She couldn’t leave her mother waiting. She said goodbye.”“Thanks for telling me.”“So, how did it go?”“How did what go?”“Your day.”...“Hoo boy. It was unreal. What about you?”“Not too much happened, really.”“Aw. Did you get any relief, Emily?”“No.”“How about we do what we did yesterday?”“Okay.” she said, sheepishly. She was so cute like that.I followed her down the hall to our bench. I know it’s a public bench, but I will always remember it as our bench now. Her ass cheeks were alternately going up. My wife was pinned up against the bedroom wall, and some Hispanic stud was fucking her from behind. Her breasts were mashed against the wall, her eyes shut tight, and her mouth open as she moaned and urged this bull to keep on fucking her. The stud that was slamming his prick into my wife was young, not more than thirty, with a deep outdoor tan that complemented his naturally olive skin. His well-muscled body was shining with sweat, and his coarse, heavy hands gripped my wife’s hips as he kept. She missed the spontaneity and passion, his stupid dorky jokes, the fact that she never knew what he was going to do next… not to mention the way he fulfilled her needs in bed. Things were definitely worse than ever with Roger and sex, she didn’t want to sleep with him at all since all it did was tease her and remind her how much he was lacking in what she needed. Actively avoiding him for too long had its price too though, as he looked at her with wounded puppy eyes, not understanding why she. Performance art. The beach was for us. Us? Yes I was a nudist. I'd known it the second I'd stepped outside the day before. Mom wasn't ready to concede the same thing out loud but we both knew she was too. And as we spent that first day together on the beach she couldn't hide it.She strode proudly down the beach as I led her, almost prancing as she brazenly displayed herself to the watching crowd.I'd fucked my mother the night before! Repeatedly. And every single person we passed on the beach.