Author's Note: Stories on this site may contains fiction of an adult nature. They may contain themes involving Incest, under age sex, rape, bestiality, drugs or alcohol abuse. If these subjects make you uncomfortable please exit now. The stories are meant for the entertainment of adults as defined by your local government or society, if you are below this age please exit now. The author does not condone or encourage anyone to act in real life the way the characters depicted in this story act.

Doomed to End in Divorce
by Isabella

Story Code: M/F, exhibitionism, voyeurism, Public sex. Naturism, Intergenerational

I left school on my sixteenth birthday, it was illegal, of course it was but my predicted grades were all C or lower, so I didn't see the point in stopping on at school for another six months and going through all the stress of six exams, then leaving school on the same day as two hundred other kids of my age, many with far better qualifications, I'd rather be in a pack of one hunting for work.

I didn't hang about, I told my parents that I was dropping out of school and my father had three job interviews lined up for me the very next day, now, there is something weird about adults that I swear I'll never understand even if I live to be eighteen, four days earlier, I was going to a party, my dad gave me the usual speech, "You can't go out of the house in that short skirt, you look like a tramp with make-up on at your age, that top is far too revealing!" That was the usual string of comments almost every time I went out, now, because I was going for a job interview, dressed very conservatively, I got a totally different speech, "You should wear that nice blue skirt, shows off your lovely legs, you could at least put on a little eye shadow, lipstick, blusher. You have a much nicer top; the one you were wearing last Friday would be perfect for an interview!"

Anyway, I went out for a week to interviews dressed the way I wanted too, very conservatively, projecting a very adult attitude and exterior, I had thought that I would be snapped up by the first company that I went to see, after fifteen rejections, I was becoming demoralised, and worse, much worse, I was getting more bored by not being at school than I ever was while I was at school.

My dad fixed me up with another interview, one of his old school friends worked for a hire and sales company, specialising in the requirements of the farming industry. It was a family business, almost everyone working there were related to the owners. The job wasn't permanent, it was boring but I dressed the way my father told me too and I was told to start the following week.

On my first day, I was shown how the filing system worked, I was given a map of the offices, warehouse and garage complex, the name of all the staff and where to deliver their mail too and I was shown where and how they liked their tea and coffee to be made. So, my job, my life for the next six months at least, hot drinks three times a day, deliver the post, file everything that was dumped in my in-tray, frank all the outgoing post and drop it off at the post office on my way home.

I didn't meet the owners grandson Simon until the Wednesday, he was typical salesman, all show and no depth, he was thirty two, single, tall and good looking, I saw through all the superficiality and shallowness in a shot, it took him until Friday to get me to agree to go out with him. It took him a week to talk me into bed with him and although I didn't know it at the time, it took him just a further week to cure me of that little bleeding problem I got every twenty-eight days too.

Everyone in the place knew that I was going out with Simon, one of the problems of working in a family office, they were all so open with each other, no one ever seemed to keep any secrets from each other. It was actually Simon's mother who realised I was pregnant, I had been sick at work two mornings on the trot, on the third, as I was puking up in the bathroom she came in, handed me a 'pee-stick', three minutes later it was clearly blue!

Simon and I were married on my seventeenth birthday; he was, to say the least, shell shocked by his parent's reaction to the news that I was pregnant and the speed with which they had us marching down the aisle. I didn't look too good on the wedding photos though, I was six months pregnant and it looked like I was trying to smuggle a beach ball out of the church under my wedding dress.

I didn't have the pleasure of giving birth three months later as I had expected, during our honeymoon in Jamaica, I contracted a water born virus that didn't show its presence immediately and by the time my doctors realised I was infected it had caused too much damage to the unborn foetus and my fallopian tubes, there was no trace of foetal heartbeat so I was induced in hospital and the baby was stillborn.

It was crazy that the birth had to be registered and crazy that we had to go through a kind of christening and funeral on the same day. It was a lot for me to handle back then, it changed me, Simon was changed too, he had never really loved me, his mother had forced him to marry me as a kind of punishment for his philandering ways and since I was barren, his mother eventually relented and agreed that he could divorce me, but not until we had gone through six years of trying for another child, hospital tests and fertility treatments.

I never worked again after I married Simon, well, I didn't have to work as Simon's wife, his family were very well off and we lived in a cottage on the family farm. After the divorce I discovered that Simon wasn't well off, his mother cleverly kept the families financiers very tightly controlled, on paper, Simon didn't have a bean to his name, so my half of his estate was the same nonexistent bean.

The family did set me up in a little flat as a leaving present; the flat was rent free and would remain so until I remarried, if I ever remarried! I didn't go out looking for anyone, in fact, I decided to finish my education, busy myself in study instead of living, so that was where I found myself on my twenty-fourth birthday. I had just passed my General Certificate of Secondary Education in Maths and English. I got the results late in June, I was so pleased with myself that that I actually went out for a meal, a lunchtime treat with one of my few remaining friends.

The restaurant was jammed to the rafters; I had taken a last minute cancellation, a table for four for just my friend and myself. We had ordered our starters and mains and a bottle of White Zinfandel but before they arrived I spotted Simon's grandfather and another man talking to the matradee, there was a lot of head shaking and negative gestures from the matradee, I saw him look at his watch several times, I had already been told that there would be no tables available all afternoon when I had arrived at the exact moment that a customer phoned in to cancel their booking and rebook for the following week, so I guessed that Ron wouldn't have any joy, no matter how rich and well known he was.

Ron spotted me and Jenifer sitting at a table for four and was about to march over to our table but he was stopped in his tracks, the matradee came over to our table and said, "I'm so sorry to disturb you madam but the gentleman at the door claims to be your grandfather!" He was actually speaking to Jenifer who looked totally shocked. I did feel that Simon's family had treated me a little shabbily because of my fertility problems but Ron had never done anything against me, so I nodded my head, "My grandfather!" "Would it be possible for your grandfather and his friend to share your table?" I looked at Jenifer, if I were honest, she looked like she was relieved to have someone else to talk too, we had only been together for ten minutes and already she was struggling to find things to talk to me about.

It was funny, I had been married to Simon for six years but had never actually spoken to his grandfather, when I worked for him, I had called him Mr. Clark but I doubted that he would even remember my name, so I was surprised when he introduced his friend to us, he knew that I was Victoria, he even knew Jenifer's name, well, both her maiden name and her married name. I was a little uncomfortable, I had no idea what to call him, it would sound odd if I called him Mr Clark, and even odder if I called him grandpa or similar, so, I eventually settled for Ron.

Jenifer perked up a lot with two new people to chat too, Ron was very flirtatious, Jenifer loved the attention too, Ron's friend was Bill, it was actually a business lunch, Ron was going to sell Bill a combined harvester, Bill had to buy one, Ron was the closest supplier to Bill's farm so it made sense that Bill bought from Ron, but Bill really needed a good discount on the price that Ron didn't really want to give him but having said all of that, Ron and Bill didn't actually talk business at all, Bill was flirting with me, Ron with Jenifer.

I actually noticed at least twice that Ron had grown an erection and was struggling to get comfortable in his seat. Ron looked crestfallen when Jenifer had to go back to work, Bill asked me if I had to go too, I shook my head and Ron jumped in, "She's a lady of leisure at the moment, aren't you Vicky?" I just nodded my head, Ron paid the bill for all of us even though I objected, I had invited Jenifer out to lunch and wanted to pay my way, even though I couldn't really afford it.

We sat drinking wine and then coffee until they threw us out of the restaurant, I was expecting to go home alone but Ron invited himself and Bill to join me, I made them both coffee, I had already had far too much to drink, especially on the wine front and while the two men sat in my living room, discussing discounts and extras, I sat and slowly went to sleep.

I woke to the feeling of lips against my lips and a hand inside my bra, Bill was at my side and Ron was in the bathroom, Bill pulled me to my feet and through into my bedroom, I tried, unsuccessfully, to fight Bill off, he wasn't a very good fuck but he was the first in a very long time to show me any love or affection, of any kind and eventually I allowed Bill to lift my skirt, pull my knickers to one side and climb on top.

Bill was a very clumsy lover, didn't do anything to set my pulse racing but he was fortunately a fast climax, so no matter how boring he actually was, he finished off fast. As Bill backed away, zipping the front of his trousers closed I spotted Ron standing in the doorway smiling down at me.

Both men left my flat before I had to go out and face them, so I just pulled my duvet over me and went to sleep fully dressed, I slept through to the morning an when I woke up, it felt like a wombat had slept in my mouth all night.

The first thing I thought was what on earth would Simon's Grandfather think of me, then what the hell did Bill think of me, what did he think I was, but then, I hadn't put up much of a fight had I, I couldn't put my hand on my heart and say that I left Bill in no doubt that I wasn't that kind of woman, but as I didn't fight more, perhaps I was, deep down inside.

I was still hung over at lunch time, I was in the shower, hoping to wash away a little of the woolliness in my head when my front door was knocked. Ron Clark stood there with a huge grin on his face, "I owe you a share of my commission for the harvester sale!" Ron was looking at my upper chest, exposed over the top of my towelling dressing gown that I had put on in a hurry to answer the door, "No, I didn't do anything!" I said as I tried to close my front door on Ron while also trying to close the top of my dressing gown up to my neck. His foot stopped the door closing and even though he was almost as old as God, he managed to push the door and me aside and strolled in to my flat.

"What have you got planned for the holidays?" "Nothing, every day is a holiday for me!" "Well, how would you like a fortnight in the South of France?" "I can't afford it!" "On me, what have you got to lose?"

Ron had backed me into a corner of the room, when I couldn't back away from him any further, he reached out his hand and began to caress the side of my face, "I didn't want to let Bill have you yesterday, I wanted to fuck you first, but business is business, and your body got me the full price for my old wreck of a harvester!" I tried to shake Ron's hand off of my cheek and tried to dodge his lips too but for an old man he was very persistent and managed to achieve 'lip lock' with me.

"You didn't seem to enjoy old Bill's efforts yesterday, I need to make it up to you for that as well as a little financial reward for greasing the wheels of commerce, with your lovely little ginger cunt yesterday!" "I was drunk.." I tried to push Ron's hands away, he was trying to pull the front of my dressing gown open, he had a good idea that I was totally naked underneath. "..And I'm not proud of myself for not fighting harder to stop him!"

"Don't be like that, I'm a hell of a lot more fun that Bill!" Ron kissed me again and managed to expose my left breast, as he stepped back to look at my now naked breast, I managed to duck out from under his arm and make my escape into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I was panting as I hit the door with my back to ensure that the lock would hold, I was panting, but strangely, not from running the twenty feet to my bathroom, I was gasping for air because I was so turned on by what had just happened. Perhaps I really was that kind of woman!

I waited in the bathroom until I was sure that Ron had left my flat, I wandered out into my living room tentatively, ready to flee back into the bathroom if Ron was playing possum. I cracked a beer and sat in total confusion as I drank, I really shouldn't have drank on top of my hangover, especially not beer on top of wine, the age old saying, 'A drinker mixing grape and grain will surely end up driven insane!' I needed to work out a new saying, something about grape and hops leading to projectile vomiting!

My confusion centred around Ron, and if he wanted to do to me, what he had said he wanted to do to me, why did he leave so quickly, why didn't he put up a fight to get at me. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of Ron fucking me, Bill's fuck had counted for nothing, I was drunk and Bill was just trying to shoot off as quickly as he could before I came to my senses and did the bucking bronco impersonation to throw him off of me but it had seemed that Ron didn't just want to empty his balls into me, he wanted to see my body too.

Then it dawned on me that Ron might be just like Simon, Simon put tons of effort into getting a girl into bed, and I do say girl, not woman, he was less interested in me, my personality or my looks, all he saw was the size of my body. At sixteen and a few days old I actually looked a lot younger, I had been a keen swimmer until I left school so my body's development had been put on hold, my hips were still narrow and my breasts flat, within weeks of stopping my swimming training, I had started my periods for the first time and was just starting to build subcutaneous fat layers, that would convert in no time into breasts.

Simon had been prepared to walk on hot coals to get me into bed but as soon as he had 'planted his flag' he had lost interest. Simon was my first and at sixteen I didn't realise that there was more to sex for a girl than a man climbing on top, grunting for twenty seconds, rolling off and kissing you good night. And as pregnancy caused my body to grow at an accelerated rate, Simon's interest decreased. By the time of the honeymoon I may as well have gone to a different island to him for all the good it did me. When I saw Simon paying the kind of attention to thirteen and fourteen year old girls on the beach as he had shown to me when we first met, I irrationally took my frustrations to the sea, I thought that I could get my body shape and my husband back if I pushed myself to train as if I was back in competitive swimming.

Swimming in the sea was nothing like swimming in a pool and the extra forces and the impurities in the sea around Jamaica were what opened me up to the infection that terminated my pregnancy. Perhaps Ron was like Simon, not in the young angle but in the not putting too much effort into sex.

After I was sure that I had finished throwing up, I brushed my teeth and as I walked past my front door, still naked but for my dressing gown, I noticed an envelope on my door mat. A ticket for the Eurostar, London to Paris,, and a rail ticket connecting me from Corby to London and a third for Paris to Montpellier on the overnight sleeper train and then on to Agde on the local hopper train. There was a note, a 'ring this number when you arrive in Agde to be picked up' kind of thing.

I threw the envelope and its content into the bin, a free holiday was one thing but the South of France was notoriously expensive, if I had the kind of money for a fortnight's food and drink in the South of France I could afford a cruise on a luxury liner all inclusive.

I was at that point, do I get dressed and go out for a walk or do I put my nighty on and watch TV until bedtime, I had been undressed apart from my dressing gown all day, at six o'clock my phone rang, it was Ron, that shocked me, I was ex-directory, so he must have looked for my phone and taken down the number before he left that morning.

OK, the holiday was back on again, all my food and alcohol would be provided for me, all I needed was a little spending money and Ron had promised me three hundred Euros for letting Bill hump me the day before. Ron was very earthy when he spoke to me, not a bit how he had been at work when all of his family were around him.

It wasn't like I had anything better to do anyway, I had finished my education for the time being, it was eight weeks until I started on my advanced level studies so if I closed my flat up for two weeks it would just save me money on water, electricity and gas costs. I had to take out insurance for my trip, just in case, I took my tickets into the insurance broker, the agent checked my tickets, "These are all open ended, you leave on Monday but there is no return date!" The difference in cost of two weeks holiday insurance to one country in Europe and four weeks was only five pounds, so I opted for the month, just in case.

The journey to Agde was very relaxing, well it was as soon as I got to Paris, the first two trains were very full, the sleeper had quite a few empty spaces and the train from Montpellier to Agde was empty except for me.

At Agde station I phoned the number and Ron answered the phone. I was picked up in an old Citron D-five, a classic French car; Ron wore no shirt and very thin cotton shorts, no socks and canvas Espadrilles, when Ron heaved my luggage into the car's boot I could tell that he had no underpants on.

As Ron drove me to his villa, he chatted idly about how hot it had been all week, how nice it was to see me, then he dropped a little bombshell, "I do hope that you aren't shy!" I waited a moment while the shivering in my spine slowed down a little before responded, "Why?" "Well, you didn't seem to mind very much when I was watching Bill reaming you out last week!" "I was drunk, that was all a big mistake!" "Oh my God, I do hope you don't go all shy on me, I've been looking forward to this all week!" "So, why do you hope I'm not shy?" "Wwwweeeeeeeeeelllllllll! My villa is in an enclosed community, didn't you Google Agde or Cap d'Agde?" "I can't afford the internet at home!"

I could have added, 'Because your family conned me out of any chance of alimony!' but I didn't, not the best way to start a holiday. "I'll let it be a pleasant surprise for you then!" Ron smiled as he said that, as he changed gear, he rested his right hand on my upper thigh, "Aren't you hot with all those clothes on?" I shook my head, the train had been well air-conditioned and as I got closer to the hills surrounding Agde it had become quite overcast.

We drove past a row of thirty or forty tennis courts, that was in an enclosed community, I looked over at Ron, he looked fit, especially for his age, but not fit enough to be on a tennis holiday. We drove past the gatehouse for the tennis village and on towards the sea, as we drove the clouds thinned out, we turned onto a track with a large dirt car park on the left hand side, the enclosure fence was to the right, I could see the sand dunes so it had to be the place we were heading for as there could be very little further on.

The barrier lifted at Ron's approach but Ron was flagged down when the guard spotted he had a passenger in the car. "I'll need your passport!" I didn't understand any French but fortunately neither did Ron, he stumbled through trying to explain that I was a family member, when he opened my passport and the guard noted down that my name was Victoria Clark he was happy, he took my photograph with a digital camera, the guard turned the camera to show me the picture of my face and asked me to pose again, my face in the first picture had looked like I had just received an electric shock, the reason for that look had been caused by Ron dropping his shorts and standing up totally naked. I was asked to get out of the car and the guard stood me in front of a white wall, then he took my photograph again, he was talking to Ron about 'Minimals' , Ron came over to me and asked me to strip off or at least down to my knickers and bra, "It's one of the few rules here, you can wear bikini bottoms if you're on your period but inside the walls you are supposed to be naked or wearing 'Minimals' but you always have to be naked in the pools!"

I looked beyond Ron, there was a petrol station fifty yards away, a man had just stepped out of his car, he was totally naked and he was filling his car with petrol, "Where the hell does he keep his money?" Slipped out under my breath, "In the Tam-tam around the neck usually!" A man, also totally naked stepped out of the guard's office, he was very French but spoke very good English, I looked over at his face because he had spoken to me but my eyes soon slipped further South, I couldn't stop my eyebrows lifting in surprise at the elephant's trunk that seemed to be growing between his legs.

Ron whispered, that's Michael Oultra, he's the lettings manager and a cousin of the family that own this complex, I can invite him over to dinner one night if you like!" I blushed, I found myself comparing Michael's cock with Ron's and the picture in my mind of Simon's cock and even Bill's, Ron had a good sized cock compared to Simon and Bill but he was only half the man that Michael was.

"You have to strip down to at least your knickers or they won't let me bring you in!" I felt my face colouring up, "I'm only wearing a thong under this dress!" "That's fine, they'd prefer it if you were totally naked anyway!" "Is there a changing room?" Ron laughed at my question, "Look around, the guard is the only one dressed, and that is because he might have to go outside the wall!" Ron pulled me to one side as the service buss pulled up to the gate, eight people got off, two men, a woman and five children, they all stripped naked as they walked towards the gate. "See, everyone is going to be naked from here on in, don't be shy!"

It had come as somewhat of a shock to me, like the rushing wind in a hurricane, I unfastened the first button on my dress and Ron took over and finished unfastening enough buttons so that he could push my dress off over my shoulders. I noticed one of the young boys give me a funny look and he nudged his sister so that she could look at me too. Then I realised that outside the whole family had been dressed ultra conservatively, the females had all worn full sided, white knickers, as soon as they stepped through the gate they rolled their knickers down. Then I spotted another difference, I was wearing a skimpy thong with a frill of ginger hair sticking out all around the thin material, the older woman and the younger girls were all bare, 'Sans-pubis' as the local would say.

I stepped out of my thong too and threw my dress and knickers on the back seat of the Citroen. As Ron drove around to his Villa, I noticed that I was the only female on the site who had pubic hair and very probably the only one with tufts of ginger under my arms too.

Ron took my luggage into his villa, the entrance faced out into the complex and as we walked through to the huge living room, the beach was literally three feet from the patio. Ron lifted the catch on a wall of glass and it opened in the form of bi-fold doors taking the whole wall away so that the living room was right on the beach, not a secluded beach either, there were easily three thousand people right in front of Ron's patio.

Ron closed the doors over again, "I'll dump your bags in the bedroom and then we'll go out for lunch in Bar Oultra, that will get you use to walking around the place in the nude!" Ron handed me a small towel with the picture of a huge arse printed on it. I looked at the towel strangely. It was so small that it would be useless even as a hand towel, I looked at Ron, he had exactly the same towel in his hands. "Never sit on anything out here without this under your bum!"

The restaurant was typically French; it took them three hours to serve a simple meal but I got to watch the world go by while sitting in the nude and trying to hide my ginger powder puff from the rest of the world. After lunch Ron took me for a stroll along the beach, well, a route march rather than a stroll, the naturist beach was almost three miles long, Ron had thoughtfully given me a bottle of factor fifty sun oil to protect my fair skin from the powerful Mediterranean sun.

We walked up by the dunes, taking advantage of what little shade the tall sand hills offered from the afternoon sun. About a mile and a half from Ron's Villa I heard a Whippoorwill calling from high in the dunes, Ron stopped me and listened, the bird called again, Ron scanned the face of the dune, "Over here, it came from this way!"

Nude mountaineering wasn't on my list of preferred sports but I followed Ron up the side of the hill, I found it difficult to believe that Ron would be interested in looking at a Whippoorwill, he didn't strike me as a 'Twitcher' or nature lover, he hadn't struck me as a naturist either but his perfect all over tan, told me that he had been one for many years.

We crested the hill and just beyond the ridge line Ron pulled me down on to my knees. We were behind a low stand of gorse, a few feet the other side of the gorse was a deep depression, a row of four men squatted in the sand and just beyond them a young couple were lying out on a large beach towel. Apart from the fact that six people were watching the couple, nothing looked particularly unusual, the man was rubbing sun oil into the woman's body, the two of them seemed totally unaware of their four man open audience and two hidden voyeurs.

It took me a while to realise that the woman had her hand on the man's cock, as he rubbed oil into her breasts, she was masturbating him slowly. They were in no hurry to get anywhere, the man spent well over thirty minutes massaging oil into every nook and cranny of the woman's body before he started to work oil into her pussy, he brought her off several times before she curled up over him and started to suck his cock.

The four men were all slowly massaging their own cocks as they watched, Ron was easing his hands between my legs and when the woman lifted her leg and straddled the man, easing his cock into her cunt Ron slid two fingers into my cunt. Ron matched my climax with the woman as she was fucking her man, she was a good deal louder than I was fortunately, she was a true exhibitionist, being watched seemed to be a bigger turn on for her than the simple act of fucking.

Ron seemed to know exactly when to stop masturbating me and pull me to my feet, we slipped over the edge of the dunes again and down onto the beach. Ron took me to the end of the naturist area; a sign denoted the area where clothes need not be worn. We had walked along over two miles of pristine sand, it had been raked along its entire length and there wasn't a scrap of litter to be seen anywhere. The other side of the sign was Marseillan Plage, there was almost a line drawn in the sand, on one side, naked people, the other side, a thousand tons of litter.

Ron led me back to the main complex and it was dark and getting quite cool by the time we got back to Ron's villa, I had expected the beach to be empty by the time we got back but there was still a lot of foot traffic milling about. As we walked past groups of men they would whistle, a low, almost yelping whistle, and occasionally there would be the Whippoorwill sound coming from the dunes and if there were men about when the bird call was made the men all ran in the direction of the bird. One man running past us even stopped an asked if we were going, Ron looked at me, then he said, "Too dangerous at this time of night for me up in the dunes!"

Ron took me into his villa, "We'll 'dress' for dinner!" I went for my larger case, Ron stopped me, "I doubt you'll have anything suitable in there!" Ron took me over to a wardrobe, he opened the door, one side had Ron's clothes in it, the other side was an external storage area for Victoria Secrets, their play suit collection.

Wait a minute, back track slightly, the bedroom with my bags in it had Ron's clothes in it, I wandered off and found that the Villa was huge but with only one bedroom, the bed in the lone bedroom was large enough for a whole family though.

Ron encouraged me to wear a see through cat suit, no bra or knickers on under it, the suit was white and my nipples and ginger bush were very clearly on display, Ron wore black tailored shorts and an open necked silk shirt with black leather sandals on his feet. I was definitely 'on display' all evening. In the restaurant all of the other women were dressed very conservatively; we could have been at any holiday resort in the South of France, rather than a naturist one.

We ate in relative privacy, the way I had been dressed had made the conservative diners steer clear of us, which, from my limited experience of the resort seemed unusual, at lunch, at least forty people chatted to us at the table, but that was when we were all naked, now, the way we dressed seemed to put us in a different pigeon hole. People seemed to be congregating by conventional rules as dictated by the way people were dressed. The restaurant seemed to slowly stratify according to social status, or should I say dress directed status.

After dinner Ron took me to The Alternative Club, most people headed to that club after dinner and so were fully dressed when they entered, Ron paid thirty Euro's for himself to get in, I was free, once inside I noticed that most of the seats in the main bar were covered with clothes as each person had stripped off on entering. Ron stripped off but he told me to remain dressed in the cat suit. We were in the club for four hours, they had good music on the sound system, there was a small dance floor that was very full most of the time.

I had noticed though that the dancers seemed to be cycling, they danced for a little while, then they wandered into another room that seemed to be unlit, then fifteen or so minutes later, they returned to the dance floor with a different partner and the process was started all over again.

I danced several times with Ron and often a man would ask me to dance, all very respectable with me considering I was watching people do everything but fuck on the dance floor before moving off into the 'dark room' for ten or fifteen minutes. At two o'clock in the morning Ron asked me if I had seen anyone I liked out of the men that had taken me up to the dance floor, I mentioned that one or two were my type, 'Whatever that meant!' "Tomorrow, when we come back, if you are naked they will make a move to fuck you, not just dance, one of the unwritten rules of the club!"

It was two-thirty in the morning when Ron and I tumbled into his massive bed, he started to make love to me before I was undressed, he did an hour of foreplay with me before I was finally naked and then he fucked me slowly for the rest of the night. It wasn't earth shattering, my world didn't move on its axis but, unlike any time in my life before, Ron was eager to give me several orgasms before he finally shot his load up me at around seven o'clock in the morning.

We didn't go to sleep after Ron climaxed, we went to breakfast, then at eight o'clock, Ron took me out to a spot behind the dunes to a very secluded spot, Ron oiled my body for me and then we settled down to a few hours sleep. When we woke at noon, there were eight men sitting around us, I heard a whippoorwill call and two of the eight men wandered off in that direction, leaving six men sitting close to Ron and I, just looking at the two of us as we dozed.

Ron woke me, then he gave me a drink, his cool box had let him down though, all the ice had turned to water fortunately the wine was still reasonably cool. Ron kissed me passionately, OK, see anyone you like?" I didn't understand what Ron meant, "There are six guys here, all desperate to fuck you, you can have sex with any one or any combination or all of them if you like, I have twenty condoms with me so you can have plenty of fun!"

I looked over at the six eager looking men, one did stand out, forty year old, quite muscular, an obvious body builder in the past who hadn't totally given up the fight. I looked at Ron, then over to the buff guy, Ron offered him a condom, "I'm Ron, this is my granddaughter Vicky!" My head almost snapped off of my shoulders as I refocused on Ron, the six men sitting around us didn't bat an eyelid at Ron's announcement that he was my grandfather, the guy skinning the condom down his cock mumbled, "Hi, I'm Pete!" The name may have sounded English but the accent was very definitely local.

Where the evening before, Ron had taken his time, fucked me slowly but kept going while I derived as much pleasure as I could, Peter didn't really know how long he had, Ron and everyone else around us knew something I didn't, the area was regularly patrolled by police in an effort to stamp out public fucking. As Peter moved in on me, one of the watchers put his fingers in his mouth and imitated the Whippoorwill bird several times. By the time that Pete had his cock burrowing into me, the six men watching had turned into ten. It was mind blowing to be fucked out in the sun with a large group of men standing around watching me. When Pete filled his condom and kissed me tenderly on the lips before rolling off of me, Ron kissed me too, "Well, want another one? Take my word for it, try the fat guy standing at the back!" Ron nodded towards the man he had in mind.

I wasn't at all impressed, the guy was thirty something, over twenty stones, that's like two hundred and eighty pounds. Ron nudged me, "Go on, what have you got to lose?" "OK!" Ron handed the fat guy a condom and someone watching gave the Whippoorwill bird call again, even more men came out of the scrub as I got the wind knocked out of me by the fat man.

As soon as his cock entered me, he went totally mad; I didn't even know that a human could move so fast as he pounded into me with force and vigour. Hell, don't forget stamina, Ron stopped him after thirty minutes and told him to put on a fresh condom. I thought it was all over but I was wrong and after spreading a new layer of latex on his trouser snake he set off again. I ended up climaxing for an hour solid under the fat guy, an immense amount of pleasure for the occasional discomfort of having a whale humping into me.

There was a high pitched screech from high in the sand dunes and my audience melted away in an instant. Ron kicked sand over the three condoms at my side, just as two police officers came around a bend in the track. I was still gasping from an hour long climax as the police asked Ron a few questions, Ron had to show his villa keys to one of the officers and it was noted down before the police moved on, "I think the smaller cop may be round to see us later!" "What?" "It has been known!" "You mean to check up who we are?" "Hell no, it would be too late if we weren't who we said we were, they'll come for sex if they come at all, it's the French way, everything is double standards!"

7,013 Words.

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