The Naked Smile

Literotic asexstories – The Naked Smile by stellanemryswild,stellanemryswild
Summary

The “O” series is tasteful, gentle, soft, artistic erotica unlike anything you have read. There’s no sex, yet it is completely sensual and erotic. They are the internal personal growth stories of women, who during unexpected dramatic events, experience an uninduced, spontaneous orgasm from their struggles’ culmination in a moment of extreme emotional intensity. If you can’t imagine an orgasm that goes on for pages, a blend of art, deep emotion, reflection, and the most erotic experience of a woman’s life (and maybe yours), you are in for a treat.

The Naked Smile is the story of Carolyn. Before her second year of college, shy and reserved Carolyn spends a summer month at her aunt’s house in a rural town in the south of France. Captivated by the sensual European culture, Carolyn experiments with letting go of her shyness by exploring her sensuality. Having just gotten out of the pool one beautiful warm day, she throws a dress over her body and bikes toward town. Enjoying the sensations from the gentle breeze all over her body, she decides to let go of her shyness and smile at a local French woman. The warm smiles that end up being exchanged between them overwhelm her, and she experiences personal growth in a blissful, shared smile she’ll never forget.

This is the third of the “O” series and is exceptionally warm, tender, and positive. There’s no sex, no men, and the focus is again on a woman’s internal experience. Emotions and themes include positive and uplifting energy, venturing out into sensual exploration, sensual exploration by a college student, overcoming shyness, personal growth, gentle bliss, kindness, and complete warm-hearted acceptance. The story contains a 12-page-long orgasm. This short story is a work of fiction with sensitive content for adults only.

The Naked Smile

By Stellan Emrys Wild

Carolyn woke to the sunlight glistening off her walls and birds chirping outside. Her first thought was a delicious reminder that she had decided to sleep nude last night. It was one of her first times doing so, inspired by the adventure of being in her aunt’s country villa in a small town in the south of France. She’d just finished her first year of college, and what a change for this 19-year-old, going from a tacky, loud American university town, to the adorable, rustic French countryside.

Staying in France for a month was the most interesting experience Carolyn had ever known. She had always been very shy and reserved. Quiet. She was not expressive, in her voice or her face, having grown up afraid to be her true self. She was even shy about smiling amongst her American peers. When she smiled socially, it was usually a fake or poor attempt at a smile. She herself wondered if it was a shyness she never grew out of or a lingering self-consciousness about imperfect teeth. She had gotten her braces put on late at 16 and only off at 18 after starting college last year.

But it ran much deeper than that. Deep down inside, she was afraid of not being accepted if she let out her natural expressiveness.

Part of her always felt that being “cool” and in control was the way to be. This was obviously some type of self-protection mechanism, but she couldn’t rationalize her way out of it. She rarely showed enthusiasm, afraid that her feelings, openness, and trust would be betrayed. Her parents were strict and involved, so she always felt like they were looking over her shoulder ready to judge her. She wondered if, due to their constant criticality, she never learned to let go.

Carolyn often felt jealous of her friends who had animated faces and bold expressions, all thoughtlessly reflecting their emotions. She noticed their completely genuine micro-gestures, unhindered by self-consciousness or fear of looking goofy or silly. Watching some of her peers’ faces as they were having a conversation was a show of smirks, winces, excited and funny faces, and open-mouthed expressiveness. For her to let go like that was much more of a conscious and thoughtful effort. She sometimes tried to break out of her shyness, but it rarely came off as natural, which made her even more afraid of judgment.

Being in France was interesting because the people here were very warm and friendly. Their expressiveness was to a completely different, European standard. The noises people made when they greeted each other were completely different than in America: “yoooohooo!” as two ladies greeted each other in a restaurant or the exclamation when a waitress dropped her dishes, “opah!” and such, were completely different than American standards she was used to. If the American standard was the “cool” standard, then the French standard was far more unabashed and absent of self-consciousness she saw in the American social norms. At the same time, the French seemed to be a warmer, happier, more expressive people, at least in this cozy little French town.

Carolyn was fascinated to see the contrast, though she never thought she could be so expressive. She had always wanted that part of her personality to flow naturally, but she was too self-conscious, too thoughtful, too introverted, introspective, and nervous. She felt like her parents were always critical of her, even when they were not there. This wasn’t even just in her big things like her school or her studies. It was everything, from what she was wearing, to how she spoke, to how she said hello, to how she ate in restaurants.

She was very excited to be in France visiting her aunt for the first time, having heard many stories about France from her family growing up. Getting away from that stressful home life the summer would offer to a completely new and different world in France with different customs, and different people with different natures right down to their cores gave her a taste of being completely free of judgment. Her aunt wasn’t critical in the same way, and allowed her to be very free, offering her only kindness and encouragement for however she chose to spend her month-long visit.

The house where Carolyn was staying was a rustic farmhouse-style chateau as they called it, and absolutely delightful. It wasn’t the same as American standards. The stone was cracked along one wall of the house, but it had apparently been that way for over 100 years, and bore a certain charm, with ivy growing artfully in the crevasse. This week, her aunt was away in Paris on business for three days and had left her completely alone. Ah the joy of having the entire place to herself. The best part, of course, was the swimming pool.

Because of Carolyn’s newly inspired exploration of personal freedoms, she had been thinking of sleeping nude for several the past several nights. She had once heard that many Europeans sleep nude, and this was the perfect excuse to try it. She needed an excuse to try it at first. Maybe it was something about the air or the European vibe. Two nights ago, she had tried it for the first time. While she was initially afraid of being caught, she decided to accept the risk, figuring it was a different country and nobody knew her. She immediately fell in love with the sensations. The comforter and sheets felt divine. She couldn’t believe sleeping nude was legal it felt so delightful and freeing!

As her thirst for sensual adventure grew, she had been increasingly thinking of swimming nude in the pool. The first time it crossed her mind, while having dinner with her aunt, her first thought was “OMG, I wouldn’t dare.” A few days of swimming in a bathing suit later, she couldn’t wait for her aunt to be out of the house, so she could try it.

Yesterday for the first time ever, with nobody around the property, she tried swimming in the nude and was instantly enamored. The water felt like silk all over her body. She couldn’t believe the sensations! Of course, it was a private pool on more than two acres of wooded property with multiple driveways. The property was well-covered with trees and bushes, so nobody could see. There was at least another acre of woods between her aunt’s house and the nearest country road.

Still, it felt a bit rebellious and adventurous, making her very excited by it all. As she stretched between her comforter and sheets in the nude, she enjoyed the feeling of the cotton on her soft skin, and slowly pushed her wavy blonde hair out of her face. She felt a sense of amazing joy and couldn’t wait to have another nude swim in the pool. The excitement she felt superseded and drowned out any fears or concerns. She still knew the same risks were there, she just didn’t care, figuring she’d just deal with the situation if it arose then. After staying cozy in bed for a few more minutes, she got up and threw a feather-light pink summer dress over her body that she found hanging in the closet. After having a cup of coffee in the kitchen as the French do, she headed out to the pool.

She almost skipped as she embarked down the hallway toward the back door to the pool patio. As she opened it, the beautiful warm summer air hit her immediately. The rustic pool built into an old stone patio was surrounded by trees and shrubbery in every direction. Off to the left, there was a nice sized lawn and a dirt and gravel road next to it which became one of the driveways. Around the pool, trees let the sunshine sparkle through their leaves, lighting up the shimmering surface of the beautiful pool. Knowing she was safe and completely alone, she immediately whipped off the dress in one move and gracefully laid down on a comfy canvas lounge, excited to be sunbathing nude. She consciously kept her knees together to be ultra-ladylike as she did it, for her own amusement.

Carolyn spoke to herself playfully in a French accent, as though she could step into being a different European woman in a European culture and sidestep all her American shyness about being nude. She said to herself smilingly, “anz zis pool iz all yours, mademoiselle, if ze lady would please enjoy”, and then she laughed to herself. She even giggled out loud a little.

She didn’t know what came over her. She had never gone nude before. Now, she was stark, raving buck, laying on a lounge outside in the open air on her aunt’s pool patio — not even in her own house no less.

She was always curious about other women who slept nude or sunbathed nude or went swimming nude. She thought it was the most sensual, exciting thing a person could do. She was enthralled by the idea that many mature, intelligent, young women had a preference for not wearing pajamas or bathing suits. She thought about how sunbathing and swimming nude was completely and perfectly respectable. She thought about the mature, intelligent women who would engage in such recreation and otherwise leading completely normal and respectable lives. It was simply how they chose to sunbathe and swim. She wondered how they could be confident at school or work after having slept nude the night before, and wondered if it was even empowering and the sensuality actually added to their confidence. The idea was fascinating.

She had read that a highly respected actress had mentioned in an interview that she chose to swim in her pool in the buff, and she imagined most highly respected and educated women justifying it purely for health and practicality reasons. “It’s perfectly legitimate,” she told herself, “for reasons of personal freedom, enjoying the breeze, letting go of daily stressors, to sunbathe in the nude.” She told herself it wasn’t even scandalous, even though she did find it sensual and thrilling that she was laying her beautifully tender pale skin out in the sunshine “completely bare.”

She lay there for quite a while, sparring with the idea of allowing a big natural smile to come over her face as she allowed the sun to warm her. Gentle warm waves flowed through her and it felt nice. This was her vacation, and she was going to fully enjoy it. She was going to be like those women she admired, enjoying a free and sensual lifestyle. It was exciting and daring, and she was going to go right ahead and enjoy.

There was something very sensual about the entire town. She got the sense from the European vibe that if anybody had known that she was sunbathing nude, it would be perfectly understood and respected as normal when you have your own private pool. Some people are like that in America, but many American women would wear a full bathing suit even when they were alone in a fully private pool.

At this point, she thought that sounded silly and sheltered, as she felt the sun and the gentle breeze caressing the entirety of her skin. It felt absolutely delicious. And she imagined then, so would a swim be. She was delaying going into the pool for the sole reason that she was letting herself build up the excitement. She wondered how she would go in. Would she dive in and experience flying in nude head first? Would she go in slowly walking as the picture of relaxed carefree luxury? Or, would she do a silly dance for the 12 feet or so between the lounge where she was and the stone pool steps, letting go of qualms about being silly while nude? Oh, how to enjoy it, she pondered. The question seemed to have endless possibilities, each more delightful than the next.

There was a time when she didn’t think she would dare swim nude in a pool for risk of being caught. There was a time when she didn’t think she would dare sunbathe nude. What if somebody came in the middle of the night! What if there was a fire alarm or an emergency! The risk of being caught was too scary. However, over time, she became curious about what actually would happen in such a scenario. Submersed in the European experience, she was able to step out of such concerns. Then, as she slowly considered her fear of such happening but did it anyway, her conquests actually turned into a feeling of elation.

She felt like, if she were ever caught unexpectedly at the pool by her aunt, she would just give a pre-prepared excuse like, “I didn’t think there would be anyone here, and my bathing suit was uncomfortable.” Eventually, she wondered whether even saying anything at all would be necessary, as she eventually came around to the view that a mature French woman would certainly understand a young lady’s choice to sunbathe and swim in a private pool with nothing on.

As the breeze stroked her blonde hair, and she became aware of having a nice coat of sweat on her body, she decided that she would go in for a dip. She ended up walking to the pool in a silly little effeminate hop from one leg to another while waving her arms above her head, making art out of her body’s experience. It was the playful, silly choice that finally won out by being the most thoughtless one. It was only twelve feet or so to the pool steps, and she enjoyed the little trek immensely. Going in, to her own surprise, she let out a soft coo as the lukewarm water enveloped her legs, thighs, torso and chest. She eased in and leaned into a soft breaststroke, smiling. And that was genuine.

There was something empowering and exciting about what she was doing. She enjoyed her gentle dip in the sun-warmed pool and her blissful breaststroke across, gently gliding through the water which caressed her all over. She swam to the far edge of the pool, and back again enjoying every stroke through the warm water. One lap was enough for a quick dip, she then reasoned, and relaxed by the step for a moment, taking a deep breath.

She calmly walked up the steps and slowly walked back and laid back down on the lounge. It was the absolute perfect day, she thought, as a stream of pool-water from a strand of her hair ran down her cheek and neck. She wondered what she was going to do today besides this, if anything. She looked up at the beautiful sky and the way the sunlight came through the trees, and she was in complete, relaxed bliss. This first year of college had been challenging, but she had managed to stay away from the bad elements of partying, drinking, the wrong type of boys, and so on. She didn’t have much interest in that, preferring to read, look at art, go to museums, and otherwise enjoy more refined and subdued aspects of life.

As the sun and warm breeze caressed her now even more sensitive body air-drying in the complete open, she wondered who was nearby in the neighborhood and what was going on in town.

She looked over at the side wall of the house, where there was a yellow country bicycle with a front basket leaning against it that she had ridden around the property the other day. When she first arrived, she thought the bike looked corny. It wasn’t a cool, modern mountain bike, but an old-style bike with no gears, like one that someone in the last century would have ridden. As she enjoyed laying there, she began to let go of such judgments and began to fantasize about how amazing it would feel to ride the bike, with the breeze all over her body. Maybe the fact that it was a dorky bike would be even more exciting. She would have to brave that dorkiness and rise above it. She wondered if she could do so confidently.

She couldn’t help but think about trying to ride the bike nude and what that would feel like. Or perhaps, riding almost nude with just that light summer dress on. She fantasized about riding it around the block, around the neighborhood, or even to town about half a mile away. She fantasized about going to the store and laughed to herself. The thoughts teased her until the idea was thrilling and soon irresistible. She decided she would get up, and try riding the bike and see how it felt.

She threw her airy, light pink dress over her barely dry body, slipped into a pair of minimalist black flip-flops by the door, and hopped onto the bike. She grabbed the handlebars, pushed down on the forward pedal, and started rolling along the lawn slowly, down the rocky dirt road, and toward the front gate of the property.

As soon as she started moving, the breeze gently blew across her face, her arms, her shoulders, her feet, her legs, and her thighs, feeling amazing. Her eyes widened. The most exciting part was the breeze blowing upward under her dress, separating her dress from her otherwise nude body. In the most delightful surprise, the dress was very large and loose for her size, and it was so light that, as she rode the bike, the gentle breeze indeed fully raised it off her skin, leaving several inches of freedom between her and the dress.

While the bottom of the hem stayed almost down by her knees, the rest was separate from her body, puffed up and fully inflated with air.

She strode a couple of pedal-lengths with the bike, taking immediate interest in the curious phenomenon. Upon looking downward as she rode, she could clearly see inside the wide dress neckline to her own breasts, her abdomen, her thighs, and her entire body from chest to her toes in all its naked splendor. Essentially, she was riding the bike completely nude, and the dress was merely floating around her, keeping a significant distance away from her nude body.

She stopped again as she was getting closer to the road, and said “wait a minute” to herself. She wondered if she could ride near the gate like that, as there might be someone at the road. She wondered if other people could see what she is experiencing. Her thoughts were a blend of fear, worry, excitement, and wanting to ensure she would appear decent.

She rode another a few pedal-lengths, and again, the dress came away from her body, whenever she sat on the seat or stood up on the pedals and pedaled forward some more. It was the same phenomenon. When she stood on the pedals, the movement freed her back, thighs, and buttocks completely, as the dress was completely free-floating. Whether she sat or stood up, riding the bike, even at a slow speed, completely inflated her dress and lifted it off her body. It felt absolutely delectable!

“Can other people see?” she wondered. The dress was super light, airy, very thin, and completely at the mercy of the wind. A couple of times, with stronger gusts of wind, she wondered whether it would actually lift upward over body or even over her head, but the hem line was very good at staying around her knees. The rest of the silky material floated around her the way a weightless paper-thin plastic bag might float on air.

As she rode the next few yards, she looked down at her body to try to imagine what someone else’s perspective would be. It felt amazing, but she wanted to make sure she was not exposed. She looked up at the road and then back down at her body repeatedly, trying to see whether she was decent to other people she may encounter as she grew closer and closer to the road. She checked carefully, and she realized that, with the top of her dress a few inches away from her collar bones and the bottom of the dress down by her knees, to everyone else’s vantage point, she was simply a girl riding a bike, wearing an airy, puffed-up dress. They could not see her nude. To all others, she would appear completely clad and unremarkable.

She pushed her flip-flopped foot downward, peddling a little faster to test it. While the dress inflated more powerfully, looking down she could see herself completely naked, to everyone else, she was simply a girl simply riding a bike, fully clad in a pink summer dress.

The feeling, though, was amazing. If she closed her eyes, it felt like she was riding her bike completely naked in the warm summer breeze, with warm gentle breezes blowing up, all around, and anywhere and everywhere. This was her new favorite toy.

She wondered if she dared ride out onto the road but couldn’t resist trying it. She felt a rush of excitement at the thought of going out into the world a little as an adventure. She rode the full 50 yards or so to the road, at first thinking she could turn around and go back at any time. When she reached the road, there was nobody around though. The quiet road was more meant for people walking than cars, and she had seen people walking from this area to town before, as it was only about a quarter mile away.

The beautiful country road was lined across the street with cute French summer villas of stone and various orange, peach, and beige colors. On her side were the woods along her aunt’s property. There were gardens and trees all along the other side of the street, making the rural countryside scene charming and inviting. Some gardens were manicured, and some houses were decorated with beautiful yellow and white flowers.

It was too nice to turn back. She craved riding down the garden-lined road to see how it felt. She told herself that she would just go one block to the right, and turn back to her aunt’s property at the next driveway.

After looking in both directions several times and seeing nobody and no cars, she turned right at the driveway corner onto the cute little country street.

Birds were chirping beautifully on the quiet street, and occasionally the warm breeze would blow and softly sway the trees. The smell of raw lilies and jasmine filled the country air. The architecture was so cute. Each house had its own unique charm, and its own garden. The houses were not new, but each one a different rustic stone. She noticed butterflies upon butterflies all over the flowers and road-adjacent gardens, sun-drenched from the mid-day sun. A ladybug on a leaf caught her eye. A bumblebee buzzed around some purple flowers near the road, as she rode up onto the sidewalk to be closer to the beautiful flowers. Her blonde hair gentle waved and flowed, parting around her face with ease. Her body felt amazing under her dress enjoying the breeze, and the most relaxing and carefree mood came over her.

As she pedaled toward the next house, passing cute little gardens along the way, there was a lovely-looking French woman, a neighbor, out in her garden by her front step. The woman was squatting down near some plants in her little garden on the other side of a little white fence with plants growing through it. She’d seen this woman several times before, now wearing worn denim overalls, slippers, and holding a small shovel in her hand.

Carolyn recognized the woman. She’d seen her through the rolled-down window of her aunt’s car while riding by. She didn’t know her name, but she’d always been someone who had smiled and waved hello to them, and apparently knew her aunt. Carolyn wondered whether the woman knew she was an American. She assumed the woman knew she was staying with her aunt across the street, but did not know whether she knew she was from America, or assumed from Paris perhaps. Everyone in the town seemed to know each other, but she didn’t know if her aunt had spoken with her recently.

Carolyn was curious as to how her bicycling adventure would appear to a real-life spectator. She rode toward the woman and wondered nervously if she would have any reaction, obviously hoping the flamboyance activities of her dress would go unnoticed.

The very French-looking brunette with curly dark hair barely staying up in a ponytail noticed Caroline right away. She was about 28, but that’s far more mature in French years than American, Caroline remembered, noting again the fascinating nature of French social demeanor. Immediately, the woman’s eyes lit up, and her face became excited, her cheeks rising in a way that was very European. Not many Americans were so animated.

As soon as the woman saw Caroline riding toward her, she broke into a beaming smile that hit Carolyn instantly. Carolyn’s initial thought upon seeing the French woman’s big, bright smile was, “What? For me?” Carolyn felt graciously welcomed by this smiling woman, who seemed to either not notice or not care what her dress was doing. The woman just seemed pleased to see a pretty, young lady riding her bike in the neighborhood, and show her friendliness.

Carolyn saw the French woman’s smile and immediately let out a little smile right back, while riding toward her in her garden, but it was not enough. Carolyn’s immediate response of a slight smile couldn’t compete with this woman’s beautiful, wide, stunning, ear-to-ear, 10,000-watt European smile, void of American notions of silliness and goofiness. The smile was so big and bright that it warmed Carolyn all over. She literally felt like she was being bathed by this woman’s smile, soothing and comforting Carolyn’s entire being.

Carolyn was in a tug of war between thinking this woman was wearing such a dorky grin and, regardless, feeling its tender embrace in a way that made her not care about being dorky at all. In a moment, the feeling of the French woman’s smile was overwhelming, and any cares of how silly it looked sailed away.

The warm sensations from the French neighbor’s smile somehow combined with the warm, gentle winds blowing up Carolyn’s dress. The smile felt like pure kindness while the warm breeze softly caressed Carolyn all over her naked body underneath her floating dress, from her blushing face and blowing hair to all over her entire body, chest, arms, stomach, hips, thighs, and all the way down to her toes. Feeling both vulnerable and having that vulnerability met with the kindest warmth and security, Carolyn was being denuded both physically and emotionally at the same time.

Carolyn felt tempted to give this woman back the biggest and boldest smile she’d ever shined upon anyone. Partly, she felt a natural instinct to return the friendliness, and partly, she felt a new and playful adventurous competitiveness emerging in her.

She didn’t know if she could compete with such a smile from such a genuine, friendly European woman without a hint of self-consciousness. If this 28-ish-year-old woman was going to give her a humbling warm bath just by smiling at her, then she would give as good as she was getting, and was going to give this nice lady the same in return. In the flurry of the beautiful scene, Carolyn decided she would return to this woman the biggest, boldest, widest smile she could muster. If this woman didn’t care her own smile was so big and bold, then maybe she would not think it goofy if Carolyn smiled back at her just as broadly.

Carolyn felt fearless, perhaps undeterred due to the breeze caressing her body so sensually, turning the experience into thrilling excitement and euphoria. “Who cares what this woman might think if my smile looks dorky”, Carolyn reasoned to herself. She didn’t know this woman and wouldn’t probably ever see her again after two more weeks. It was the perfect excuse to do something adventurous.

She was doing something daring, going “European” with her smile, as she thought of it. She reminded herself that the different culture gave her the perfect excuse to let go of her shyness; the French didn’t understand the American norms she was shy about violating like they didn’t know of her self-consciousness. After going European by sleeping nude, going European by sunbathing nude, and going European by swimming nude in the pool, she decided it would be exciting to give this gardening woman the brightest, most gleaming, most unadulterated smile she had probably never shined on anyone in her life.

And it was only fair for what she was receiving. After all, she felt like this lovely French woman’s smile was literally warming her heart it was so stunning. Carolyn’s newfound attitude was made of enjoyment, playfulness, and a little hint of competitive. If this lovely woman was going to make her feel like she’s in a warm bath, Carolyn would see if she could do the same right back. Fair is fair.”

As she rode closer, despite her rising excitement, Carolyn proceeded to let go of her Americanized notions of silliness and dorkiness and let spread across her mouth the widest, cheesiest, carefree smile she could summon. She figured, worst case scenario, this woman might think she was wearing a really goofy grin, but so what? For some reason, this decision to let go of this aspect of her shyness was exhilarating, and she was all in and going for it.

And boy did this woman notice Carolyn’s big, brazen smile. As Carolyn closed within a few yards and just across a cute little white fence, slowly pedaling her way towards the French woman, the woman stood up in her garden, small hand shovel in hand, just to even more broadly and brightly smile back at Carolyn. Many people in America are too cool to stand up just to smile and acknowledge a neighbor passing by. Many neighbors don’t even say hello unless you really get their attention. But these were rural European standards. Here, in the south of France, apparently there was nothing uncool about standing up just to warmly greet and smile at a neighbor passing by.

The French woman began to beam at Carolyn with a smile now twice as wide, twice as bright — a huge, gleaming, 20,000-watt smile that made Carolyn feel like the French woman was cradling her entire heart and soul. Carolyn felt from this woman’s smile the most warm-hearted, kind, and accepting embrace. Carolyn felt herself welcomed like the innocent young woman she was, enjoying a summer in the south of France. Riding her dorky yellow country bike down her country road in her pretty pink dress and flip-flops on this quiet summer mid-day, her presence was received as a pretty and welcome sight. Carolyn felt smiled-upon like a dear friend in a touching, shared moment.

The gentle wind was caressing Carolyn all over her nude body softly and powerfully at the same time. The gentle waves were turning into sensual, soft electricity that flowed through every inch of her body, being penetrated by each air-soft fluctuation that came over her. The breeze felt like vibrations of sensuality; like numbing, tingling and invigorating sensuality that flowed not just over her skin but through her body in the most feminine and sensual way. Carolyn felt delight as the assortment of tantalizing, electric waves softly flowed through her arms, legs, breasts, thighs, torso, pelvis, and through her womanhood on the deepest level. As all these sensations were emerging, she couldn’t even begin to consciously process them all.

At the same time, the French woman’s warm smile made her feel like she was gently splashing in a warm bath of kindness. Time seemed to slow, and her eyes glazed over as she slowly pedaled her bike toward the smiling French woman in what seemed like slow motion. Time completely stopped for all Carolyn knew.

Between the swirling of the sensations in her body from the gentle, caressing, sensual breeze, and the woman’s unrelentingly enchanting smile, Carolyn lost her awareness of where one sensation ended and another began. Her mind drifted away in pure bliss, simply enjoying the experience, pleasure, and excitement of the shared exchange of glistening smiles.

In Carolyn’s half-dream state, she became aware that the delightful, warm sensations were going through every facet of her womanhood. Her sensations were warmly melting into her womanhood, and her womanhood was melting into the sensations helplessly. She began to realize the sensations were deeply erotic, and had merged from soft caressing breeze, into tantalizing pressure, into a gently growing spontaneous orgasm emanating throughout her womanhood. By the time she consciously understood the culmination of sensations she was experiencing, she realized she had already crossed the threshold and was fully orgasming, from her heavenly-feeling womanhood, and radiating mercilessly.

Carolyn basked in a tantalizing blend of being stunned, confused, surprised, and carefree all at the same time. She was only partially able to formulate the presence of mind to even process it. She went from not even knowing such a thing could happen to realizing it was happening to her right now, not that she had any wherewithal to offer resistance anyway. In her glossy-eyed, blissful slow-motion sail down the sidewalk, she realized she was completely helpless, as the orgasm grew continually stronger inside her.

Her face flushed as she tried to conjure the presence of mind to think for a split second about what, if anything, she should do. While maintaining eye contact and her smile with the woman, she wondered: Should she turn around? Should she stop riding? Should she stop smiling? Should she break eye contact? Should she look down? She instantly knew all of these things would look odd, if not rude.

The most innocuous thing to do would be to just keep biking along, and let whatever nature does to her have its way with her. In a split second, Carolyn realized her best and only option, despite the orgasm now overcoming every fiber of her being, was to continue looking this smiling French woman in her kind eyes, and continue giving her right back the biggest, brightest, warmest smile she could.

Carolyn boldly decided she wasn’t going to shy away from this adventure. Not this time. What she thought would be a quick ride to the corner, and then a smile, had now turned into facing a face-to-face, full-intensity thrill ride. She now had no choice but to give this now-standing woman her biggest, warmest smile while riding her bike right towards her, right as the warm electric breeze mercilessly danced all over the totality of her nude, intensely-orgasming body.

Her heart was racing. What if this woman realized she is naked under her dress? What if this woman realized she is having an orgasm? What if she couldn’t pull off a big smile without looking awkward?

This moment was more exciting than any she ever dared contemplate. Simply smiling broadly at a woman would have been daring enough for the shy and reserved young woman she had always been. Looking this lady in the eyes and smiling at her, while her naked body was flying through the breeze having a womanhood-melting orgasm, was both the most pleasurable and most heart-pounding thrill of a lifetime.

Carolyn couldn’t believe what was happening, but she had no other choice. Breaking eye contact or stopping smiling while the nice lady was giving such a big smile would have broken the beautiful, warm energy being shared. Carolyn did not want, for once, to be the woman who shied away from life. Her only option to “pull this off” was to break free from her self-imposed bounds entirely. Her only option was to go all in and continue to enjoy this lovely, shared smile between two women on this beautiful, warm summer day, fully and completely.

The pleasure of it all melted away any fears and shyness. Her only course was to feel no shame about her predicament, nakedness, or orgasm, and genuinely smile upon this woman with all the open lovingness and purity in her heart. She told herself, “just let go completely and enjoy…I dare you!”

And that’s exactly what she did. Carolyn let go of all her concerns in the entire world, about her nipples tingling, about her buttocks gently fluttering, about breeze titillating her most sensitives, and about the orgasm zinging through her womanhood in unimaginable waves of deep delight, as she continued to slowly pedal, nearing the smiling French woman.

She looked even deeper into the French woman’s gracious, welcoming eyes and proceeded to beam her absolute, brightest, warmest, cheesiest ear-to-ear grin, as her loins’ ecstasy exploded like delicate fireworks. She bravely allowed her mouth and cheeks to widen even further into the biggest smile she could give, in full appreciation of this lovely lady. She allowed her smile to stretch from ear to ear, cheeks expanding to her ears, and when she felt her smile was completely its widest, she allowed it to go even wider. She smiled at this French woman, with all her teeth, with her eyes, and with all her heart, giving her what felt like the warmest and most loving, gleaming smile back, no regard for the fact that her orgasm was completely overwhelming her in that moment, fully resonating through every muscle and nerve in her body.

The moment she decided to surrender to the sensations and smile, an incredible resonating mixture flowed through every inch of her. She was along for the ride, helpless. She let go of all her self-consciousness, cares, and concerns, and had no choice but to let herself do exactly that….enjoy.

As Carolyn slowly pedaled within a few feet of the French woman…

(Continued…)