The Great Outdoors

During my earliest teenage years, we lived near a canyon, that backed up against our house. I would play in the bushes and trees for hours after school or on the weekends. As I approached 10 and 11, my erection began to interest me greatly, and I would strip and sit naked in a tree or bushes.

I'd be erect, this young teen. I loved the feel of the sun on my naked skin. My body was becoming a complete and unified object, not just a hormone-d jangle of limbs and bruises.

Once I found an old Penthouse magazine and looked at the pictures of the naked women in it, not sure what to do with them. My pubic hair was only beginning to come in as a fine fuzz around my groin.

The feeling of being naked - out in the open - is very sexy.

I think those stirrings, which didn't result in masturbation, have marked the way I feel about nudity, and public exhibition, even if and especially if no one, absolutely no one else is around.

Which no one was.

But I don't think I'd be able to hang as a nudist. Would I really be able to walk around without an erection? Especially with all those natural milf-y comfortable-with-my-body women around? Those cocks? Those limbs and nipples?

I know too much. And the non-smarmy aspect of it makes it more erotic... I'm not talking from much experience. I never went out and was naked with a bunch of other people, not intentionally.

There have been other people in the room when I've been fucking someone. Sorta a drunk last-minute what-the-hell exhibitionism covered up by the dark.

I'm otherwise not sure how to go about it. The naturalism of it, the real people around, seems to be quite a turn-on, much more than mere flashing in public. Which has an illegal thrilling aspect to it. Being outdoors with other naked people is a weird variant on exhibitionism - it's not flashing, exactly. You're not trying to shock or be transgressive.

You're not in the middle of downtown.

More than once, late at night, I've gone outside at midnight into our backyard and stripped naked. I could hear the traffic. My neighbors' windows were open, some still with lights. Those responsible homeowners with kids did not know that the responsible adult next door to them was standing in his yard, naked, slowly playing with himself. Looking at the sky and dark houses.

These sensual experiences have certainly formed some of my responses to being outside, to being seen... even only in my fantasies. This serves as a more recent experiment.

My favorite time to make love with my wife is in the early afternoon, by the window. It's open, and sunny outside, coming in onto our bodies.

We can see out, and of course part of the thrill is thinking someone could see us if they just
looked.

Why keep it hidden, in the dark or behind doors, or under clothes - sex is such a great spectator sport.

Front-Seat Ellen

I lost my virginity in a car at a drive-in, to a girl that lost her virginity to me that same night.

Ellen and I had been dating for a while, and had gotten hot and heavy a couple of times. We knew that sooner or later we would go all the way with each other, if only to get it over with.

One weekend, Ellen suggested we go to a double feature at the drive-in. What was showing? She said it didn't matter.

During the first film, we began to pet, and finger each other's privates. She pulled her pants down to her ankles and looked at me with a look that said it all...without words.

I'd thought we would wait until the beginning of the second film, but she was apparently impatient. She reached down and grabbed my erect cock and began to gently jerk it, licking her hand and lubricating me with spit. This was something she had never done before. I was very horny. Then she'd lubricate herself with the spit.

She said, "This is good."

She was preparing herself, as well. "Don't you want to wait for the second movie?" I clumsily asked.

I was shaking. The moment of truth was at hand. I asked her if she wanted to go into the back seat, and she said no. Perhaps it would feel too pre-meditated.

Pants around my ankles, I climbed on top of her. It was awkward in the front seat, but I got into her, and she let me fuck her. My cock went into her pussy for the first time.

My knees were on the floor rug, and she readjusted to get me in better.

There was no love there. And there was no fucking. She knew it, and was determined. She held me, and I was sweated like a pig over her, dripping sweat onto her face, as I pumped my cock into her virgin pussy, clumsily, trying to get her to feel something, trying to get myself to feel some transport of ecstacy.

Soon I announced that I was going to cum, as if she would stop me, or tell me what to do next. She didn't, didn't really even move. And I came inside her.

I looked at her and said a stupid asshole thing: "Now can we watch the movie?" We adjusted, and watched the movie in silence for a while, pants still down.

We left at intermission, friends. Perhaps having figured out what we came to figure out. After that we didn't go on anymore dates, even though I called, and tried to get her to come out to play.

About 4 months later, I saw her in a parking lot walking to her car and I stopped to say hi, but she waved me on. Smiling, but in a hurry. I wanted to get to know her better, get to know her again. Try to make it up to her. To show her I had learned. She waved me on.

I never saw her after that.

Madonna

Everyone, in the old days, had hair on their privates. It was the mark of puberty.

Hair under their arms.

In our manufactured world of today, our mediated electronic realm in which naked people, in which fucking is viewed through devices, in which we don't actually look at each other face to face...

In which the shitty and sweaty aspect of fucking and making love is not always or even ever part of our education with the opposite (or the same) sex...

And sexuality...

Then our new models, our new fantasies, our sexy demons that enter into our libidos, basically, the people by whom we jerk off to, masturbate while looking at...

Aren't entirely creatures, carnal, sexy, sweaty and human and real.

They're two-dimensional and on the internet. On the page of the magazine. They're shaved. They smell of ink and perfume rather than cum and sweat.

They are sterilized, and enhanced. Air-brushed and boob-lifted. Tucked and made happy. Made high. Made drunk.

The men's magazines of the '60s, when they entered into the common and mass marketplace (eventually to disappear again with the right-swing of Reagan and the internet) were the final cause of this. Pictures even as late as 1990 (of the pop star Madonna, for example) were willing to show a hairy and healthy bush.

Demi Moore, no sexual slouch in the day, had one healthy pussy in her more daring days of opening legs for the press and her fans.



The public pussies of today are less interesting, if better defined, because they are not the fecund center of fucking, or of birth.

They aren't the pit of original sin, the pissy hot cumhole of hair and skin.

These new thin and plucked rails of porn don't jiggle and fart when they're tongued. I really think we've lost something.

An Exhibitionist's Daydream

She gets horny looking at all the porn on the internet, and wonders how that world - that huge world - can ever be entered into.

The camera on the top of the computer looks at her and teases her. She knows it's pointed right at her. And it's an exhibitionist's dream.

She's taken pictures of herself for Facebook. Sent a couple to friends. To her sister.

She's looked on the web, and she knows how she'd do it. Some don't show their faces. Points right at her crotch. It's a way to expose yourself with no risk. To do whatever you want - no matter what you are doing.

And so one night she tries it. She sets up the camera and sits in front of it. She pulls her panties aside and shows herself to the camera.

Her legs open. She takes the picture and and she downloads it.

And she posts it. And it gives her a great thrill to see it. She's now on the internet. Her open pussy.

In fact she can't stop thinking about it. So about a week later, she does it again. She gets naked and spreads herself wider for the camera. Looks into and takes a more explicit picture.

She has a webcam, that can take video. Days later, she's back at it.

Looking at herself. She turns on her webcam and looks at herself naked. She lays on the bed. and begins to rub her pussy.

She looks right at her pussy the whole time, and it's both an incredible turn-on and strangely distancing. That's what her pussy looks like, from the other side. She starts the camera and captures her open legs as she rubs herself.

Spreads legs for the camera. Masturbates furiously, and cums.

It lasts just a minute.




She posts the video on YouPorn, but can not forget about it. No one can know it's out there, know it's her.

But she has second thoughts every so often. And when she goes to look for it again, with the idea of deleting it, she finds that it has already been copied. With different keywords.

Over 1000 people have looked at it. Seen her masturbating.

Who?

She thinks about deleting the original, but there are dozens now elesewhere. Perhaps hundreds of links to it, copies posted other places so other people everywhere look at her rub on her pussy that one lonely night.

Her personal experience - her webcam masturbation is now out there, and it's not like anyone can find it. "Find" her. But if you do find it, you would enjoy its anonymous pleasures.

Red Pussy Hair

I'm not going to tell you my name, but I will let you see me naked. I'll pose and let you see. I have red natural hair, and my pussy is covered with thin red pussy hair.

I'll open my legs, and let you see my vulva. My labia, and my clit. The fine red pussy hair covers my pussy, decorating the wonderous space between my legs. Where your cock wants to go in and pump against me.

I cover this wonderous pussy with my clothes, my panties and my skirt that hides so much, but can be lifted in a moment to show you the succulent soft wonder of my red pussy. My skin is fair, and I have a slight freckles. My nipples are light pale pink, not dark aureoles. My red hair signals to you that I'm natural, fair-skinned. That my pussy is covered with fine, soft red wisp of beaver hair.

You want it. You want your face in my cunt, my asshole. You want to lick the red pussy hair on my twat until it's wet with my cum juices.

Cum on my red pussy hair. Cum on me.

Youthful Abandon

In the early days, when I was having sex with another teenager that certainly didn't want to be pregnant as I didn't, I would pull out before I came.

Not sure if 100% of my sperm ended up on her stomach, or only 95%, but I grew to love the look of the thick milky slime on the soft skin of the girl below me. Co-mingled with her soft and thin pubic hair.

I would - foolishly - reenter her with my erection, which was getting hard again, as the wet lubrication of the thickening cum smashed into my own public hair, and foamed up against her pubic bone against mine.

The secondary spasm of orgasm would pull through my groin as I managed to get another deep shudder, not entirely connected with a spurt of semen, but rather related to the warm and wet muscular convulsions of the pussy, the vagina, and the cock spending their last attempts at feeble, instinctual fertile lunging.

Mother I Need You

When the kids are in bed, and the second glass of gin is drunk, the parents take their clothes off and begin fucking with each other.

Dad has a new camera that he obsesses over, and loves to take pictures of everything he sees and everywhere he goes. He even has a darkroom set up in the basement, so he can develop the 35mm film.

He convinces his wife to pose for him, and she spreads out, a little tipsy, knowing that only he will see the photos. She may even get a charge out of it knowing that he'll jack off to her some lonely night, when she's asleep, and he's up late.

He keeps the negatives in a shoebox, unmarked, next to the spare screws in the basement, and time passes. When they move out of the house, most of the stuff goes into storage, and it's forgotten until the kids, along with their friends, who brought a couple bottles of red wine and Chinese food, inadvertently discover them.

Mom's dead now, and the friends don't want to embarrass their friends. They drop the negatives off at a local camera shop, that specializes in old reprints.

There must be hundreds of negatives in the boxes. The assistant manager goes through them and categorizes them and sees what he has seen so many of in the past - amateur photos of someone else's wife.

He sells them to a collector, who makes copies off the negatives and sells them to friends he knows. The real aspect of the photos are the selling point - they aren't studio-posed or glamorized. Someone convinced their wife or girlfriend to spread their legs for the eye of their camera.

She climbed up on the table and fingered her pussy, then raised her leg for her husband. Like it, honey? Wider, baby. Wait, do I hear the kids upstairs?


I love seeing you on the table where we eat breakfast every morning. I'll remember this tomorrow when I'm eating my Cheerios.

He eats her out, right there, and she comes. Then he fucks her on the table and comes in her hairy pussy moments later.