Opening Up

Amateur

My name is Greg Hartsfield. I wanted to write about something that happened years ago that opened my eyes about people. My wife’s name is Carrie.

It was hot. Sweat rolled off me and dripped into my eyes. I was helping my friend Hank build a cinder block wall around his back yard and the new in-ground pool he and Sara had installed. There was a nice hot tub too. Hank said it was big enough for at least eight people. I thought those eight people would have to be really good friends.

The wall was nearly seven feet high and we were nearly finished with the last side. Ten blocks high that enclosed more than the shorter fence that enclosed just the pool and patio area. A gate at the back of the fence let onto a good sized yard and a garden. Hank and Sara owned a pretty good sized chunk of land, though. The property line was still another twenty feet away in back and about ten feet from the wall on either side.

Not that it mattered at the time, since there were no neighbors within at least a half mile, but Hank wanted the wall so he and Sara could swim, garden, and hot tub naked. He said I could bring Carrie over to swim with them, too. I would dearly love to skinny dip with Sara, but I knew Carrie would be against it.

Sara called from the shade of the patio. She offered cold beer and we gladly accepted. Sara was wearing a little green bikini and it set off her dusky skin tone well. her bare skin was shiny with suntan lotion, not that she needed a tan. She said her grandparents had come from the Middle East. I wondered what she looked like naked. I bumped my mind off the subject. I was stiffening in my shorts. I closed my eyes and sipped the frosty liquid.

Back then, Carrie and I were the same age – 29. Hank was about ten years older and Sara was 34. I had worked for Hank for a while in the past. He’s a construction foreman and hired me three summers while I finished college. Now, I’m a reporter for the local paper and Carrie is a teacher in town.

“So when are you gonna bring Carrie over to swim, Greg?” Sara’s syrupy voice brought me out of my reverie and I opened my eyes and gave her a smile.

“Well, as soon as I can talk her into skinny dipping just with me, maybe she’ll be more amenable to joining you guys. I don’t know if Hank told you but I went to a couple of naturist places before I met Carrie.” She nodded and frowned a little bit.

“Well, you can take a dip if you want to. In the meantime, maybe I can pick her brain a little. I’ll invite her to lunch next week.” Sara didn’t work. Hank’s salary and investments made that possible, as well making all of the things they’d done to their house possible. Carrie and I struggled financially, but we were okay.

I finished the beer but turned down a second one and the swim that day. I had to go home, shower and run down one of the town council for an interview. Hank said he could finish the last row of blocks himself. “Then we’re gonna strip and dive in,” he kidded me. I glanced at Sara. She was grinning.

“Is that you, Greg?” Carrie’s voice came from the kitchen.

“What if I said no?” I joked.

“Well whoever it was would just have to have his way with me, I guess.” She came in grinning, her naked body beautiful as always, and we kissed. “Phew!” she fanned the air. “You stink! Councilwoman Wilson won’t like that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll wear these dirty shorts downtown either.” I headed down the hallway, tugging my shirt off and unbuttoning my shorts. She followed me.

Carrie sat on the toilet lid while I showered and we chatted. Since she hadn’t seen Hank’s pool yet I told her almost all about it. I left out the nudity for the time being. When I got out to dry, she grabbed my dick and pulled me to her. She gave the head of my dick a sloppy slurp and released it. She loves to watch it rise up, like a cobra, she says.

“You’re going to make me late for the interview, babe,” I told her.

“Oh no. We need the money. You be a good boy or there won’t be any of that later,” she warned me, pointing to my groin.

I did the interview and went home. There was a note telling me Carrie had run to the store. I stripped down again, and stayed naked. In the den/spare bedroom, I booted up the computer and typed up the article for Friday and sent it off.

A little while later, my editor approved my story and emailed it to the copy desk. I got a beer from the kitchen and went back to the den. I don’t search for porn online, but I do have several favorite nudist and naturist sites saved. Some of those have some porn on them. I pulled one up and scrolled through the pictures. I thought about Sara and Hank and tried to imagine them naked and playing like the pictures, splashing around in the cool water. It’s funny, but nearly all the women on even the tamest nude sites sit with their legs wide open. That hadn’t been the case when I’d gone to the nude place.

Between the pics and my thoughts about Sara, I was erecting. I stopped at a shot of a woman with darker skin, about the same shade as Sara’s. Her nipples were large Betturkey and a dark, near purple color. Her shaved pussy lips matched them. I pictured Sara as the model. The woman in the picture had hair the same dark brown as Sara’s. She was with a naked guy with sandy hair on his head, but they were both shaved bare otherwise.

I looked at the guy’s dick too. It was soft but still good sized. It looked heavy. I scrolled on down. This page was for serious nudists. No sex, no really stiff erections. Still, as I said, a lot of the women sat or lay with legs spread wide, showing their pussy and asshole to the world.

There are other nude pages that don’t censor public sex in their pictures and short videos. Even married men jerk off. I was stroking, but not seriously, since Carrie had made me that shaded promise earlier. This was just a warm up.

I heard the garage door opening. I was getting another beer when Carrie came in the side door. She whooped at my nudity, complete with half erection. We put the groceries away, Carrie making special effort to bump my dick as many times as she could as we passed.

“Why don’t you strip and we can play, honey?”

“Oh I should shower first.”

“NO! Don’t you dare. You know I love you all sweaty and stinky,” I told her, grinning as I pulled her into a hug. She wrinkled her nose at me. But then she smiled, kissed me and gave in on the shower.

“But I gotta pee really bad so let me go.” We had a little tug of war for a second before she started to panic. Greg! Please! I’m gonna wet my panties!”

“I don’t care, I’ll clean that up too.”

“You are so fucking nasty sometimes,” she said, laughing and disappearing into the shadow of the hall.

I finished the second beer when her voice wailed from the bathroom. I went to see the problem. She was still sitting on the toilet. She looked at me with a pitiful expression and showed me the toilet paper in her hand. It had a smear of blood.

Some women don’t care whether they are having their period when it comes to sex. Some do. Carrie was one of the latter, though she had let me talk her into it a few times. She even said the sex was better when she was bleeding.

I didn’t give a shit. The last time she cringed when I went down on her while she bled. She cringed herself right into a screaming orgasm. Then she fucked me like there was no tomorrow, riding me until she came again.

“Honey…” I began.

“Augh!” she grunted. “Like I said…” But she stopped because I was unbuttoning her top. Her breasts were beautiful little mounds on her pale chest, the nipples a darker pink. She complained about not being bigger, but I always remind her I love tits like hers the most. She never had to wear a bra unless it was cold outside. Then it was in case her nips turned into pointers.

I knelt to remove her sandals, shorts and panties. I stayed there facing her, my hands on her knees. She frowned. “Greg! Are you gonna just sit there and perv on me peeing?”

“Yup. Besides, if you had to go so bad, you’ve had plenty of time.”

“You know I don’t go all at once. I have to let my bladder relax to let it go. That won’t happen unless you leave.”

“I have an idea,” I said. “Here,” I said and I ran my hands down between her thighs. I pushed her legs farther apart and gently peeled her labia open. The splashing, rushing liquid sound was loud as her bladder opened up. I kissed her as the hot urine ran over my hands and into the bowl. As the stream was slowing, I used both hands to fondle Carrie’s hot crotch. She was all wet; as wet as she might have ended up had she actually wet her pants.

She reached for fresh tissue as I massaged her pussy and clit. “Yuk, Greg. How do you stand to do that?”

“Carrie, you have ended up enjoying everything I’ve done with you sexually. Why can’t you relax? It’s just you and me here, baby, and I’m not gonna tell. She groaned as I sucked her pee and a little blood from my hands.

She flopped her back against the toilet lid and sighed. Before she wiped, she got a mischievous grin and raised her feet up, legs spreading even farther apart, to rest her feet on my shoulders. I watched as her mound and anus came into full view. She was bloody in spots. I saw that my hands on her legs had left red smears too. “Go ahead, then,” she said. “Is this what you wanted”

“Oh, honey! That’s exactly what I want!” I sighed, leaning forward and inhaling all the feral female scents of my wife’s body. Her mating scent was very obvious. She was well turned on. Carrie doesn’t shave completely, but she trims her pubes so all the good stuff was available to me. I started licking her thighs and worked my way up to the goal.

Carrie made reluctant noises at first but it didn’t take long for her to lose it. She pressed my head to her folds and I sucked and licked. It all made me dizzy. I even made it down to her little pucker. Carrie gasped when my tongue found her asshole. She won’t let me put my dick up her ass yet, but she loves analingus and my fingers inside her back Betturkey Giriş door when we’re making love. ‘One of these days,’ I was thinking, when she hit the mark and convulsed around me. She wailed and gushed juices, probably some piss too, and some iron tasting blood. I took as much as I could into my mouth and swallowed.

She relaxed and released me. I sat on my heels and looked at her. She gasped and then giggled. “Oh, man, go look at yourself.”

I rose to my feet, my hard cock bobbing in front of me. In the mirror I looked like a cannibal or something. Blood and girl cum smeared the lower half of my face. I wet a cloth and started to wash it off, but Carrie stopped me. “Come here first,” she said tugging my hand.

She pulled me into a kiss. Her tongue snaked into my mouth and rolled over mine and my teeth. Then she gave each of my cheeks a tentative lick before releasing me. I used the wet cloth to wash her face first of the contact smears she’d received.

“Well?” I asked her. “What do you think?” She had never liked kissing me after I went down on her under normal circumstances. I had been shocked when she wanted to taste her period blood too.

“It isn’t delicious,” she said, seeming to taste her own mouth. “But it isn’t as bad as I was afraid it would be.” I reminded her she’d used those very words the first time she had let me come in her mouth.

But I had to ask. “What brought that on all of a sudden?” She didn’t have an answer; she just shook her head, as if she didn’t know – or just didn’t want to tell me.

She rinsed the cloth and wiped herself off, then rinsed it again. She led me by the hand to the bedroom. I went back and grabbed a towel to spare the sheets. Back in the bedroom, Carrie was waiting patiently, not wanting to smear blood on anything by sitting down.

I spread the towel on the bed and Carrie crawled on all fours to lie on it. Lying beside her I gazed down at her blue eyes. She looked back at me. “Greg, I don’t know what made me do that. But…well, I’ve been…I’ve been tasting myself lately from time to time. Sometimes when I masturbate after working in the garden, like yesterday, I even have started lying with my dirty panties on my face while I masturbate.

“I have come (no pun intended) to enjoy my scent and even my taste. You are always wanting me to be more uninhibited.” She searched my face. I don’t know if she expected me to laugh or make fun of her. I did smile.

Instead of being shocked by her words, I just kissed her tenderly and stroked her breast. When I sat back up she added, “But I’ve never tasted my period blood until today. It’s…well, it’s not bad. I will stop being such a…prude about it. It doesn’t taste any worse than a nosebleed or a cut lip.”

“God, I love you. Hearing you say that makes me feel lighter, somehow. I want you to understand me better, and to learn to like the things I love to do with you.”

“Other than kissing you after you’ve gone down on me, I’ve loved everything you’ve done with me. You take me places I never dreamed were possible. I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to get past.”

We cuddled for a while before Carrie reached down to find my limp dick. Well, it had gone soft as we talked, despite the sexual nature of our conversation, but when I felt her small hand grasp it, it woke up again quickly. Carrie urged me upward and brought my cock to her lips.

She sucked me a while but I wanted to be inside her, stirring all her wonderful nectar together with her monthly blood. But when I started to get up she pushed me back down and rose over me. I slid over onto the towel and she held my stiffness pointing straight up as she mounted me.

She eased herself onto it, but once she was opened she didn’t stop until her little butt was on my balls. We made love without speaking. There were sounds from us both, but no actual words. Carrie posted, she slipped forward and back. She rotated her hips making me feel like a ceiling fan. I’d been so horny before and I pictured her with her soiled panties in her mouth, frigging her pussy mercilessly, drops of her milky juice flying through the air.

I added my own milky ingredient to the ‘Carrie Cocktail’ and kept stirring. I managed to squeeze one more orgasm out of her before we stopped moving. When I moved to go down to sample our mingled tastes, Carrie grabbed my messy cock, turned around and lowered her bloody, cum dripping snatch to my waiting mouth. That’s why I called it the Carrie Cocktail. It’s always delicious, and her blood was a special added ingredient.

I would rather take turns normally, but I knew Carrie wanted this special time. We spent some time loving each other end to end. Unbelievably, she managed to make me hard again. I felt her seriousness by the way she took me rhythmically into her mouth and out again.

The blow job was too pleasurable for me to continue tending to her. As my ‘new’ wife blew me I just kissed her crotch and groaned into Carrie’s crotch. What did the trick was when she pulled me farther down and licked my ass. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the base of my cock to stave off my orgasm while she wriggled her tongue into my sweaty asshole.

When she released my dick back into her mouth, my cum quickly filled any empty spaces. Carrie took as much of me as she could and then allowed me to feel her throat convulse as she swallowed three or four times. It was such exquisite torture, that feeling. After everything that went before, after our nearly ceremonial 69, and after her delaying my orgasm, my cock was almost painfully sensitive.

Though it was still afternoon, Carrie turned to lie against me. We kissed. She had saved some of my load to share, knowing it was something I loved. We nuzzled a few minutes before sleep took us both.

We woke up a while later and raced each other to the bathroom. Carrie won and her bladder didn’t seem too shy that time. We went and scrounged some leftovers for dinner and then I went to the computer while Carrie worked on her lesson plans.

About ten, Carrie kissed me goodnight, but I kept working another couple of hours. I tried not to disturb her as I crawled under the sheet next to her.

When the sun came through the curtains on Sunday morning, I woke up alone. Carrie’s side of the bed was cool. I padded naked through the living room and into the kitchen. Glancing out to the back yard I saw her on her knees in the garden working. The light blue sundress was all she wore, I was sure. Carrie’s no prude when it comes to being nude with me. She is just anxious about being seen naked by a bunch of strangers, even if they are also naked. I hoped her battle with her inhibitions would address that subject soon. Experience has taught me that, just as the day before, she does best without a lot of urging, so I sighed.

On our budget the only way we could afford a house (instead of an apartment in town) was to move to the edge of town where the older homes were. It isn’t quite ‘the other side of the tracks’, but you can see it is aging. The neighbors on one side had a large, fenced side yard. On the other side of our house was a vacant lot on the corner. Behind us was an alley, but there was a sturdy wood fence and thick trees inside the fence. Our back yard was nearly as private as Hank was making theirs but without the expense.

Carrie could have been naked in her garden, but she was skittish. I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out to see her. She heard the sliding door and looked over her shoulder. When she saw I was still naked she shook her head and glanced around nervously. By the time my toes were scrabbling in the cool, dark garden soil, she said, “Greg!” in a kind of loud scolding whisper.

“What? Nobody can see. Besides, I’m practicing.”

“Practicing? For what?”

“Well, Hank and Sara have invited us over to go skinny dipping with them.”

“Skinny dipping!? Hank and…”

“Yeah. Sara was the one who actually invited us. The wall Hank and I built is finished. It’s seven feet tall, honey. There’s no chance anybody will see us.”

“Hank and Sara will see. No. I can’t imagine that.” That is what I meant by letting her move at her own speed.

“I just wanted you to know. I figured you’d chicken out. But,” I said turning back toward the house, “like I said a little while ago, you’ve learned to enjoy what I suggest. Why balk at this? It isn’t an invitation to an orgy. It’s just nudity.

“I showed you those nudist videos and pages. You saw that nobody judges, and, while they look, nobody stares. Parents take their kids there, for Christ’s sake. I wish I’d been raised a nudist.”

“Honey, I…”

“Never mind. It’s okay. Maybe we can go somewhere nobody knows us and try a clothing optional place. You only take off as much or as little as you feel comfortable doing.”

“Maybe…” she mumbled. I wasn’t holding my breath. But she’d relaxed a lot the night before so I kept the hope burning. I continued to the house, to the den, and back to my nudist archives.

As I was dressing for work on Tuesday, the phone rang. I heard Carrie answer and her muted voice for a few minutes. I wandered out to the kitchen as she was hanging up. “That was Sara. She wants me to meet her for lunch.”

“Cool. She said she might call you.”

“I asked her to meet me at the sandwich shop near the school.”

“Good idea. You won’t have to rush to get back.” I kissed her, told her I loved her, and scooted out the door.

I didn’t have to be in the office at a certain time, being a field reporter. Some days I worked from home, naked of course, making phone calls and chasing down details for a story. But I wanted to remove myself from Carrie’s view before she started trying to connect the dots. She’d probably think I put Sara up to trying to convince her to go nudist. I didn’t but still, I felt like I was in a conspiracy with my wife in its crosshairs.

The work day passed without a disaster, so I counted it good. I got home a little after five to find Carrie sitting at the kitchen table (nude naturally), correcting papers and swearing under her breath. I kissed her upturned face and opened the fridge. I didn’t want to disturb her so I stripped in the bedroom and took the beer to the den, as I usually do.

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