Naughty Ergowear Bikini Story from New Orleans
Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2026 1:34 am
About fifteen years ago, when I lived in New Orleans, I discovered a place called The Country Club. It was a clothing-optional pool with great brunches, cold drinks, and an atmosphere that made you forget the rest of the world existed. I used to take long lunches there whenever I could. Most days, the pool was nearly empty, which made it the perfect place to stretch out in the sun wearing nothing more than a bikini or skimpy underwear. This was back in the days of International Male, Undergear, and ABC Underwear—long before the seemingly endless selection of men's swimwear and underwear available online today. I loved the freedom of it. There was something incredibly sensual about lounging around in almost nothing, watching women confidently go topless or wear tiny thongs, while guys wandered around in equally revealing swimwear. Nobody seemed embarrassed. Nobody seemed to care. It was simply accepted.
One Friday, I had the whole afternoon off, so I decided to make a day of it. I'd recently bought my first bikini swimsuit from Ergowear X4D—a royal-blue one with incredibly narrow sides. I remember feeling a little self-conscious putting it on, but once I got to the pool, that feeling quickly disappeared. There was a couple in the pool, probably about ten years older than me. We started chatting casually, and they seemed genuinely friendly. They were from the Gulf Coast, and after a few drinks, the conversation became increasingly relaxed. The woman was attractive, confident, and very affectionate, I thought it was a Southern thing. At first, it was nothing more than a hand on my shoulder while she talked. Then she noticed my swimsuit. She laughed and commented on how impossibly skinny the sides were. She asked if I was basically wearing a thong. I laughed and told her it was pretty close. She seemed fascinated by it. As we talked, her fingers began casually brushing along the side of the suit. It was playful at first, almost teasing, but there was something unmistakably deliberate about it when she would slid her finger in-between the fabric and my skin. Her husband was sitting nearby, watching us with a relaxed smile. I wasn't quite sure what to make of any of it. But I knew I liked the attention. It had been a long time since I'd felt that kind of interest from someone.
The afternoon continued that way—drinks, swimming, conversation, laughter. Every time I thought the flirting might be over, she'd touch me again. Her hand would linger on my shoulder. She'd move closer when she talked. Eventually, we were standing so close in the pool that our bodies were pressed together. I loved the feel of her topless body against me. Then she kissed my neck. I was kinda in shock. I looked over at her husband thinking he was gonna want to fight. But he was smiling. That was when I realized he wasn't surprised by any of this. If anything, he seemed perfectly comfortable watching it unfold. So I kissed her. She kissed me back. We were standing together in the pool, wrapped up in each other, completely absorbed in the moment. The alcohol, the warm New Orleans afternoon, the water, and the awareness that people around us could see exactly what was happening all seemed to blur together.
Then I felt a hand slide inside my waistband and move toward the front, briefly touching me and then gently squeezing my manhood. Those squeezes turned into long strokes that picked up speed. I kissed her harder, completely caught up in the moment. Then I opened my eyes. It wasn't her hand. It was her husband's. For a second, I was stunned. He simply smiled and moved his hand away, and she took over, pulling me back into the kiss and replaced his hand with hers as though nothing unusual had happened, continuing to stroke as I was pretty much busting out of the front of my bikini until she finished me off. It was pretty hot knowing that there were a lot of people watching this happen but couldn't really tell underneath the surface of the pool.
What made the whole thing even more intense was knowing we weren't alone. Other people were around the pool. Some were talking, some were drinking, and some were clearly watching us. And somehow, that awareness made everything feel even more electric. I'd gone to The Country Club that Friday expecting nothing more than an afternoon in the sun, a few drinks, and a chance to swear my Ergowear bikini. I certainly hadn't expected to become the center of attention for a couple I'd met that afternoon. New Orleans has a way of turning an ordinary Friday into a story you remember for the rest of your life.
One Friday, I had the whole afternoon off, so I decided to make a day of it. I'd recently bought my first bikini swimsuit from Ergowear X4D—a royal-blue one with incredibly narrow sides. I remember feeling a little self-conscious putting it on, but once I got to the pool, that feeling quickly disappeared. There was a couple in the pool, probably about ten years older than me. We started chatting casually, and they seemed genuinely friendly. They were from the Gulf Coast, and after a few drinks, the conversation became increasingly relaxed. The woman was attractive, confident, and very affectionate, I thought it was a Southern thing. At first, it was nothing more than a hand on my shoulder while she talked. Then she noticed my swimsuit. She laughed and commented on how impossibly skinny the sides were. She asked if I was basically wearing a thong. I laughed and told her it was pretty close. She seemed fascinated by it. As we talked, her fingers began casually brushing along the side of the suit. It was playful at first, almost teasing, but there was something unmistakably deliberate about it when she would slid her finger in-between the fabric and my skin. Her husband was sitting nearby, watching us with a relaxed smile. I wasn't quite sure what to make of any of it. But I knew I liked the attention. It had been a long time since I'd felt that kind of interest from someone.
The afternoon continued that way—drinks, swimming, conversation, laughter. Every time I thought the flirting might be over, she'd touch me again. Her hand would linger on my shoulder. She'd move closer when she talked. Eventually, we were standing so close in the pool that our bodies were pressed together. I loved the feel of her topless body against me. Then she kissed my neck. I was kinda in shock. I looked over at her husband thinking he was gonna want to fight. But he was smiling. That was when I realized he wasn't surprised by any of this. If anything, he seemed perfectly comfortable watching it unfold. So I kissed her. She kissed me back. We were standing together in the pool, wrapped up in each other, completely absorbed in the moment. The alcohol, the warm New Orleans afternoon, the water, and the awareness that people around us could see exactly what was happening all seemed to blur together.
Then I felt a hand slide inside my waistband and move toward the front, briefly touching me and then gently squeezing my manhood. Those squeezes turned into long strokes that picked up speed. I kissed her harder, completely caught up in the moment. Then I opened my eyes. It wasn't her hand. It was her husband's. For a second, I was stunned. He simply smiled and moved his hand away, and she took over, pulling me back into the kiss and replaced his hand with hers as though nothing unusual had happened, continuing to stroke as I was pretty much busting out of the front of my bikini until she finished me off. It was pretty hot knowing that there were a lot of people watching this happen but couldn't really tell underneath the surface of the pool.
What made the whole thing even more intense was knowing we weren't alone. Other people were around the pool. Some were talking, some were drinking, and some were clearly watching us. And somehow, that awareness made everything feel even more electric. I'd gone to The Country Club that Friday expecting nothing more than an afternoon in the sun, a few drinks, and a chance to swear my Ergowear bikini. I certainly hadn't expected to become the center of attention for a couple I'd met that afternoon. New Orleans has a way of turning an ordinary Friday into a story you remember for the rest of your life.