lost. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, an older subdivision in the Balcones Park area near Mount Bonnell on what used to be Austin’s west side. It’s across town, but we have plenty of gas and the traffic isn’t too bad. Being Sunday, we pass a few well-dressed church-goers, and giggle at how they contrast with our nakedness. We get there with no difficultly, and park on the sidewalk in front of the house, as the driveway is already occupied. We notice Sonia’s BMW already here, as well as Megan’s little Ford.

We feel just a bit exposed stepping out of the Jeep naked onto the street and sidewalk, but fortunately there is a lull in traffic and no one in sight outside for a moment, so we hurry across the front yard to the house. We ring the doorbell and Joanne, fortunately as naked as we are, ushers us in. Mimi and Ray hug us as we enter, and I make a beeline to Henri as soon as I see him, wanting to feel that huge cock rub against my crotch as I give him a hello squeeze.

“Tethys, you brighten the room when you walk in, I’m so happy to see you!” he smiles with his usual golden voice. I immediately feel a spot of wetness, and I know Henri is sincere about being happy to see me, since I can feel his manhood extend and tighten with our contact.

Megan is naked too, although not looking quite as comfortable as usual. She is standing beside her mother, who is equally uncomfortable looking, and completely dressed.

“Tethys, this is Rena, my mom,” Megan’s voice quavers a little as she introduces us. Rena takes my hand.

“Tethys. Megan has told me all about you. You’re the one who introduced her to all… this.”

It sounds like an accusation, although I can’t be completely sure it’s not just a trick of the general tension. Part of me wants to run away and put as much distance between us as possible, and part of me wants to sit down with her and offer her a long detailed explanation as to why this is the best lifestyle for all of us in this particular group. I simply smile and say “Megan is such a joy to know, and such a wonderful person. You did a superb job raising her.” I hope it helps. Rena smiles and nods for a moment. Looking more closely at her, I’m surprised to see that she looks much younger than I had assumed she’d be. I’d expected someone on the order of Joanne’s or Phoebe’s age, but Rena, even though life has obviously worn her down some, doesn’t seem much older than myself or Taylor. The realization hits me that she must have given birth to Megan when she was very, very young, and that’s a sad thought to contemplate. Her life must have been hard indeed. Now I feel I understand the source of her worry – it’s not misplaced.

Joanne is happy to rescue me by offering me a tour of the house. It’s nicely laid out on the inside, not huge but comfortable, with four bedrooms, three baths, and a massive kitchen and den. The back yard is gorgeous. There’s a patio with a pool on the far edge, which then drops down to a steeply sloped yard surrounded by a concrete wall. It’s completely private, sunny, and inviting. I can see why they chose it. It’s the kind of place you’d never need to wear clothes in or outside.

I notice a lack of art on the walls indoors, and the thought strikes me that perhaps they’d like a couple of my paintings. I decide to hold the thought for later.

Not too long after the crowd grows as Hera and Taylor arrive. But not just Hera and Taylor. True to her word, she has brought along Phoebe, her mother, and her father, who I’ve never seen before. He looks professorial, less than average height, thin, bespectacled, with somewhat rumpled gray hair, a gray mustache, and of all things, a tweed jacket. He introduces himself as Herakles.

“Herakles?” I ask. “Is that why you named her Hera? Is she named after you?”

“That would be an irony for the mythology,” he laughs softly. “Originally, Hera was a sort of stepmother and then mother in law to Heracles, but she always hated him and wanted him dead. But even the Greeks were known to evolve their mythology to keep up with changing times, so it seems fitting in this almost reversed culture to invert the relationship. THIS Herakles is Hera’s father and loves her dearly. And our Hera is not jealous and vindictive, but loving, kind, erotic, inclusive and passionate.”

”She is all that!” I agree. “I’m sure you’re part of the reason for who she is. I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

“Thank you,” he smiles. “But I’m not sure either one of us is the reason. She’s been her own person since she was born. The determination to be nude, and the vast scope of her sexually intense eroticism is her own. Phoebe never started talking about the Goddess, and was never much into erotica until Hera kind of overwhelmed us with it. I think it’s her way of dealing with the wonder and confusion.”

“She’s become Hera’s biggest fan!” I laugh. “And we love having her around. I’m grateful that you share her with us.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “It’s not my doing. I’m just riding the wave, trying to keep my head above water. But in a way, I am proud of both of them. I’m glad they’ve found this supportive little tribe, as I’m told you refer to it. I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a cult!”

“Me too!” I agree. My thought is that Phoebe may be the one we need to caution about that.

Hera and Phoebe introduce themselves to our hosts and spend some time making small talk. Megan takes advantage of Taylor’s arrival. Once he’s safely undressed and has gotten through his initial greetings, she intercepts him and grasps him firmly by the cock. With a smile, she begins to squeeze and pull until it responds to her liking. His own smile is a bit befuddled, not sure what she has in mind. Now that he’s the size and shape she’s looking for, she holds him firmly by what is now a love handle in every sense of the word, and leads him by it across the room to introduce him to her mother.

“Mom, this is Taylor. He’s Tethys’ boyfriend. It was Tethys and Taylor who inspired me to go for what I really want to do.”

Taylor and Rena exchange a rather awkward handshake, Megan still clamping her fingers on his cock, which remains mostly expanded. Rena is making an effort not to look at it.

“Mom, this is not the thing you were worried about,” Megan continues. “Nobody’s hurting me or abusing me. This is my choice. I’m going to be a nudist and I’m going to be fucking the people in this group, because I love them and they love me and I love to fuck. These are the people I want to be with. I’m going to be fucking Taylor in this house, or maybe out at the pool, where everybody can watch. You can watch too, Mom. I hope you do. Hera’s mom watches her fuck, and it’s amazing. I didn’t say making love, and I didn’t say having sex, even though I’m doing both of those things too. But what I’m doing specifically is fucking. I don’t want to use euphemisms for it. It’s fucking. Period. I’m going to have this cock right here…” she gestures with her free hand to make sure her mother does look, “inside me, and I’m going to be sliding it in and out and I’m going to be wet and having orgasms all over it, and he’s going to be blasting his cum inside me. That’s just something you’re going to have to accept. But what I really hope is that you don’t just accept it, but embrace it, and that you’re happy for me.”

Rena doesn’t look happy at the moment, but she does seem resigned, and Megan is soon off again. She doesn’t plan to monopolize Taylor’s time, and for now, she joins Hera in getting more acquainted with Henri and his monster. Part of me feels a little disappointed for all three, Henri is a wonderful person with many fantastic qualities, but these two girls seem most interested in only the full frontal one. I had grown up with the myth that a woman should be first and foremost interested in a man’s character, that any physical attributes are secondary. When I was Megan and Hera’s age, I still accepted that, although it had always been a difficult struggle, but I had also found that every man I took interest in turned out to have some pretty serious shortcomings in the character department. When I first saw Carl that day at Hippie Hollow, I was drawn exclusively to his physical attributes – his frame, his muscles, and that uniquely spectacular cock, but ironically, what began as a physical-only friends-with-benefits scenario grew into something wonderfully complete, as he turned out to be a man I could trust and truly care for.

Still, I can’t blame Megan and Hera, Henri’s massive cock truly is a sight to behold, as well as being fun to hold, and Hera’s mother seems smitten by it as well. Hopefully, someday they’ll get to know him better, and his beautiful sexual equipment, and the beautiful sex that he enables with it, will lead them to seeing the rest of his attractive character traits. In the meantime, he doesn’t seem bothered by their attention, and his swollen extended anaconda is providing them with a new world of fascination. They’re going to be challenged to fit the whole thing inside them, and I know they’re going to want to try.

Despite the initial playfulness and exploration, there’s a remarkable absence of intense sex occurring for a while. We spend most of the afternoon lounging around either inside or on the terrace around the pool. We come and go freely back and forth, with a lot of swimming and splashing, some relaxed sunning, a bit of snacking and a lot of good conversation.

A couple of hours after our arrival I’m surprised to see two new faces in the crowd, one unfamiliar yet somehow familiar, the other completely unknown. They’re young, looking to be about Megan’s age. The girl is a little taller than myself, almost as tall as Joanne, with Mediterranean skin and hair, slim yet prominent breasts with smaller areolae and pointier nipples, and a face that closely resembles her fathers. Like the rest of us, she’s shaved clean between her legs, and moves comfortably nude. Her companion is lean, almost skinny, dark hair, on the pale side, but with a very attractive thick cock. His pubes are freshly shaved, but a glance shows that they aren’t accustomed to being that way. He follows her around with a certain air of timidity.

“Tethys, I want you to meet our daughter, Angela. She’s been taking some summer classes at UT, and we haven’t been able to drag her to the lake yet. And this is…” she hesitates momentarily, then remembers the name. “Rick. This is his first time in a group like this, so we’re trying to be gentle,” she smiles.

Later, she catches up with me alone and continues in a whisper. “Angela and Rick have only been seeing each other a few weeks. She’s been raised like we were, and being naked was always second nature to her. But you know how kids are, she decided her parents were just too uncool, and she tried to go mainstream. She was dating this law student, and I guess there were too many hangups. She felt stifled. ‘Duh!’ I have to admit I was able to sneak an ‘I told you so’ in! So she’s back now, the prodigal daughter returns! Isn’t she beautiful?”

She doesn’t seem to know much about Rick, so there isn’t much to be said, but Angela seems proud to drag him around, and he’s really not a bad looking kid, once he warms up to the environment and starts acting more comfortable. A bit later I see the two of them sitting with Sonia and Henri, chatting cheerfully. At least Sonia and Angela are chatting, Henri and Rick are sitting back in apparent glory, both women almost absently massaging their now erect cocks as they talk and gesture.

It’s Ray and Mimi, of all people, who finally get the real action started. I’m sitting at the edge of the pool with my legs dangling and gently drifting in the water, while Ray is sitting on my left. Mimi is standing in the water between his legs, his cock has responded as it should to her attentions. Like Sonia and Angela, like all the women here, she likes to casually fondle her man’s cock and balls while we converse about any topic at all. During pauses in the conversation, she takes him into her mouth and suckles him. There are a lot of pauses.

“You two look so good together, it’s so natural the way you interact. I’m a little jealous. Or envious is a better word, I guess. Like you’re soulmates.”

“Oh, we’re soulmates all right,” Mimi smiles as she releases the grip of her lips around him. “And his soul is right here!” she laughs, giving him a tug.

“I hope I have the kind of sex life you guys have when I’m as young as you,” I add teasingly.

“We’re good for a couple of times a week now,” says Ray. “It’s a far cry from our young and horny days, when we were doing it multiple times a day. But it’s still very, very good.”

“That’s true,” Mimi nods, “and what we’re doing now doesn’t even count as sex, really. But the crowd here is a bit inspiring, and I’m pretty horny.” She looks seriously at me. “Fuck as often as you can, for as long as you can, because it doesn’t last forever. Good sex is such a blessing, especially with the right people, it lifts up your whole life!”

“Mimi is a real evangelist for nudism and sex,” Ray smiles. “Once I introduced her to it, I created a monster!”

“In a good way, I hope,” says Mimi, going back down on him.

“So Ray was your first?” I ask. I’m curious about long term couples with open relationships, especially considering it’s something I dream of for myself.

“Well, yes and no,” Mimi gives the wiggling hand gesture. “Not to go into too much detail, but I met Ray when I was sixteen, and if I hadn’t, I’m sure I wouldn’t have lived to eighteen. He saved my life, and then when we got married, I think he saved my sanity.”

“No I didn’t,” Ray laughs. “Your sanity has never been recoverable. If anything, you’re getting crazier.”

He looks at me, smiling. “She’s crazy like a fox, though. I may have saved her life once, but she’s saved mine dozens of times since then. Even when she wants to kill me!”

“Bullshit!” scoffs Mimi. “At least the part about saving your life. The part about wanting to kill you is true.”

With that, she pulls herself up out of the water in the graceful motion of a much younger woman, and stands in front of Ray, straddling his legs and presenting her dripping, bald pussy to his smiling face. He takes the hint and grabs her ass, pulling her forward into tongue range. Occupied, he can’t interrupt.

“Before I met Ray, sex was a prison and a torture. I was literally enslaved to other men’s desires. It was a life I would not wish on anybody, but I was born into it. I had no choice. It killed my grandmother and my mother, and would have killed me, because I didn’t see a way out of it.”

I’m horrified, but the words don’t seem to bother Mimi at all. How she can casually rub her cunt onto a man’s face, obviously getting off on it, while simultaneously revealing such a terribly traumatic experience, is something I can’t comprehend to this day.

“Ray just showed up out of the blue, and he figured out a way to pull me away from that life. He gave me my very first orgasm, and he put me in a place where I could be safe, and have honest work, and gain some self respect for the first time in my life. With him, sex became the exact opposite. Instead of torture and enslavement, it became a way to express my freedom, and my power as a woman and a person. Fucking Ray was like nothing I could ever have imagined. And the beautiful thing was that it was always my choice. He never pushed me, he never pressured me, he never made me feel it was a duty. He changed my whole outlook. Once I started fucking him, I couldn’t get enough. And I haven’t been able to get enough ever since!”

I’m still horrified, but also fascinated as she pulls Ray’s head into her crotch and rubs herself up and down on his mouth. Thinking about what she must have been through, I expect I would lose any ability to be sexually stimulated, especially by a man, but she treats it as nothing more than small talk, and as I’m learning, she loves to have sex during small talk.

After a few minutes of Ray’s tongue work, Mimi sits down and impales herself on Ray’s cock, which has somehow remained hard during the conversation. As she rides him, Ray is free to speak again.

“Our friends who we’ve been visiting were the ones who put her up while she was getting back on her feet. He was my sergeant and his wife while I was stationed in the Philippines. They lived on base and gave her a spare room, and found her a housekeeping job in officer’s housing. They did as much or more for her than I did.”

“They wouldn’t have done anything without you, Ray. They’re wonderful people, but you were the one who twisted their arm and nagged them until they went along with your scheme.”

“Well, it was risky for them. Charles could have gotten in a lot of trouble, so he really stuck his neck out for us. They both did. They became family to us, and they always will be.”

Mimi’s eyes are closed, and she’s taking slow gyrations on Ray’s cock, with an expression of serenity that isn’t usually associated with the midst of a good fuck. From both of them, it’s a different attitude than I’ve seen before.

“So Betty, that’s Charles’ wife, warned Ray that I’d probably experience some strange… how’d she put it, unpredictable ways of acting out as I was trying process all this over time and adjust to my new reality. She was right. We were already nudists, and I was loving it. Eventually I started developing this powerful urge for group sex, and having people watch me fuck, and Ray basically was left to figure out how to deal with me. I think he handled it well.”

“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Ray answers laconically.

“Well if you two are still together and happy after forty years, then both of you must be doing something right,” I assure them.

Mimi opens her eyes and smiles at me, leaning her head on Ray’s chest without interrupting her fuck rhythm. “Yes, I think we are,” she agrees.

At the rate they’re going, Ray shows no sign that he’ll be ejaculating anytime soon, and Mimi doesn’t appear to be in a hurry either. They’ve attracted an audience, Jo and Joe sit down on the other side of them and are looking on proudly, and Phoebe and Herakles are watching closely nearby. Sonia and Henri have moved to the spot opposite us on the other side of the pool, Henri laying on his back and Sonia riding him with her own slow thrusts, whether consciously or not, their rhythm is synchronized with that of Ray and Mimi. Angela is on her knees in front of Rick still on the same lawn chair, and she is doing a very skilled piece of work on his grateful organ. Hera and Megan are both fussing over Carl, and Taylor has brought Rena over to sit beside me. At least everybody has somebody here.

The afternoon passes almost imperceptibly. It’s surprisingly mellow, considering all the naked bodies and the near-constant fucking. None of us are fucking constantly individually, but it feels like some couple is in mid coitus at any given time. Surprisingly to me, Ray and Mimi seem to be the ones fucking more continuously than anyone else. Mimi has had several orgasms of various intensities, but Ray has managed to hold off, and amazingly for a man in his sixties, he seems to have no trouble maintaining his erection. At one point I wonder if his capacity is pharmaceutically enhanced, but Mimi slaps me on the shoulder at the thought.

“No he’s not, girl, that’s all Ray. It’s a skill he developed during our early years together, when we first started sharing with others. He put a lot of study and practice into it. All our friends call him ‘Forever Ray.’ He used to be even better at it, but none of us are what we once were.”

Mimi does manage to show some evidence of her self-proclaimed proclivity for outside pleasure. At one point she latches onto Henri, who’s monster cock tends to on occasion attract more attention than he’s comfortable with. Still, he politely gives Mimi access to play with it, grows appropriately hard, and she’s able to fit a surprising proportion of it into her mouth. Between her oral and manual stimulation, she induces several spurts of cum out of him, which she swallows happily.

“He’s a great tasting guy,” she confides in me later. “I enjoy the taste of most men, but some semen is better than others, I’m sure you’ve noticed that too. Henri is top tier.”

“I’ve had monster cocks before,” she continues. I love the way they look, Henri’s real pretty, and I like playing with them, but I’m not all that enthused about stuffing my cunt with them. I’m a lot better adapted to cocks of Ray’s size. That’s perfect for me. Anyway, Ray and I don’t fuck other people much any more. We have two couples we’ve known for years who will always be kind of like co-spouses to us, but there’s nobody else we’re really that interested in any more. My main days of promiscuity, or polyamory, or sluthood, whatever you want to call it, are mostly behind me. And actually,” she hardly takes a breath as she goes on, “Ray would always have been perfectly happy to be monogamous with me. It was always me pulling him into these other relationships. Usually it worked out very well, but not always. Still, I don’t have any regrets, and I don’t think he does either. We had a great run.”

She seems to be confiding in me more than in the other guests here, and I’m not sure why. I’m flattered by her trust, I assume Joe and Joanne already know these details, but I don’t know what she sees in me. I feel a responsibility for knowing this much personal detail of her history, and I vow to myself to keep it to myself.

Rena has begun spending most of her time with Hera’s parents, which makes sense as they’re the only other ones clothed, and the only other ones who haven’t been openly fucking. I’ve spoken to her as best I could to reassure her that Megan’s new way of relating to her sexuality is not going to harm her, and knowing Phoebe’s enthusiasms, I’m sure Rena’s hearing the same thing from her. She does appear a bit more relaxed, and at least doesn’t look visibly disturbed by the sight of open sex, even when she sees Megan getting doggy-styled by Carl. I think she’ll be ok.

Copious snacks, mild drinks, hours of hot sunshine, and evening insects finally have made a cumulative impact, and as the sun dips behind the hills we find ourselves indoors again. With a little help from the guests, Joe and Joanne re-arrange the furniture in the large play room next to the patio doors. The chairs and sofas are pushed to the back wall, on which a large video screen is hung. Speakers and another screen are on the opposite side, as is a small table with a laptop opened on it. The room has become both dance floor and karaoke club.

Music has been playing all day, pleasant but forgettable generic party music. It’s all popular songs we know well, and don’t require any focus of attention to enjoy. Now our hosts have switched it to a more mellow style of slow dance music, and the first out on the floor is the only clothed couple, Herakles and Phoebe. I have to admit they look great together. Neither of them is exceptionally beautiful, neither have trim youthful bodies, but their joy in the experience they’re sharing is visible. I know the intensity of Phoebe’s sexual passions, and it’s impossible to imagine anything but a glorious sex life between the two of them, even without the physical aesthetics that I enjoy from my naked friends and lovers so much.

Mimi and Ray quickly join them, now the oldest couple on the floor, but their naked bodies are spectacularly built for any age, and they are skilled dancers together. They’re also uninhibited, their rhythmic graceful touching includes much kissing and erotic caressing of chest, breast, ass, cock, and cunt. Yet these touches are seamless in their motion, and seem a natural part of their dance style. It’s beautiful to watch.

Henri and Sonia are a predictable couple, as are Rick and Angela, but what both surprises me and warms my heart is when Taylor approaches Rena and asks her out onto the floor. She’s reluctant at first, and who can blame her. The situation is like nothing she’s experienced, a handsome naked younger man approaching her like a charming suitor. With a smile and an application of charm that even Henri would be challenged to match, he convinces her, and the sight is simultaneously absurd and magnificent. Taylor is a superb dancer, whenever we go dancing together I feel completely outclassed, but he makes me look good anyway. The same thing is happening with Rena. She’s already confessed that she hasn’t danced in years, and I’m sure never with a naked man on a crowded floor, but he guides her gently and expertly, and within a few minutes she’s obviously having a ball. I also notice that she smiles often at Taylor’s swinging cock. I’m feeling much more optimistic about the evening.

That leaves myself and Carl, neither of us are anything to write home about as dancing talents, but that’ s hardly the point of the activity. We’re familiar with one another’s bodies, we enjoy each other, and the basic affectionate and intimate moves we share are totally satisfying. There’s a general shortage of men in the room, and Megan and Hera are ‘forced’ to dance with each other, which they don’t appear to mind at all. The floor is as crowded as anyone could have hoped, and the atmosphere is peacefully joyful.

The initial partnerings only last for a couple of songs, and we instinctively began to switch up. As the evening deepens I’ve found myself dancing with Henri, Joe, and even Herakles, all of whom are great fun. I suddenly think I understand why Rena and Taylor are enjoying themselves so much that they’ve been the only couple not to switch, I find it incredibly stimulating for my naked and aroused body to be sharing movement, coordination, and teasingly erotic contact with a clothed man, even if he does look a little like a rumpled professor. There’s a bulge in his trousers, and I fight a sudden urge to rip off his clothes and grab that unknown cock, to explore it and conquer it. I wonder how Phoebe would react if I did. Something tells me she’d be a lot less shocked or upset than Herakles would.

Dancing, even slow dancing, can get fairly fatiguing after a while, and most of us take several breaks between partners. Sonia and Ray, of all people, seem to be spending the most continuous time on the floor, and they spend a lot of time dancing together. Taylor and Rena stay together even when they aren’t dancing, and their conversation appears intense and almost urgent at times. Yet when they begin to dance again, the look on Rena’s face is one of bliss. At one point, I find myself taking a break along with Mimi.

“Ray’s having a blast,” she smiles, “and so am I. I’m so glad we ran into Joe and Jo again, and I’m glad we met you in doing it.”

“You two are great dancers,” I say with admiration.

“Well, we’ve been dancing a little longer than we’ve been fucking, but we didn’t really start getting good at it until the last few years, because we spent so much more time fucking than we did dancing. Now that the fucking capacity is slowly fading, the dancing skills are slowly trying to make up for it.”

“It’s our daughter Anna that’s the real impetus for it, though,” she adds. “She and all her other spouses love to have their own dances when they get together, they’re a bit more imaginative, I think, than we were when we were their age. All we wanted to do was fuck and make porn videos. They grew up with porn, a lot of kids do now, even if they don’t live with nudist swingers, so it’s nothing exciting for them. But naked dancing, now that is really exciting and erotic. Ray and I are lucky that they let us old parents join in with them.”

As Mimi heads back to the dance floor, latching onto Henri again, Taylor walks over to me with Rena, hand in hand. She’s beaming.

“Tethys, I apologize if I was cold to you earlier,” she says as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me close. “I was so worried about my Megan, but I didn’t have to be. Taylor is such a good man, he answered all my questions and helped calm my fears. I told Megan I just wanted her to be happy, but I forgot that, in all the worry and stress over meeting everybody. But I’m the one with the problem, not Megan and not you. I trust her, she’s a good person, and you are good people too.”

“Besides,” she shrugs. “I tried to raise her with the same standards I grew up with, what I thought was right and wrong, but I was the one that was wrong. My standards didn’t make anybody happy, not me and not Megan. I can’t say that the morality I grew up with is the right morality, because it just made all of us miserable, even when we could adhere to it, which nobody really can all the time. If Megan is happy and finds love in this kind of life, then I know it’s the right life for her, and I should be happy to be part of it. I talked to Phoebe and Herakles about it a little, and they said the same thing. I hope I can be friends with them and with all of you, because you’re all good for my little girl.”

I hug her again, even tighter and closer now, making sure that as much of my flesh is pressed into her as possible.

“I would be honored to be your friend, Rena. Don’t be regretful. Life is hard, and you had to learn from experience. Megan is an exceptional girl, and a big part of that is because of your love and loyalty. You’ve been a wonderful mother, and that won’t stop just because she’s grown… or just because she likes to fuck all of us at once!”

Rena laughs. “I’m over that now. Everybody is so beautiful and so kind here, and when I see them making love… and fucking, I’m going to have to learn to say it comfortably… it’s all so joyful and seems like it’s the way it should always be. Sex… fucking… was never beautiful for me, I always wanted it to be, but I was disappointed every time. I didn’t want to communicate that to Megan, but I was so afraid that it would be the same for her. Now I see she’s found lovers that bring her joy, and that brings me joy too. If she wants me to watch her fuck, then I guess I can get used to it and be happy about it.”

“Rena,” I look at her seriously. “It’s not too late for you either. You’re not old. You’re not stuck with the kind of men that made you unhappy before. You can still find love, you can find good sex, and have a happy life for yourself too. I don’t know how we could help, but every one of us here in this room would like to, and I’ll bet eventually we could help you find the kind of sexual relationship that makes you happy.”

Rena smiles, and I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew. So far this wonderful tribe of loving perverts has self assembled, almost by accident. I’m not sure that qualifies me to actually and actively seek out and find someone worthy of Rena. But damn it, if I can, I will!

The music stops, and the dancers mill about into new groups, with the sound of multiple simultaneous conversations rising. “Hey everybody, is anybody here brave enough to do karaoke? Or do you have to be drunk to try it?” Joanne’s challenge calms the tittering of the crowd, or at least changes its tone.

“Yes!” shouts Mimi. “Ok,” shrugs Taylor. “Do it!” orders Sonia.

No rearrangement of the room is required. The laptop stand becomes the karaoke podium, the app is logged into, and the big screens on the wall become the visual for the singers and the guide for the rest of us to follow along with. There’s not much else to do but for the attendees to gather in a location that allows them to face the singers. And of course, refills on drinks need to come first. The drinks are mild, juices, water, soft drinks, and some sweet wine. This is not a beer or hard liquor crowd.

Nearly every published song in memory is recreated somewhere as a karaoke version, and for the remaining few that aren’t, there is software that suppresses the vocal track while retaining the primary musical background. The quality of all these efforts is somewhat uneven, but the songs that everyone knows and loves are represented perfectly well. Some can be played directly from the internet, some require a purchase agreement service, but Joe, and even more Joanne, have been doing this for a long time. Mimi tells me they used to host sex and karaoke parties in San Diego before they moved away. I had no idea such things existed, but if they want to restart the tradition here in Austin, I’m all in favor of it. As long as I’m not the one singing, of course.

Jo starts us off with a surprisingly good rendition of the old Michael Jackson hit, “The Way You Make Me Feel.” She’s got the rhythm, she hits the high notes, she sashays well, the hip checks are superb, and she has the perfect gravelly voice for – the Rod Stewart version. It’s wildly entertaining. The fact that she looks really great naked doesn’t hurt at all. She has us all singing along and swaying to each other during the chorus.



The way you make me feel

You really turn me on

You knock me off of my feet

My lonely days are gone


I find myself thinking “Rod Stewart actually could have pulled this one off!”

It’s a great start to the festivities, and we didn’t even have to get drunk to enjoy it. Even Rena is swaying, dipping and twisting, with a big smile on her face as we sing patches of the verses to each other with our fake microphones.

Next up is Taylor. I know what he’ll sing. He’s taken me to karaoke clubs a few times in the past, and while he has a fairly large list of songs that he chooses from, he nearly always sings his first one to me. He’s such a romantic, that’s one of the many reasons I love him. We have an ancient DVD from an old movie, well, not that old if it’s compared to ”It’s a Wonderful Life,” but it doesn’t seem to have set the box office on fire. Called “Pure Country,” it featured country superstar George Strait playing the role of, well, a country superstar, who’s tired of “The smoke, the lights, and the glitz” of his Hollywood style concerts, and just wants to play his country guitar and sing simple country love songs. It’s a bit campy, and every now and then we watch it when we’re in a weird mood. I have to admit the songs are sweet.

Taylor gets in front of the room, certainly without any smoke, lights, or glitz, and without the country guitar for that matter. Also, for the first time, he’s performing it without clothes. It should be interesting. What he does have, is the perfect tenor voice for singing it.



“Our love is unconditional,

We knew it from the start

I see it in your eyes,

You can feel it from my heart

From here on after

Let’s stay the way we are right now,

And share all the love and laughter

That a lifetime will allow”


No hip swinging, no prancing, no twirling. He just stands there, relaxed, cock flaccid, no showmanship, looks directly at me, and sings. And my heart leaps to my throat. If there’s anything that can make me rethink polyamory, it’s when Taylor sings me a love song. I’m such a sucker.

“I cross my heart

And promise to

Give all I’ve got to give

To make all your dreams come true

In all the world

You’ll never find

A love as true

As mine.”


Damn. I can’t say there’s not a dry eye in the house, but there’s not a dry eye in my face. There’s not a dry spot between my legs, either. It happens every time. Joanne is looking a bit weepy too. Rena is sniffling. Phoebe is beaming, while Megan, Hera, and Sonia look more like they’re smirking. They just don’t understand romance, I guess. Angela and Rick applaud politely, as do all the men.

As Taylor and I stand face to face, sharing an intense eye-locking moment, Megan unceremoniously inserts herself, grabbing Taylor’s cock.

“You’re such a romantic,” she says rather sarcastically, and pulls him away and out of sight. The confused look on Taylor’s face is precious.

“We’re next!” calls out Hera, and Henri finds his own cock clutched, as she leads him to the front of the room. He follows good-naturedly, as well as out of necessity, and our hostess Joanne just so happens to have a second microphone available. I don’t know how or when, but apparently Hera and Henri have already worked out a duet. He looks a lot more comfortable in front of the room than Hera does. It’s an entertaining thought that someone who doesn’t hesitate to ride this cock and get pounded in front of everyone, even her own mother, who feels no need to suppress her vocal public orgasms, looks so shy when she’s suddenly faced with the realization that she’s going to sing a song in public. In her nervousness, she doesn’t let go of Henri’s cock at all during the performance, although she does use it as a prop to punctuate her lines.

Henri obviously knows the song better than she does, Bobby McFarrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” I’ve never heard him sing before, but I’m not at all surprised that he does it well, since his speaking voice is so naturally musical. Henri does the main lines,

“Here’s a little song I wrote,

You might want to sing it note for note,”


And then Hera chimes in for the kicker,

“Don’t worry, be happy”

As she sing-song speaks the words, she lifts up Henri’s cock and points it at the audience like a group microphone. Henri takes it like a man.



“In every life we have some trouble,

But when you worry you make it double,”

“Don’t worry, be happy.”


Ok, no grammies here. But it’s great fun, and even more entertaining to see how Henri’s cock actually responds to the constant stimulation throughout the song, and is a legitimate half-mast by the time it’s done. Henri is obviously not worried, and he does look happy. Hera, on the other hand, looks relieved when it’s over.

I’m looking around, but I still don’t see Taylor and Megan.

“Alright, next is Sonia,” calls out Joanne. Sonia does strut. She does swing.

“Nice classics tonight,” she croons. “Anybody ready for something a little more contemporary?”

Of course we’re all going to cheer. What else can we do? The bar is being raised, and this might as well be the last song of the evening, because nobody else will come close. This is Sonia singing.

“I thought about doing one of my own songs, but it’s not published yet, it’s not set up for karaoke, I didn’t bring my band, and nobody bought tickets! But here’s one that’s going to be a big part of my stage show for my upcoming tour.”

I recognize the song immediately, she’s been playing it at Carl’s the last couple of Saturdays during our workout. It’s Janelle Monae’s “Make Me Feel,” and she, without a doubt does just that.

“Baby, don't make me spell it out for you

All of the feelings that I've got for you

Can't be explained, but I can try for you

Yeah, baby, don't make me spell it out for you”


She moves across the room, but now she’s not strutting, she’s not prancing, she’s not dancing or walking. She envelops it. We’re all a part of the landscape, and she is the tornado that lifts it sky high. She owns this song.



“It's like I'm powerful with a little bit of tender

An emotional, sexual bender

Mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better

There's nothin' better

That's just the way you make me feel

That's just the way you make me feel

So real, so good, so fuckin' real

That's just the way you make me feel

That's just the way you make me feel”


I’ll never be able to visualize anyone ever singing this song again as long as I live other than Sonia. And it must, it absolutely HAS to be performed naked. There’s no other way. But that’s part of the reason Sonia has to do it. Nobody looks as spectacular naked as she does.

I expect every cock in the room to be standing straight up, and every cunt to be leaking uncontrollably. Mine is.

Even Megan and Taylor are back, and looking starry-eyed. I notice that his cock really is in full flight deck mode.

We take another quick break for refreshments. We’re all pretty drained after that display.

Once we’re ready to go again, it’s Mimi who volunteers for the microphone. While not quite up to Sonia’s level of perfection, Mimi looks fantastic naked, especially considering she’s nearly sixty years old. Her cherubic face and smiling eyes compliment her beautiful frame perfectly, and her voice is very easy to listen to. The song she chooses is even more memorable.

“There’s a song by Billy Joel that meant a lot to Ray and I early in our relationship, and it still does,” she begins. “But this isn’t that one. For those of you who like to look at the screen on the wall and read the lyrics while you listen, don’t bother this time. The lyrics you’ll hear aren’t the ones on the screen.”

I recognize the music as it begins, Joel’s late eighties hit, “I Go To Extremes.” Definitely not the most romantic of songs. But it’s not Ray she’s singing it to, and she’s right about the, shall we say, adjustment in the lyrics.

Call me a nudist, call me a perv

Ask how I manage to work up the nerve

I like the feeling of sun on my skin

I like to air out my clit in the wind

Cold winter weather is my biggest fear

I wish that I could be naked all year

Someday I think that I will

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

There ain’t a part of me that’s left unexposed

And if I stand, or I fall

I’m wearing nothing at all

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

Back in the garden, working the land

If you see me you’ll see no farmer’s tan

Sex on the nude beach, coming in waves

That’s how I want to spend hot summer days

Fancy new blouse and nice skirt may look cute

But I feel best in my old birthday suit

Nothing fits quite like myself

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

There ain’t a part of me that’s left unexposed

If it’s in front or behind

It’s no place the sun doesn’t shine

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

Bask in the sunshine, dance in the rain

Feeling the breeze on my skin

Each time I do it I can’t wait to do it again

Freeing my body has unchained my soul

Loving the me that it shows

It’s crazy as fuck but it helps keep me sane

That’s why I go without clothes!

And if I stand, or I fall

I’m wearing nothing at all

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

You know I don’t know why I go without clothes

There ain’t a part of me that’s left unexposed

If it’s in front or behind

It’s no place the sun doesn’t shine

Darlin’ I don’t know why I go without clothes

I don’t know why, I don’t know why

Yes I know why, Yes I know why…

I don’t wear clothes

I don’t like clothes.


Her voice doesn’t sound at all like Billy Joel’s, and that’s a compliment. Her soft Asian accent combined with superb vocal control, high energy, a surprisingly professional-looking performance, and the very relatable subject matter, gets her a tremendous positive response. Even Sonia is bowing to her. Ray is grinning proudly, and both Joe and Joanne nod their approval.

“Mimi came up with that song about 20 years ago,” she says to the crowd. “I think the entire nudist community should adopt it as an anthem.”

“I’m sure Billy Joel wouldn’t mind,” Mimi laughs.

After the chatter dies down, Megan and Taylor present themselves. Like Hera and Henri earlier, her hand is firmly wrapped around his cock, but he’s not just half staff. He’s fully stiff and ready for action. Only Megan gets a microphone. This is going to be interesting, I think.

Megan lays Taylor down on his back, with his head towards the audience. Then she sits over him, and impales herself fully onto his cock. Once again I marvel at how much she’s changed in only a week. I look over at Rena, and her expression combines a certain amount of trepidation with the same curious expectancy the rest of us are feeling.

She slowly rides up and down on him in silence waiting for the music to spool up, the microphone in one hand, the other resting on his chest. He looks up at her, smiling.

“I’ve loved this song ever since I was a little girl,” she announces. “I never thought I’d be singing it like this, but I think this is how I’ll sing it from here until forever.”

The introductory music begins, soft, slow, and sensual. It’s Jason Mraz, “I Won’t Give Up.” The rotations and swirls of her hips, and the movements of her vagina around his embraced cock are as slow, soft and deliberate as the beginning of the song. Without stopping, she looks directly at him and begins to sing.

“When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

Well there's so much they hold

And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?”


On one hand it’s a relaxed, romantic view. But it’s also extremely erotically intense, and I feel my nipples electrified and my pussy soaking as the song, and her perfectly synchronized fucking of his passive form, goes on.



“'Cause even the stars they burn

Some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it”


The song builds, and her movements intensify. She’s now looking upwards, and it becomes a passionate anthem to her new life.

“And in the end you're still my friend at least we did intend

For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn

We had to learn, how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I got, and what I'm not

And who I am______”


At this line she’s pounding herself onto Ray’s crotch, but the extended note holds strong and steady, loud and powerful. All of us listen reverently, mesmerized, moved. I think we all know exactly what she’s saying.



“Well, I won't give up on us

God knows I'm tough enough

We got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it”


And Taylor finally can’t take any more. His jaw opens and clinches, his hips thrust upwards uncontrollably, his balls and shaft twitch, and he’s visibly shooting his cum deep inside Megan. Yet she doesn’t miss a beat. As cream dribbles out of her already sloppy opening, down Taylor’s shaft, and smears across his scrotum, she finishes calmly.

“I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up”


She sets the microphone down on his chest and takes a few deep breaths, then opens her eyes. Once again I feel teary, almost like sobbing. It was a beautiful, powerful experience. She leans down, kisses Taylor deeply on the mouth, and then stands and bows to the rest of us. She straightens up and spreads her arms outwards, still straddling Taylor’s hips, her quivering swollen clitoral hood hanging on to a single strand of white, thick, goopy ‘cumposite’ pleasure residue that dangles almost half way to her knees. It slowly releases creamy droplets from the end which drip down onto Taylor’s waist and belly. Then she steps over him and hands the microphone off to Joanne, who’s hand is shaking as she grasps it. She walks to the crowd to meet and hug her mother. Rena happens to be standing beside me.

“That was absolutely beautiful, sweetie. I’m so proud of you! I have learned so much tonight, but I don’t see you any differently than I did before. You’re the same beautiful and blessed woman you already were, but now you’ve found a way to embrace your true nature. I love that you have friends here.”

Hera, Herakles, and Phoebe approach to congratulate her.

“That was a sacred communion,” breathes Phoebe. You are one of the few chosen by the goddess. You and Hera are holy women, and I’m in awe of you!”

Finally, Sonia offers what may be the grandest compliment of all.

“Damn, girl, after tonight I think I know who of all of us here is the true artist!”

“I’ve wanted to sing and fuck at the same time ever since the first time Taylor fucked me,” she says dreamily, still breathing rather heavily. “And you inspired me too, Tethys, the way you so boldly walk around with a guy’s cum leaking out of your cunt and not caring who sees it. That’s so cool I wanted to try it too. It actually feels fantastic. I don’t want to even wipe it off anymore!”

Rena raises an eyebrow. “That’s wonderful, young lady, when you’re out in the yard or in the bathtub or over a tiled floor that you can clean. But not when you’re a guest over someone else’s carpet!”

“Oops!” Megan replies.

Nobody else volunteers to sing. We take another break, with a feeling that I hadn’t expected. We’ve been part of something extraordinary. This casual little nudist karaoke and pool party get-together feels more akin to a consecration, a baptism, a sanctification of restored life and a renewed capacity for love. At the moment, the way I can best express that love is to focus on Taylor, who inexplicably, and I’m sure momentarily, has been forgotten in the group fascination with Megan’s performance. He’s standing against the wall, a little dreamy-eyed himself, his cock returned to peaceful flaccidity, and with a thick smear of the same delicious substance that Megan is so carelessly wasting. Taylor’s residue doesn’t go to waste. It only adds up to a few drops, but I savor every one. His cock responds as quickly and as beautifully as I know it will, and I make a reservation for later.

Mimi comes over to give her encouragement, and she smiles lovingly as I lick my lips and take in the humid, hot, and glorious atmosphere of the room.

“If this is typical for naked karaoke I don’t know if my limited spiritual sense can endure it.”

“Nakedness itself is a spiritual act,” she reminds me. “Sex is sacred. When we fuck, we are sharing the blessings of beauty and joy and love. Orgasms are acts of worship. After all these years I still don’t know exactly who it is we’re worshiping, but whoever it is, she’s offering us a love that we’re able to open our hearts and accept. And it’s even better when we can share it with others who are capable of feeling and accepting that offering, even if they can’t quite articulate it.”

“Now I know where Phoebe got her religion from,” I laugh. There’s such a feeling of wholesome peace that soaks into my being for the rest of the evening. I have the urge to repeatedly hug everyone I encounter, and tell them how much they are loved. I’m not the only one. Phoebe, Herakles, and Rena walk up to me in the kitchen while I’m grabbing another snack.

“A lot of this is your doing,” says Rena with a smile. “I know I said earlier that everything I grew up believing was wrong, and at first I was extremely heartbroken knowing that. But now I’m happy. I’m happy because I know what was wrong earlier, and I know what’s right now. And now that Megan is doing what’s right for her, I’m free to do what’s right for me.”

“That is a real statement of courage, Rena,” says Herakles. “I think we’re all a little bit transformed tonight.”

“The Goddess gives us wisdom only when we’re able to accept it,” Phoebe muses. “But her love is always there waiting for us.”

“I know what to do now,” Rena continues. “Part of my mistaking prudery for morality was in seeing how beautiful and joyful Megan is, how wonderful her body, and your body too, Tethys, and these other kids’ bodies are, and being afraid to look at them because my old body doesn’t measure up. But with all the love everyone is sharing tonight, I see that it’s really not about how my old body looks, it’s about whether I’m willing to use it to show love and joy from myself. So I don’t feel ashamed any more, and I’m going to join the others here.”

With that, she quickly begins to remove her clothes, and casually tosses them into a corner behind her. Finally, naked, she looks on us proudly. She’s not a beauty in the classic sense, she hasn’t put a large amount of effort into staying in shape. Her belly is a bit round, her breasts sag, there are hummocks of fat and skin on her thighs. But nobody cares. She’s still beautiful and she still looks like she belongs. Like nearly everyone, I’d rather see her out of her clothes than in them. I give her the biggest, tightest full-body hug I’m capable of.

“Now go show Megan,” I tell her. “She’s already proud of you, you know.”

Phoebe and Herakles look at one another, then Rena, and then me. “She’s right you know,” says Phoebe.

“I had a feeling it would come to this eventually,” Herakles responds. “We’ve seen it coming ever since we realized Hera wasn’t going to outgrow it. I think tonight is what we needed just to make us see the obvious.”

“Now?” asks Phoebe. “Now,” he answers. Immediately they remove their own clothing, and toss it in a pile with Rena’s. It can all be sorted out later. I feel like laughing with joy, but I don’t want the laugh misinterpreted, so I just smile. Phoebe is a bit pudgier than Rena, and looks no less matronly naked than she did when dressed the part. And Herakles still looks like a rumpled academic. Yet they look infinitely better – happier, more natural, more genuine, more at home – than they did with their clothes on. I give them each a big warm hug, and and I’m gratified to feel Herakles’ thin cock swell as it gently and inadvertently, but fully willingly, slides across my belly. He’s not a handsome man, but he’s a good man, and I feel honored to be a source of pleasure for him.

“Let’s go show Hera!” squeals Phoebe. “She’ll be so proud!”

Later, things have calmed down quite a bit, but nobody is ready to leave yet. I’m in the midst of accomplishing one of my goals for the evening. I don’t fuck Henri nearly often enough, but now he’s at my mercy, sitting on the love seat at the edge of the living room, his hard and huge cock embedded deep within me as I straddle his lap facing him, my tits rubbing gently and happily up and down over his chest as I maintain my gentle rhythm. His size fills me up completely, I don’t think I could endure another millimeter of him. But at the moment he feels wonderful and this feeling of relaxed fullness is exactly what I’ve been looking for.

We’ve been conducting a pleasant, casual conversation with Mimi as we fuck, in part about fucking itself.

“Ray and I are the same way,” she’s saying. “I almost always fuck him with me on top, partly because I’m so small and I can control the sensations better. But that also lets me relax, and then we can have long conversations while his cock is inside me, which makes it easy to listen to what he’s saying. We’ll discuss literature, music, philosophy, science, and even politics, strange as it seems, while we’re fucking casually. And it’s so much fun to be able to chat with friends while I’m fucking. I can’t explain it, but we’ve always been that way. That’s why I’m so happy you two don’t accuse me of being in the way.”

“Not at all, this is fun,” says Henri. “It makes the sex feel more like a natural part of our social life, rather than something we have to escape for.”

“Exactly,” Mimi agrees. “And you know what else is fun to do while you’re fucking? And it’s best to do when you’re in a position like you two are now.”

“What’s that?” I ask. “Eating!” she answers. “Are you hungry? I can go grab some snacks and feed you while you fuck. I really enjoy doing that, or people doing it for me.”

She leaves momentarily to find us some snacks from the kitchen. I’m enjoying this fuck a lot, there’s no pressure for an orgasm, no need to “finish,” just the leisurely enjoyment of the greatest sensations that nature has equipped us for.

Mimi returns, and hand feeds us while we fuck and talk. It’s exquisitely friendly and casual, yet intensely intimate. There are sighs, moans, giggles, laughter, and even insights. A few minutes later, Ray arrives to join the conversation.

“Is this person bothering you two?” He asks in mock accusation.

“Not at all,” Henri retorts. She’s actually helping to sustain us in our pleasure, and she’s even adding to it by her presence.”

“Doesn’t he have have a golden tongue?” I smile at both of them. “In more ways than one! His cock is kind of a precious resource too.”

“I’m totally sincere,” Henri insists. “This wife of yours, Ray, is a blessed angel, and she enhances any situation, sexual or mundane.”

Ray chuckles, and wraps his muscular arm over Mimi’s shoulder. “She may be a blessed angel to you,” he looks lovingly at his wife, “but she’s always a woman to me.”

“That’s the song!” Mimi laughs.



--Finis

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