Broke Oak, Beginning

I'm retired now. Have been for a few years, but I haven't acted very retired until recently. I am 62, widowed, and formerly a process engineer. I retired a little after my 56th birthday.

My wife Meg and I were always very happy, but we always stayed way to busy. That was why I was not very retired. About 2 years ago, she passed away suddenly. At first, I was too shaken to stay busy, but eventually, I just realized that the more I stayed busy, the lonelier my life remained. I needed to slow down and smell some flowers and coffee. BOTH!

Megs and I had gone to nudist camps and vacation resorts when she was alive, but it was never a huge thing to us, though we enjoyed it a lot. But, on the other hand, it was not convenient to our go-go-go lifestyle. But we had felt some of our calmest and closest times in our nudist hobbies, so I did the unexpected and 6 months after she passed, I found a park model for sale at Broke Oak River Resort and I bought it!

So that background brings me to this story today. I have now lived here for over 2 years and I want to write down some of my experiences and capture future events to share with you. I usually won't need to worry about sequence and will just tell stories as I recall them or as they happen. But this story will sort of set the scene for everything, so I invite you to read it first.

Broke Oak is near San Antonio, off the highway to Del Rio, maybe 12 miles on a county road. It butts against a river of reasonable size. The river loops around 3 sides of the resort and fence and greenbelt provide the resort with the rest of its privacy.

I have a 32 foot Olympic that has been well kept and somewhat refurbished and upgraded. I enjoy cooking and my refurbed kitchen is the best in the whole resort. The owner's wife, Betty, uses my kitchen to cook the main dishes for the monthly potluck. I help her, but she pilot's that flight, for sure. Her husband Ted is my friend and trusts and understands.

Of course we cook nude, and I love to watch her move around as she cooks. I mean parts shift and sway and jiggle. It's a wonder I don't get dizzy. Betty knows I watch and she knows I am attracted, but we never cross the line, except in being open in our talk. We both say what hits our mind. We enjoy it, and we let it be at that. She looks, too. And although my dick is available to be seen any time, she sees different angles and positions. And she sees closeups. But for some reason, Betty is an ass-woman, she likes to see my ass, so I oblige and let her look. Why is looking so much fun when everyone's nude already? Not sure, but maybe it is that it is not polite in normal nude settings to really look, you are supposed to act like you can't see even though everyone knows you can...

Every so often we'll be cooking and will have 15 or 30 minutes to wait, so we'll grab a cup of coffee or iced tea and sit and talk. These are great times. When we sit in the breakfast nook, we always sit on the bench, turned toward each other, one arm and leg on the bench. This puts genitals wide open and visible. We would both look, sometimes discretely and sometimes pretty openly. But we never commented or talked about what we saw, we just appreciated. I truly loved the way her inner labia extended out beyond her outer lips and that they looked so much like flower petals...

Many, many nudist conversations center on the nude lifestyle, how we or others got into it, and why we like it so much. During one of these conversations, she said as simply as could be that she liked to watch my dick go through various stages of soft, semi-hard, and hard when we were having our talks. She said she appreciated my openness to let her see and enjoy. I responded that I loved to see her labia and imagine how they felt and tasted.

When I said that, Betty squirmed and after she sat still again, I noticed her labia were visibly moister and darker -- I was totally hard by then and Betty was looking solidly at my cock.

"Do you suppose ... " she started.

Not sure where she was going, I quickly interrupted that I didn't think I could, because I could never betray Ted.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of doing any of that." Betty countered. "I was thinking of other things. Do you think we could watch each other masturbate without getting carried away?"

"I bet we could ... " I tried back.

Betty slipped a hand onto her pussy and with two fingers, opened her outer labia. Then with her middle finger she drew her inner labia open slightly. Finally, she took the hand away and licked her finger while I watched.

I reached down and held my cock in my hand, softly pumping it once or twice and then stretching the skin, I pulled on it. My circumcised head got more enlarged, reddened, and the opening seemed to wink at Betty.

Both of us had crossed the line, not terribly, but enough to make this much okay and within our newly defined limits.

"Can we touch each other at all?" I asked.

"Not now, not today. But maybe we can some other time, let me think about it."

So with so little in the way of planning and only the no-touch rule, we sat and watched each other - performed for each other - and had magnificent orgasms shared as we watched and shuddered.

When Betty circled her clit with her right index finger, I was hypnotized at the involuntary shudders running throughout her frame. And then as her left hand put first two, then three fingers in her pussy, my breathing stopped. Betty noted my attention and when she removed her fingers and put them in her mouth, I came three spurts along my knee, thigh, and calf. The spurts were followed by a short flow of more cum -- during which she began to cum hard, holding her breath with a prolonged "yyyyessssss...." hissed out almost like a wild cat.

Incredibly exhausted we sat back and smiled. Our faces shared the immense release and relief, words were almost a disturbance. But Betty whispered "We need to do this again and include a little touchie-feelie when we do!" She got up and started gathering food to take to the potluck, I washed up and helped carry the heavy stuff.

Well, I have been having a very interesting life for a single man in his sixties, here at Broke Oak resort. If you'd like to hear more of my experiences her in south Texas, comment, respond, email, or maybe set a cactus on fire.

So long for now.