Truck Guy - Beach Shower free porn video

There are three things you have to know about us for this story.

One is that I am kind of big; not fat, but barrel-chested big. Folks call me a bowling ball; I am 5'8" but I weigh about 210 pounds with a barrel chest (almost a "medical condition") that is a genetic gift of my ancestors - both grandfathers showed the same look at my age. I'm in my 30's, but I can beat my high school weight lifting records, which still stand. I am not a weightlifter, but I keep fit.

The second thing is that my wife Erin and I are distant (third) cousins. There is no i****t, one of my grandmothers was a first cousin to one of Erin's grandmothers; the common relative is their grandfather. As k**s we did not know about the relationship until I was in fourth grade, when our parents met at a PTA function. We attended the same grade school but went to different high schools because her family moved.

The third thing is that we call each other husband and wife, but our deep dark secret is that we are not really married. During our teen years Erin, her sister Becca and I went back and forth between being just "kissing cousins" and being "girlfriend - boyfriend." Finally in our mid-20's the romantic feelings between Erin and I sparked into something more so we made the decision that we wanted to be together. We did "full disclosure" and talked to folks. When pressed we recollected how Albert Einstein married a woman who was a cousin in both sides of the family - pretty smart huh? Our parents were okay with it. Our church was okay with it. The county clerk was okay with it. We planned a nice wedding.

Two weeks before the big day, Rich (my tax guy) asked if we had considered the tax consequences. Of course we didn't, we were in love! I have passive income from inherited partnerships. Most of the profits are reinvested; for tax purposes I show 100% of the income I earn but I only get 30% or so in cash. Taxes eat most of that. Erin has inherited royalty income. When we roughed out a married joint return it was ugly, the nasty tax bite meant we needed another good paying job just to pay the added taxes!

Rich - a Rolling Stones fan - said he sees it all the time in marriages where both spouses earn good incomes. "Married filing jointly" is great for one middle-class income or two low incomes. But not for couple who are both earning well, plus unearned income was a killer.

We went ahead with the wedding ceremony so the relatives were happy, the witnesses even signed the papers. But we never filed the papers, so we are not really married. Only the minister knows the truth. Think of it, when was the last time you had to prove you were married? It doesn't happen. We did have a bunch of papers (Power Of Attorney) drawn up for medical and such.

We never plan on having k**s, Erin was born with a condition and had an operation when she was young. But otherwise we live as a normal couple.

We have always been frugal, living on our wages and letting our investments grow. It helps that we both like our jobs; I drive a truck and Erin is a partner in a nursing collective. We have a reasonable home, drive sensible vehicles, avoid extravagant vacations, go to budget theaters, etc. We are now both in our 30's and have enjoyed our seven-year anniversary.

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Chapter 1. The Beach

Like with many couples, our sex drives did not match, and they changed constantly. When we married I had, on average, a stronger more frequent drive. The difference is gradually shrinking, we figured it will flip before we hit 40. The fluctuations within an given month? That will be with us always.

Our two brightest sexual memories were some we consider semi-public. One was in our late 20's, we made love at 2 AM on the side of the road, parked in a SUV, because we were both feeling horny during a long night drive. The second was in our 30's when we made love outside, in a large yard at night, when we were house-sitting. Erin was semi-opposed to both ideas at first, but she realized that was force-of-habit. She really enjoyed them once we got started, and she appreciates the memories even more today. The yard fuck under the stars was especially memorable; once she got into it (or, more accurately, once I got into her) she became insatiable and wanted to do every position we knew and some she had seen in books. She was also loud. She drained me three times over about 4 hours, required my oral service in between erections and ending with her riding me during a truly glorious sunrise.

Early in our marriage I used erotic books and stories I wrote to "cover the shortfall" in our drives. Erin had her own female-oriented sources of erotic-romantic material. We knew and accepted these. At that time our tastes in erotic material did not overlap.

Once I got on the web (dial up) I could use tags to discriminate among the stories I read. i****t, BDSM, LGBT and IR didn't do anything for me. I found many of the hottest short scenes were in cheating and group sex. But the stories that grabbed me for hours were the drawn-out careful dance of a well written Voyeur/Exhibitionism erotic story, where lovers or strangers found new thrills and freedom under the sun or the moon or the eyes of strangers. I thought the best was a detached common experience, these could range from two people watching each other masturbate on balconies across the street to group events at beaches or nude cruises. My current favorite involves a "just started dating" couple who each went their own way at a weekend beach orgy, coupling with strangers while the other watched. They both did acts they had not imagined. Then they spent the night together, reliving the hottest memories.

Erin and I both moved to the internet when high-speed became available. (Our community lagged in this.) Recently we started writing stories together, for personal amusement and foreplay.

One story I wrote early on was a couple at a 'clothing optional' tropical beach resort for a week. A rule prohibited sex anywhere outside while the sun was visible. During the trip the couple met three other couples they got along with. Some of the group disrobed completely the first day. Others took longer. By the third day the husband was overjoyed to watch his wife and a new male friend, naked on adjacent beach blankets, sharing an enthusiastic conversation about erotic stories they had both read. Both showed evidence of physical arousal as they talked. Being where others could see made the conversation more intense and multi-level, they liked the chance to see somebody different. My story was erotic but not sexual beyond each night's final exhibition, where some couples made love with their partners after the sun went down. Couples would do it or watch others as the mood took them. The watchers took their inspiration to the bedroom. By mid-week everybody was doing it, fully nude, with their partners or others on the beach at twilight. For the last 30 hours two engaged couples swapped partners, on the beach and in the bedroom, as a final fling before their wedding.

One day Erin found this story on a thumb drive and read it with her now more-open mind. She is naturally shy, but it worked so well that she read it straight through, not counting three breaks for "exhausting" self-pleasure.

Erin is in great shape for her age, plus she has become confident about her body. That night we talked about my story. We knew that tropical nude beaches existed. But the "bonus" in the story was the way the couples got along as friends from the start. Real life isn't like that, the random factor was the people you might meet. For a nude beach vacation to work for us, there would have to be compatible people. That was not assured, so an expensive vacation trip to a real nude beach someplace was not worth our investment. It seemed the fantasy would stay a fantasy. Still, she was willing to consider a closer and less expensive option for inspiration - if we could find one.

Her logic was that a cheap crapshoot was better than an expensive crapshoot. I agreed.

A few weeks later I saw a blurb about a new private beach opening nearby in the Spring. The entire area - hundreds of acres including three man-made lakes - was a private development called "Sun Days." There was a master plan for the area, and they had reached the stage where the residents supported a clothing-optional beach for themselves. For various reasons this Spring the public was invited to use the beach on a limited basis; the intent was to eventually (3 to 5 years) form a private club, a resort and also enhance the value of the real estate.

It January when I mentioned the beach, we were almost snowbound. Erin hates snow and ice and cold. I knew she would enjoy this new, low key private nude beach about 90 minutes from our home. They would open to the public on Friday-Saturday-Sunday weather permitting. They carded (18 and over) and charging a nominal fee for the first few visits; after that you got a membership. Part of the idea was to keep a "friendly adult atmosphere" that would attract people to invest in the project. Drunkenness and public sex were not allowed, the village police manned a booth at the site. It seemed perfect.

Erin asked me why this idea was on my mind all of a sudden. I reminded her of her interest in my old story, plus our two nights under the stars, "I think it could be good for us, like those nights. We grew closer then... and if we had those feelings at the beach it is close enough so we could bring them home. We might also make new friends." I also said it was taking baby steps instead of investing in a giant leap. That made sense to her.

She agreed with the memory but was not convinced about the beach, because public sex was not allowed. I asked, "Would you want a beach that did allow public sex right off the bat?" She saw the point.

I mentioned that the public was not allowed on other nights. Property owners, and eventually resort guests and "prime club members" had access when the rules were more liberal and the population more responsible because they were invested. I heard there were plans to include a "sex beach night" when only naked couples would be admitted.

As a plan that made sense to her. We both saw where I was reading something into the situation, but it was reasonable and we were just taking a small step. It made a lot more sense then a crap-shoot expensive trip to an established nude beach somewhere.

Finally on a cold, windy rainy day in March Erin had enough of a winter that refused to end; she was dreaming about some sun. She needed a focus for mental sanity so she we started making plans for some time at Sun Days beach. I knew she was "in" when she started looking for a nicer, briefer swimsuit and coverup; she was giving herself permission to imagine and anticipate.

She had one condition: I had to promise her I wouldn't pressure her to get naked. She said that was her decision and it was not likely to happen soon. She was okay if I "went native." I knew that if the mood was right she would eventually relax naked. Also, she said she did not want to be crowded, we would leave if we could not find some "peace for us." We were not going to be isolated, but we both like peace and quiet at the beach.

Five weeks later there was a Saturday that looked perfect weather-wise. The place had just opened the previous Sunday and it rained Friday so we thought word had not spread. We did not expect crowds. We packed our blanket and drove to the beach.

When we parked I put my Hawaiian shirt and Erin put her button-front dress in the trunk; underneath I wore surf shorts and Erin had a modest two-piece outfit under a cover-up. I had been careful not to express any interest in her choice of swimwear. There was the parking lot, then a cluster of shacks including food stands, the information booth and rest rooms. The section of the beach near the entrance had the most people, but I can't say it was packed. There were signs for a bikini contest (topless and conventional) being held, but it was not too crowded. We could see a couple of hundred yards down the beach where the crowd thinned out.

Along the top of the beach was an concrete path separating the grass from the sand. The path made it easy to walk, we did not have to navigate around the beach blankets. As we walked along the path there we saw some people on the beach who had swimsuits on and some folks were completely nude. The majority of the women were topless. Erin turned away when we walked close to a naked couple on a blanket - in such cases the guy was usually aroused (full but not erect) and she didn't want to see that. (PDAs while naked were not allowed.)

We walked until the crowd thinned out, then started looking for a spot. When we spotted a patch of sand between two dunes, with space for only our blanket, we settled down. There were 4 other blankets within about 25 yards; the two closest to the water had three nude and two clothed people, but because of the dunes there was a visual barrier. So we spread our blanket and enjoyed the sun.

We had a great afternoon under the sun that was essentially alone, and it was great first trip. People walked by, but they always chose to walk on the path or at the water edge; nobody was walking in the sand. So we had some privacy, nobody walked close to our blanket all afternoon.

Erin was amused when I got naked quickly. After we were there for an hour or so she felt comfortable enough to remove her top. There was so little foot traffic, and those that did go by were focused on getting someplace, so nobody was sparing more than a casual glance at her bare boobs. She did share a smile when a couple of topless women her age went by. Freedom was nice!

When we got too hot we splashed around in the water. Erin is a pretty good swimmer and she went about 50 yards in each direction. This early in the season the water was too cold to stay in, but the short dips we took were refreshing. Also, while in the shallow water Erin chatted with each of the women who had their blankets closest to us. It seemed there was a convention: "blankets are private unless invited, shallow water is for conversation." We appreciated it.

Mostly we relaxed and took in the sun. It was hotter then predicted and the bright sun helped Erin burn out the memory of a winter that was long and rough, which had lasted longer than usual. Basking in the sun she eventually became kitten-like. Horny. I knew nothing would happen here, she does not work that way. But she was glad for the idea, and was warming up to more visits.

She conceded that I was right about the beach. Following her own urges, plus showing a little appreciation for me, the last thing we did before we packed up was that she turned on her belly with my hand underneath her. Then she invited my fingers to move down along her belly and beyond, to work their naughty way below her swimsuit waistband and into her juicy pleasure valley. I could feel her appreciation, she was oozing her fluids nicely and cooed with appreciation at my arousing touches.

All-in-all it was a good day for sun-adjusting attitudes. If I felt a little disappointed that she didn't get nude, I must admit that getting her there was all I reasonably expected, her going topless was a bonus plus I got to enjoy feeling her up as both her juicy "thank you" for the idea and as an IOU for when we got home. Nobody bothered us, that had been one of my concerns but the beach 'vibe' was laid back and relaxed - outside of where the athletic types clustered for volleyball and tether-ball games.

The subtle attention she got from others was a source of some satisfaction; Erin looked a decade younger than her age and was attractive. Some folks gave her an appreciative look but she was left alone. My wife's great day was obvious in the way she walked back after we packed up. Her swimsuit top and coverup stayed packed in our bag as we walked on the path back towards the entrance.

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Chapter 2. The shower

About 100 yards from the main entrance there was a side path ending in a one-way gate that was a short cut to the parking lot. This was arranged so it was not obvious from the lot or when walking outward, but when walking back it was clear. A few yards up the side path was a cinder block building on a concrete slab with a sign that said "Shower." Further up the side path we could see where two more side paths branched off, signs said they led to restrooms and an open picnic area that was shaded with mature trees.

Erin had gotten her hair wet while swimming. Also, she felt wet and sticky and yucky from the afternoon in the sun and the water. So she was drawn towards the shower.

When we got to the shower entrance we saw it was crude, coed (it was a nude beach), and provided no privacy at all; the entire inside was an undivided space. The entrance was basically an opening in the wall the size of two doors. There was no door. While the building was positioned at an angle from the path, passersby could see in if they looked. The opening was flanked by two crude sinks on each side. The wall opposite the entrance had about 10 "rainfall" shower heads which were directly above the person using them. All the plumbing was exposed for easy service. There were fixed wooden benches along the two side walls, with a few clothing hooks dotting the wall above the benches. To allow air circulation the steel roof was suspended a foot or two above the 10-foot wall, the overhang hid this from outside. Sounds could pass freely. Skylights in the roof allowed light, there were also bare bulbs which I assumed kicked in as the sunlight dimmed.

As she stood at the entrance I could see Erin's dilemma. She wanted a shower, it was a compulsion. But she was used to nice showers with tile and fluffy towels and privacy and ambiance. This didn't even have soap. Washing herself where anyone going past could see her? That was a huge hurdle.

The main concrete path was considered "beach" so people could be nude or topless. The grass and the side paths were "above the path" where people were supposed to be covered. However, I saw a few topless women on the side path, the area had a "feeling" of being part of the beach. Especially with the rest rooms, women were not going to put on their top just for that.

The shower was clearly "above the path" but a sign indicated nudity was allowed inside the shower.

Erin stood thinking for a bit; she was clearly going back and forth about the shower. At least it looked clean. It was new and might be unfinished. There was nobody inside, we could see that plain enough. The floor was dry and nothing was dripping.

I mentioned that because of the dry floor, I had a feeling this shower didn't get used much. But I stopped short of making any suggestions.

She asked "what if someone walks in?" This implied showering nude, even if she was only washing her hair and her torso. But the obvious question didn't register with either of us. Isn't that interesting? She thought "it is a shower so I must be nude." I thought, "she is just going to rinse her hair" so her swimsuit bottom would stay on, and she would add the coverup after she dried.

Of course, with my mindset, I was not sure why there would be a problem if somebody walked in.

In terms of somebody "just walking by" when they were outside the door, I pointed out that she would be in shadow, on the far side of the building, while anybody passing by would be in the sun, so they couldn't see much. She agreed.

After a moment I said I would stand outside the door. If a guy tried to enter or leer at her I would start a conversation to slow him up. (In my experience, leering guys don't like company.) She was not going to be long. I said nothing about her being naked, because I promised not too and with Erin it is better to err on the side of caution. I'm a strong enough physical presence to keep most guys away just with body language. Except troublemakers, of course.

"Girls are okay to come in, right?" I asked.

"Oh yes, it could be an emergency." When she said that I realized there were no mirrors; that credited the "it wasn't finished" theory, so a door could show up next week. Maybe a room divider wasn't too much to hope for as well.

She also said couples and mixed groups could enter. It is not fair to stop them, and more women would be her best protection. Any guy with a girl who stares at Erin is in trouble with his girl.

I took position at the entrance, with my back to the shower, watching for anyone coming. So I did not see Erin take her swimsuit bottom off and toss it on one of the benches before she started her shower.

I stood just outside the entrance, in the shadow of the building. When I glanced inside and got a quick look of Erin standing at a shower - nude. The water was on as I yelled, I was going to say she had no soap so she didn't need to take off her swimsuit. But with the shower running the space was very noisy and the building echoed so she did not hear. I must say she looked hot from the back like that. Of course, most women do.

I stepped further away from the door so I could hear anybody coming - the shower was very noisy. I took a step or two toward the corner which was closest to the beach and the side path, on the reasonable assumption that anybody wanting a shower would come from that direction.

It paid off in just moments, I heard a bunch of voices coming my way. They sounded mostly female but I was not positive, so I stepped around the corner to see three groups walking up the side path. The first group was 3 women who looked thirty-something, they were wearing what looked to me like pricey fashion bikinis with a fancy design. Next came 6 females that looked around 20, all wearing the same type of bikini but in different colors; the bikinis were an asymmetric design exposing one-shoulder and one-hip. The third group was 3 women, maybe mid twenties, all with lush, curvy (but not fat) figures and large tits; think of some of the more generously proportioned Playboy models, or that "Bride Of Chuckie" actress in her prime. That was when I remembered the bikini contest.

The thing about the third group was they were wearing the tiniest bikini bottoms I had ever seen! The waistband was a fishing line. The front of was not the typical "V" but a single point of contact with the waistband. The fabric then tapered out forming a tight little "pouch" that was stuffed with labial lips; you could see all because the material was like a sheer stocking. They were different colors: neon red, neon yellow and a neon pink. Two of the girls had short cut-off t-shirt tops that were barely decent - the bottoms of their breasts were exposed. The third girl had a regular bikini top which she was pulling off when I saw her, she could not get the straps right.

I'm a guy, so I looked. I like all tits, big and small, I am just that type of guy. These were large but perfectly shaped. Maybe even "very large."

The topless girl's tiny bikini bottom was neon pink, she really drew the eye. She was playing with the straps of her top, in "full headlight" mode with her eyes focused on the straps while she was about 15 feet from me. She absent-mindedly walked straight towards me without looking. We almost bumped. I admit that when faced with those headlights I froze like the proverbial deer in a spotlight. She saw me looking but did not seem offended, she was more frustrated with her top. After a moment I averted my eyes. She kind of smiled apologetically at me; she was supposed to be covered up at this point, so she was at fault. She knew what she was showing, and I imagine very few guys didn't look.

Still, I had averted my eyes, and she noticed so as she stepped around me she said, "My, a real gentleman... why didn't I meet you sooner?"

"I'm here with my wife."

"Wives can look too, I don't mind." The way she said the words suggested my wife could do a lot more than just looking. "Say, Mr. Gentleman, could you help me?" She held up her hands and I saw the problem - she (and her friends) wore these huge decorated fingernails so she could not work the clasp on her top. That was why the other two wore t-shirts.

Well, I am a gentleman, so I gingerly helped her without trying to grab an extra feel or anything. I had to get behind her. The bikini bottom in back was pretty much nonexistent. The gusset, which was just like a strip of binding tape, stopped just above the rosebud where it became a vertical fishline. Unlike her slit and clit arrangement in front, her rosebud was not visible, but her whole crack above the rosebud was. There was a dot of neon pink material where the vertical and waist fishing lines met, it attracted the eye.

The clasp on the top was easy but I wanted to make sure the adjustment was right so she played with the straps. It was good and she thanked me.

We shared a few words as we kept walking up the side path. It seems the trio had won a bikini contest: females under 25, topless. The skimpy "show all" bottoms were handmade.

Then she asked, "where is your wife?"

I looked at the entrance to the shower just in time to see a short guy in a swimsuit coming from the other direction turn into the shower.

I excused myself.

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Chapter 3. Backstory

I need some critical history about Erin before I go on. In high school (two classes), nursing school (three classes), and at her first job (at the lunch table) my wife was exposed to some feminist views that were stronger than the mainstream. All preached the same militant tune: "my body, my choice!"

Each of the classes spent at least a month looking at fairy tales, traditional stories, literature and popular current authors to find the "subtle chauvinist themes." The first example they all jumped on as "especially insidious" was the strong "white knight" who rescued the weak "helpless maiden" and was, by implication, awarded her maidenhead and her submissive servitude as wife/drudge/sexual receptacle for the rest of her "oh so happy" life.

As a parallel point, these people preached that most men, even the good ones, were naturally aggressive "knights" who were geared up for conflict. They causing many problems on both a large and small scale. Women as a group had to actively "turn from" aggression to make the world and the home a better place. They did recognize exceptions, they always mentioned defending a c***d in danger as a justified reason for aggression - assuming righteous language and moral examples were not sufficient. Man and women had to defend c***dren.

Erin's supervisor at her first job, who had graduated with a degree in Woman's Studies, was particularly keen on connecting the "white knight" theme with fidelity in marriage. ("Knights always carry a lance at the ready, what do you think that stands for?")

The upshot was that we had some non-traditional vows. One very specific vow I took in private, before Erin plus her like-minded bridal attendants and friends, was to NEVER insult my wife's "glorious independent womanhood" by acting like a "white knight" on my own initiative. That meant I could never interfere physically in any way unless I saw that Erin was "physically resisting and was being overcome" or she summoned me. As I said, this was a specific vow between us, and with Erin it is best to err toward caution.

Now, many guys would say, during what is coming next, that I should have blown off that vow and resorted to threats and v******e. But those same people would be the ones to condemn a woman for breaking her vows, especially conventional vows like fidelity. Damn all hypocrites!

As for fidelity, Erin and I made a deliberate consensual choice NOT to vow fidelity, even though we both intended to live that way. She said, "You are a man, I can well imagine where you might stray if there was a good reason. A dying friend in need of comfort perhaps? Or a relative's wife who needs a sperm donor? You would make a good baby I am sure, and one could argue that you even have an obligation to pass along your excellent genes since I can't."

I appreciated that vows are more important than intentions or personal wants, thus I was very serious about keeping my vows no matter how I was tested.

Some of Erin's friends opposed "symbols of ownership" like wedding rings; certainly we could give and accept such things, but wearing them was optional, because they were always "free with our bodies." Erin stopped wearing her rings after her 30th birthday, except for family occasions; the diamond and mounting she picked out was great at shredding nice coats, favorite sweaters and other garments. I never took my ring off - I never saw a reason to.

I will admit that I got something out of this: my wife never opposed what I looked at or read in books or on the computer. Or what I did while reading. As long as I tidied up when I was done she was okay.

There is one related point. Early in her life, long before these well-meaning friends were involved, Erin spent 1st through 6th grade in a Sunday School teaching a pacifist slant of Quaker philosophy. From a very young age she was programmed against v******e in all acts. The teachings stuck.

They taught her that one should not fight even to save the life of a loved one. However, as an adult Erin's rejected this most extreme view. For example, fighting to save a stranger's c***d from injury was okay. But for herself, daily life was more about "turning the other cheek." For example, given a choice between cutting off an asshole driver who ignored her lane-change signal for an exit, or driving an extra mile and using the next exit, Erin would drive the extra mile.

I had not reached Erin's level of peace with the universe.

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Chapter 4. Aussie Jack

I looked at the shower entrance just in time to see a short guy in a swimsuit coming from the other direction turn into the shower.

At a glance the guy looked younger, maybe in his early 20's. He was short and skinny, I'm guessing about 5 foot 4 and 130 pounds, wiry with a cocky walk, he was wearing a really skimpy swimsuit - maybe a Speedo. Thanks to my "encounter with the hot pink bikini" I was out of position and had no chance to stop him.

I thought my "nude beach" fantasy was ending before it started.

I moved to to the entrance and looked inside. The guy threw his stuff on a bench and dropped his swimsuit almost without breaking stride. He could not help but see Erin naked, with her back to him. Her boobs were evident. I thought it was a great view of her figure and the most inspirational view of her charms. The rear view aroused males long before there were men. Once he had his suit off I saw his cock looked stiff, maybe 40% hard. He had no reason to question her presence as this was a coed shower. Or maybe it was what he was looking for; he could have been waiting on the other side of the building, listening for the shower to start. For all I knew he might have been peeking around the corner.

Erin was rinsing her hair so she was effectively blind and with her noisy shower running she did not know she had company.

I just stood at the entrance and considered my choices. If I moved to my wife I would be guilty of a "white knight" violation and I had no doubt that would be bad for me. If I did not move I had to trust my wife to signal me if she wanted me. Plus, maybe the guy was an gentleman and I would not be needed. I decided to watch from the entrance.

Of the ten shower-heads along the wall, Erin had picked the second one from one end. The cheeky bastard went to shower-head right next to Erin, effectively blocking her in the corner.

She noticed when he turned on the water, but she didn't react right away; perhaps she thought it was somebody I let in, like another girl. She was in full profile to him. He had the shower on, but that was just cover, he was 100% focused on taking in her slim figure (perfect full side boob!) at close range. He did not even try to be subtle about it, he stared. So, not a gentleman. Because she was still working on her hair, my wife did not know.

After a few moments she happened to look in his direction. That was when she realized that he was a male who was boldly growing his erection based on what he saw of her body. Erin was not pleased. But I imagined she was less pleased with me, since he was only doing what came natural. I saw it all in profile, she was surprised, displeased, and upset. But "turn the other cheek" Erin did not get dramatic, she just returned to her business. She turned her body slightly away from him to put a hip between his eyes and her shaved cleft.

The guy boldly smiled back at her. Since he could see her breast easily, he focused on that. From the start the guy played it like she should not be surprised to have his company. Even if he was naked and erect company. With what looked like an u*********s motion he gave his cock a pull.

I could not hear what was said, but as soon as he opened his mouth I knew the type - he thought he could talk his way through any situation to get what he wanted. I could guess what he wanted. He wouldn't act offended or entitled for now, his body language stayed all friendly-like and I imagined his voice was the same. Erin told me his first words were, "Excuse me Miss..., this is a coed shower so I decided to wash up a bit. My name is Jack. Nice to meet you." He let go of his dick and held out his hand to shake.

The nice words did not avail him of a nice response. Erin and I both believe that actions speak louder than words; we knew why he took the shower right next to her.

She did not shake his hand, instead she moved to cover herself a little more by holding her arm to hide her breast and turning so she was not in profile but at an more oblique rear angle. She did not take her eyes off him, and while her mouth was not saying anything, her look and body language were clear and as cold as could be; without sound they yelled "GET AWAY!"

He was deaf to her body language. He had turned to face her directly and had offered his hand. His dick had stiffened, I could see it was now sticking up, it was about vertical so it was close to 100% and pointed at her. Also, he kept handling his dick.

Erin told me that, rather then try to address her obvious reaction, everyone's friend Jack (that was his name) began bitching about some girl wearing only a ultra tiny "hot pink" bikini bottom who was showing these great tits to him all afternoon. When Erin paid him no attention he gave up the pretense, turned down his shower, and then turned down Erin's, so she could hear him. I could also hear most of what he said.

It seemed that this busty girl got topless with her two friends as soon as she arrived. In his mind he had chatted her up real good for a "long time" and the girls put on a little show for him that got him all worked up, but despite his attentions she would not show him her pussy or let him apply some sun cream to her body.

It seemed that he had a critical need for him to see some pussy very, very soon.

"There were some old biddies on the beach all naked, but a young guy like me don't want to see that, I won't get it up for a week if I do. This topless sheila was smashing, good enough so a glance at her snatch would last me a couple of nights of sweet dreams, but would she give a guy a look at paradise? No! The BITCH!"

He went on to say that this girl and her crowd had just left. He implied that he had planned to "rub some of his frustrations out" alone here in the shower. But of course, that would be rude with her present, it was just common courtesy to share! Fair dinkum! So they should help each other in their hour of need. To hear him say it this seemed a reasonable offer.

His proximity to my wife, who was naked, seemed vulnerable, and seemed to be deliberately showing him part of her naked ass, plus his realizing how in shock Erin was at her luck over being naked next to a naked stranger, had his dick to full attention. It was sending urgent messages to the brain.

She kept looking at his dick with near-terror. But to his mind she kept looking at his dick... and his brain said that meant they were both excited by it! He figured good things were coming his way.

I was pissed off enough that I wanted to charge in and do my "Hulk! Smash!" imitation. I outweighed the guy by about 80 pounds of muscle. All I needed was a sign from Erin. Why wasn't she giving me a sign? It made no sense. Later we talked about her Sunday School teachings, in part she had reverted to her younger mindset so she did not want to be the source of v******e.

Erin's face and upper body got so red I was worried. Well, if she did pass out I would have leave to give this little shit what he purely deserved. But until then, my "white knight" vows held me where I was, standing in the doorway.

I must also admit that seeing my wife's extreme embarrassment got BOTH dicks in the area a lot harder. I don't know why, maybe it was a primitive, competitive response of the male brain to another male.

The presumptuous little shit finally turned off both showers; the room carried sound so I could all hear the conversation. The slimy bastard had settled on his approach for his next attack on my wife's resolve. I could hear a hint of an Aussie accent when he said, "I must complain that I am being taken advantage of here. You've a fine gander at my best points, standing at attention for close inspection. But I got no reciprocity from you. You are acting like your fine naughty bits are too good for a chap to see. You can give us a little turn, can't you? Give Jack a fair gander. It is just basic fairness. You believe in fairness, don't you? You are an American, so of course you do."

"NO! No, I won't. Leave me alone."

"Yes, you can do it," he said, in a very reasonable, almost hypnotic tone. "It is easy and fair besides. It is so unfair not to, you have to know that. I just want a look, a sweet look." The accent had thickened a bit, and I must admit he was very easy to listen to.

But Erin stayed as she was. She did not turn. She did not move her arm. She was giving him as little as possible, which meant in his mind that she was denying him as much as possible.

His body tensed, I thought for sure he was going to do something physical. But he was not ready to give up on his slimy Sith Lord mind tricks.

He had some skill at this, his next statement was like a MIRV in the way it pushed a bunch of Erin's female buttons with one shot. "Look, I'm a guy so I got needs, simple needs... I really need to see a good pussy today, and the only girls showing the goods outside are chubbies or ancients so I can't see nothing I can work with. I gotta have good memories so I can relieve the stuff that is building up inside me delicates, you must know all guys have to. Mom cried as she told me that we men of her bloodline had a harder time than most, we needed more frequent looks at new sweet pussy. It is nature, our cross to bear as we trudge the path of life. We are all the way the Maker intended. I just want to get a good look at your pussy from the front, so I can do my business tonight with the nicest image in mind. It's only fair, since you are staring so hard at my beautiful rigid dick. I bet you are going to be thinking a lot about Little Jack Standingup when you are sweating up your sheets alone tonight, won't you? Oh yes, very nice stuff to see here. You are a fox. You can't help it, that is how things work. It is basic biology. Attractive people have to help each other through tough times, you know that in your bones. You believe that, you are a fair person. Plus, you are hot! Damn hot! Hottest I have seen today on the whole beach, even besting the busty cow in the tiny hot pink see'em knickers!! Plus, you have class and style!"

Yeah, listening to that trainload of kangaroo excrement I knew this guy thought he could talk his way to anything. I am a physical guy so I despised guys like Jack, talkers who never seemed to do any work but always seemed to get the credit. Well, I bet I knew something they couldn't talk around: a busted jaw! Which is what he might have if I got a hand on him.

"Don't say those things!!" she said. "Not ANY of them." But he picked up on her response, he heard her tone as saying she did not fully mean it.

He still was not out of roo poop, he had a another load. "Oh come on, you are hot, you know it's true," he said, playing the odds and picking the item he was sure she would not refute. Then he sweetened the load. "What are you, 25 or 26? I have done choice chicks your age. Fine women... please... help save a wretch like me."

(I almost threw up at those sacred words, this living sack of excrement had no limits and no shame.)

It did not work, Erin rejected it all because his essential nature and low desires were obvious.

He also saw it was not working, so he crossed a line. If words would not turn her to him, still she did not run or go crazy, so he figured he had to step it up. He reached out with both of his hands to grab her upper arms. With a firm grip he turned her shoulders, and her body followed. All was revealed for a second.

Seeing that, my heart was pounding like a drum. This was the woman I called my wife, why didn't she release me? I felt like my whole torso was near exploding. I was sure that contact would cross the forbidden line, releasing Erin to run towards me. I mentally prepared myself to charge him; if she was in the corner then so was he. I would start by slamming his body into the wall like in hockey. I could even claim I slipped.

The trouble was, she did not release me. Could he maybe have unlocked something in her with those two comments about how the was "hot" and about her age of "25." I knew those were the types of things she really liked to hear - especially from anybody but me. If he kept feeding her those lines, he might yet see her pussy.

Well, I knew his interest was not in seeing her pussy. That was just a step. If he got her to that point he would have momentum on his side so it might move her a lot farther along to score.

Erin did respond to being moved, right away she shifted her arms to the traditional 'modesty' pose so many naked models and actresses have used, where one hand covered her pussy and the other arm covering both her tits. The move was smooth, like she anticipated what he would do.

He picked up on how the compliments might have worked so he kept saying she was hot. He said how he had "wasted" time with that 20 year old in the hot pink when Erin was a lot nicer. "That girl was a cow, but you are ideal, you MUST have modeled some," he said.

She was facing him when she glanced down at his dick again, this time with a look of pure disgust. He ignored the "disgusted" part and talked about his interesting dick. "It is very friendly, I have never had a complaint nor have any questioned its manners... Oh my goodness, have I been indelicate and assumed... are you by chance still a virgin?" he needled.

Of course he knew she had to deny that strongly, which was what he expected. Her response was to curse him. But what he didn't expect was for Erin to speak WITHOUT moving her hands! We all know how most women cannot talk without their hands, and in fact my wife had a stronger urge than most. But she overcame her female nature. I took it as a good sign. Resisting him? Well, that might take a bit more than she had.

Jack had finally reached the end of his words and got cursed for it, so it was time to change strategies. He wrapped his hand around the wrist of the arm covering her tits. Looking into Erin's eye he drew the wrist down until he rubbed the backs of her fingers along his shaft, his most defenseless point and so the point a woman was least likely to attack. Her eyes were HUGE as she looked at him, we all knew he was taking a risk of her fingernails. I knew she was considering it. But one could also say he was making himself sure of her pacifistic nature.

It is a fact that Erin pets every puppy and kitten she gets close to. Plus, I recognized there was something extra in Jack's dick that was unfamiliar to her: Jack had a very prominent ridge. It was something I was pretty sure she had never seen live before and had never felt. She was curious. So she moved her fingers every so slightly over his dick.

She was so focused on his shaft that Erin had forgotten how her breasts were now uncovered. Jack reminded her with a glance, one nipple was puckered and the other was soft. He smiled at the soft one. Erin reacted to the glance as if he touched her, she snapped her arm back to her chest.

From my end this had gone way too far. Actually, that was a little funny considering how my fantasy had me getting turned on by watching another guy seeing my wife naked and relaxed, telling her with words and body language how beautiful she was. But Jack was slime, disgusting, and that made all the difference. In my heart I so wanted to run in, get her out of there and give Jack a load of pain. But I was frozen by my brain, and my "White Knight" vow. Why did I ever go for that? I was actually short of breath from my internal conflict. Plus, while my mind and heart were in conflict, my cock knew what it wanted, which was that I keep watching and maybe loosen things up a bit down there.

Me and my cock settled for tenting my shorts. 

Jack took hold of Erin's wrist again. He let it stay in place for a moment as Erin resisted. But after a moment she relaxed. "How about we try that again?" he asked, but did not move.

"No. I don't want to," Erin said softly, but Jack did not believe "no means no." He figured a soft "no" was a "yes" in disguise from a good girl. It helped her think she was still "good."

He waited for a count of five. By then he used just a gentle pull, more guiding than anything, and Erin moved her hand down on her own. Again he guided the backs of her fingers along his dick, then he turned her hand and rested her fingers on it. When she moved her hand he sighed and smiled; he thought he had the path to victory.

Erin just stared at what her hand was doing. It was as if she was disconnected from her own hand.

Actually, we have done something like this before. When Erin gets stoned she sometimes thinks her hand was disconnected. That is our signal that she had enjoyed enough smoke and was baked just right for us to get into bed. Once, when we had some really good stuff and she smoked too much, she even asked who's hand it was on my dick, because I was getting stroked and she couldn't see anybody else around. She got the giggles and tried to see if her sister Becca was hiding behind me, using her hand to stroke me. If so, she insisted Becca had to do something for her. What she said next didn't make a whole lot of sense, but it was really funny at the time. Then she had to call Becca on the phone to ask if she was stroking me. The explanation, questions, denials, and additional conversation took quite a while and I was loath to waste Erin's high. So I fucked her and got her off while she was on the phone with Becca; it was the only time that ever happened and it really got both sisters confused when it did. It was kind of nice.

From where I was across the room Jack had a large-looking cock, he was shaved and circumcised plus he was a smaller guy plus he was 110% hard; these all conspired so he looked bigger. His expression looked like he was going to explode from the feel of her hand.

I knew she was stuck in the "disconnected" mindset when she started stroking him a little faster on her own. Her hand trembled as she did so.

Jack wanted to move forward. The next step was pretty clear, he wanted to see her pussy. He tried to reached out and draw her pussy-shielding hand away, but she fought back and held tight. She slowed down stroking his shaft and said "No, not that. I am not going to show that." It threatened to shatter her brittle mood so he gave that up that approach.

It looked like a setback so I hoped it would start things going the other way.

Since muscle did not work Jack went back to words. He pleaded, "Please let me, just for a second. I need to see a pussy."

She replied sharply, "There are enough to see outside."

Jack was also quick. "But yours is so beautiful... it is so much better than the others."

Erin had a very entrenched, long-held, firm opinion on this, and he activated her canned response. "They are all beautiful. They are all ugly. They all work the same. Do not tell me otherwise, because I have seen far more than you have." (Erin is a nurse who has had some very pussy-revealing assignments.)

His aussie accent was seductive and now there was also need in his voice; that need was the next key to open her. They looked in each other's eyes for a moment and connected as people for the first time. I know what he saw in her eyes, she does this half-surrender thing when she will allow stuff. It looks like a full surrender, but it isn't. It means she has drawn another line in her mind where she dig in and stop him there.

I took it as a potential cue that she knew I was there and would call on me when the time was right for her. Whenever that was.

"Please, I need to see it," he said. Again he tried to pull her arm. She held tight for a moment, then let him move her hand, exposing the small bush on her mound and the shaved pussy below. Erin requires a bush, she just does. So she shaves her pussy lips and a small area above the slit, to encourage me to eat her, then trims her bush so she feels like an adult woman. I know she shaved this morning, she did not expect to go naked, but she was thinking of the possible.

(Okay, I confess, I am probably below average in oral service to my wife. I'm impatient, what can I say? In my defense, once it is in I make sure she has a very good time.)

When she let her arm go she also released his dick; both arms dropped to her side. I know he missed that, but he intended to go farther.

The bastard took advantage as soon as she showed her pussy. He looked down and said, "That is so hot, a real pretty one! The best I have seem in a long time." Acting all innocent and in wonder at it, he touched her leg close to the knee. He held his hand still for a bit, then started to move up. Erin's thighs pressed together. Despite being skinny Erin does not have "thigh gap" so he was stopped some distance from the prize.

She spoke quietly, because they had made the person-to-person connection. "No, please no. I don't... I don't want that. Please don't. Please!" But at a conversational volume so there was little conviction evident, as he heard it he might have read her tone as encouragement. She might as well have spoke to the shower pipes, he withdrew all but one finger, but kept going up.

Her legs were not pressed tight together, and her juices - remember how my fingers had gotten things flowing so pleasantly when she was on her belly outside? - well her juices had flowed down to her thighs. He felt how easy it was to slide up to where her legs joined. His extended finger slipped in, along her moist, slippery valley. At the first touch with her pussy lips she gave a sharp intake of breath.

He knew she was close to surrender and kept on it. As his finger stroked along her valley he said, "Babe, allow me touch you there... I can make you feel so good. Doesn't it feel good? I'm begging you. It is so pretty, I want to make you smile." She had to move her legs apart a little for balance. However, she misjudged because he got another finger in. Pent-up juices flowed, he worked his fingers to open the path, spreading her lips. One finger made the slightest contact with her clit every few strokes, she hissed each time. Her head turned to the side, she could not look at him while he opened and pleasured her valley. She did know pleasure. He used the pleasure very carefully, trying not to do too much or too little. She acted like she was paralyzed as he exploited the soft contact.

When she turned to the side she was looking directly at me for a moment. There was some guilt because she was wet, then her eyes dropped. She still did not summon me yet.

I thought that I would be able to move of my own accord, to stop him, but instead I was also caught up in the drama, wondering what would happen next. I could not bring myself to attack.

As he worked in deeper he made more contact. It was very deliberate in how and where he applied himself. He started to pleasure her pussy more at the front, but not directly. When his finger entered her we all knew it, she gave a little cry of pleasure. Well, I knew that she was not hard to arouse once one made contact with her juices. Her eyes again met his, I half expected them to kiss. She was at her weakest point so far.

With careful, co-ordinated movement he got one finger near her clit, a second moving along her valley, and a third working at the entrance to her hole. I did not know he was stretching her opening. In fact he alternated the pleasured touches, always touching near her clit when he stretched her open a little wider, then working the valley. It was not without effect, the guy knew how to work a woman with his fingers. Erin stared upward, she was no longer able to look at him while he touched her. She softly begged him to stop, to leave her alone, but we all knew that as long as Jack's cock was hard he was not going to back off, he was going to move forward. 

Things shifted, her head went back when his motions said he had pushed a finger deeper into her, touching that special spot inside. She again looked in my direction, this time connecting with me. She could see me standing by the entrance, ready and willing to clobber him. I was just a few strides away. Her eyes said she did not want to do this. But while I watched carefully there was still no invitation to intervene.

Was she afraid he was too strong for me? That was silly.

Did she really want it to continue? That seemed unlikely also.

Maybe she thought that what I would do to him was more than she could be responsible for. Yes, that was the way she would think. The little bugger had an erection and if I came he could be hurt in a very bad place. Turn-the-other-cheek was not an empty phrase to Erin; she abhorred v******e enough that she would have a hard time with that happening to a guy who, really, was not hurting her in a strict sense. Quite the opposite. Before the next change came, I almost saw her plead to me to MAKE her stop.

But of course, as we both knew, that was exactly what I had vowed not to do.

As I said, the guy was obviously good with his hands pleasuring a lady, and advancing her pleasure quickly. My thought was, "the bastard's mother taught him well."

His fingers had mapped out just the right touch at just the right spots, now they exploited them simultaneously. Erin broke eye contact with me when he had her wound up enough, stimulated her and finger-fucked her to the start of a climax.

When she realized how close she was her voice became panicked and amazed and aroused and most of all scared because of what he was doing to her self-image and to her values by overwhelming her body and turning it against her. "Oh! What are you doing to me! You... don't, please. Your front finger, please don't... not like that... oh no, in back don't speed up... Oh PLEASE! You are making me... I don't want to be easy... I can't... I'm not that way... Don't... ohhhHHHH! You are getting me off! I'm going to CUMMMMM!"

Erin's climax really was a beautiful thing to watch.

Well, that was one way to get a cock into a woman's pussy... he was in no mood to stop what he was doing, he was in fact very intent on making her cum again, adding an insurance cum then and there, on his hand. He knew what would come next, if she was fair-minded it would help him by letting him fuck her. He was good, he had a light touch and he was pleasing her pussy well enough.

Her second climax came quickly - he had her clit and g-spot targeted and locked in. It was not a big cum, she fought it and almost kept it hidden. But it was inevitable. We all saw it happen.

Through all this Jack was not the only one with a hand in the game. At some point Erin's hand went back to stroking his cock. Where she had just stroked the shaft before, now her fingers showed some interest in the ridge around his cockhead. That was new to her - I was uncut and didn't have anything like the oversized crown ridge he had. Obviously, with her hand where it was, if she was really desperate for him to stop, her fingernails could hurt him, putting him on the ground very easily. But she never did, that type of thing was not in her.

Instead she had used his pleasure against him, he just didn't know it yet.

After getting Erin off with his hand it was pretty obvious what he thought came next. In his little mind he had pleased her, now she owed him the same.

He spun Erin so she was facing the wall. He clearly intended to bend her over and fuck her from behind, but there was nothing for her to hold on to and their heights were wrong, he couldn't get his slimy fucker in no matter what. He looked around, the changing benches were no help, they were narrow, fixed in place against the wall, and too low to do any good. Neither one of them was going to the filthy, abrasive non-slip concrete floor near the showers. Finally he looked at the sinks, located on the same wall as the entrance. Where I was. It did not take a genius to figure out his next play.

He moved her towards a corner sink on my left. There was no great force, his hand just rested on her lower back to guide her the length of the room. Her walk showed resignation, defeat. She was not willing, but she was not going to struggle. Nor, despite what was happening, was she going to release me. I'm guessing here, but I would say she felt a little like she did owe him something for getting her off.

They could both see me plain as day, I was now in the center of the entrance, standing with arms crossed. I guess the cocky bastard saw the position and figured I was doing him a favor blocking the entrance so nobody else came. A guy like him would be sure I wanted to watch his mastery before I took leftovers. I could see all this in his gloating eyes and cocky walk.

He had sense enough to keep his mouth shut, and he did not walk directly towards me but towards a spot down the wall. I am guessing he didn't want to temp me into disputing first crack with his prize.

He steered her to the sink on my far left where he positioned her bending forward. He got in position behind her. She was still too tall for him to get his cock up into her. He moved her back a smidge, spread her stance and got her weight onto to edge of the sink until things lined up better.

That was when she spoke again. This time she was quiet, almost crying softly as she implored him to stop. "Please, don't do this. You have... well, you have seen me and touched me. That was what you said you wanted. Why do you have to... why do this? Please stop. Don't..."

She shut up when his dick made contact with her body. He was closer so I saw him better, his cock was shorter than mine, and his shaft was thinner. The only way he had me beat (if you can call it that) was with that big fucking ridge he had around around his cockhead. My thought was that no woman or man would willingly that allow pain-in-the-butt in for anal sex. I'm also guessing his fingers took that ridge into account when he worked his fingers in a woman, he would have to stretch her because otherwise the head couldn't get in. Erin later confirmed that thought, he was very good at stretching her opening.

He didn't stop, but quickly something else happened.

He moved out of entry position to slide his cockhead along her slit twice, then settled again and tried to press in. But she suddenly shifted the height and angle of her hips so he was not lined up as he thought he was. In addition, because of her stroking with her hand earlier, he did not have as much control of his climax as he thought. Pressed against her where there was no entry hole, his cock was ready even if he wasn't. Ignoring his wishes, his body went past the point-of-no-return and began a premature ejaculation.

"Oh YUCK!" Erin said. The reality of his foul spew shocked Erin out of whatever brain-lock or trance she was in, this was no longer playing. "Get your slime away from me, YOU BASTARD!" At the same time she looked at me while deliberately tapping her ring finger - her wedding ring finger - with her right forefinger.

He was not the only one getting a release.

At the same moment her curse seemed to strike a nerve, perhaps Jack really did not know who his father was. In any event, he spat out at Erin, "Get on your knees BITCH! Use that lying mouth to get me hard again. We are just getting started."

I got his attention as surely as if I grabbed his throat. I didn't move, but I spoke, I sort of boomed my words. As part of the lung-chest thing, I can get real loud.

"It seems the lady doth protest. So if it is all the same to you, I think I'll have her now. Maybe you should be the one on your knees cleaning her up, make good use of that flapping mouth of yours. Bastard." Up to now I had been as inert as a stone, so my speaking was like a blow which threw him off what he was doing, distracted and instantly enraged him. While he was distracted - and still cumming, Erin spun away from him, into the room.

Jack sounded viscous in reply. "Don't call me bastard. You lummox, you saw how I was the one what got her warmed up nice and happy, so the rule is I get the benefits. We can talk about you after. Unless you want to settle this with fists real quick?"

Dogs will bark louder if they can't bite. He struck a pose like the Notre Dame mascot. It may intimidate some folks, but that is not a boxer's stance and posed no threat. Then, just to add a slapstick touch, one heel slipped on his own spilled cum which was still oozing out. His legs suddenly splayed out. He kept his feet, but his dignity was shredded then and there.

I figured he might have a weak spot. "Well you slimy bastard, you are a fighter are you? Don't get your messy little dicklet in a knot. Do you want some? Tell you what, after I do her once or twice, you can clean us both up, then I'll do your ass for your insolence. That is what you want, isn't it? Bastard!"

He sputtered and said something that sounded real vile, the Aussie accent was so thick I could not understand. But he was careful not to advance on me. He also cast a quick eye on possible escape routes. There was one entrance, and it was all within my reach, I did not have to move a step.

c***dren try a lot of things, but since I entered high school I have never thrown a punch in anger or in practice. However, during my long six weeks in college I did pose nude for an art class, and they wanted a naked boxer. They had pictures of real boxers, and those are the poses I used. I got them exact. It was all legit, they extended my 2-week contract to 6-weeks because I was so good at it. Then my college experience was over so I did not get to pose with the nude females. Bummer.

One of the guys in the class was doing a comic book and wanted me to pose for that, using the same type of poses. It was many more hours over a 9-month period, all in real boxer poses, building muscle memory, including some 'in action' poses. The guy had boxed, so I learned the fine points of balance and muscle mechanics, one can tell the real thing from a fake. Now I struck a pose from muscle memory, bringing real shape to my muscles as they stood out from my arms and shoulders. "Listen bastard, since you took the pose first, I'm required to warn you I box professionally. If you wants to be knockout number 4, I'll accommodate your scrawny ass. I'm sure Floyd, he was number 3, is back to eating soft foods