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This story comes as an submission from a real life CFNM fan! So be sure to let us all know what you think of the story... especially as other submissions that were previously submitted haven't really gotten many comments. It's discouraging for writers if they don't get any feedback, so let's let them know we appreciate their work, ok?? Thanks!
The Right Hon Mrs Grace de Vere Cobblehaugh sighed deeply. Mrs Cobblehaugh (pronounced “cobbler”) was not happy.
Yet why should this be? The heiress to the vast de Vere estate had every right to be content with her lot. After all, she was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a handsome, dashing husband. It was a glorious summer day in 1895, and the lawn outside her holiday cottage stretched down to a pretty little river. She was wealthy; she was healthy; she was still quite young; and she had good friends around her.
In fact one of those friends, Mrs Bea Hampton, was sitting with her at the breakfast table. And Bea noticed that a cloud had certainly passed across Grace’s lovely face.
“What’s up, darling?” enquired Bea. “Is it Bernard again?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is”, Grace replied. “It’s this telegram from the bank. Look!”
Bea read the telegram, which said simply:
“NEED YOUR PERMISSION STOP. MR BERNARD COBBLEHAUGH REQUESTED A BANKERS DRAFT THIS MORNING FOR ONE THOUSAND GUINEAS STOP TO BE MADE PAYABLE TO LONDON PLEASURE PALACE OF PAGAN SIN STOP THIS EXCEEDS YOUR PREVIOUSLY STIPULATED ALLOWANCE FOR YOUR HUSBAND STOP WILL YOU AUTHORISE STOP”
“Oh Grace! What will you do?”
“Oh, I can well afford the money, Bea. It’s just that he did promise. You know, after last time…”
Bea knew exactly what her friend meant. Bernard was not such a bad fellow. And astonishingly good looking and very charming with it. But his weaknesses for wine, women and song were well known. Especially for women….
Bea knew only too well what it was like to be the wife of a man like that. The constant worry; the checking of bills and bank statements. Her eyes filled up.
“Oh, Bea! How selfish I’ve been. Are you having trouble yourself…with Richard?”
“Yes, my darling. I do think that Dick and Bernard egg each other on, you know. Last night they stayed up smoking and drinking and gaming in our cottage. And the cards they were playing with had naked women on the backs.”
“Aren’t men awful! Always leering at women and trying to peep at them when they have no clothes on. I mean, how would they like it if it happened to them?”
“Yes, Grace, that might make them think again.”
Grace’s expression suddenly changed. A twinkle came into her eye. “Do you know, Bea, I think you’re right! Maybe we can teach those idle men a lesson!”
Fun on the River
The first day of July was sunny and bright. Just after lunch, a group of six people emerged from the holiday cottages along the riverside.
Two of group we have already met, Grace Cobblehaugh and Bea Hampton. Grace and Bea were with two other ladies, Violet Beating and Felicity Bishop.
The four chums had known each other for years. They did everything together. People said the four close friends were almost telepathic – certainly there seemed to be some unspoken understanding between them today. Every so often they smiled at each other, and mouthed some signal.
Maybe they were hatching a plot? If so, it probably revolved around the two large, good looking men standing in the cottage doorway, flirting with Polly the housemaid. Bernard Cobblehaugh and Richard Hampton, the husbands of Grace and Bea, were getting covert glances from the women. Glances of admiration? No, not entirely! But no matter, we shall see more of Dick and Bernard later. Much more of them.
Eventually the group collected by the river bank. Where Grace pointed to an old punt tied up in the mud.
“This old thing belongs to Mrs Cockwatch, the vicar’s wife. I promised I’d take it down the river into Bidford and return it to her. Bernard, it’s only a couple of miles. Why don’t you and Dick punt it along? I can steer. Bea, Felicity and Violet will walk along the river.”
“Certainly, my dear” returned her husband. “You up for it, Dick?”.
“Absolutely, old top. But dash it all, Mrs Cobblehaugh, it’s very muddy down here.”
“Yes, Grace, if we have to wade through all that mud, what about our clothes?” Bernard objected.
“Yes, good point, you are beautifully dressed, aren’t you? And it is a hot day. Why not take your clothes off?”
So the men started to take off their clothes. Top hats, frock coats, neck ties, waistcoats and fobs were removed.
Seeing them pause, Grace winked at her friends. And said “No, gentlemen, I meant ALL your clothes!”
“Very amusing, Grace! But seriously, darling, these trousers cost 200 guineas. I’m not going to wear them in this muddy river, but neither, I can assure you, will I take them off. Leastways, not in front of your friends and the servants!”
“Now, Bernard,” said Grace. “You are going to take off all your clothes, NOW. Because, darling, you do want your gambling debts paid, don’t you?”
“You too, Dick!” said Bea.
Bernard and Dick sat dejectedly on the river bank and eased off their boots and stockings.
“Ladies, really! I will go no further with this ridiculous project.” “And neither will I.”
“Bernard, there are also your debts at the wine shop to take into account”, Grace remarked.
“And, Dick,” added Bea “remember your part in that sordid affair which Mr Sherlock Holmes investigated last year…..!”
The men unwillingly continued. Shirts and trousers joined the pile on the river bank. Now clad only in their long johns, Bernard and Dick pleaded for mercy. “Ladies, this has gone far enough!”
“Gentlemen, this could be fun! The sun is shining, the river beckons! In any case, you do owe your long-suffering wives a great deal, don’t you? Bea and I could change all your fine living with a telegram…Now let’s go for a nice punt down to the village. And don’t you worry about your fine clothes, we’ll take care of them”
The reluctant strippers carried on. Finally Bernard and Dick were fully undressed. Not to put too fine a point on it, they were stark bollock naked.
The ladies looked at them appreciatively. The two men were quite different animals under their clothes. Bernard had a touch of the greyhound, with his long lean body, his athletic carriage and his low-slung testicles. Dick had more of the gorilla about him, with his hairy, muscular body, barrel chest and big ‘banana’. It was evident that both men took regular exercise. In their different ways, they were fine specimens of manhood.
There was quite a contrast between the white hard bodies of the men and their pink embarrassed faces. Both Bernard and Dick had penises worthy of note. But they cowered blushingly before the women, hands over their private parts. “Come on, gentlemen, that won’t do at all!” Grace laughed. “Hands by your sides! Chin up! Chest out! And perk those buttocks!”
With these inspiring words, Grace pointed to the river. Still no reaction from Bernard and Dick, who seemed to be acting dumb.
“Quick march, gentlemen, or I call out Polly to put your clothes on the furnace!” That seemed to be language which the men could understand, especially when Grace followed it up with an encouraging slap on their buttocks. So off they went.
The nude men stepped into the mud and dragged and pushed the heavy old boat towards the water. Their pale bottoms strained and wobbled. They struggled in the mud and heaved and pushed, and in the end they did manage to get the boat into quite deep water. Dick remained holding it, while Bernard returned for his dear wife. Bernard’s penis swung from side to side as he trudged unhappily back.
Grace leapt into Bernard’s arms and he reeled under the impact. Although a light and dainty woman, Grace proved quite a burden. She bounced and bucked in Bernard’s arms, often reaching down to smack his bum or tease his helpless cock. Staggering and gasping, he managed to reach the punt and push his playful wife into it.
Bernard leant, doubled up, over the boat. Sweat pouring down his crimson face. He was completely breathless. But Bernard was also bent over to try hiding his embarrassing and unwelcome erection. Unfortunately Grace’s naughty fingers had made his cock far too big to conceal! Also Bernard’s crouching and gasping posture made it look as if he was waggling his butt at the amused women on the bank.
In the meantime, Dick was also having problems ‘to the rear’. While Bernard had been plunging around in the nude, Dick had been trying to escape attention. Dick’s tactics were to hide himself behind the boat. So there he stood, with the water halfway up his thighs. Peeping round the side of the boat (albeit with his bare bottom exposed to the opposite riverbank), Dick felt pretty safe from the women’s scrutiny.
It was quite a good plan, but Dick had overlooked one thing, as he bent over behind the boat with his legs slightly apart. For Dick’s quivering, meaty backside presented a very tempting target for a flock of hungry ducks. One duck even had an exploratory peck at two ‘plums’ which it could see dangling between Dick’s upper thighs. Nip, nip went the dear little duck - owww, that hurt!
So, to the women’s great delight, Dick suddenly exploded into full-frontal view from round the side of the boat. Sadly for Dick’s ‘low profile’ hopes, it turned out to be quite a naked spectacular. For Dick was not just splashing, floundering and cursing. He was also kneading his sore bottom and balls in a way which left him wide open to lascivious speculation.
“Ah there you are, Dick!” said Grace. “Come on, man, stop being so disgusting, it’s time to go! Give Bernard a hand – he seems to have got winded flashing his bottom at my friends. Honestly, you men really have got one-track minds!” So, hopping and wincing, Dick gave his fellow sufferer a leg-up into the punt.
The ladies very much welcomed the gentlemen’s ‘openness’, as Bernard and Dick painfully crawled, naked and splay-legged, over the side of the punt. The twitching, muscular backsides of each man made a simply lovely arch. From which bollocks and cock dangled very fetchingly.
Everyone was keen to help Bernard and Dick along on their slippy-bottomed way. In the boat, Grace was particularly well placed to assist. So she showed her support by a good firm slap on both of the bare wet behinds which appeared before her. Bea, Felicity and Victoria had to content themselves with raucous cheers and whistles.
While Bernard and Dick are gathering their breath, it might be a good opportunity to describe them. And describe them through the eyes of their wives’ friends.
BERNARD COBBLEHAUGH (pronounced “Cobbler”). Bea, Violet and Felicity were delighted to see so much of Bernard!
Six foot one. Dark hair, brown eyes. Handsome clean-shaven face, normally very debonair but right now a little flushed and frowning. All that was public knowledge.
What the ladies now knew was that Bernard was white, slender and smooth to the touch. Not a muscleman, but strong, graceful and rippling. It was very pleasant watching Bernard move around in the nude. And seeing his sinews quiver like a big cat’s, from calves to thighs to buttocks.
From the waist up, Bernard sported a flat belly, broad chest and shoulders. The rear view gave you a narrow but solid backside and slim shanks.
For the connoisseurs of light and shade, Bernard offered a contrast of slim white body, hairy black pubes, large pale cock hanging slightly to the left, and pink shadowy scrotum containing two big juicy meat balls.
In the ladies’ opinion, Bernard was really cute, and he could romp naked in their garden any time.
DICK HAMPTON (what a highly appropriate name!). This man was a beast! Five foot eleven of solid beef and bone.
Jovial pink face (although a bit haggard right now), bright blue eyes. Curly fair hair. (Mind you, looking at Dick from head to toe, blond didn’t seem to be his natural hair colour).
Huge shoulders and arms; deep chest; muscular legs and a very fleshy arse – Dick was certainly all man. But it was only when seeing him in the raw that you got the essence of the male animal. ‘Essence’ being a ladylike way of saying “whopping great meaty bulging cock and balls”.
As far as the ladies were concerned, Dick was wasted as a stockbroker. He should be doing something elemental – maybe wrestling bears in the nude at London Zoo.
Anyway, when Bernard and Dick had sufficiently recovered, the naked men used punt poles and found the boat moved quite easily. Grace sat in her chair and sketched the hapless nudists. As they punted along wearing nothing but a frown, Bernard and Dick settled into a most embarrassing rhythm. “One two, one two!” - buttocks flexing in and out; testicles slapping against thighs; and cocks all a-wobble-o. Bea, Felicity and Victoria, convulsed with laughter, followed the boat along the tow path.
Grace had spread the word in the village, so quite a crowd of women had collected on the bridge. They found the performance vastly diverting. It was generally agreed that the naked men were doing everything possible to raise morale in the village.
In particular, there was one quite remarkable piece of nude comedy. This happened as the well-hung watermen approached the bridge…..
It all started when Bernard received a sharp blow in the balls from a branch springing back under his punt pole. Bernard threw down his pole angrily, roared up at the sky, arched his back, thrust forward his crotch and began tenderly massaging his private parts.
Watching from a distance, the ladies on the bank had not seen the whiplash to Bernard’s goolies. They simply saw what followed the ‘bollocking’. Which was a tall good-looking man with no clothes on, apparently playing with himself. It was certainly unusual behaviour, but maybe the gentleman was foreign. He certainly did have nice knees.
And so, on balance, the ladies felt that they should not condemn the strange man out of hand. More consideration was required. The village ladies therefore reacted courteously and with truly Christian forbearance. That is, they cheered, whistled, stamped, laughed, called out filthy invitations to Bernard and made rude gestures to him.
Back on the punt, it was now Dick’s turn to attract attention. Wincing at his partner’s distress, Dick lay down his pole and sat on the side of the boat. Due to Bernard’s ‘wanking’ movements, the boat was quite low in the water. So Dick’s bare bottom overhung the river by only a few inches. Which was an ideal height for Dick’s friend the duck, who had been waiting its opportunity.
The duck moved closer to Dick’s juicy white posterior, almost visibly salivating. The ladies on the bank saw Dick’s danger, and called out “it’s behind you!” But Dick didn’t hear the words clearly. He just assumed that the ladies were inviting him to stand up like Bernard and wave his cock obscenely at them. (As if they could possibly have been so crude!) So Dick simply slumped down further over the far side of the boat.
Dick’s naked brawny backside was now almost touching the water. It was wiggling most invitingly, as the boat rolled up and down. And in a very exciting development as far as the duck was concerned, Dick’s meaty cock and succulent balls were now in full view. Absolutely maddened with delight, the duck moved in…..
[I draw a veil, gentle reader, over the next couple of seconds.]
Suffice to say that, in the ensuing fracas, Dick leapt to his feet, bellowing with rage, balls bouncing and penis whirling.
What an entrance! The river bank watchers were absolutely entranced by the demented naked man! He looked so lively, and was dancing in such an abandoned way. Opinion was divided as to whether his fine juicy cock was swollen with passion, or whether it was just the effect of a duck bite. But nobody wanted to split (pubic) hairs at a time like this! So the village ladies just carried on enjoying the show.
The next instalment of which proved quite spectacular….
For while Dick was grabbing the limelight, Bernard had been slowly gathering his wits. As his head cleared, Bernard decided that the great thing was that he still had his balls. (There were about fifty women nearby who could have told him that). Less favourably for Bernard, he was naked down to his hairy ‘cobblehaughs’, and sex pests were thronging both river banks. Could things possibly get any worse? Actually, they could….
Because at this point, the duck played a part. Excited by its success, it had quietly boarded the boat. And found - not one yummy bottom on offer, but two! Rapidly deciding on Bernard as the choicest morsel (Bernard’s low-slung testicles proving an added attraction), the duck hurried over for a nibble.
Grace rushed to defend her man. She picked up the punt pole and struck out at the duck, driving it away. Unfortunately, though, the pole’s follow-through arc was between Bernard’s legs, and then sharply upwards. “Ouch!” said the crowd.
So Bernard’s situation was now similar to that of Dick.
Which is a gentle Victorian novelist way of saying that the two stark-naked men were hopping and skipping on the edge of the punt; bawling rude words; and shaking their fists with impotent fury. They were especially frantic below the waist. Here Bernard and Dick’s swollen beefy dicks were simply bursting out of their foreskins. How furiously their cocks thrashed around on top of the bouncing, bulging knackersacks! It was a bollock-throbbing riot.
Which now reached a new level of madness. Because across the boat the weight of nude flesh and tingling genitalia had become very unevenly spread. And so the punt started to tip. Their buttocks tensing with panic, Bernard and Dick began to teeter on the edge of the boat.
Grace reached out to rescue the naked landlubbers, whose very scrotums had become goose-pimpled with fear. Grace made a grab, and got hold of Bernard. Who wobbled, tipped and finally balanced!
The ladies were moved to applaud a most spectacular rescue. Not even the oldest inhabitant of the village could ever remember quite such an eye-catching feat. For in the emergency, Grace had been forced to grab anything of Bernard’s which she could. And this just happened to be Bernard’s penis. For many years afterwards, the village ladies told of how the handsome stranger’s donkey dick had thickened, stiffened and finally proved to be a very big handful.
Such was her relief, that Grace didn’t want to let go of her rescued man. She absent-mindedly kept hold of Bernard’s cock for some minutes, moving her grip up and down its impressive length. For his part, Bernard simply thrust his hips backwards and forwards with a big sloppy grin on his face. His ‘cobblehaughs’ seemed to have survived the ordeal. Indeed they looked quite healthy as they banged to and fro between their owner’s thighs.
But although Bernard was chuffed to his bollocks, Dick was less fortunate. (Grace, remember, had not been able to save him.) So Dick had started to fall. He had no fear of drowning in two feet of water, but his pubes were standing on end at the thought of the ducks.
Happily, though, for Dick, the boat had veered off course. It was now under a weeping willow very close to the bank. As Dick lost his footing on the boat, he was plucked up within the tree branches. Saved!
But Dick’s relief was shortlived, because he found himself wedged in the tree. His feet were a few inches from the ground, but more importantly his private parts were at eye level. And there Dick dangled, while a large crowd of ladies gathered underneath him.
Dick could not see what was going on, but he could feel a number of prods around his torso, buttocks, balls and thighs. Someone made the comment “would win a prize at the County Fair!” which seemed to cause much giggling and whispering.
“Will somebody please let me down?” called the desperate nude captive.
And sure enough, Dick was finally put out his naked misery. Suddenly he felt the assault of several busy hands, rubbing and tweaking away at his cock and balls. He felt himself pulled down from the tree and deposited (complete with throbbing erection) back in the punt.
Dick blinked and his eyes became used to the sunlight after the darkness of the tree. He realised he was standing in the punt, facing a large crowd of smiling women. Unfortunately he was still naked. But there was one change. A blue “Best In Show” ribbon had been tied around his huge straining cock….
Among the crowd was the President of the local Women’s Institute. She had been just as enthralled as anyone by all this naked slapstick. As the ‘show’ ended, and the nude gondoliers got a grip once again on their great big poles, she made a note. “Next visit from the circus in September. Women’s Institute special show? Naked clowns??”
The journey did not last much longer, for the weir was near the bridge. So the crowd was then entertained with the spectacle of the two naked men wading into the water and mud and struggling to open it and drag the boat through.
This proved a difficult task. Bernard and Dick strained every sinew most gallantly with the gate. Sweat trickled down their spines and between their buttocks, and matted their pubic hair. Biceps bulged; testicles tightened and bottoms clenched. Slowly, slowly, the gate started to give. Then suddenly it sprang open.
How the crowd cheered and shouted and pointed! Not so much, however, because the gate had been opened. But because the two nude stooges, taken unawares by the sudden opening, had collapsed into the mud. Bernard and Dick therefore found themselves on all fours, and bottoms ahoy. They spat out the river mud; and checked the situation. Yet more painful blows to knees, funny bones, bollocks and cock.
One crumb of comfort for Bernard and Dick was that they were so bedaubed by mud that their nudity was now partially covered.
Also they recognised that the journey was nearly over. Bernard only had to carry Grace across the mud to the river bank, while Dick waded behind with her bag and parasol. Surely then their naked ordeal would be over? And they could get dressed? Realising that the fun was drawing to an end, the crowd of laughing women started to disperse.
But Grace was not finished yet. Shaking with silent laughter, she composed herself, and put on a stern expression. “Gentlemen, really! You are quite revoltingly dirty. I refuse to submit myself and my belongings to your filthy hands. You must clean yourselves up!” And, smiling at the crowd of women, Gaynor added: “A SHOWER!”
This suggestion had an electric effect. The general mood became even more festive and jolly (were that possible!). Broad grins, loud laughter and bonnets flung into the air. Several women hurried off to nearby houses to fetch the necessary equipment. There was a real feeling of holiday bustle in the air.
Indeed there were only two people present who did not share in the general excitement – our two naked and flustered heroes.
Bernard and Dick looked most uneasily at the arrangements being made for them. Taking up their allotted position on a patch of grass under the bridge, the two luckless nudists feared the worst. And as they looked on, their hearts sank, their bollocks trembled, their buttocks clenched and the muddy hairs round their privates twitched apprehensively.
Above their heads a vast collection of washtubs and chamber pots was being assembled. Each receptacle was filled to the brim from the town pump, and placed carefully on the wall of the bridge.
Most alarmingly, one lady had just returned from the village ice factory. Her giggling friends helped her to chip off a generous lump to float in each pot and tub. Cries of “refreshing!”, “delightful!”, “so bracing!” and “what a treat!” floated down to the two nude ‘beneficiaries’.
In fairness though, despite all the activity, the village ladies still took the time to be friendly to Bernard and Dick. Despite the muddy state of the two naked men, they were certainly not shunned. For example, Bernard and Dick received many a comforting slap on the bottom.
And one simple country lady kept saying to Bernard “pinch me, I’m dreaming!” (Not receiving a very positive response from the glum nudist, she illustrated her point by firmly pinching Bernard, on his cock.)
Dick too found himself well entertained. One lady tried to describe to him the new game of Real Tennis. Not having a racquet to hand, she grabbed Dick’s penis in order to demonstrate the different types of grip. Luckily she was called away before getting on to the hitting of balls.
“Ready, gentlemen?” Gaynor enquired. (Patently they were not ready and never would be, so she hurried on.) “What could be nicer on a hot sticky day than a cool shower? Now ladies, at the count of three….”
“ONE!” (Bernard’s cock shrivelled, while his balls dangled mournfully in their sack)
“TWO!” (“even having that duck stick its bill up my ass was better than this!” thought Dick)
And with that command, a mighty avalanche of freezing cold water fell on the two indignant naked gentlemen.
The women were delighted and fascinated by the effect which a waterfall has on the Male Nude. It was rather like seeing an angry tom cat. Both Bernard and Dick seemed to grow. They rose on the balls of their feet; their hair stood up; their mouths opened in shock and fury; their buttocks flared; their fists clenched; their scrotums tightened; their backs arched; their muscles rippled; the mud sloughed off and the white skin glistened with water.
But many of these details went unremarked. The really eye-catching feature was the galvanising effect on each penis. Bernard and Dick no longer resembled a greyhound, gorilla, or whatever. The cocks of both men now suggested the rhinoceros. Each naked man now sported one huge angry sausage bone throbbing urgently against the belly button. The whole thing looked about to blow. The village women found it very wild and rugged and romantic and thrilling.
And then the spell was broken. As the waters subsided, the effect became comical again. Two good-looking naked men; fuming; soaked to the skin; hopping and cursing; cupping their balls; goose-pimpled bottoms all a-quiver. Even their once-mighty penises were just flopping about now, more like baby elephant trunks than rhino horns. Everything about them was now clean, but decidedly not decent.
Grace seized the initiative. “That’s better, gentlemen!” she said. “Now the fun’s nearly over, so let’s get you dry before you catch your death. Do we have any towels, ladies?”
“Oh dear no”, they all chorused, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. “Not one to be had.”
“What a shame!” Grace said. “Never mind, you two do look very fit. A brisk run round the field will dry you off. What larks! It’ll be like Sports Day.”
And so the final lap began. In keeping with the Sports Day theme, it was decided that Bernard and Chris would do a ‘Three Legged’ run. Gaynor and Bea carefully bound Dick’s left leg to Bernard’s right leg at the upper thigh.
History does not record whether the ladies allowed their hands to wander while they did this delicate and detailed task. But it is certainly true that Bernard and Dick sported embarrassingly large erections as they took the field.
The naked men began their ‘brisk run’. Actually, it was more of a penis-pumping stumble round the field. Bottoms a go-go and balls swinging madly. With a steady beat, caused by their boners slapping firmly against their muscular bellies.
The spectators crowded round the track, making it something of a run-the-gauntlet event. At almost every stride, the naked men were spurred on by an encouraging slap or pinch.
Finally the fun was over, and the two gallant nudes paused for breath.
“Time to get you dressed!” said Grace. “Now, Bea, have you got their clothes? No? Felicity? Victoria? Oh dear, how forgetful! We must have left them behind. Ah well, gentlemen, the river’s the quickest way home. If you two wade off, we’ll follow on tonight.”
And so the naked ‘three legged’ pair went down to the river again. Bernard and Dick went in up to their thighs and started to trudge home. The women crowded on the bridge to wave them off.
It was very pleasant to see the two white, juicy, lean, delicious, naked bottoms bobbing along just above water level. And how everyone laughed when Chris’s old friends the ducks came out from under the bridge! The ducks had built up a real liking for buttock! And even more so, the pink dangly ‘plums’ which could always be found nestling nearby the round white meat.
Encumbered by their ‘three legged’ race gear, the nude and hapless pair could not move fast. But Bernard and Dick now knew how hard a duck could bite, so off they floundered as best they could. Elbows pumping, bottoms wobbling and balls unhappily bouncing, it was an undignified final curtain for the naked playboys. [Author’s note: This is not pornography – it is a very moral tale. So you can take it that Bernard and Dick were now sincerely repentant of their past sins!]
The ducks pursued the vulnerable nudists, hungrily nipping at their ‘delicacies’. The last thing the ladies heard from the wobbly-bummed waders was an angry howl. “Sounds like that duck’s found a plum!” someone said.
When the ladies stopped laughing, Grace made a discovery. “Silly me! I had the men’s clothes all along. Oh, and here’s Bernard’s front door key. Ah well, I’ll guess we’ll see them back here in an hour – maybe we could think up a little nude challenge for them? Anyway, let’s get indoors everyone, it’s starting to rain….”
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Posted by ATCFNM at 7:11 PM