Introduction:
Intro:
A few months ago I posted a story sent to me by “Paula” the daughter of one of my friends. I said a lot about her in my intro to her first story, so if you didn’t read it you may want to read the intro to find out a bit more about this little angel, now eighteen, who was writing first about something that happened when she was sixteen. It sounds like this happened maybe last summer when she was seventeen. I remember wondering last year if she was a virgin. I guess she wasn’t. I added the title “Paula’s Nipples” along with the intro to her first story because she, her younger sister, and her mother, all have large, succulent nipples, with hers being the largest. In that essay she talks a lot about them herself. This one she also sent to me untitled, so if you don’t like the title, blame me. – Oliver Mellor
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Paula
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I’m a nudist. I mentioned that in my last article. I’m more of an exhibitionist than I used to be. I really loved the fact that people read in XNXX what I wrote about myself. The last thing was something I mostly wrote last year when I was seventeen, about something that happened to me when I was sixteen. It helped that I keep a diary and had written a lot about it almost immediately afterwards. It’s hard to remember today that only two years ago I could get off on just having my nipples sucked and not be totally frustrated that it didn’t go any further. No, maybe that’s putting it too strongly. Let’s say I still love having my nipples sucked at least as much as ever. But if the guy doing the sucking is one of my lovers, I’d be very disappointed if he stopped there. I now know how really great it is getting fucked!
OK. I promised myself this wouldn’t be another “first time” story. I could write about that. It’s all in my diary, and I could simply smooth it out a little. I really liked him, though mostly because he was my first. After about three months we were stuck in a rut. Maybe you could say he was stuck in my rut and we both loved it. But I knew I wanted more experiences. Fortunately, after three months of weekly fornication his family moved away and I quickly found a new boyfriend, two actually. That might also make an interesting story. But instead, I’d like to talk about a game one of these lovers liked to play with me. It was a sort of mind game – “Imagine this!” he’d say and next thing I knew he’d have me as the center of attraction for a gang bang. He always started this after we’d finished fucking each other’s brains out when he had me in a very receptive mind frame. This boy’s name was Paul which is funny since my pseudo name is Paula.
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“Paula, you grew up as a nudist, didn’t you?”
………
Paul was new to the skin scene. I didn’t grow up as a nudist. I just went on nudist vacations. Most of the year we lived in the mundane world where people think nudists are sick or something. I learned early not to mention in the wrong situations, the nicest thing about our favorite beaches. I’ve heard about people who grew up in nudist communities. I wonder if they have trouble adjusting to the outside world? I also envy them.
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“Do you remember the first time you realized the boys were interested in your pussy?”
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The way the game worked, I didn’t have to actually answer his questions, just think about his suggestions. But I did tell him that I knew at an early age that boys and men seemed to take a special interest in female genitals. I first noticed this around four or five but thought there was nothing wrong with it. At eighteen I still think there’s nothing wrong with it. I was eight when I realized that this particular fact gave me pleasure. There was a young man sitting near me on the beach and I was sort of teasing him, sitting in a way that from his angle he could see my open pussy perfectly. He was probably around eighteen and embarrassed about his interest in the genitals of a pre-adolescent girl. He was also having an erection and trying to hide the fact. On nudist beaches guys hardly ever get erections. Maybe I was so forbidden an object for his lust that he found the situation unusually erotic. Anyway, the erection encouraged me, so I spread my legs even wider, looked directly at him, and smiled. I realize now that all I did was totally embarrass him. He immediately got up and walked away in the opposite direction, holding a towel in front of him. But before he was even too far away for me to tell, I could already see that the erection was gone. I learned two things from this. The first was, how much I enjoyed the kind of attention he was giving me and how much I missed it a few seconds later. The second thing was, that I should never suddenly embarrass a man in that way.
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“Imagine I’ve taken you to a place, a party in a hotel suite. There are a lot of my friends there, many of whom you already know. There are no other girls. First I assure you that no one is going to fuck you except maybe me. Second I tell you that I’ve told them the truth, that you’re a life long nudist, and a natural exhibitionist and that you’ve always dreamed of dancing naked on a stage in front of a room full of men. You’ve never actually told me this, but we both know it’s true.”
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I couldn’t remember telling Paul how much I loved showing off my genitals to men I didn’t know. Maybe he’d just seen me doing it on the beach and came to his own conclusions. In my mind I’m now imaging myself getting naked. I start doing it myself, but mostly it ends up being the men undressing me. I probably wouldn’t have been wearing much. I rarely wear anything more than custom dictates. For a party I would be wearing a deep plunge dress, and no bra. I hardly ever wear a bra anyway except for exercising. Lets say the dress is short, translucent, and clings to my thighs. Obviously regular panties would ruin the lines. Even thong panties would show through the skirt so I go without panties. I don’t mind at all if the guys can see a hint of my cracks, front and back, through the material. Was I carrying a tiny purse when I arrived? Doesn’t matter. I’m wearing a flimsy dress and high heels and nothing else. I could get naked in seconds. They probably don’t even want me to take the heels off. It’s supposed to be very sexy walking around naked in high heels. In my dream it takes the men a delicious long time to undress me. I suppose it’s because they spend all their time feeling me up. Paul is passing around a tube of KY and the fondling soon includes internal probing. Most of the time I can’t tell how many men or even how many hands are touching me. At one point I try to guess how many fingers are inside me. I conclude the answer is four, two in each place. When I look down I discover that all four fingers belong to different men.
When I’m finally naked they have me step up on this table in the middle of the room. This puts my genitals and anus up at their eye level, and makes me feel even more deliciously naked. Remember, I’ve already had my eighteenth birthday, and this is perfectly legal. I’m still too young to drink, but who has the time or the inclination for alcohol? I certainly don’t need anything to reduce my inhibitions. At this point I begin dancing. Like most girls my age I’m a reasonably good dancer. I also studied gymnastics, but not much. I never mastered a vertical split. But in my dream I can do them perfectly as part of a sensuous flowing dance routine. I’m not wearing leotards. Every time I raise my foot up over my head, I’m giving the men a beautiful view of my wide open, recently very finger fucked, pussy. I’ve seen videos of the girls performing at the annual “Nudes-a-Popping” event. All of them are very limber and most have big implants. Some can dance well, but most do the standard bumps and grinds. Maybe in a massive bra under a tight sweater, big tits look good. But in a nudist situation I believe having tits larger than C is a detractor. Yet so many of these women who perform naked professionally choose to have oversized breasts. In my imagination I’m one of the girls with medium size breasts, pretty much like my real ones. And don’t forget my nipples! Just like in real life the guys can’t stop looking at them.
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“From the ceiling on each side of the “stage” there is a rope attached and initially held out of the way. They are unfastened and brought to where you can put your hands through the loops. As you do this, the ropes are pulled upward, cinching the loops around your wrists. The ropes are cleated but they only get tight when the loops around your ankles are used to pull your legs apart. In seconds you’ve been transformed from a go-go dancer to a bondage victim fully incarcerated. Your helplessness is erotic to both you and your audience. Every man looking at you has a throbbing erection, including me. I get up on the stage behind you, already naked. My penis finds your asshole. It is already slippery with KY that has been put there by many fingers. You relax yourself, but the ease with which I breach you is still yet another source of delightful embarrassment. I enter you very, very slowly while you hang from your ropes. You love every second and every tenth inch of your impalement, yet you are dying to feel me fully up inside you. Long before that you are begging me, pleading with me to fuck your ass as deep and hard as I can. Some of the men are laughing, but even those men have a hand inside their pants. I don’t need to use my hand. I have your rectum giving me the equivalent of a warm, friendly hand job.“
……….
The anal sex was an unusual addition. Paul has never buggered me, never even asked. None of my lovers have. Perhaps vaginal sex is still too new and special. We were all virgins about a year ago.
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ps: This fantasy Paula and her boyfriend shared is kind of weird. I enjoyed reading it and I hope you people give her a favorable response because she obviously reads the comments and I’d like her to keep sending me these stories about herself.

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