The Naked Collection

by Poppy Romero

  I was biting the back of my hand, trying not to cry out as I spasmed with pleasure. Dan kept thrusting, filling me with his hot sperm as I came crashing to earth, each stroke of his cock inside me firing jolts of pleasure through my body. I opened my eyes to watch him as he came, encourage him to stay inside me, when I noticed behind him.

  A torch beam appeared around the corner of the main building. I panicked. Fantasizing about getting caught is one thing, but actually getting caught would be completely different, not to mention humiliating.

  I mean since then, this has become the starting point for a lot of newer fantasies. Sometimes, Dan just doesn't stop, and they come round the corner and see him ploughing me. Sometimes they stand there and watch silently, sometimes they make comments. Sometimes they're complete strangers, sometimes they're people I know.

  What actually happened was that I slapped Dan on the arm and pointed. He looked over his shoulder and jumped up, pulling out of me with a wet slurp. I scrambled to my feet and took his hand, both of us running back round the other side of the hotel.

  Obviously with us trying to get out of the pool area, there wasn't time for us to check the corridor was clear, and we just had to hope it was empty this time – especially since my dip in the pool had soaked my shirt to the point that it was transparent!

  Thankfully nobody was around, and we quickly ran back down the hall toward our room. We ran back to the room and collapsed on the bed, sleeping most of the night, just enjoying the heat of each other's bodies.

  The next morning we got up and got ready to retreat back to our separate worlds. We got our stuff together, packed our bags, and checked out.

  In the lobby, I kept looking round at the other guests and staff, wondering who it was that had reported us to security last night. If any of the guests had seen us out of the window, or if they'd been at the beach.

  Dan and I didn't make it, in the end. Time apart over the summer did something to us. When we got back to university at the start of the next term, we got together, but it was never the same. The desperation and the need had gone, and we drifted apart. He started seeing someone else, and I threw myself back into my work.

  But I'll always have that summer. The fantasies it awakened, the exhibitionist side of me I found, and the adventures I now have because of it.

  But that's another story, for another time.

  The New Nudist

  I closed the door, smiling politely as the girl made her way to the car. The second she was out of eyesight, we turned away from the door, and simultaneously breathed a heavy sigh.

  I looked at Sean. “Great. Out of all of them, she looked the most promising.”

  “Tell me about it. I think her references were only that good because they desperately wanted rid of her.”

  I sighed, and slumped back onto the sofa. He was right. All day we'd had a string of people applying to take the spare room. None of them had been sane enough for us to want them to stay for the rest of their interview, let alone live here. Most of them had just been annoying, or asked if we could let them off the first few months rent for a variety of sketchy reasons. One of them stared at me lecherously and asked if we could come to 'some arrangement' and Sean damn near threw him through the window.

  To be honest, we'd both been a little too picky ever since we decided we'd have to rent out the spare room. We'd only moved here when we inherited the house, and the place was falling apart even then. A few boiler breakdowns and leaking pipes had driven the repair bills up to the point that neither of us could afford it, especially with me working from home most days.

  So reluctantly, we started trying to find a lodger.

  I looked down at the coffee table in front of us. There were two neat stacks of paper; one was the rejected pile, the other was the applications pile. We'd optimistically left space for an 'accepted' pile, but the only thing in it was an empty crisp packet the last applicant had failed to put in the bin. Which was literally right next to the table.

  I swept the packet off the table with my foot and crossed my arms. “So who's next?”

  Sean picked up the application form. It was another one that looked OK on paper. Local girl – a student, quiet, but her references were... odd. Something about their tone didn't read right. They all seemed very enthusiastic, very sad to see her go, without being able to say what it was that made her such a good house-mate. Her name bugged me too. It seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

  I sighed and threw it back on the top of the pile. We'd spent all morning interviewing and I was sick of the sight of it. I looked across at Sean. “I need to blow off some steam.”

  He grinned at me, putting his hand on my leg. “What did you have in mind?”

  I shrugged, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile. We had a while before the next applicant and he had the day off work, so I think we both knew exactly what I meant.

  I leaned back on the sofa, stretching my arms back over the headrest. “I don't know, why don't you see if you can find something to do?” My tank rode up as I arched my back, exposing my midriff.

  Sean shuffled over next to me, slipping his hand over the button on my jeans, popping them open. I sighed, trying to funnel my anger at the applicants into my sex drive. My hips rose to meet his exploring hand as it slipped into the waistband, and over the flimsy lace of my underwear.

  I closed my eyes and smiled blissfully as his fingertips traced a delicate trail along the edge of the fabric, teasing the exposed skin. Normally he'd have spent longer teasing me but I think we both wanted to work off a little frustration.

  His fingertips slipped under the thin fabric, sliding down the smooth groove of my pussy. I met his eyes – his dark, brown eyes – as he grabbed at the hem of my jeans and started to pull them down with the other hand.

  “Why don't you tell me a story?” He grinned, sliding the jeans over my thighs and pulling them down toward the floor.

  I bit my lip. “What's in it for me?”

  He grinned again, sliding a hand up the inside of my thigh. “Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something.”

  His thumb pressed gently into the groove under my clit, making my hips buck with pleasure. He was tormenting me with brief teases of what he knew he could do to me. He started making small, light circles over the fabric, tracing over the swirls in the lace and making me shiver with pleasure.

  “Mmh... what kind of a story?” I groaned, “I could think up all kinds of things right now.”

  “Tell me what you were writing the other day.”

  I blushed, remembering. He'd come home from work and caught me in the bedroom, my hand between my legs and my laptop closed to one side. Last year I'd started writing erotica in my spare time to help with the bills, but that was the first time he'd ever seen me so caught up in a story. He'd stood there in the doorway, watching me as I came harder than I ever have before. Afterwards we'd made love, but he had asked what it was I'd been writing. He'd been on at me ever since. Maybe now was the time to tell him.

  “I could tell you about the story I was writing when you found me.”

  He perked up, looking up at me as his thumb started to circle towards the edge of my underwear, to the inside of my thigh.

  I moaned. “I could tell you about that.”

  He laid a single kiss on the inside of my thigh. “You could.”

  I bit my lip, suddenly a little self-conscious. “It was about a couple. A girl, really. She decides to give her husband a sexy surprise.”

  He kissed my thigh again, a little higher. His breath was hot against my skin, and I could feel my arousal growing as his kisses inched further and further up my leg. With his thumb, he began slowly easing it under my underwear, stroking and teasing the sensitive flesh there.

  I continued with a sigh. “So he comes home, and there's roses all up the stairs. He follows the trail of roses, and he finds her in the bedroom... with her best friend.”

  I let my lip pop out from between my teeth, closing my
eyes as his other hand slid up my thighs. He pulled gently at my underwear, separating the damp fabric from my sensitive skin. I could feel myself getting hotter as he slowly teased me.

  “They're both wearing lingerie. His wife is wearing the set he bought her for valentines day, but her friend is wearing nothing but a red silk ribbon, tied in a big red bow.”

  His thumb slipped under the fabric, sliding back over onto my clit. I moaned, pleasure rising within me. I could feel his fingers make contact with the wet, slick lips as explored slowly, pleasuring me.

  “Mmm... They're lying on the bed together, and his wife is running her hands up and down her friend's arms. She grins up at him and she says 'Don't you want to unwrap your present?”

  With his other hand, he grabbed the lace fabric of my panties and pulled them down, exposing me completely to him. I felt like I was dripping wet by now. I was helpless to hide my arousal from him, and judging by the grin on his face, he knew it.

  “So he drops his bag, and he climbs onto the bed, still wearing his suit from work. He reaches down and starts pulling at the bow. The ribbon starts to come undone, slowly exposing the girl to him.”

  His kisses were starting to get higher and higher up my thigh, almost at the top. The combination of his attention and the images in my head were starting to drive me crazy.

  “As... as the last piece of ribbon slides out from between her legs he can see for a moment she's completely shaved for him, before... Ohh, before his wife's finger slides between her friend's open legs.”

  Just the thought of it made me twist my hips towards his approaching mouth. I wanted to feel satisfied. I wanted the teasing to end. I wanted to feel his tongue sliding over me, making me come.

  “She gasps, already wet and responding to the wife's touch. The husband unzips himself and takes his cock out, firmly grasping it as they both... Ohh god, as they both lick their lips hungrily.”

  His face, his hot breath was just inches from my raw, wet pussy and the anticipation was making me pant, making it harder and harder to tell the story. I reached down, grabbing a handful of his hair, desperately guiding him toward my poor, sensitive pussy.

  “They suck him. They take turns, first his wife obediently shows her how he likes it, then she takes over while the wife slips... Mmh, slips her fingers in and out of her hot little pussy.”

  As I said those words, his lips made contact with my clit, gently sucking on the tip with the most delicate, sensual touch. I gasped out loud, feeling a spasm of pleasure shoot through me.

  “Mmmh... She starts to work up a rhythm, her friend moaning as she watches the husband plunge his cock into his wife.”

  His pace increased on my clit, and I could feel myself weakening. He placed his hands on the insides of my thighs, spreading them further apart as his lips closed around mine, his tongue sliding deliciously over my wet slit, his hot breath driving me crazy.

  I gasped. “Oh! Oh god yes! He fucks his wife in front of that girl! Mmh, he fucks her. He fucks her and fucks her and the girl just watches.”

  Sean took his mouth away, and I almost groaned with disappointment until I looked down to see he'd unbuckled himself, and had his cock in his hand. He lined it up, and with one quick thrust, buried it deep inside me.

  I cried out with pleasure, wrapping a leg around his back. “Oh god... Oh Sean, she's playing with herself and hoping she's next! Kissing the wife, putting on a show... Grabbing each other while...” I couldn't help it. He'd worked me up so much, I was going to come, and fast. “Oh god... Oh Sean I'm coming! I'm fucking... coming!”

  I felt the orgasm break inside me as his cock ploughed into me, each thrust flooding my body with pleasure, and his hot come. I shuddered as I came, clasping my hands around his broad shoulder as his thrusting became erratic, and then slowed.

  My breathing gradually returned to normal, and I looked around the room, my cheeks flushed and blooming with a beaming grin. I looked down at Sean, still kneeling between my legs, still buried inside me, his breathing still slowing from his own orgasm.

  I showered quickly, just to freshen up a little before the next potential lodger turned up. After the day we'd been having, I really wasn't expecting much, but it was bugging me where I'd heard her name before.

  I tried to work out why it seemed so familiar as I got dressed in the bedroom. I was heading downstairs with my hair in a towel when I heard voices from the living room. To my surprise, the girl had already arrived, and was chatting with Sean about her references.

  I coughed as I came down the stairs, and they turned their heads. The girl stood, extending a hand as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hi, you must be Poppy.” She said.

  “And you must be Lucy?” I nodded, shaking her hand. Very polite and well spoken for a start, which was good. She seemed a little uncomfortable though, as though something in her clothing was itching. And now I looked at her, there was definitely something familiar.

  We sat down, got to talking, and most of the discussion went pretty uneventfully. She was studying at a local college for a Phd had her head in her books most of the time. We explained our living arrangements, explained the rent, and she seemed fine with it. Everything seemed to be going really well, until she cleared her throat.

  “Okay, there is one thing I should mention to you. And to be honest I've been dreading bringing it up, because it's gotten me turned down from some of the interviews I've been to. So I'm just going to say it.”

  Sean and I looked at each other, frowning. My heart was sinking because up to that point, she'd seemed like a wonderful, friendly prospect. I didn't know what to expect. I was half expecting her to say she'd been in prison, or she had a baby, or some kind of weird pet that would stink up the house.

  Instead, she put her hands on her lap, looked up at us, and said it. “I'm a nudist. I prefer not to wear clothes, given the choice.”

  As soon as she said the word 'nudist,' the part of my mind that had been trying to place her suddenly clicked.

  Last year, we were halfway through a bottle of wine, and turned over the TV to find a documentary about nudism was on. For the most part it was old men, but there had been one section about a girl doing a doctorate on the cultural effects of nudism. She'd been quite eloquent on the topic, but also open about the fact that she herself was a nudist, as she sat naked on camera talking to the film makers.

  I blushed as I realised it was Lucy, and coughed. Mentally, I was now superimposing the mental image of her naked body over her without realising I was even doing it.

  I could see from the look of concern in her eyes that she was worried we were about to tell her to get out. I straightened in my chair.

  “I see. So, how exactly would that work? Living here I mean?”

  She shrugged. “Most places, I tend to keep my curtains closed in my room. If I need anything from downstairs I'll throw on a gown or a towel in case anyone is in. If I know for sure everyone's out, I might be naked around the house, say while I cook. But I'll close the curtains so as not to offend the neighbours, and keep the robe close by in case anyone does come home.”

  I nodded. “That seems reasonable enough. You're entitled to your privacy.”

  “Oh, it's not for my sake,” She said, “I really don't care who sees me. But other people do. I have to wear clothes to and from uni for example, otherwise I'd be arrested for public indecency. Anywhere it'd be otherwise illegal, I cover up. But in my office, and at home I tend to be naked. If one of you walked in unexpectedly, I'd be more worried about embarrassing you than being embarrassed myself.”

  Sean shrugged. “Well, we're both pretty open minded.”

  “I hope so. Most other people tend to be quite shy about nudity, so I try to respect others boundaries where I can. Like sitting on people's furniture without putting something down first.”

  I thought about my bare ass sitting on the couch just moments ago as Sean fucked me. I coughed to stop my thoughts from straying.

 
; I smiled politely. “Well, I suppose I don't see a problem with it.”

  She nodded, satisfied. “I just thought I'd be honest. I've tried not mentioning it, but then people get weird when they notice me walking around in a bathrobe all day. Then they find out, and I get kicked out. Or others who pretended to be cool about it, but kept hitting on me. The situation got uncomfortable, so I left – albeit with glowing references.”

  She motioned toward a handful of papers next to her application, rolling her eyes. “So now I try to be up-front about it. It means I get turned down a lot, I have to watch which places I accept very carefully, but I find it's for the best.”

  She looked down, almost saddened. I glanced at Sean. He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, and I took the hint. We were thinking the same – the nudity probably wasn't that big a deal, compared to some of the demands the other potential lodgers had made so far. She looked like a good prospect, and I think we both silently agreed we had to say yes before someone else snapped her up.

  I stood, extending a hand to her. “Well, I think we can definitely make you an offer of a room.”

  She ended up moving in a few weeks later, and we settled in to things pretty quickly. If I'm honest, it was a little jarring at first having her walking round in the bathrobe all the time, but we soon got used to it.

  I also started to find myself picturing her body, knowing she was stood there with a thin layer of fabric between me and the body I'd seen on that programme last year. Being around another woman I'd already seen naked was unfamiliar – at least since some of my more experimental days back in college!

  There were a few times we saw her – I got an eyeful one morning as she hopped out of the shower. She was holding the towel to her chest as she hopped past my door, but I still got a glimpse of her pale, smooth skin – not a tan-line in sight.