First Summer: Zoe's Naked Sex Party

"We're just going for a swim to freshen up before breakfast.".

I watch as they walk out into deeper water where they dive in and start playing with each other.

Turning back towards Greg I can't help but ask –

"Do you think we've screwed around enough to get invited back next year?"

"Probably not. Should I go over and take Jill up on her invitation from last night; she looks as though she up for a bit of variety this morning?"

Jill and her last lover are still lying on the shoreline, he on his back, she up on an elbow facing towards us with her leg hooked over his thigh. She's drawing shapes on his chest with her finger as they talk; like I saw her doing to Greg last night.

"Definitely not."

His choice of Jill as the sample bites deep into me and threatens me in a way I know is silly and that I haven't felt since the day of my first reaction to Kate. Still why did he have to pick the only girl here who I actually felt threatened by where he was concerned. I dig Greg in the ribs as I answer him; hitting him hard enough I think it did really hurt him.

"Not unless you want me to hook up with Tim"

Greg's still talking lightly, not realising he's strayed into a minefield and thinks we're just joking around.

"Well I think Kate's finished with him, so he's probably available"

I try to suppress a rising tide of irritation. I know I'm being silly. Greg isn't taking any of this seriously; it's just his choice of Jill has gotten under my skin. I know he probably nominated her because she's lying just along the beach from us and has a demonstrated propensity for serial lovemaking and yet can't cast off the fear that he nominated her because he felt the very sense of attraction that I most feared.

I think I manage to hide my annoyance, but bring the conversation to an end.

"Maybe we're not really cut out for these parties"

"I'm starting to feel like a prune. How about we get out and see what happens for breakfast?"

Greg's right on that point. We've been in the water long enough now our skins are getting wrinkly.

As we exit the lake I squeegee the water from my skin with my hand. By now there's a few useful souls wandering about starting to prepare a bacon and egg breakfast and much more than half of those have retrieved their wet swimmers from the edge of the lake and donned them, so I feel relaxed about putting on my dry bikini while transferring the wet one to a safe place for later collection.

At first Greg thinks he's stuck with the wet boardies, but his dry stuff is quickly found lying on the grass alongside the deck on the opposite side of the property to that which been looking over this morning, so he also achieves a degree of decency.

By the time we return to it, the house looks entirely different. I suppose waking to find you've been lying exposed asleep on a couch with a boner or your legs spread wide while people walk around you is going to be a bit disconcerting, so it appears once there was some movement in the house, everyone else was up fairly quickly.

Someone had collected the swimmers we'd bundled along the shore and brought them up to the deck, so the number of semi dressed people exceed what we might have thought likely from the traffic along the water's edge. And in referring to semi dressed, I'm not just referencing the fact they are all in wet swimmers. A lot of the girls are still topless; my assumption after the Christmas day episode being that their padded tops have floated off with the offshore wind while their unpadded bottoms drifted with the wavelets to the shore or just sunk to the bottom. As a committed wearer of unpadded tops, it left me feeling unjustifiably smug; at least until I wrapped myself over my own knuckles for such hubris.

Soon those whose swim wear hasen't yet made it ashore can be seen wading in the shallows looking for them or any others still lurking there

Breakfast and the conversation that went with it is pleasant enough and towards the end of it word filters back that our clothing has found its way to just outside the front door. I was wondering how the perpetrator would manage to sneak them back in broad daylight and it seems he or she waited for the distraction of breakfast. Still, with Zoe and her sister both present over breakfast most of the time, the mystery of how they do it or where they hid the clothing remains.

With the return of the clothing the party starts to break up. Greg and I are among the earlier ones to leave. When we let her know we're ready to go, Kate apologises and wonders if we'd mind if she got a lift back with Wayne; I think I can see something developing with Wayne and I really feel happy for her.

Three days later I'm sitting in Greg's car, all my holiday clothing packed in my bag in his boot as we get ready to drive back to my place in Sydney for the start of the Uni term.

Last night we shared a dinner with Kate and both she and I dissolved into a flood of tears as we kissed each other goodbye. But her tears as she said goodbye to me were nothing compared to those she spilt over Greg's shoulder as she held him in a final embrace; heaving sobs wracking her body. I wondered if she'd ever bring herself to release him from her intimate hug and even when I got him back his face was wet with the tears she'd smeared over it as she'd repeatedly kissed his cheek.

We've said our goodbyes to Greg's parents and his sister Jenna too. I've shared a tear with his mother as we've promised each other to keep in contact.

Three months ago I'd driven into this town in the back of my parent's car. It was a scene straight out of the opening sequence of the movie Dirty Dancing; mum, dad, brothers and the innocent virginal youngest child and daughter dutifully off to share a holiday with her parents.

I'm no longer a virgin; anything but. The town kids are right. Greg and I have been screwing each other's arses off. But I still regard myself as being innocent in my own sort of way. But what is innocence? If it has anything to do with the number of times you've had sex, I fail. If it is judged by the places and circumstances in which you've had sex I fail that too. But if it's judged by the person or persons you've had sex with then I think I'm still innocent and are in no hurry to change that.

I've shared my body with one guy; a guy I love with all my life and who loves me and respects me in return. By my definition, that's still innocence.

Three months ago I thought I was driving into a town populated by bogans. In that town I found the love of my life and the best friend I've ever known. I found kids who had a good sense about what they needed to do to get ahead in life, but also valued where they'd come from; even if there was a good smattering of real bogans too. That just shows the danger of rushing to judgements or generalisations doesn't it?

While I'm looking forward to the future, I feel sad this rather special time is over.

I suppose Greg and I can share a pash on the Uni's library lawn at lunch time as I've seen so many other couples do. But how does that compare to being fucked by Greg while lying on a public beach naked and hogtied with the string-ties of my own bikini.

I suppose we'll get dressed up in togas and go to the Uni's Bacchius Ball. But how do I recreate the trip back from the fancy dress ball where I got myself stripped out of my costume and fucked in a river by my superhero boyfriend.

In a way, dear reader, I suppose the real message is that the sharing of this journey between you and me is also coming to an end. I doubt the immediate future will have as many interesting vignettes to share with you.

Thankyou to those who have shared the whole journey or just dropped in for some entertainment from time to time. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

Finis (for now)

AFTERWORD

While it was the finish of the holiday, there are some follow up stories to share with you.

I'll continue to tag them as part of the First Summer series so you recognise them.