What I Saw at the Nudist Beach Two Sundays in a Row

I’m writing this several weeks after it happened, partly because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell it and partly because I’ve been distracted by other things. In the end I decided to because I’d like to know how many of you would do something similar to what she did. Maybe none. Maybe more than I imagine.

It all started on one of those dead Sundays when you get bored at home and end up going to the beach just to look at women. I was tired of the Malvarrosa. Too many people, too much noise, impossible to approach a topless woman naturally without the rest of the beach looking at her too and making her shut down instantly. Social pressure kills any encounter. So I decided to look for something quieter and discovered there was a nudist cove on the outskirts of Valencia. I went over there with low expectations.

At first it was disappointing. The cove was full of lone men, walking around with their cocks out and eyeing each other. I felt a couple of extra looks while I walked around looking for a spot, and that put me off so much I was already thinking of leaving. So much male flesh and not a single interesting woman in sight.

Just when I was about to give up, I saw a woman from behind who looked French: chestnut hair between straight and wavy, a long back, lovely shoulders. She had taken off her top and, since I was itching to look at someone, I invented a strategic route. I’d walk to the shore, look at the sea as if nothing were going on, and on the way back I’d pass right in front of her to scan her chest at my leisure. Sundays are my wanking days and I needed material.

That’s what I did. But when I got to the shore I ran into another woman who, out of the corner of my eye, seemed not to be wearing anything on the bottom. I wasn’t sure, because she had stayed behind me and I hadn’t looked at her head-on. To be safe, I decided to stay a while longer, pretending to contemplate the sea while I thought about what to do. I had nothing to lose. I went back over my steps, settled my things nearby, and lay down on my stomach in the perfect position to keep watch over the fake Frenchwoman and her friend, who was a bit heavier and had twice the boobs.

When I turned my head to the right I confirmed it: there was a completely naked woman a few meters away. Tall, with straight, thick dark-brown hair, medium breasts that didn’t sag but were clearly there and bounced when she laughed. She was speaking a language I couldn’t identify, something from Eastern Europe. Her legs were together, so for the moment I could only see her chest and her perfectly shaved pussy, not a single hair in sight.

The surprise was finding out who she was with. She was doing nudism with her mother and her brother at her side, all three of them completely relaxed. What a family, I thought. The mother also had her tits out, but kept a swimsuit bottom on, which set her apart from the daughter. The brother was an extra of no importance in all this.

Lying almost at her level, I felt my dick hardening as I looked at the two topless women while, out of the corner of my eye, I watched the naked one, waiting for the moment she’d let me see more. I was burning with curiosity to know whether she was fully shaved or if she’d left some shape. It didn’t take long. At one point she stood up for no apparent reason, turned so she was facing me, and let me see the whole smooth slit, no hint of hair, though not yet spread open. She wrapped a towel around her waist and went off for a walk along the shore. Good start.

When she came back she sat down facing her family, right opposite me, with her legs crossed. And every time she uncrossed them for a moment to get comfortable, she let me see everything, top to bottom. She was pink and closed, freshly shaved, I can tell that right away at the beach. Happy with the show, I got up and left, and I noticed that she and her family were packing up shortly after as well.

***

The following Sunday I went back to the same cove. This time I sat down in the nudist area from the start, but there were so few women that I nearly fled and went back to the same corner as the week before. And there she was again, with her mother and her brother, as if they hadn’t moved in seven days. How was I supposed to plant myself under her for a second week running? You have to have very little shame to let a woman know you’re going to look at her sex and that she can do nothing to stop you. Well, that’s me, and that’s what I did.

That day the cove was full of girls with big breasts, some of them spectacular, hard not to look at. To my left I had two who didn’t know each other and whose measurements I kept turning my head to estimate every so often. I went for a swim, which I hadn’t done the week before, thinking it was impossible to talk to the naked woman: she was stark naked and surrounded by her family. To make matters worse, her brother was chatting with a man whose cock was pointing at the ants in the sand, both of them speaking the same language.

What emboldened me were her smiles. The shaved one gave me a couple of not-too-shy smiles when I came out of the water. She must have noticed the busty woman next to me distracting me. That one isn’t going to steal this man from me, and not in front of my mother, she must have thought. That left me more confused than enlightened. It didn’t solve how to talk to her, it just put more pressure on me. I decided to take it slow.

I stayed lying there for a long while, pretending to sleep with my face buried in the towel but with one eye always open toward her. Every movement of hers reached me in slow motion: when she pushed her hair back, when she stretched out in the sun, when she exchanged a couple of phrases with her mother in that closed, harsh language I found impossible to follow. I didn’t understand a single word, but I understood perfectly what was happening between us without needing to translate it. There was a silent conversation made of glances that met for an instant and then broke away, of smiles that lasted just long enough not to commit to anything.

Before going back into the sea I asked if she could watch my things. She agreed with a smile. When I came back I thanked her and we each lay down on our own side, both of us face down, her legs a little apart and her slit pointing straight at me. Did she leave it like that on purpose? From where I was I could see her whole sex, as shaved as the previous Sunday, and the line of her ass crack.

When she sat up again I asked her for the favor once more and went off for a swim. This time, when I came back, we talked. I asked where she was from and whether that was her family. Nadia, that was her name. She was on vacation in Valencia with her mother and brother, staying a hundred meters from the cove, and the next day, Monday, they were going back to Latvia. While she answered, I looked at her sex on purpose so she’d know I was enjoying every inch of her. She told me she had gone to see a Valencia match with her brother and that she wasn’t going into the water that day because she was afraid of jellyfish.

I loved it when she spread her legs for me. From a meter away there was nowhere else to look, so I scanned every detail to make sure it wouldn’t fade from memory too easily. I had already stopped talking to her when her mother arrived dripping from the sea. She sat down next to Nadia and, in one quick motion, took off her yellow thong. Mother and daughter shaved, both facing me. I tried to act casual, but since I have no shame I couldn’t pull it off, and I ended up eating the mother’s pussy up with my eyes.

Like in an absurd dream, I moved my gaze from the mother’s sex to the daughter’s, whose skin was a little firmer. The mother stayed like that for a good while before putting something dry on. Nadia must have been used to her family’s extravagances; I wasn’t. The show ended when the mother got dressed, and I don’t know whether I was luckier for having seen two women like that or dumber for not daring to do anything more.

When I realized I wasn’t going to get any more than what I’d already gotten, I decided to leave. I gave each of the busty girls on the cove one last visual once-over so I’d remember them properly later, and started to pack up. Standing up, I saw Nadia’s whole silhouette, long as a mermaid stranded in the sun. I walked past her and wished her a good trip.

—Chau —she replied, with a smile and a much softer voice than I’d expected.

I held her gaze a second longer than necessary; I wanted her to know I’d seen everything and enjoyed it without hiding it. Something lit up in her eyes, anger or desire, I couldn’t say which. As I walked away, I saw her dressing in a hurry, gathering her things and bolting out of the cove without her family. I tried to follow her but lost her in the crowd. Where would she be going in such a rush and alone? Those are questions a woman might answer more easily than I could. I was left with only two Sundays, an unknown woman from Eastern Europe, and the certainty that she knew exactly what she was doing every time she spread her legs.