What Happened at the Nude Cove with My Friends
It wasn’t just about showing Marina the nude cove. Lian and I were dying to go back, and after the long afternoon we’d spent the day before at her place, the three of us needed sea air, a massage and, above all, to shake off the remnants of everything we’d eaten and drunk at that Chinese dinner. It was excess of everything, but especially alcohol. My head felt heavy and my body slow, and the mere idea of throwing myself into the salt water seemed like the only possible cure.
Marina was so excited she probably hadn’t even slept. Since seven in the morning she’d been calling me, hurrying me so we wouldn’t be late to Lian’s place. It cost me a world of effort to get up, but her enthusiasm was contagious. We ate a light breakfast before leaving, just coffee and fruit, because we knew they were going to fill us up with juices and food at the cove. We got there early, but when Lian saw my face and my arms marked with bruises, she let out a muffled cry and made up my skin as best she could wherever it was least noticeable. Then she rummaged through her closet and lent me a very pretty, semi-sheer blouse to hide the marks.
—Don’t worry, friend. I can say that every time I get sun on me, these marks show up —I told them.
They laughed, but until that moment I hadn’t really grasped how intense the bruises the commander had left on me were, with his bites and hickeys. And then I thought: he’ll probably show up somewhere with the marks I left on his cock and balls. Let’s see how he explains those.
The yacht that took us across to the cove was the same one as last time, a sleek white vessel that smelled of salt and varnished wood. The owner, who ran the business with impeccable style, was a charming man, openly gay, sweet with everyone, with a smile that put you at ease. He gave us the instructions calmly, like someone welcoming old acquaintances. At the dock there were lockers; he recommended we leave our valuables there and pay in advance for whatever services we wanted, according to a list written on a board beside the ramp. Marina, without a second thought, said all the ones available, so I happily paid for the three of us, even though we had no idea what they involved or in what order we’d get them.
—Let’s let ourselves be surprised —Lian suggested.
We boarded the yacht, which had very few passengers, and settled in on the deck. We covered Lian with towels. I already knew she avoided the sun as much as possible so her skin wouldn’t darken. Lian has oriental features, but none of the color people imagine: her skin is very fair, almost white, with a very soft creamy coffee tone, because she never exposes herself directly to the sun.
The three of us took off our bikini tops and let the sun stroke us for the half hour the crossing took. Lian uncovered herself for a moment too, but Marina covered her right away.
—Don’t expose yourself, you’ll regret it. Your skin isn’t used to it —she told her.
We arrived at a tiny little beach, a closed bay, a cove. We got off and were immediately offered juices and fruit smoothies. They let us cool off with a dip in the salt water, we dried off, and they invited us to try breakfast, though we weren’t hungry and barely touched it. Then a local couple came over and took us to the palapa where they gave the massages.
The three of us lay down, they uncovered our bodies, and started working on our backs. But when he saw my bruises, he focused only on me, without saying a word. He massaged me for a long time, rubbing the marks as if trying to erase them. When he touched the two small ones between my legs, it hurt quite a bit. I noticed the masseurs talking to each other; she went to fetch some remedy and came back with a green ointment, grass-colored. They smeared it over the two bruises, and also over a third, even smaller one, right next to the entrance to my cunt. The woman’s fingers went a little way between my lips so she could reach the bruise properly, and I felt the edge of my entrance opening against the rubbing. It smelled like a mix of menthol and herbs.
Miracle cure. The pain disappeared and in its place there was a pleasant tingling that, little by little, became tremendous. It started as a warm fizz and ended in a throbbing that rose up inside me, insistent, impossible to ignore. I pressed my thighs against the table and breathed deeply, feeling my clit swell and pulse against the cloth. I realized too late: I had gotten myself so aroused I didn’t know how to handle it, I was leaking, I felt the wetness running down the crease of my thigh, and the masseurs kept on with their work as if nothing were happening, oblivious to the fire they’d set off in my cunt.
—Did you get into a fight with a gorilla or something? —the masseuse lady asked me.
—No, this time it was a Chinese dragon that roughed her up —Marina answered, laughing her ass off.
I endured it as best I could. Then they invited us into the temazcal. It’s a hut shaped like a pizza oven, only big; the three of us barely fit lying down on a stone slab that was already blazing hot. They sprinkled us with a fragrant substance, very pleasant. The heat rose, they lightly whipped us with bundles of branches, and left us there, sweating, breathing in the scents.
—Very nice, right, girls? —said Lian. I think that was the last thing she managed to say.
The three of us fell into a kind of lethargy. We lost the will to move, to sit up. I don’t know whether it was a long while or an instant, but we came out of there completely disoriented. A girl took us by the hand to what served as the restaurant. Little by little we got our bodies back, and with them a strange joy, a euphoria. We talked nonstop, remembering the dinner at Lian’s place and everything that had come after.
The food was included and we enjoyed it calmly, in the shade of a palapa, our feet on the warm sand and the sea just a few steps away. But there was still time for one last swim, which sounded delicious. We left our bikinis and towels thrown on the chairs, without the slightest shame, and walked toward the water feeling the sun on our backs. Then Marina stopped dead and spotted several people walking along the shore, completely naked, talking among themselves as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
—Wait. Let me enjoy for a moment what I’ve dreamed of so many times —she said.
The three of us stopped to critique what we were seeing, giggling like schoolgirls.
—Look at that one, his cock’s asleep, but it’s promising. With how floppy he’s got it, imagine it hard.
—Look at that other one, all stiff and with such a tiny little dick, poor thing. It barely fills his hand, let alone him.
—That girl really is pretty, look at those tits, and how her nipples stand up in the cold water.
And so we went down the list until we got into the sea. We hopped around like kids, hugged each other, rubbed our tits against one another, inspected each other without shame. Lian started the mischief: first she stroked my cunt over my bikini, rubbing me with her open palm until she felt me open up, and then suddenly she hooked her fingers and pushed them inside me, pinching me from within, searching for that spongy spot right behind the bone. It was a new, intense sensation; I pulled her toward me, wanting more, pushing my hips against her hand so she’d drive her fingers in to the knuckles. She looked at me with that crooked little smile, knowing perfectly well what she was doing to me.
—That’s it, slut, fuck my hand —she whispered in my ear, and bit my earlobe.
Marina noticed and put her fingers inside Lian, but without knowing the hook trick. Lian turned toward her and showed her how to do it, guiding her wrist, bending her fingers, holding her with her fingers in a slow, deep massage, until Marina got the rhythm and started pumping Lian’s cunt under the water.
—Oh, it feels so good! It’s like there’s a knot inside me, I don’t know what it is —Marina shouted.
—That’s because she’s touching you inside, dummy, that’s where a real woman cums —Lian told her, panting, eyes half-closed.
Marina came right then and there, pressing her thighs against Lian’s hand, mouth open and a long moan escaping her that she couldn’t hide. The salt water seemed to make everything stronger. I couldn’t calm down, I was still right on the edge, my cunt throbbing from the ointment and from Lian’s fingers inside me, so I hugged her from behind and let my hands do their thing: my left hand pinching one hard nipple and my right hand searching for the center. Two, three fingers going in and out of her Chinese cunt, that tight, narrow cunt that sucked my fingers inward. She writhed beautifully, her ass pressed against my belly. Marina moved closer and, without me planning it, caressed Lian from behind, spread her butt cheeks and ran a finger over her asshole, barely brushing it.
—Put it in, dare to —Lian panted—. Put it in slowly, wet your finger first.
Marina obeyed, sucked two fingers and began feeding her middle finger into Lian’s little asshole, while I kept fucking her from the front with my hand. Lian was choking, kissing both of us on the mouth, tongue going in and out, and I kept going and going, holding her in a long orgasm that shook her whole body. She slapped at the water, moved her hips, spearing herself on our hands, and puffed and gasped as if she couldn’t get enough air.
—I’m cumming, I’m cumming, don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me both of you —she shrieked in a thin voice.
And she came, hard, in spasms that clenched down around the fingers I had buried deep inside. I felt her cunt throbbing on the inside, contracting all around me, and I pulled out fingers soaked in thick fluid that not even the seawater could wash away completely.
We hadn’t realized the water was only up to our chests. The three of us’ tits were floating in plain view of everyone. By the shore, a group had already gathered, about six people, to watch our show. It didn’t bother us; we were happy and they were aroused, with cocks starting to rise and the girls rubbing their thighs discreetly. I counted three boys and about four girls, all naked.
—That was so good, right, girls? —Lian said. Marina and I just laughed, still lit up, our nipples hard and our cunts throbbing.
Two European-looking girls came over. We thought they just wanted to chat, but they didn’t speak Spanish or English. The shorter one dared to break the ice. Using gestures, we asked where they were from and what their names were. She said a name I understood as “Kasia,” and pointing to herself and the imaginary map she drew with her hands, we guessed they came from very far away, from the east. The two of them were wearing only their bikini bottoms, no tops, but they wanted to tell us something: they pointed out that Marina wasn’t wearing anything on the bottom, with her shaved cunt on display.
—Not enough confidence! Take off those granny panties and get comfortable —Marina said.
Of course they didn’t understand the words, but when she made the gesture of pulling them down, they did it themselves, now completely naked. Beautiful bodies, a little heavy with pubic hair, thick and dark over fleshy cunts, large soft tits, somewhat droopy, with broad pink nipples. They laughed and we laughed with them, all of us at ease.
They took us to their little corner: a shade made with a towel tied to four oars stuck in the sand, and a pile of backpacks with their things for spending the night there. They gestured for us to come in and sit on some woven mats, and passed us a bottle so each of us could take a drink. The atmosphere relaxed.
The taller one pointed at her friend, laughing.
—Kasia —she said, and then introduced herself with another name, Dorota. We understood they were Polish and each of them was identified by her name. We did the same; ours didn’t seem strange to them.
Kasia must have explained to the others that at that place you went without panties, from the little she’d understood of Marina. Discreetly, several of the other girls, five in total, also stripped completely, ending up stark naked on the sand. The bottle kept making the rounds amid laughter.
By gestures, we gathered they were asking if the three of us were close friends.
—Yes, we love each other —Marina told them, and grabbing our waists she hugged Lian and me and kissed us hard, with tongue, first one and then the other, in front of everyone.
—Homo? —one asked.
—Yes, we’re bi, bisexual. We like cocks and cunts too —Marina emphasized so it would be clear, and stuck two fingers in her mouth, sucking them shamelessly. They understood perfectly.
We waited for the reaction: either they’d kick us out or make a rejecting gesture. We turned to look at them. And then one little girl who had been silent stood up, hugged Marina and kissed one of her tits, mouth open, sucking the nipple until she pulled it all the way into her mouth. Marina threw her head back and sighed. We didn’t know how to react, but they showed us the way. Two of them went over to Lian, squeezed her tits, kissed them, laid her back on the mat and caressed her belly, sliding down to her cunt. One opened her lips with two fingers and bent down to lick her clit, long and slow, with her tongue flat. The other sucked her nipples, one and then the other. Lian held them and guided them where she wanted, grabbed the one eating her cunt by the hair and pressed her face against her sex.
—Like that, like that, eat me, don’t stop, get your tongue deep inside me —Lian moaned in Spanish, and though they didn’t understand her, the language of a wet cunt needs no translation.
Meanwhile, I hugged Kasia and the other one, the taller one, held me by the waist. She kissed my neck and went lower, lower, until she knelt in the sand and kissed my shaved pubis. Kasia pinched my nipples with rough fingers, and the taller one spread my legs with her hands, parted my cunt lips with her thumbs and pressed her mouth against my clit. Her tongue was long and thick, she knew how to use it, she drove it between my folds and then came up to suck my clit with tightly pressed lips, drawing on it. They stroked me, squeezed my bruises, found them funny. Kasia had big tits and I grabbed them as much as I could, squeezed them, sucked her dark, large nipples until they went hard as stones. She shoved three fingers into my cunt at once, and since I was so sensitive right there because of the ointment, soaked and spread open, I felt the stretch like a lash of pleasure. The three fingers went in and out with a wet sound, she pulled them out shining, pushed them back in, searching for that spot Lian had taught me to feel. The other one never let go of my clit, sucking it, licking it, barely nibbling with her teeth.
I exploded in a tremendous orgasm in very little time. I had never felt it so strong; my knees buckled, I fell sitting onto the mat and they fell with me, not letting go. My thighs trembled, small spurts of hot fluid escaped me, wetting their faces and hands. I gave myself over to a collapse I couldn’t control. They didn’t stop, kept rubbing my clit with two crossed fingers, and I let go completely, lost in the sensation, mouth open, shouting something I didn’t even understand myself. Kasia put her fingers, soaked with my juices, into my mouth and I sucked them, tasting myself, while the other kept eating my cunt like it had no bottom. I came a second time, on top of the first, without a break, my hips lifting off the mat, pushing me against her tongue.
When they finally let me go and I could sit up, Marina and Lian were asking me:
—What happened to you, friend?
—It’s the ointment they put on me down there, on my cunt. It drove me crazy. And the worst part is I’m still desperate to feel more, my clit’s throbbing, I’m still leaking. I don’t know how to calm this down —I told them, still with my legs spread and trembling.
—Oh, how I’d love to get to that state someday. I thought it was all bullshit —Marina said.
—And has the bite bruise healed? —Lian asked, intrigued, and checked me, parting my cunt lips with delicate fingers. She found it the same, but the area was red, swollen, burning, so much that I couldn’t even touch it. Every brush was like a delicious electric shock, but it burned. I poured a little of the drink, which I think was vodka, into my hand and rubbed it over the redness, over the open lips and the throbbing clit. It stung at first and then soothed me. At last I stopped touching myself.
After a while we got back into the sea and left everything behind. We took the little yacht back. It was the day’s last trip, and the three of us rode in silence, with that tired smile of someone who already knows they’ll be coming back.
