The Walk by the Lake: Nude Day 2025

The Walk by the Lake (NUDE DAY 2025)

It had been Howard's idea. At least, that was how we'd agreed esoterically to remember it.

We were driving north from Albany in a rented convertible that felt too open, too loud for the quiet, hesitant plans forming inside me. I wore a long, white summer dress that floated against my knees in the breeze, a sunhat I didn't need, and under it all: nothing. That had been his request. I'd agreed with a theatrical roll of the eyes, though part of me had shivered in anticipation.

Howard, of course, was trying very hard to appear relaxed. Sixty-five years old, still charming, still sharp, but wrapped in the soft armor of someone who hadn't dared anything in years. He had packed for the day with care--books, towels, sunblock, wine. He wanted us to explore this so-called "naturist path," as if it were simply another forest trail, just with a dress code.

I had read about it--twice. Once in a travel blog written by a pair of yoga instructors from Montreal, and then again in a local Vermont lifestyle magazine. It wasn't a campground, not officially. It wasn't a resort. It was a stretch of woodland around a small, secluded lake, where clothes were optional and discretion expected. There were no signs, only word of mouth.

We parked by a grassy verge just off a gravel road. No other cars. I sat there, staring into the trees. The air was warm, humming with early summer.

"You still want to do this?" Howard asked, casual as tea.

I didn't answer at first. I was aware of the way my thighs stuck to the leather seat, of the slight tension in my belly, of the flutter that had followed me all morning. Then I nodded.

"We can always turn back," I said. "If it's awful."

He smiled and reached over to touch my hand. It was warm. Familiar. Safe. That was the problem, maybe. It was all too safe.

We changed there by the car. Or rather, Howard changed.

He stripped off with a kind of awkward cheerfulness, folding his polo shirt, stepping out of his shorts, exposing his pale, soft skin with an almost defiant shrug. His body was that of an aging man: loose in the belly, soft at the thighs, with hair that had once been golden but was now mostly silver. He looked, suddenly, like someone else's idea of an old professor on holiday.

I hesitated.

The wind moved through the trees. I glanced around. No one. I slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders and let it fall to my waist--but I didn't take it off. Just reached behind, unhooked the bra I wasn't really wearing, and pulled it through the armholes.

Now I wore a dress with no bra. Still in sandals. Still too dressed. Still too much me.

Howard looked at me. "You look beautiful."

I laughed softly. "I look confused."

We walked into the trees.

At first, the trail was overgrown and hushed, and I was hyper-aware of every twig underfoot, every shift of breeze across my thighs. The fabric clung lightly to me. I wasn't used to feeling this much of myself when I moved.

Howard's buttocks bounced a little as he walked ahead of me. I thought of saying something witty. I didn't.

After maybe fifteen minutes, the path widened and sloped down. And there--suddenly, strikingly--was the lake.

It was more beautiful than I had expected. A long, narrow crescent wrapped in trees, with water that shimmered like glass. A dock jutted into it on the far side, and in the distance, near a cluster of large stones, I saw them.

Two people. Naked. Sitting comfortably, elegantly, as if the world had never required clothing at all.

We didn't go to them. We found our own small clearing and spread a blanket. I took off my dress. Quickly. As if by doing it fast enough, I could outpace the shame.

The sun touched my skin like breath. I sat cross-legged, then lay back, arms above my head.

Howard sat beside me, a book in his hand he wasn't reading. I closed my eyes.

Time passed differently like that. We spoke only little. At some point, I rolled to one side and propped myself on an elbow. I saw the couple again.

The man--tall, lean, darker hair. The woman--elegant, toned, with dark skin that gleamed. She turned slightly. Our eyes met.

Her smile was effortless. Her gaze stayed longer than it needed to.

A slow wave moved through me.

Howard chuckled softly. "They're quite something, aren't they?"

I nodded. My skin felt too alive to answer.

I didn't realize I had stood until I felt the moss under my feet.

"Walk with me?" I said.

He rose. We wandered along the lake's edge. I was naked now, truly naked, the way I hadn't been in years. Not just undressed, but exposed. Aware of my breasts swaying slightly, of the coolness between my thighs, of the curve of my hips under the sun.

I saw her again--Lenore. That was what I would learn her name was.

She stood at the edge of the water, brushing sand from her calves. Avery sat behind her, watching her like she was something eternal.

She saw me again. She raised her hand, not a wave, just a greeting. A recognition.

I returned it.

And something inside me stirred, deep and warm and waiting.

The Blanket and the Touch

The sun was higher now, the light slower, thicker. We had walked back from our wandering, a slow drift through pine and low birch, back to the blanket we'd claimed earlier. The forest hummed around us. Somewhere, water lapped gently against a dock.

Howard sat with his back against a rock, eyes half-lidded from wine and warmth. His book had slid onto his belly. He smiled at me vaguely, content, and closed his eyes.

And then they came.

Lenore and Avery.

Not abruptly, not like people intruding. They appeared through the light and leaves as if conjured. As if they had always been coming to us.

"Mind if we share the spot?" Avery asked, voice soft and rich.

Howard stirred, blinked up. "Not at all. Please."

Lenore spread their blanket beside ours, closer to me than to Howard. Her limbs moved with slow grace, like she was made of sun and sea. I couldn't look away. Her body was pure invitation, without asking. She smelled faintly of wild mint and lakewater.

I sat up. My dress was folded beneath me. I didn't reach for it.

They opened a bottle of something rosé and passed it between us without glasses. Lenore handed it to me last. Our fingers touched. I drank. My throat was dry and tight and eager.

Avery and Howard began talking--books, I think. Poetry. Something harmless and intellectual. I wasn't listening.

Lenore was watching me. Not overtly. Not rudely. But watching. Her gaze lingered on the hollow of my throat, on the curve of my breast where the sun had left a pink glow.

"You look radiant," she said, softly, without ceremony.

I smiled, awkward. "I feel... strange."

"Strange good, or strange nervous?"

"Both."

She didn't speak again. She just shifted a little closer, slow as dusk.

Her thigh brushed mine.

My skin jolted. Not visibly. But inside, it was as if someone had opened a window into heat.

Howard and Avery kept talking. But Lenore and I became our own orbit.

She touched my wrist lightly, pointing at a bird above us. The gesture was nothing. But the contact was everything.

I felt myself lean toward her. Barely. Like a plant tilting toward light.

Lenore saw. She always saw.

Her hand slipped down from my wrist to my palm.

"You're trembling," she whispered.

"I know."

I didn't pull away.

Her thumb brushed the inside of my hand, tracing tiny, slow circles. My breath deepened. My nipples tightened in the soft air. I could feel them pressing forward slightly, without shame now.

Lenore's eyes held mine.

She shifted again. Now we were side by side, our thighs touching fully.

She reached behind me. Gently. Her fingers brushed my hair from my shoulder.

Then she leaned in. Her lips brushed the edge of my ear.

"You're beautiful," she said. "And you don't even know how much."

A tremor passed through me.

I turned my face toward hers. Our mouths were a breath apart. We didn't kiss yet. But we could have.

Her fingers slid along my collarbone. Down. Across the upper swell of my breast.

I closed my eyes.

Behind us, the conversation between Avery and Howard continued. A gentle murmur. Like background music.

I opened my eyes. Lenore was watching me.

And then she kissed me.

It wasn't a deep kiss. Not yet. It was exploratory. Soft. She tasted like berries and lakewind. Her tongue brushed mine like a secret.

My body arched forward, hungry without realizing. Her hand cupped the side of my breast now, warm, firm, reverent.

I moaned--quiet, inward. A sound I hadn't made in years.

Lenore pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy, her lips parted.

"Do you want me to stop?"

I shook my head.

She smiled. "Then lie back."

I did.

The blanket was rough beneath my skin. My back arched slightly, breasts lifted. The light filtered through green leaves, dappling us in gold.

Lenore knelt beside me. Her hands moved with care--first to my hips, then my thighs. She didn't rush.

She leaned down and kissed the hollow of my throat. Then lower. A trail of warm, slow kisses down between my breasts, across my ribs, to the soft skin just above my belly.

I was open now. My legs had parted without command.

She kissed along the inside of one thigh, then the other. My hips shifted up, involuntary.

And then her tongue touched me.

I gasped. My hand flew to my mouth.

She didn't stop. She licked gently, teasingly. Then deeper, fuller. Her fingers held my thighs apart, spread gently, firmly.

Howard.

I turned my head. He had stopped talking. His eyes were wide, lips parted.

He was watching.

I met his gaze.

I didn't stop.

Lenore's mouth was a miracle.

She licked me like she'd known my body forever. She circled my clit with exquisite slowness, then flattened her tongue to push deeper. Her fingers joined--one, then two--slipping inside me with practiced ease.

I was wet. I was soaking. I was desperate.

My hips rose. I whispered her name. My hands clawed the blanket. I didn't care who saw. I wanted Howard to see.

And when I came--my thighs shaking, my spine bowed--it was with my eyes wide open.

Open to her. Open to him.

Afterward, Lenore lay beside me, her head on my shoulder.

Howard didn't speak. His hand rested in his lap, unmoving. But his eyes were thunder.

Avery stood now. Calm. His body silent. Still.

Lenore kissed my shoulder. "You've only just begun."

I didn't answer.

But something inside me had already said yes.

And in that post-orgasmic glow, as Lenore's fingers idly traced circles across my stomach, memories stirred that I hadn't let myself feel in years. Decades.

There had been a time--long ago, before Howard, before safety--when my body had belonged to something else. College. The early 90s. The fear of AIDS still hung in the air like the scent of chlorine in dorm showers. Girls kissed girls at parties because it felt safer. I had.

I remembered one night--just a mattress on the floor of a grad student's apartment, someone named Tasha, maybe? Her tongue had made me scream back then too. We had giggled afterwards, buzzed on cheap wine, and I remembered how I had floated home through campus with my underwear damp and a grin I couldn't explain.

But then I had grown up. I had been careful. Monogamous. Conservative even. I had wanted safety, and Howard had given me that--his quiet strength, his books, his steady kindness. We had built a life out of Sunday routines and respectable pleasures.

And I had let that other version of myself fade. Buried her in polite moans and dutiful missionary sex.

Until now.

Until Lenore, whose mouth had reawakened a flood I didn't know I still had. Whose fingers had pulled the past from between my thighs and reminded me what I had once been. What I still could be.

I turned my face into her hair, inhaled the lake and pine and salt of her, and whispered--not to her, not to Howard, not even aloud--but to myself:

I want more.

And I knew I would have it.

Diane's Revelation

The air had changed.

After Lenore brought me to that long, soft climax under the trees, something in the forest seemed different. The hush was deeper. The light dimmed to gold. The world, or perhaps only I, had begun to pulse in a slower, richer rhythm. Every breath I took felt thick with sap and possibility.

Howard still hadn't spoken. He sat a few feet away, legs drawn up now, completely naked. His cock, half-hard, rested against his thigh, and his hand occasionally brushed across it, almost unconsciously. His face was unreadable. Not anger. Not shock. Something stranger: like recognition.

I didn't move from where I lay beside Lenore, our skins touching at shoulder and thigh. She reached for the bottle of wine again, drank, then passed it to me. I drank too. My mouth still tasted of her. My sex still hummed.

That was when Avery returned--not alone.

Two men followed him, both bare-chested and laughing quietly as if they'd just come from the water. They were younger than Avery, perhaps in their late 30s or early 40s, with lean, athletic builds and smooth, dark skin that glistened faintly. One of them had long dreadlocks tied back; the other had a shaved head and a smile like honey.

"Friends," Avery said simply, with a nod toward me and Howard. "This is Malik. And this is Darius."

I sat up slowly, letting the blanket slip down my front. Lenore didn't cover me. Neither did I.

"Diane," I said.

Malik smiled. "A pleasure."

Howard cleared his throat, awkwardly. "Howard."

Malik and Darius exchanged a glance. Not mocking. But knowing.

Lenore rose. She reached down for my hand.

"Come. Let's feel the water."

I took her hand and stood, not bothering to find my dress. My thighs were damp. My legs still weak. I felt Howard's eyes on my back, and I didn't shrink from it.

We walked barefoot toward the water. Malik and Darius followed slowly behind.

The lake was warm, the sun on its surface, and I waded in waist-deep before diving under. When I surfaced, Lenore was beside me, water beading on her breasts. Her hands slid around my waist. She kissed me--slowly, fully. I tasted the lake and the memory of myself.

When we pulled apart, I saw the others on the shore. Avery had returned to Howard, who was sitting again. The two other men were watching us, but from a respectful distance. Still, their eyes were unmistakably hungry.

Lenore turned in the water and called, "Come join us."

Malik stepped forward first, then Darius. They moved like cats, like kings.

I felt a shiver not of cold but of wildness.

We played in the water first. Innocently. Splashing, laughing, Lenore on my back, her hands at my breasts underwater, pretending not to tease. But she was. She always was.

Then we returned to shore.

The sun was dipping now. That golden hour.

Lenore led me to a second blanket. One I hadn't seen before. Laid out flatter, wider. She knelt, and I followed. The others remained standing--except Howard.

I felt the sand at my knees. The wine in my blood.

Lenore whispered in my ear. "You want to be watched. You want to be taken."

I nodded.

Malik stepped closer.

He was beautiful. His body sculpted, his presence quiet but dominant. He looked down at me, then let his cock fall free. It was thick. Already growing. The head dark, glossy. I could smell him--sun and salt and something male.

I looked up at him. Then opened my mouth.

He didn't push. He let me take control. I leaned forward and licked the underside first--slowly, reverently. My lips parted. I slid down.

He groaned.

Behind me, I heard Lenore's breath hitch. I felt her fingers stroke down my back.

I bobbed my head, slowly at first. My tongue swirled. His cock hardened fully in my mouth. I sucked deeper. He gripped my hair. Not rough. But firm.

Howard.

I turned my head, still with Malik's cock in my mouth, and looked back.

Howard was sitting upright now, naked, legs splayed, his hand wrapped around his cock. His eyes were wide, lips parted, stroking slowly.

I met his eyes.

I swallowed Malik deeper.

Lenore kissed my back. Her fingers slipped between my thighs. I was dripping. My own juices ran down my legs. She teased me, dipped into me, and then--lower, slick--one finger circled my other opening.

She pressed gently, slowly, and I moaned around Malik's cock. My hips rolled.

Lenore prepared me--soft, careful, knowing. Her finger slid in, then two. I opened to it. Welcomed it. Needed it.

And I wanted more.

Malik groaned and pulled out. "Not yet," he said. "I want to feel her."

He helped me up, guided me to all fours. Lenore lay beneath me, her lips at my breast. Darius knelt in front of me now--his cock already hard. He rubbed it against my lips, and I welcomed him.

Behind me, Malik pressed at my cunt. I gasped. Lenore sucked my nipple.

He entered me slowly--inch by inch. Filling me. Stretching me. I was soaked, but he was thick.

I moaned around Darius' cock.

Lenore looked up at Malik and whispered, "She's ready."

Darius shifted, his hand guiding himself lower. I felt the blunt pressure against my ass. I trembled--but pushed back.

He went slow. So slow. Lenore held my hand as I opened, as he slid into me, deeper, fuller.

And then I was taken--completely.

I was filled--front and back, mouth and cunt and ass. Lenore kissed me, whispered filth and sweetness in my ear. Malik pounded into me, relentless. Darius fucked me from behind. I gagged, drooled, sucked hungrily.

Howard's hand moved faster now, his chest rising in short breaths.

I had never felt this full. This used. This wanted.

And I had never loved myself more.

My climax built like a storm. Lenore's fingers rubbed my clit as Malik hammered deeper. Darius groaned--then pulled free and came on my lips, my tongue out to catch it.

Malik came moments later, growling into my back, flooding me.

And Howard--his hand gripped tight, his face twisted--and he came too, wordless, watching me.

I collapsed into Lenore.

Howard rose finally. He walked to me.

I looked up, still on all fours, seed on my chin, dripping from between my thighs.

He knelt, touched my face.

"Diane," he said softly. "My God."

I smiled.

And kissed his fingers.

Ever After

The forest was quiet in the early morning. Birds called softly from the canopy, and the lake lay still and smooth like a polished mirror. The air smelled of moss and distant smoke. My body hurt--in the best way.

I lay on my side, naked beneath the open sky, wrapped in the mingled scents of sweat, salt, semen, and pine. My thighs were sticky. My breasts heavy with sleep. Between my legs, everything throbbed gently, a living ache that pulsed with memory.

Lenore was gone. Or at least no longer beside me. The last I remembered was her lips on my shoulder, her fingers still inside me, coaxing the last flutter of pleasure from a body already overwhelmed.

And Howard--Howard was here.

He lay on his back beside me, head turned toward me. His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm. His cock, limp now, rested against his thigh, streaked with the remnants of his orgasm. His fingers had dried in his own come. He had fallen asleep watching me be filled, taken, adored. And he hadn't looked away.

I watched him now. He looked older in sleep. Softer. But also--more alive than I'd seen him in years.

I sat up slowly. My back ached faintly from the sand. My hips were sore. But I welcomed every sensation. They were mine.

I stood. The breeze kissed my bare skin, and I walked to the water. It was cold at this hour, but I didn't hesitate. I waded in waist-deep and then let myself sink.

The chill wrapped me like an embrace. I opened my eyes underwater, saw the refracted sun above, the sand below, the silence between. I swam slowly, letting the lake cleanse me.

But it didn't wash it away--not Lenore's taste, not the push of Malik inside me, not the stretch of Darius in my ass. Not Howard's moan when he came, watching me on all fours, dripping.

These things were etched now, part of my skin.

I emerged, shivering slightly, and saw him awake.

Howard sat up, his eyes following me as I walked back, water sliding down my curves. He didn't speak.

I knelt beside him.

He touched my knee. His fingers trembled.

"Did you..." he began, voice rough, "... was it what you wanted?"

I didn't answer right away. I leaned forward and kissed him. Gently. My mouth tasted of morning and lake. His of something older--something searching.

"I didn't know I needed it," I said. "But yes. God, yes."

His hand cupped my face. "You were so... powerful."

I smiled. "You came."

He nodded, ashamed and proud. "I couldn't stop myself."

"I didn't want you to."

He lay back, pulling me with him. I rested my head on his chest. His hand stroked my damp hair. His cock stirred, lazily.

"You looked so hungry," he said.

"I was."

"Are you still?"

I turned my head and kissed his chest. "Yes. But now I want something else."

His breath caught. "Tell me."

"I want you to touch me. But not like before. Not like we used to."

"How, then?"

"Like you saw them do it. Like you finally understand how much I can take. How much I want."

He stared at me, unsure.

So I showed him.

I straddled him, my wet skin sliding against his belly. His cock hardened between my thighs. I didn't ride him. Not yet. I leaned forward and kissed his neck, his collarbone, his nipple.

Then I moved down.

I licked his belly. His hip. I kissed his cock--soft, then firm, then wet.

I took him in my mouth, the way I had done for others last night, and his groan was different this time. Less surprise. More surrender.

I sucked him slowly, letting spit coat him, using my hands like Lenore had taught me.

He was panting. His hands twisted in the blanket.

When I climbed back up, I positioned him at my entrance--but didn't let him in.

Not yet.

"Touch my ass," I whispered.

His eyes widened. "Diane--"

"Do it."

He did.

His hand cupped me. Then spread me. Then a finger--hesitant--pressed inward.

I was still loose, still open. He slid in easily.

"Use both," I whispered. "Use your mouth too."

He knelt. I turned, offered myself.

He licked me. Soft at first. Then deeper. He ate me the way Darius had fucked me. Slow, insistent, moaning against me. I rocked back onto his face, my hands gripping the blanket.

And when I came, I screamed. Birds scattered.

He turned me over, breathless now. His cock throbbed.

"Please," he said. "I want to be inside you."

"Where?" I teased.

He swallowed. "Everywhere."

He entered me vaginally first--slow, reverent, kissing me the whole time. Then, when I was slick with both of us, he pulled out.

I guided him to my other opening.

He hesitated.

"It's okay," I said. "I want it. I want you to feel what they felt."

He looked into my eyes. I saw the conflict there--Catholic guilt, the echo of old sermons, of Sodom and Gomorrah whispered in marble churches. The man I had married had always been gentle, good, but reserved. This, anal sex, had always been beyond his reach--taboo, unclean, unspeakable.

And I had let it be.

Back then, in college, when I was twenty and fearless and trying to outwit biology, it had been different. I couldn't take the pill--my body rejected it, hormones making me bleed for weeks. Condoms were clumsy and smelly and ruined the rhythm. And so we had tried other ways.

Back then, with Alex, I had learned to like it. A different kind of fullness. A different kind of power.

But when I met Howard, I locked that part away. He flinched the first time I joked about it, laughed nervously and muttered something about sin. And I had let it go. Out of love. Out of ease.

Now I saw him trembling, hard and ready, but afraid.

I touched his face. "It's not dirty," I whispered. "Not when I want it. Not when you love me."

He nodded, slowly. Still unsure. Still overwhelmed.

And he pushed.

He moaned--loudly. His body shuddered. My breath caught as he filled me. There was pain, but it was welcome. Real. Erotic.

His hips moved. Cautious. Then deeper.

He gripped my waist, as if to anchor himself. I met him, pushed back, matched him.

I cried out. Not from pain. From joy.

He came fast--too fast. But it didn't matter. It was everything.

He collapsed over me, his chest against my back, panting.

And I smiled.

Afterward, we lay tangled in each other. Not speaking. Not needing to.

His hand on my breast. My leg over his hip.

Around us, the forest kept its peace.

Inside me, everything was on fire.

And still, I wanted more.

Arrangements Beyond The Nude Day Seduction

The light had changed again. The stillness of morning gave way to something warmer, more playful. Insects buzzed lazily in the shafts of sunlight between the trees. Laughter--low and musical--drifted from the far end of the lake.

I stretched where I lay on the blanket, legs long and open, breasts rising with each slow breath. My skin was warm. My sex still a little sore. Howard sat beside me, leaning against a tree, his legs open, cock soft but content. He looked at me now with something new in his gaze--not just love, not just awe. Permission.

"This is still Nude Day, isn't it?" I said, smiling at him.

He chuckled. "I don't think the clock's run out yet."

"I think we should celebrate properly," I purred.

We weren't alone.

A few meters away, two women stood by the edge of the trees. I had noticed them before, earlier in the morning, watching discreetly. Now they were closer. Barefoot, laughing, radiant in their nakedness. One was pale, red-haired, her curves full and proud. The other dark, tall, her body lithe, almost feline. They had that same air Lenore had carried--ease, confidence, the kind that only comes from women who know exactly how desirable they are.

The redhead tilted her head. "Happy Nude Day," she said, her voice low and teasing.

I sat up, stretching deliberately. My nipples tightened in the breeze.

"Isn't it glorious?" I said, voice soft but loud enough. "The sun feels better this way."

The darker woman walked forward. "We thought we might take a dip. But you two look... deliciously distracted."

Howard flushed. He was trying not to stare. I made it easier for him.

I stood, slowly, letting the last folds of our blanket fall away. I walked toward the women, hips swaying, every inch of my bare body offered without shame. My fingers brushed my belly, then lower, almost absently.

"What's your name?" I asked the tall one.

"Janelle."

"And you?" I turned to the redhead.

"Mara."

"I'm Diane," I said. "And this--" I looked over my shoulder, "--is my husband Howard. He's still recovering."

Both women laughed. The sound thrilled me.

"Would you care to join us?" I asked.

Janelle's eyes narrowed, amused. "Are you inviting us for conversation?"

I stepped closer, until I could feel the warmth of her skin.

"Not exactly."

I kissed her first. Janelle's lips were cooler than Lenore's had been, firmer, with a taste of mint and morning.

Her hand slid up my side, cupping my breast. She squeezed gently, thumb brushing the nipple. I moaned.

Behind me, I heard Howard gasp.

I turned to see Mara kneeling beside him, her hand on his thigh, stroking his leg slowly. She smiled up at him with wicked sweetness.

"Are you feeling left out?" she asked.

Howard tried to speak. Failed. Nodded instead.

Mara leaned in and kissed the head of his cock.

Janelle had lowered me onto the blanket again, her mouth at my neck, then my chest, kissing, teasing, biting gently. Her fingers dipped between my thighs. I was wet already, embarrassingly so. I didn't care.

She licked me slowly. Thoroughly. Her tongue was patient, skilled. She took her time. I writhed, opened wider.

Mara moaned softly nearby. I turned my head and saw her riding Howard slowly--her back arched, her red hair wild. His hands gripped her hips, his eyes locked on me.

I reached between my own legs, spread myself wider for Janelle.

She slid two fingers in, then a third.

I gasped. "Don't stop."

"I won't."

She didn't.

It wasn't just the sensations--it was the audience. Howard, seeing me used again, worshiped again. And this time, not by strangers, but by women who knew exactly what they were doing.

When I came, it was with a sharp cry, my fingers tangled in Janelle's curls. She drank me in.

And when I opened my eyes, I saw Mara now on her knees, licking Howard's cock clean, his thighs trembling, his voice hoarse.

And I smiled.

This Nude Day wasn't over yet.

We rearranged ourselves, lazy and glowing. Mara and I stretched out together on our sides, our legs entwined, our mouths kissing slowly, then lower. I slid between her thighs as she opened for me like a flower in the sun.

She tasted sweet, slightly tangy. I licked her with practiced devotion, while she did the same to me. Our mouths moved in tandem, breathless and greedy.

Howard was behind Janelle now. She bent over for him, hands planted on the earth, her ass raised invitingly.

He took her--slow, firm, growing bolder with every thrust. She urged him deeper, louder, until his body slapped hers in a steady rhythm.

I watched as I moaned into Mara, my tongue curling inside her.

When Mara came, she shook, her cries muffled between my thighs.

And I--my whole body trembled as her mouth sent me over the edge again.

Howard groaned, burying himself inside Janelle one last time before collapsing over her back.

We lay there, tangled and gasping, four bodies, warm and glistening, satisfied.

And for the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to be free.

To be wanted.

To belong--not to rules, not to roles, but to sensation. To the moment. To the self.

But just when I thought we had reached our limit, Howard surprised me.

He was lying back on the blanket, eyes closed, body spent--and then Janelle knelt between his legs again. Without a word, she took him in her mouth, licking him gently back to life. Beside her, Mara joined, her lips tracing his thighs, then his balls, until both women were worshipping him with greedy mouths, their heads moving in rhythm, tongues dancing over every inch of him.

Howard groaned, helpless. His hands reached out blindly, resting on the crowns of two beautiful women as they devoured him.

I sat beside them, legs parted, fingers between my thighs as I watched. The sight of his cock disappearing between two mouths--wet, hungry, eager--was almost too much.

But it wasn't over.

When he was fully hard again, Mara pulled away and turned, presenting herself on hands and knees, her round ass rising in invitation. Janelle stroked Howard, guiding him toward her. He knelt behind Mara, lined himself up, and then--slowly, deliberately--slid into her back entrance.

She cried out. A mix of surprise and raw pleasure.

Howard gasped. His hands gripped her hips tight. He moved slowly, reverently, then faster as Mara moaned and pushed back into him.

Janelle came to me, lay beside me. We kissed as we watched them. Our legs tangled. Our fingers explored each other lazily.

Then she slid down, her mouth seeking mine again--between my thighs. I moaned. I opened for her.

And beside me, Mara's cries grew louder. Howard was fucking her hard now, deeper, lost in it.

And we were watching it all--licking, gasping, wet with each other.

When Howard came, his whole body trembled. He collapsed onto Mara's back, panting, eyes glazed with release and disbelief.

We laughed. Softly. Joyfully.

Later, as the shadows lengthened and the sun began to dip, we lay tangled in the fading warmth, bodies slick with sweat and lake breeze.

"We should do this again," Janelle murmured.

"Not wait a year for Nude Day," Mara added.

We exchanged numbers, fingers sticky from fruit and wine, cheeks flushed with contentment.

And as Howard kissed my neck and whispered, "Thank you," I knew something inside both of us had changed forever.

Not just a memory.

A beginning.