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White Sand!

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My lovely wife observed.


My beautiful wife and I made several visits over the past few years to a delightful nudist beach on the south coast of England, when we lived within easy driving distance. The weather wasn't always ideal for complete nudity and on occasions she would be happy just to take off her pants and skirt and relax, with a gentle breeze wafting her silky pubic hair - a lovely natural blonde and perfectly colour coordinated. At other times we were able to enjoy the sunshine, in between clouds or showers, by stripping completely.
At first she was surprised by the amount of interest she generated across the whole age range of male observers, especially those who went out of their way to gain the best views of her sunbathing. She preferred us to be in the privacy of the sand dunes away from the more crowded family beach, where we could be less inhibited, but was unaware that a 'bush telegraph' operated there, informing interested parties whenever an attractive woman was in sight, so they could gain a good vantage point.
Although initially embarrassed to be the centre of such attention, she came to accept that, if she were naked, the male eye would be keen to study her shapely 38D-28-36 figure and delightful face - and this appreciation would be reflected in the stiffness of erect penises (including very impressive ones) and a desire to masturbate them in her general direction. And once she had been reassured that placing herself in this hard-cock zone didn't mean she was in any danger of being raped if she opened her legs, she was able to become more generous in her exposure.
She said she wasn't keen to put on free lovemaking shows for the general public, so we would have to be restrained when being observed together, quite apart from any practical problems involved, such as risking sand in her crack and needing to wash herself afterwards. The trouble was that it was difficult not to be observed, both by reconnoitering binoculars and by patrolling admirers, who even accompanied her when she went off for a pee in the bushes.
So we struck a happy compromise and restricted our activities to massage, which she liked receiving, I enjoyed giving and the audience loved watching. Accepting that we would inevitably be watched, she insisted that any observer could see but not touch, and keep his prick out of spurting range of her cunt if he wanted to masturbate. Penetration, even with a condom, was not an option.
Over the course of our memorable visits I was able to perfect a technique which satisfied my wife's need to relax, but didn't leave the audience disappointed. We always took a cushion and double bedsheet for her to lie on and to keep the sand off - essential if using massage oil! When she was ready, she stripped down to her knickers and lay on her back. If she was already nude, she placed a silk scarf strategically over her bush, which was out of bounds until she'd had a proper hand, arm, foot and leg massage. I paid particular attention to her stunning curvaceous breasts and her succulent nipples, which stood hard as I kissed and caressed them.
By this stage there would be a number of erect penises in view, as she turned over for a back massage, which almost sent her to sleep. Certainly she failed to notice just how many intrigued onlookers gathered behind her to see how it would progress. Whatever they were expecting, for her, the last and best part was a bottom massage and she took her knickers off and placed the cushion under her tummy to raise her shapely firm buttocks for the purpose.
To give her the best treatment I sat astride her, facing backwards, and parted her legs to massage her inner thigh, at the same time lubricating and opening both of her holes for a relaxing experience in the open air. She said she preferred me to concentrate on massaging her bottom without trying to masturbate her pussy, as she didn't feel able to come with people watching.
As this was always a two-handed task, I couldn't wank, but looking round (on one mind-blowing occasion, at twenty jerking cocks), I seemed to be the only one who wasn't. However, my compensation was the pride in seeing so many blokes appreciating my gorgeous wife - and she always knew when I was playing to the gallery, because I would pause during massage strokes to hold her bum wide open or stick my finger up her arse, in response to signaled requests.
Because she was elevated, parted and lubricated, this massage position had the desired effect of enabling the audience (including gays) to look right up her gaping vagina and anus simultaneously, as their semen started to become airborne. Judging by the number of glistening white patches on the surrounding sand, she certainly succeeded in generating a high level of satisfaction.
To their credit they nearly always came over afterwards to compliment and thank her personally for being such a good sport, or stay for a friendly chat. I will always be grateful to my lovely wife for these interludes and for the respect shown her by those to whom she extended the privilege of seeing her.



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