They were six college friends, three women, three men, who came together to rent a cabin on a Florida beach for Spring Break. They were not dating couples, just classmates who united over a desire for a vacation getaway, at a time when their usual ‘besties’ went home.
The rental was a small two-bedroom cabin, with the girls sharing one bedroom, the guys the other. One shared bathroom and a small living room. Not a lot of privacy in such crowded quarters, but everyone was respectful of the other’s space … until the incident with the outdoor shower.
The shower in question was mounted on the side of the house, and people coming from the beach rinsed off there to avoid tracking sand into the house. The shower stall consisted of partitions on two sides and a curtain on the front. It was open to the sky at the top. There were hooks against the house where one hung towels and clothes. Most people would remove their bathing suit outside and hang it on a hook, then scurry into the enclosure. There would be some flashes of bare skin getting in and out, but everyone was polite not to look. Until someone did.
The window of the guys’ upstairs bedroom was directly above the outdoor shower. If one were so inclined, a gaze down from the window would reveal the nude body of the person showering below. Billy was in the bedroom and heard the water running. He went to the open window, leaned out, and saw Melissa’s naked form turning in the shower, as she rubbed her body with soap. When she raised her arms to apply shampoo to her hair, her ample bare breasts were on display. Billy watched those large protrusions from above, wondering if such mounds were ‘real.’ He was almost certain she was natural, seeing how the breasts swayed and drooped as she bent over to wash her legs. But he needed a good long look to make sure.
Melissa tilted her head back to wash off the shampoo, and as her gaze went skyward, she saw Billy hanging out the window, watching her. Her mouth fell open. Billy saw that she saw him and quickly pulled his body back inside, hitting his head against the window frame. He cried out in pain as Melissa cried out in surprise.
After she was dressed, Melissa went into the house. “That creep Billy was watching me in the shower,” she complained to the others. The women were sympathetic, but one guy, Brad, laughed.
“Is it that big a deal?” he asked. “I mean, you’re almost naked with that skimpy bikini anyway. He only saw a few more inches.”
“You’re joking, right?” Melissa asked.
“No. We’re all adults, and you don’t have any different body parts than every other woman in creation. What’s the big deal? You should be less sensitive.”
If Brad thought his mature philosophizing would calm things, he was mistaken.
“I should be less sensitive? Is that advice good just for the women? You’re wearing a Speedo bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. Only a few inches of fabric between your guy parts and daylight. Mind if we have a peek?” said Melissa.
“Yeah, Mr. Big Shot,” added Joan. “Every guy is built the same, right? What’s the big deal?”
“Calm down, ladies. You’re getting hysterical over this,” Brad advised them.
He wasn’t aware, but there’s 1,000 years of history in characterizing women as “hysterical.” He might as well have thrown a match into gasoline.
“Really! Is that what you think? Hysterical?”
“What a jerk!”
The three women surrounded Brad’s chair.
“Stand up!” said Melissa.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Still unclear as to what was going on, Brad stood up.
Melissa grabbed both sides of his bathing suit and yanked it down. Joan simultaneously pushed Brad, and he fell back into the chair. Melissa pulled the bathing suit down and off his legs. Brad was now naked.
“What the hell!” he yelled.
Brad surged forward to retrieve the bathing suit. Melissa tossed it to Carol, who tossed it to Joan. There was laughter from the women as Brad stumbled around the room with his genitals flopping, following the tossed garment – unsuccessfully, as Joan tossed it out an open window.
The one other guy in the room, Kevin, laughed over this little comedy. When it’s not happening to you, it’s easy to see the humor.
Just then Billy, the cause of all this, came downstairs, having heard the commotion.
“What’s going on?” he asked innocently.
“This is all because of you, idiot,” said Brad, covering his privates.
‘Huh?”
“You should be the one bare ass, not me,” said Brad.
“I beg your pardon?”
Joan helpfully offered an explanation. “We’re having a CFNM day,” she said, with a smirk. “Brad’s just the first – all guys have to be naked today.”
“We do?” said Billy, again in innocence.
“Yes, let us help you,” said Melissa.
The women went to him, one pulling his T-shirt up, while another grabbed his swim trunks. The force of their surprise assault caused him to lose his balance and he fell to the floor.
“Hey!” protested Billy. But the three women swarmed him. Six hands tearing at his clothes were too much, and in short order his swim trunks were around his ankles. He moved to cover himself, but Joan pulled his hands away.
“Don’t get modest on us!” she said. “You started this; let’s see what you’ve got.”
His penis, initially shriveled and small in a bed of curly black pubic hair, began to swell as female hands and eyes examined it. It crept upward until it curved over his abdomen.
While the ladies were assessing their victim’s naked body, Brad decided to even the odds. “There’s an old expression,” said Brad. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” With that, his naked body lunged at Melissa, pulling at her bikini. Kevin, up to now an observer, saw where this was headed. He moved to Joan with a big grin on his face. “You won’t be needing this.” He grabbed at her T-shirt. She twisted to flee, but Kevin was too strong. He yanked the T-shirt over her head. The pulling of the shirt lifted the bikini top, and half of one breast hung exposed. Kevin reached behind to untie the bikini, to finish the job.
The grabbing and pulling at clothes might have continued but for the ringing of a cell phone. Somehow the interruption for the need to answer a call brought the frenzy to a momentary halt.
Melissa answered the call, explained to her mother that everything was fine – and that she’d have to call her back later.
Then she turned to the others. “Guys, truce. You want to see naked skin? OK. But everyone’s equal in this. We like looking too. From now on, this cabin is a clothing-free zone. Agreed?”
Heads nodded. Melissa reached behind to untie her top. “On the count of three, everyone strips. One, two, three!”
With that, the women, the men, removed their remaining swimwear, tops and bottoms. All of them were naked. All had attractive bodies, with tight, firm buttocks, reflecting their youth and athleticism. Two of the girls had full, attractive well-formed breasts. Carol’s were small, almost guy-like, although with large nipples. The girls had neatly trimmed pubic hair, unlikely the guys, whose body hair curled in a tangle by the genitals. Two of the guys were circumcised, and the one who wasn’t was the object of some curiosity from Carol, who had never seen one uncut.
“Wow. Does it feel different to have all that extra skin down there?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Cliff. “I’ve been like this since forever.”
After the exhilaration and curiosity over first seeing others naked settled down, Melissa spoke.
“Everybody get a good look. Get the novelty out of your system. No secrets. This is how we stay for the rest of the trip. Now, who’s hungry for dinner?”
And so it was. They wore bathing suits when they went outside the cabin, so as not to shock the neighbors. But inside, they were nude.
There was no more peeking at people in the shower. No need. But Melissa’s thought about getting the novelty out of their system didn’t play out. The more they were in the buff, the more they reveled in it. The freedom of not wearing clothes, of the air touching all parts of the body, of seeing breasts and penises of varying sizes and shapes, was a delight they had never experienced before. Everyone went about the day unashamed, with no one covering themselves.
Their nakedness was the perfect excuse for some fun, and they held a body painting contest one evening. Every inch of skin was fair game. The guys used brushes and water color paint to decorate the naked bodies of the women. The ladies lay on their backs while breasts and nipples were painted in bright colors. Stripes led down the chest to the groin, where the folds of the vagina were outlined in colors. The women reciprocated, grabbing hold of the guys’ genitals to decorate, resulting in multicolored penises with brightly painted balls. The sensation of hands stretching a penis, to allow a brush to drag against flesh, caused more than one penis to expand – requiring more paint, but easing the task.
Under the cover of darkness, they snuck down to the beach to wash off the paint. There was one older couple walking the beach who spotted them, but good-naturedly complimented their artistic talents.
The six floated in the sea water, taking turns rubbing each other to help remove the paint. In truth, the ocean waves were more than sufficient for that task, but it was an excuse for the guys to rub and manipulate breasts and groins. Girls pulled on penises to shed the color there and rubbed the balls clean.
But if the intention was just for a visual feast, nudism without the complication of sex, that intention was washed away like the paint in the ocean. The sexual tension in the cabin couldn’t be ignored. The six divided into couples. Lovers for the week, they agreed, with no commitments. But with only two bedrooms for three couples, some rationing was in order. Or was it?
If they had no shame in appearing naked before each other, did they need closed doors when they made love? Did a flaccid penis need privacy if it became erect? Did nipples have to be concealed if their hardening showed arousal?
The question was answered without words, when the group was watching TV that evening. Mellissa and Billy were seated next to each other, she leaning her naked body against his. Billy’s arm was casually draped over her shoulder, a hand cupped under a breast. Melissa’s hand in turn was in Billy’s lap, idly stroking his penis. Soon, the soft caresses caused the penis to stir. The mutual touching grew more frenzied, and Billy pushed Melissa onto her back on the couch. He placed himself on top of her, their mouths intertwined.
“You guys want the bedroom?” Mary asked, as it was obvious where this was headed.
“I’m not stopping,” said Billy. “If you guys are easily shocked, you should leave now.”
With that, he thrust himself inside Melissa. She groaned and grabbed onto his buttocks, pressing those cheeks firmly forward against her body.
The others watched and listened to the sounds of their lovemaking. The open display was, in retrospect, a natural outcome of abandoning the societal constraints of privacy.
The others listened to Billy’s grunts and Melissa’s moans. When they climaxed, no one was shocked, but likewise no one was unmoved. Sex, open, passionate sex, was the next step in their sybaritic journey.
Plenty of sex took place in bedrooms, sure, but for the rest of the week, open displays of sexual pleasure filled the cabin. No secrets meant no secrets, and their animal desires included acting on impulses wherever arousal occurred. When they were back on campus, they’d return to their lives and their usual boyfriends and girlfriends. And back to wearing clothes, and proper sex in proper surroundings. For one week, though, it was an unforgettable exploration of nudity and desire. Some said it was a once-in-a-lifetime event. But Melissa noted that there would be Spring Break next year, too. She’d already reserved the cabin.