Stripped For Florida: Vintage Florida Replay 2

By Willie B.
[email protected]

Copyright 2014 by Willie B., all rights reserved

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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VINTAGE FLORIDA REPLAY
 
by Willie B Florida
© 2013 all rights reserved
 
Comments Welcome to [email protected]
 
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PART 2
 
As sure as I had been before leaving Ohio that my childhood memory was as sharp as ever, the way eluded me.  The white painted line down the center of the road had been updated with bright yellow paint and tiny reflectors embedded in the pavement. Tiny white bumps along the sides of the road sounded loud if I drifted too far to the side.  Otherwise the road looked the same as I remembered, tall pines hugging close to either side.  Smaller roads opened to the left or right, but they all looked eerily similar.  I didn't say anything to my wife, but she knew--as I knew--that I had no idea where the camp might be.  Oh well, I figured I'd just keep driving and perhaps we'd find a different place.  No matter where we ended up, our kids would be having a naked Florida vacation.  Still, I wanted to be naked, too, just like Ken had stripped off so long ago and enjoyed his Florida vacation.
 
We drove through the still darkness.  There wasn't a single other car on the road.  There were no towns and few houses, a farmstead far off the road in a clearing of pasture land, or the occasional light from a doublewide trailer nestled under the trees.  The half moon hung in the sky and the stars seemed brighter than I'd ever seen them.  I gave my wife a sideways glance and we smiled at one another.  No matter how things turned out, we were actually on vacation.
 
The sign was so small we nearly missed it.  "Pine Grove Naturist Camp" in hand-painted yellow letters on some dark background.  I braked to a crawl and pulled into the narrow slice of alleyway between thick stands of pine.  The sound under the wheels changed to the soft pelting of sand on the underside of the car.  I held my breath.  My wife was quiet.  It didn't seem possible this was the same place, but if the sign was correct we might have found another nudist camp -- I guess "naturist" is more politically-correct.
 
In another ten minutes we came to a wooden gate.  There wasn't a sign of anyone about and the gate was locked with a chain and padlock.  Of course, it was 4:30 in the morning.  We looked back at Mitch and Megan, fast asleep in the backseat.  I took my wife's hand and we drifted off into our own sleep.
 
* * *
 
I awoke with a start, not sure where I was.  My muscles felt cramped from sleeping behind the wheel of the car and my bladder felt ready to burst.  Worse yet, my morning wood was lodged uncomfortably in my pants and the seatbelt I had left fastened as I'd fallen into sleep. 
 
"Good morning," came a ridiculously cheery voice from the other side of the car window.  "Anyone in there?"
 
The combined humid breaths of four living humans had fogged the inside of the car with enough moisture that we were sealed inside a cocoon.  My wife mumbled in half-sleep next to me as she roused out of slumber.  "Just hit snooze," I think she was trying to say.
 
I tried to open the window, but managed to open the door instead, hitting whoever was on the other side.
 
"Sorry," I blurted out.
 
"Oh, no problem.  You should have honked.  I'd have let you in."
 
I managed to undo the seat belt, get the door open and staggered out into the open, nearly falling headfirst into the sand.  I caught myself and swayed to stay upright on muscles that stabbed with the prickling needles of no circulation.  I was certainly aware that I made a ridiculous sight: tousled hair, rumpled clothes, a bulge from morning erection and uncertain balance.
 
"Um, is this the nudist place?  I have my kids in the car . . . they've been stripped."  I stopped, well aware that I was babbling rather incoherently.
 
"Of course you do!  Take off your clothes and get your car in here.  We'll get you all set up."
 
I realized the woman was completely naked, making my nudist question all the more ridiculous.
 
"I've got to pee."  My son's voice sounded from inside the car.  "Where are we, anyway?"
 
I pulled my clothes off, as much to clear my head as anything else.  I resisted the urge to urinate right there and then, looked at my still hard penis and smiled ruefully at the lady until I realized she wasn't looking at me at all.  She was holding the gate open and hollering that there were new arrivals.
 
I got into the driver's seat, closed the door and drove into a sandy lot in front of a small, unpainted wood cabin with a lean-to porch.  A middle-aged man with the leathery skin of the perpetually nude stood in the doorway.
 
As soon as the car came to a halt the woman came bustling over from the now closed gate and opened the car door.
 
"Welcome, welcome.  So glad you could make it.  Get out and we'll set you up with a place to stay.  Hi kids," she said, peering into the backseat.  "Bet you can't wait to get out of this cramped car, can you?"
 
My son gawked at her, naked boobs hanging down, big grin, and graying hair framing her face in a mass of curls.  I don't think he realized yet that he was naked, too!
 
Realizing that none of us could get out until she removed her head from the car window, she stepped back. I pulled my nude body out of the driver's seat and pulled it forward so my son could get out.
 
"I'm going to pee in the car; I can't hold it any more, Dad."
 
"Not in the car, Mitch, just pee on the ground -- please!"
 
"Okay, okay, just let me out."
 
Mitch lunged out of the car and let a hot jet of pee stream out onto the sand. 
 
"I'm so sorry," I lamented to the woman.
 
"It's quite alright," she boomed in her loud voice. "The boys do it all the time -- even the girls.  And as for erections," she added, bringing me back to my own embarrassing situation, "we'll get your son his shot right away."  What the hell was she talking about?
 
"Hi there son," she addressed Mitch as soon as he finished peeing.  "I'm Stacey.  Glad you could make it.  Let's get you taken care of and then I'll introduce you to the other kids."  Mitch cast me a questioning look over his shoulder as the woman took him over to the cabin.  I shrugged.
 
"You want to get out?"  I asked my wife, leaning in through the still open door on my side of the car.
 
"Sure.  You think it is the same place you came as a kid?"  I stood up and looked around. 
 
"I really don't know!  Maybe.  I really gotta pee."
 
I walked over to the cabin just in time to hear Mitch scream.  "What was that for!!!"  Seeing me come in the door he protested, "that lady just gave me a shot!  What is this place, Dad?  And why is everyone naked?"
 
"Hmm, looks like you're naked too," I observed, my eyes adjusting to the dark interior.
 
"Yeah, that's true.  What happened to my clothes?  How'd we get here?  Where are we anyway?"
 
My wife was standing in the doorway, looking oddly overdressed.
 
"You came for the contest, right?"  The lady named Stacey, asked, "Where'd you say you were from, again?"
 
"Ohio," my wife stated.  "My husband came here when he was a little kid -- at least he thinks this is the same place.  Anyway, you mentioned a cabin?  It would be great to have a place to freshen up."
 
"Oh, of course, of course.  Bob, could you get these good folks settled into number five.  The Gladsons were supposed to take it but they called and said they have to go down to Eustis instead and take care of Gail's mom."
 
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The cabin was small, but surprisingly airy and spacious inside.  Our family sat in the four corners of the large room getting used to the sights and sounds and smells of Florida right outside the screened open windows and front door.
 
Between my wife and I we'd explained where we were (somewhere in North Florida), how we got here (in the car) and why (dad is reliving his childhood memory).  We were less successful at answering the barrage of other questions: are we really supposed to stay naked, how long are we staying, what contest, why'd I get a shot, and more importantly how come she didn't get a shot?
 
Our family conference may have degenerated into kids yelling at parents except that a gaggle of other youngsters showed up at the door.  We could see them plainly enough in the bright sunlight on the other side of the screen door.  They must have had more difficulty making out our forms in the darker inside of the cabin.
 
"Hi, are you the new kids?  Come out and play.  We've got fun stuff to show you."
 
The braver of the lot opened the door and stepped inside.  Like all the kids he was totally naked.  He was maybe 12 years old and his penis was sticking upwards in a nice little erection.  "Oh, hi, sorry," he gestured at me.  "I didn't know -- I mean I thought just your kids might be here?"
 
"That's okay, welcome to our new home," my wife said.
 
"Um, hi," he said. "I'm Alec.  Can your kids come out and play?"
 
"Mitch, Megan, looks like you're in demand," my wife intoned in that voice she is so good at -- giving an order under the guise of friendly conversation.
 
"Okay," my son said, drawing the word out slowly to let his mom know he was completely aware that he was obeying rather than volunteering.  When he stood up I noted that his own penis was hard as well.  He looked alarmed but I could see him shrug to himself and relax when he saw that all three boys present were equally hard.  There were four girls -- two flat-chested like Megan, a girl with just the beginnings of breasts, and the oldest with a nice set of rounded melons with perky little nipples.  I put my head down, embarrassed to be staring.  Everything had seemed so much easier when I was a kid.  We arrived and we played and while I loved being naked it also seemed natural and easy without any social complications.  I hoped my kids would have the same great time.
 
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(The End)