Shameless

A collection by P.A. Choi

Copyright 2022 P.A. Choi

Cover design by P.A. Choi.

Table of Contents

Big Boobs and Bangers

The Naked Race

Naked Pizza

The Naked Storm

The Naked Festival

The Naked Lounge 2

About P.A. Choi

Big Boobs and Bangers

Nestled in the corner of a small shopping center in a small part of town, isolated next to a hair salon and a thrift shop and a larger, fancier restaurant that separates the lot from the upper terrace with more frequented restaurants and businesses, is a little, unassuming pub that is held together by the loyalty of its regulars, and the delight of [most] first-time visitors who pledge to tell their friends about it and come back. The place is oddly-named as "BBB's Irish Pub." The meaning of the three B's isn't advertised on their website or Facebook page, but all regulars know what it stands for: Big Boobs and Bangers. For at this Irish pub, the waitresses, while still wearing Irish-themed skirts and carrying trays of large, foaming beers to make one feel like they're really in some hole-in-the-wall on the other side of the globe, do so completely topless. Like Hooters, the manager, a rather sleazy-looking skinny middle-aged guy with a balding head and oversized glasses, named Larry Lordborger, makes it a point to hire well-endowed servers.

For the most part, they are. There goes Roxanne (she doesn't have to put on the red dress). Rather voluptuous, a thick girl, but thick in all the right places, she carries her tray with her big breasts exposed, swaying slightly as she goes, and she has a grin on her face as eyes turn towards her. The gamut of endowdness varies; there is one girl, rather short and thin, and her breasts are downsized to match, small handfuls that jiggle softly as she walks with hurried steps and a shy face. It almost feels as if she's in a lion's den serving these hungry men (and women).

But the clientèle here are fairly well-behaved. Nobody makes any attempt to touch the girls. They just sit and enjoy the food and the company. Larry Lordborger seems to operate this place just under the radar. While it has ample bare flesh, it is not registered in the county as an adult establishment, and since no sexual activity is going on, he has been able to ride that secrecy.

Well, almost no sexual activity. One of the most popular meals is "the special," i.e., bangers and mash (mashed potatoes and sausage for those uninformed). The bangers and mash is not "the special" by itself, and the special is not listed on the menu; you have to know about it. What makes it "the special" is how it is served. I observed this, leaning a little bit out of my booth, distracted a bit by my server who had come to ask me if I needed anything else, a Chinese girl named Feng, memorable for the humorous ethnic mismatch in this ethnic-themed bar, and for her admittedly cute, chubby cheeks and significant, hard-to-ignore full, heavy breasts. She stepped aside a bit to try and block my view, because what I saw was the other waitress, Roxanne, before a booth of three guys for whom she had just brought out a tray of plates. Three guys, particularly young, college guys, kind of nerdy-looking but with no social anxiety among them, as Roxanne reached towards a plate she had just set down and plucked up a banger, a fresh sausage with clumps of mashed potatoes clinging to it, and she delicately placed it between her massive breasts.

"Still a little hot!" I heard her say across the small distance between us, and then she stepped forward and lowered herself slightly, tapping her knees against the edge of the seat, and the young man who I couldn’t see up until then, hidden behind the back of the booth, came out, scooting forward on the seat and placing his hands against the woman's sides, on the divide of her waistband and her bare skin, and he brought his face between her breasts to eat, taking a bite of the tip of the banger and letting his mouth collapse into Roxanne's cleavage.

"You don't want more iced tea?" Feng said to me, making me tear my eyes away from the deed going on and instead looking up past her heaving chest to her inquisitive face.

"Actually yes," I said. "That'd be great." I wasn't quite ready to leave Big Boobs and Bangers yet. It seemed anything could happen here.

*****

Roxanne smiled as Zack buried his face into her breasts. When there was no more of the banger exposed to eat, she would lean back and squeeze her breasts and manipulate the sausage like a penis engulfed in her cleavage and squeeze up the next inch or so, and Zack would gobble it up while Jimmy and Michael looked on and shook their heads, smiling. They never ordered the special. Zack did every time he came, and Roxanne began to wish that his friends would one day partake, for they were more good-looking, Jimmy quite fit and sturdy, with jet-black, thick hair, and Michael a handsome black man, thinner, but no less athletic-looking, with a polished bald head that only complimented his handsomeness. None of them looked like geeks except for Zack, who was rail-skinny, with greasy hair that he tied back in a ponytail, and an eager, hungry face that was always ready to bury itself in Roxanne’s chest. She felt his hot lips slathering her skin, and when he was done, he had smears of mashed potato on his face, like a baby, and likewise, her breasts enclosed a mess of what was left, potatoes and a stray onion, and the grease of the sausage. It was like she had just gotten done feeding a baby. She always wanted to grab a napkin from the table to clean herself, but she would wait until she got back behind the kitchen doors. She liked walking with the pride that she had just served another special.

Larry was standing behind the bar and shaking his head disapprovingly as she approached. Joe, another of the regulars and a good-ol'-boy, always wearing his trucker's hat and three-day scruff, turned and grinned.

"I wish you'd pick better times to do that," Larry said.

"Hey, an order is an order," said Roxanne, and she stopped right in front of the bar with her hands on her hips and the smear of potatoes between her bared breasts, which Joe admired before turning to his drink.

"Yeah, but pick the right time. That one guy by himself was looking, and I'm pretty sure he's a restaurant reviewer."

Roxanne waved a hand.

"You act like it's a bigger secret than it really is."

Feng came walking by and let an eye stray over at Roxanne, and she subtly shook her head and kept moving.

"Get in back and clean yourself up," Larry told Roxanne. "Before more people come in and see."

Roxanne just laughed and slowly made her way back.

"At least he didn't order the super-special," Joe said before she disappeared, and she could already see in her mind's eye Larry turning around and frowning at him.

In the back, Feng was tipping back a glass of water, her chest out, and the other servers, thin and short and small-chested Cassie, and tall and shapely Stephanie (who was every bit Roxanne's envy with her hourglass figure and perfectly round hooters) waiting to run food out. The cooks, on the other side of the line, were fully-dressed in the usual smocks and were not phased at all by their half-naked co-workers. Questions of health code compliance were always a concern. Bared breasts in a kitchen, and bared breasts hovering over food... Those were surely not to fly, but topless servers weren't unheard of and the health inspectors, when they did come, didn't seem to mind (they in fact seemed charmed). So the bar rode on the way it had always had. None of the health inspectors had witnessed the special. Or the super-special, which was seldomly done. The only two who were willing to do it were of course Roxanne, and, with jealousy on Roxanne’s part, Stephanie. Feng and Cassie were too modest to go as far as the super-special, and Roxanne and Stephanie only did it when Larry had days off.

*****

Two young men entered BBB's Irish pub one slow Monday afternoon after having read the exposé of sorts that had appeared on the Local Eats food blog. They were immediately taken aback by what they saw when they entered: at least four women walking about the open floor, their skirts stopping below their belly buttons and everything else above exposed. Bare breasts, like in a topless bar, freely moving about. Big, giant breasts, from a slightly-chubby waitress, from a similarly-built Asian girl whose breasts were even more fatty and full, round, perfectly-realized breasts from a shapely tall woman walking with every bit of confidence and a smile thrown their way, and small, jittery breasts from a very cute short girl. All there, unashamed. Only one man sat at the bar, and another loner sat in a booth.

"I hope we get the tall one," one of them men said, elbowing his friend. The tall one spoken of eyed them and passed by the bar and then disappeared, and then the chunkier girl approached, boobs waggling in front of them.

"Hi, I'm Roxanne. I'll be your server. Where would you like to sit?"

"Uh, boobs," the more nervous of the two men said.

"He means booth."

The girl just laughed.

"No problem!" She grabbed two menus from the unoccupied hostess stand. "Follow me!" Then she turned and all the two men had to look at was her bare back before she presented her chest again, when they reached their booth. They paused with nervousness, standing at equal height to her with her bare chest so close. Then they settled in opposite each other.

She took their drink orders (the more nervous of the two got a soda while the calmer guy got a local draft beer) and then she let them be to look over their menus and conspire. In that time their eyes wandered as the short, small-breasted girl passed by, but they were looking for the tall girl.

"Man, I can't believe this place is real," the nervous guy said. "Right here in town."

"Yep, I guess that reviewer wasn't lying. I wonder if I should get what he had."

"Fuck that, you know what I wanna try."

"I think that was just a favor for a loyal customer," the calmer guy said.

"Naw, he said it was a 'special.'"

"Well, you can ask."

"I'm almost afraid to."

"Well, I can ask for you."

"No, don't do that!"

The server named Roxanne materialized.

"Know what you guys want to eat?" she asked.

"I might try the Reuben spring rolls," the calmer of the two men said, flipping his menu closed.

"Oh, those are great!" the waitress said. She spoke so chipperly and casually, without drawing attention to the fact that she was topless before them. Until she said: "They're almost big enough to fit nice and comfortable between my breasts!"

The calmer of the two men didn't seem phased by this in the slightest, except for a small laugh. The other guy was visibly rattled, though, blinking back disbelief as the girl turned to him and asked him what he'd like. He stuttered and consulted the menu.

"Uuuuh..."

"You guys have extra stuff that's not on the menu, don't you?" the calmer guy said, setting up his friend to bat with a smile.

"Oh yes! Our featured item is of course the bangers and mash. That can be ordered normally on its own, but for ten dollars extra, you can upgrade it to the special."

"Wow, ten dollars," the nervous guy said, eying the picture of the entree on the menu.

"Oh, it's worth it," the server said, then, glancing over her shoulder and looking back at the men again, "and also, any item on the menu can be upgraded for twenty bucks to the super-special."

"T-the super-special?"

The server nodded. "Yep, and that's for any item, though I recommend it for the appetizers, since they're easier to eat with your hands while you're distracted."

"Distracted?"

"Well, you'll see."

"What is it? Tell me."

The server once again looked to her left and right, and then leaned in close, her breasts descending before him and making his heart go pitter-patter, and she held up her hand and nearly touched her lips to his ear. His friend watched as the nervous guys' eyebrows shot up, and the girl stood back.

"Wow, you really do that?"

"Only on Mondays and Wednesdays for now. Today's your lucky day!"

"I'll get the super-special, then."

"What meal do you want that with, sweetie?"

"Huh? Oh... those Reuben spring rolls sound good. I might try those, too.”

"A double-order of Reuben spring rolls, with one super-special applied, coming up." She turned on her hip and faced the other guy, raising a finger. "Did you wanna try the super-special too?"

The guy waved a hand.

"I'll see how he likes it."

The server's smile broadened and she said "okay!" and then spun away, her breasts moving with inertia until her back was faced to them, her hips swaying underneath her skirt. The calmer guy leaned over the table.

"So what is it?" he asked

"I don't know if I'll say. I don't even know if it's going to be real."

So distracted were they by Roxanne and so involved with the mystery were they that they only noticed, at the last minute, that the taller sever that they had favored was passing by, and the nervous guy's eyes shot over to her bare chest and noticed a different feature on it, and his jaw dropped. The calmer guy missed what he had seen.

Ten minutes later, with their drinks low, the spring rolls arrived. Their server had some help, the shorter girl, whose face was shy as she sat down the tray and two small plates and turned to leave before they could ogle her, but the hurry was because, no doubt, that she knew what they had ordered on top of those spring rolls. Their server sat down a fresh tea.

"Would you like another beer first?" she asked the other guy.

"Sure, no rush."

"I'll be right back." She turned and hurried away again. "Don't touch those spring rolls yet, they're hot!"

The calmer man did, and retracted his finger.

"Yowch."

He looked up at his friend.

"So what's gonna happen? Is she gonna rub her titties all in this or something?"

"Just wait," the more nervous guy said, squirming in his seat and reaching down under the table as if to adjust himself. The two exchanged an awkward look over the steaming spring rolls. Then their server returned. She sat the beer down and then faced the more nervous guy, and she said: "alright, you ready?"

The guy turned a little in his seat the best he could, and the server beckoned him closer. "Here, slide to the end of the bench. you can touch the spring rolls now."

The nervous man's friend tentatively grabbed one while the nervous guy stared up at Roxanne and her magnormous breasts.

"Get that banger out, sweetie," she said. The calm guy choked on his spring roll. His friend just stared up in disbelief, even though he had apparently been told this would happen. "It's okay. Nobody's looking." She confirmed with a quick glance over her shoulder, and the nervous guy, increasingly more nervous, pulled down the zipper of his fly while his friend let his food fall out of his mouth.

With urgency and a strange sense of freedom, his cock burst out of his fly, already rigid and ready, and Roxanne lowered herself so her breasts settled around it. The softest embrace overwhelmed him, and he leaned back, though he had nothing to lean back on, so he braced his elbow on the table as his cock got comfortable in between Roxanne's loving cleavage, and she pressed with her hands to close him in. Then the soft rocking commenced.

The young man took in a sharp breath at the sharp pleasure on the crown of his cock as it poked up from between Roxanne's breasts and then disappeared again, and the pure heat poured all over him. The zipper of his fly dug into the base of his trunk, so he reached his hands down. Roxanne seemed to know what he was doing and she backed off, leaving his cock wobbling in the air as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them flap open. Then Roxanne's breasts fell upon him again and he was sliding between them with no effort on his part. Roxanne was half-kneeling against the rise of the booth's floor, the man's knees digging into her abdomen and her weight on his lap. He managed to glance over at his friend, who tried to chew down his spring roll, his appetite apparently lost, and his eyes avoided the other side of the table.

"Feel free to grab one and start eating," Roxanne said. "This is a dine and dab."

The man was beside himself, almost light-headed and unable to hold himself the way he was with nothing to lean back on, but he managed to let a shaky hand pluck a spring roll from the large platter.

"Don't touch 'em all," his friend warned. "You just had your hand in your pants."

"Right, right." He dipped the spring roll in the watery au jus bowl and brought it to his mouth, hardly able to savor the taste as he savored what was going on before him. He dripped a little sauce on Roxanne's titties and it coursed down her slopes to add lubrication and it stung, and his hips bucked from the intense pangs of pleasure that were rising.

"Ooh, almost time? You barely started your dinner! here, I'll slow down..."

Her tits stopped bouncing on him but she kept them squeezed close together until his head popped up again, and as it found air, it spat. The young man strained with the pleasure as he felt like he completely emptied with one shot that spiraled up and touched Roxanne's chin, then dangled there as he emptied between her breasts and made white rivers. She took his crown back down between her depths and he gasped and dropped his spring roll. Roxanne just laughed and released him. He almost fell back flat on his back but caught himself on the table, his cock wagging and wet as she stood up.

"Well enjoy the rest of our meal," she said. "I'll be back later to see if you need anything." She shot a look over at the other man, who was sitting there with a spring roll in his hands and staring at her striped chest and white tendril hanging from her chin. "You change your mind about the super-special?"

The man blinked and dropped his spring roll onto his plate, then picked it up again.

"No, no, I'm good."

Their server flashed a smile and then turned and walked away, leaving the two men in a daze over what had just happened. The nervous one re-adjusted himself in his chair, and his dick was still out.

"Ugh, I'm gonna have to go to the bathroom," he said as he surveyed himself and grabbed his dick to put it back in his messy pants.

"Yeah, wash your hands."

The nervous guy slid out of the booth and stood, and as he did, the front door chimed, and in stepped a tall-standing gentleman with a clipboard, who caught sight of their server Roxanne right as she was passing the hostess podium. She stopped and faced him, and the first thing the health inspector said, eying the nervous man standing in back with his fly down, was: "I'm going to assume that's not mayonnaise."

*****

"I can't believe this shit Roxanne, freaking titty-fucking a customer... and right when the health inspector was walking in!" Larry ranted the next day in the kitchen.

"Oh, I was finished up before he walked in.'

The look on Larry's face was incredulous and he threw up his hands. Nearby, Feng and the other girls milled about, and the cooks on the other side of the line pretended to ignore the conversation that was going on. The chewing-out was reserved for Roxanne alone, but Larry soon raised his hand and made a circling motion.

"Come on in. We're in trouble, folks. Not with the health inspectors, but with the county. Seems we're gonna be fined for operating an adult business without properly advertising it as such. We gotta clean up our act."

"So no more being topless?" Cassie asked, almost with a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

"Maybe, but we'll piss off a lot of regulars. That can stay as long as it's not suggestive. But you know what has to go..."

They all stared blankly at him. Larry narrowed his eyes on Roxanne and Stephanie.

"No more specials."

The two girls let out "aawwws."

"I mean it. That crosses the line. Even just gobbling bangers out of your titties, that makes it an adult place. We got away with it for long enough."

"Gee, that'll make the customers complain more than anything," Roxanne piped up. "Our regulars love the special."

"Can't do it unless we wanna be classified as an adult venue. And even if we were an adult venue, that'd still be against the law."

A sober silence fell over the group, with all the girls looking serious at the realization they were essentially partaking in prostitution, and it was funny to see them all contemplating this while standing topless. Cassie looked the most horrified, and the most endearing; innocent compared to the others, her chest comparably smaller, making her seem the junior to the other girls, even though she was older. Then her face lit up and she raised her eyes to Larry's.

"What if there's a compromise?" she suggested. Larry sighed and folded his arms.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we can still be topless, but no specials, which will upset customers. But what if we adjusted our attire? What if..."

She paused for dramatic effect, looking from person to person to gauge their interest.

"What if we serve fully nude?"

A metal spoon was dropped by one of the cooks on the other side of the line, and Larry snorted in disgust.

"Well that would make things worse," Larry said. "I'm surprised you came up with that idea, Cassie. You of all people."

Cassie wrinkled her nose but resisted replying in offense. "I've gone to a nude beach or two in my time. It's just nudity. It technically can be allowed. If we can get away with being topless, we can get away with being fully naked. Just as long as..."

"I like it," Stephanie cut in, and she was smiling deviously. She always loved showing off on the floor, and this was no doubt attractive to her, but Roxanne was beginning to get nervous...

*****

And so it was decided. BBB's Irish Pub was now fully nude. Customers entered and froze in their tracks as they were greeted by Roxanne, now completely naked, her weighty chest now complimented by a wide, unruly bush which she had considered shaving but didn't, and the slight swell of her belly which she was self-conscious of, but the customers did not seem to mind. They followed her as if under a spell, and it helped her self-image a little, but it did not stop her skin from buzzing with nervous energy.

Showing her tits off was one thing. She was proud of her tits. They were big and fat and people loved them. But she was fat everywhere else, too, and didn't consider herself worthy of being objectified. Feng seemed to be in the same situation too, being rather full-figured and walking about with unease and with a bush as full and wide as Roxanne's, but jet-black and tangly, and again hypnotizing to her guests who would lower their eyes and stare at it as they read the menu. Stephanie, meanwhile, seemed completely at ease, and again was center to Roxanne's growing resentment. Well-endowed but with a thin waist, and completely tan skin across every inch of her body down to her sex, which was hairless, she embodied every male fantasy as presented in online porn, and Roxanne couldn't help but be jealous of her. And Cassie, meanwhile, who had amazingly suggested this idea, walked around now as if she was the most comfortable she'd ever been. Cassie the shy girl with the little tits who never made any suggestive passes with her guests, now walked with a small blush but with bounce in her step. She seemed somehow obscenely wholesome, and Roxanne resented her, too. She resented, as well, all this allure with no way to make extra money off of it. As she led a pair of guys to their table, she instantly recognized them as the pair that she had entertained right before they had gotten in trouble, and, with expectations brimming, the guy she had titty-fucked weeks ago was already fishing his dick out of his pants as he sat. Roxanne put up her hand.

"No, sweetie," she said calmly. "None of that. We got in trouble because of last time."

The look of disappointment on the guy's face was severe, but his eyes were still glad for the extra skin.

"Awww. I hope I didn't get you in trouble too bad."

"No, not too bad. But we can't do specials anymore. The compromise is now you get to see us naked!"

"A fine compromise," the guy's friend said, passing his eyes quickly from Roxanne to the menu.

Joe the other regular seemed thrilled with the new change of scenery. He lifted his glass of whiskey to Larry as the naked servers passed by.

"I tell you what," Joe said to Larry, "this is a hell of an idea. Just when I thought this place couldn't get any better."

Larry just shrugged, while Cassie passed behind him on her way to the kitchen and couldn't help but smile at the new status quo she had created.

It brought more customers than ever before. As was to be expected. Newcomers came in with disbelief and left singing praises about BBB's, and came back with friends, whose friends came back with more friends. Pretty soon word traveled far and wide, because one day Larry was at the bar while a young, thirty-something couple came in and sat, marveling. They said they had traveled all the way over from the next state just to see the place, as they were nudists and were all about supporting businesses that embraced any form of nudism.

"Well, we didn't have that in mind when we started doing this," Larry admitted.

"We get it, it's supposed to be a little racy. It's all women, that's understandable. But it's still refreshing."

Larry didn't have anything to say in response to this, and just shrugged. He had never even thought of nudism before. He was just a low-rent Hugh Hefner, by his own admission. Then the couple piped up again.

"Gee, it would be great if customers were allowed to be nude, too. Just make it a nudist restaurant. Is that allowed?"

Larry stopped what he was doing and thought on that. It was something that had never occurred to him, and the more he thought about it, it made no sense. The attraction was the girls. Who would want to come in and see a bunch of normal naked people? He was on the cusp of saying no, but the guests were so friendly and their enthusiasm clicked something in his head that it might promise a new loyal clientèle, so he blurted out "well, I guess they could... it makes sense, doesn't it?"

The couple seemed overjoyed at this and exchanged glances. Then they looked to Larry again.

"Can we?"

He was left unsure what to say. He saw Roxanne passing behind them slowly, slowly paying attention to what was going on.

"Sure," Larry said. "What the hell."

The couple's grins magnified and they got up off their stools and quickly undressed. What few people were in the bar at that time (it was the slow period, the weekday right before lunch) looked over and widened their eyes as the couple lost their shirts and quickly shimmied down their pants, setting them on the stools to provide a barrier between the seats and their newly-naked butts, both bronzed, one delicately feminine and the other only slightly more masculine, as they settled in their seats and continued their time at the bar as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Larry had a little trouble adjusting to looking at them.

Roxanne found the new development invigorating. With those two guests getting naked, she felt a little less strange. She was already getting used to the idea that she wasn't as unattractive as she thought, as plenty of guests gazed googly-eyed at her, but with the two guests naked, even though they were both relatively fit and good-looking (she peered her eyes to them and got a detailed look at the man) made things feel more normal.

Larry's allowance for the two guests to get naked set off a chain reaction. A slow one, but on that day, at least, one other guest got naked without permission, and Larry allowed it, and it was Roxanne's pleasure to wait on him, getting her eyeful at a peek of the beginning of his cock before sight of it slipped under the table, and when she came back to give him his check, she could see that she made him slightly erect. This new status quo might present its own problems for Larry, she thought. But she didn't say anything.

Soon it was accepted that this was "the naked place," and customers would come in, get undressed at their seats, and leave their clothes on the floor, except for the articles they sat on (something Larry requested). It almost seemed pointless to highlight the servers. There was nothing to stand out when nearly everybody was naked. Eventually, the clientèle seemed to shift. Larry noticed less and less of his regulars, and more and more strangers who came from he did not know where. Nudist enthusiasts, it turned out. Many told him that they had come from far away to see his restaurant, and others who lived nearby said they had never known about it. The more of these newcomers who came in, the less Larry saw of the regulars that he had always recognized. Even Joe stopped coming. The last time he was there, he seemed very uncomfortable with several mixed-gender naked people sitting and happily chatting at the bar next to him. He had had no trouble ogling naked girl servers as they flaunted about, but when it came down to mundane nudity, he apparently couldn't abide it, and Larry lost a customer.

Zack, Jimmy, and Michael returned and got into the spirit of things, much to Roxanne's delight, as she'd been wishing to see more of at least the latter two of the trio. Both of them were a pleasure to her eyes, both lean and with definition on their abdominals (before they sat down and were hidden behind the booth), Jimmy white and pale but like a statue, and Michael dark as chocolate and as delectable. Zack, sitting across from them as always, was scrawny but no less defined, and surprisingly attractive all the same, and his attraction showed for her, to which she had to tell him, as with the other customer, that specials were not on the menu anymore. All but Zack didn't seem to mind. But that was the last time they came. The new clientèle seemed to fully replace the old, and now nudist enthusiasts took up the restaurant, and their character seemed much less randy than Zack and the one guy who had enjoyed the super-special. There was no allure to nudity now except for the comfort of it. But that did not prevent a few bad actors from coming in. Coming in, that is, rigid and ready to come, and the sight of a curved and erect cock of a bold man disrobing before he even sat stirred Roxanne's lust. He came in by himself, sat at a table, and stared lasers into her, and she loved the pierce of them into her flesh. Every verbal interaction between her and him was laced with sexuality, and she was urgent to satisfy that lust. She tried, she really did, but when she brought out his bangers and mash, he sat there, pushed back in his seat as she laid the plate down, his erection wobbling up at her and asking to be satiated, and though it was a busy day full of people, Roxanne let her randy instincts kick in.

"Would you like anything else?" she asked the man, and he looked her up and down (his dick twitching as he did) and he licked his lips and said: "Nothing that I can ask for." Roxanne's mouth turned up in a devious grin at this.

"Are you sure?" she asked as she took his fork, laid out innocently enough for him to use, and plunged it into the mashed potatoes. Then, lifting it, she leveled it over his lap and flicked the glop onto him.

"Hey, that's hot!" he yelled, and a few eyes turned their way.

"Sorry babe, I like it hot," Roxanne said as she flicked a few more globs of potato on his cock and then knelt down to massage it in, covering his member in creamy goodness. His demeanor relaxed, but his passion did not, and kneeling there with a twitching, enveloped hardness, Roxanne leaned forward and admitted the rest into her mouth. Starch and musk, entering her taste buds. The man sighed. So did Roxanne, over the length of his dick hot on her tongue, her breath on his skin, the potatoes dissolving and nothing but meat remaining, her eyes ignorant of the others turning in their direction, the hot, slimy essence of this man in her mouth, and then the hot release, his semen joining the potatoes at the back of her throat and going down. When she stood up, the man was glad, the remnants of his erection waving in thanks, but Larry was not thankful, and came out amidst all the clientèle shouting: "What the FUCK?!"

Roxanne was fired that very afternoon. Customers booed as she was led out, now fully dressed. Other customers, true nudists and not exhibitionists, frowned at the whole affair. But BBB's Irish Pub did not shut down. It continued as always, though Roxanne, ever-diligent, wanted a sexual release for what was presented before her. So in a few months' time, there was another venue in town, one standing in contrast to BBB's, with no aspirations to hide its allure, and it became a competitor of Big Boobs and Bangers, offering sexual release, with the blessing of the county as an adult venue, while Larry, reluctantly, continued his venue as a place of non-sexual and normalized nudity, much to his chagrin, and to the chagrin of his clientèle, who looked with disdain at Roxanne's new business which prided itself in being called "clothing optional," when the adoption of the term was nothing more than a lure for exhibitionists, and then, the clientèle of BBB's Irish pub was split between those who enjoyed nudity and those who coveted it with expectations of something more. And both somehow co-existed.

The Naked Race

"Good evening. Tonight we bring you a story of yet another illegal street race, which have been increasing in number and angering residents. but it's not the noise or the safety concerns that will raise an eyebrow..."

"Good evening, folks, we have yet another illegal street race literally streaking through the quiet neighborhood of Midway City today, and residents are up in arms..."

"Law enforcement has had to step up their patrols to try to keep this disturbance in control, and they advise anybody with any knowledge to please contact the local police department..."

"Reports of a greater network of illegal street racers are mounting up, with rumors of organized events out in the countryside. Local correspondent Tiffany Taylor is trying to get a look under the hood of this secret society..."

*****

Raul Pablo stood among the crowd gathered in the street where a line of sports and muscle cars were assembling, gunning their engines to show off their horsepower. The energy was high and even the engines were almost drowned out by the cheers of people showing their appreciation and of general rowdiness going around. A boom-box blasted some punk/hip-hop of a group Raul didn't recognize, fold-out tables were set up with people selling water and snacks, and of course, there were coolers of beer. The business district was long since closed up by this time of night in the sleepy neighborhood, and nobody living nearby would dare come and intervene. This was an organized event, however, the first-ever "Naked Race," or so it was called. Why it was called that, Raul didn't know, but he assumed it was because choice street racers were called in from all over the region to participate in this semi-legal competition, organized by some rich eccentric who Raul knew little about. He knew little about the street racing scene, either. He just loved cars. He came in his own Honda Accord with spinning rims and neon, though nobody seemed impressed. He wasn't coming to race, though. He just wanted to see what everybody had, and maybe get his foot in the door of the scene.

Even though the sun had long since gone down, it was still muggy. Raul pulled at his black t-shirt to get a draft going through him and immediately zeroed in on the table that was selling water.

"What the hell, four bucks?" he reeled at the vendor. "You could at least make it a giant bottle."

"Hey man, inflation," the vendor said. "I gotta eat, and I'm hungry."

"Shit, man."

As Raul dug in his pocket for some ones, he heard a particularly loud engine gunning, and he turned around to see a recognizable neon-pink Lamborghini.

*****

Kiera pulled her Lambo into the crowded street. People parted for her, and many others cheered, knowing exactly who she was. She was the punk little sister of the street racing community, the girl that nobody doubted and nobody disrespected, except for those who didn't know her. She had earned her cred on several races, winning first place a couple of months prior in a fiery spectacle of wrecked losers that brought the attention of the news. She had laid low after that, but the street racing scene had continued, and apparently this particular race was a big deal. Some big shot had organized it, and she did not know much about him. He was older. Some rich guy. He didn't have anything to do with the scene, from what Kiera could figure. He just liked cars. Rumor was there was a big cash prize for winning the race, though nobody had actually confirmed it. Kiera just wanted to get back behind the wheel. She scanned her eyes at all the people gathered to watch and then lined up her vehicle next to the others that arrived. She recognized some cars. There was Jamal's rare Mazda RX-7 and Renny's Lime-green Impala. But there were many others, and everybody stood outside their car. Kiera cut off her engine and got out, to some cheers from the crowd. A short stocky guy in a tank-top and open shirt was walking by, taking stock of all the racers who were there. He nodded to Kiera and didn't say anything.

"Yo Kiera, you gonna crash and burn tonight?" a voice called. It was the guy immediately to her left, standing in front of a yellow Honda S2000.

"The way I remember it, it was you who was crashing and burning last time," she shot back. She heard some "oooohs" from the crowd. This guy didn't fully know her yet. She didn't even know his name. Not that it mattered. None of these punks were family.

"Alright!" the guy who had been walking around called. "Shut up! Shut up and listen!"

The crowd dialed it down to a sea of murmurs and all the racers watched the man, bored, ready to get behind the wheel.

"Now we don't have a lot of time," the man said. "This is a longer race than normal, because we have the blessings of somebody on the city council. But cops are still gonna be out, so be careful."

So that's who the organizer was, Kiera thought. Some rich white politician.

"We also gotta be careful because this race is gonna be a little bit different than normal in another way. Here's the moment of truth, people. Everybody, take off your clothes."

There was a dead silence now from even the crowd. Kiera's pulse pounded in her head and she thought she had misheard the man. Take off your clothes?

"Man, what the fuck is this?" the guy to Kiera's left said.

"It's the rules. The idea is, if you're a good racer, you can win, even if you're naked. If you can't concentrate, then you fail. Got it? Here, I'll start."

Much to Kiera's surprise, the man threw his over-shirt off and pulled his tank-top over his head. He was not an Adonis; he had a pot belly, but his caramel skin and a few tattoos offset his pudgy frame. Then he took down his pants, and a little paleness around his crotch contrasted with the rest of him, and there he stood, naked as a baby, a puff of tangly pubic hair cradling a tiny dick, just a nub, and Kiera let herself laugh, as did many of the others in attendance. But the man didn't care. And none of the racers followed suit.

"On your marks," the man said, kicking his jeans and shoes to the side. "Come on."

Kiera laughed through her nose and looked at the other racers, who all looked at each other. They all looked confused, thinking this was a joke. Then finally she saw Renny pulling off his shirt, his face weary, and along the line, others did as well. Kiera was the only woman, and she was chewing on her lip at the injustice of it. The guy to her left sneered at her before pulling his shirt over his head, obviously looking forward to seeing her naked. Kiera thought about flipping everybody off and getting in her car and leaving, but she looked over the crowd. She had not noticed before, but there were naked people in the crowd as well. A tall white dude with washboard abs hooted and hollered and swung his penis around like a helicopter blade. She raised her eyebrow at that. A girl farther down got on someone's shoulders and lifted her top, flashing her breasts. This was not the type of race scene Kiera was used to. There was always a little bit of skin, but nothing like this.

Then she saw a girl strut from the crowd and towards the line of cars. She appeared out of the clothed people like a mirage, because the only thing she wore was a set of heels, and she carried a checkered flag with her. People whistled and hollered as she came up to the front of the vehicles and waited to signal the start of the race. Her chest was large, prominent, her thighs thick, and her pussy smooth and hairless. She had long, sable hair and a confident look on her face, and she smirked at all the people admiring her.

Well, Kiera thought. If I'm not the only one...

The cheers seemed to amplify as she pulled her shirt over her head, which should have muffled the crowd, and her hair fell loose on her shoulders and she felt a breath leave her lungs and she took in another one rapidly as she twisted her bra around, with the disrespectful guy next to her not even noticing because he was stepping out of his pants, lean and light-skinned, his masculine ass right there for her to observe as he conversed with another racer.

"Should I like put my shoes back on? Does it not count as naked if we have shoes?"

"I don't know man, I can drive barefoot," Kiera heard another man's voice, softer under the increased noise.

"Yeah but not in a race."

The debate distracted her embarrassed mind for a moment as she contemplated the same thing, freeing her bra and letting her bare chest look out at the semi-circle of gathered people. She pulled off her Chuck Taylors and yanked down her jeans, like a band-aid. She felt most inelegant now, struggling each leg out and nearly losing balance, and then she was just in her panties. The guy to her left looked now and grinned. Kiera just rolled her eyes and tore her panties down. There. She was free. She felt the cool night air on her bush and the absence of anything touching her ass, and as she tossed her panties aside, she picked up her shoes and inelegantly put them back on, standing on one leg at a time.

The short, naked, caramel-skinned guy came by, nodding that every racer was as naked as him, and glancing and freezing up a bit at the sight of Kiera, then nodding and trying to blow it off.

"So what do we do with our clothes?" Kiera asked him. The man was forced to look at her again.

"Huh? I dunno, put 'em in your car, I guess." Then he moved on. Kiera and the others picked up their things and there was the sound of more than a dozen car doors slamming as everybody stashed their clothes.

"Alright!" the short man called out in his authoritative voice. "That's more like it! Now this race is gonna go down the strip and into the highway just outside of town. Road goes through the hills and does a big dog leg, putting you right out at the perimeter road. That's the big danger spot; that's where you'll be seen the most. Watch out for traffic. The perimeter road loops back here, where you'll finish. Now get in your cars!"

The crowd cheered, and Kiera found herself walking naked with a bunch of naked men, floating, it seemed, to her driver's side door and getting in. The unfamiliar friction of her seat's leather on her bare ass was the only thing convincing her this was not a dream. Her heart was rattling, her breath was quick, and she took it in and tried to calm herself. If you're a good racer, then you'll win. If you can't concentrate, then you fail. The words echoed in her head. She was good. She had unsurpassed concentration in tight spots. She could do this.

*****

Raul couldn't believe what he had seen. Amidst a line of guys all taking it off, something he didn't care to see, he kept his eyes up, for there Kiera, the hottest, spunkiest racer in the scene, was taking off her bra. In a flash she was as he had never been able to imagine her: perky, pointy tits waving about, and soon the rest of her exposed: pale skin, dark pubic hair, a tiny little butt as she turned to put her items in her car. It was like a dream come true just to see her. Then they stood there awkwardly, waiting, and nobody had any way to hide themselves. Some stood with their hands in front of them, as did Kiera, but that did little to quell the excitement of seeing her with nothing on. He imagined this was what being at a nudist resort was like, being surrounded by naked people, nowhere to hide, and the building arousal that thankfully was hidden since he was clothed. But others were not. Glancing to his side, he already saw that people on the sidelines were taking off their clothes, and he already saw one erection. He hoped that would be the last for the night. Then the racers were getting their instructions and getting into their cars.

"So this literally is a naked race, huh?" Raul asked a guy next to him. "What kind of idea is that?"

"I don't know, man, the guy behind it is a weirdo, I guess."

There were lots of weirdos, apparently, as the number of naked people on the sidelines was multiplying. Then the flag girl marched in front of the cars, and that was something worth looking at. Unlike Kiera, and even unlike some of the women in the crowd who tentatively took off their clothes bit-by-bit, this flag girl had no shame, and she was a knockout. She could knock out somebody with her tits, which, despite their size, seemed to be immune to gravity. Raul swallowed and watched as she posed with the flag, looked at the announcer dude (also naked), then at the racers, and then dropped the flag.

A dozen engines burst into overdrive and sped down the road, leaving the flag girl's hair blowing over her shoulders as she turned and watched, and the crowd erupted. More shirts came off. Others wiggled out of their jeans. Raul was beginning to feel a little weird in the center of so many naked bodies. Even the guy he had talked with was now taking off his clothes. Raul tried to crane his neck to see the cars zip down the strip before they disappeared around the bend, and then after that, he would have to rely on looking over people's shoulders, as some had a live feed coming in from others positioned at other parts along the route. But soon there were more naked people than clothed, and he didn't want to get next to them. Eventually he bumped against somebody, and it was the guy he had talked to. He was muscly and tan, and evoked the image of any meathead at the beach, except the skin never ended; there was no waistband of swim trunks to cut off the trail of his abs and pubic bones. Raul shot his eyes back up and grimaced in the guy's face.

"So what's the point of everybody getting naked?" Raul asked.

"It's all part of the fun!" the guy responded. "You don't get many opportunities to let it all hang out. Plus, it's hot, anyway.”

Raul nodded. It made sense, but it was still weird. He was glad to see Kiera and the flag girl and the occasional naked woman float through the crowd, but the uncomfortable feeling of being close to so many naked people and the sight of so many dicks and male asses hardly made it worth it now. Nudism definitely wasn't his type of scene. At least he thought that until the flag girl made her way by, to a chorus of cheers.

Raul raised on his heels to get a look. She was pacing in front of the line of people, a devious smirk on her face. Camera flashes flashed. A pair of boxers was thrown from the crowd and landed delicately on the woman's bare shoulder. She looked at it and plucked it as a new chorus of "oooohs" came from the crowd. She held the boxers and trailed them up her abdomen, over her breasts, and was about to toss them back into the crowd before clasping them to herself again, running them between her breasts and farther down, trailing down her abdomen until she stuffed the garment between her thighs. Then she pulled it up again and slung it into the crowd with her finger. People lunged for it as if it were prime rib.

Okay, Raul thought. Maybe this isn't quite like a nude resort. His guess was correct, as a nude man stepped out from the crowd and stood before the woman as if sizing her up. He had a grin on his face, his hands on his hips, and a smooth, lengthy erection curving upwards. The woman took it firmly in her grasp. Raul could hardly believe it. The man just smiled and looked at the crowd as if to say "get a load of this," but it was the flag girl who was soon getting a load, as in the span of thirty seconds, when she felt his pulse quicken in her palm, she dropped to her knee and a high spurt of ivory tumbled in the air and graced her chin. The crowd roared. Raul stared in shock and arousal. Definitely not like a nudist resort. The flag girl stood and wiped the semen from her chin, smirked at the man, and then turned to walk away, swaying her sizable butt at the crowd that began to rush forward, but who were stopped by the guy who had just gotten off. They were like horny animals now, and more clothes came off, and more hands traveled, and Raul tried to distance himself from the wobbling and stabbing erect penises around him, pushed past bared breasts that pressed into his arm, and sought some fresh air, wondering if this was even about a race anymore.

*****

Kiera tore around the bend and accelerated into the wooded section of the race, several pairs of red taillights swerving in front of her. It was a tight spot, and near-impossible to pass here. All she could do was keep on them. She had made several mistakes already. Being naked was proving to be distracting. Every sensation was new to her, even the familiar feeling of her Chucks on the pedals was contrasted by the nakedness above, and it felt odd, like she had weights on her feet, and she wished she had tried the race barefoot. Her seatbelt dug into her skin and cut under her left breast, and her sweat ran free down her sides as she navigated the mounting sharp bends through the wooded road. She leaned into each turn, noting the presence of her skin which she had never been aware of before behind the wheel. For a brief second, as she completed a turn and swiftly corrected to drift in the opposite direction, she, in a strange way, felt connected to her car. It was a barely-noticed feeling, there only for a second, and then the road straightened out and she barreled forward, weaving in between the other racers and leaving them in her dust. She raised her thumb to engage the nitrous, leaned back, and felt her body press to the seat as she rocketed forward. It was premature; up ahead, the sharpest of turns she had ever experienced presented itself. All she saw was a line of trees and a line of caution arrows below them. She braked. She turned. She barely escaped crashing into the signs as she drifted around the curve, the last part of the dogleg, and then she hit the gas, reflexively thumbing the nitrous, but knowing one more sharp turn was coming up: the entrance to the perimeter road.

The dozen cars spilled out onto the wider and more open highway, applying their brakes and drifting into position, Kiera right in line, feeling the trajectory of her car down to her bones, through her skin, through her whole body, and then she engaged the nitrous again. She bolted past the group, and her body, freed of the sideways inertia, now felt at home in the diver's seat. She indeed did feel one with her vehicle. She glanced over long enough to see Jamal looking perplexed as he caught sight of her, and she just grinned and coasted on by. She was going to do this. She was the ultimate naked racer, she thought in her head. It was funny, how she felt singled out at the beginning, but now felt right at home. She wondered briefly how everybody back at the finish line was handling things...

*****

Raul found himself as one of the few clothed people in a sea of skin. He was bouncing on his feet, looking at the phone screen of the person in front of him, glancing past polished bare shoulder to see the pixelated footage of all the racers exiting out of the mountain road onto the highway. One car shot past all of them, and Raul recognized it as Kiera's pink Lambo. She was potentially going to win.

The owner of the phone glanced back at Raul as if he were the one naked and disrupting things. Raul stepped back and bumped into somebody else. It was the guy he had spoken with earlier.

"Hey man, why aren't you getting in the swing of things?" the man asked. Raul was at a loss for words, and action, as he stood and surveyed his surroundings. Everywhere he looked, he saw flexing arms, naked backs, trickles of sweat. A lot of people were just standing around, looking at the footage of the race. A few people were making out, one woman grasping at her partner's member as they kissed. It was half a hedonistic celebration and half just casual nudity, and the longer Raul looked at it all, the more he figured that he should join in. Then, a motivating sight drifted by: the flag girl again, casting devious eyes at the crowd, strutting with her chest out, each step making hypnotizing motions of her hips and rear-end. Their eyes met for just a second, and in that second, Raul knew he needed to get naked. So he did. Shouldn't have brought my wallet out with me, he thought as he tore off his shirt and contemplated his pants. There was a light sweat on his chest, drank up by the air but not leaving him chilled, as it was too muggy. Too muggy to even be wearing clothes, he thought, and he bumped into others as he bent down and undid his shoes, peeled off his socks, then stood and took down his pants. Though it was still muggy, Raul felt a remarkable feeling of relief. He stood up, awash in naked bodies, his penis dangling in front, not erect, but distracting enough, and he felt like hugging himself, but he just stood and turned in place, looking out at everybody. His sweat-smell mixed in with everybody else's, and he bent down to collect his clothes and shoes. Shoes, he thought, and crouched to slip his feet in and tie them, without socks this time. As he stood, it was odd how even more naked that made him feel, but he clutched his clothes to his side and looked around. He couldn't see the flag girl. As he started to walk through the crowd, heads turned or looked back over shoulders and Raul felt self-conscious, though they were in fact not paying him more than just a second's worth of attention. He was just another naked body in the crowd. It was funny, when he almost bumped face-to-face with a clothed person—a surprised-looking girl who flitted her eyes down and bit back a grin before maneuvering around Raul—that's when he felt the most self-conscious. Then he saw the flag girl.

She was moving to the street, hands on her hips, butt perched up because of the heels she was wearing. Raul broke through the crowd and stood at its edge, gazing upon her fully now. He felt his free-hanging penis begin to resist gravity, and he didn't feel ashamed about its eventual display. He wanted her to notice, and in a brief second, she looked over her shoulder and smirked. It seemed like it was directed at him. Please come over, he thought, too bashful to step out of the crowd and into the center of attention. He wanted the same attention that the other lucky guy had gotten. But the girl turned to face up the street, and Raul found himself standing in a line of other unclothed people, men and women, and finally felt natural. He felt relaxed. It was no longer like he was at a hedonistic sex gathering, but just a casual collection of mundane, naked people, and in the heat, it trumped standing sweating in clothes, instead just sweating free, which didn't feel all that bad. It was almost an epiphany, but a roaring set of engines distracted his thoughts and he saw the headlights weaving up ahead.

*****

This was it, Kiera knew. She was neck-and-neck with another car, a driver she didn't know, and she didn't dare look over at him, but in the corner of her eye, she saw that he looked over at her, knowing who the owner of the pink Lambo was, and his distraction was her opportunity. She had used up her nitrous, but she flattened her shoe on the gas pedal and gripped the wheel to keep straight, and soon she was past the other driver, and the crowd of people on either side of the road was waiting for her. She didn't even know she was naked anymore.

The naked flag girl was standing there, dangerously, waiting, hand triumphantly on her hip, and that was the only hint to the fact that this was a naked race before Kiera angled her car to miss the girl, whizzing right past her and sending her black hair flying dramatically, and she downshifted and braked past the jumping, roaring crowd, skidding to a stop and turning her car sideways as people already came to flood in, but receded as the other cars came through the finish line. The one she had passed came in fourth, apparently so distracted that even two more cars were able to overtake him. She saw him hitting his steering wheel in frustration. Elated, Kiera undid her seatbelt, an incredible relief after having it dig into her skin the whole race, and, suddenly aware of her body again, she got out anyway.

The cheers were deafening and the crowd closed in now. She half expected them to swoop her off her feet and carry her. She got nervous, but almost the whole crowd that greeted her was naked like her. There were camera flashes, but nobody tried to grab her, so she just embraced it and pumped her fist, naked in front of a hundred or so other naked people, and she felt alive. Her skin was buzzing with energy.

The caramel-skinned guy who had been giving instructions at the beginning came by, announcing Kiera as the winner, and the cheers only grew. Some guys stepped forward, naked, glorious in nothing at all but bare skin and muscle tone and… They gestured with their phones, and Kiera realized they wanted to take photos with her. Screw it, she thought, and she nodded and let a few rather attractive guys put their arms around her and hold up their phones. Kiera felt their body heat on her side, felt herself twitch at the brief sight in the bottom corner of her eyes of their penises hanging there so close to her thighs, but she remained stoic and made a grunge face and held up her hand in a rock-on gesture for each photo. Then their skin would release their brief touch and she wished she could feel it again. It was an interesting mixture, this experience, of eroticism and down-to-earth naturism, if that's what it could be called. She simply enjoyed standing there free, with nothing to hide and no fear to restrict her, no shame... and the act of racing in the nude was reflected upon in her mind as something she'd want to try again. It was indeed liberating, and her first-place rank was proof that it might even be beneficial.

As she stood there, drinking it all in, one more guy materialized out of the crowd. He was short, but lean, a Hispanic guy with a buzzed head, and his clothes were bundled against his side, and his face was full of wonder. He was kind of cute in his shyness and boldness, and bold, indeed, was a half-chub erection bobbing up as he stood before her.

"Man, I always had mad respect for you," he managed to say, miraculously keeping his eyes above her shoulders, though he licked his lips. It might have been out of nervousness.

"Well, don't you want your picture with me?" she asked. The young man seemed surprised.

"Oh yeah..." He took his clothes up and dug his hand in his pocket for his phone. Just then, the crowd quieted slightly and parted, and a different man came walking through, clothed, impeccably so, in pressed slacks and a sport coat. Orange-tinted glasses shielded very welcoming eyes and a warm smile spread on the man's face.

"Congratulations," he called to Kiera and the dumbfounded young man who was still fishing for his phone, neither of the naked people phasing this refined-looking gentleman. "I believe this is yours."

He reached into the breast pocket of his sport coat and withdrew a paper envelope thickened with what could only be one thing. Kiera was floored, and stepped forward, naked and vulnerable and suddenly feeling it, but ready to accept the gift. The man nodded at her. He didn't even stare or leer. He just acknowledged her as who she was, naked body and all. She looked down at the package and wanted to twist the metal clasps holding it shut to peer at the contents inside, but she could already feel the stacked bills within. She looked up at the man, who she faintly recognized, and nodded her head in thanks. He nodded back and smiled warmly.

The young Hispanic guy had finally gotten out his phone, but stood there silently, not knowing what to do, until the clothed man stepped forward.

"Allow me," he said, and he reached out his hand. The Hispanic guy was hesitant, but reached out to give his phone to the man.

"A victory photo," the man said, and he raised the phone and Kiera looked at the young, shy, naked guy, who seemed like he only now realized that the world was being given to him, or at least his view of the world, and he sidled up next to Kiera and she felt his body trembling against hers. The camera flashed just as his erection was raising to near its terminal point. Then it flashed again, and his dick bobbed, and Kiera hissed through an involuntary laugh and looked at the politician holding the phone. Her hand was on the young man's shoulder and it was slick with sweat. The clothed man lowered the phone and held it out to the young man, who now looked cornered with his arousal on display.

"Cops! Cops! Cops!" a voice rang out, and suddenly the gathered crowd erupted into screams. The older gentleman's eyebrows raised and he nodded his head to Kiera and then turned to walk away. Everywhere, people were scattering, running to their cars, or darting into alleyways. The other racers, only now noticed as the crowd thinned, hopped immediately into their cars. Kiera was left standing with the young, flustered boy, and she smiled at him and winked.

"Until next time," she said and she rushed to her Lamborghini and jumped into the seat, welcoming once more the sensation of the cool leather on her butt but paying it not more than a second's notice as she turned the ignition and gunned the engine. The red-and-blue lights were coming in her rear-view. She spun her tires and then put the car into first gear and tore off. And on that night, a dozen naked drivers and hundreds more naked people on foot scattered throughout the town, and the cops couldn't catch them all. Kiera sped out of there with the energy that had carried her through the race, and when she got to her home, after many lazy detours through several back roads, she still didn't put on her clothes. The rest of the city was a wild scene of nakedness, and this would not be its last naked race.

Naked Pizza

From the blog "Badgerin'," written by Badger Williams, the accused:

September 5th

I have just found the most amazing restaurant, and I can't believe it's been right under my nose this whole time. It's just a block up from my office. I've run my photo manipulation business there for over five years, and I guess I had never gone out often enough to notice when this business came in, apparently about two years ago. I should get out more. I'll definitely be coming daily to this place.

It's called 'ELP,' or "Everybody Loves Pizza." Funnily enough, they have Emerson, Lake, and Palmer playing almost non-stop when you walk in. But that's not the most noticeable thing. The entire pizza joint is run and managed by young women, pretty young women, I might add, and I might also add that each one of them does their job completely naked.

I am not shitting you, dear reader. Completely naked. Top to bottom. This isn't an adult place like a sex club or a strip joint. The girls just serve nude. I was quite charmed by the place and want to share it with all of you. For my readers who live on the other side of the country or in a different country altogether, maybe you can spearhead a business like this in your neck of the woods. It sure brightened my day and days to come I'm sure.

The way I discovered it was when I took a walk, for once, because my office was being fumigated for roaches. They just moved in somehow. So I was walking up the block, and since I didn't have my lunch packed with me this day, I thought about looking for a place to stop to eat, and that's when I saw the big neon ELP sign in the window with a slice of pizza on the logo. Who doesn't love pizza, right? So I walked in, and I was absolutely floored right away when I saw this girl, thin, maybe in her early twenties, with long black hair and black-rimmed glasses, very cute, and would be cute enough without all her exposed pale skin present as she leaned down and sat a tray of slices before a quite calm looking couple, a middle-aged couple closer in years to me who did not seem bothered at all that every imaginable health code might be broken right then. They didn't seem to notice her pointy small breasts pointing at their faces or the stark black, shaggy patch of bare pubic hair hovering right over the edge of the table, or her small butt flexing as she turned and headed back to the bar, which was empty except for a girl at the cash register, apparently also nude, if not just topless, her face stern and serious as she punched in some numbers and opened the register, unaware or just not caring that she was unclothed. She only noticed me when she closed the register, because I was still standing in my spot by the door.

"Welcome," she called over. "Have a seat wherever you like."

Well, I could sit just about anywhere here and be happy, it seemed. I usually like to sit in a booth by myself, but this time I thought I'd be brave and go right up to the bar, because I wanted to learn more.

It was so surreal. I settled myself down on a bar stool and was nervous about doing so, because that's not normally where I would sit, and doubly nervous because before me were several more naked young women. From the bar you can see right into the kitchen, and even back there, there are naked girls working. A rather tall, freckled, cute-as-heck girl with her hair tied back was flipping dough, her breasts very large and buoyant and bouncing as she tossed it, and briskly walking from the kitchen to greet me was another lean girl, black, very pretty, with a smile on her face that seemed to hide a serious side. It was all I could do to focus on her smile because of the dark cherry colorings of her areolas against her chocolate skin. I hardly knew what to order, so I just asked about the place.

"Oh yeah," she said. "This is Sam's idea. We all enjoy being naked, so we figured, why not be naked and make pizza? It's our way of confronting societal norms. What can I get started for you?"

I thought "Sam" must be an older male manager, some Hugh Hefner type who had the perfect idea for a pizza joint, and who I was instantly jealous of, but it turned out "Sam" was short for "Samantha," and that she was the girl I saw at the register. She came out to ask how everything was after I had gotten my two pepperoni slices and diet Coke, and we chatted some more, my eyes getting a lot more practice at staying above the shoulders. Turns out she and her friends had often enjoyed walking around in the woods nude, camping, even boating down the river. They bonded over it so much that they wanted to include this aspect into their business, which they knew would be challenging, but they wanted to fight for the message that nudity wasn't automatically sexual. I could get behind that, but I had to ask: isn't it counter-productive to have the staff be entirely made up of young, attractive women? Samantha had a decent reply to that. She said it was important that people get used to the image of a woman and not automatically sexualize her. Admitting beauty was fine, but being obsessed with nakedness wasn't (I was feeling rather obsessed, guiltily, though was quickly growing accustomed to talking to this naked girl, the first girl, clothed or otherwise, I had talked to at length for some time). Also, by her admission, naked girls helped bring in more customers, which seemed to run counter to her philosophy, but it is what it is.

So I enjoyed my slices (they were very good and had me plenty full) and chatted with the girls as they passed behind the bar. I was amazed that me and the couple were the only people in the restaurant, but it was admittedly still early for lunch. I was full, but I didn't want to leave, so I ordered an appetizer of breadsticks just to nibble on. During that time, a few more people came in and I watched the girl with the glasses serve a group (I couldn't help but watch her) and a trucker-type guy came and sat a space down at the bar. He didn't even say anything like that, didn't nudge me and go "some place, huh?" or anything. He just greeted Samantha when she appeared and talked with her like normal.

So there's Samantha, and the black girl who served me I learned was named Veronica. The well-endowed girl in the back I learned was Chloe, and I wanted to ask the glasses girl's name but felt too self-conscious about doing so. I paid my tab and left, nodding over at said girl and smiling before I left.

So with all that I can't recommend ELP more than enough, if just for the pleasant atmosphere of being surrounded by pretty naked girls, or the unique experience and challenge of embracing it as normal. And the pizza was good. I might go back tomorrow (my waist isn't getting any thinner, anyway).

September 13th

I don't know if it's because of my blog update or not (I would like to think it is) but business is bangin' at ELP lately. I've gone several more times. I've practically given up on packing my lunch to work. It's not like I get many people through the door anyway. Now maybe it was also because I came in a little later than before, but the floor was packed, and there was even another girl I had not seen before, a little short and stocky with very wide, ambly breasts that rivaled Chloe's in size and weight, and a shaggy, obtuse bush. I guess I shouldn't be too descriptive here, but that's what she looked like. She had really chubby cheeks (on her face!) and kind of a goofy smile. She didn't serve me, or otherwise I would have gotten her name. She ran the floor with the skinny girl with the glasses.

Veronica greeted me as usual, not smiling as much (in her serious mode, I guess) but I think she was glad to see that I was becoming a regular.

Things were a lot more boisterous, with other patrons lined up at the bar and cracking jokes and laughing with Sam and Veronica. I sort of got lost in the shuffle. I overheard one scraggly older man to my left joke with Veronica, asking if Chloe back there ever rolled the dough in her boobs, and that made me frown. I wanted to stand up and defend what Samantha had outlined to me, that this was not a sexual place, but Veronica played it cool. Surprisingly cool. She just said "No, her breasts are too springy. You'd want someone like Katy to do that."

Katy was apparently the new girl I had seen. She didn't offer to roll the dough in her breasts; it had all seemed like a joke. The same as when a guy sitting in a booth nearby received his plate from Veronica and when she was gone, he cried "hey! there's a pubic hair on my pizza!" and the whole restaurant laughed.

"That must have been Chloe," Veronica called back, and Chloe's high voice came from the kitchen as she leaned back and shouted out in my view: "Sorry!" More laughter. It was sure a strange atmosphere now, but it didn't hamper my enjoyment. The pizza was good as always, though mine did not have any pubic hair garnish. I ended up staring at Chloe's dark triangle and tan hips as she worked in the kitchen, and then I felt bad about it and looked down at my plate. I didn't really know how to act now. That sort of affected my next visit, where I quietly came in and only spoke when spoken to, and I would sit and enjoy my pizza, enjoy the sights, and I quickly wasn't feeling the normalcy that Sam was pushing. I didn't know if it was me or not. I would still recommend going to ELP, though, because maybe it was just me.

September 14th

Okay, so maybe pizza every day is a little bit too much. Having some digestive issues because of it, and the office doesn't smell too swell, either. Maybe that's why nobody stays long. I do miss my girls...

September 19th

Today was a sour day for ELP, and for me. I was surprised to see the glasses girl standing outside when I arrived (but she wasn't nude, don't get too excited). She was scrubbing the glass windows,  where something had been written in pink paint. I could make out an S, an L, and a U, and the girl was vigorously scrubbing out what came after that, which I'm sure I don't have to finish spelling out for you.

"What happened?" I asked her. With an exasperated sigh, she explained the obvious: they had been vandalized overnight. Seems the girls' popularity lately has gained them some unwanted attention, as well. "What a damn shame," I said. "That's horrible." Perhaps selfishly, I asked if that meant they had to cover up now.

"Oh no," the glasses girl said. "It's all the same in there. I just had to get dressed to come out here."

I was relieved, but still soured by anger now. How could people do this to these nice girls? Just because they were displaying their bodies doesn't mean it's okay to call them sluts.

"Well, I hope the rest of the day goes better, uh...."

"Kendra," she told me. So her name was Kendra. I felt just a little happier as I stepped inside to the familiar sight of Sam and the others going about their day. It was moderately busy inside. I wondered if any of the people sitting in there could have been the vandals. Hopefully it wasn't one of you, dear readers. I would feel horrible if my promotion of ELP led to them getting harassed like this.

I vented about it with Samantha and Veronica as I sat at the bar, and they glumly summarized the news but didn't elaborate much more. They seemed like they were busy with something, both of them very focused, as I munched contentedly on my pepperoni slice and contented myself with only passing glances up or past their tan bodies, quite a marvel even still just to see moving and going about the body’s work. I think I learned how to look but not stare. If only others could learn as well.

Before I left, I got to see Kendra re-enter, walk behind me and around the bar, and disappear inside the kitchen, only to reappear moments later, undressed and how I was used to seeing her, and it made my heart skip a beat all over again. Her slim waist with a faint vertical line bisecting her navel, traveling down to the perfect shape of her hillock and the narrow growth of darkness... perfectly aesthetic. Before I finished, I made it a point to nod and say goodbye to her as she cleaned up a table, and she looked up, as if surprised, and gave a sort of non-committal nod. They all had a lot on their minds, and a lot to deal with, and I sympathize with them. I would hope you, dear readers, sympathize with them as well. They are running a perfectly clean little business.

September 20th

I've been thinking about what happened at the pizza joint today, and it just doesn't sit right with me. The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. Doesn't it piss off you? I wish there was something I could do to show my solidarity with them. I guess I could donate money, though I've already been spending quite a lot of money at their place. There has to be something. Feel free to comment with ideas!

September 23rd

Well this was a horrible day, probably the most horrible day I've ever had, and it put an end to all the nice things that have been going on. Please allow me to vent...

So I went in like always, fearing the worst as I walked up the block to the shopping center where ELP lay, but there was no graffiti on the windows this time, which was good, and that bode inaccurately well for that day. All the girls were naked as I entered. There was a party of four or five that Kendra was serving, and I said "hi" as I passed by, and she just sort of looked at me. Katy, who was crossing my path, was very exuberant (she almost made me jump with how suddenly she appeared; one isn't always ready for a busty naked girl just inches in front of them). She seems like a happy-go-lucky girl, probably the happiest there besides Chloe, though she spends most of her time in the kitchen. I can always hear her humming back there.

I had had time to think since the last day I was there, and it was with nervous energy that I walked to the bar and sat down and worried about when I would choose to display my solidarity with the girls. I started by voicing my displeasure still that they had to be vandalized, though Sam and Veronica didn't seem concerned anymore. It was as if they had already moved past it. But I hadn't. Maybe I was a little overzealous. I thought that, right then, and cooled my jets a little, but eventually, after Veronica brought me my pizza and she took a breather by the bar, taking up a glass of water that had been hiding behind it and delicately holding the straw with two fingers as she drank from it, eyes looking over at the five-top that Kendra was serving, the glass placed almost perfectly between her dark breasts (it was a very photogenic scene, and I almost wished it would have been socially acceptable for me to snap a picture, maybe put it up on their wall, or print it in the local newspaper to attract more customers), she finally spoke to me again.

"What was it you did again? You work just up the street, but I forgot."

I proudly told her I ran a photo-manipulation studio, and that I would be glad to offer my services to them anytime they wanted. Perhaps they would want to run a positive PR campaign to undo the damage done by the angry mob.

"Oh, I'm not too worried about them," Veronica said. But her eyes were constantly darting around; it was as if she was worried somebody would come storming up to the door at any moment and disrupt their business. I let myself go a little, then.

"It's not fair, though," I said. "It's not fair that you guys should have to deal with that. You're just running a clean little business."

"You gotta expect flack when you stand out from the crowd," Veronica said. "You get used to it. It comes with the territory."

"It shouldn't have to, though," I told her. "You guys don't need to be alone in this."

"Oh, we're not alone," she said, cracking a smile and motioning out to the floor and her loyal customers.

"That's not good enough," I told her. "Because it still makes you the center of attention." I got to thinking a lot about the things that Samantha had said when she told me about her idea of starting the business, and her ideas were running through my head now. "The way I see it, if you guys are going to be naked, I think everybody should be naked."

Veronica cracked a smirk again, and her eyes traveled up to the ceiling as she pictured what I had proposed.

"A nice idea,' she said. "Though it would be even harder to do."

"Nonsense," I said. "It's as easy as this." And I made the most challenging decision right then, one I had been mulling over for a day. I pushed back my stool and stood, and I unbuttoned my shirt. Veronica's smile disappeared and her eyebrows shot up with worry, but I already had my shirt off before she could say anything. And none of the diners seemed to notice until I had my pants down, too, my shoes kicked off at the bottom of the stool and my clothing piled on top of it, and I settled back onto the barstool.

"There," I said. "Now we're equal."

I had the feeling that I had made a mistake when Veronica continued to stare in disbelief, and when I noticed the stares of the other diners out of the corner of my eye. It felt incredibly scary but also comfortable to be sitting there, with nothing touching my skin except for the leather seat, the air conditioning bringing up goosebumps on my arms, my belt no longer cutting into my belly and allowing me to lean closer into the bar, the incredibly airy feeling at my lap, knowing that all of me was free. Then Samantha came out, did a double-take, and said: "oh hell no."

Everything happened so fast then. Veronica seemed to snap into action, and told me to get dressed right away. I protested, and that seemed to make her angry. She came around the bar and I stood, suddenly alarmed, flustered at having her approach me, my bare skin nearly in contact with her bare skin. She bent down (her face passing very closely by my genitals) and she rose with my clothes and shoes and thrust them into my arms.

"Get out," she said, and the anger in her voice hurt me. We were just beginning to have a nice heart-to-heart conversation. I didn't know what to do, but she started pushing me. The touch of her cold hands on my shoulder was like lightning, and as I turned all the way, she kept pushing on my back and I wasn't excited by the contact anymore, just shamed as I passed the five-top and barely able to look at any of those displeased-looking people in the eye. I was shoved out the front door, naked, and quickly got dressed before anybody outside noticed me. Then I stood by the door, thought about going back in, and then just walked back to the office, ready to cry. I closed up for the day and I'm still sitting in there, typing this. It seems my time as a customer at ELP is over, but at least they might live on...

Mr. Badger Williams now faces a charge of public indecency for his display at Everybody Loves Pizza, and for his appearance outside its doors in the nude. This all comes on the cusp of whether that business can remain open as it currently exists, but that is a separate case. It certainly brings up questions about the appropriateness of public nudity in our country, and where the line lies between innocence and vulgarity. Some might point out a double standard in this situation, for women to be given more leniency to show themselves, while others point out the increased scrutiny the employees of ELP faced. Others might say they were the ones sexualizing their bodies while Mr. Williams was the one with the right frame of mind. Which is it for you? I trust the jurors to be enlightened enough to understand that the situation isn't black and white, and maybe, with the acquittal of Mr. Henderson and hopefully the allowance of ELP to continue what they do, we can all as a society look at things more reasonably...

The Naked Storm

It was a curious thing that happened across most of the northern hemisphere that had people scratching their heads. Solar flares, violent downdrafts, global warming, and space aliens were all considered as causes, but science had no concrete explanation for why isolated disturbances in the atmosphere were cropping up, stirring sudden wind and rain, and—most alarmingly—making people's clothes fly off and shred apart. It was as if the gods were voyeuristic and displeased with society’s modesty, no longer content to spy on people in the bathroom or bedroom. A group of people could be enjoying a fine, cloudless summer day, when out of nowhere, dust and debris would swirl all around them, lightning would flash from nowhere, and into the whirlwind would go their clothes, forcibly ripped from their bodies and into shreds, and then the storm would dissipate and the victims would be left with the opportunity to get a tan.

While scientists and governments became overwhelmed with the problem, the other fallout from this sudden phenomena was that groups started to form, small uncentralized groups of guys, "naked storm chasers," as they became called (not like the naked storm chasers of another of P.A. Choi's stories[i]), young men who were already familiar with meteorological equipment, former tornado chasers or friends of the like, who would band together in trucks equipped with radar and target potential areas that might get hit, potential areas with a large population of young women to gawk at, and they would take pictures just as if they were a prized sight of a magnificent tornado. So a new unfortunate hobby developed. "Naked storm footage" was soon a trending keyword on many porn sites and social media. Issues of privacy came up, with some vocal perverts touting that this was all in public, so it was fair game, so it became a common sight on the internet for photos depicting groups of young women hugging themselves and clutching at their crotches as the shreds of their clothes flew away behind them and the uninterrupted hue of their skin tone was all that remained for the camera to see. Of course the cameras caught men, too, and there were quite a number of smiling bystanders to catch sight of a random hunk or sexy dad, some embarrassed to have been caught in the naked storm, others quite amused (and soon aroused) by their sudden nudity. But it was women, mainly, who were the target of the roving bands of storm chasers, women whose bodies were sought after and obsessed over, as has been for the course of current society.

In one such group, our "hero," Mike, bounces in the passenger's seat of a red double-cab pickup truck as his friends hoot and holler at the coming spectacle. The laptop in the center console displays the red-orange-green blob of the coming storm and the driver cheers. Their target (or more accurately, the storm's target): a local park, semi-secluded, out at the edge of town. It was a known hangout for hipsters and art chicks who liked to come and lay in the grass while reading or arting on their tablets. The guys were sure to score here.

They weren't always so lucky; they had no choice in where the storms would crop up, but since they had been cropping up more and more frequently across North America, Central Europe, and Eastern Asia, all they had to do was frequent areas where they would potentially have a lot of photogenic targets, and the storm would come, as it would now.

But they had to be careful; get too close inside the dome of the naked storm, and the hunters would be rid of their clothes as well. It had happened a couple of times, to much laughter and finger-pointing as embarrassed naked guys, not able to take the reversal of the situation, scrambled back to their trucks. It had never happened to Mike and his crew, and they didn't intend on it happening. "I don't wanna see you naked, dude," one of them had said to the other. "I ain't gay or nuthin." Indeed, they all made pains to not "be gay" as they sat inches from each other and bumped into each other and spent the entire day in each other's close company, hunting for naked skin. Soon their bounty was ahead.

"We're here," the driver said. "And it's about to start."

Ahead of them was the narrow lane for parked cars and the wide expanse of vibrant green, losing color as the sky gradually darkened. Out past a few planted trees, there was one lone girl laying on her stomach, her feet kicking back behind the rise of her bottom in its denim shorts, and a book was laid out before her. She looked affectionately nerdy, her hair shoulder-length and jet-black, a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and her head turned upwards with alarm at the changing conditions, and possibly the sound of the approaching truck.

"Here we go," Mike said, tapping the laptop screen. "We stop here."

The driver slowed the truck and prepared to pull into a parking spot

"Get off the pavement, though, that part's gonna get slammed."

"For real?"

"Yeah, look."

The blob on the radar screen had a kidney shape. They were never perfect circles. The form of the storms was always random, and, again, a mystery. "Alright," the driver said, and he took the truck, probably quite illegally, onto the grass of the park, and the girl out on the field less than a hundred yards away stood, alarmed, knowing what was up. Mike and the others spilled out of the truck with their cameras and telephoto lenses, looking above and all about, waiting for the storm to start. The wind started to whip up, and blots of fresh rain hit Mike's cheeks. That was always a problem: when the rain came, it made it hard to get great photos, as it would dot their camera lenses. They had improvised little visors to solve that problem. They were a crafty bunch.

They got as close as they could, while out in the park, the girl grabbed for her book, and right as she bent over, the torrent of wind came down and her shorts and tank-top swirled off of her as if they had turned to dry leaves. She stood up abruptly, her paleness surrounded by the dissipating tornado of what she had once worn, the only thing left on her being her rubber sandals and black glasses. Her book, too, had vaporized into dust, a curious detail that, if Mike and his crew were scientists, they might have taken note of, but they were too focused on the dazzling sight: the girl's hair flipping in the wind as she stood there in full view, so candid, and captivating. What had filled her tank-top now was free, and still youthfully upwards-facing, and her thin waist was no longer broken up by the separation between her tank-top's midriff and the over-sized waist of her shorts, which no longer hid the dark strip as black as the hair atop her head, framed by milk-white thighs tapering down along her thin legs, which were placed close together, knees pointed in as a palm slapped over her just-glimpsed pubic hair took her other arm covered her chest and she sort of crouched, with nowhere to go, and in that one instance, as Mike stepped ahead of all the others and got the amazing shot, he lowered his camera and felt bad suddenly. They usually photographed girls in groups, and they typically either ran or cussed the guys out. But here, with the girl cornered, essentially, he felt like a predator. Then he felt a sudden heat on his chest, and the wind whipped up around him.

"Oh shi—"

His shirt tore off his chest in seconds. His jeans were more resilient, but were soon slipped off in long strands that circled around him. His bright, striped boxers never had a chance to be revealed, for they vaporized like ashes, leaving his dangly bit and his pubic hair in full view. He dropped his camera.

"You got too close, dude!" one of his friends yelled behind him, then suddenly: "Oh shit!"

Mike turned to see his friends cowering and covering themselves just as the girl had, their clothes fading in wisps of dissolving clouds around them.

"What the fuck! You led us astray, man!"

Mike shook his head, tried to say something, but couldn't think. The rain was suddenly hammering down on them and the driver jumped in the truck and started the engine. Did he lead them astray? Or did the storm just move? He looked back to where the girl was and saw that she was fleeing, her bounding butt being what his eyes instantly drew to, and she disappeared around a big tree.

The tires were spinning. Mike turned around and saw the rear left one feebly trying to get grip on the muddy rivet it was creating. He realized he was standing there with his thing dangling free and instinctively moved his hands to cover himself, remembering that he was naked.

"We're stuck!" his friend behind the wheel said. "Give us a push, man!"

His other friends were already in the truck, and nobody got out, probably not willing to unless they had to, so Mike approached the rear of the vehicle and leaned into it. His sneakers were still on his feet (though the hems of his socks were gone), so he was able to get a decent grip on the ground as he pushed. The engine gunned, the tires spun mercilessly, and torrents of mud splashed up cold on Mike's crotch and stomach.

"Ugh!" He took a step back, but the truck lurched forward. All four tires spun and more mud was cascaded on him, and then the truck sped off, leaving him, dumbfounded, standing naked in the rain.

No fucking way, he thought. Were they really abandoning him? He ran after the truck as it turned onto the pavement and sped away from where it had come, and there was no way to catch up now, though Mike began to run easily enough with his sneakers, but felt vulnerable and ridiculous with his penis flapping around as he ran, and he slowed down and watched the taillights go around a bend and disappear. Un-fucking-believable. Was it because they believed he had led them astray? Was it because they were too self-conscious about their own nudity to allow yet another naked guy in? Or perhaps they were just blind in their fear. Either way, he was on his own, and the rain thinned out and didn't finish washing off the mud, leaving his body streaked with brown and his skin peppered with gooseflesh. Then there was movement ahead and another vehicle—a blue sedan—entered the park. Mike froze up and then turned tail and ran, leaving whoever was driving with a  departing sight of his naked butt, much as the girl had left him. He didn't know if the people behind the wheel were naked or not, but it didn't matter. He was not ready for this. He ran past where the truck had been stuck in the mud, lowering his eyes to look for any remnants of his clothes, but they were all gone. Had his cell phone been in his pocket, it may have been sitting there on the ground, but he had left it in the center console of the truck. He was without anything except his shoes, and the camera that still lay there, its lens busted. He ran past it and into the park, looking for a place to hide, knowing he was plainly in sight (again, just as the girl had been) running through the open grass. He veered for a big tree, and looked over his shoulder to see the blue sedan pulling into a parking spot facing the field, and he panicked and ran faster. The tree—a thick weeping willow—was within reach, and Mike sprinted and then kicked his legs out and slid along the wet grass like a baseball player going for home base, and he slid and smacked right into another bare and wet body.

The black-haired, bespectacled naked girl shrieked and pushed him away so that he rolled out on the grass out of cover from the tree, just long enough for him to turn his head and see the car doors of the sedan opening. He sat right back up and brought himself to face the girl, putting his finger to his lips and apologizing to her, and as she sat there, her knees drawn up to her chest (and a phone in her hands, he noticed), recognition came into her eyes and she blurted "you!” and sprang forward off her feet, revealing herself, and began hitting him with her phone.

"Ow! Ow! Hey!"

The first blow hit him right on the head, the next couple on the face. Then she traded her phone for her fists and began striking down on his shoulders and chest, all while he pleaded and tried to shield himself.

"You voyeuristic fucking son of a bitch!" she said with a final blow, then knelt there, heaving, and Mike dared a peek. Her breasts moved up and down with her breath, and seeing that his eyes had lowered, she reached out and struck him again.

"Ow, hey! Look, it's not like I'm the one that made you naked. We're in the same boat here!"

"I'm not following these storms around with a  fucking camera, you creep!"

Another, final blow hit him on the base of his neck as he cowered, and he sat there, looking at his knees in the grass.

"I know, I know, I deserve it, I'm sorry." He risked another glance up at the girl, making sure to look her in the eye. "I honestly felt kind of bad when it was just you out there all alone. Besides, I'm rolling with these three other guys, and they—"

"Don't dare try and push this on others. They're creeps, too, but you took the picture!" She hit him again.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, really."

"Only because you're naked, too."

"No, I was sorry right before that."

"I bet. Don't you try to get next to me!"

He had been shuffling on his knees to try and get fully behind the cover of the tree, and she shoved his chest and made him almost fall backwards again.

"Sorry, but there's a car full of people that just pulled in, and I—"

"Really? Damn." She picked her phone back up and looked at it, then tapped the screen in frustration and dropped it.

"I can't get any signal, I guess it's because of the storm. Otherwise I'd call my friend to bring me some clothes, but my car's right up the hill, and my keys—" She reached down and raised a jangling set of car keys which had apparently survived after her shorts had dissolved, "—are still here, and I figured I'd make a dash to my car."

"Not unless you wanna get seen."

She sighed and let her hands collapse on her knees. The keys jangled.

"I was already seen by you assholes. Who's up there, anyway?"

Mike leaned back, ever-conscious of his naked lap presented for this girl to look at as he did, and he saw the blue sedan sitting there, but nobody was near it, and it didn't look like anybody was inside.

"I don't know. They left their car. I don't know how many of them there are or where they went." He leaned back into the cover of the tree and the girl scooted away from him, her eyes darting down as his did, glimpsing his penis and shooting back up. "Wanna make a break for it?"

"You're not coming with me!" she said indignantly. "You get to walk."

"Come on, my friends abandoned me. You're the only help I have, and we’ve already seen each other." He said this with just a twitch of his eyeballs, trying to keep her youthful body out of his sight.

"Some friends, huh? Well I'm not your friend, either." She got up off her feet and stood before him, revealing herself in full now but not caring, every imagined detail from afar now up close and personal and rising above him, so that he was sitting there looking up past her snatch in a kind of awe. She looked down at him and snorted.

"See you on Twitter," she said, and she raised her phone, leveled it at him, and the camera flash blinded him. She lowered the phone and smirked at him, and Mike just nodded. He got it. He deserved it. At least he had been getting a little half-hard sitting there in her company, so that his dick wouldn't look too small on camera.

She stepped away from the tree, done addressing him, and then darted back and pressed herself against the trunk, her chest heaving in front of her and attracting Mike's eyes again, but she didn't notice this time.

"Yep, there are other people out there," she said. "And they're naked, too."

"Oh really?" Mike said, thinking back to whether or not the people in the car had suffered the storm. "They must have driven through it."

She eyed him, and then she peeked around the tree again. She obviously did not want to be seen, whether the viewing party was clothed are not. Mike recalled that he had felt the same way.

"Who is it? A bunch of guys?" he asked.

"No. It's a group. Guys and girls." She retreated behind the tree again and chewed her lip. Mike got to his feet and stood nervously next to her, the skin of their arms almost brushing against each other. The girl recoiled, but not enough to reveal herself from her hiding spot.

"Well it shouldn't matter, then, right?" he asked. "If they're all naked, too, then nobody will care."

The girl shot him an angry look.

"I'm a little self-conscious, okay?" she hugged herself, keeping his eyes from drifting to her breasts. "I don't really want to be seen like this, doesn't matter who it is."

Mike wanted to say well you look fine, but knew that he shouldn't, so he bit his tongue and chewed his lip, looking for the right words. He felt less and less self-conscious about his own body being bare; his arms were at his sides, his groin uncovered, and his arousal dissipated.

"Okay," he said. "What if I walk out with you? With two of us, you won't be the center of attention. We'll just be a normal naked couple."

Her eyes darted to him angrily and he knew he had chosen the wrong words.

"You know what I mean. I think it's less big of a deal than you think. Let's just get out of here, I'll make sure you don't get singled out."

"Says the guy who tried to single me out."

Mike shrugged and then moved in front of her to glance around the tree, and she shrank away from him. Indeed there was a mixed-gender group of people, a little older than he and the girl, in their thirties it looked like, running into the grass, buck naked, like happy, carefree children. There was a rather fit-looking guy, another male who was rather tubby but without shame, an equally-chubby girl, and a dashingly fit and attractive (and tan; bronze) woman, all of them different shapes, all of them probably hit with the storm while driving to the park and deciding that they didn't care. Mike retreated back behind the tree. The girl was probably safe from being singled out, but he kept his narrative.

"They don't seem to care, but if you're still shy, let me walk with you, and I'll keep them from staring, and in return, could you drive me to my house?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and actually smiled a bit, which was arousing all over again, since they were both naked. Mike fought with every mental capacity that he could to keep his arousal from showing.

"If nobody seems to care, then why don't you just walk home?" she asked.

"Well, I live twenty miles away..."

Her eyes narrowed further, and they had an intense staring match, until finally the girl’s features softened, her shoulders relaxed, and she waved her hand to follow. "Alright, come on," she said. "Let's hurry." She turned away from the tree and boldly faced the rest of the park, with Mike close on her heels. "Jesus, I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, though as they stepped out into the open, nobody was there to look at them. The girl was walking just ahead (much to Mike's guilt-ridden delight, seeing the bounce of her cheeks) and she cast a stern glance back to him that seemed to say "why do I even need you here?" since nobody was apparently around. Mike turned his eyes and saw the people in the distance out in the field, just faint, tan shapes, and their voices carried over the distance.

The girl's car beeped. They were right up on her little red Nissan Sentra. She scowled at him.

“You're all muddy.”

"I can't help it. You don't have a towel or something, do you?"

"No, and I wish I did even if you weren't muddy. I really don't want your nuts on my seat."

"I'm sorry..."

She scowled at him and then opened the driver's side door and leaned deep inside. She came out with a big metal water bottle and tossed it over the roof of the car at Mike, who barely caught it.

"There," she said. "Rinse off with that." Mike nodded and felt the heft of the bottle; there was probably enough water inside to do the job. As he unscrewed the lid, the thought went through his head just as the girl had earlier voiced: I can't believe I'm doing this, but he dumped the contents on his chest, down his abdomen, and shyly turned around to splash over his crotch and down his legs, slaking the mud off with his hand as he went. Never before did he feel more on display than at that moment, and as he turned around, the girl was watching from the other side of the car with her arms folded.

"You have some grass smears on your butt," she said.

"T-thanks.” He reached behind and splashed some water on his butt, and rubbed the grass stains out vigorously. The girl leaned down into the driver's seat.

"Get on in," she said, her voice becoming muffled. Mike opened the passenger's side door and watched as she settled into the seat of the cramped car, feeling a tinge of excitement to be cramming in there with her. He leaned down and got in.

"You can throw the bottle in the back."

He did, and then he shut the door.

"Wow, stick shift, huh?" he said, looking down at the center console and seeing the gearbox there.

"Yeah, what of it? It was cheaper to get it manual. Just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't drive stick."

"I never implied that," Mike said, grabbing for his seatbelt.

"Just no lewd stick-shift jokes though, okay?" she said.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Though as he buckled in, he fought over what to do with his hands, for his "stick" was laying there in plain view, and he thought of folding his hands in his lap to hide it, but that thought actually excited him, so he kept his hands away, but that excited him even more. The girl started the engine and backed out. Soon they were exiting the park.

"So where do I gotta go?" the girl asked him.

"Just get on 20 East. I'm about ten exits up."

She sighed. "Okay."

"I can like, PayPal you some gas money when I get back."

"Don't worry about it."

"What's your name, anyway? Mine's Mike."

The girl cast a glance over at him, and then back to the road as she pulled out.

"Daisy. Boy, I wonder if I'm gonna get in trouble for driving around naked."

"I don't think you'll be the only one. This storm was a big one. Besides, I think the police understand."

Daisy snorted and they drove in silence. Mike felt more and more comfortable sitting there with his lap exposed, his hands finally folded, but just above his penis, not bothering to cover it, not wanting to touch it.

"So what do you do, anyway?" he asked her next. She glanced over at him again with some disdain.

"Look, I'll do you this favor, but I'm not going to get to know you, okay? I don't care if we are both naked."

"Nothing like that," Mike put up his hands. "Just curious. What were you doing at the park?"

Daisy sighed.

"Reading, obviously, until the book dissolved in my hands."

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

"What were you reading?"

She glanced at him again. "A book on photography, actually."

"Oh, I love photography."

Now she scowled at him.

"I mean... besides that..."

"Uh-huh."

Mike wiped his hand through his hair, suddenly nervous, but Daisy, surprisingly, kept talking.

"I was always interested in it. I want to try to make that my main gig. Fuck waiting tables."

Mike lowered his hand again.

"You ever take any classes?"

Daisy shook her head. "No, but I have friends who've taught me a lot. I wanna start taking landscapes and see if I can sell them at local galleries, start there."

"That's pretty cool."

"Thank you."

As she talked about herself, Mike found the most alarming thing happening. It was preceded by a growing warmth towards her as she revealed more about herself as a person and not just the subject of his photo, but soon, to his terror, warmth was gathering at his lap, too, filling his penis with affection as well. Was this his body's way of saying he was beginning to like this girl, and not just showing its arousal at the situation? He had gotten used to being nude and with her being nude, so he didn't know why—

"Here's the downtown. I wonder if there are any other naked people?" she wondered aloud. She hadn’t noticed it yet. Mike avoided saying anything, because he didn't want to draw her eyes towards him again, so he just made a "hmmm" noise and figured out what to do with his hands. There was no way to covertly cover himself; his hands would either be hovering half a foot above his lap or wrapped around his erection as if that could hide it. So he tried to raise his left leg, prop his foot up a little against the base of the side console, anything to shield himself. Then, as they neared the downtown, Daisy reached over to downshift, and that's when she noticed.

"Hey! What'd I say? No stick-shift innuendos."

"I didn't say anyth—"

Jolting him with surprise, she reached over after downshifting and bapped her knuckles against his firm trunk.

"Yowch!"

"Bad!"

"I didn't mean it, it just happened..."

"Am I gonna really have to drive twenty miles with you hard as a rock next to me? This is really weird, you know."

"I'm over the naked part. You just started talking and... I dunno."

She glanced over and sympathy slowly took over her face, and then her eyes dropped and focused on his waving part, transfixed suddenly, and then the car lurched and they were both thrown forward in their seats.

"Goddammit."

The car in front of them had its brake lights on, and in front of it was a line of other cars, all stuck in the main drag of the downtown. Daisy sat frozen behind her steering wheel, cussing. Mike felt as if he were doomed. He'd be paying for a lot more than this girl's gas, and he was still awkwardly erect in her passenger's seat, right in the middle of town. His eyes drifted to his window to see if there were people walking around naked. He thought he saw a fleeting glimpse of somebody passing by.

"Shit, I can't get out like this," Daisy said. "This is all your fault!"

"I'm sorry, I—oh, look."

Up ahead, the owner of the car they had crashed into opened their door and got out. It was a young woman much the same as Daisy, right down to her lack of clothing. She stood up and peered over at them, her breasts very full, her stature very tall. She didn't seem angry or embarrassed.

"Well..." Daisy sat for a moment and then put on the emergency brake and opened the door, leaving Mike sitting by himself, waiting for his arousal to die down. He watched Daisy and the other girl approach each other, talk, and then Daisy laughed. Maybe it was going to be alright. Everybody was probably understanding in this tumult. As Mike looked out his window again, considering getting out as well, he saw the familiar red paint job of his friends' pickup truck, pulled into a diagonal spot in front of a bar. He saw two of his friends standing in the outdoor seating area, each holding a beer and pointing at the accident. They were still naked. The sight of them didn't phase him much, but it filled him with anger. He got out and they instantly saw and recognized him.

"Hey Mike! We were just waiting on you! Get over here!"

The summons made Mike think of Mortal Kombat more than friendly gestures, and he stormed over there to chew his friends out.

"What the hell were you guys thinking? You left me high and dry!"

"Sorry man, we were scared. But we’re all in the same boat now, so why don't we celebrate? Look:" he waved his hand to the sidewalks around them, where there were many naked women joining in the sudden nude festivities. Some were posing for pictures from phones hanging out the windows of cars, the source of the traffic slowdown. Others stood with guys in mixed-gender gatherings, just chatting. Everybody seemed to be having a great time.

His third friend came out from inside the bar and greeted Mike, asking him where he'd been, and Mike was about to reply, angrily, you goddamn know where I was, when Daisy stepped up.

"It's just a ding, you're lucky. Anyway, do you want to get going?"

All of Mike's friends froze as they recognized Daisy, now up close and personal.

"Actually, these are my friends. I guess I don't need a ride now." He turned a suspicious eye to them. "Right?"

"Oh you mean the friends that dumped you in that park?"

Mike ran his hand through his hair again, passing his eyes over Daisy's body, which she did not bother to hide in the presence of so many now. She stood in contrast to them, paler, daintier, delectable, but equal all the same.

"Yeah, those friends."

"And the friends who you chased me down with to get my picture?"

Now the other guys shuffled on their feet and avoided eye contact. Or any contact between eye and skin. They looked at their feet.

"Yeah, that's us."

The lead of the group spoke up. "Tell you what, we'll buy you a drink, each of us, to make up for it. How about that?"

"How about you all chip in to pay for the dent in my car—"

"That wasn't us."

"Pay for the dent in my car, and buy me a new copy of the book I lost, and okay, I'll take one drink, and then maybe I'll forgive and forget."

The guys all looked at each other, mulling it over.

"And no pictures!"

The lead guy shrugged.

"I guess there's no point in that anymore. Okay, deal. Come hang out with us."

"Let me park my car."

And so Mike found himself, surreally, hanging out with his buds, who an hour ago were paranoid about being naked in each others' company, and with Daisy, and the girl she had hit, and several other people, no longer distracted or focused on their bodies (somewhat; they were still pretty, that couldn't be denied), and they and the whole town enjoyed an afternoon of co-ed social nudity, and the world didn't end. In that part of town, nobody could tell when a naked storm came or not anymore, because everybody started to socialize naked. Mike, though, went home with unfulfilled lust still brimming, and sought how to relieve it, and considered Daisy's e-mail, attached to her PayPal address, which she had given the group, and he hesitated on contacting her. It had been a weird way to meet, but maybe...

The Naked Festival

Tanya was so nervous. When she stepped out of her house that Saturday afternoon, her skin almost burned like it was on fire. And soon, it would be burning from the rays of the sun and the gazes of a hundred eyes, as she was about to set off on an adventure that she had started when she submitted her suggestion to the parks and rec committee. She never thought that they actually would have accepted her idea. Either someone was asleep at the wheel, or there really were more people than she realized out there with the same mindset as her. Either way, Tanya almost convinced herself to turn back, but once she was on the road, and once she neared the park where her proposed event was to take place and saw a crowd dressed for the occasion, there was no way she could turn back.

*****

Dave tried to keep his kids' constant ranting in the back of his mind as he looked for a place to entertain them. He was forced to keep them with him for the day while he ran errands, and to keep them away for a few hours more so his wife, Vicky, could enjoy some peace and quiet, so after the kids had endured walking around Home Depot for thirty minutes and stopped by a few other stores (McDonald's being their highlight in between what was to them pointless detours), they were ready to find something interesting. Dave already felt tired, but even the crappy food digesting in young Susie and Jimmy's stomachs couldn't keep their energy at bay, and Dave drove through the quaint wooded area of their town, heading, he knew, past the park, where maybe he could stop and let them play, and even sneak a nap for himself. Or at least some downtime on a bench while he played with his phone, looking for hookups to distract him from his wife. He could deal with time spent that way. It would be somewhat of a rest.

But as he slowed down due to traffic in front of him, his eyes glanced over to his left, where the park could be seen through the gaps in the trees, and his eyes suddenly widened. There, clearly glimpsed, was so much bare skin that it could not be disputed: these people weren't walking around in shorts or tube-tops. There had to be at least a hundred people, and they were all naked. So that's why the traffic is slowing, he thought. Better get out of here, though, before his kids—

"Wow, look, they're all naked!" Timmy's voice came excitedly from the back seat.

Crap, Dave thought. So much for getting out of there without them noticing. But what the hell was going on?

Susie was silent in the back, and Dave could picture her quizzical face as she no doubt stared past her brother out the window, and Dave glanced up at the rear-view to see that familiar look, the look of a child who assessed the world with a stubborn skepticism, unlike her wide-eyed younger brother.

"Why are they naked?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"I don't know, honey, but we should get out of here. How can they even allow something like this out in the open?"

It's not like he expected his kids to answer that.

The vehicles in front moved inch-by-inch, and Dave felt like slamming down on the gas and pushing them out of the way, anything to get him out of this situation, which would for sure put him in the awkward position to answer questions from Vicky, who would no doubt be hearing tales of debauchery from her kids. Soon, the black SUV in front of him sped through the stop sign, where, as it cleared, Dave saw a man standing on the side, next to a sign with big, bold letters drawn in black marker: “Nudist Festival today!” Out of intuition, Dave rolled down his window as he came to a stop.

"Hi!" the man called, waving.

"I'm sorry, this is a what? Am I reading that right?"

"Yes you are, sir, come on in, admission's free."

"That's okay, I got kids with me. Besides—"

"Oh that's fine, they're welcome. This is a family-friendly event. Just in case you had the wrong idea."

"How in the world is this family-friendly?"

The man lost some of his smile and switched his attention to a car coming to a stop from the opposite direction. Dave was about to step on the gas, ready to say "Well, that sure was weird," when Timmy shouted, "I wanna go!"

"No buddy, this isn't the type of place to take you guys. Plus, your mother would kill me."

"Aw, he said it was fine!"

"I think there's a difference of opinion on what is 'fine' or not."

"We won't tell Mom if she's not gonna like it, please? It looks fun."

Why was he arguing with them? He was the one who had the power here.

'Well bud, I don't think your sister wants to." He glanced up at the rear-view to see Susie's neutral face, and a car approaching behind them. She surprised him when she said: “I wanna go, too. I can't see anything from here.”

The car behind them settled to a stop. He had been sitting at the stop sign for a while now. The car in the other lane had already turned into the park and the man by the sign was looking at him again.

"Don't hold up traffic now!" he called. Dave's foot touched the gas pedal, hesitated, and then he gripped the wheel and moved forward slowly, and swung his truck into the park.

"Fine, we'll go take a look," he said, and the kids cheered. Maybe there'll be lots of naked women, he thought, suddenly looking forward to it. He wouldn't need to use his phone to seek out an affair now.

The parking area was a long strip and was halfway filled with cars, some pasty, hairy older people walking away from them, already nude, towards the big open grassy field to their left, which was peppered with bare skin tone as people walked around. Or ran around, as there were definitely kids there playing and screaming in delight. Dave furrowed his brow. How could an event like this not be a lightning rod for predators? He was sure not going to let Susie and Timmy run around like that for anybody to see. Their eyes were all over, looking ahead at the old people moving to the sidewalk, then back out to the field, shouts of "look!" and "wow!" echoing inside the truck. Dave drifted down the lane and found a spot to pull into, and sat there looking at the naked scene in his rear-view. His dreams of having eye candy fizzled away, as this looked like the most un-erotic scene he could associate with being naked: just bunches of lumpy people and children and everybody just having a normal summer day as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in their undress.

Hmmph. Weird. Nudists were weird. Dave was quite surprised there were so many people open to clothes-free recreation in this town. Maybe it was something everybody secretly wanted. Was he the only one who didn't feel that way?

"Come on, let's go," Timmy urged, and Dave sighed and took his key out of the ignition.

"Alright, stay close."

They got out of the truck and Dave hurried to put himself between Timmy and Susie, each of his hands in one of theirs, and they slowly walked to the edge of the park, where a table was set out and a long tent with food displayed. Dave held his kids' hands tight as he swiveled his head, not ready to greet any naked people up close.

There was a friendly-looking [naked] old man sitting at the table as they approached, whispy gray hair on his chest and even less on his head, and thankfully the rest of him was hidden behind the table, so Timmy and Susie weren't assaulted by the sight of an old man's balls right away. The man put up a hand, though, as they got ready to pass the table.

"Hi folks, welcome, you can just leave your clothes in your car. Or you can bring them with you to sit on."

"Oh, we're just looking," Dave said, his eyes darting away from the naked man to the park, where there were endless naked people, so he darted his eyes back to the man. He was uncomfortable talking to him like this, and he tightened his hand on Susie’s, wishing she didn’t have to see this man up close. He looked down and saw that she was staring, wide-eyed, neutral, her feelings a mystery.

"Well, this is a nude-only event,” the man continued. “You're free to come in, but you have to be unclothed.”

Dave tensed and took a step back. His other hand tightened on Timmy's now because he could feel him wanting to pull away.

"I know it sounds a little forward," the man continued, "but it's for a good reason. It keeps voyeurs from coming in. Seems people that want to come to gawk typically don't like getting undressed themselves. Here everybody's equal. This is a safe place, don't worry."

Dave nodded, but he knew this was the end of the line for them. No way was he going to take off his clothes in front of his kids, let alone let them do it. "Thanks," he said, and began to back away, but then Timmy's hand slipped out of his.

"Tim!"

In a split second, Timmy's T-shirt was off, falling behind him as he ran forward, kicking his sandals off and then slipping both legs out of his shorts somehow in stride without missing a beat, and in a flash, he was naked as when he was born, a sight usually only seen at bath-time, now bathed in the warm light of the sun as he sprinted over the grass.

*****

Tanya walked among the throng of people, feeling energized but calm at the same time. While she had been to a few nude beaches, this was a much different type of environment. The people were closer, the eye contact constant, and she smiled at old couples as they passed by waving, but she felt like she was inappropriate walking through the crowd naked and attractive as she was. There was no foul, though. It didn't matter if you were fat or thin or old or young, or hideous or as stunning as a Playboy model, here everybody was treated the same, and even though they were treated the same, Tanya knew there were eyes on her, for she had to be a stunning sight. She was young, in her mid-twenties, and she took good care of herself, so there was hardly a flaw on her skin, and her shape was every male-gaze fantasy embodied, now bare for anybody to gaze at. It somewhat excited her, knowing that she was practically flaunting by just being there, but the presence of so many people as naked as her, so many average-looking people and happy children and even dogs running back and forth added a feeling of normalcy to everything so that she soon felt at ease. She had stopped and talked with some of the other people that she had communicated with to organize this event, took a small sampling of the potluck lunch, and watched as a very toned and handsome man played frisbee with his golden retriever, a beautiful sight not only because of the beautiful man (and his somewhat mesmerizing member swinging freely) but because of the innocence in it and the joy of his dog who did not care if his owner was naked. If there was anybody that would use a pup to help draw in the ladies, this man looked like the one to do it, for what better way to attract a girl was there than to show off your cute pet and your perfect body? But the man seemed only intent on enjoying the day.

She had helped make all this happen, and she was proud. It had started on a local community bulletin board, where she identified other nudist enthusiasts and continued on to private discussion and planning. But still, they were only a handful of people. It was her who contacted the parks and rec. She figured it would be a long gauntlet of refusals until she and her group got wings. She was surprised by how many other people in the town practiced nudism. Perhaps everybody secretly wanted to be able to enjoy the fresh air and life-giving sun without the restrictions of clothes, because she now was doubly impressed by the turnout. She had been so worried about outcry from the community, especially since this was planned to be an all-ages event. Maybe that outcry was yet to come. Anybody, though, who had issue with it, she thought, could come see for themselves. This was the most innocent and wholesome of events, and she was thankful that she could walk on the grass and feel the sun warm every part of her without having to worry about what others would think.

She was turning away from the sight of the man playing with his dog when a tiny body slammed into her thighs and bounced back. It was a little boy, perhaps eight, and he stood back and gazed up at her with wide-eyed wonderment.

"Hey there," she said, awkwardly aware of how she looked to him. It seeded doubt about this event in her mind. "Be careful where you run."

Just then, a man, wearing cargo shorts and a button-up shirt, trailing by the hand a little girl dressed in shorts and a blouse, came up.

"Timmy there you are, you—"

He stopped at the sight of Tanya and was just as mystified as the boy. She could see his throat undulate as he gulped.

"I'm sorry, he got away from me," the man said.

"That's alright, he was just playing."

The boy remained where he stood, and the father had to creep forward to take his hand. The contact seemed to break whatever trance Tanya had on the kid. His clothes were draped over his apparent father's shoulder and he took down the first article and shoved it into his boy's chest.

"Here, Tim, put this on."

But the boy was still transfixed by Tanya. She blushed and felt a little guilty, and made to turn away before politely waving goodbye, when Chet, the front desk volunteer, came trotting up, his grand belly shaking animatedly.

"Good, you found him," Chet said, panting. The father turned and recoiled at the sight of the naked old man and Tanya found it all funny and stifled a laugh. She watched the boy and girl's eyes travel to the man and then back to her. The girl was as transfixed by her as the boy, perhaps imagining herself grown and looking like Tanya one day. She wasn't phased in the slightest by the nude man near her.

"T-thanks," the father said, tearing his eyes away from Tanya and then tearing them away from Chet, unable to look anywhere without seeing naked skin. "I guess we'll be going."

"Here, I'll show you out," Chet said, gesturing a hand, doing his best to ensure gawkers didn't try to come to the festival. It was his job, but it was clear to Tanya that this man and his kids weren't here for the wrong reasons. She watched as the boy tugged on his father's hand, starkly contrasting from him and his sister because of his seamlessly naked skin, saying "no, I wanna stay, I wanna stay," and Chet laughed and said "kids always love it," and then they moved farther away and she couldn't hear what the father said back, and then she turned from them and looked over the rest of the park, sighing. The only thing this event was missing was water. Even an inflatable pool would suffice. She made a mental note to suggest it to the parks and rec if the event had the luck of repeating next year.

She looked over her shoulder again and couldn't see the father and his kids anymore. It was tugging at her; she wished they could stay and enjoy the event. It wasn't just for people who were already nudists, but for people who were curious about it, or people who might have the wrong idea about it but would have the chance to see what it was all about. She wanted to pursue the man and invite him to stay, but she knew her appearance would make him nervous, and it would probably give him the wrong idea. She sighed again. At least the boy had a brief burst of fun. He had looked so happy. At least, before he bumped into her. That still bothered her, but she decided it was important for a young man to get used to the sight of a naked woman, lest he grow up to covet the sight and turn something natural into a perversion. That thought made her feel better, and she turned again to enjoy the day, seeing that somebody had dragged out a garden hose, spraying children as they happily ran through the falling droplets. She hurried up to go join them.

*****

"Look, Dad, they got a hose," Jimmy said.

"Great. We're still going. You had your fun. Now get dressed, kid."

Dave was annoyed that Timmy was staying persistently naked as they neared the edge of the park. The fat old man had broke away to mingle, and Dave was glad for it, because he didn't like his dangly bits dangling so close to his daughter. His daughter, Susie, who now was turning and looking back where Timmy was pointing, where other children their age were skipping through a fan of water.

"I wanna try it," she said, surprising Dave.

"No, I think we've had our fill."

"I haven't!"

"Jesus, your mom's really gonna kill me."

He thought back to just moments ago and the knockout of a young woman that had stopped Timmy and greeted him. He couldn't get her out of his head. If there was one thing to be thankful for in going on this little mini-excursion, seeing her was it. She was so perfect, like she had stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Her skin was flawless and tan, with not a single pale impression from a bathing suit. Her breasts were hypnotizing; smallish, but buoyant, pointing upwards, and she had a pleasing triangle of untrimmed hair between her thighs. It made him quiver. Maybe we should go back...

"Dad, come on," Susie now pleaded, and he had two children eager to join in on the fun. He felt helpless. He stopped. He was on the verge of saying "okay." But that would mean Susie would now have to adapt the dress code of the event, and he didn't like the prospect of that. He was uncomfortable enough with Timmy bare-naked by his side; it was a side of him he really didn't like seeing. And if they stayed, that would also mean he himself would have to get naked, and that was a prospect he was also not keen on, especially if he found himself in the presence once again of that young woman.

He let Susie's hand slip out of his, and then Timmy's. They both stood watching him, waiting for his decision.

"Okay," he said.

"Yay!" Timmy yelled, and turned to bolt towards the group with the garden hose.

"But stay close to me!" Dave yelled out, and Timmy dug his heels in the grass. He turned and looked at his father, waiting, and Susie went ahead and initiated their commitment to stay. Not as lightning-quick as her brother had done, she casually pulled off her shirt, and Dave had the urge to turn away. He looked at the other people around the edge of the park, even more people walking in, already naked, and people were actually starting to stare at him. He hunched his shoulders in embarrassment and looked to the soon-to-come embarrassment of having to undress. Not that he should be embarassed; he took care of himself. He was not ashamed of his body and had not been shy about revealing it to the women he'd slept with. But the situation was different here. The thought of it made him feel... emasculated.

When he turned again Susie was already skipping ahead with her brother, both side-by-side, her clothes and sandals left discarded on the ground.

"Hey!" he called, and he scooped up Susie's clothes. "Don't run off!"

They didn't look back.

"Shit."

He started to run, with his kid's clothes overflowing in his arms, and he knew he would cause a stir, so he stopped by a vacant fold-out table and sat the clothes there. Then he quickly got out of his.

Can't believe I'm doing this, he thought as he unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, kicked off his shoes, and then raised a foot at a time to take off his socks, which grass already clung to. He could see Timmy and Susie with the group of kids at the garden hose, and the young woman was there, holding the nozzle and happily fanning it so the kids could dash through the spray. It was a strangely beautiful sight, the droplets of water shining on all the bare skin, the laughter of the kids traveling in the air, but the woman contrasted from the smaller humans around her, undeniably attractive, astounding, and unashamed. She almost looked like a mystical guardian tending to her children, all nude in some sort of fantasy setting. It looked like a painting.

When one of the kids was handed the hose and it was turned on the young woman, who spun around and let her hair fly, Dave had to look away, for he did not want to get aroused. He turned and leaned over the table and collected his breath. He dared not look up because he was sure people were staring at him. Then he decided to get it over with and he swiftly pulled down his shorts, and his boxers underneath, all in one fell swoop, and he stepped out of them.

The feeling of the air on his ass was striking, and the feeling of the rest of him hanging free, hidden behind the table, terrified him. He actually felt his legs shake a little. Then he raised his head.

In the shade of the tent in front of him, people walked casually, carrying empty food trays. One of them noticed him and came over.

"You can leave those there if you want," the round old woman said, nodding down to his kids' clothes on the table.

"Thanks.” Dave crouched down to collect his shorts. "My kids are over there and I don't want to go back to my truck."

"Your stuff will be safe here."

He nodded and added his clothes and shoes to the pile and the lady smiled at him and walked off, thankfully, because he found it awkward to stand before her and try to make eye contact above her distractingly large and flappy breasts. That did it for any displays of arousal, he figured, and he turned around. All before him were a hundred people all the same as him, and he was no longer stared at. With a big breath, he stepped forward and headed for the kids.

He passed by other people, young couples in their thirties, men a little older than him and amazingly more fit. They all smiled and waved, and he did, too. There were a few other attractive women about, which his eyes noticed but made an attempt to not stare at. And then he was before the group at the hose, where nearby, an old couple sat in fold-out chairs. A woman with a red perm and black shades sat with a towel draped across her lap, and a jovial old man with a hairy chest sat with his legs apart and a beer in hand as he laughed with a permanent smile on his face.

Dave looked ahead again. Timmy now had the nozzle, and he was spraying the young woman down, gazing up at her as droplets fell off of the slopes of her breasts. Jesus, he thought, and he trembled at the image. Then the young woman looked up and noticed him, and she waved. Timmy turned around, the spray of the hose directing elsewhere, and he waved, too. Dave returned the gesture and watched as Susie stepped up to her brother and they fought over the hose.

"Those your kids?" a husky voice asked. Dave turned to the couple sitting near him. The hairy man was looking at him.

"Yeah," Dave said, wanting to cover himself, but he kept his hands where they were. "They were begging to come here."

The man laughed. "It's a great idea for an event. We've been wanting something like this for a while, so we don't have to drive for two hours just to go to a resort.”

"Are you nudists?"

"Gee, how could you tell?" the man said, and he laughed. His wife smiled and let out a chuckle.

"This is all new to me," Dave said. He ran his hand through his hair. It felt so weird to be standing before somebody, bare as if he were about to pose to be painted.

"Have a seat," the man said. "If you want."

There were two vacant chairs next to the couple and Dave looked at them.

"Sure..."

He stepped forward.

"Oh, you got a towel?"

"Oh, I..."

"Nudist courtesy. We all sit on towels."

"Right. Uh, I can go get my shirt to sit on..."

The old man waved a hand.

"S'alright. Here, we have an extra one."

He sat his beer in the little drink holder on the chair's armrest and leaned over to dig into a big canvas bag that sat between him and his wife, along with a cooler. The man unfurled a colorful beach towel and tossed it on the vacant chair nearest him.

"There ya go."

"Thanks," Dave said, and he approached, feeling very awkward to be standing so close to the man with his junk at eye level, so he hurried and spread out the towel and turned to sit. As he lowered into his seat, he watched as Susie now stood with the hose, turning in a circle as kids ran around her to avoid the spray, giving him a three-hundred-sixty degree view of her as he had never seen her, and the sun was radiating off her skin and warming Dave's shoulders, and all the sounds of the park entered his awareness at once: the kids screaming, music from a radio somewhere, a dog barking, and birds chirping above him, and he felt like he belonged.

"Want a beer?"

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the old man.

"Well hell, sure." A beer would be really good right about now, he thought. The old man leaned over again and brought out a sweating can of Bud Light, which he cracked open for him. Dave took it and they tapped their cans together.

"Cheers," the old man said.

"Same." Dave tipped the can back and there was something instantly refreshing about not just the drink but the drink in tandem with the wonderful setting and the absence of clothes. He truly did feel relaxed.

"So this is all new to you, huh?"

He turned back to the old man.

"Yeah, well... this isn't something I ever would have considered doing," he admitted. "No offense, but I always assumed nudists were kinda perverted."

The old man waved a hand again.

"It's a common misconception. Textiles think it's about exhibitionism. It isn't. It doesn't help that there are adults-only resorts that are exactly that."

"Textiles?"

The old man chuckled.

"It's what we sometimes call non-nudists."

"I see..."

"But yeah, there's nothing dirty about it, as you can see."

Dave looked back out at his kids playing with the others. The hose had been abandoned and they were now chasing a frisbee. The attractive young woman had slipped away. Dave took another gulp of his beer.

"It's still weird to me," he said. "Particularly having kids at these things. I was just looking out there at my son spraying down that woman. It just strikes me as inappropriate. I don't think kids should be seeing naked adults like that."

"The body's the body," the man said. "We all have the same parts. I'm not one to tell someone how to raise their kids, but I see no harm in it. Kids have been growing up in nudist families for a hundred years, and we're still here."

"Yeah, I guess..."

He took a meditative sip of his beer.

"It's kind of distracting, too," he then said as he lowered his can.

"What's that?"

"When a—forgive me for saying—when a hot young woman like I mentioned struts around."

The old man, surprisingly, laughed once again, and his wife again chuckled.

"Yeah, well, that's the thing about the world: some people are average-lookin' and some people are good lookin'. But if it helps, look at it this way..."

The old man leaned forward in his chair and Dave found himself leaning closer, anticipating some big secret.

"When you don't bat an eye at nudity, an attractive body is no different than an attractive face," he said, and then sat back. Dave blinked. That was it? But it made sense.

Just then, a pretty face (and body) appeared to his left.

"So you decided to stay, huh?" the young woman from before said, beaming down at him and holding a beer of her own. His face was right there, his chin pointing at her intimately-close pubic hair, of which every fine fiber could be discerned before he looked up, past her chest, at her smiling face.

"Y-yeah, well, the kids were adamant..." He looked away from her for a second, down at his beer, and then to his right, where the old man was smiling knowingly. Then he looked back up at the girl.

"They're great," she said. "They're having a blast."

He looked out at the grass again, realizing he had put them out of his sights. "Where..." but then he saw them, throwing the frisbee back and forth with about four other kids.

"Yeah," Dave said. "I guess it ended up being a good idea."

She laughed good-naturedly, but Dave was not put at ease. She just stood there, looming over him, putting herself in the perfect position to be stared at. He wished she would have asked to sit down, to create the sense of normalcy that he had felt once he had taken his seat, but she didn't, and with every new second of her body up close to his eyes, he felt the threat of arousal tense up in his lap. Oh crap, he thought, the dreaded thing that men supposedly feared in clothing-optional settings: the infamous erection. It ought not to be noticeable, he thought, but the more he thought, the more filled out he felt, and he tried to hide it by propping his beer can on his thigh and resting his other arm alongside it. He looked forward again and tried to find where Timmy and Susie had run off to, and in the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the old man's chest shake with a chuckle.

Then they were upon him. They snuck in from the side, weaving past the old man and his wife.

"Hey Dad!" Timmy said with the same energy that he usually had when going to Six Flags and other vacations that he and Vicky had obligated themselves to go on. Susie trailed behind, smiling at the old couple as she passed, looking nervous to be naked so near to them when she had just been playing in the grass with abandon.

"Hey kids, have fun?"

"Yeah! We're having lots of fun, Ben and Daniel from school were even here!"

"Oh?"

Crap. Those kids they were playing with were their classmates? This was sure to get back to Vicky now. Somehow. Not that he needed to be secretive about it, based on the outline of the nudist way of life he had been given, but he doubted his wife would understand. Boy, was he going to get it.

The kids moved from him to stand before the young woman, who beamed down at them.

"So you guys have fun?" she asked, and they cheered in affirmation. Dave's thoughts were swimming, his attention drifting from the woman to his kids to the old couple at his right, then to his lap, which was in a battle between decency and indecency. He wished he knew what time it was, but his phone was back with his clothes. And he wanted to stand, but he wasn't quite sure he was ready to yet. He kicked back the rest of his beer.

"Well," he announced. "We should probably get back. I think we've been gone long enough."

A predictable "awwww" came from the kids. The old man smiled over at him.

"Well I hope you come back. If they do this again next year."

"Oh, I hope they do," the young woman said on his other side. "I was one of the ones who lobbied for this."

"And we thank you for that, ma'am," the old man said, and raised his beer. Dave sighed and braved to stand, but he could tell as he did that he was not fully flaccid yet. He tried to keep his hands casually passing in front of him as he turned to the man and quickly handed him the empty can.

"Thanks for the beer," he said. "And the talk."

"Anytime," the old man said.

Dave turned to his kids, and to the young woman, but he felt on an inferior level compared to them. Here all three of them were, perfectly comfortable in their skin, but Dave felt like he was crawling in it.

"Do we gotta go?" Susie asked, surprising him. She was usually the one who didn't like staying in one place.

"'Fraid so, we're running over on time."

"I wanted to get a hot dog!" Timmy cried. "I saw they had some."

"Hey, you guys already had McDonald's."

"Awwww."

The young woman laughed, and she and Dave locked eyes.

"They're precious," she said, and then she finished her beer and crinkled the can. "I'll walk out with you if you want, I'm heading up that way, anyway."

Dave's chest tightened. He had come in here with the idea of hooking up with a young girl, but now he wanted her to be far away. It was funny how that worked out. He had no course of action except to be polite. She seemed to get along well with the kids, anyway. They would be more apt to follow him out with her alongside.

"S-sure. You ready kids?"

"I guess..."

And so, in the most surreal-feeling moment he had ever experienced, he walked along naked with his kids on one side, a beautiful woman on his other side, and his confused and conflicted lesser self in front of him, which he now had to march with on display, hoping that it would stay down, hoping he wasn't about to be arrested, but in the few steps it took to get near the tables at the front of the park, he experienced again a strange sense of normalcy.

*****

Tanya wasn't sure why she was tagging along with the man and his kids. She was actually on her way to the front of the park because she was hungry and a little woozy from the one beer and wanted to get some food. Maybe the beer was to blame, too, for she found the man rather dashing and handsome, well-taken care of, pleasing to look at, and she had to admit, handsome downstairs, where she amusingly observed him trying to hide what was obviously his arousal towards her taking shape. She had tried to bite back a laugh.

And, his kids were precious. The boy had been so transfixed by her to the point that it had made her feel guilty, but quickly he accepted her for what she was and he and his sister threw themselves into their fun and games, perhaps even more liberated by their lack of clothes. And they seemed to like her because she was just not grown-up enough to not delight in playing along with them. And she could tell that they were somewhat attached to her, and she could tell that the father was wanting to leave, so her tagging along would help wrangle the kids. At least that's what she told herself. It's not like she wanted to be their mother. She was sure they had one at home, though the father had not mentioned one. Hooking up with somebody at a family event, and a nudist event at that, wasn't really a  good look. But she liked being around him regardless, as he was nice to look at, and what was the harm in that?

They made their way to the front, and the man stopped at one of the tables and talked to the lady there. He soon was accepting a pile of clothes, which he brought into himself and held them to cover his crotch, which was charming to Tanya, like he was a scared schoolboy. He quickly thrust his kid's clothes into their arms and urged them to get dressed, then looked at Tanya.

"Thanks for entertaining the kids. I should be paying you a babysitter's fee."

"Oh, don't worry. It's pro bono!"

The normalcy and bravery with which he made the joke dissipated as she smiled at him in her reply, and the man nodded and began to turn. There was no pause, no opportunity to ask for his name, or maybe even his number, and soon he was walking towards the parking lot, his square, admirably masculine butt looking back at her, and his kids' tiny ones, a naked family walking side-by-side-by-side, a beautiful thing to see. Tanya sighed and was about to turn away when something caught her eye: a brown square nestled in the grass. A wallet. She bent down to pick it up and opened it and saw the man's driver's license picture looking back at her. Oh no, she thought. It must have fallen out of his pocket.

She looked up; the man and his family were not in sight. She looked to the table instinctively to ask for help, then back out at the parking lot again. She looked at the driver’s license to make sure. It was definitely him. So, his name’s David.

Realizing she was his only hope, she rushed ahead, but when she reached the edge of the parking lot, she saw a red pickup backing out, and as it pulled forward, she could see the kids in the backseat, still bare-shouldered and bare-chested, looking her way. She waved her hands to try and flag them down, but the truck sped on towards the stop sign out at the street.

Crap, she thought, and she turned back to rush to where she had left her things.

*****

Dave had unlocked the truck and tossed his shirt on the passenger's seat so he could stand beside his vehicle and put on his shorts and shoes, while Timmy and Susie just piled in without putting their clothes on.

"Come on, guys, get dressed," he said, but they had already shut their doors. Dave got his shorts shimmied up and just tossed his shoes in. He would put them on when he got home. He draped his shirt over his shoulders but did not button it up, and he hopped behind the wheel.

Timmy and Susie sat happily naked in the back.

"Really guys, I can't drive around with you like that."

"We'll get dressed when we get home," Timmy said. "I don't wanna have to put them back on."

Susie was silent, but looked out the window with a pleasant smile, the sun coming in gleaming off her bare shoulders. They seemed to like the way they now felt. Dave just shrugged and started the truck. As he backed out, his kids peered out the window at the park they were leaving.

"Hey, I think that lady is trying to get your attention," Timmy said. Dave ignored him and drove on. She was probably coming to ask for his number. He decided that probably wasn't the best idea. Maybe his cheating days were over; it was catching up to him all too easily. He sped for the stop sign and felt vulnerable sitting there with the friendly man still stationed and waving at them. He hoped the man didn't notice that he was driving out of there with his kids naked. There was nothing coming, and he hit the gas.

"Maybe try to wriggle into your clothes back there now," Dave offered, fearing the next stop light. "It's not like you can get out in the middle of our neighborhood."

"Why not?" Timmy asked.

"Because people would see."

"So it's okay back there, but not at home?"

"Yes, precisely."

"That's stupid."

And so they stayed stubbornly naked. "Don't get too close to the windows," Dave said. "I don't want people noticing you."

"What's the big deal, anyway?" Timmy asked. Susie, was, again, frustratingly silent. Dave did not answer his son's question. He just thought about the weird turn of events and the odd ambiance of so casually hanging out naked, and the uncomfortable presence of such a shamelessly erotic young woman. He almost regretted going now, even though the time spent there had been pleasant. It would come back to bite him, he knew. As he drove on, though, he noticed how uncomfortable his clothes felt on his body, the crotch of his shorts pinching him, his skin already working up a sweat despite the blasting AC. Maybe that's why the kids refused to put on their clothes.

They drove on, past the business district and towards the residential areas. Soon they were turning into their neighborhood.

"Okay, time to get dressed, kiddos," he said as he uncomfortably adjusted himself in his seat. Something just didn't feel right. The fabric of his shorts slid against the fabric of his boxers, which slid against his skin, and it felt stifling, but still something was odd. He didn't realize what it was until he was pulling into his driveway, and then he understood that the strange sensation of the double-layer of fabric on his butt was so new because there wasn't the familiar lump of something in his back pocket.

Oh shit, he thought as he pulled into the driveway. My wallet. Those sunsofbitches stole it. He knew he couldn't trust people, even nudists.

And then three things happened, in rapid succession. As he felt around in his pockets to make sure he wasn't imagining things, Timmy and Susie opened their doors and burst out onto the driveway. At the same time, the front door opened and Vicky stepped out and froze at the sight of her naked children. Dave looked at her through the windshield with the certain doom that one probably experiences seeing their executioner. As he opened his door to corral the kids, who were already rushing to their mother, the third thing happened: a gray sedan pulled into the driveway and stopped. Dave was already out of his truck and looking back and forth between his wife and the visitor when the car door opened and out stepped the young woman from the park, exactly as he had seen her before. That was: nude. Out in the middle of his neighborhood, with his kids shamelessly pattering on the hot driveway, the woman walked up to his truck in full view of the neighbors across the street, the open sunlight with no shade even harsher on her bare, hypnotizing skin than it had been at the park, as she held out the item he was looking for.

"You dropped it," she said, and her breath was ragged, as if she'd been running a marathon. Dave just stared at her in awe.

The fourth thing that happened was that Dave had a long talk with his wife.

The Naked Lounge 2

It had been a while since Nick had flown. Long since before COVID, at least. In a way, he missed it. At least that's how he felt as he got through security and had the entirety of the large airport to hang out at before his flight boarded. He had always enjoyed getting to the airport a little early (like three hours early) and just chilling at a bar. And, of course, sneaking some smokes at the interspersed smoking lounges, which were little depressing and featureless rooms filled with that blue-gray nicotine haze. But they got the job done. Unfortunately, during the time that Nick had not flown, they had shut the smoking lounges down. Stupid new state laws. Being one of the biggest airports around, it was not feasible to go back out through security to get his fix. He would have to make do. So he hoisted his backpack (his only luggage) on his shoulder and headed towards the burger pub that was near his gate. He wouldn't have to move for hours, and with a beer and his Kindle in front of him, he would hopefully forget that he liked to smoke after eating.

On his way past the scramble of people, feeling a little agitated to be in such a hotbed of humanity so soon after the pandemic had started to level off, Nick happened to pass one of his cherished smoking lounges. The full-height sliding glass doors were now tinted black, symbolic of the lounge's bleak retirement. He sighed and wished he was breathing in smoke as he passed.

Then, to his surprise, the door slid open as someone stepped up to it, and in the briefest flash before it slid closed again, he saw something he couldn't quite believe.

There was no haze and familiar scent of tobacco escaping (something people always complained about), but instead, there was the alarming sight of several people highlighted by their pale or pink skin. A chubby man was sitting down something at a bench and his Hank Hill ass looked back at Nick, along with a low-hanging scrotum. And a fifty-something older woman with leather skin and very pendulous breasts sat with her legs crossed and held a paperback in her hand. Then the doors closed. Nick was frozen in place, and people began flowing around him.

Did I just see what I thought I saw? he asked himself. It was like he had just accidentally glimpsed into a YMCA locker room. He hazarded a step towards the opaque doors, then stopped. He probably wasn't supposed to go in there. And he really wanted a beer. But his curiosity was nagging him. Someone scowled at him as they tried to maneuver around him, and he found himself retreating to the sidelines, standing right before the doors. And they slid open.

There was the sight again: at least six people sitting on the benches that had formerly hosted smokers, now hosting people in apparent need of a change of clothes. Books and cell phones were still present, as always, but the familiar smell of the smoke was gone. The light was different too. It was more warm. UV light, Nick realized. At the end of the room was also what appeared to be a newly-installed open shower, and to its side was a rack of towels. The built-in ashtrays on the armrests were still there, but not in use. Instead, everybody just sat on white towels, not smoking, and not wearing anything. Finally, they looked up.

"Don't leave the door open," the portly man towards the back said. "They don't like it."

That was Nick's queue: step out. But instead, he stepped in, and the doors slid closed. In front of him was a mixed-gender assemblage of people: the portly man, who looked at his phone, the reading lady, a Southeast Asian couple in their thirties—the woman remarkable to Nick's passing eyes for her slender figure and flawlessly browned skin, which he had to look away from before he crossed over the threshold between curiosity and rudeness—and there was another older gentleman, quite refined-looking except the animal nature he reduced himself to, scrawny chest garnished with peppery gray hair, and then there was a younger man about Nick's age, lean, toned, and very intimidating-looking with how in perfect physical shape he was and with how little shame he carried himself, sitting open-legged and hunching forward to look at his phone, his rather long appendage dangling between his tanned thighs. He was closest, and he looked up at Nick, and Nick had no choice but to choose him to initiate his conversation.

"What is this?" Nick asked.

"Oh, this is nude lounge," the man said in a rather thick Eastern-European accent. "Surprising in America. I like it."

"Yes but... why?"

"Because I like to relax nude. Not many people do that in America."

"No, I mean, why did they put this here?"

The young man shrugged his bare and sunburnt shoulders. "I don't know. But I am glad for it."

"It was a petition," the portly man in back said. "They were looking for something to replace the smoking lounges."

Nick moved away from the European man and approached the old portly one, agitated at having to address everybody in their nudity, passing by the older woman reading her book and darting his eyes away the second he saw her stiff, bumpy areolas above the pages she was reading (her eyes glanced up right as he looked away), and then averting his eyes from the thimble penis sitting in the old man's lap as he looked up at Nick.

"How did this even get allowed?" Nick asked, looking around the changes in the room as he did, noting the shower, wondering how much work it had taken to hook up water to this room.

"Well, there are a lot of international travelers coming through, naturally," the old man said. "And in their countries, nudity isn't a big deal. So it was thought up as a sort of courtesy. I don't think the suggestion came from people outside the country, though. I think it was a nudist group. But somehow it passed. I think one of the owners of the airport is a nudist, so there may have been some favoritism."

"Yeah, but... why this? Is it really that important to be able to take off your clothes? In a little, cramped room?"

"Just as important as being able to come smoke in a little, cramped room," the old man said. Nick shrugged. He had him there.

"But what's the big deal? Why need this?"

"I take it you've never relaxed naked before."

"Well, no."

"You know, the airport is one of the nastiest places you can be. After walking around and sweating and being around so many people, it's great to be able to strip off and feel refreshed, especially with those showers there, and the UV lights especially. Sometimes I don't even want to put my clothes back on."

"So you're a nudist?"

"Yeah, obviously."

"Why, though?"

The old man lowered his phone and focused his attention solely on Nick. He didn't appear phased at all to be talking to him nude.

"Let me put it this way: if you ever take to just going about your day nude, only putting clothes on when it's necessary, you'll be surprised how clean you still feel. Your skin's not being suffocated. It can breathe. It can get sunlight. You feel different; alive. That's what nudism is all about."

"Yeah, but... in this cramped space, and because you gotta put your clothes back on to get to your plane... isn't that kind of a hassle?"

"A little," the man said. "It sure would be great to be able to go get something to eat without having to get dressed again. Maybe they should have a nude diner in here or something."

"I'm sure that would be open to a whole bunch of health code issues."

"Oh no, there are places like that. There's even a private chef who cooks and serves meals nude for parties, with the diners nude too, of course."

Nick shook his head. It was like there was a whole world operating under his nose that he had never been aware of.

"I kind of felt the same way about the smoking lounges," he said. "There was one restaurant here that had a smoking room."

He remembered his discovery of it clearly; he had stopped by a swank bar with a nice view of the tarmac to have a beer and a chicken sandwich, and was looking forward to smoking, when he ruminated that he wished he could smoke there, and the bartender told him there was a place at the very last concourse that allowed smoking. He rushed over there as soon as he was done and had another beer, paired with a  cigarette. Vices in hand, reading to pass the time, it was strangely the highlight of that trip for him. He could commiserate with this naked man. At least halfway. He still wasn't convinced about being naked in the middle of the airport, with other people. "But I don't know man, I will say, this is weird."

"A lot of people think it's weird. But a lot of other people don't. Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Nick leveled his gaze at the man. Was that a challenge? the man chuckled.

"Well, I was looking forward to getting a bite to eat," Nick admitted. "I'm pretty hungry. But maybe I'll come by when I'm done, in lieu of smoking."

"That's the spirit," the old man said. "Happy travels."

Nick nodded to the man and backed away, wondering if he'd have an appetite while still remembering all the bared flesh and dangly bits all around him. Then, as he turned away, the doors slid open again. In entered a remarkably pretty young woman, black hair down to her shoulders, dressed in a frilly blouse and a thin pair of capri pants. She looked up at Nick and smiled and nodded and walked past him, trailing her wheeled luggage behind her, and she went over to the far wall with the showers. Nick turned in place and watched as she propped up her luggage and then unceremoniously—as if she were getting changed at home—pulled off her blouse. A bare, tawny back was all he saw, no bra strap in sight, and in another second, she was leaning forward and slipping down her pants, revealing an ivory fanny. He turned to the old man, who was watching Nick and chuckling.

"Okay, maybe I'll stay," he said in low enough a voice so as to not be announced to the whole room. The others there hardly looked up, even in the presence of captivating beauty that turned around and flashed a wink of dark pubic hair as she laid her clothes on top of her luggage and went to the showers. Nick stood there dumbly as she turned on the water and let it flow over her skin. He stared, admittedly, until she turned under the spray and faced him. Then he looked away. Okay, he thought. What to do? How did this usually go about in nudist situations? All he could think was to go to the nearest bench and drop his backpack there. Then, with the showering girl in his peripherals, he unbuttoned his shirt.

Was he really doing this? he thought to himself. As he bared his chest, he glanced over to the showers again to see the girl turning in place and rivers of water coursing down the domes of her butt. Then he returned his attention to himself, unbuckling his belt, wondering if he could contain his arousal in the presence of this sight. How did guys in normal nudist resorts do this? he wondered. Without thinking, trying not to think, he pulled off his shoes and then pulled his pants down. It was an awkward exercise wrestling out of them, but he succeeded, standing there in a surreal daze. I'm naked, here in front of a bunch of people, he thought, but nobody seemed to care, not even the showering girl. His clothes collected on the bench, he did what he was expected to do, but was all too terrified to do, and he walked over to the showers.

There was no way to avoid looking at and acknowledging the girl, and he nodded and smiled as she had when she had entered the lounge, and as she turned in place, her face passing over his, and she smiled back and then averted her eyes, and Nick turned on the shower and let the first cold, then warm water drench over him.

He had not been in a  communal shower since high school. It was such a weird, strangely nostalgic feeling. But in high school, he didn't have to shower in the company of a naked girl. This was all strange to him. As he turned and allowed himself to get wet and noticed the wall-mounted body wash dispenser there, he lathered up his hands and became self-aware of... well, himself, down below, aroused in the presence of this woman, and naked in the presence of this woman. Oh, great, he thought. I'm going to be kicked out of this place. He had a hard time imagining that he really was in the middle of an airport.

The girl finished her shower before Nick did and made her way to the stack of towels to take one. He continued lathering himself up and glancing as she dried her hair, the rest of her body bare, working her way down. It did not help the state of things down below, so he turned and tried to retreat inwards. He took in the feeling of the soapy water sluicing off his body, of the fresh and chill feeling of all his skin exposed to the air, and when he was done and went to grab a towel, he was left with the feeling that now was the time to put on clothes, but in this setting, he did not have to, and he returned to the bench with the remaining moisture evaporating off of his skin. It was a strange feeling, especially in the presence of others.

The girl had taken her towel and spread it out on a bench underneath the UV lights, and there she splayed out her body, propped up a leg, and put her hands behind her head. Nick passed her and passed his eyes over her body, and then returned to his luggage. Maybe it's time to continue my book, he thought, rooting in his bag for his Kindle, but his stomach growled. He really was hungry. Like the old man, he now wished he could go out and get something to eat, and he didn't want to put on his clothes yet, for he had to admit, he was comfortable. Mimicking the others, he laid out his towel on the bench, turned around, and sat, taking up his Kindle and planning on reading just a bit. He'd let himself fully feel dry and then put his clothes back on and go eat. At least the shower was refreshing. Maybe the old man had the right idea.

Someone passed him. Clothed. It was the older, thinner gentleman with the gray chest hair, now hidden behind his shirt. Fully clothed, he exited the lounge, and the doors slid open and there was a row of people walking by, glancing over and seeing him. An old man frowned at him. A little girl widened her eyes and pointed. A woman coming up behind her looked and smirked. Then the door slid shut.

Yeah, this ain't gonna cut it, he said to himself, and he slapped his Kindle shut and stood again, feeling exposed all over once more, his lesser self jostling as he walked past the reclining girl and he tried not to look. By the towel rack, he searched for a place to discard his towel, then saw a hamper there, so he tossed it in. When he went back to his clothes, he saw the portly old man chuckling. Nick quickly put his clothes on, feeling even stranger to be getting dressed. As he walked out without looking back, he was hyper-aware of his body moving underneath his clothes, and when he was out walking the concourse with normal people again, he still felt naked...

The burger joint was nearby and Nick settled down with his back to the foot traffic and the mahogany bar in front of him, and soon a heaping stacked burger and an amber beer. He talked plenty about the nude lounge with his server.

"Oh yeah," the server said. "That's been there a while now. Sure is crazy. I can see the doors open up from here, and I catch myself a few lookers every now and then."

Nick just shook his head.

"I still can't believe they got away with something like that. Especially since the doors open up and you can look right in. A little girl saw me. It was really awkward."

The server laughed. "Hey, it's the same situation as when it was a smoking lounge. When the doors open up, all the smoke comes out. How did they get away with that?"

"Well, that's different."

"Only a little."

"I just figure, it's an adults-oriented thing... it feels weird to have it out in the open."

"Nah, man, those nudists are all about being family-friendly and stuff. To them it's no big deal."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Haven't you heard about them nudist resorts? People bring their whole family there, kids and grannies and all."

"I guess I never realized that was something that went on."

"Yeah, it's weird, but they mean no harm. I figure, 'do you,' right? Plus, I get to see an attractive lady every once in a while."

"I guess that's a perk," Nick said, thinking of the attractive girl that had entered the nude lounge when he was there. "That doesn't make it family-friendly in my eyes, I guess."

"Hey, a pretty face is a pretty face and a pretty body is just the same. Oh, hold on a minute. Yes? What can I get you to drink?"

Nick mused over the rest of his beer and thought about what a crazy memory this would be to add to his collection of memories of traveling. Maybe when he got back, he would try the nude lounge again, only staying longer this time, just as a quick experiment before going home. He had been too shaken up by being gawked at, but maybe if he embraced it, he would learn to love it as the old man told him he would. He finished his beer and then paid and soon it was time to get to his gate. He glanced one more time at the black windows of the naked lounge and was amazed that such a thing existed. He almost wanted to go back in and try it out again now that he had food and beer in his stomach and was in need of something to replace his post-meal cigarette, but he did not have enough time now, so he began to turn away. But right before he did, the doors slid open and out walked a sight that made him freeze in his tracks.

The girl from before was out, and she had not put on her clothes. They lay atop her wheeled luggage as she pulled it along, falling into step with the other people walking down the concourse, who slowed and gaped as her hips swayed her butt for them. Her flexing thighs made hypnotizing little gestures of her bush, and her smallish breasts jostled slightly with each step, and her face was neutral, but a small smile betrayed her. Nick stared as she made a beeline for the exact bar he had been to, and he saw the bartender there widen his eyes and step up as he wiped a glass and she approached. Nick wanted to go back. Why couldn't she have come out while he was there? He could go for another beer. But he heard the loudspeaker announce "now boarding zones one and two," and he took a step away, walked backwards for a bit, and then turned from the amazing sight, looking once over his shoulder as the woman settled down on the stool (sans towel) and the other diners craned their necks. It was the most memorable sight of his trip.

*****

He told his friends he was visiting all about it when he landed.

"No way," one of them said.

"Way. it's almost like the airport is clothing-optional now."

"Well who's gonna stop a beautiful woman from walking naked?" his friend said, and his friend's wife cast him a glance.

Nick had a good time on his vacation, but it was mostly a social call. As was usual with those types of trips, he always held onto the memories of just enjoying himself at the airport, and his most recent memory was sure one for the books. He almost couldn't wait to get back.

When he did land, he was in for a shock.

It had only been a week. But that must have been enough for momentum to build after the pretty girl's daring outing to get a burger. It was enough time for the splash she had made to subside and to get people talking, and perhaps spur up discussion amongst others who figured "why be clothed?" and for the nudist owner to further push his agenda, for when Nick landed and exited the gate, his eyes were immediately drawn to sudden, naked flesh: a young woman, not too dissimilar from the one he had seen on his departure, but definitely a different person, strutted from her seat at the gate, carrying a bottle of water to go fill. As she filled it, she tipped a little of it over her head and turned— sparkling, fabulous—to walk back to her seat, leaving droplets falling off her and eyes following her. Then, crossing Nick's tracking of her, another person headed for the bathrooms, another portly old man (it seemed nudism attracted a lot of portly old men), and he disappeared (it was probably much easier to deal with all the necessities of the bathroom without the burden of clothes, Nick thought). And coming down the concourse, hand-in-hand, was a family: a mother, a father, and a son, all very tan except for the child, as they stopped by the burger joint where Nick had eaten only a week ago. Nick blinked. Though there were many more clothed people than unclothed, the unclothed walked about as if it didn't bother them, and as if they had full permission to do so, which they truly had, for it seemed that the airport had actually become clothing-optional. Nick had no need to stop by the naked lounge that day, and the airport became one of the most successful airports in the world.

Even more fantastical adventures await in these other P.A. Choi collections!

“Naked Surprises,” “Naked Fun for Everyone,” “Naked Trouble,” and “Naked Adventures”

About P.A. Choi

P.A. Choi has had a long, proud career of writing erotica for seven years, where he has mainly pursued his favorite themes of exhibitionism, public nudity, and the fine line between naturism and eroticism.

Press flesh with P.A. Choi at:

twitter.com/PAChoi4

instagram.com/pachoi4

goodreads.com/pachoierotica

Or shoot an e-mail at pachoierotica@gmail.com

[i]See Naked Storm Chasers