Show , Tell Ch. 25

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Ball Gag

As the summer continued, Elle’s best friend Kathy, and her husband Vic, invited Elle and Todd to spend a weekend with them at their “Time Share” condo in Provincetown, on the tip of Cape Cod. This was the third year in a row they’d offered the invitation and in each of the previous years, Elle would have to make an excuse for their not being able to make it.

That year it was no different, except Todd pushed back way too hard!

“How many times do I have to tell you that I am not going to that cesspool! Not for you, not for Kathy and especially not for Vic.”

“Why not?” Elle tried, for the tenth time, “it would be fun.”

“FUN? Sorry…, no! Too many fucking queers, too many fucking fairies…, too many ass fucking, fucking faggots!! My luck, I’d get bitten by a fucking mosquito and catch AIDS!!”

Disgusted, she told him, “Well I’m going. I don’t care if I go by myself, but I’m not telling her “no” again.”

“Have a good time,” he spat, walking out of the room, “and don’t bring anything home with you.”

She called me the next morning, begging me to go with her.

I told her I could, “possibly” do a Saturday overnight, but that would be it.

With less than two days to arrange things, I called a buddy and asked him to come up with a plan. He called my house that afternoon, “looking for me.” But with me, “not there,” left a message that he’d signed us up for a, “member-guest,” at his club on Saturday, with a “players” dinner on Friday night. “I was supposed to play with my brother-in-law, but he was called out of town, so…”

It worked so well that my wife had packed my suitcase for the weekend by the time I got home that night, and I left the next morning so I could be in Pennsylvania for our Friday “dinner.” My wife was off to her sister’s again, a weekend free from me!

Good wingmen are hard to find!

Since Elle had told Todd she was leaving after work on Friday, I met her, switched cars in case Todd checked the odometer, and we drove into the city, had an early dinner and then did something that she’d been talking about for… ever.

We went to a movie.

Spent the night at our motel, a first for us as we’d never spent a night together, enjoyed a leisurely night of sex… lots of sex, as neither of us had anything else to do but please one another… and then slept until after 8:00 AM.

We cleaned up, stopped for breakfast and then headed for the Cape, a relaxing morning drive on a beautiful day, what I had in mind.

The drive took over three nail biting hours, traffic a bear, everything backed up in the usual places.

Once in Provincetown, however, Kathy’s resort was easy to find, barely a half mile from the center of town. While both Kathy and Vic knew about our affair, I’d only met Kathy once. Vic’s knowledge was confined to Elle’s changing clothes at his house on the nights I took her out, although I had to believe he and Kathy had shared “pillow talk” about the affair.

Then, as we approached the door to their condo, Elle turned and looked at me… her eyes wide and said, “Oh shit! I never called Kathy to tell her I was bringing you!”

I shrugged.

So when Kathy opened the door and she and Vic saw me walk in, it was Vic’s, “Who the fuck are you…, and where is Todd?” that greeted me.

Five minutes later, after Elle had done a fine job reciting her husband’s homophobic diatribe, he looked at me and asked, “And

Shrugging, I told him, “I’m not all that crazy about fucking mosquitoes either.”

His next question was, after he’d stopped laughing, “What can I make you to drink?”

They were an oddly matched couple, at least physically. Kathy was slightly taller than Vic, and was probably the same weight. She was what we use to call, “athletic,” or, “big boned.” She had a pretty face, nicely made-up and had a, “big girl,” figure. Vic was fairly average; maybe 5’9″ tops, but looked to be in good physical shape. His head was shaved, a neat moustache and goatee. Both were dressed for the beach.

Sitting on their balcony sundeck I found out that the resort had two pools, one for adults only and access to an extensive beach, almost a mile long, at the bottom of the property While all of that sounded very appealing, Vic pointed out that the resort was, “…, very kid friendly,” and that nude sunbathing, while not forbidden, was severely, “… frowned upon.”

“Nude sunbathing,” I asked, “who’s interested in nude sunbathing?”

“We are,” Kathy answered, “it’s one of the big reasons we bought this week. Unless you have a very private backyard, or a rooftop deck, finding a place to hang around naked is pretty near impossible in Rhode Island.”

I looked at Elle, a giant question mark on my face. She shrugged.

“How about the beaches here…, Race Point or Herring Cove, they allow nude sunbathing don’t they?” I inquired.

“Sure,” Vic replied, “but most of the time, both look like Route 95 at rush hour. Plus, you get all of the visiting, “Day Trip Peepers,” coming by bus from Boston and New York, and then canlı bahis throw in our own assorted perverts and deviants… But…enough about the negatives… put on your bathing suits and we’ll take a walk.”

Since I am to sunbathing, what Death Valley is to fishing, a bathing suit a nebulous term when it comes to me. I’ve been known to show up at the beach in a three piece suit! That day I wore shorts that were below my knees, a long sleeved t-shirt and a wide brimmed golf hat. Oh, and globs of
0 sunscreen.

“Sexy!” Elle observed as she came out of the bathroom.

She, on the other hand, had a box full of minimalist bathing suits to pick from, all but one that I’d purchased from an on-line store. Today she’d chosen her blue, “Peek-a-boo Sling,” and the name said it all! It was a collection of “Strings” made of elasticized material, less than one half inch wide that were connected to each other to form a…, collection of strings that was supposed to resemble a bathing suit.

That was it! For all intents and purposes, she was naked.

“You comfortable wearing that in front of Kathy and Vic, mostly Vic?”

“Yes…” she answered, looking at herself in the full length mirrors that were the doors to the bedroom closet, “why shouldn’t I be?”

Dropping to my knees in front of her I slowly licked her crotch in the empty space where there should have been material. Moments later I was tonguing her pussy, her legs parting to offer me complete access.

She was moaning in seconds, her back against the mirrors, her hands on the back of my head.

“Hey!” suddenly from the living room, “Save that for later. I want to go to the beach!”


We both laughed as I got up, Beth kissing me and licking her juices off my face, then wiping her tongue on the back of her hand, “Yuk…, that sunscreen tastes awful!

She took out a beach cover-up, lots of flowers, very pretty and so opaque she could have been wearing a coat of armor underneath it.

“Someone will be surprised…,” I told her with a wink, “when you take that off.”

“Pretty,” both Kathy and Vic offered when she stepped out of the bedroom.

“Planning on snow?” he laughed when I walked out.

Despite the, “Adults Only,” sign on the smaller pool, there were a half dozen young teenagers in the vicinity, as well as children on the balconies above the area, completely discouraging any sort of nude sunbathing.

Disappointed, Vic led us out to the beach, a long quarter moon shape that started in front of the property and continued to some large sand dunes to our left and continued almost to the Town line with Truro. We walked to our left, lots of families down close to the water, the crowd thinning as we continued to walk.

Elle and I ventured down to the water’s edge, a breeze blowing in, the air cooler. Since I’d been to P-town many times over the years, I knew what to expect when we stepped into the water…, it was going to be freezing! Elle, not having been there since she was a kid, had no memory of the water temperature, kids frolicking in it, no matter how cold.

“Holy shit,” she shouted, “its freezing!!”

Kathy and Vic, standing nearby, both laughed out loud at her reaction and then agreeing with me that, at Herring Cove beach, maybe two miles southwest of where we were standing, the water would be at least twenty, more likely twenty five degrees warmer.

“Why?” Elle asked.

“Race Point,” I answered, “the Gulf of Maine versus Atlantic Ocean. The current off Race Point traps the cold water from the Gulf of Maine in P-town harbor and this beach and then all the way north to Canada. The outer beaches, Race Point, Herring Cove and all the way down the National Seashore, get the warm Atlantic waters pushed against the outer Cape.”

“Never thought you’d be getting a NOAA lesson when we walked out here, did you?” Kathy said to her. “I had no idea your boyfriend knew so much about Earth Sciences.”

She laughed and said, “He’s always telling me that…, “My brain is a vast wasteland of useless information!” But…, believe me, there’s not a lot that he doesn’t know about the oceans.”

“Why is that?” Vic asked either, or both of us.

Before I could answer, Elle asked, “What’s in the water?”

“I don’t know…, fish?” he replied.

“Right answer,” she said with a smile.

As we continued to walk, the four of us discussed the ocean, currents, fish populations and then seafood. Five minutes later, we’d walked away from the crowds and were walking on a, seemingly, deserted strip of beach. Vic and Kathy led us away from the water and into a group of medium sized sand dunes, most covered with sea grass. We’d all been carrying beach towels, Vic and Kathy both with small backpacks. Spreading out the towels, we all sat down, Vic producing a chilled bottle of wine from his backpack, Kathy a fresh baguette of French bread, a block of cheese and four ripe apples.

Instant lunch!

Vic then stood up, looked out at the water, pulled off his t-shirt and then dropped his bahis siteleri bathing suit onto his towel.


Kathy, no shrinking violet, stood and did the same, both of them now standing and both naked.

Elle giggled.

My mouth was hanging open. When they’d talked about nude sunbathing in the condo, I figured it was something they would do when alone.

Guess not!

Elle, now standing, doffed her cover-up, revealing the, “Peek-a-boo Sling.”

“Wow!” Kathy breathed, while Vic offered his own opinion…, “Jesus, and I always thought you dressed like a fucking nun!”

All four of us had tears in our eyes over that.

Now they were all looking at me.

I smiled and asked Elle, “Hey baby, can I borrow your cover-up?”

Which I did and then covered my legs with it, while telling them, “My dermatologist is probably hiding just over the next dune with a tank of nitrous oxide, a tube of Bacitracin, and his billing pad! Nude Moonbathing is more my thing!”

When I finally did take my shirt off, I was pelted with empty cups, the residue of lunch and shouts of, “Put it back on…, you’re blinding us!”

We stayed for over an hour, talking about lots of things, mostly Elle and Todd’s relationship, Elle and my relationship and why Vic was completely, and I mean not a hair on his body.

“How often do you have to shave?” I asked, figuring it had to be daily.

“Never shave anymore,” he informed us, “had it all lasered off to match my bald head!”

I’d been right about him being in good physical shape. At age forty four, he was built like a well conditioned thirty year old. Combine that, his “package,” an easily six inch hang, with his tanned hairless body, and I could see why Elle was giving him very appreciative looks!

Kathy was also hairless in all the right places, as was Elle, and she was in much better physical shape that I’d thought. She had a figure, her waist much thinner than her upper and lower body, but she was still, “big boned,” and looked like a giant next to Elle. With the lunch finished and the air getting cooler, we decided to head back, stopping once so they could get dressed.

Back in the condo, Vic made a pitcher of margaritas and we were back on their balcony sundeck, the three of them, even Elle, shucking off their bathing suits to nude sunbath some more.

I sat on a lounge chair in the shade of an overhang.

More discussion, this about the history of P-town, and how it had transformed itself from a tiny, three hundred year old fishing village, into “THE” summer retreat of the gay community. “Eight or nine months a year,” Vic recited, “you can fire a cannon down Commercial Street, and not hit anything except, maybe, a stray seagull. These other months though…!”

Elle confessed she remembered little about her first and only visit, other than her father complaining to her mother about the, “long drive.”

To which Vic responded, “Well… let’s get your cute little ass into town and properly introduce you to Provincetown.”

A half hour later, the four of us were walking down Commercial Street, Vic, Kathy and I in our bathing suits and t-shirts, Elle making the concession from the “Sling,” to her pink bikini top and her white, “extremely short,” short shorts.

Oh…, and I was still wearing my hat.

It was very busy, crowds of people, lots of cars and the occasional sightseeing bus. It was also very evident that P-towns reputation as a, “gay” friendly town was well deserved. The gay and lesbian communities were well represented and there were also a number of, “Drag Queens,” and “Transvestites,” roaming the street, almost all passing out cards advertising shows at the various clubs. One had to be 6’8″, beautiful face, long blond hair, great body, resplendent in a long black, top slit to the belly button, bottom slit to the hip, sequined dress, fishnet stockings, 6″ heels…, and riding a motorized skateboard!!

Elle could not and would not believe she was a man until Vic stopped him and asked what time the show started. His baritone reply convinced her, as well as his admission that he was, in fact, a man and his invitation for HER to join HIM after the 11:00 show at The Crown & Anchor Hotel.

“They still have, “Happy Hour,” there at 4:00?” Vic asked.

“Nah,” he responded, “it’s at the Harborside now. Bigger pool deck, better drinks. Maybe I’ll see you there,” as he rode off.

We walked four more blocks before getting to the Harborside, the “Techno,” music blasting at poolside audible from a half block away.

The clientele at the Harborside, “Happy Hour,” proved to be a surprise, at least for Elle and I. Walking through the archway and onto the giant pool deck we found at least a hundred men of all descriptions, dancing and frolicking to the music. Elle, Kathy and one bartender the only, “real,” females at Happy Hour!

Vic and I walked to the bar to buy drinks for the four of us, only to have two young gay boys approach, “forbidding,” the bartender, (male) to take a drink order from us. bahis şirketleri “Bring females to the pool deck,” one said with a smile, “and you drink for free!” Looking me up and down, he couldn’t resist asking, “And what kind of fashion statement are you attempting to achieve?” Smiling, I replied, “I call it, “Solar Keratosis.” I’m appealing to the geriatric crowd.” Having no idea what I was talking about, the kid said, “Well, I know it works for you darling…, and I love the hat!”

Vic, however, did get it and was still laughing when we got back to the girls. “What are you laughing about?” Kathy asked him. Still unable to answer, I told her, “I got a fashion review from a couple of admirers and Vic’s still laughing because one of them loved my hat.”

That started him all over again, and when he’d finally recovered, he gave Elle a hug and said, “Don’t let this guy go!”

Then he disappeared.

For the next hour, the three of us stood on the deck, drinking, and talking to twenty different guys, all of whom wanted to either: a) date me. b) Become my fashion co-coordinator or c) trade their bikini top for Elle’s.

She and I also discovered that…, the longer Happy Hour went on, this less inhibited the crowd became. In no time, any number of the boys had shed their clothing, and were trolling naked around the deck looking for dates. One particularly handsome lad even propositioned me, as I stood between Elle and Kathy. His, “And what are you doing later Sweetie?” answered by Elle, who actually reached down and patted his cock, before saying, “He’ll be with me and using his…,” now picking up his dick and holding it in the palm of her hand, “one of these to make me very happy!” Giving her a wink and a kiss on the cheek, his cock even showing a little movement, he walked away, the “Bitch!” remark he shot back over his shoulder, was offered with a smile.

At about 5:30, Vic reappeared, apologizing and telling us he’s stumbled upon an old friend and had been talking to him. He then told us that we’d all been invited to be the guy’s guests for the 11:00 PM show, taking place at, “The Crown & Anchor’s Bistro Theater.”

“What kind of show is it? Elle asked.

“Drag Queens imitating famous celebrities,” he responded.

“They’re always great,” Kathy interjected, “and really funny.”

That got us headed back to the resort, needing to shower and clean up. Vic had made reservations for an 8:30 dinner, so we had plenty of time.

Back in the room, Elle wanted to fool around, but I wanted to wait, an evening of new and strange sights and experiences was bound to make her horny and I wanted to enjoy all of it with my libido still in full gear. I had, however, planned for this very possibility, buying her a new vibrator just in case she had the need. This one was small, not much larger than the palm of my hand, but had a feature that was sure to titillate. The entire gadget vibrated and “oscillated,” each function having three speeds.

As always, she claimed to have NO mechanical skills, leaving it up to me to teach her how to use the device. Between my fingers, pleasuring areas that the vibrator could not reach…, and my tongue, adding additional pleasure to where the machine was operating, she was screaming within moments, loud knocks on the wall an indication that her erotic amusement had caught our host’s attention.

We took a short nap once SHE’D decided that she’d had enough, my having to hide the toy from her so she couldn’t ask for an encore when she woke up! When she did ask where I’d hidden it, I told her I’d given it to Kathy for “safe keeping.”

By 8:00, Vic, Kathy and I were back on the balcony, another drink, the restaurant, according to Vic, only a short drive away. By 8:25, all three of us were calling for the habitually late Elle, who was still in our room getting ready. Kathy and I were already at the elevator when we heard Vic exclaim, “Are you really going to wear that!”

I was wearing slacks and a Polo shirt, Kathy looking like a twin to me, her Polo sleeveless, her pants mid calf. Vic was looking very dapper, matching tan linen pants and long sleeve shirt and finally… Elle.

Sometimes I really need to be careful with her because she tends to think… no… she firmly believes, that… “less is more!”

This was another one of those times.

A very nice black mini dress, no idea where she bought it, but it was very sexy! That was especially true because the top, from the waist up, was made of fishnet, with cowl front that tied behind her neck, making the dress backless. It had come with a bikini top and g-string that matched the bottom material, … but tonight, she was wearing nothing under everything.

“Wow…, don’t you look hot,” Kathy declared, her hand going to Elle’s shoulder to make her do a pirouette, “very sexy!”

“Hey, if nice looking young men can walk around naked in public, “she offered, “why can’t I wear something that offers an illusion of nudity?”

“Elle,” Vic proclaimed, “the only illusion what you’re wearing offers…, no shatters, is the one you’ve broken of mine. Like I said earlier, I’ve always known you to dress and act like a friggin nun. In less than twelve hours you’ve destroyed that delusion and…, God I love the new you!!”

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