TSIFOL 32 Zoe's naked sex party

TSIFOL 32 Zoe's naked sex party TSIFOL 32 Zoe's naked sex party

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Zoe holds a party where everyone ends up naked and encouraged to sneak off for sex. It gives Karen the hots for Greg and she has him take her on the bonnet of their car


Zoe holds a party where everyone ends up naked and encouraged to sneak off for sex. It gives Karen the hots for Greg and she has him take her on the bonnet of their car


Submitted: February 27, 2014

A A A | A A A


Submitted: February 27, 2014



Greg’s cousins Zoe and Jenny had invited Greg and me, my brothers Steve, Brad and Greg’s sister Jenna to an end of summer beach party at their family’s lakeside retreat.

Neither Greg nor I are ones to go in for large drunken parties. If they are likely to get out of control or drugs are likely to be part of them then we are even less interested; my own attitude to drugs being set by seeing my mother’s brother having trashed his life after he was rendered psychotic by his use of dope. As mum always said, maybe it only has that effect on people with a vulnerable gene, but there’s a good chance I’ve got it.

As a couple we hadn’t really been to a party; having declined the few invitations we’d received. Individually our attitudes were similar on the rare occasions we did go to one; get out when things turned drunk or out of control.

These struck me as fairly wild girls and I was justified in wondering what sort of party this was going to be. Their lake house was in the country some way out of town and the fact it was a sleepover – even if justified by the danger of driving back late at night – only compounded our reservations.

The only thing which moderated them was the notation on the invitation

Invitees only. No exceptions. Please do not Facebook or publicise the party

No drugs or drug affected


Of course saying these things and enforcing it are two different things; although the distance from town and the fact that, without an address being given, you had to follow Zoe in her car to find the place probably helped a bit.

Given their Christmas performance, I thought there was a good chance the beach part of the party was almost certainly going to end up with a lot of naked people. Once that would have been enough to stop me going. Now the thought tended to the positive side of the equation; I’d found the hormonal miasma that surrounded that Christmas both fun and exciting. Despite my previous discomfort with nakedness, I’d always been just a little bit jealous of friends who talked about parties where people got stripped and thrown in the pool; it sounded fun and exciting in a way that was previously beyond what I was brave enough to engage in.  If that was the limit to the naughtiness then with Greg as my protector I found myself wanting to go.

But I still had to factor in the probability that at the least there’d be a lot of drink there.

After finding out that only a little over thirty people were invited, we finally decided to accept; and in doing that got ourselves involved in what would surely have to rate as the most bizarre, strange and sexually charged 24 hours of our lives..

The invitation suggested people bring sleeping gear and tents for their sleepover if they didn’t want to sleep on the floor of the house. Both Greg and I wanted somewhere to escape to if things went bad, and at a drunken party tents are really vulnerable to being trashed – usually with you in them. So our game plan became to take Greg’s parent’s large SUV put the back seats down flat and lay out a blow-up mattress, park it a bit away from the crowd and use that as a place to sleep and as a lockable bolt-hole if things got a bit out of control.

Even on that basis Jenna didn’t want to go. We let Steve and Brad make their own arrangements as they were as much a risk to us getting away with being boring as anyone else at the party. As someone else who had an invitation, we did however invite Kate to come with us, letting her know what our sleeping arrangements were going to be and finding out she planned to bring a tent.

Better still since Greg had been to family occasions there, he already knew where their lakeside retreat was and we didn’t have to be part of Zoe’s convoy.

Me being me, I did take some precautions based on my prior experience with these two girls. The bikini I wore was a nice one, but nevertheless expendable if it couldn’t be found after the water games. I had been a bit creeped out by the way Phil had gawked at me while pantsing me on Christmas day so decided a string tie side was actually better than a full pantie. At least they came off with the minimum of fuss if it did come to that and could always be double knotted if they needed to be. Plus I packed a spare bikini in the back of the car so if the first ones weren’t retrievable I’d have a backup, suggesting Greg do the same.

By the time we arrived, Zoe’s convoy had proceeded us; giving us the parking position furthest from the house that best suited our sleeping intentions. Even as we got out of the car the property looked spectacular.  Standing alone, invisible from any other properties that might have been nearby, it was surrounded by massive gum trees. The property itself – and a good curtilage around it - had been cleared; the trees replaced by a beautifully manicured lawn which stood in stark contrast to the rough scrub which verged the roadside.

In the front yard were a couple of tents already set up, so Kate went about setting up her little pup tent while we went through to the party

The house itself was nothing more than a tidy compact two bedroom cottage which looked very small on the large block it occupied. It was simply furnished; although I noted a bowl of condoms stood prominently on the coffee table in the lounge room with another empty glass bowl next to it.

Coming out of the back door you stepped onto a good sized timber deck and a step down from that was a nicely grassed backyard leading down to the lake. I was surprised to see a number of sun lounges widely spread around right out on the permitter of the property where they would be of little use to those joining in the main part of the party. Only much latter did the penny drop of why they were there.

The party was already starting to warm up a bit, with everyone just in swimmers drinking and talking in the backyard by the lake and the BBQ just getting fired up to cook the sausage sizzle that was going to be passing for our dinner.

Zoe pointed out the spot just inside the door where everyone else had stacked their clothes and towels when they stripped down to swimmers, so we followed suit and joined the party; even if I was a bit miffed that Greg had wimped it and gone for the board shorts fashion dictated instead of the unfashionable speedos my lust preferred him in.

The attendees seemed to divide evenly between boys and girls. For the most part they were good long term friends of Zoe, Jenny or in a small number of cases Phil; so everyone knew everyone else fairly well. Indeed I’d say Steve, Brad and myself were the only outsiders; in the sense of not being close friends of the group; although Greg and Kate went to a different school to Zoe so these kids were from a different circle to the one they normally circulated in. And my statement about Brad and Steve would have to be a qualified since I was fairly sure either Steve or Brad had at some stage during our holiday shared a bed with a reasonable number of the girls there.

It started sensibly enough with good conversation and only slightly more than moderate drinking as we collectively cooked and ate dinner. And then, predictably for something titled a “beach party” and held on a warm summer’s night Zoe – being the organiser she was - ensured we all ended up in the lake; no exceptions allowed.

By then it was heading towards full dark on a night only softly lit by a quarter moon, so the only real light came from a pair of powerful spotlights mounted on the back of the house. While letting you see who you were talking to and where people were, they never the less created this eerie scene where every object or person was a combination of deep impenetrable shadows contrasting with brightly lit parts facing the light.

When the party first moved into the water it was almost elegantly civilised, with most people sitting or kneeling in conversational circles on the sandy bottom up to their chest in the water still sipping from their drinks. There were even plates of finger food still being passed around. But then predictably Zoe started to liven things up, moving around taking people’s drinks from them and organising them into the game of jousting that we were mucking around with on Christmas Day.

Of course there was some commotion as both the guys and girls tried to pair themselves with someone they fancied. I was lucky I could just pair with Greg; even though I had a few optimistic guys try and hit on me to be their partner and one girl even had the impertinence to try and pair herself with Greg.

At first there was just a lot of very good natured pushing and pulling as we all tried to tip other teams into the water in a general melee. As probably the tallest and skinniest couple you’d think we’d be at a bit of a disadvantage – height without inertia is not a good thing in keeping your balance in this game. Still we managed to keep our own; pushing as many over as we got pushed over ourselves.

Of course I knew what was coming and I kept an eye on the interaction between Zoe and Jenny figuring that’s where it all would start. So it caught me by surprise when, while wrestling with Kate sitting on the hunk she’d chosen for her partner I suddenly felt my bikini top strings being pulled. Automatically, as you do, I let out a squeal as I turned half around and found we were being set upon by Jenny sitting on Brad’s neck. Brad already had Greg’s shorts well down his thighs. I grabbed Jenny’s bikini top string between the triangles and put the other arm around her back, looking for support as I also fumbled around for the knot.

By now she had both my pants knots untied too and Greg was immobile with his pants around his knees; unable even to turn to confront Brad. As Brad backed away, he pulled us off balance, pulling me tumbling back against Brad and Jenny; but because I had an arm around Jenny’s shoulder and a hand clamped firmly on her bikini top string but my legs were still hooked over Greg’s shoulders, I was for a moment suspended between the two. The mental picture flashed into my mind of Jenna at Christmas were she’d been suspended in a similar position with her pants untied, only her rug of pubic hair partly masking a prolonged detailed display of her gynaecological features. I was devoid of pubic hair and I could feel my pants weren’t covering me, so just hoped the poor light would compensate. Brad continued to back off, eventually tipping Greg over too. As my full weight was applied to the arm around Jenny’s shoulder and the hand around her bikini top string I eventually unbalanced Jenny and pulled her down with me.

Naturally with all the strings untied both parts of my bikini simply floated of as I fell. I was determined not to be the only naked person in this group, so as we landed together in the water I was already wrestling about with Jenny, succeeding in untying the rest of her bikini. Meanwhile Greg had completely lost his pants to Brad; who finished by tossing them over his shoulder in the dark somewhere towards the shore.

I figured Brad needed a quick payback, so ganged up on him with Greg to get Brad’s pants off him; although I don’t doubt he wished a woman other than his sister had claimed his pants. Jenny in the meantime had abandoned her partner to go after her sister Zoe. Zoe had heard the commotion made by me so knew she was coming, but a single person is more agile than a stacked couple and even with her partner helping defend her, Zoe’s pants strings were soon untied and she found herself tipped off; whereupon Jenny completed the job. After that it was on for young and old. I was surprised how many, seeing what had happened simply joined in the process, immediately having a stripping wrestle with whoever they’d been engaged with. Others took a little longer to comprehend what was happening and like Greg and I at Christmas tended to stand back and watch, thinking it would all ignore them – which of course it didn’t. But for the most part, the whole process spread out from Zoe and Jenny like a wave as those who had been stripped – not bothering to remount their partner - simply moved to the next couple and ganged up to strip them too.

As for me I initially did a quick look for my bikini hoping at least to chuck it somewhere I could find it, but having been separated from it as I fell and then wrestled with Brad I quickly found I had no hope of finding it in the dark. And as more swimwear was floating about or could be felt underfoot the chance of identifying yours even if you brushed past something became next to nothing. Besides which this time I wanted to join in the fun.

Because it was fun! It was fun tackling and stripping off both the girls and the guys. I was not by nature a tactile person. I didn’t usually handle people; and especially in the extremely personal way you had to in order to get their swimmers off. This was all new to me.

Greg was my lover; stripping him one on one, was seriously sexual stuff, even if we were in a playful mood. That was different. OK so I’d had to strip Merc in the hogtie wrestle and Kate when she was sick, but that too wasn’t the same – even though they had been strangely novel experiences at the time. That had also been serious; either competitively or in being concerned about Kate.

This was more voyeuristic, in its extreme maybe the sort of playfulness I wished I’d been brave enough to do before I met Greg. Mind you without him being there as my protector I’m still not sure I’d be a willing participant least things got out of control in a way I couldn’t deal with. Whatever it was it was an enormous turn on. In the end I actually managed to be the one who pulled the pants on two guys and a girl – well above my entitlement and that wasn’t counting Brad or Jenny. And the degree of body contact – and by that I mean every part of the body – that you tend to have between you and the person you are stripping was something I found an enormous turn-on. I even got to watch one of the guys I stripped crack a boner as I peeled his pants off his legs. If Christmas had been a hormonal miasma, this was a hormonal soup. By the time I was finished I was so randy that if I could have just slipped off with Greg for a quickie, I would have.

I didn’t detect anyone – and I suppose I’m talking mainly about the girls here – who seriously objected to the stripping process. There were squeals and brief cries of “don’t”; but – without for a minute detracting from the attitude that no means no - they were more the sound you instinctively make when someone pulls your bikini ties rather than indicative of a determination not to participate. Some may have stood back until they were engulfed by the process, but by the time it caught them they were ready for it.

But these were a less conservative type of young person compared to me. Three months ago I would have quickly got myself out of harm’s way and probably screamed blue murder if I’d got caught up in something like this and in the process exempted myself from the fun and – I admit – hormonal excitement of participation. While Greg wasn’t really all that different from me, with him and the experiences I’d had over the last few months it just all seemed natural.

In the end no-one escaped. We all ended up naked and with no hope of finding our swimwear in the dark. That would have to wait until morning. For a while the game of jousting restarted this time a naked version, then about half an hour later the first naked figures started emerging from the water – probably looking for another drink.

It didn’t take long before a buzz came back to those in the water that attracted our attention. The clothes – clothes and towels – were all gone. In their place a note had been pinned on the door “Your clothes are safe. They will be returned in the morning”. Great; a practical joker! Of course there was speculation and accusations about who it was and Zoe and Jenny had to be prime suspects. But everyone managed to deny it with a straight face. Most just got themselves a drink and didn’t worry any more about it. Others went in search of the clothes; including a search of tents and car boots. But they weren’t to be found.

So it turned out that those who just got on with drinking weren’t any worse off than those who’d spent time searching. As one by one we collected back on the deck out back, it presented a strange sight. I suppose it’s what a nudist colony is always like, but you just had all these naked young people standing around talking and drinking, trying to pretend it was natural and not look silly doing it. Plus it was lucky it was such a warm night so that even the lack of towels for drying was little more than a minor inconvenience.

That was helped a little by the light; or more specifically by the lack of it. Even up here on the deck those two spotlights and a bit of light spill out of the living room were the only sources of illumination. The parts of your body facing the light shone like beacons, the part facing away from it were in deep shadow and the features were barely discernable. So maybe it was not all that surprising that, without any fuss or apparent effort being made towards that end, nearly everyone in a conversation ended up facing away from the house; conversation circles being more in the shape of shallow arcs, with people bending their heads forward to talk to someone at the other end of the arc.

If you were in an arc closest to the house then the view that presented itself to you looking down towards the water was a sea of bare bottoms. Of course if you needed to go into the house for a drink or something else you exposed yourself to the full glare of the house lighting; so maybe it wasn’t surprising that no-one was actually loitering in the house.

Still I did start to grow uncomfortable with the lack of any clothing. Even just pants would have been nice; after all my brothers were at this party too. At first I’d forgotten about my spare bikini in the car; but even when I remembered it, I was forced to confront the question of whether I wanted to be the only one with clothes. I was voluntarily part of this group, by the hand of fate (in the form of some joker) we were all naked; while I felt uncomfortable, should I turn myself into the only one who was not?

Surprisingly Kate was the one who answered the question for me; suddenly appearing in a G String and cami, probably originally intended as sleeping attire. I have to concede they didn’t hide much; the G String speaks for itself and the cami was so brief, plunging and loose that you only had to stand next to her to see everything that was otherwise hidden by it. Still Kate always keeps me guessing. I would have thought she was one of the least inhibited girls I knew. Certain anyone sitting on the beach on a big surf day while she’s out can be fairly certain of getting a glimpse of her boobs and that’s never seemed to bother her in the slightest, so I might have guessed nakedness wasn’t a big deal to her.

When Kate donning some extra clothes didn’t seem to create any issue with the group it gave me the courage to give Greg a nudge and tell him I was going to get my spare bikini. He came along and put on his spares too; a pair of speedos covered by a brief loose very light pair of swim shorts. When we returned to the party it was at first as though nothing had changed. Once or twice we had to explain the lucky fact we’d had spares in the car, but that was all.

Being no longer confined to having my back to the house, I was standing talking to a group when I saw a girl called Alice come through the house in a bright red mini-dress. A draft of wind lifted her hem enough to show she didn’t have panties on underneath, but it appeared there was another one who’d had something spare in their car. She glided past me out onto the deck, but it was just a moment later I heard someone cry out “Alice has a dress on” and then “Undress Alice”, the latter being repeated in a rising chorus of both male and female voices.

I turned around to see Alice surrounded. I think I heard her say something like “Aw, guys” before surrendering to the inevitable, her hands above her head as the throng lifted her dress off, picked her up and carried her down to the water and threw her in.

Of course immediately you get that feeling in your stomach of knowing what’s coming. Greg and I had been talking in a group but had turned around to see what was happening. At that point you’re not even sure if you should turn back toward the group and make eye contact with them knowing full well that the only thought of any of them is going to be “well we have a couple more dressed people here too”.

Looking down towards the water I could see Kate standing on the outer ring where she was clearly going to be passed by those coming back from having disposed of Alice. She nervously looked around, catching my eye and giving the rolled eye expression that asks: “Do we really have to go through this?”

The night was old enough that the drink was reducing inhibitions even if things were still well under control. The answer was yes. With a formulaic “Kate’s Dressed” “Undress Kate” she too meekly complied as they made her lift her arms to take her cami off. Then a string of guys picked her up and held her under their arms like you would a heavy package while another slid her panties off. I noted that as she was carried down to the water more than a few of the guys took their chance to have a grope of her breasts; nothing too confronting, just that momentary little play that guys seem compelled to want to do to breasts and girls normally stop them from doing (without good reason anyway). Given how often they got exposed while she was surfing, I would guess Kate’s breasts had been a source of fascination for most of the young males of the town since she’d grown them some eight years ago; still that didn’t make it a good thing for them to do. I didn’t hear any actual protests from Kate; maybe even a bit of laughter – but we were too far away to really tell.  

Then even before Kate hit the water a female voice called out “Greg’s Dressed” Undress Greg”. Instantly I was pushed aside as it seemed every girl at the party surrounded Greg. For a little while he disappeared from my view; hidden by both the throng of girls and the vagaries of the light. By the time I next got a reasonably clear look at him he was being held horizontal and on his back by strings of girls arranged along either side of him. His shorts were off, leaving just his speedos.

Probably at first the girls just thought they were undies, but then I heard someone holding him near his crutch call out “hey look, they’re speedos”

Zoe playfully looked up at me and asked “does he have it gift wrapped for you?”

Before I could even think of a sensible answer to that question, another girl chipped in with “I heard she’d broken it”

That one left me flabbergasted. This was all in light good humour, but I wasn’t sure whether to encourage it by replying to the banter or ignore it. In any case I wasn’t sure my mental acuity was good enough to keep up with it.

Even while I pondered that one, another girl had started to play with it and got a reaction “No look it’s still working”

Almost in unison Greg gave a firm “girls do you mind” while I let out a “hey, that’s mine to play with”. But we sort of drowned each other out and our protests were lost in the general squeal of merriment and laughter the girls generated amongst themselves as he responded to the stimulation. Greg was limited in the squirming he could do. Too violently and he might get dropped in the deck. He was resisting with some movement of his hips but that didn’t stop the girls from teasing him up to a fair size.

With a “let’s have a proper look at it” one of the girls pulled the waist string and peeled his swimmers back down to his thighs. I’d been distracted by watching what was happening with Greg. Suddenly I realised I also was partly surrounded; a dense half circle of guys had formed behind me. One of them caught my eye. “You’re dressed too. It’s time to undress Karen”. Instantly half a dozen pair of hands were on me. Two guys held each arm and another had his hands around my lower chest from behind. A guy came around in front of me, momentarily blocking my view of what was happening with Greg. Reaching around my back he undid the lower tie of my bikini top, then moved his hands up and untied the top knot before pulling the top away and holding it aloft to general acclimation from the guys around me.

As he held the top up I got a glimpse of Greg. His swimmers had disappeared and I saw a girl momentarily grope his naked erection. Then the guy was in front of me again. Simultaneously he grabbed a pant tie in each hand, pulling them to release the knot and pull my pants off in a single action. They too were held aloft to much merriment.

I got a look at Greg now held shoulder high by the girls as they started off toward the water just as one of the guys called out “too the water”. In a way I was relieved as I found myself hoisted onto the shoulders of the guys. I admit being ritually undressed in that way had been a turn on. But standing naked in such close proximity to all the naked guys had also freaked me out just a little; even more so when the guy taking my bikini off started to become aroused. It only took one guy to do something silly to turn a slightly bizarre and even erotic scene into quite a threatening one. I had been fortified by the knowledge that it would only take one real cry of distress for Greg to break free of his bonds and come to my rescue, but I didn’t want things to head in that direction. Up high all I had to deal with were hands and within reason they were less threatening.

There were a few contacts as I was lifted up which were a bit borderline but which I was willing to accept as incidental to the lift. No sooner was I up then someone decided it would be nice to start a game of ‘let’s grope Karen’s breasts’. Having seen it happen to Kate I wasn’t surprised. Some were more ticklish than arousing and by making me squirm and laugh sort of cancelled out any mild verbal protests I otherwise tried. Still, the first one or two had teased up my nipples. As I’ve admitted before my nipples are quite reactive to either cold or touch and the height of the engorged nipple seems quite significant relative to the size of the breast itself.

That meant every subsequent groper discovered already raised nipples which he found too much of a temptation not to spread his fingers apart and slide between them to keep the nipples teased up to their max. It must be ingrained into their DNA because even though it was dark and because I was being carried at shoulder height each couldn’t see what the others were doing, every single one did much the same thing

The fact was I didn’t really mind. I actually enjoyed it. I was actually aroused by it. In a way it was the sort of male attention I’d always wanted but never been brave enough to expose myself to; sexually playful without compromising my essentially monogamous nature. But once again it was only Greg’s presence that gave me the sense of security to let it happen.

Just once when we were nearly down to the water some idiot had to go too far. I’d been keeping my thighs firmly pressed together while I was carried on their shoulders. Suddenly I felt a hand turned sideways slide up between my thighs looking for intimate contact. I lifted my head, looked down along my body and with a “not there” said in a way that brooked no argument got the hand immediately removed and avoided any other attempts.

I don’t know how many of the guys groped my breasts on the way down and in any case couldn’t see individual faces. But from the number of hands, I’d say most of them had a go, although I would hope I could exclude my brothers from that category.

When we got to the water they faced me around so I was broadside to the shore, then I was lifted up over their heads and thrown sideways into water deep enough to safely break my fall. I came back to the surface just in time to witness the girls prepare themselves to do the same to Greg; now watched by the guys who’d just thrown me. Indignantly I noticed one girl was ‘carrying’ Greg’s erection as if it was something separate requiring additional support – her fingers wrapped around it and lifting the head of it clear of his body.

Something went wrong as they tried to throw him so that, instead of being thrown clear over the heads of the girls on the seaward side of his body, they went down in a heap under him; so that Greg landed on top of half a dozen of them, their bodies all in a tangled heap as they tried to bring their heads back above the water. That included the girl holding Greg’s shaft and in the eerie light I’ll swear the last sight I had of them before they all temporarily disappeared under the water with the momentum of the fall was the tip of Greg’s erection held upright by a female hand around it.

The way they fell meant Greg landed on his back at about chest level across the bodies of the half dozen girls caught under him. That in turn meant the girls couldn’t get up – indeed could barely keep their heads out of the water - until Greg was off them and he couldn’t get up without being really careful not to knee them or otherwise handle them inappropriately. Since to do that he had to roll over on his stomach and manoeuvre himself across their bodies I didn’t want to think about how much contact his shaft had with how many girls in the process. Plus I’m sure I saw one or two of them actually retard his progress as he tried to untangle himself and very possibly have a grope. He certainly took a while to get clear of them. I could see I wasn’t the only girl somewhat turned on by what was happening; I just thought they should pick on someone else.

Kate and Alice, probably unsure how to exit the water with any dignity after being thrown in or whether the group dynamics were going to permit them to come straight out, had loitered there watching proceedings. Now the whole party exited the water amongst a lot of laughter and merriment. Greg had loitered a minute waiting for his boner to subside, but seemed to quickly get it back under control and join me as I waited by the water’s edge for him. I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask him. He confirmed his erection had been subject to quite a lot of handling as he slid across the top of the girls. Sometimes he’d had multiple hands on it and it was more than just a grab; a couple had given it a bit of a hand job or brought their own bodies up to play against it. I offered to scratch the eyes out of any girl who’d offended him but for some reason Greg declined the offer.  

Five minutes later we were all standing around naked drinking and talking again as if nothing had happened; except for the fact just about everyone was now wet. I did cast my eye around to see if I could find the bikini I’d just lost, but it too had disappeared in the dark. It was only in that conversation that I discovered Alice, Kate and Greg and myself had clearly marked ourselves as newbies to these parties. Zoe had effectively started them when she’d got back from schoolies [*]. Something in schoolies had sparked her interest and the pattern of parties where everyone ended up naked had soon evolved.

[Author’s note: Schoolies is a week of debauched partying organised for those just graduated from senior high school – 18 year olds. The US equivalent might be Spring Break]

Over the years a core group of those who knew what these parties were all about had developed. Every year there were a few newbies. If you couldn’t handle the nakedness or if you misbehaved you didn’t get to come back. Misbehaviour seemed to have a flexible meaning which was subject to Zoe’s control.

Although not written anywhere, the consensus of the group I was with was something along the lines of -

  • For guys, while they were allowed to display erections, they had to behave in what they did with them. Girls’ crutches couldn’t be groped or invaded without a very unambiguous invitation. In certain circumstances – such as punishing getting re-dressed – girls breasts could be groped.
  • A girl groping a guy on the other hand wasn’t regarded as misbehaviour unless the guy made it very clear things were going too far; and even then lee way was allowed.

I wasn’t entirely sure whether they were rules that favoured girls or the guys. Although in fact designed by a girl, I suppose it depended on your mood.

A certain amount of drink to loosen the mood was encouraged, but being out of control drunk was also misbehaviour. Still the fact Zoe insisted on everyone participating in activities tended to keep thing more under control that way too since there was less pure drinking time.

The ritual undressing of newbies thinking they could hide their nakedness was also a regular feature; which is why the call was so quickly taken up. And for some reason the clothes disappeared every year, although no one seemed really sure who did it. Zoe was obviously the main suspect, but no-one had actually worked out how she did it.

Knowing the nakedness was ritualised and subject to implicit rules and these parties were really just a fantasy created by Zoe for herself made me more aware of what was happening. I suddenly recognised Zoe’s criteria for invitations depended on more than just a sparkling personality. Every single guy there was in the good looking category. In this surfing town good bodies are fairly common, but they all had good faces too. Any one of them could have been a model. As the skinniest and one of the tallest, Greg was more to my taste, but each and every one of them was pretty hot in one way or another.

And the girls were just as genetically blessed, so Zoe was selective about the female company she kept too. All of them looked stunning naked. It made me surprised that Kate was a newbie; although I could see that she and Zoe were different styles of people so maybe had only a limited personal connection.

It was like I suddenly realised I was on the set of the OC or invited to a party organised by the Plastics out of Mean Girls.

It also occurred to me the bowl of condoms on the coffee table was more than a mere precaution.

Zoe and Jenny were nothing if not proactive party hosts. They seemed determined to ensure the party consisted of more than people standing around drinking; something for which I actually applaud them since it certainly was slowing the rate at which people just got off their brain silly. It wasn’t long after our dunking that the background music suddenly got changed to something more upbeat and the girls came out onto the deck, grabbed the hands of the nearest idle males, shepherded Greg and me and the only other pair there as a couple out onto the centre of the deck and basically made the eight of us start dancing; encouraging – indeed demanding - those nearby to join in.

Having got their two males going, they roped in two nearby females to dance with them and went after another two males. Of course not everyone immediately cooperated. Some resisted being physically pulled onto the dance floor, while a few others slunk back off again as soon as the girls’ attention moved elsewhere. But on the whole they were successful.

Normally even if you can get something like this going at a party, you get a lot of girls dancing and many less guys. Of course this dancing had something more going for it. Given a choice of a whole lot of naked girls shaking their tits on the dance floor or the company of some half-drunk guy off to the side a strangely large proportion of the guys seemed content with the dance floor.

The hosts started their music choices with some good fast rock and roll beats; and by this stage enough girls had imbued enough to drink that there were in fact no shortage of them more than keen to adopt the typical hold your arms out wide and shake your tits from side to side dance moves that are somehow associated with drunk topless girls dancing. So at first the guys were treated to some good visuals and got to shake their own member in the general direction of a member of the opposite sex; some of them flaccid, other starting to show erections which shook from side to side more like a musical timer.

And nobody seemed bothered by the erections, their owners suffering neither teasing nor particular comment. I suspect the regulars at these parties knew all the guys would have one soon enough and the newbies were starting to learn what these parties were about and were learning to keep quiet and go with the flow.

If you’re into dancing then you’re likely to have your own favourite dance movies. If like me you’re mainly into modern styles then it might be Fame, Footloose or any one of another half dozen more recent movies with feel good dance set pieces. For Ballroom and Latin dancers it’s likely to be Strictly Ballroom. Where they both possibly cross over is with the movie Dirty Dancing. So it had been for Greg and myself when we’d explored our dancing interests while practicing for the Anniversary Ball; Greg with his Ballroom background and me with the modern dance.

With the movie Dirty Dancing the highlight is meant to be the set-piece dance with its classic lift at the end. But for us it was actually the Dirty Dancing scenes themselves where the resort workers are having a private party. Basically the whole concept might as well be called pretending to have – or was it actually having - sex on the dance floor. Pubis’s are joined firmly, the girl’s crutch sitting securely n the guy’s crutch as hips sway together; the basic step being able to be adapted to any music with an appropriate tempo and mood. Meanwhile the girl puts herself on display; she can lift her leg and slide it along the guys flank, or any one of a number of moves that just looks like standing up foreplay. The piece de resistance is where the girl locks her mons against the guy and straddles his thigh while she arcs her back outward; putting her head back as far as she can – probably rubbing her clit on his thigh in the process. The guy then swings their merged bodies through a semi-circle, in effect displaying her to those around them.

Just for fun we used to practice dirty dancing moves at home while we were practicing other dances for the Anniversary Ball. If we did it in swimmers – as we usually did – you could be sure we’d both end up fully aroused and my boobs would pop out of my bikini top as I did the backward arc. Once things got a little steamy and Greg pulled the ties on my bikini and wriggled out of his own swimmers so we started doing it naked. From there it was only it took only a quick fiddle for us to be actually having sex while dancing – going through all our favourite steps while our bodies were physically locked together in the most intimate way; before we both lost control and Greg took me and filled me with his cum while he had me pressed against a wall.

As the party music slowed a little and became more suited to it, it was inevitable we’d start doing our dirty dancing moves. Greg may not have started off aroused but it was long before his erection was firmly pushing itself into the valley of my crutch. Then in a moment of drink induced boldness- or is that foolishness -  and with the cover of the deep shadows I slid my body just far enough away from him to line him up, lifted myself onto my toes to get his penetration started and then came down on him to complete the process. So now we were on a public dance floor sexually joined while pretending we weren’t and dancing our heart out with our favourite sexual dance. In the dark, with the crowd and given the generally sexually charged mood of the night it seemed like a good idea at the time. They always do, don’t they?

Because we were completely focused on each other and just having a great time with the dance we weren’t really watching what was going on around us. Things got a bit stickier when, as I arched my back and Greg spun me around, I suddenly realised I was looking up at a lot of faces completely focused on us. Our dancing had started to attract attention and other couples had stopped dancing and cleared a space to watch us. As they gave us space, light started to penetrate where previously there was none and suddenly I realised that only the closeness of our bodies was making ambiguous what was really going on. I was even more alarmed when I saw my brother Brad in the front row of the watchers.

What can you do? Hope your blushing is not too obvious? Stop or at least slow the dancing to take away the incentive to watch? Get in closer to others so you can lose yourself in the shadows again? Pull away just enough to let him slide out without coming away far enough to have his erection flip up between your bodies? We did all of that. I suppose I’ll never know whether anyone did know what we were up to.

Greg got his erection back under control and we took a break to go and get a drink and get out of the public gaze for a minute. I couldn’t help notice as we came back through the living room there were now several used condoms in the previously empty glass bowl; but it seems there was a protocol in its use. You didn’t just put the full condom in there. You emptied it first. The empty used condoms were floating over a pool of cum. Yuck!

We took our drink outside and joined a group standing just off the deck having a break. Because we were out of the arc of the lights it took a while for my night vision to adjust and let me see who we were talking to, even if I recognised the voices. As it did I was distracted by some movement in the distance over near the property line. It took me a moment to work out what it was. Then I had an OMG moment. It was the silhouette of a guy on a sunlounge pounding vigorously away at a girl underneath him. So that’s why they were out there!

Zoe started to slow the dance pace down a bit further announcing it’s time for some “close dancing”.

Most of the old hands at these parties knew what was required and complied. A couple of newbies, and perhaps a more nervous veteran or two didn’t get close enough and had Zoe physically merged their bodies with her hands bringing the girl’s body into full contact with his; from the breasts squashed against his chest to the waist firmly up against his – well – whatever else it was pushed against, it was up against his cock. Then she settled back to her own dancing; keeping an eye on everyone to make sure we were all still compliant.

Greg and I of course had no problems following the rules, although Greg became aroused again; but then as I looked around, from what I could glimpse between the bodies in the low light, so did every other male – not surprisingly.

After about 5 minutes, suddenly Zoe insists everyone changes partners. This caught me completely by surprise. Kate had been dancing close by for some time now; her partner Tim often brushing against my bottom as we danced in close proximity. Instantly Tim broke off from Kate, turned towards me, passed Kate’s hand to Greg and grabbed mine with nothing more than a “why don’t we swap”, leaving the guy behind me tapping me on my shoulder no chance of being considered. He put an arm around my back and pulled me firmly against his body as he started to move in time to the music.

Tim reminded me of one of my Uni friends; Karl. He was typical of Kate’s selection of guys. Straight off the front cover of a bodice ripper paperback, square jawed and a solid muscular body, although barely as tall as me – and thus much shorter than Greg. It was clear that he did some sort of body building and I could feel that the arm around me and the chest muscle my breast pushed against both had a hard solid feel to them. Indeed there was something about him that suggested steroid user.

There’d been a time when I was ovulating that I’d found myself slightly attracted to Karl’s so called charms. Tim didn’t have the benefit of my bodily cycles and in any case Greg’s way of rationalising transitional beauty had infected me. It wasn’t hard to see that Tim’s solid body now would become a rather fat unattractive one in a decade or two.

As we danced I discovered he was the acting captain of the local grade football club, had a rebuilt hot rod of a car, was keen on body building, an ace carpenter and renowned as a lover. What did he learn about me? Nothing! Any question from me produced a stream of boastful information from him. If I tried to offer any insight into myself I got cut off as he picked up on some point to tell me more about Tim.

So here I am dancing with this guy, his erection drawing arcs on my stomach leaving what felt like a trail of pre-cum on it as it went, thinking “Kate, Kate, you should be doing so much better than this”. She’s smart – smarter than me – and stunningly beautiful and she keeps lumbering herself with these Neanderthal types. I found myself transfixed watching her and Greg dance together. Even in the poor light I could see there was no gap between their bodies. Her breasts were pushed firmly up against his chest and I could easily imagine his erection pushed into her stomach; no doubt also leaving a stain of pre-cum tainted by my own bodies fluids on her in the process. Between them an animated conversation was going on; laughter, a teasing banter, even once or twice the “serious” look Greg gets when he’s dealing with a comment or reaction that requires more sincerity.

Unless you knew them well you could believe they were made for each other. You’d be wondering how I could possible tolerate seeing them together like that. But there was a single fatal flaw with Kate that would always keep Greg at arm’s length from her and make me feel entirely secure with the friendship between them.

Somehow Kate had been damaged where romantic relationships were concerned; probably in the course of her parents’ marriage breakdown. I had no doubt she desired them, even desperately wanted them. But she always sabotaged them; did something to put a distance between her and a potential romantic possibility that destroyed the relationship and drove the lover away. She could always find a physical lover – there’d been a long string of Tim types even in the short time I’d known her which no doubt ensured she wasn’t sexually deprived. But that was as far as she’d get.

Many years ago Greg had felt the sting of that sabotage. The memory of it and the understanding he thereby gained of that flaw was a complete inoculation against any future romantic attachment to her, but they’d been great friends before that and Greg had the good common sense to rebuild that friendship afterwards.

Mind you “together like that” had acquired a whole new meaning in the last few months. I doubt Greg had done so much as put an arm around her before I’d known him. Yet this was the second time he’d had cause to embrace her naked body in the last few weeks. The first time he’d been intensely embarrassed by how it had aroused him, so I didn’t doubt this would be enough to keep him up too – given the state I’d delivered him to her in. But now he looked entirely comfortable in her arms; there was not the slightest hint of reticence on his part being so close to her naked body.

“What school did you go to?” While I’d been thinking about Kate and Greg, the Neanderthal had been prattling away about this car. I’d only half been attuned to it least he caught me out. Now I had to refocus my brain to address his question. I told him the name of it and that it was an all-girls school. I’d barely finished before I knew he was a school prefect and captain of the football team. Plus there was some conversation that I think was meant to infer I didn’t know how deprived I’d been not being exposed at school to guys like him; and I suspect I’m using ‘exposed’ there within both meanings of that word. All of this I responded to with platitudes, just hoping I could soon get my Greg back.

What created an ambiguity in that desire was the fact it was an absolute turn on to me to see Greg up close and personal with another girl like that; all the more so when it was Kate. It was almost like watching girl porn. “Am I nuts?” I hear you say. It worked only because I wasn’t threatened by it and it somehow made me feel terribly privileged and lucky to have Greg when other girls seemed to want to handle him so closely. I know, it’s a crazy sort of psychology and I can’t explain it any better than that, but it was like the minute I got him back I wanted to jump him and take him then and there to prove my ownership of him. I even liked the idea of him smearing her – marking her if you will - with his pre-cum; as revolting as I might have found the Neanderthal’s.

“Want a root?” [#]

[# Author’s note; Australian slang for sex. Never tell an Australian you’re rooting for your team!]

What the? Tim drew my attention back to him with a question that took my breath away. I would have liked to achieve more of a put down, but settled for “no thanks, I’m spoken for”

“That’s Ok he doesn’t have to know”

I’m sure he’s now rubbing his cock up and down on my stomach as we dance – subtly, but enough. I think I can feel it throbbing. I just hope he doesn’t come. I look for a put down answer short of being abusive “No, you’re definitely not my type and that’s not my style”

“Let me know if you change your mind”

By now I’m trying to get more separation between our bodies and are looking for a chance to ditch him altogether. I give him a short “I won’t”

Zoe comes to the rescue just in time by calling for another change of partner, but has other ideas about me getting Greg back any time soon. Just before she called for a change, I glimpsed a girl talking to Zoe. Next thing I knew that particular girl is being subtly manoeuvred into Greg’s arms with the change of partners. My first thought was that was just rude.

At least I managed to dump Tim. With Zoe’s call for a change I get three taps on my shoulder. This time I have time to look around and see what I’m getting into. One criteria has become very important. They must be tall. Dancing with Tim has made me realise a short guy with a small erection puts its tip revolting low on your pubis. I want something that contacts my body at a safe height. What I’ll do if he doesn’t yet have an erection and grows one while I’m dancing with him I haven’t yet worked out.

So I end up with a guy called, appropriately enough, Guy. He’d been in a group we’d been talking to before and seemed OK. He was a more run of the mill guy. Medium height and build, a handsome enough face without being anything special. He was also a more run of the mill guy in how he handled this up close and personal nakedness. Tim had simply assumed I’d want full body contact with him and short of struggling with him, gave me that. Like the rest of us, Tim was slightly embarrassed by it and was happy to maintain a lighter contact; just the unavoidable brushing of nipples on chest and dancing erection that seemed the minimum that would justify itself as close dancing in this condition. His conversation was also better.

Still, his parting words as Zoe called for another change of partner was still a suggestion we sneak off to one of the sun lounges.

Three more times a change of partner was called for. Three more times I found myself with multiple suitors for the next dance; although at least I started to learn to pay attention as to who was manoeuvring themselves alongside me before the change of partners was called for. And finally twice more I was sexually propositioned. Zoe’s friends were nothing if not an optimistic lot.

Plus three more times I had to watch Greg with his body firmly up against a naked woman who wasn’t me. Of the five of them, there was only one I found threatening.

It wasn’t Kate with the closest thing to a Barbie Doll figure nature is capable of building and a face so pretty men have been known to melt in its presence. Nor was it any of another three girls with impressive breasts, hourglass figures and model looks. No it was a tall skinny blonde with modest breasts whose most eye catching feature was a smile that just captured and held your attention.

In part that was because I knew only she would pass Greg’s three babies and ten year test; as in “what will they look like after….?” Normally it was only a test he used defensively; to explain to me why a well stacked girl wasn’t that much of a distraction to me. But with this girl it just increased by insecurity. The real trouble was that in many ways looked a bit like me and she seemed to be more than just taking the chance of having a dance with him. She seemed to be strongly flirting with him. There was something about the way I could see her looking at him; something about the way she used her right hand, which instead of being around his back was either drawing shapes on his upper chest as she talked to him or flicking her hair. Once I even saw her stroke his face.

I’ve learnt to deal with girls flirting with Greg. I’ve learnt to recognise the flirting isn’t mutual, to see that Greg plays a dead bat in response to them, neither encouraging them nor being rude to them or doing anything to make them feel bad. I suspect sometimes he doesn’t even recognise the extent to which he’s being flirted with. And above all I now have the security of knowing that his mine; not just in some creepy stalker sense, but in the sense of he being the one who grants me that possession.

Still I was glad when his turn dancing with Jill – as I later learn her name to be – came to an end.

Finally at last Zoe stopped playing her little sex partner games and I got Greg back. I had many questions for him. I wanted a run down on every girl he danced with and how many times he’d been propositioned. Three times as it turned out, including by Jill; only Kate and one other girl hadn’t come on to him. He swore that he could think of nothing except getting me back and he’d not really found any of the girls attractive; even if – like every other guy on the dance floor – he represented back to me with the boner I’d left him with. Mind you he’d been keeping an eye on me too. He knew every guy I danced with; and fair enough too.

I also wanted to know what he found out from Kate. Whatever they were talking about seemed interesting.

Greg had asked her why she’d been the first to get dressed again. Typically Kate had responded something like “so you think a tart like me doesn’t need clothes”. It’s hard to type that without it sounding almost abusive; something likely to be followed by a slap on the face and a walk away. But that’s to misunderstand Kate. The answer she’d expect from Greg – and the one he gave her – was “I might not have put it that way, but something along those lines”.

In that regard Kate is like Greg and myself; maybe it’s why were all such good friends and a bit distant from others. There’s a certain directness to our styles that, even though we don’t intend it, others can find offensive or at least unsettling. Maybe were all just a little bit autistic or something like that.

Kate’s answer by the way was that in her innocence it never occurred to her it wasn’t acceptable to find other clothes even if she was comfortable with a degree of nakedness. She had them in her tent, she might as well put them on. Kate was not the type to go through the angst I went through of conforming to the group norm.

She also told Greg she was really pissed off with Tim. Unlike Kate, Tim was an old hand at these parties. He knew there’s be a change of partners and he’d made sure they were always dancing right next to Greg and myself so he could get his hands on me at the first opportunity; being completely distracted and obsessed while he was dancing with Kate. Until the call for a change of partners was made, Kate didn’t realise what he was up to – just that his focus was not on her. Kate said he’d be lucky if he still got a root from her tonight. She only had paired off with him at the party because they’d gone out together in the past, she knew him better than any of the other guys and she had the hots for his body; but his behaviour had rapidly cooled that. Indeed I noted that Kate didn’t hook back up with Tim after the partners rotation finished. Good on her.

And so the night continued. From time to time the numbers hanging around the house seemed to diminish somewhat. I couldn’t help myself; joining a conversation out of the direct light from the house, I gazed over towards the sun lounges. Sure enough they were justifying their presence out there; nearly always occupied by a pair of bodies giving each other a good workout. At one stage I had this strange vista of all three down one side of the house being occupied by a pair of bodies – one on top of the other – the top one pounding away. If only they’d managed to do it in time to the music from the house you could have called it art and got a grant for it. For those less exhibitionist about it, I noticed the bedroom doors regularly closed too.

Suddenly we realised it was about 2 am and well past our bedtime. Anyhow we were starting to get the hots for each other and we thought we had somewhere better than what were the now well used sun lounges to let our now boiling passions loose. We figured we were still being party poopers by retiring for the night, so decided to do so discretely – just telling Kate what we were doing.

She indicated she come with us as far as her tent as she was keen to call it quits too.

She was alone as she came with us. I thought she might have brought herself some company and couldn’t help but ask whether she scored during the night. She had, not with Tim but with another guy she’d met called Wayne and while she thought the guy was OK – even quite nice - he didn’t merit a shared bed for the night. That’s Kate; her own woman.

As we got to Kate’s tent we said our good nights. Kate has always been tactile with both Greg and me. Greetings and goodbyes always merit a hug. Without even thinking, she hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek, just as she had every time we’d parted for the last 2 ½ months. But this time we were naked. It wasn’t our bikini tops that clashed together or touched each other’s chests. Instead like gears on two gear wheels, our breasts interlocked, each of us with a nipple touching the skin on the chest between the breasts of the other. There was nothing sexual about it, it’s just it was a form of contact that was foreign to the world I’d started this holiday in.

Then I stood aside as she said her goodnights to Greg too; her nipples touching his chest, the tip of his erection lightly pushed against her stomach. As I said before, I knew this was no threat, nothing to be jealous of and with that knowledge it always seemed that the sight of Greg in intimate contact with another girl simply excited me – made me want him more urgently. I knew I had a cure for that erection that I’d be delivering in the next few minutes; that’s all that really mattered.

As we held hands and walked off toward the car Greg called back over the noise spill from the party “you know where the car is if things get out of control”. We fussed about washing our teeth using the water and bowl we’d brought specifically for that purpose; Greg afterwards attending to closing some netting around a couple of the doors so we could crack the windows open for ventilation without letting mozzies in. That meant he ended up inside the back of the car where I could see him in the feint illumination of the cabin light. Me I was loitering around the front of the car.

Greg may have thought he was just going to get away with some nice comfortable sex on the mattress; I had other ideas. I was feeling randy and tartish. I wanted something new. I wanted him to take me on the car bonnet. Not knowing my intentions, not being able to see me even with the light spilling from the car and not yet curious enough to come searching for me, I put on my best Dirty Dancing voice “hey lover boy”. “Come here lover boy”.

When Greg got out and came around the front of the car he found me with my chest spread over the bonnet and my bum twerking in time to the music carrying from the party. As he approached me I just turned my head towards him and gave him the best come and take me face I could muster while emphasising the movements of my hips even more. Even in the pale light emanating out of the car’s cabin the message was unmistakable. Greg came and merged our hips, his shaft tucked neatly between the cheeks of my bum, and joined me in a dance of love as our hips swayed together to the music.

As the dance continued I reached between my legs, grabbed his shaft and guided it into my body; a body that had been wet and open and ready for him for much of the last few hours. Still we danced, joined together now – just the slightest difference between our tempos and sways moving his shaft inside me. Progressively passions were ignited, swaying became by degrees thrusting and we were pounding together to the beat of the music; his finger around my thigh and rubbing my clit in synchronised time.

And oh, it was working beautifully. Every thrust, every slip of his fingers past that oh so sensitive part of my body was driving me towards a climax. A good one it would have been too. But something inside was rebelling. I wanted more. I wanted it different. I wanted to face him; I always preferred to see him as we were making lov

© Copyright 2018 joanmcarthy. All rights reserved.

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