Against A Golden Sky

‘Today IS my nude day.’

I repeated that incantation to myself as the miles whizzed by. Today, I would release my raging exhibitionism from the torment of self-restraint. Each minute was a mile closer to the nudist beach.

The motorbike throbbed between my thighs, flighty and alive. The sports handlebars forced me to lean forward. The leather jacket, custom-made to accommodate my enlarged tits, rubbed against my perky nipples. Because I had only a bikini top on underneath. I wiggled in the seat, pressing down against the large plug I had inserted into my pussy. It always helped me enjoy the ride even more.

Wow. The living, pulsing vibration of the engine against the plug surged through me. It was such a buzz to feel the power in my pussy. I loved riding with it in, taking me to and, often in to, an exquisite orgasm. After the first squirting mess made the leather stink, I wore a period pad, but in my rush had forgotten today. I had to slow as an orgasm roiled within my body and soul. I would rather not gush in the leathers and soil them, so I lifted my ass up and squeezed my thighs, to sit a little more prim and proper. As much as I could sat, sprawled, legs akimbo, on the beast of a sports bike.

Was this what it was like riding a man, his hard cock searing my pussy like the plug conveyed the power of my bike. I had craved cock in me since the onset of puberty, but hadn’t defied my dragon of a mother. At Uni, I found solace in the freedom and visceral thrill of motorbikes. But fuck it, I should be done wondering, done with just using the by now, big girl toys. It seemed so easy for other girls to throw themselves at guys. But I knew it hadn’t been right for me until I was in shape, of body and soul. Not the insecure, overweight teen. Not the aloof, academic nerd at uni. With the good IT job and, frankly, silly money, I had been able to remould myself from what I was, to be the girl I always knew I should be.

Today was the day to reveal myself to the world.

I had said that before and lost my nerve. Today was the day I resolved anew. I gave the throttle a blip, getting a buzz from releasing all that power clamped between my thighs.

As if I weren’t feeling aroused enough already. I always knew I was a raging exhibitionist. Whenever I could get naked, I would, and then spend as much time nude as I could. So I had always craved to go to a nudist beach. I just had to hold my nerve. I knew I had a secret some might say, depraved, sensual nature.

I knew I was a cock-loving slut of a whore. I craved to be a cum-bucket for dozens of cocks, any ages, shapes and sizes. All, I hoped packing full loads of cum in their heavy balls. My fantasy was to let men use me as if they were raping me, until I could take no more. It was, surely, only ever a fantasy. My upbringing had made me feel so guilty for being so debauched by my desires. So I had repressed and restrained myself, finding comfort in food. It was, I felt, the only way I could control my body.

But the last few years, I had been free to accept myself. Today, in just twenty minutes, I would emerge, a butterfly from the chrysalis of contradiction, conformity, and confusion.

On this beautiful day, traffic to the beach resort was tailed back. But I could just blast by on my bright yellow crotch-rocket. Long hair streaming from the back of my helmet, custom, fine grain, leathers tight bound my, frankly, perfect, peachy ass and buxom bust. I enjoyed showing my butt to all the hot and bothered dads, as I flashed by. Crouched low, I ground the machine harder into my groin, surging on adrenaline and arousal. Relishing the power at my control, as I raced to be naked.

‘Eat dust and kiss my ass.’ I muttered. It was a popular beach, with a large, well-defined nudist area about a mile from the main strip. I had made the trip a couple of weeks ago, but lost my nerve. This time I would walk that mile and then strip. I would. I was twenty-five and, outside a locker room or medical appointment, it would be my first time nude with in front of people. To be seen naked in public, with the body I always craved.

I jumped the queue for the car park. Bikes had their space in some trees, where no car could go. Without the cooling air blasting by, the shade was a relief. A renewed surge of doubt washed over me as I stood with the silent, still bike braced between my thighs.

There was a gaggle of half-a-dozen hairy old dudes on big, shiny V-twins, lighting up their first smokes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them elbow each other. Those in the huddle with their backs to me shuffled round. Hot biker chicks were a rarity.

“Need a hand parking it up, sweetheart.” One offered. “That’s an awfully big bike for a slip of a girl, a top-heavy girl at that. Hop off and slip out the leathers, whilst I park it up.” He added, to some dirty chuckles from the guys. I shivered with the thrill of being objectified by these ugly, hairy-assed guys, all old enough to be my father. Or maybe even his father.

“I can manage.” I announced, removing the helmet. I shook my hair out. Sports bikes only had side stands, after all. “But perhaps you could help with the jacket and trousers. I got hot, wet and sticky.” I tried to give them a cheeky grin, but my strangled, high voice betrayed my nerves.

“They fit tight.” One of the younger, less grey-beards stepped up, appraising me. I knew they did. I had spent hours admiring what was underneath. It was such a relief after the torture of my youth. I used to and admire myself in the lacy bra and panties, borrowed from my mum. I would cum and cum just looking at myself dressed in the sexy lingerie. I didn’t need to touch myself to make me cum.

Latterly, with the freedom of time and money, my body grew into my autoerotic fantasy. I used a digital camera to take explicit selfie nudes and videos that now fuelled my incessant masturbation. Admiring my new, shapely and, frankly, gorgeous self, I could cum and cum, spontaneously squirting until I was spent. Then repeat a few hours later.

Be proud, I muttered to myself, be proud, Amber. It’s taken a lot to make my babydoll body, flaunt it. Be the sassy, bold, sexy slut I always knew I should be.

Turning my back to them, I unzipped as he gripped the shoulder padding. Straightening my arms, I stepped forward as he pulled back. “Wow, babe, what a treat.” He gushed as the gaggle bubbled with lascivious comments. I knew I should feel angry at their objectification of my barely covered boobs. Instead, I felt a giant rush, a thrill like blasting past the cars in the queue a few minutes earlier.

I was in control then. I shivered, determined to make sure I was in control now. Not that far away, visible through the trees, was the bustling car park. I might be in the shade, but this was no dingy back alley. Today I felt like I had it. At last, the body I was always meant to have. One for most men to desire. So let them. And enjoy being, at last, the raging exhibitionist I had suppressed for so long.

Today. Here. Now. Take a breath, Amber.

“It’s a lovely day.” I turned, jiggling my tits as they strained against the straps. Today I was determined to show off my fine rack. It had taken a few years to lose the flab I didn’t want and to then gain and, today, reveal the flesh I wanted. And the leering, lusty looks of the old, bearded bikers. “Want to help me get comfortable.” I turned my back and shimmied my butt, still tightly wrapped in the leather. “ All that sitting made my tush wet and sticky, too.” I added with a dirty, girly giggle.

“Does daddy know you are out and shaking it about like a naughty girl?” The man tossed the jacket onto my bike seat as I unbuckled and unzipped the fly.

“Am I being naughty, daddy?” I simpered as I bent, leather creaking and straining, to, first, release the boots, kick them off and then unzip the ankle cuff. Standing on pine needles, I stayed bent over much longer than was needed, looking back between my legs. The leather stretched even tighter, clenching my peachy butt. The five bikers I could see were slack-jawed but, most pleasingly crotch-tight in their jeans.

“I hope so.” The one behind me, whom I couldn’t see, grabbed either side of the waist band. Slowly he eased the tight, fine-grain leather down. The bikini-bottom was skirted, but with my hands free, I lifted the skirt up at the back. As my butt cheeks were revealed, I felt the hairy tickle of his chin and the dab of a tongue on one.

“Oh, my papa got cheeky.” I gasped, wanting to step forward and away, but unable with ankles trapped in the waist band of the crumpled leather. Then my secret, hidden, sordid nature flared, surging a shiver in my soul. It was the first time someone had touched me sexually. “One on each, daddy.” I wiggled my tush as best I could.

“Fuck it, bitch.” He whistled, then growled, relishing a face full of peachy, 25-year-old butt. He couldn’t know it was all pristine and virginal. I felt again the rasp of his grizzled chin and a longer, slurpy lap of his tongue up the other butt. “You are being a bad baby, in front of daddy, and his friends.” He growled, then we both reached down. I needed help wiggling my feet out of the leather trousers.

“I bet daddy likes his baby girl to be bad.” Staying bent forward, I let my sick, salacious spirit fly. Ten years, or more, of repression and restraint since the onrush of puberty and the petrified purgatory of living scared of my compulsions. I had been shaken and stirred into arousal on the ride. This time I had parked up, flicking the side-stand had decided my fate. I would, today, fly from the chrysalis of constraint and conformity.

I stroked my hands up my legs, reached round, hooked one finger into the gusset strap, teasing as if to pull it aside. But I didn’t, leaving it in place riding the crack of my peachy butt. I knew these old dudes were horny for the fresh young floozy who had just parked up. But hot as this was, I couldn’t just cast the last trappings aside.

I needed to be naked, at last. The families unloading in the cars parked just a few yards away, through the trees, precluded that. For now. Today was my nude day. But at the nudist section of the beach, which would be busy on a lovely day like this.

“But not too bad.” I straightened, smoothing the tiny skirt down into place, flicking the leather trousers up with one foot. I made to pack the gear away in the top box. “At least not here.”

“You’re a fucking tease, bitch.” The guy behind me snapped. I was still trembling with the thrill, but glad to have asserted control, and not let the situation run away from me.

“Always, buddy.” I giggled, shoving my gear into the storage, locking the helmet to the bike and slipping the sliders on. Beach bag in hand, I strode off to the toilets. A proper, well looked after block for this busy beach. In the privacy of a cubicle, I could pop the plug out.

I stopped for lunch at the cafe, sitting there enjoying the admiring looks at my tits, straining the rather too small cups of last year's bikini. But if I stuck to my plan, I wouldn’t be wearing it long. I had always dreamt I had a smoking, hot body. When I found my confidence and cut out the comfort eating, turns out I did.

I wasn’t, baby-doll pretty. More a handsome, athletic redhead, chisel jawed. A look that needed the confidence of an assured mind and some subtle makeup to carry it off. I couldn’t find that for so many years. Now I had that, or at least, I could summon it up when I could damp down the demons of doubt. Demons, which danced around my mind as I delayed heading down to the nudist area. Dragging out the last coffee, biting my lip for spite, so far to be so near, but still not naked.

There was a steady stream of people heading north, towards the nudist area. All ages, all body types. All seemed to be self-confident and matter of fact. All like it was no big deal. Damn it. This was what I had been wanting to do for years. Further up the beach, it was legal. The weather was wonderful. I looked good. But thought bad, weak-minded, self-doubting thoughts.

“Go, girl.’ I muttered to myself, swinging the beach bag over my shoulder and joining the stream of soon-to-be nudists. It was reassuring to realise I was just one of many, even if in some ways I was one of but a few. A mumsy, mature wife, in a loose wrap, and her handsome husband, hand in hand, were a little ahead of me. They would bump together, side-hug and giggle, unable to keep their hands off each, looking, even from behind, still in love. They were displaying the devotion to each other every child wishes to see. So I followed them as if their awkward daughter, as a mask to being alone.

The beach turned, hiding the nudist area from the main strip. Fewer ‘clothed’ groups went up this far away from the car park, cafe, and conveniences. Rounding the bend, the beach behind the big, bold “clothing optional’ signs got very busy again. And almost everyone was naked and, as far as I could see, not paying that much attention to anyone else. The simmering arousal that had been building in me surged to full fruition.

I stopped paying attention to that chubby MILF I had been following. She and her guy had stopped and stripped. Only for me to walk slap into her. She sprawled in the sand tripping on the bikini bottoms round her ankle, the jacket top flying, leaving her naked. I staggered and would have wiped the man out as well. But he jumped out of his swim-shorts and supported me with one arm.

His plump, near tumescent prick looked gorgeous, pointing purposefully. Below, a large, stainless-steel ring weighted his balls that hung and swung low like a bull. I eyed up the constrained, stretched skin of his scrotum. The surgeon had suggested she fit something like that on me when I was under, but I had declined. I loved the way it revealed each of his plump testes. Should I decide to opt for castration, stretching the skin of the scrotum would give her more options for further reconstruction.

As he caught me, his manhood briefly rubbed against my naked thigh. It was the first time a man had touched me like that. It sent an electric shock searing through my body, almost making me cum just from the momentary touch.

“Oh, God, sorry.” I blustered. Unabashed, the woman sat, legs splayed, displaying her florid mess of fleshy flaps, as hairless as the day she was born. As she giggled, her heavy, swollen boobs splayed so far either side of her, they rested on the sand. Connecting the two, she wore a Y-chain clipped to rings in her nipples and clitoris. Fuck, but when she walked, that must stir her up into a peak of arousal.

I noticed she checked out my bikini bottoms. The little, the skirt had been knocked aside and was caught in the hip strap. Displaying my all too obvious cock. Hard. Pushing out the thin fabric, revealing the vein and crown.

“First time here.” She said, a statement, not a question, as she offered me a hand to help her up. I nodded. “Alone?” I nodded again. “Just like my first day here, then. I just about did the same thing. I came in through the dunes, where it gets wild. Too busy eyeballing everything, I was having an orgasm as I gawped and walked over a couple of guys.” She struggled to her feet in the hot, loose sand. “Well hung and up for fun but, sadly, I was not their type!” She laughed raucously. Her lack of any anger at my clumsiness, unashamed nudity, helped put me at ease.

“Yes, um, it is. I can’t believe I am here at last.” I blurted out.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” She stood, arms stretched out, letting out a shivering sigh that shook her chain. She was vibrantly, vivaciously alive, making her seem vividly attractive from the allure of exuberance. “I couldn’t help but notice how excited you are.” She added, nodding down at my shamefully obvious cock bulge in my bikini, hooking her arm in mine. “First time out, sweetie. As well as first time here.”

“Yes, I have wanted to for so long. I am not sure if I dare.” I muttered, the old doubts, shame, and uncertainty rushed over me again. “It’s being alone. Everybody seems to be with somebody. You and your husband, for one.”

“Oh, you better get naked, sweetie. You copped a good look at us, and for sure we both fancy an eyeful of you, in return.” She tugged my arm to bring me near. ‘You aren’t alone here, sweetie. There maybe aren’t plenty of lovely, lush girls like you, but some.”

“There are?” I queried. The lady nodded, taking the hand of her husband.

“She can hang out with us, darling, can’t she, if it helps.” She urged. “Not being, not feeling, alone.”

“If it means I get to see her naked, of course M…M…Missy.” He stuttered, leering at my barely hidden tits and cock-bulge. Well, I was returning the lasciviousness, drinking in the beauty of both naked bodies, standing so relaxed and natural next to me. I hadn’t expected to be with anyone today, but to be aloof, observing apart from. Not being with, but isolated, as I had been all of my life. Much as I had told myself to be restrained. This wasn’t supposed to be erotic, but arousal surged through me. As they couldn’t fail to notice.

“There…sorry, I don’t have your name, sweetie. I am, as you now know, Missy and this most precious, rather cheeky cock,” She gave the tumescent member a flick. “Belongs to my son, my honeybun, Timmy.” She giggled. “Honestly, if I don’t fuck or suck it every couple of hours, it gets so impatient.” She let her fingers flutter down her son’s engorged penis, making him gasp.

“Gosh, wow. How splendid for you both.” I blurted, envious of such a deep connection between the plump mother and her handsome, well-hung son. They were intent on loving and supporting each other, so very different to my mother. The couple of hours might be a boast. But following them as I had, their obvious ease and connection left no doubt they were active lovers. “Timmy’s, um, cock looks magnificent, if I may say so.” I ogled his fine erection, my pussy clamping anticipating, perhaps, losing its cherry. Damn, but my cock throbbed at the idea of, at last, being with a man. “I am Amber.”

“Amber, suits your colouring and, perhaps, your story.” Missy gave me a sweet, encouraging smile. I nodded. She got the allusion. I had, for so long, felt trapped, fossilised as one thing. “Well then, Amber, off with your clothes. It’s been far too long trapped, like in amber, time to reveal you are a butterfly, free to fly today.”

Hardly anyone paid us attention as we stood and chatted. Because, all around, most others, were also naked; we were three among many. Mostly naked people, all just enjoying the beach; sitting, chatting, walking, paddling and playing. All seemed quite normal because it was. Yes, a few guys sported erections, a few girls had nipples so engorged they might burst. Some people gazed, but at all types, not just the cute or hunky. All body types abounded, with a surprising display of body jewellery, shimmering, catching the eye.

But no one bothered much, if at all, with us. My fear was unfounded; people would not stand around, staring, pointing, jeering at my renewed self. Just would not happen, not here, not today. I might get some obvious looks, leering, curious or scowling, but so were many others. Missy, for example, with her Y- chain so shiny and obvious, got attention from many people passing by. She loved it.

“So, Amber, is today your nude day?” Missy’s eyebrow arced, just like my mum’s. But it didn’t instil the stone-cold fear of disappointment and disapproval as that vinegary old bitch.

Missy offered acceptance and the promise of the new, wonderful world I had been searching for. I answered her, feeling empowered to embrace the slutty desires of my long suppressed sensuality;

“Today IS my nude day!”

To affirm my answer to Missy, I lifted the cups off my tits, shivering with the thrill of touching myself. It was months since the second enhancement. But I still flushed with autoerotic desire when I fondled and ogled myself. Apart from the pretty surgeon and a couple of handsome nurses, Missy and Timmy were the first to see my expertly and expensively crafted tits.

I had cashed in on my nerdy geek-ness in the last internet bubble. I had paid for the best. Not just tits, either. The surgeon had enjoyed expressing her skills and artistry in suggesting and creating the nips, tucks, tweaks and trimming of my feminisation. To make me look gorgeous, sound girly, and fulfil my compulsion to see myself as if a woman, I had spontaneously cum and cum obsessively, just from just looking, touching or thinking at my new gorgeousness.

“Wow, Amber, you are fucking stunning. Perhaps I should get the number of your surgeon. But they couldn’t work on my milk-bar.” She cupped her swollen udders in each hand, lifting them up with some difficulty, as they hung so heavy and low. “My baby boy loves his milk fresh.” She proffered me a plump teat to suck. Milk bubbled, trickling from the pores around her plump, well sucked teat and aureoles. Somehow, Timmy must be nursing, I realised.

“Not at all, Missy. They look full, plump, and lovely to me.” I protested. “How are you still lactating, um, from birth?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, sweetie.” She giggled. “I dried up after the Twins, seven years younger than my baby here, for twenty years. But he loved revisiting mummy’s milky bar when I nursed them. So when my baby came home to love his mummy, we wanted to retry.” She stroked her tumescent son. “Turns out some hormones, and incessant demand, turned me back on. It’s so fulfilling, nursing someone. Might work with you, guys dig it.” She sighed. “Latching on to mummy like they are a mewling baby again.” She beamed, an ideal of motherly devotion.

“Wow, that’s so beautiful. No wonder they look so heavy. How wonderful for you both.” I ogled her udders.

“And swing so low.” She swayed in emphasis, nipples almost down to her snatch.

“You must try it. Mum loves to share.” Timmy interjected, leering at his mummy’s well-used, well-loved milky-bags.

“Absolutely, it’s so much nicer than milking myself into a cup! But first, Amber, time to complete your reveal.” Missy took the bikini top from me, her eyes locked on the beautiful boobs Halima had crafted for me.

“I wasn’t brave enough to commit in full.” I blushed for the shame of not being emasculated, hooking my thumb in each side of the waistband.

“It makes you perfect, just like Auntie Steph.” Timmy looked like he wanted to wrench my bikini-skirt down. I slid the strap down, opened my thighs, expecting it to fall. But they snagged on my erection before Timmy snatched them away.

“What a woman.” Missy gasped as Timmy shivered and growled as they, and I, admired my priapic display. My prick poked from my, by now, hairless body. I enjoyed how it was so incongruous to the rest of my sissified body, emphasising the choice I had made to look feminine.

Missy had uttered the magic words I had yearned to hear all those years; what a woman. It had become my obsession, nurtured as I ogled myself in girly frillies for all those frustrated years. Countless, compulsive spontaneous orgasms imagining hearing those wonderful words. Today, from a woman, as if to a woman. Being unabashedly nude with, and accepted by this mature, sexy, incestuous couple, made me cum. Without wanting to, without meaning to, my body expressed my exultation.

It was wonderful, soul soaring, life affirming as I stood there, my cock spurting my new joy. My cum arced a few inches before splattering on to Missy’s tits, drooping as low they did. Then beneath them, on to her shaven, glorious, fleshy folds of true womanhood.

“God, I am so sorry.” I blustered anew, even as I admired my fecundity, dripping in thick skeins on this magnificent mother.

“Oh sweetie, for such a blessing I should thank you for,” Missy reassured me, scooping up my cum from her crotch. “It’s so hot, seeing a girl squirt like that.” She held my gaze as she sucked my cum off her fingers. “No need to apologise, sweet child. I cum the first time I come here, even after all these years. Someone interrupted me today.” She giggled as she collected more of my joyous effusion, proffering it up for Timmy to lap up.

“Mm, sweet.” Timmy savoured my joy.

“Oh, wow, I see, sorry.” The unhesitating acceptance of this wonderful couple was both exhilarating and empowering.

“I hope you want to make amends.” Missy’s eyes twinkled as she scooped up the last skein adorning her magnificent motherhood. “You owe me an orgasm.” She offered her sticky fingers for me to clean.

“Yes, Missy. I do.” I agreed. I had to hide my abundant messes from my ever disapproving mum. So I had always eaten, with relish, my joy.

“I will hold you to that, Amber. Now, let’s find somewhere to set ourselves down.” She took me by the hand, leaving Timmy to snatch up our various beach bags and stroll the other side of his mum. With her y-chain shining in the sun and jiggling between her heavy low-slung tits and clit, Missy looked majestic. Plenty of guys, especially the younger ones, but also plenty of hot girls, tripped over their tongues ogling Missy’s mature, mummy magnificence. Much to her delight.

Timmy had his fans, lots of the hunky types eying up his potent masculinity. His weighted bull-balls hanging half as low again as his swollen cock. The meaty thwack of his manhood across, swinging from thigh to thigh, helped to sustain his splendid, shameless erection.

So I was not the centre of attention I had feared. Those who looked at me were first drawn to my crafted tits. Then there was often a double take at my now swollen cock and balls, swinging in syncopation to the sway of my boobs. Missy whispered an assurance, affirming what I could see; that I was, for many of the guys, a living embodiment of their ultimate fantasy babydoll LadyBoy. Or their own stifled, and repressed ideation of being a woman.

Few gave me the sucked lemon expression I had feared most would. Missy urged me to shrug off their invective and disapproval. I had been struggling to get past the fear of that these last ten years or more. Since the perplexity of puberty, when I first realised I wasn’t like the other boys. But on my first Nude Day, my fears were unfounded. In the vast majority of people, I saw acceptance, or more often; desire.

I had craved to be seen, naked, with the body I wished. And, even more so, to be desired. And I was all of that, here, today, at last, arm in arm, with majestic Missy. Now I just needed to let myself be the shameless, cock-loving slut I always knew I was. As we walked, Missy was so open and explicit about her active sexual relationship with her so. It sounded so loving and joyful when I had been raised to believe incest must be sordid and sick. It made me emboldened to share, for the first time, by fantasy of being a cum-bucket whore.

Missy assured me the nudist beach was the place to let my butterfly free, after all. She asked if I was up to living that fantasy out, and I assured her I was. Would I have stepped out like this, swaying like a girl, swinging like a man, as I walked like me if I were alone? That I wasn’t sure. But fate had me bump into Missy and her loving, well-hung son, Timmy. Their simple acceptance, and unhesitating support, meant I was stepping out, naked, as Amber, with a confidence I might not have alone.

And it felt fucking wonderful. Beyond wonderful. As I enjoyed soaking up the leering, lusty looks, I, with Missy’s help, laughed off my renewed erection. She even sensed I was nearing elation again and stopped to spin me around and close in as if for a hug. Her body again hid and received the effusion of my spontaneous ejaculation. Dripping with my ejaculate, her hands gripped mine as she held my gaze. I saw her eyes roll in her head. I realised with delight we were sharing our bliss as if one.

Was she lost to the incessant rapture of the y-chain, snapping and tugging with each step on her plump, milky nipples and clit? Or was it sharing in the elation and joy of the young woman next to her? More likely, both. As she shuffled closer to hug me, her tits squeezed against my belly, oozed some milk out.

I felt a further spurt splash on my feet. Breaking my gaze into her eyes, I looked down as she gushed a second time, standing just a hands-width from me. It spat from beneath her belly flab and splashed down my thighs. I thought she wanted a hug. Then realised she needed support as her knees buckled, so we closed in, our legs sticky from our conjoined effusions of joy.

“God, it’s so fucking wonderful, isn’t it?” She rasped in my ear. “That’s the orgasm you interrupted.” She added, trembling against me as the ripples of her orgasm receded as we hugged it out. “Best go in for a splash and wash off!” She announced, stepping back. “Find us a spot, honeybun.” She shouted over her shoulder as she led me into the water.

This early in the summer, it was still cold, refreshing on this hot day. I went on tippy-toe as the chill touched my cock, but Missy urged me in to rinse off. The cold had its shrivelling effect, calming my stubborn tumescence. I didn’t put on such a manly display to emphasise my feminine choices, as we jogged back up the beach to rejoin Timmy. He had spread out the towels and arranged the other beach-essentials in the pop-up shelter hidden in the dunes.

I was overdue applying the suntan lotion. Missy and Timmy had stopped to oil-up ready back in the toilet block. When they applied it to me, it wasn’t with the brief, flickering touch of the biker dude. Missy at my feet, and Timmy at my head, knelt either side of me as I lay, face down, on a beach towel.sensuously they applied the suntan lotion. Timmy paid special attention to my butt, palpating my glutes to work the cream in. Then he dribbled it down my cleavage until it tickled my pussy.

“Oh, fuck, yes.” I moaned, already at a peak of arousal. Careless of everyone else there, Missy and Timmy were my world. As they were so salacious, incestuous, I felt with them, I could let the shameful slut out I had repressed for so long. Behind them, I noticed some guys were watching. I scrunched my eyes closed, pressing my face into the tower. The first ripples of an incipient orgasm washed over me. I scrunched to push my pussy against his fingers.

“Want to be fucked, honey?” Timmy circled one, then two fingers into my anal sphincter.

“No, God yes, but so far, only in my dreams, or with a dildo.” I gasped, my mouth dry, as he inserted them into my cunt, then began to circle and thrust with a syncopated rhythm.

“I thought so, honey, then let’s make it a special day for you. If you want to be that cum-bucket whore. So, do you?” Missy added, massaging my back.

“Oh, yes, Missy, I…yeeeees” I shuddered and squealed as I had an orgasm more powerful than any I experienced before. Racked by convulsions, roiled on the blanket, squirming into the soft sand. Sated and spent as I was, it was a dry one, my cock still soft; I let myself cum like the girl I was, not the man I had been.

“Good girl, what a good, sweet girl for mummy.” Missy murmured, stroking my hair. I glanced back round at her, then at Timmy, who sniffed then sucked his fingers. “Mummy knows best, doesn’t she, my honeybun.”

“You do, Mummy.” Timmy leered.

“Would you like to call me mummy, honey, be my little baby girl?”

“Yes, um, um, mu, mu, mummy.” I mouthed, bone dry.

“Need a drink, Honey-pie.” Missy asked, as I propped up on an elbow, still in the ripples of my dry-orgasm. I nodded, expecting her to pull a can out of the cool bag. Instead, she lifted and proffered a fat teat, squeezing it to extrude milk. “That’s it, honey, suck fresh from mummy.” She sighed as I latched on and, twenty-four years since last I did, took suck. The rich sweetness was rather too warm to hit the spot on this sunny day.

“Fuck, yes, mummy, that’s so hot. We can charge them even more to watch her suck you.” Timmy gushed. I guessed he and Missy maybe ran a webcam. A hot, fat lactating GILF would, I was sure, have an eager following.

“You do her front, honeybun.” Missy eased me off her milky tit and I lolled on my back. It felt as if it were just us three, nude together, on the entire beach. The other people hadn’t mattered when I couldn’t see them and was consumed by the desire of lust under Missy’s touch. Sitting back, though, I realised with a start that we were almost surrounded by naked bodies. Four in five were men. They screened us from the rest of the beach. I propped up on my elbows and looked around. There were none of the frowns and muttering of disapproval I feared. Instead, most of the guys displayed their approbation with their erections. A glorious array of cocks of all ages, shapes, size, cut, uncut, hairy and shaven bobbed around us.

“Fuck, we have quite an audience.” I shook my head in wonder.

“Not we, honey, you, and your fuck-lovely gorgeousness.” Missy chuckled as she squirted sun lotion all over my front. It ran down my lush boobs, dribbled over my cock, which was swelling anew, and a line dotted down my legs.

“Did they hear me cum, mummy.” I looked at her, askance.

“Heard, saw and enjoyed,” Missy gestured around to our audience. “Isn’t that right boys, you all loved the spirit of ecstasy this gorgeous young fuck lovely lost herself in? There was a rumble of appreciation from the small crowd.

“Oh, gosh.” A wave of self-awareness hit me. For fuck's sake, I was sat, splayed-leg naked, being massaged by the vivacious Missy and her leering, lascivious son. In front of a small crowd, all just as bare-assed, ogling and objectifying the three of us. Or, as Missy insisted, me. It was beyond what I might have dreamed as a fantasy for today.

“Lean into it, honey. We gathered everyone here around because of you. They want to look at you, admire you, lust at you, fuck you if it pleases you. Do you want mummy to ask them to fuck you?” I nodded. She turned to the crowd again, addressing them. “This lush, lithe, lovely lass wants to give you all her virginity today. Form a queue to burst her cherry, boys,” There was a murmur or anticipation and a flurry of activity to do so.

“They want to fuck me, mummy?” I gazed at the queue formed, what, ten, fifteen, more cocks jockeying in line.

“They sure do, honey. No judgement, apart from you are one smoking hot and sexy young fuck-lovely.” Missy turned to assure me.

“Oh, my, this is so much more than I ever expected for my first nude day.” I looked around, my eyes drawn to an abundance of expectant erections. Timmy had massaged the lotion into my legs and was working his hands around my stiffening prick.

“But more than you dreamed of,” Missy asked. “In your hottest, horniest dreams.” She added with a vivacious wink and a twinkle to her eyes. I looked round again, not a floppy cock among the by now, two-dozen guys shuffling as they stood, hard cocks in hand.

“No, mummy, it’s what I dreamed of. I…oh, oh yes.” I had to gasp, curling my legs to push against the sand. Timmy had started to stroke my now tumescent cock, circling each hand.

“Enjoy, let yourself put on a show for Mummy.” Missy whispered in my ear, as she spread the skeins of sun-lotion pooling on my belly and began to massage and maul my mammaries. “Film it, Timmy, so we can relive it later.” She leant down to whisper in my ear, pausing her palpitations to show me a bottle of lube. “How many do I let fuck you, babe?”

“I, I, oh, oh, oh!” I roiled under the teasing, tormenting touch of them both, then sighed, quivering long as all my breath left me. Timmy had begun to suck on my cock. The crowd murmured and shuffled in, creating a line of masculinity pointing at me. My head lolled back at the unfamiliar, long fantasied rush of sensuality as his tongue tickled my urethra.

“How many, honey, they are getting impatient. Do they draw lots, or something.” Missy urged. Panting fast, my eyes ran around the circle of gorgeous cocks, the full rainbow of size, shape, and foreskins. More expectant men had rushed over.

“Is, is, is that f, f,f, full, mummy,” I stuttered, nodding down at the lube bottle. Zipped in the side pocket of my bag, wrapped in plastic, was my favourite dildo, which was well over life-sized. Countless times I had hammered that into me, or it suckered to the headboard to impale myself on to it. All in the desperation of simulation for this moment.

“It is, and the finest kind, slick as silk.” Missy assured me, tweaking both nipples. But after a couple, the cum will do it for you.”

“Oh, oh, oh, mummy.” I struggled to catch my breath, eyes racing around the compendium collection of cute cocks. “All, all, all of them.” I answered. Then relaxed and relapsed into the ecstasy of orgasm as Timmy sucked me to climax. A last dribble of thick, gritty seed seared from my balls. It scoured the length of my urethra.

“Good girl, such a good girl for your mummy. On your hands and knees, honey, time to be the cock-loving, cum-bucket slut of your dreams.” Her hands slipped underneath to roll me onto my front.

“Is it, mummy?” I asked, as I knelt, legs splayed, ass in the air, the gentle breeze kissing my virgin cunt.

“Absolutely, trust that mummy knows best.” Her lips brushed my ears, her words just for me. “You were born to be a whore. You have yearned to be a cum-bucket.” I moaned an affirmative.” You got yourself the body of a whore.” I assented again. “So be the cum-bucket whore you know you are, and be a good girl for mummy, here, today.”

“Fuck, yes, mummy. Make them fuck me. All of them!” I answered her loud, to an approving murmur from the queue. Missy slid the probe of the lube into my asshole and squirted.

“You boy, yes, you lad. Don’t worry, no one will miss out.” Missy called the first one forward. He was behind me. I never saw his face, this man, the first to defile my virgin cunt. I felt his cock nuzzle against my pussy.

“Fuck no!” The guy moaned, with disappointment, as I felt a warm, wet splash over my ass. Over, not in. Poor boy had PE’d.

“Happens to everyone, kid. Out the way.” Missy had assumed the role of gang-bang boss. “Lube up, Micky. Your meat needs it.” She ordered. Obviously the guy was known to her and must be well hung.

“Brace yourself, babe. Little Mick’s big dick won’t leave you disappointed.” The next guy knelt and shuffled in to place. His rough hands forced my crack apart, then his cock rammed against my cunt. Instinctively I swayed my ass back, ready and receptive. Oiled as we both were, he penetrated me with a powerful thrust. My shriek of delight drowned the slap of his groin against my ass. Years of craving to be a cock-loving slut. Countless times buggering myself with dildos of ever greater length and girth, wishing it was a cock. All of it was for this moment as he stretched my pussy and pounded against my colonic sphincter, before, with an explosive analgasm, he ruptured through it. Oh, he was big.

“Yes, yes, breed me, big boy, breed me!” I implored, only wishing that could be true. Regardless, he set to inseminating me with urgency, grinding his hairy crotch against my butt. My tits swayed with each thrust, my balls swinging and slapping against his in time to the rhythm of his urgent copulation.

“You bitch, fuck, you bitch. Yes!” Roared the man, a stranger I never knew or saw, whose insemination of my barren pussy forever stole my virginity. And I was glad to see it gone. My analgasm somehow upped a level, an explosion of sordid relief at my long-desired defilement. There was no tenderness from this man, not one scintilla of romance or affection. I was a cunt to be penetrated and inseminated. It was that simple. He was as subtle as a bull, riding and ravaging me until, with one last mighty thrust, he blessed my colon with his seed.

Before I knew it, with a wet fart, his cock flopped out, and he had rolled out of the way. Immediately, another man thumped down behind me. Wordlessly, he clamped his arms around to grab handfuls of tit. As his stubble scratched my back, his stiff cock slipped into my cream-pie snatch. He let out guttural grunts in time to sharp, thrusts before he whimpered and fell away.

I was convulsing to orgasmic blasts convulsing my body, sense, and rationality evaded and eluded my racing mind, like I had never known. My rectum was contracting, flaring my anus as another, then another set to sodomise me with all the vigour they could muster. Relentless ravaging of my ass, one after the other, before I could gather my shattered shards of sense and implore them to slow, or stop.

“Be the slut, honey. This is being a cum-bucket whore you know you are.” Missy stroked my head as I glared up at her, wild-eyed. “You can’t let them down, baby.” I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry. She dropped her ear to listen, but I could barely stutter. “No, honey, don’t stop, more are coming over. Let them all fuck you.” She stroked my hair again, as yet another unknown man pounded his cock into my gaping, cum-gushing gash.

I wasn’t controlling anything. My body was afire, my rectum clamping as I shuddered with repeated orgasms. Barely able to snatch a breath, sweat ran over my body. Slops of sperm slithered out of my savagely sodomised snatch. Looking back, between my tits, my inner thighs, cock, and balls were coated in the conjoined cum of all the cocks that had crowed in triumphant ejaculation. Sticky pools of sperm began to pool on the towel between my knees.

I was losing count of how many cocks had ravaged my, by now, wrecked anus. Each was fresh to ploughing their bodies against my ass, hammering their cocks to scatter their seed into me. I slumped my head down, I could barely breath, thought was elusive, I was just being, being a cum-bucket for these strangers to fill. As one guy slopped out of my sopping snatch, with a rushing, gushing fart of cum, another plopped in to the fetid furrow of my vitiated pussy. I was about to moan a protest, not sure if I could sustain further violation, when Missy grabbed my hair and pulled my head back hard.

“Don’t stop, whore.” She snarled. “More guys are coming over, honey. You are going to have to double up, to meet demand.” She guided a cock to my lips with one hand, forcing my mouth agape with the other. Before I knew it, the man smacked his hands round the back of my head. “Time to be the slut you always dreamt of, honey.” Missy declared. “Give it to her, Jack, good and hard.” With all his might, he rammed my face against his belly, so his hairy balls mashed against my chin. Against my gagging, he forced his prick down the back of my throat. I wasn’t giving him a blow job. This was urgent, invasive irrumatio as he copulated into my throat as forcefully as the savages at my ass sodomised me.

My retching made no difference. With his cock in my throat, his cum spurted into my belly. As he fell away, Missy again lifted my head, muttering urgent imprecations for me to continue. Another cock slammed into my face before I could sob a protest, or gob out the first load of cum. This pattern of spit-roasting continued beyond my counting. Beyond any sense of self or sense. Endless convulsions racked me, from an excess of pleasure or from revulsion at my violation. I did not know, and could not tell.

Was I being raped? Or was this what my secret, sordid slut of a soul had craved? I did not know, I could not think. If I wanted my violent violation to stop, I felt I could. If I summoned up and uttered some manic beseeching to stop the brutal buggery and invasive irrumatio, it would. But in my heart, I didn’t want to. Sickest, darkest of all had been my rape fantasy, and here on the beach, on my nude day, I lived that out.

I had wanted cocks, and cocks I was getting. And let them cum.

Yet more cocks pounded into the sloppy, soggy mess of my asshole. Cum squirted with each thrust and my incessant rectal clenching. At the other end, I gagged, retched and puked as cock after cock seared against the back of my throat. When I could, I would spew cum one end and shit it out the other, in the brief moments without a prick pillaging my holes.

To these men, I was just a cum-bucket in which to pleasure their hard cocks, to express their imperative to breed a bitch. One after the other. I had no clue who any were. I saw few and would recognise none. I was gasping for breath, my asshole on fire, my throat scraped raw, my tits bruised from repeated mauling. Unable to support myself, as one more cock flopped and farted out of my cum-bucket of a cunt, I collapsed, splashing into the pools of cum collected beneath my ravaged body.

“The pretty little bitch is done, boys, all fucked out.” Missy announced, as I writhed, beyond tired, beyond aching. My tummy roiled, and I turned my head as I vomited up gobs of cum. “Need a drink from mummy, honey.” She asked. I mumbled affirmatively. She shimmied into position, sliding on the slick mess of semen. Grateful for the comfort and refreshment, I latched on to her plump, well sucked teat.

“That’s one way to lose your virginity.” She stroked my head as I suckled, the warm, sweet cream soothing my throat as my aching anus farted out bubbling cum.

“How many, mummy.” I croaked, Missy chuckled.

“Lost count honey, but Timmy filmed it all so we can work out the score later. You were such. Good girl.” Her praise made me mumble into her tit. “What’s that honey.” She asked, popping her teat out.

“Thank you, mummy.”

“Oh, honey, I know a kindred spirit, a slut with the heart and holes of a whore when I see one. I hope you can walk after all that.” She squeezed her tit. A stream of milk ran down for me to lap up.

“I hope, but no way I can ride my bike home.” I muttered.

“God no! You can have a lift and stay with us, honey.” She stroked my head, a belch of milky cum filled my mouth, I had to hawk it out into the sand.

“I have nothing to wear! No way I can get into my leathers.” I murmured, which made her laugh.

“Oh, honey, nude is fine with us. We have a spare toothbrush, that’s all you need when you stay with us.” She shoved her teat into my mouth again. “You can’t be hiding your smoking hot body any more. You found out today, your nude day, why you paid to get that body.”