Nudism and Academic Politics 01

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When Frank and Susana Kestler were living in Florida, they practiced naturism on a regular basis with some enlightened colleagues. They were reluctant at first, but after a weekend “tryout” sponsored by their friends (who were members), they became active participants in the “anti-textile” way of life. There were many sunny days in Florida that made naturist exposure to the elements a pleasurable experience. They took advantage of the weather and proximity of the nudist colony to satisfy their desire to shed their clothes and social inhibitions at the same time.

Their story is an interesting tale of random encounters and scholarly endeavors meshed together. It all started on a French beach in the South of France during a summer vacation.

Neither had been raised in an open-minded household, but naturism became for them a “secretive” way of life after some very liberated and professionally important friends introduced them to the nudist (or naturist) style of living in one of the nudist colonies in central Florida.

It wasn’t the first time they had sampled public nudism; in fact, they had spent part of a summer vacation traipsing around in the buff or “all together” at Cap d’Agde in southern France just after graduating from college. It was a life-altering experience.

Nudism would eventually become a refuge from the complexities and stress of their academic lives. They were a loving and talented couple, seeking a way in central Florida to replicate the intensity of their slightly wayward youth abroad. Here’s their story:

Oddly enough, as mentioned above, they had met on a nudist beach in France. It was an experience that Frank would never have imagined in America. He was from southern Georgia (a small town not too far from Savannah) and Susana was a graduate of Wellesley College in the Boston area. They met when studying abroad in France–they were both Fulbright scholars in Strasbourg, France, right at the German border. They were hard-core Francophiles who wanted to experience every aspect of French culture…both the bawdy life style of the Mediterranean coast and the unforgettable masterpieces of French history and literature.

Their initial encounter took place on the Riveria, or the Côte d’Azur, where they were vacationing with friends. Frank was traveling with German-speaking classmates from Strasbourg who were naturists…members of the FKK (German Nudist Association) and who were very open to going nude on European beaches and even at public parks where it was permitted in Germany.

One day, during their summer holidays in the South of France (le Midi), Rudy Heinrich, who came from Stuttgart, invited his American friend, Frank Kestler, to visit Cap d’Agde, which was a well-known nudist beach and famous for its moral laxity and public display of sexuality. Other beaches in the area were more receptive to family life and limited any flagrant display of nudity. Normally there would be a prominent sign announcing: le nu intégral est obligatoire au delà de ce point…or no clothes, butt naked please beyond this point.

Clothing was optional on many beaches along the Mediterranean coast. Sunbathers could choose to wear a bathing suit (un maillot de bain) or–if female–to go bare-breasted. Some, more audacious, did wander around completely nude, together with those wearing a bathing suit, but this was not common.

Coming from southern Georgia, but being somewhat daring at twenty-three years of age, Frank accompanied his buddy Rudy Heinrich into the “nu intégral” area at Cap d’Agde, equipped with a bathing suit (as a back-up), a bottle of sun screen, a large towel, bottled water, and beach blanket. He was also wearing a broad-brimmed hat to protect his head. He was fair-skinned and blond; as a result, he fervently hoped that sun screen would not let the rest of him roast in the summer sun.

He didn’t know what to expect. Rudy assured him that it was like a huge outdoor party of sun lovers. Just enjoy yourself! You’ll meet some good-looking girls!

Rudy Heinrich was used to taking off his clothes in public and he paraded around with a fashionable ease, jumping into the water and then stretching out on the sand, exposing himself to sunshine and curious stares.

Rudy had carefully applied sunscreen to all portions of his body, in particular his pubic area. Frank, who was circumcised, noted that almost all European males were not “snipped.” Many of them were tanned to a deep brown color and seemed fashionably trim. Very few naturists were heavyset or obese. They felt very much at ease in the nude or “bien dans leur peau.”

As they were soaking up some rays at Cap d’Agde, Frank noticed a group of young women strolling by au naturel. He was surprised to see how relaxed everyone seemed. There was no sign of shyness, no one tried to cover up body parts, and they were not particularly interested in Frank Kestler or Rudy Heinrich.

One of the girls was, by her accent, an American, although she spoke very fluent French. güvenilir bahis Her companions seemed to be native speakers. Being a young man, he also noted that the American beach walker was very attractive. She had large breasts that swayed as she walked; the French girls had smaller “nichons” (breasts) but very round hips and shapely legs.

The American girl was much taller with long legs and an athletic body overall. She had probably been a volley ball player in college or some other type of athlete. She looked a little older than an undergraduate, e.g. a third-year abroad American student who would be studying French culture in all its various aspects.

None of them were shaved in the pubic area. At that time, it wasn’t something that European women did. They had a very natural appearance all over their bodies. A few didn’t even shave their legs or armpits.

Later when he thought about it, Frank didn’t know why he stood up, very nude, and approached the American girl as though walking toward her on an American campus. He remembered saying something really stupid, even embarrassing: “Hey, I hope you don’t mind if I walk with you a while. I’m an American, studying in France. I haven’t seen someone from back home in a long time.”

The American girl…whose name he later found out was Susana…looked at him in surprise. She answered in French, “Eh bien, je suis contente de savoir que tu fais tes études en France, mais moi, je me promène sur la plage avec mes copines maintenant.” (It’s nice to know you’re studying in France but I’m with my friends now walking along the beach).

Frank, copying the cruising habits of the French guys he knew, persisted, “Je m’appelle Frank . Comment est-ce que tu t’appelles?” (I’m Frank. What’s your name?).

Susana gave him a funny look and turned away. Her French friends began to giggle. “Celui-là, c’est un mauvais dragueur.” (He’s not very good at this, is he?). “Eh, mon pote,” they called out, “nous nous promenons. Laisse-nous un peu tranquille, veux-tu?” (Hey, guy, we’re walking on the beach. Enough of this. Bye, bye.)

Frank sensed he was getting nowhere with the French girls, but Susana seemed a little interested. She gave him a quick smile but continued to walk with her friends. She looked over her shoulder as they walked away. Frank had the impression he had just met someone special.

Frank noted that she had a very tight, curvy rear end. French guys must be after her all the time, he imagined. She had light brown hair and an innocent but sexy look about her. Southern girls–certainly not from southern Georgia–would never be seen walking butt naked on a French beach and talking to strangers in the nude.

I wonder what she thinks of me? he asked himself. She didn’t stare but she must have sized up my masculinity, which was above average…competitive with what he was seeing on the beach. The European males weren’t circumcised but he had been. In a manner of speaking, he stood out among the natives. No, he wasn’t Jewish. A lot of the people who saw him on the beach thought he was.

At that moment, his dilemma grew more agonizing. He really liked her; he had to do something to get her name and where she was staying. He ran back to Rudy and told him that he was going to follow this girl and see if he could get her name and some information.

Rudy laughed. “Happy hunting, mein Freund. She’s a beauty. She’ll just brush you off for a French guy with a big cock. They really know how to seduce women, die Franzosen. Viel Glück! (Lots of luck)”

Frank ignored Rudy’s advice and jogged back to be with the American girl. When he caught up with her, she switched to English and moved a little closer toward him. “What are you studying in France?” she asked.

Frank sighed. At least she’s speaking to me! “I’m a Fulbright scholar. I’m studying international relations in Strasbourg. ‘The rise of fascism in Europe from the nineteen-twenties to the present day.’ That’s the subject of my thesis at the university.”

“No kidding. I’m a Fulbright too. I’m concentrating on right wing authors in Europe during the rise of fascism. Basically, I’m majoring in French and European studies, also at the university. I studied German too in college. Funny coincidence.”

All of a sudden, he mentioned a book he was reading about the Occupation of France, and they started an animated conversation.

The French girls waved and went in another direction. “Bonne chance avec ton pote, ma puce. Attention. Il est séduisant. Assure-toi qu’il mette sa capote ce soir.” (“Good luck with your guy, dearie. Be careful, he’s good-looking. Make sure he wears a condom tonight.”)

Frank was a little puzzled. “What’s a ‘capote’? A raincoat?” Susana broke out laughing.

“No. That’s something that you should put on down there…she pointed at his penis…when, you know…”

“Wow. They’re hard to get in small towns.”

“Not really. If you know where to go. They tell me that both girls and boys bring them güvenilir bahis siteleri to Cap d’Agde…for obvious reasons.”

She smiled knowingly. The sun was now starting to go down and her breasts took on an earthy, warm glow as they swayed with her movements. She was really built, Frank thought, as he sized up her body.

“You really are pretty, you know.” God, he thought, was that gauche or what? She must think I’m from the boonies.

Susana laughed at his remark. “Really, that’s not a very effective line. I bet you say that to all your girlfriends.”

“No, I really mean it. We just met, but I like you.” He paused briefly. “Is there any way I could get your address or a cell phone number?” She didn’t answer right away but by the same token didn’t say anything discouraging.

“Do you feel like sitting down somewhere? I’ve been walking for about two hours. I’m getting a little tired.” She stopped and looked around. “This is a good place to people watch.”

Frank spread out his towel and said, “This is all I’ve got. It’s a little small for two people.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t sit down right here, okay?” Susana was somewhat leery of being that close to her new American companion.

“Look, if you don’t mind, I can run back and get my blanket. I’m here with a German friend. It’s plenty big for two of us.”

She nodded and sat down to wait in the sand. Several passers-by looked at her with interest, assuming she was alone. She shook her head when they asked her to take a walk with them. Two of them had erections and were overtly trying to draw Susana’s attention. She turned away and snickered. Frank quickly returned with his blanket and they continued to walk very slowly toward the dunes.

Frank noticed that many young couples had also begun to walk toward the beach dunes where people were congregating, probably to smoke pot and do other things. Many of them were holding hands or had their arms wrapped around their waists. There were clusters of young people sitting together with cigarettes, water bottles, and food containers. It gave the appearance of a big picnic in the dunes.

Susana stopped when she saw the groups of young sunbathers.

“Look Frank. At this beach, people come here to hook up at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s just a beach party which would be fun. I think, however, we’re going to see some pretty hot stuff–really heavy body to body contact–in a little while when the sun starts to go down.” She didn’t indicate she wanted to leave. She had just warned him, an innocent American student in France, about the sexual habits of the French who sunbathed at Cap d’Agde.

One couple had already begun to caress each other. She was lying across his lap and he was massaging her breasts in full view of everyone. She was rubbing his legs lazily and he would occasionally lean over to kiss her. Other couples had begun to arrive; what seemed to be a collective swingers group was taking form.

“Look, Susana (Frank had managed to get her first name), if this makes you uncomfortable, maybe we should go someplace else.”

Susana looked at him and then at his penis, that was beginning to come erect, little by little.

“Let’s stay a while and see what happens, southern boy. After all, this is France, where love is everywhere, especially at Cap d’Agde.”

Frank got the impression she was testing him, trying to see how far he would go. There was a strange electricity in the air, a sort of public sensuality that made people ignore their normal moral reticence and free up the primitive side of their character.

She moved a little closer, looking him directly in the eyes. He extended his hand and brushed back her long brownish hair. She moved forward until their bodies touched. She then slowly cupped his face in her hands. They embraced tentatively at first and continued with a growing passion.

He quickly moved his hands down to hide his penis which had come erect as she stroked his stomach.

“Look, I don’t have a ‘capote’ so let’s sorta take it easy right now, okay?

“Well, there are more ways to skin a cat, as they say.” Frank looked at her in a puzzled manner.

“Okay, that means?”

“Let me show you one way.” She reached down and grasped his erect penis and began to stroke it gently…in the same way others were doing nearby. “My, my, that got pretty big, pretty quickly!”

Frank lay back on the blanket to give her room to rub his abdomen and continue her fellatio. He reached over and began to caress her breasts and pubic area. Nearby, girls had begun to utter long moans and even shrill cries as their love-making became more vigorous. Frank glanced briefly to one side and could see several men penetrating their girlfriends from the rear, les prenant en levrette, as the French said.

“They use that position to protect themselves from the sand,” Susana said in a matter-of-fact way. “You really can’t do missionary style unless you have a way to wash off.”

At that moment iddaa siteleri Frank became aware of how sophisticated Susana was. How many times had she done this: come to the nude beach, picked up a stranger, and had sex with him in a swingers group? He needed to learn a lot about this very desirable, very aggressive woman he was fondling and captivated by. Coming from the Boston area must be a liberating experience in all facets of life. This openness was not allowed–not by a long shot–at Jeckle Island or on the Carolina beaches close to where he lived.

Frank pulled her down next to him on the blanket. “I feel great. Don’t stop, it’s really good. You’ve done this a lot, I guess.”

“You’re no puritan, from what I gather, southern boy. How many Southern belles have you had…Combien en as-tu dépucelé? (How many cherries have you popped?), Susana added in French. “They must have enjoyed it from the size of this thing I’ve got in my hand.” She took the shaft of his penis, squeezed it, and then shook it from right to left. She was smiling at his reaction.

They were blending in with the beach swingers now–in full sexual mode.

“Hey, how do want to handle this?” Frank asked. “Do I do know, suck your clit and those things…or do you make me come? Are these your alternatives?”

“Wash your mouth out with soap, my Confederate love bug. Let’s try both of the above and see how things turn out.” Susana bent over and began to suck his penis aggressively with a distinct smacking noise. Frank positioned himself in a 69 posture, soixante-neuf, and licked her clitoris as she was stroking his erection. He noticed she was very moist and his face was getting covered with her juices.

Susana chuckled and wiped his face with the towel. She kissed him and ran her tongue around his lips. Her hands felt like silken gloves going over his skin.

All around, people were walking nude; the men had full erections and the women were lying on blankets, spreading their thighs as an invitation. There were couples going from one group to another. Cries of pleasure and orgasms could be heard all over.

As Frank was beginning to enjoy himself, a young couple came up and lay beside them. The woman reached out and rubbed his abdomen while the man squeezed Susana’s breasts. “Eh bien, ma belle, tu me fais la pipe?” (Hey, pretty girl. Are you going to suck my cock?) The man’s penis was erect, very thick, and placed near Susana’s face.

Frank tried to push them away, but the woman began to tickle his testicles. Her partner was sucking Susana’s nipples and rubbing her pubis. She was passively lying by Frank’s side, seemingly enjoying the foursome. The outsider then spread her legs and attempted to mount her.

“Dégage, crétin. T’es couvert de sable. Ta bite pue! Moi, j’ai pas envie que tu me baises.” (Get out of here, idiot. You’re covered with sand and you stink. I’m not going to fuck you, no way.)

He said something that Frank didn’t understand, but Susana was trying to push him away. He had pinioned her and had his penis at the entrance to her vagina, pushing hard. “Détends-toi. Tu jouiras. Je m’y connais.” (Relax. You’ll enjoy this. I know how to do it.)

“Pas question. T’as pas de capote!” (No way. You don’t have a condom!) Susana yelled. Frank pushed the woman aside and grabbed the Frenchman who was smaller than he was and threw him to one side. “Fous-moi le camp, imbécile.” (Get lost, you jerk!) Frank was proud of his idiomatic French that came into good use. The Frenchman made an obscene gesture and aimed at another couple nearby.

“Ce sale type. Il a failli me violer.” (That son-of-a-bitch almost raped me!) Susana said in French and stood up, shaking her body and large breasts, getting rid of the sand.

“Let’s get out of here, southern boy. We can finish what we started someplace else.”

Frank grabbed his towel and blanket; Susana took his hand as they walked back toward the beach. He noted that his erection was still rock hard and he was very aroused. He could hardly believe his good luck.

“Let’s wash off in the water,” she said and began running toward the Mediterranean that had a silvery glaze over its surface.

In the water, Frank rubbed her body and she wiped the sand off his erection as well as from his legs and abdomen. She then drew him near, kissed him passionately, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

He felt his penis plunge deeply into her vagina and she moaned as they moved together, back and forth, at a rhythmic, almost feverish pace. She gasped and clutched at his back; he pulled her closer and closer. He had never experienced sexual pleasure like this before with the girls he had slept with.

They both gave off orgasmic cries that echoed across the water and he embraced her, encircling her body with his arms. Afterwards, they headed back to the beach and stretched the blanket out to lie on.

“Well,” he said, “I guess we’ll think about the ‘capote’ next time.”

“God, that was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. You are good, southern boy. I’m chilled out.” She reached down and fondled his now flaccid penis. He lightly stroked her breasts. She laid her head on his shoulder and they stared at the starry night in wonder.

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