Casual Nudity


I was home alone when the doorbell rang. I was irritated. If I was going to answer it I’d have to get dressed and I didn’t want to. I was quite comfortable curled up on the couch the way I was, watching TV.

I suppose I should point out that it wasn’t a case of being under-dressed so much as a case of being nude, and people tend to get startled when someone answers the door in the nude. I don’t know why. We’ve all got similar bodies.

My parents have always been nudists. Not at home, as such, but we’d always spend our holidays at nudist camps and I was quite comfortable with casual nudity. I admit that over the last few years there’s been the occasional person who stared at me, but that’s just plain rude.

The reason I was nude today was quite simply it was a hot day and I couldn’t be bothered getting dressed. OK, if my parents had been here I’d have probably deferred to their preferences and gotten dressed, but they weren’t and so I didn’t.

I was quite surprised when the front door opened and someone came in. How rude. Then they called out and I recognised the voice. Uncle Mark. At least, I called him Uncle Mark, but it was more of a title of respect than an acknowledgement of a relationship. He was a good friend of my parents, even if somewhat younger. I’d put him at halfway between my eighteen and my mother’s thirty eight. (Don’t tell her I mentioned her age.)

Anyway, I didn’t have to worry about Uncle Mark. He’d seen me in the nude for yonks. I believe my parents initially met him at a camp.

“I’m in here, Mark,” I called. I’d been dropping the Uncle title for a while now, seeing we were nearly contemporaries.

He came strolling into the room and stopped, looking at me with an enigmatic expression on his face. I always get a slight surprise when I see Mark. He’s a very large man. I tend to expect men to be around my father’s size, and generally they are. Then I run into Mark and it’s driven home that some men are certainly larger than others.

“Hey, Nicki,” he said. “Your father not home?”

“Nope,” I said. “The parents are away for the weekend and I’m all on my own-some.”

Sometimes when my father is arguing with my mother or me and he seems totally unable to understand the concept of what we’re saying he’ll look up at the sky with what I call a ‘give me strength’ look on his face. For some reason Mark did the same thing right then.

“I see. Ah, I expect that explains why you didn’t bother to get dressed.”

I grinned and nodded and then stretched.

“Right on,” I said happily. “I feel so much more free like this.”

“Free, is right,” he said. “Ah, if I remember correctly you’re eighteen now, aren’t you?”

“You should remember,” I said, touching my ears. “You bought me these.”

I was wearing a very nice set of diamond stud earrings. OK, considering the size of the diamonds I’ll have to admit to cubic zirconia, but they were good ones. No cheap rubbish for Mark.

“Hmm. Eighteen and never had a serious boyfriend,” he said.

“What?” I sat up indignantly. He blinked and his eyes seemed to drop for a moment. I glanced down and couldn’t see anything. I shrugged. Funnily enough I thought he said something rude under his breath when I shrugged. What was wrong with him? What were we discussing? Oh, yes. Boyfriend.

“I have had boyfriends,” I stated firmly. “Lots of them,” I said, waving my hand to indicate heaps of boyfriends.

“I said a serious boyfriend,” he said with a smirk. “It’s easy to tell.”

“And just what do you mean by that?” I demanded, folding my arms in front of me. You know, boys have an advantage there. They just fold their arms. Women have to work out if they’re going to fold their arms over, under, or across their breasts. Those things do get in the way at times. I chose under.

For some reason Mark seemed to be appealing for help once again. How weird was that.

“What do I mean?” He smiled and for some reason I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

He strolled over to me and reached down to the couch next to where I was all curled up. Then his had turned sidewards and he poked me.

My mouth and eyes both popped open. I couldn’t believe he’d poked me there of all places.

“Currently closed as tight as a clam afraid of an octopus. If you’d ever had a serious boyfriend then the way you’re dressed, with a man in the room, it would be relaxed and flowering, hoping to be touched.”

I gave a squeal and I would have curled up in a ball if I wasn’t already curled up. Oh my god, he was rubbing me there.

“What are you doing?” I managed to squeak. “Stop that.”

He laughed and straightened up, but I was prepared to swear that I could still feel him touching me there.

“Yes,” he said with some satisfaction. “It would look more like that.”

I hastily reached down and covered myself with my hand. Oh god, he was right. It felt different right now.

“Also,” he said with another laugh, “these would have been pointing at me without me touching Etiler escort you first.”

He reached down and pressed my nipples, one after the other. I looked down at them and hastily covered my breasts with my other arm. My nipples seemed to have doubled in size and I really felt those touches.

Mark grabbed hold of my wrists and hauled me to my feet. I still wanted to crawl into a ball but it’s pretty hard to do while you’re standing up.

He was looking me up and down and I wasn’t feeling nude; I was feeling very, very, naked.

“I’ll leave you now,” he said. “I’ll be back this evening to take you out to dinner. I suggest that you be dressed when I arrive.”

“I’m not going out with you,” I said quickly.

“Your choice,” he said, blatantly looking at me again. “I’ll be just as happy to stay in.” He looked at me again and winked. “Happier even. I’ll be back at eight.”

With that the rotten man had the nerve to kiss me and then he left, whistling. I bolted to my room to get dressed. I looked at myself in the mirror and was shocked all over again. I was prepared to swear my breasts were a size larger and, oh lord, I could see my lips seemed to be protruding slightly. I dressed with speed, and then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to decide what to wear going out to dinner.

That evening I had a shower before getting dressed. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering just what Mark really saw when he looked at me. Why had he touched me? Even the thought of that seemed to be enough to make my nipples react and for heat to pool low under my tummy.

I shook my head in irritation. What you saw was what you got. No, not what you got. Definitely not getting. I looked down at myself in irritation. I’d never really thought of it before but that tuft of pubic hair was just, well, unsightly. My mother trimmed hers, I knew. I’d just borrow her Ladyshave and trim it a bit.

I’d never thought it would be so hard to just give yourself a little trim. First one side was crooked and then the other. It was with some irritation I finished shaving the silly fur completely off. There was some oil or something that my mother also used so I rubbed that in after I’d finished shaving. After I finished screaming and dancing about I took an oath that I was never shaving again. Why didn’t anyone ever warn me that aftershave stings. And my father slaps it on his face every day. Obviously a masochist and I’d never suspected.

I wore this very nice dress with spaghetti straps. It left my shoulders completely bare, but I had a very nice matching jacket that complemented the dress and I thought I looked good. I was also ready on time. I didn’t dare be late. If I was he might want to come in and I wasn’t having that.

We went to dinner and I enjoyed it. He had an interesting point of view on some points and didn’t seem to mind when I pointed out that he was being a complete idiot. Of course, that made it hard for me to be offended when he told me I was an idiot on some subjects.

After dinner we went to a nightclub for a while for a couple of drinks and some dancing. For an older man his dancing wasn’t bad. Did I say a couple of drinks? I’d better clarify. He had a couple of drinks. Me, I had one and then had to drink tonic water. I objected but he said that at my age one was all I needed.

“Learn to take it slowly,” he advised. “This way you can keep your senses about you.”

I grumped but went along with what he wanted. After all, my parents would be furious if he got me drunk and I wouldn’t be too pleased, either.

I was feeling quite happy when he took me home and then I was a little worried when he pulled into my drive. What would he do now? What he did was suggest I invite him in for a goodnight cup of coffee. I dithered, not knowing how to say no and not sure if I should say yes.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re over-thinking it. When I said coffee I meant coffee. I’ll swear to be on my second-best behaviour.”

I relaxed a little, knowing that I’d have to ask him in and then I caught on to what he said.

“Second-best?” I asked.

I could see the gleam of his smiling teeth in the dark as he replied.

“It means I’m reserving the right to kiss you for a while. It also means that I won’t take off your clothes and drag you into bed.”

“At least, I won’t tonight,” he tacked on, which was something I could have done without.

I went inside with him following along. It was a bit hot and stuffy inside so I just automatically slipped my jacket off and put it on the hook next to the door. It didn’t matter as I was still fully dressed.

“Worry about the coffee later,” he said, his arm going around my waist.

He pulled me up against me and kissed me and I have to admit I kissed him back. It was fun and didn’t commit me to anything. Somehow or other we finished up sitting in one of the big easy-chairs, me on his lap. Far better than being on the couch in my opinion. The couch suddenly looked too Beşiktaş escort much like a bed.

He kissed me some more and I kissed him and enjoyed it. When his mouth went wandering I let it go, just enjoying the feel of his lips touching me. My first surprise came when I felt his lips kissing my cleavage.

Why would this be a surprise, you ask? How about because my dress had a straight neckline and no cleavage?

Looking down I was able to see that his wandering mouth had brushed those spaghetti straps off my shoulders and they’d dropped down my arms. Entirely accidentally, I’m sure, but without that support the front of my dress had sagged and hey presto, instant cleavage. Instant kissable cleavage it seemed.

I was still covered, though so I didn’t worry about it too much. Who am I kidding? It felt good and I didn’t worry about it at all.

It eventually dawned on me that he shouldn’t be able to suck on my nipples but somehow he was doing that. It seemed the catch on my bra (A strapless one, of course, in that dress.) had come undone and my breasts were on display, not that you could see them with Mark’s face on them.

“Ma-ark,” I complained in protest and he shut me up by kissing me again. This didn’t mean he was no longer at my breasts. It just meant his hand was stroking them.

I didn’t really worry about his hand stroking my leg. Maybe I should have because it turned out that he didn’t need me naked to touch certain parts of my body. He was rubbing me in a rather intimate fashion through my panties and I finally managed to protest.

“Your hand,” I gasped, “off my panties.”

He deliberately misunderstood that and we both knew it. I meant he should move his hand off my panties. Not use his hand to take off my panties. Now he was quite happily touching me there again. Not only that but he’d discovered I’d shaved and he was rubbing my mons as well.

It was starting to register with me that he was going to drag me off to bed and that I wouldn’t have much say in the matter. Did I want any say in the matter, I wondered? I didn’t know.

I was twisting about under his touch, his mouth and hands doing terrible things to me. Much more of this and I’d be totally helpless while he totally stripped me and I’d be naked in front of him. Ah, he’s seen you naked before, I reminded myself. Lots of times. Not like this he damned well hasn’t I told myself.

His hands suddenly brushed up my arms and the straps of my dress were back on my shoulders, my breasts covered again. By my dress, anyway. I think my bra was down around my waist. I could see my nipples poking against the dress, making their presence obvious to the most casual glance.

“Delightful though this is,” said Mark as he urged me onto my feet, “I did promise to behave to a given value of behave. Any more and I’ll be breaking my promise.”

“Wh-what?” I mumbled, not quite getting with the program.

He gave me this most wicked smile and took my hand. Just like that he slipped it into his open fly and I found myself holding him in a very personal way.

“Mark!” I said, scandalised.

“Just giving you fair warning as to why I have to leave now. OK?”

I nodded, and he gave me that same wicked smile.

“Then you’d better let me go,” he suggested, and I gave a squeak of horror as I jerked my hand free from his trousers. I was honestly shocked to find I’d still been holding him.

He strolled to the front door while I tagged along, confused.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” he said. “I’ll take you to lunch up in the hills.”

With that he gave me a hard kiss and closed the door behind himself.

Dare I admit that I had a rather restless night? I certainly hoped Mark did, too. I did finally get to sleep and woke at a reasonable hour.

I was going to laze around in nothing but then I remembered Mark and I showed that idea the way out in a great hurry. No way was he catching me naked again.

Seeing it was a nice day and Mark was taking me to lunch I only needed to wear casual clothes. I thought shorts and a nice top would suffice, carrying a jacket in case it cooled down. I had a quick shower and then I ran into a little problem. I could see just the faintest touch of darkness on my mons and when I ran my hand over it I could just feel the prickles of regrowth. I chewed on my lip while I thought it over and then sighed. I was going to do it so I might as well just get it done. I ran the razor over my mons, making it nice and smooth. This time I rubbed some oil of aloe over it. That felt much better than that stupid aftershave.

I kept one eye out for Mark and when he pulled into the driveway I was walking out to meet him before he even got out of the car. I wasn’t giving him a chance to come into the house, especially as he probably wouldn’t be offering to be on his second-best behaviour. Safer to keep him outside.

“So where are we going for lunch?” I asked.

“I thought we’d have a picnic in the hills,” he said. Taksim escort “I know a spot where we can relax with a very nice view out over the lake.”

“A picnic? You should have told me. I could have prepared a nice hamper.”

“Hey, I can prepare a nice picnic,” Mark protested. “I might be a man but that doesn’t mean I can’t prepare food.”

I probably had a dubious look on my face. I was remembering the time my mother had been persuaded by my father to let him prepare the picnic hamper. We finished up eating McDonalds. I didn’t mind but my mother sure did.

“If it makes you feel better,” said Mark, with a put upon sigh, “I might have dropped past ‘Picnics to go’ on my way to your place to pick up the one I ordered.”

“It looks like being a fine day, doesn’t it?” I observed.

He laughed. It was a nice day. We weren’t in a tearing hurry and Mark’s driving reflected that. If someone wanted to pass he was quite content to let them. I always find it funny when someone goes hurling past me only for me to find I catch up with them at the next set of traffic lights.

Soon we were in the mountains, climbing steadily higher. Mark eventually pulled off the road into a small car park. I looked around, a little surprised. Mark winked at me.

“See that notch in the hills over there,” he said, pointing to it. “There’s a trail just over there that leads you to it. “There’s a nice little picnic ground there, although it’s not used much just yet. A tree flattened the old sign telling people about it and the Park Service hasn’t gotten around to putting up a new one. It’s about a ten or fifteen minute walk.”

Since I was capable of trotting around the mall for an hour or so in high heels a stroll through the woods wasn’t going to worry me. Mark had mentioned we’d be going into the hills and I’d chosen my shoes accordingly.

We strolled along the path. It was easy going and we didn’t need to go single file, even though Mark was carrying the hamper. Closer to fifteen minutes than ten, but we eventually came out from between the trees to find an area that had been set up for picnics. It bordered quite a steep drop and there was a fence running along the edge of the drop. Park Services hates people getting killed in the park. All that paper-work.

I scooted over to the fence and looked out. You could see for miles. Right down below there was the lake, and there were canoes and other small craft scooting around on the water. Mark came up next to me and flicked a blanket open onto the ground so we could sit right next to the view. To be honest I hadn’t even noticed that Mark had the blanket. I’d assumed that we’d have to sit at one of the tables, but the blanket is more fun.

Mark opened the hamper and spread out the goodies. It wasn’t anything elaborate but it was certainly to my taste. Crusty rolls, butter, chunky sliced ham, and cheese, for the main course. To go with that was a punnet of strawberries and a nice piece of cheesecake. Low-sugar soft drinks, which were probably better than alcohol, seeing Mark was driving.

We talked and ate, letting the meal stretch out. There was no need to rush it. After we’d eaten Mark pulled me back against him, just holding me lightly. Eventually I was lying down with my head on Mark’s lap while he teased me with the last strawberry.

The strawberry gone he shifted slightly and then leaned down and kissed me. That I could handle and I kissed him back. Even before his hand landed on my tummy I knew that he would push up my top and touch my breasts. I was even willing to bet that he would manage to undo my bra, but I found I didn’t care. He’d done all that and more the night before. I did have one advantage this time. He couldn’t pull my panties down. That’s partly the reason I was wearing shorts instead of a skirt.

Things went very much as I expected. There was a lot of kissing and quite a bit of touching. My breasts were open to the sky, my nipples pushing upwards. I was flushed and excited and thoroughly enjoying myself.

I will admit that the way he was stroking my legs and, um, that general area, was making me a little nervous, but I also have to admit that that was where most of the excitement was coming from.

My panties couldn’t come off because I was wearing shorts, right? Somehow or other it had turned out I was no longer wearing shorts. It didn’t take long before my panties were pushed down as well. Now my more private parts were also on display and Mark was touching me.

He would kiss me while his hand was between my legs, rubbing me. His mouth would be tasting my breasts, and his hand was between my legs, rubbing me all the harder. Was I trying to stop him? Not so you would notice.

At some stage he stopped touching me, but that was just so he could finish taking my clothes completely off. Now I was naked and Mark was not slow to take full advantage of it. It’s funny, but being naked didn’t seem to worry me at all. Possibly because I’d be doing it for years, even if not in circumstances like this. Even funnier, I suspect that I would be reluctant to go naked in public again. With Mark it was different.

I was twisting and turning, pushing myself against his hands, wanting a closer touch. I should have been shocked, but I was just going with the flow.

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