“What the fuck is he doing?” I cursed under my breath. I was more anxious about my wife’s nudity than my own.
“He’s coming to say hello,” Gemma giggled. “Just be polite.”
“Is that naturist etiquette? To come and say hello. I doubt it.” I moaned.
“Neither is sexual activity on the beach,” Gemma squeezed in before our ‘guest’ reached us.
The man was tall and wide, twice our age, and his front was covered in thick black hair. His cock hung between his legs, swaying as he walked with a bag on his shoulder. He was definitely in proportion to his overall height and size. Gemma blushed and watched him while I sat stressed and pissed off.
“Good afternoon. I’m sorry to disturb you. I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you tourists?” he asked nonchalantly, smiling at me before smiling and scanning his eyes over my wife.
Nodding as I gulped. “Yeah,”
Gemma was embarrassed and giggly, but she wasn’t put off by our ‘intruder’. “We’re just visiting the area for a week. It’s beautiful here,” came her reply.
My stomach then churned when my wife leaned back and stretched her arms behind her on the towel. Chest out, proudly showing off her big tits. Feet casually shoulder width apart, sitting with her knees raised, showing off her shaven cunt.
“It is indeed,” the man grinned, skirting his eyes over her body. “I’m a local. The names William, but everyone calls me Willie.” Gemma giggled openly and blushed beet root. I sat gob smacked; eyes wide. Was this guy fucking serious? “Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “I get it all the time.” He then leaned closer to me, reached down and offered his handshake.
“Tim,” I nodded, reluctantly accepting his hand, whilst clearly not wanting him to be there with us. I never wanted to be dressed so bad in my life either.
“I’m Gemma. It’s nice to meet you,” my wife replied very politely.
She then sat upright to shake his hand next. William watched her tits wobble when she moved, then I noticed my wife was watching his cock swing and hang in her direct line of sight.
“Is this your first time visiting a naturist beach?”
“Yes, is it that obvious,” I frowned.
“You just need to be very careful. I’ve been coming here for over thirty-years. People do sometimes get involved in… you know… but it’s greatly frowned upon by many. It could also get you into serious trouble.”
“Sorry,” my wife apologised. I looked at her disappointed. She had nothing to apologise to this guy for. He didn’t own the beach, but I understood what he was saying.
“Thanks for the tip. It’s duly noted. Is it often this quiet around here?” I needed to change the conversation slightly.
William stood confidently, not in an exhibitionist way, just relaxed and unfazed by what he caught us doing.
“It varies. Like I said, I’ve been coming here for over thirty years. Rarely have I seen more than a dozen naturists at any one time. Most of us sunbathe here in the dunes. We’re a friendly, chatty bunch, but please be careful in how you conduct yourselves.” William chuckled. “You’ll hear very few complaints from the men, but most of the women take their naturism extremely serious.”