“Do you want to see my tattoo?” asked Petra, as we sat in her lounge, enjoying our weekly midmorning coffee.

“Sure.” I looked at my beautiful friend, her long red hair cascading over her shoulders, not sure what to expect. She wasn’t dressed in her normal vicarage clothes. She had a short black Japanese kimono with a red embroidered dragon at the back on. I could see the swelling of her full mature breasts, her long naked legs stretched out before her. My heart thumped in my chest; my breath quickened. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the anticipation of another one of her outrageous theological pranks.

We were both pastors in adjoining congregations, the first females in our denomination. Our husbands were also our senior colleagues in the congregations. Petra was the outgoing, easy pastor everyone loved. Her husband, Gert, was the quiet one, while my husband, Johan, was the dynamic leader in the church. Me, I saw myself as the follower, although my theological studies were far outside the church’s dogmatic box. And I was too scared and timid to openly express my views. Although, my understanding of the divine found its way into my sermons.

When Petra unfolded her long legs, for the briefest of moments I saw her smooth upper thigh. As she walked up to me, I held my breath. Petra was the expression of everything sexual in a woman. When she planted her legs wide apart before me, unfastening her kimono, I knew our relationship would change forever. I looked up at her smiling face and when she dropped her flimsy kimono, I could only gasp. Her full breasts sagged a little, but their pink nipples stood out like beacons on two hills. My gaze followed the movement of her hands past her navel, over her belly, to the small patch of red pubic hair. The vision of her protruding clit hit me where I didn’t want to go. Or a place I denied myself to enter.

For the first time in my forty-nine years, I saw another woman’s vulva, her slit, and the shy, protruding lips. I was mesmerized by the vision. I wanted to touch it, to feel the smoothness of her outer lips, and to slip my fingers between her wet lips. Then I saw the tattoo.

“LICK ME.”

Petra pushed her crotch into my face, my nose touching her pubic hair, and said, “Just do it.”

I closed my eyes as the exotic aroma of her aroused sex entered my sensitive nostrils. My hands found their way around her legs to her ass cheeks, pulling her closer as I pushed my tongue into her wet slit. That first taste of another’s most intimate secretions overwhelmed me. My head spun as I took a deep breath. I became conscious of the wetness of my panty and my own nipples hardening. My body responded to an unfathomable desire.

When she lifted her right leg over my left shoulder to give me better access to her vulva I nearly fainted. Looking up at her, I grabbed her raised leg with my left hand and with my other hand touched her pussy.

“For God’s sake, Sandy, lick my fucking cunt.”

But the stern voice of decades of indoctrination shouted back: “You know it is dirty down there. A woman shouldn’t touch herself or another woman. Just say no.” Mother’s soft shameful warning about my unmentionables stopped me in my tracks and dried my own wetness faster than a drop of water in the Namib desert sun. I slowly untangled Petra’s leg from my shoulder and pushed her back, my head dropped in shame.

“I am sorry,” I whispered. “I cannot be unfaithful to Johan.”

Petra dropped to her knees, lifted my head, and kissed me. When I opened my eyes and looked into hers, all I could see was love, passion and desire.

“I love you,” said Petra and kissed me again, forcing her tongue between my lips. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled with the emotions raging inside me.

“I love you too, but we’re married Christian women.” I stood up and looked down at my naked friend, my heart ripped apart. If I stayed a moment longer, I knew I would’ve stripped off all my clothes and made passionate love to her. Dogma and Mother shut that door as I fled from Petra’s love, into morning traffic to a hill overlooking the city. As I gripped the steering wheel in anger, sobs tore through my body, shaking me to the core.

“Oh God, why are you so cruel? Why give me all these desires, all the knowledge only to deny me the pleasure of living it?”

After what seemed to be hours, my tearless dry sobs, my make-up ruined, I needed to face my past. Rage drove me to my mother’s cottage where she and her friend, Mrs. Tersia van der Merwe were having lunch under a Jacaranda Tree with its purple flowers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the beauty of our pussies?” I demanded, ignoring the shock on their faces. “Why must we be ashamed of our cunts?”

Mother was the first to recover. “Sandra, that is enough.” After a pause, she deftly placed her delicate teacup on the table and continued her stern matriarchal reprimand. “How dare use that kind of language. You are embarrassing me in front of my friend. Apologise this instant.”

“No, Mother. You and your fucking church fucked up my life. For far too long I had to be the quiet and dutiful one. There is a world out there bigger than your little church and closed cunts. I want to experience more of life than what you can offer.” As I turned around to leave, her next words felt like daggers stabbing me in the heart.

“If you leave without an apology and take everything back, you will no longer be my child. You will be dead to me.”

I gripped the door handle, took a deep breath, and said, “So be it. Goodbye, Mrs. Martie Swanepoel,” and walked out.

Driving home, my anger made way for regrets. How could I ever face Petra or Mother again? My biggest regret was: Why did I allow men and their fear to prescribe the expression of my sexuality? Was Goddess really such a schmuck to give me a pussy, only for the church to make it dirty?

I found Johan in his study sitting behind his large mahogany desk concluding what sounded like a serious telephone conversation. “I understand… I will inform her… No, she just walked in… I will… Goodbye.” Johan looked at me as he slammed the phone down, his face turning red.

“How could you do this to me? What have I ever done to you to deserve this embarrassment?” He paused, catching his breath, his hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“Do you love me?” I asked.

“That was the chairman of the Synod,” Johan continued. “He received serious complaints about your Sunday sermons. He called it heresy.”
“Do you care about me?”

“The church is going to officially charge you with blasphemy.” Johan stood up and walked around his desk to look out the window, his back to me. “Your mother also called. She does not blame me for your outburst but wants me to talk some sense into you.”

“Do you still find me desirable, or at least like me?” I had to know if my love and loyalty had any chance of a return of investing more than 20 years of my life.

“You have a choice. Retract everything you’ve said from the pulpit for the last six months and apologise to your mother.” Johan turned around, took a book from the bookshelf, and settled behind his desk, paging through the book, looking for something. “Or resign and leave the church.” He never lifted his gaze to me.

It was as if somebody punched me in my stomach and throttled me. I couldn’t breathe. My legs turned into jelly. Since I was a little girl, I wanted to share the Goddess’ love with the world, but people were more interested in church doctrine and money than love. My fate was sealed.

During the next few weeks, I resigned from the church, divorced Johan, leaving a sexless and childless marriage behind; sold the little I had and found myself managing a small game ranch for Koos, an acquaintance of a friend of mine. Investing everything I had in my continued education as a hands-on would-be ecologist, game ranching, tracking, wilderness survival and wildlife guide, I quickly left my old life behind. I tried very hard to forget Petra and her tattoo, but my heart had an empty space reserved for her. The biggest challenge was suppressing my sexual desires and sharing Her love with the world.

Meanwhile, I enjoyed guiding tourists through the game ranch that was connected to the Kruger National Park, the pride of South African tourism. On a game drive with five young tourists, I was reminded of what I missed my whole life. These youngsters wanted to see the hippos in the river. After about an hour’s drive, we came to a deep pool in the Olifants (Elephant) River. A “pod” of hippos, about seven females, a few young and the dominant bull were enjoying the morning splash in the water. Then the bull lifted his backside, defecated, and distributed his dung with the wagging of his short fat tail. The pungent smell reached us.

“Why did the hippo do that?” asked Campbell from Australia. His hand was on Kate, his girl’s breast, squeezing it as he looked me in the eye.

“To mark his territory,” answered Ian from England, his hand beneath his wife’s short dress.

“I don’t think so,” said the young Naomi, sitting next to me. She had a cut-off tank top on, her underboobs showing the bottom of her nipples. Her green lycra short shorts revealed her bulging camel toe. She swung her right leg to my side, opening her pussy mound to my gaze. “He just had to go and didn’t have toilet paper to wipe his ass.”  

I was getting worked up at this sexual display. My dry pussy showed signs of awakening as I felt wetness lubricating my neither lips.

“There’s an old African creation story about why hippos do this,” I said. “King Lion had the task to assign each species a place to live. The crocodile wanted to live in the rivers to eat fish but when the hippo wanted to live in water too, Croc objected.

Hippo said, “My skin is very sensitive, and the African sun is very harsh. I need to be in the water during the day.”

“With your big mouth you will eat all the fish,” complained croc.

“Not to worry,” said hippo. “I will scatter my dung to show you if there are any fish bones in it.”

By the time I finished this little story, Kate was busy sucking Campbell’s cock, Ian was lapping at Jill’s pussy while Naomi was the only one listening.

“Sorry to break up your passion,” I said. “But with the heat from your fucking, you might set this place on fire.” I started the vehicle and drove on to our next destination. I lost interest in the nature around me. Why care about nature when your own sexual nature and soul had been denied? 

Approaching my fiftieth birthday, with nobody knowing, I wanted time to myself. Then, one day, when I was alone at the lodge, I decided to take a naked dip in the pool. As I swam, feeling the water caressing my naked body, I saw Petra’s smooth pussy as clear as day. The reminder drained my body of energy. I couldn’t continue swimming. I struggled to climb out and lay there naked on the edge, sobbing.

Not having heard Koos and his wife Rita, arriving, I became aware of their presence only when Rita kneeled next to me.

“Sandy are you okay?” she asked. As I opened my eyes, I looked past Rita’s open legs and saw her naked pussy. She had a short white dress on, obviously without any panties. Then I realised I was still naked and wanted to cover up. Rita stopped me.

“Koos, please pass me the towel,” said Rita as she helped me up. “And her bathrobe.” Rita dried every naked inch of my naked body with Koos grinning at us.

“I’m sorry you caught me naked…”

“I’m not,” said Koos, grinning from ear to ear, leering at my naked body.  Reluctantly he handed me my bathrobe. “You still have a beautiful body.”

“Thank you, I think.” I quickly put on the robe.

Rita took me to the pool bar and quickly had coffee percolating.

“We just came from the bank,” said Koos. “They’re giving us three months to pay off our debt.”

“This is not the right time to talk about money,” said Rita. “Can’t you see Sandy is upset?”

The penny dropped. They had to let me go and with nowhere else to go, I was in deep trouble.

“Did you like seeing my pussy?” asked Rita, changing the subject.

I could feel my face turning red and tightened the robe to cover any hint of my nakedness.  

“I didn’t mean to,” I stammered. “Yes. It is beautiful.”

Rita poured hot black coffee into two mugs and handed one to me.

“Koos, please be a darling and fix us brunch,” said Rita and sat on the barstool next to me. “We need some girl-time with no interruptions.”

As soon as Koos turned his back to go to the communal kitchen, Rita slipped off her white dress and stood before me, a proud naked woman. The image of a naked Petra flashed before me, blending the two women in my aching heart. I gasped as I looked at her beautiful full breasts and lovely pussy. Rita removed my bathrobe and stepped between my spread legs, resting her hands on my upper thighs, close to my pussy.

“What you need is a good fuck,” she said, kissing me softly on my open lips. Her hands on my thighs slipped closer to my waiting pussy and before I knew it, she cupped my vulva with a warm hand. It was as if my pussy juice wanted to douse the heat from her hand to prevent a fire. But the fire in my soul fueled the flames of my desire. I pulled Rita closer, kissed her back, and opened my legs wider to give her better access to my aching pussy.

For the first time, I was able to touch other woman’s breasts, feeling their softness and her hard erect nipples. I have never made love to a woman and didn’t even know how to please myself.

“Let me show you,” said Rita, as she must have realised how ignorant I was in the art of pleasing a woman. Her soft kisses on my neck sent shivers down my spine. She squeezed my tits and played with my nipples between her fingers, pulling and rubbing them. Electrical shockwaves, however small, cascaded down to my pussy, flooded it with my arousal. When Rita kissed my breasts and sucked on my nipples, I knew I was close to an orgasm. Her butterfly-soft kisses down to my clit nearly pushed me over the edge. The final demonstration in my sexual education was Rita’s tongue sliding through my pussy and sucking on my clit and lips.

“Oh, my fucking Goddess,” I screamed, as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through me, leaving me breathless. When Rita kissed me, I tasted myself for the first time and something in me awakened. It was as if the burden of shame I carried for so long dropped off my soul.

“Let me try it on you,” I said, as I helped Rita on the bar.

Bending forward, I admired Rita’s pussy with a small landing strip pointing to her protruding clit. With both hands, I caressed her smooth thighs on the way to her apex, her open pussy. I could see the glistening pink petals of her secret garden. I fell in love with her beauty, with the source of life. Shyly, I touched her clit with my tongue, tasting her growing wetness. Instinct guided me as I flicked Rita’s little knob with my tongue before I sucked it into my mouth.

“Yes, that is it,” moaned Rita as she fell back onto the bar counter. “You’re getting the hang of it. Swipe your tongue through my slit.” With such detailed instructions, I had to oblige. I gripped Rita’s legs and pulled her pussy closer to devour her and to satisfy my hunger.

With her legs around my head, I could hear my own thumping heart beating in unison with hers. I moved my mouth up and down her pussy, coating my lips with her juices. This was what I should’ve done with Petra. I closed my burning eyes as tears streamed down my face. I was happy and sad and angry. Why did it take so long for me to experience the joy and passion of Eros? Why did I deny myself the pleasure of another woman’s sacred mound? Why did I hide behind the dogmatic trappings of the church?

Rita’s hand on my head brought me back to the pleasure at hand. I kissed her inner thighs, sucked her lips, fucked her pussy with my tongue and inserted three fingers into her cunt. I prayed to the Goddess to help me make Rita orgasm. I wanted to cram all the wasted years of neglect into pleasuring my new lover. Time stood still as I continued my training to love another and to forgive myself. As my fingers curled inside her, I touched a soft spot, making Rita shake and scream.

After a while, Rita calmed down and pushed herself up. She took my face in her hands and kissed me. “Thank you for making me cum,” she whispered, hugging me against her breasts.

Sobs of joy and regret shook me to the core. The softness of another human being enveloped me like a warm blanket. I hugged her naked back, kissed her breasts and sucked on her hard nipples.

“Brunch is served,” interrupted Koos behind me.

This was my awakening moment. I just made love to his wife, I was naked and still aroused. Would I turn and run, like I did with Petra, or would I face my new future?

“But I just had dessert,” I said and stepped away from Rita, facing Koos naked with my hands on my hips, thrusting my tits and pussy out as an invitation to him. He looked me up and down and shrugged.

“Listen, darling, I would love to fuck your hot body into the middle of next week,” he said. “But I made a hot brunch that’s getting cold.” He stepped closer to me, pinched my nipples, cupped my vulva, and slipped two fingers into my wet dripping pussy. “I can always heat you up again, but not brunch,” he said, licking my juices off his fingers. “Come on.”

“Let’s not tempt fate,” said Rita behind me as she jumped off the bar counter. She hooked her arm into mine and we followed Koos to the dining area, still naked.

Brunch was the most bizarre experience I’ve ever had. The food was divine, and the company funny and informative. Every time when a naked Koos served us another course, his soft but well-endowed penis swung close to my face. I had to laugh. Johan, my ex-husband, would never have thought about serving me brunch. He would’ve died before doing it in the buff. When Koos poured me my coffee I stopped him.

“My I touch Kosie?” I asked Koos. (Kosie is the diminutive for Koos in Afrikaans)

“I thought you take your coffee black,” he said as his penis started to rise.

“I don’t want your cream in my coffee,” I said. “I just want to feel your cock.”

“In that case, my dear, Kosie is all yours, for now.”

My first touch of another man’s dick was liberating. His softness soon gave way to a hard throbbing and beautiful shaft. Moving my hand up and down, his foreskin revealed a smooth reddish head with a small slit, smiling at me.

“Kiss it,” said Rita. “Taste his juice.”

Without another thought, I did as she suggested and kissed the smooth mushroom head. The slit must have leaked something because I could taste its saltiness and smelled its aroma.

“If you continue heating Kosie, your coffee will get cold and my cream would end up in your mouth,” warned Koos.

For a moment everything stopped. I wondered what Mother, no, Mrs. Martie Swanepoel, would say about my depravity. What would the members of the congregation gossip about me sucking another man’s cock with his wife’s blessing?

I pulled my mouth away from Kosie with a pop. With his wife's blessing?

“You’re okay with another woman playing with your husband’s penis?” I asked Rita. I turned to Koos. “And you didn’t say a word when I ate your wife’s pussy? Why?”

“We’re nonmonogamous,” answered Rita.

“Ethical nonmonogamous,” quipped Koos.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.

“We’re swingers. We enjoy sex with each other and with other people,” said Koos.

“When I see Koos making love to another woman, I love him more,” said Rita. “I was filled with love for both of you when you played with his penis.”

This was too much for me to swallow. I took a sip of my coffee and saw Koos walking towards Rita to kiss her. She stood up and they hugged each other. What have I missed in my miserable life? Christianity was supposed to be about love and all I got was dogmas with more rules than leaves on a tree. Petra wanted to show me another side of love when she showed me her tattoo. I was just too dumb to realise it.   

“Thank you for the brunch and the dessert,” I said as I got up. “I just need some time to think. I’ll be back soon.”

I walked naked into the African bush…

To get away from the temptations of Rita and Koos, I rushed out without thinking. My emotions were in such a turmoil that I didn’t even bother to dress or put on my boots. I just walked into the afternoon sun. After about fifteen minutes I became aware of my own nakedness, of my breasts gently moving with the rhythm of my steps. My nipples pointed into the wind, aroused and hard. My upper thighs swished against each other, sweat lubricating the movements. I tried not to focus on my throbbing pussy. It seemed as if I had a long way to go before I could make peace with my own genitals. My only awareness was where I planted my bare feet. My training in wilderness bushcraft subconsciously directed my feet away from danger. 

After a while, my emotions settled, and my monkey mind chatter took over. My mind tried to make sense of what I have just experienced, while my emotional turmoil managed to push my body forward onto unknown paths. Ever since I arrived at the game ranch, I’ve managed to suppress my sexual desires and dedicate every waking hour to my work and training as a game ranger/manager. My approaching birthday, the big five-O, threw my resolve for a loop. Licking Rita’s pussy and sucking Kosie shook my nearly fifty-year-old life with limited sexual experience to the core. How could I have done such a despicable thing? Remembering Rita’s tongue on my clit and my amateurish exploration of her pussy sent lubrications back to my pussy. How could I ever forget my first touch of a delectable pussy that was up until recently a taboo? I would never forget my hand around Koos’ dick, his throbbing cock sending pleasure up my arm.

Forcing these erotic images from my mind, I stopped to take stock of my surroundings. Looking around me, I saw the devastation of a terrible drought and with the rainy season nearly over, with no prospect of rain, nature was groaning. It was as if nature also felt neglected and dried up her erotic desires. I was blind and deaf to Her cries and only now when I became aware of my responsibilities, I saw Her pain. Big businesses were more concerned about profit and quarterly reports than the state of the planet. Most Christians were more anxious about their dogmas than about the environment.

Years of anti-sexual indoctrination prevented me from seeing this truth. Maybe I can do…

Suddenly, a few meters to my left, a crested korhaan flew up in the air, somersaulting backwards to land gracefully to impress a female korhaan. It scared the crap out of me and brought my attention back to my own predicament.

I was still naked, the mid-afternoon sun on my left. I have been walking in a northerly direction for about an hour. (In the southern hemisphere, the path of the sun across the sky is anti-clockwise, right to left, east to west.) Before I could take another step, I heard the unmistakable pffffftt warning sound of a puff adder, one of Africa’s deadliest snakes. This cytotoxic snake, although sluggish, can strike quickly and with accuracy. Hidden amongst dry leaves and dry grass laid the well-camouflaged snake with its triangular-shaped head. It was busy shedding its skin. That saved me from a nasty bite and opened my eyes to the reality I’ve experienced.

Since Petra showed me her tattoo my life took a backward tumble, divorcing me from my comfortable theological world, and depositing me back to Eden. Unlike Eve, when confronted with the snake, I didn’t read the snake as a temptation, but as an invitation to a new life. Mythologically, the snake is a symbol of regeneration, of new life. Adam and Eve were kicked out of nature, while I returned to find myself. Hopefully.

Most people, me included, saw people in their fifties as nonsexual beings, devoid of any sexual desires. I found myself at fifty awakening to the pleasures of the flesh. I wanted to cry thinking of all the opportunities I missed, chances I rejected, living like a nun, ignoring the cries of my body.

When I turned around to go back to Rita and Koos, I saw the lodge from a different angle. The swimming pool, surrounded by a few trees, looked like an open vulva, the buildings behind it formed the torso and the two hills at the back completed the female shape. This was the final image I needed to convince me of my new path. My years of taking care of my body with yoga, jogging, and spending time in the gym served me well on my return jog to the lodge.

As I rushed into the pool area, I saw a dressed Koos and Rita, sitting around the bar, sipping red wine.

“Thank you for showing me the way,” I said, a little out of breath, but happy with my decision.

“Take a seat,” said Koos, as Rita poured a glass of Merlot and pushed it in my direction. I sat on the barstool between them.

“The lodge looks like a slut with her open legs…” I continued.

“Why didn’t you tell us who you really are?” asked Rita, concern, and disappointment clouding her beautiful face.

“What do you mean?”

“We talked to your friend, our mutual acquaintance, to get more information about our lodge manager,” said Koos. “After we pushed him a little, he told us another story of who you are.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything he tells you.” I could feel blood of shame rushing to my face. I could no longer avoid the truth. “What did he say?”

“That you are not as dumb as you look or pretend to be,” said Rita. “And that you’ve rattled a lot of ivory towers and upset a few theological carts.”

“So?”

“What the fuck are you doing here, hiding away when people need to hear your voice?” asked Koos.

“Look at me,” I said. “A fifty-year-old sitting naked between two clothed people without giving a damn. That voice would never have done this. Up until I saw the lodge and what it represents, I was unsure of myself, of why I am here.” As I got off the barstool, I pushed it out of the away, stood in front of Rita, and softly kissed her on her lovely lips. I took her right hand and placed it on my breast. I needed her blessings to continue on my path of exploring my sexuality. I wanted to know if I could love women and men intimately, and if I was still sexually attractive. I might go directly to Hell, but I wanted to go there on my terms. My right hand found Koos, or rather an aroused Kosie, beneath a layer of his pants. I pulled Koos off his stool, inviting him closer.

“Now show me what nonmonogamy means,” I said, as I felt Koos’ hand finding its way between my legs, cupping my vulva. When he inserted a finger into my wet pussy, I pushed my tongue between Rita’s lips. Once our connection was made, another bubble of my safe world exploded.

I had to see Rita naked again and quickly disposed of her clothes. When I stepped back to look at her beautiful breasts and her inviting mound, I bumped against a naked Koos, his dick finding its way between my legs. This was something I have never experienced, and it was bliss. My body, my pussy could still arouse a man.

“You want nonmonogamy, let’s start with Koos,” said Rita, as she moved us to a shady spot on the soft grass next to the pool. She dropped to her knees and took Kosie, Koos’ erection, into her hands. “Let’s give him a blowjob he’ll remember for a long time.”

My first feminist reaction was that I wouldn’t worship the phallus ever again, but when Rita took Kosie into her mouth, I saw Koos’ reaction. This wasn’t a worship of a dick but a celebration of pleasure. Rita was in charge; she took control of his pleasure and I sensed she also received pleasure from it. I quickly dropped next to Rita on the grass and fondled his balls. He was clean-shaven with a little tuff above the root of his cock.

“Before I give you the pleasure of sucking Kosie, I want to kiss you first as a sign of my trust in you as a lover,” said Rita. Her soft kiss found my open mouth. As Koos pushed his cock between our lips, I realised the significance of the act. They invited me into their inner circle, into their lifestyle.

I wrapped my hand around his throbbing erection and looked at the smooth head hiding beneath the foreskin. A blue blood vein travelled from beneath the head alongside the shaft before disappearing in his groin. Johan, my ex-husband, never wanted me to touch or take a closer look at his penis. Now, another man’s wife gave me permission to inspect and pleasure her husband’s genitals. This was the second time in one day I had the pleasure of touching a man’s cock. This time I wanted to see it through, I wanted to feel him deep inside me. Fucking me.

Moving my hand up and down his cock, I felt the warmth of his desire flowing through his veins. I kissed the head again and tasted his precum, but this time I opened my mouth to welcome the head inside. I swirled my tongue around the smoothness, but when Koos wanted to push his cock deeper in my mouth, I nearly gagged and pulled away.

“Not so fast, lover boy,” I said. “No dick has ever gone deeper than this. Give me a chance to learn how to do it.” I got on all four and said: “Fuck me instead. Fuck me good.”

Koos, with the help of Rita, managed to get behind me, swiped his cock a few times through my wet slit, before he entered me.

“Fuck, your pussy is tight,” said Koos. I had to relax my pussy muscles and let go of guarding my secret garden to allow him access deeper into my inner sanctum. With every inch he moved deeper inside me, the farther he pushed my old self out of my life.

“Are you complaining, or is it a compliment?” Rita wanted to know.

“A huge fucking compliment,” answered Koos. “It has been a while since I found a pussy this tight.”

“I must say, it has been a while since I had anything inside me,” was my only response, shutting my eyes, remembering my sexless marriage. “It feels so great, I feel like a virgin again. Go on, fuck me good.”

When I opened my eyes again, Rita laid spread-eagled before me, her pussy invitingly alluring. I wasn’t going to wait for a written invitation. As I kissed her slightly swollen pussylips, a shiver ran down my spine to where Koos entered between my own lips. I opened my mouth slightly and pushed my tongue between her wet lips. The taste of her arousal and the touch of her soft thighs on my cheeks changed my understanding of the sacred. With every shove from Koos, my tongue entered deeper into the Holy of Holies. The curtain separating the Holy from the Holiest tore in two for me. For the first time in my life, I experienced the presence of Eros. 

“Your pussy-eating technique is improving, my dear,” complimented Rita. “But you still have a long way to go. Keep on munching.”

Koos must’ve hit a hidden trigger because the next thing I knew, I started shaking. I couldn’t keep my mouth on Rita and after what seemed like an eternity my arms and legs gave way. I collapse in a heap on top of Rita.

“I’m cumming,” screamed Koos behind me.

“Quick,” said Rita. “You haven’t lived unless a man shot his load on your tits and your girlfriend licks the cum off you.” She helped me up to kneel before Koos as he shot his seed on both our tits. Before the last shot, I grabbed his cock to taste the warm man juice into my mouth. I managed to swallow it. The taste shocked me at first, but after the second shot, I enjoyed the taste of the forbidden.

Rita applauded my effort and kissed my open mouth to taste her husband’s cum on my tongue. “Now lick him from my tits,” demanded Rita. The whole scene before me changed the moment I licked Koos’ sperm from his wife’s tits. Everything arose in my awareness. It was if I was the licker and the licked. Then everything went black.

Koos must have carried me to my room because when I awoke, I was tucked safely in my bed. What happened to me? Why did I black out? Hopefully, Rita would be able to shed some light on the situation. I quickly took a shower, dressed in a tracksuit, and set off to find my lovers. They were waiting for me in the dining hall, with dinner waiting for me.

“You scared us,” said Rita. “Get some food in your body and then we’ll talk.”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you about my past,” I said. “I was ashamed. My safe world collapsed forever when I licked my first pussy.”

“Welcome to the sisterhood,” said Rita, taking my hand in hers.

“It might be a bit too late for me, a fifty-year-old lady.”

 “Who said you’re too old?” asked Koos. “Looking at your hot body got Kosie’s attention.”

“You are just being polite,” I said. “Any man would get an erection looking at two naked women”

“Stop belittling yourself,” said Rita. “You’ve taken the first steps to honour Pussy and that’s all takes.”

“I would never be able to go back,” I said, not fully understanding what Rita meant. “But I miss Petra so much. I would love to go back in time to correct my mistake.” I finished my dinner and took the last sip of the wine. “I’ll pack my bags tonight and leave in the morning.” I got up to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Rita. “You're part of us now. We don’t kick out our lovers. Sit your ass down.”

“But the lodge is in financial trouble, and you cannot afford to keep me on staff any longer.”

“That is why we want to propose something to you,” said Koos. “We want you to turn the lodge into a nudist/swinger’s resort.”

“Whaaattt?”

“You’re a certified project manager and this could be your great opportunity to use that knowledge to secure a future for us all.”

“I know nothing of nudism or swingers and what they need or how it will help the lodge.”

“A PM should be able to do research before presenting a project charter with all the necessary inputs, tools and techniques, and the outputs,” added Rita. “Maybe Goddess will smile on you when you honour Pussy.”

“Are you sure you want me to do this?”

“Yes,” said Koos and Rita simultaneously.

“Then you can show people that a fifty-year-old can still rock their world,” said Rita as she kissed me.

“I will not disappoint you, I hope,” I said. I was grateful for the opportunity to stay on and finally shed my cocoon and become the butterfly I was destined to be.

Early the next morning, after I completed my hour yoga session, in the nude this time, I quickly prepared a breakfast in my kitchenette area of my small self-catering bungalow. It was liberating to do everything in the buff, the freedom of movement, no restrictive bra or panty to hamper my sexuality. I discovered the use of towels to sit on.

As usual, I went on my early morning drive in the lodge’s open game drive vehicle to inspect the waterholes and electrical fences. The wind played erotic games against my naked skin, caressing my hard nipples and uncovered pussy. A herd of Cape buffaloes moved slowly towards the near-empty waterhole as zebras and blue wildebeest vacated the area. We need to sell or cull the access animals as the feeding capacity of the area during the drought was much less.

The drought reminded me of the mythology a Demeter, the Greek goddess of fertility, whose daughter was kidnapped by Hades, the god of the underworld. She withheld her blessings on the earth until her daughter, Persephone, has been returned to her. Was she doing the same now? But who was her daughter today? Judging from my own experiences, I surmised all women who have denied their pussies were partly responsible for climate change. Big multinational corporations were the other culprits.

As I drove up to the lodge, I saw a car parked at the office. I didn’t know of any customers arriving today. After completing my status report, I walked to the office to see who the visitors were.

I knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

“Come in,” called Rita.

As I opened the door, I became aware of my state of dress. Before I could turn around, I saw Petra and her husband, Gert, staring at me, obviously shocked. They stood up to face me.

“Oops,” was my only response, and turned to leave.

Koos grabbed my arm to stop my escape. “Not so fast, Sandy. You have visitors and they need to see you as you are.”

I couldn’t make out what my ex-colleagues thought of my state of undress. Their eyes betrayed shock and then I saw a smile creeping in the corner of Petra’s mouth. Forcing my arms to relax that wanted to cover my boobs and pussy, I sat down next to Koos. Rita was still behind the desk.

“Sandy is turning the lodge into a nudist and swinger’s resort,” said Koos. “This is her dress code.”

“I am truly sorry for my reaction to your tattoo,” I said, trying to narrow the rejection gap between us. “I was a stupid fuck.”

“Watch your language, my friend,” said Petra. She stood up and kneeled before me. Last time she was naked, and I still had all my clothes on. “I was never angry with you. Just sad you had to go through all that rejection and humiliation. I am the one who has to apologise.”

“For opening my eyes and my pussy?” I opened my legs and kissed Petra on the mouth. “Thank you for giving me the freedom to be open.”

“This is all sweet and moving,” said Rita, “but we have invited Gert and Petra to help you set up the resort.”

“How can they help? They’re still pastors.”

“We’ve been swingers for ten years and nudist for eleven,” said Petra, still on her knees before me. “I wanted to make you part of our group since the beginning, but we knew your asshole of an ex would never have gone for it. When I showed you my tattoo, I wanted you to join us.” As she kissed my knees, her right hand slipped between my thighs to my pussy.

“We’re no longer in the church,” added Gert. “We have a sex therapy practice, trying to convince people about the power of the pussy.”

“I am grateful you tried last year and not before,” I said. “I wouldn’t have been ready earlier. I was too involved with my studies and with yoga. Sex didn’t feature in my plans, especially when Johan moved into his own separate room.”

“Shame,” said Koos sarcastically joking. “Sandy, go and show our guests their accommodation. Then you can catch up on all your lost fucking.”

How often does one get the opportunity to rewrite your story and correct mistakes you’ve made in the past? I wondered as I sashayed ahead of Petra and her husband, Gert, carrying their luggage, to show them their bungalow. I was conscious of every naked part of my exposed body, the swaying of my boobs, their hard nipples, my belly, and my naked backside. Most of all, I could feel the wetness seeping between my pussylips as a prelude to promises nobody made. But I needed to discover why they were here and if I would ever feature in their future.

“I must say, Sandy, you look comfortable in your own skin,” said Petra from behind. Suddenly my self-assured act disappeared as quickly as money into a politician’s pocket. This was only my second naked day and doubts filled my mind and body.

“I love those long naked legs and that wet pussylips,” said Gert, adding to my discomfort. For a crucial moment, their comments took my mind off the treacherous path ahead. We were still in Big Five country and with any lapse in concentration, you could become lunch or a statistic. The ‘kwê’ call of the Grey Go-Away-Bird warned me of danger ahead. A female hyena sauntered across our path, stopped, looked at me with a grin and what seemed like a shrug of her shoulders, continued on. My sudden stop caused Petra to walk into me, throwing me off balance. As I fell forward, she grabbed me from behind. As the hyena disappeared in the tall grass, I became aware of Petra’s hands on my boobs, playing with my nipples.

“What the fuck?” I said, turning around to face them. “We nearly ended in the powerful jaws of a hyena and you’re playing with my tits.”

“I always wanted to touch your beautiful ladies,” said Petra, while she continued caressing my breasts. My skin tingled at her touch, and I could feel my pussylips becoming more engorged, slowly leaking precious juice. The thumping of my heart and the warning voice in my head told me that we were still in danger.  

Then I kissed her. At first, our lips just touched. The surprise in Petra’s eyes put me in doubt. She played with my naked tits, but why would my kiss catch her off guard? When she opened her mouth and caressed my lips with her tongue, I knew my life would never be the same again. I embraced her, pushing my nakedness against her clothed body. I needed her touch more than I needed air.

“Get a room, you two,” said Gert. “It is still dangerous out here.” Reluctantly, I let go of her, turned around and hurried along the path, my emotions in turmoil. 

A few minutes later, we arrived at their thatched-roof bungalow under the shade of a huge fever tree. I needed time to calm down. I opened the door and showed them the cool interior with all the modern amenities. 

“I’ll give you some time to freshen up and meet you at the pool,” I said and turned to leave.

“No need to go,” said Petra as she stripped off her green sundress and threw it on the giant queen-sized bed. Her beautiful all-over tan confirmed her nudity lifestyle, made even more visible as she didn’t have any underwear on. Gert was also naked in a flash. My gaze settled on his impressive cock before I could shift it to Petra’s naked pussy.

“What happened to your tattoo?” I asked. Petra’s mound was smooth as a new leaf. Gone was the tuff of red hair and the tattoo ‘Lick me.’

“I didn’t dream that. Did I?”

“It was a stick-on tattoo to get you into action. It almost worked,” said Petra. Another punch in the gut. My best friend tried to seduce me, and I was too blinded by dogma to see outrageous love pouring from her. Would I let another opportunity slip through my fingers?

“Now show us your pad,” said Petra, as they hooked their naked arms into mine. The ease they displayed accepting me for who I was, helped me to relax while guiding them to my small bachelor’s bungalow.

My books on the wall-to-wall shelves overwhelmed the combined kitchenette, study and bedroom. Gert walked to the shelves and pulled out a book and showed it to Petra. She read the title: “A Return to Eros, by Marc Gafni. This is not Christian theology,” she said. “No wonder they kicked you out.”

“Are you judging me now?” I asked. “You fucked other people while still in church.”

“Look at this one,” said Gert. “Fuck like a Goddess, by Alexandra Roxo. Can you fuck like a goddess?”

“I haven’t had enough opportunities…’

“Is this your new bible?” asked Petra, taking the thick book from the shelf. “Tom Brown’s Field Guide: Living with the Earth.”

“Yes, when you make a mistake in nature, you die. When you make a mistake in society, they kill your spirit…”

“I love this one; Pussy, A reclamation,” said Gert. “I would like to claim your pussy.”

This was the first time anyone saw my books and commented on them. I felt embarrassed about my literary companions and the way people judge me and these trusted friends. I tried to defend my choice in books, but this wasn’t going to work.

“Please stop judging me. Go home to your swinging lifestyle and leave me alone.” They looked at me stunned.

“What are you talking about?” asked Petra. “We’re not judging you.” She shelved the book and came to stand naked before me. “I’m glad you didn’t become a recluse. You moved beyond the fucked-up dogmas.” As she stepped closer our tits touched and her hand cupped my pussy. “Do you like it when I touch you here?”

“Please...” I tried to pretend not to be aroused but when I felt Gert standing behind me, pushing his impressive manhood against my bum, my resolve disappeared.

“I am falling in love with your spirit,” he whispered in my ear. His hands found their way around my body between our tits to caress my boobs. Arousal flooded my body to prepare my pussy for some action.

Desire overwhelmed me as I pushed Petra onto my bed with her legs splayed open. Although the tattoo invitation, “Lick me” was removed, I now had the opportunity to do just that. I bent forward to get a better look at her beautiful pussy. Her protruding clit pointed to her shy, but puffy inner lips. I saw a glint of moisture between those lovely folds. This time I wanted a better taste of her essence. I needed to suck her love from deep within.

What I didn’t realise at that moment, my raised backside gave an explicit view of my pussy to Gert, until he stuck two fingers into my cunt.

“Throw your legs over to sit on my face,” instructed Petra, denying Gert and me any further pleasure. “I want to taste you while you lick me.” I did as she asked and found another aspect of my awakening sexuality. I loved the feel of her squashed tits against my lower body and mine crushed against hers.

Her clit looked different from above and I had to move forward to get my face between her legs. Petra asked Gert to put a cushion beneath her head to get better access to my pussy. When Petra sucked on my clit, I did the same with hers. As she swiped her tongue through my slit, I mimicked her actions. This was a wonderful way for me to be mentored by an expert in the art of cunnilingus. My competitive side raised its ugly head. When Petra sucked on one lip, I had to suck on both. When she twirled her tongue around my clit, I had to flick my tongue and twirled it around Petra’s clit. It also gave me the boost to try something else.

I wrapped my arms around her legs and spread her cunt lips with my fingers to get a better view of her inner sanctum. The pinkness contrasted with her tanned complexion, and I saw her hole for the first time. Removing the guardians of her entrance I had access to her secret tunnel. Inserting my tongue into that entrance my nose touched her backdoor. I experienced an overload of sensations; her tasty cunt juices, the smell of her clean hole and the touch of her body against mine drove me into a different zip code. I wondered what she saw in my pussy if my body was still desirable.

“Fuck, Sandy,” cried Petra between my legs, “what are you doing to me?” I couldn’t answer her for my mouth was too busy. But when Gert inserted his cock in my wet pussy while Petra licked my clit, I had to let go of my sexual sustenance to scream to the heavens. I closed my eyes as the assault on my pussy was too much for me and my whole body shook uncontrollably. My pussy muscles contracted around Gert’s cock sending him into an orgasm of his own, filling my cunt with his seed. My chin must’ve rubbed against Petra’s clit because she also experienced an orgasm. As Gert pulled out, Petra sucked his cum from my leaking pussy. The emptiness of my pussy was filled with contentment. Then an image of a beautiful naked woman smiling at me appeared. That was something I’ve never experienced while having sex with my ex, the few times we did. Then I saw her face and the woman was me. I was happy and that contentment flooded my whole being.  

The last thing I remembered before falling into a deep sleep was Petra and I cuddling Gert between us in a naked embrace.

 Sex at fifty gave me the freedom I never allowed myself under the strict dogma of my past. The nudist swingers club gave me the opportunity to explore my newfound liberty.