Bastille Day Ch. 10

"Um-hmm," they agreed and then moved off me. When they were lying beside me again, both their hands found my wilting cock and now very relaxed sack. We all hummed contentedly. After a few moments, Anna murmured:

"I knew it would be better with you two, better than I hoped; thank you."

"You were really thinking about it with him?" Marge asked, saving me from saying something similar.

"Not really, just curious, since he suggested it - one of the Russians."

"Hmmm? 'Just curious,' of course," I replied: "... not that I can imagine they do it any differently."

"Of course not, and I didn't want to find out. 'Just curious.'"

Marge nodded and remarked:

"Of course, and sort of flattering that he wanted to. Hm-hmm! But he didn't have hair on his chest."

"No, but I think he shaved it - a little prickly."

I chuckled and said:

"No wonder your nipples popped out, but he was the wrong guy for you, if he thought that was attractive."

"Hadn't thought of that, so you're right."

We all chuckled and then decided to go to the bathroom again. Both of them used the toilet, and I, the washbasin, washing my face, and we returned to bed and got comfortable under the covers in the now cooler room, now with me behind Marge and Anna. Our hands reached down and rubbed the others' hip, and then Marge's found Anna's breast, and mine, hers. We said good night and were soon asleep.

In the morning, we didn't do anything, my erection just leading us to the bathroom. They chuckled as they watched my stream hit the far side of the shower. We showered individually and Anna shaved again. We laid out what we wanted to wear for the bus trip, remembering to put our ID and some money in a bag.

At breakfast, there were the expected conversations about the flash mob, anticipatory excitement. Since we didn't have to leave until the afternoon, most of us watched the Bastille Day parade on the big screen that was usually used for showing DVD films. Those from our group who hadn't been along to Cap d'Agde were surprised to hear remarks about what had happened after the parade was over and even asked for more details, snickering when they heard.

I suppose there are some naturists who never consider that going naked could have erotic undertones, maybe more who do but don't admit it. The instructions for teenagers about good behavior suggested that the resort management knew that many did. Since everyone in our group had met via Literotica, they all accepted that that having sex could be involved, some just surprised that it had been so open that day.

Before lunch, Marge sent an email to her brother, telling him to watch the Tour de France on live stream. Anna sent one to her father, but rather expecting that he wouldn't find it. I didn't have anyone to whom I could reveal that I might appear nude.

We survived! Sans bid us farewell, hoping we would return safely, and then we crowded in the bus and a few cars. As someone suggested during the drive, the police couldn't lock us all up. When we got to the 10 km mark we piled out, still dressed, but ready to "drop drawers," as a Brit said. Someone followed the race on an iphone and warned us when the leaders were nearing.

When we saw the leaders approaching, we "dropped drawers," the women just untying their sarongs. Ron and Willy unfurled their banners. Sure surprised the cyclists! Also the leading motorcycle police, who had to drive on. And the first TV cameraman on a motorbike also got an eyeful - and a lens-full - the second one too.

We cheered on the leaders, of course, didn't just stand there naked. While we waited for the main group, the "peleton," we congratulated ourselves. When it approached, someone suggested that we spread out, so that the police wouldn't have us all together. We cheered from both sides of the road. More TV-camera men, a couple who really panned their cameras passed us and aimed at the banner near the 10 km mark. The cyclists at the back of the peleton also enjoyed their view of us. One almost caused an accident.

But then the police did stop and talk to us, but just told us to put our clothes back on again. They didn't look like they really minded what they had seen. After we had, and they left, a Frenchman who had talked to them, said that they had been told by radio that we were there and had admitted that it was the best thing that had happened so far during Tour.

We waited for the stragglers, cheering them on. The banners were still out, and some of the women flashed their breasts for them to see. I hope it gave them a shot of adrenalin to continue the last 10 km up to the finish line.

When the last support cars had passed, we got back in our vehicles and returned to the resort, where we were enthusiastically greeted, also by a grinning Sans-culotte, who told that everyone had tried to watch the TV reportage on the big screen. Those who had watched on live stream got to see more of us, also more below the waist.

When we all said that we were thirsty, the resort treated the group to a beer, and we a had a couple more, joined by Sans and others' acquaintances who hadn't been along. Someone came and said that we were already on YouTube: "the full monty." Some of us laughed, others were a little apprehensive that family or friends who knew about their trip would see them.

When the group broke up, Sans said that he hoped he would see us at dinner. We agreed, of course, and Marge replied with a slight smirk:

"And after dinner, if you want."

Anna and I nodded with smiles, and he also did. We hurried back to our room, to the bathroom. When we had all gone, Marge found an SMS from her brother, telling that he had seen us and asking who the girl was that I was standing with - Anna of course. Did he see her smile at me when I patted her bottom?

He had; Marge called him and heard that he had seen "all of us" and that he hoped she was getting her fair share with such young and attractive competition. We only learned what he had said after she clicked off, having replied with a grin:

"I am. Tell you when I get home."

"Not 'competition,' Anna remarked with a sweet smile at both of us. We returned her smile, nodding emphatically.

Sans joined us at dinner, congratulating us again at the success of the project. We chuckled about the possibility that others might try the same thing during the following days of the Tour or maybe next year on Bastille Day. He told us that he had new neighbors, explaining:

"too loud Russians on both sides, already partying together, probably wondering what an older man like me is doing here alone."

"You're not here alone," Anna remarked softly with another one of her sweet smiles - and one from Marge.

"I didn't really think so, now," he replied and raised his glass.

We all drank with him, returning his smile and nod. I didn't see that Anna's nipples had popped out, just noticed that she rubbed her forearm over them. She was getting her fair share, we all were, Sans too.

As we left the restaurant, he said:

"Finally, I can invite you to my place, maybe do something about my reputation as a loner with my new neighbors. ... Oh, but you need to bring glasses, if you don't want to drink out of the bottle."

We went to our place to fetch them and then went to his, where two of us had to sit on his double bed. He gestured for Marge and Anna to sit on the armchair and desk chair, leaving me to sit on the bed, while he opened a wine bottle. Before he sat down, he raised his glass and offered a toast:

"Today may have been the highpoint of the trip for some of your compatriots, but it certainly hasn't been for me, wouldn't have been, even if I could have been along. Thank you for inviting me to join you and share in your ... 'hospitality.' It is my pleasure now to be able to return it a little."

He raised his glass, and we raised our, all nodding, and drank, smiling at each other. As he sat down next to me, it occurred to me that he could have been making the same toast in much more formal surroundings, wearing a dark suit or tuxedo - but he wasn't.

I felt more than a little incongruous when I found myself standing up to respond, not just because I was naked, but also because I didn't have his obvious practice at making toasts, but the situation seemed to call for an appropriate, equally formal response. I looked down at him for a moment. He smiled slightly, as though I was doing the right thing. Then I looked at Marge, who nodded encouragingly, then at Anna, who looked slightly surprised. I opened my mouth, still not sure what I was going to say:

"Thank you. You are right. Although today was the original goal of our trip, and was a highpoint in that sense, having you join us has, I believe, ... no, having you join us has made the trip much more enjoyable, and - I believe I can also speak for Marge and Anna - and say that we are looking forward to the next few days together."

As I raised my glass, I felt that I was blushing slightly, maybe also because I had almost said something about his fitting in so well. Marge and Anna nodded with smiles, raising their glasses, and he raised his, and we drank again. When I sat down, Marge gave me another smile and nod.

After a moment's silence, Marge smiled at him and said:

"Yes, it has been ... is being a real pleasure having you join us."

Anna nodded and added:

"You've fit in so well."

I snorted immediately. Maybe only when the others saw her blush did they recognize the double entendre. They also snorted with repressed smirks. Her nipples had popped out, and her blush deepened. With a flustered expression on her face, she murmured:

"Oooh! I didn't mean to say that, ... well, not like that."

Then she snorted with a smirk, looking more relaxed, and added:

"Well, like that, too," and grinned wryly.

We all chuckled, nodding with smiles. Sans raised his glass to her with a smile and replied:

"I thought so too," and then turned to include Marge. She nodded with with grin and agreed:

"I thought so too, ... almost said it, myself."

"Like I almost did," I rejoined, raising my glass.

We all nearly laughed and then drank - much more than just sips. Were the others also thinking that Anna's remark suggested that we empty our glasses? We didn't need a second glass to empty the bottle before we did what we all knew that we were eventually going to do.

No one said anything as we smiled at each other again. In the silence, the loud talk from one or both the neighboring rooms could be heard. We smiled at each, nodding with chuckles at the confirmation of Sans' having said that his new neighbors were loud. Marge smirked slightly and remarked:

"Won't have to worry about disturbing them," and took a sip of wine.

We nodded and took a sip of ours. The next one would be the last one. There was only one way we could disturb them, but I couldn't remember that Anna or Marge had ever been loud enough to. She winked at me, then glancing down at her glass. Sans must have noticed, he looked down at his, swilling the bit of wine in it, and remarked softly:

"I don't think I need a second glass," and then emptied his.

The rest of us emptied ours, just smirking very slightly as we put them on the desk. When Anna looked back at us, her nipples were again aroused. Had she glanced down at his cock - or mine? Someone had to say something. I saw the tip of Anna's tongue slid across her lips. She couldn't be licking the last drop of wine from them; she had tilted her glass up and poured it into her mouth without its touching them. Someone still had to say something. I felt my cock stir. Still no one said anything. Had Anna glanced over at me - or down at my cock? She did glance at his, and the tip of her tongue moved again. I murmured:

"I think Anna wants to show you how well you fit in."

She blushed, but nodded, as her eyes darted to mine and then found his. Her tongue licked again, more than just the tip of it. Her eyes dropped down. If my cock stirred again, his must surely have. He hummed very softly and remarked:

"Even if you are my guests here, I want to fit in any way I can."

I thought that I noticed that his thighs opened, but I was watching Anna, who smiled at him with a nod, sliding off her chair and moving on her knees the couple of feet between them. Then I had to watch Marge, who was crawling towards me, grinning up at me as I spread my thighs.

Her hand came up under my balls, as she murmured: "You fit in just as well."

The head of my swelling cock disappeared between her lips.

"Mmmm!" I hummed, although it didn't yet feel very arousing, and glanced over to see that his cock was in Anna's mouth. But then it was feeling very arousing for mine, and I thought it inappropriate to watch what Anna was doing. No need for vicarious arousal, watching and feeling what Marge was doing was as arousing as a man and his cock could want, and I knew that what Anna was doing was being just as good for him.

When she let his cock spring up and leaned down to lick and suck one of his balls, he moaned softly and muttered:

"Hadn't thought about fitting in like that."

I saw her head nod and assumed that she must have hummed; he moaned again and murmured:

"Feels good."

"Of course," I murmured, more as a thought than to reply.

Then the glistening head of my cock sprang up, and one of my balls was in Marge's mouth. I moaned and felt Marge's response buzz my ball. What a team! They were going to get it back, even if our tongues didn't fit in their pussies as well as our cocks did, but then they were going to feel them in their warm, wet, aroused pussies.

The heads of our cocks disappeared again, and I forgot about how mine would feel in a pussy; couldn't feel better than it did in Marge's mouth. I was looking forward to her sucking my other ball, but she only stopped sucking my cock long enough to stretch and loosen my sack. Anna, however, did suck his other ball - lucky guy! - why I came before he did.

With groans that might have disturbed the neighbors, I filled Marge's mouth. At least, it felt like it, and she moaned with apparent delight at each spurt. She couldn't know the pleasure she had given me, but still had enjoyed it, and had herself been aroused. When she raised her head, licking the last drop, I saw that her hand was down between her thighs. She grinned, licking her lips and then showing me her wet fingers. She reached up and let me lick them, then rose up with a grin and kissed me.

She hadn't swallowed it all. As she urged me to lie back, she murmured:

"Now you get to taste more of me," and climbed up over me.

Oh, I wanted to! I grasped her ass, as she crept up passed my shoulders, and drew her pussy down to my mouth. Wet pussy, my tongue lapping up between her slick inner lips, the tip of it feeling her wetter hole and then finding her clitoris. I loved to lick her pussy - any pussy! - loved to try to return the pleasure she had given me.

While I was, the movement on the bed suggested that Anna was also clambering up over Sans. I had forgotten about them, but knew that his orgasm must have been just as good; I knew how good Anna sucked cock, how much she loved to.

I forgot about them again, now holding Marge's breasts and squeezing and rolling her stiff nipples between my fingers, while my tongue delighted at arousing her and tasting her. Her pulsing hum encouraged me and confirmed that I was.

Oh, it was going to be good! I knew how good she could come, that she would flood my face with her sweet pussy juice. And I knew that my cock was again stiff, that when she had come, that it would be in her tight, slippery pussy, that she would want it to be, that it would want something to contract on, instead of the empty contractions that the tip of my tongue felt, when it returned to her hole to catch fresh moisture.

Her hips began to twitch. It did that again and then was back arousing her clitoris. She began to whimper, her hips twitching quickly. Soon!

Now!! Better than I hoped! More pussy juice than I could lap up! Running down both sides of my jaw and onto my neck, as her body convulsed, and she gasped and groaned, dropping down on her hands over me. It was so gratifying to know that it had been so good for her.

My tongue stilled, and I relaxed with a moaning sigh. We both sighed a couple of times, exchanging moans. Then she chuckled in her throat and began to move back over me. When my cock touched her, she chuckled again and moved to her ass to try to catch it in her pussy. I reached down and helped. We both chuckled as we found her hole and then hummed as it slipped into her pussy. It squeezed it, and she dropped down on me and licked around my mouth and murmured:

"I taste good."

"Better, like I tasted you."

"Um-hmm!"

She kissed me, our tongues caressing. My fingers caressed down into her crevice. When they found her asshole, she chuckled again, thrusting her tongue passed mine into my mouth. My finger didn't just caress her twitching asshole.

"Uhn!" she complained.

Too dry. My finger slid down and in with my cock and returned. This time, she growled softly as it probed. Her asshole tightened and then relaxed, and she moaned, then chuckling, as my finger tip moved in it. It held it, and her pussy tightened around my cock, then a couple of more times, as she chuckled, evidently having done it on purpose. I also chuckled and murmured:

"You did that."

"Um-hmm," and she agreed cheerfully and did it again, replying:

"Feels fucking good, both places," and she did it again, then murmuring:

"Fuck me."

I did - "both places" - and she fucked me. Other movements on the bed reminded me again that we weren't alone. I glanced over and saw that Anna was sitting on Sans' cock. Good, but forget them; my hips were rocking, meeting - slapping - Marge's, as my cock pumped in and out her pussy. Her pussy was contracting, and then I felt her spurt as she groaned and her body quivered.

For a moment or two, she she relaxed, just lying on me, but her pussy was still contracting, making my cock twitch.

"More," she murmured and began to rock her hips again.

We started to fuck again with now wet slapping sounds, and soon even wetter ones, as she spurted and groaned again, and I came, my surging cock spurting in her clutching pussy, as I hugged her spasming body to mine.

"All fucked out," was all I could think, as she she lay still and heavy on me. Our stomachs rose and fell against each other as we recovered with moaning sighs. I felt her pussy contract again, but my cock didn't twitch now.

Again, the movement of the bed reminded us that we weren't alone. Anna had dropped down, and they were now fucking. I wondered: had she - he too? - had an orgasm with her fingering her clitoris and now was wanting another one?

They got them. That was so evident that it must have made Marge's pussy contract in empathy, squeezing my softening cock. Then they were also still. A minute or two later, I heard a moist kiss and Anna hum cheerfully, then murmuring:

"You really have fit in so well."

We all chuckled. Marge murmured:

"You have, too."

She chuckled again and squeezed my soft cock. I snorted and replied:

"But not if you do that again."

She did, and my cock slipped out. We both snorted, as she nodded. She snorted again and turned her head to them and remarked to Sans:

"You do too. Hm-hmm, not that I needed Anna to tell me."

"Nope, but it was good that she did," I rejoined, adding: "or we might still be just drinking wine and talking."

He snorted and replied:

"I doubt it. I was already thinking of something to say, maybe apologize for not having anything to eat, hoping someone would suggest that they wanted something else to eat."

"Oh, I would have," Anna replied with grin.