“It isn’t pretty,” he continued, “And I don’t know how to tell it without using some very vulgar and mature language. But here goes. Sit back, Beth, and listen quietly.”
I braced myself for whatever was coming, and sat back.
“After you were born, your mom and I were very proud. We wanted to raise you with an open mind, free of the many social fetters that haunt our lives. But our own lives were changing as we got older and we didn’t tune in to the subtle changes at the same time. Our sex life had grown stale and uninteresting. For a while, after you were born, we fucked like rabbits on a regular basis, right there in bed, while you slept like an innocent baby. But as you grew, we decided to move the sex elsewhere…in the shower, in front of the bathroom mirror, but it became less and less thrilling. We eventually stopped having sex altogether.
“This went on for years until we settled into a pattern of sexless caring for each other, and for you. Then we got this invitation to attend a nudist party on St. Patrick’s Day. From the invitation we knew it was going to be a little wild, lots of drinking, which usually results in careless bouts of touching and feeling, among other things. Your mom wanted to go. We hadn’t been a part of the nudist community for a couple of years and it would be nice to see old friends again. She even went out and bought a…”
Here he stopped, wondering if he should continue.
“A little green thong,” I finished for him.
“Yes,” he said, “The little green thong. It was quite sexy and alluring. Sometimes when everybody is nude, a tiny piece of clothing can be very provocative. It’s funny how it works that way.”
He struggled to continue.
“Anyway, we had a bit to drink, and everybody was a little shit-faced, your mom more than most. The music was blaring and she started dancing, not just a little shaking and rattling, but slow and seductive, oozing suggestive body language with each subtle movement. It was pretty shameless really.”
He stopped and thought, as if seeing it all again. I looked at his eyes, which gazed into oblivion at the remembrance, and noticed his dick was hard, but I didn’t let him know I had noticed. In fact, I’m not sure he was aware of it.
“Suddenly, she noticed several of the guys were reaching out, trying to untie the hip-strings of the thong she was wearing. One fellow nearly nabbed it, but she slapped his hand and suddenly called out above the music, ‘Anyone who can take it off me, gets what’s inside!’ Then there was a sudden surge, as guys began to stumble and stagger all around her, laughing and making a great game of it.
“She ran out into the yard, followed by about seven or eight guys, myself included. The drink though, was getting to me, and soon I was heaving my guts out against the trunk of a tree. Meanwhile, the other guys were stumbling and staggering around my wife, trying unsuccessfully to untie the tiny thong and claim the prize. Finally, they formed a huddle and made a plan. They slowly circled around your mom and closed in, tackling her, and as a team, stripped her of the thong. Mind you, there was a lot of fondling in the process, and your mom seemed to enjoy it all immensely. But the problem came when they all claimed the prize, seeing that the only way they could strip it off her was as a team. Eight members of the team…eight claimants!
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