Thirteen

The day had burnt like a furnace that had scorched the earth. The midsummer sun had passed across the sky like a flame that burnt red in the western sky before setting in a calm sea washed of all colour. But the night that brought no relief from the stifling heat. Brian woke with a start in a bed soaked in sweat. He emerged trembling from a fitful dream, a nightmare where he had walked naked through his local supermarket to the astonishment and disgust of his friends and neighbours who pointed mockingly at his exposed genitals and jeered with cruel laughter at the size of his hairy behind. He did not need a Jung to analyse this dream, he knew its source well, his headstrong daughter Isla. Tomorrow she would begin her bare all campaign against air conditioning, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, no reasoning would sway her from the path she had held unswervingly for the past four months. His distress was instantly doubled when he turned to his wife looking for comfort, only to find Marion gone. With no thought to his own nudity he dashed down the stairs, his swaying genitals slapping gently against his bare legs.

All his fears were realised when, racing into the kitchen he found the door to the garden wide open. He tip toed to the threshold and peeped out. To his relief Marion was sitting in a chair on the sun terrace. She was completely naked of course, but at least she wasn’t off down the lane like a character from a warped nursery rhyme.

“What are you doing Marion?” he hissed, so as not to wake the neighbours.

“Trying to cool down” she replied quietly.

“What if somebody sees you?”

”Don’t be stupid Brian” responded Marion with some distain, “we ate supper out here starkers while it was still light, who’s going to see us now”

Brian had to admit she had a point. Isla had deliberately grown her bush since Christmas, and so had Marion, except her bush acted as a privacy screen to save her from the neighbours prying eyes. Or was it vice versa? Brian was never quite sure. Such had been the fierce heat of the day that Brian, who usually remained clothed at all times had joined his wife for a bare all session when he had come home sweating and irritable from a sweltering day at the office, which, to his daughter’s great satisfaction used a novel form of air conditioning called windows. For once Brian appreciated his wife’s lifestyle, marvelling in the refreshing feelings of a total lack of clothing.

Confident in the efficiency of his wife’s shrubbery screen Brian slipped on his sandals and joined her in the fragrant night air. Unseen, the door swung silently closed behind him and it wasn’t until it gave out a portentous click that Brain realised his error. To his horror he had locked them both out of the house. “Oh my God” he hissed in complete panic, “we’re locked out.” Marion, who had been on her way for a midnight stroll, was prepared for such an eventuality.

“Don’t panic, Brian” she told him holding up a key that he could just make out in the light from the Milky Way high above them. Assuaged her husband sat back in the garden chair and relaxed. Silence hung between them like a thread as they drunk in the starlit sky and the faint breeze that brought a heady scent from the end of the garden.

“Smell that” Marion asked.

“Mmm” he replied with contentment.

“I wonder what it is?” And with that she was gone.

“Marion, come back” pleaded Brain. He had to stop her, and so with great care he ventured out into the garden. There was nothing to fear for Marion’s careful gardening had ensured seclusion, and safe in the knowledge that nobody could catch a glimpse of his birthday suit Brian tripped along the garden path after the fading pale blob that was his wife’s bare behind. Like a moth to a night flower he homed onto her bottom that protruded upwards from a flowerbed.

“Beautiful” she said, meaning the flower

“Yes indeed” agreed Brian, meaning his wife’s buttocks.

“Why Brian” said Marion, turning to look at him, “I do believe there is something growing in your shrubbery.” He quickly turned sideways but this merely served to emphasise the object of his wife’s attention. She reached out and stroked him gently.

“Have you ever thought of making love in the wild” she whispered in his ear.

“No” he said abruptly, but his heart was beating strong and his mind was no longer in control as Marion continued to stroke his mutinous penis.

“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,” she whispered into his ear, her breath hot in that midsummer night, “Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”

“Are you talking about the wood?”

Brian had spent many hours in the nearby wood with is infant daughter. He could not think of anywhere that matched Shakespeare’s description of a fairy queen’s bed.

“Come on Brian” murmured his wife, “let’s live a little”

“This is madness, Marion” he protested, “what if someone sees us”

But all his protests were in vein as his erection grew in his wife’s hand. With a quick tug they were on their way out of the back gate and down the lane; hand in penis following their own Midsummer night’s dream.

A few score miles away, for exactly the same reasons as her father, Isla was also having trouble sleeping, and she decided on a similar remedy. She turned to Henri who lay flat on his back, fast asleep, but that was not an insurmountable problem and so, at exactly the same time as her mother reached out and grabbed her father’s penis, her daughter began to stroke life into Henri’s. Like her mother Isla was pleased with the success of her labours as Henri first stood to attention and then marched quickly out of the land of his midsummer night’s dreams. Fully aroused he rolled over right on top of Isla, fully prepared to thrust his swollen ardour into her, before a firm hand on the chest brought him up short.

“What” he exclaimed

“No you can’t” Isla told him firmly.

“Why not?”

“At ten o’clock tomorrow morning I am going to parade around the shopping mall stark naked”

They, well Susie, had decided on this time so the pictures would make the midday news bulletins.

“I know. Why is that a problem? They won’t be able to see you had sex the night before”

“They might”

“What”

“What goes up must come down” replied Isla in the manner of a school teacher talking to a backward child.

“Oh, I didn’t realise”

“No, you never end up with the sticky pants, do you?”

That wasn’t exactly true, but Henri knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“So why did you bother to wake me”

“I couldn’t sleep”

“Oh great” he replied in frustration.

Isla smiled seductively. “But……..Since you are awake you can make yourself useful”

“If you think I’m going to make a cup of tea!”

“That’s not what I had in mind at all” she replied pushing his head down under the thin sheet covering her body, “you don’t have to make a deposit to get my interest”

Henri sighed and bent his back as a slave to the night; for after all she might reciprocate later.

As Henri began to alternately kiss Isla’s small breasts, her equally naked mother was pulling her father down onto her in a shady hollow beneath a rustling oak that Marion had earmarked, more in hope than expectation, a few weeks ago. Brian was no longer hesitant and completely lost in the moment entered his wife without waiting for an invitation. Caught by surprise Marion gave out a startled gasp which her husband interpreted as an exclamation of ecstasy to which he responded with deep rhythmic thrusts.

In the privacy of her bedroom Isla was also in rapture as Henri’s experienced tongue explored her erogenous zones. She let a small moan of elation as he probed her engorged clitoris. Far to north Marion also let out a moan. This was not turning out as she had expected at all, the bracken beneath her irritated her skin and she was certain some blood sucking insect was crawling all over her back about to bite. And so, at exactly the same moment as her daughter arched her back in the pleasure of orgasm Marion arched hers in an attempt to dislodge the thrusting Brian. All this did was to trigger a massive orgasm in her husband who, when he had deposited every last drop of, what to Marion seemed, an enormous amount of semen, flopped forward and lay motionless on top of her, lost in his afterglow.

Henri was similarly disappointed, as, just like her father Isla had immediately fallen asleep post coitus. He lay there idly playing with himself and thinking about Susie’s ravishing naked body a mere nine inches away. Unfortunately that space was filled with a solid layer of breeze blocks, so Henri had to make do with the memory from the meeting and the anticipation of the day to come.

The wood which had seemed so quiet when they had entered it full of anticipation was now as noisy as a rush hour rail station. Marion was aware of every rustle of animals as they stole through the bushes, the hoot of the owl in the trees where the leaves rattled and wheezed in the breeze like an old man with a fever. Her back was itching worse than chickenpox and she was desperate to go home, but she was unable to move, pinned underneath the prone body of her husband. There was nothing for it, it had to be done. She leaned her head forward and whispered three little words that were guaranteed to get his attention.

“Darling, it’s getting light”

These cut through his post orgasmic slumber like a red hot poker through a snow bank; and without further ado, he was pulling Marion up to her feet and dragging her back towards the lane. She just managed to stop him before they reached the open ground that led to the style.

“Wait” she hissed, “we have to check no one is looking out” This stopped him soon enough. There were no lights to be seen at any of the windows, but the curtains and all the windows of the houses of Belvoir Avenue were wide open, desperately searching for a cooling breeze.

“We’ll just have to chance it” said Brian and without further ado he sprinted for the style, where he without warning he stopped dead causing Marion to career into the back of him, The slap of naked flesh on naked flesh resounded through the still night like a rifle shot. As soldiers caught in an ambush the bare couple threw themselves to the ground. Brian uttered a grunt as the solid earth forced the air from his lungs, Marion, however, landed in something rather more soft and squigy something that had an unpleasant and sadly familiar smell. “Ur” she exclaimed getting to her feet, not caring if anyone was there to see or not. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse” she muttered and grabbing two handfuls of grass she miserably wiped off the cow dung that clung to her breasts as best she could. “What’s that smell” said Brain at her side, “is that you?”

“Let’s just get home” Marion pleaded. Brian tip toed to the style and peeked over. The lane was bible black, nothing stirred in the blind shadows. “Let’s go” Brian hissed urgently and without waiting for his wife’s reply he hopped over the style, his low swinging testicles avoiding a painful brush with the crumbling wood by the width of a pubic hair. He didn’t need to turn to check Marion was following as he could plainly smell the remnants the manure covering her modesty.

Silently, they stole along the crow black lane towards the street with no name, where the light from Belvoir Avenue shone as bright for them as any midday sun. Here they stopped, ears pricked, as alert as a mouse in an open field. As she stood silently behind her husband Marion grimly became aware of a warm sticky stream dribbling down the inside of her bare thigh. This night was going from bad to worse she thought, as she wiped Brian’s semen from her leg. She sniffed it experimentally just to confirm her suspicions, but she knew exactly what it was, for as her daughter had told Henri less than an hour before, what goes up must come down. She wiped her hand on Brain’s bare back glowing pale orange in front of her.

“Ugh, what’s that?” he complained as he felt the slimy fluid.

“Yours” replied Marion, who was long past caring if anyone was in the road. Without so much as glance she strode brazenly across the road and into the lane that led to their garden gate. Brian scurried after her cursing silently to himself.

Safely inside the house Marion inspected the damage in the hall mirror. The whole of her front was streaked with cow dung, her hair looked like the bracken she had been lying on, and Brain’s semen had reached the knee of her left leg and the ankle of her right. All Brain could worry about was whether they had been seen.

“I don’t think so” she told him in a voice that clearly indicated that at that moment she wouldn’t have cared if the Mayor and the whole of the town council had been taking photographs. Muttering in disgust she headed straight to shower, leaving Brain to do as he willed.

Half an hour later Marion was much refreshed and headed off to find her husband who, she felt most definitely, owed her an orgasm. She tracked him to the bedroom where, like their daughter he lay fast asleep. With a sigh Marion went to the front window to check the street. It was as empty as the main square of a French town at lunchtime and all the windows of the houses were as blind as moles.

“Ah well,” she muttered to herself, “at least there was nobody else around”

But she was wrong; for many nights now a lonely figure had waited in the shadows that lay deep upon the street with no name, in the increasingly forlorn hope of catching sight of the naked angel. Perhaps there was no such thing, perhaps the story had been, after all the ramblings of a seriously ill man. And then suddenly when all hope was nearly lost there she was, strolling across road in all her naked glory. Desperate to remain unseen the watcher drew back into the coal black shadows hardly daring to breathe. The seconds ticked silently by; when enough time had lapsed for the stranger to be sure the angel would not return, the silent figure left the dark corner and crept to the entrance of the back lane. The alley was empty, but the stranger pressed on, shying away from the patches of starlight, confident that the quarry had not gone far. A light suddenly snapped on in one of the houses and the hunter knew where she had gone to ground. Carefully the shadowy figure counted the houses back to the street with no name, before returning to Belvoir Avenue to find the house she lived in. There it was, as pretty as a picture, with flowers and a high hedge blocking the view of the windows. A winding path led to a green front door with a solid brass letterbox. It wasn’t heaven but it was the abode of an angel. Noting the address the watcher set off up the avenue and was long gone by the time Marion came out of the shower.

Twelve

A week later, armed with her parents’ consent, (well resignation to the inevitable) Ilsa, with Henri in tow made a discreet entrance to an extraordinary meeting of Greensoc. For once Herni was keen to attend, for what was on the agenda today came under the heading of ‘never in my wildest dreams’. The econude protest was going ahead. Susie had made up her mind and the meeting had been called to plan direct action against companies that provided air conditioning in the summer. There were going to be many facts and figures, and carbon footprints would be impressed upon his brain until it shrieked in pain, but for once he could cope with that. Oh yes he thought as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“You cold or something” demanded Isla

“No, why”

“You’re rubbing your hands together. It had better not be cold in there” she continued.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine babe”

“It’s all very well for you to say that, you’ve got a jumper to keep you warm”

“Not my choice, babe, you know I’d be happy to join in your protest”

“Mm, I do think Susie is bit over zealous on this”

So did Henri but he saw no reason to object.

As usual they were the last in.

“Make sure the door is locked Henri” Lois Holding told him.

“Sure, Louis, you can rely on me”

He took his place next to Isla. Across the table sat Susie. This was the first time he had seen her in a dress, albeit a long and shapeless effort beneath a large bulky woollen pullover. Next to Susie was her would be boyfriend, Pete Atkins. Would be if she noticed him, which she didn’t. There were a couple of other male crusties present, earnest types who never washed and would release the lions from the zoo if they could find a way of doing it without being eaten. They were of no interest to Henri. Usually the whole committee was of no interest to Henri, but today was going to be different, today the plan for nude protest would be presented and voted on. Henri knew which way he was going to vote, even if it meant the rest of the world seeing Isla in all of her glory.

“This extraordinary meeting has been called by Isla and Susie to discuss their proposal for naked action in the summer” began Louis to the rapt attention of all. He droned on about the carbon footprints of washing, laundering and air conditioning. This gave Henri the opportunity to give the other two female members of the committee the once over. Julie Langstone was small, vivacious and pretty and penci; thin. When she turned sideways she vanished. The opposite was true of Catherine Sanders. She must have huge carbon footprint given her size. For without a doubt Cat was the fattest vegetarian Henri had ever seen. His reverie was broken by Isla who had dug him in the ribs.

“Check the door again Henri” This he dutifully did while Susie outlined the planned protest. It wasn’t rocket science, all they would do is target a store or office, or anywhere they could gain entry, strip off and chant “Air con bad” There was a snappy slogan in there somewhere but nobody had quite come up with it yet. Henri sat down and gave Susie his full attention as she was getting to the juicy bits.

“After due consideration with the other girls we have decided that this will be a female only protest as you boys may be perceived as threatening and are more likely to be arrested. And as most security guards are male they can’t touch us with out being accused of indecent assault. They’ll rugby tackle you boys before you have got your pants over your shoes. Also given the nature of society a girls only protest will garner more publicity for the cause and the cause is predominant here”

The room was as silent at the gulfs between the stars

“So, as a way of affirming our intent, I propose we continue the meeting naked”

There was utter silence, the two crusties looked alarmed, Henri suspected that this was probably a concern over their personal hygiene rather than prudery.

“When I say we, I mean those of us who will actively protest.”

Louis interrupted “We’ll have to vote on this Susie”

“We already have. It was unanimous”

Lois was puzzled now.

“I don’t understand”

“It’s only us girls who are going to strip, Louis” said Catherine softly.

“But really, I do think we should show our support” Lois blustered. Henri looked around the male members, he didn’t see much support in their eyes, just a hunger for the coming show. A sharp dig in the ribs brought Henri to attention. Isla had told him about Susie’s conviction that only the girls should bare all. She knew she would never convince Susie to change her mind but that didn’t mean Isla was not going down without a fight.

“You know why, don’t you?” she had told Henri as they lay in bed the previous evening. Henri recognised a reciprocal question when he heard one. “She’s frightened of seeing an unleashed penis” she said, idly stroking Henri’s “She’s worrying there may be an erection on show” Henri’s penis duly responded to Isla’s stimulation, “She thinks you men can’t control; yourself” she continued rubbing the top of his swelling member between two fingers. She suddenly let go and stared intently at his fully erect penis with all the astonishment of an amateur conjuror performing a successful rope trick for the first time. “And she’s right”

Henri sighed. He was just beginning to enjoy Isla’s attention. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to get any more. “I can control myself around naked women as long as they don’t start playing with me” he told her.

“Ah, but that’s not what little miss perfect thinks, oh no. She thinks that one glimpse of her bare body will send a man into uncontrollable lust. In her inexperienced little mind they’ll be saluting her faster than a guardsman meeting the Queen”

“So what do you want me to do. Strip off at the same time as you. I don’t mind but what about Loius and the crusties, will they strip, I bet Pete will be out of his pants as fast as a Parisian whore, but then he has trouble controlling himself when Susie is dressed. He nearly has an orgasm when she speaks to him”

“No sweetie, I don’t want you to strip, just put up a bit of a show, OK.” She reached again for his flaccid penis, “now where were we?”

So Henri did as Isla asked and steamed in to support Louis, but it was all to no avail. Susie was determined, the crusties were glued into their clothes and poor old Pete was bent double trying to control a raging erection clearly visible in his stiff jeans

The committee room was long and rectangular. It naturally divided into two parts, the meeting area with a large round table and a small kitchen area where the students could break off from their arduous negations and relax with tea and sandwiches. As Louis once again made a pitch for one off all off, Susie cut him off mid flow by standing and walking into the middle of this area. Without a word the other three girls followed. A deep silence fell within the committee room. Henri suddenly became aware of the rapid beat of his heart. The muffled sounds of the student union going about its normal business crept under the locked door.

It was Isla who took the lead and quickly pulled her long dress over her head, draped it on a chair and stood still, arms by her side showing no sign of embarrassment. This surprised all, but Henri, who had had much time to reflect upon his girlfriend’s sudden conversion to casual nudity since the Christmas holidays. He would dearly like to know why Isla, who had gone home a normal student, who would happily strip for sex, but that was all had turned into a rampant nudist who had to be reminded to dress when company was expected. He dared not ask Isla in case she interpreted the questions as a rebuke and started to dress normally again. A prospect Henri viewed with some horror.

Susie was caught unaware and raced to catch up, almost tripping over the hem of her dress in her haste to show the slavering boys her body. What a body it was too, thought Henri, as his eyes devoured Susie’s bare flesh. He started at the only part of her left clothed, and moved upwards along firm thighs, through a small forest of blonde pubic hair, across a flat, pale stomach to firm, perfectly proportioned breasts with pertly protruding nipples. From there it was but a small journey over her bare shoulders to the familiar territory of her face that shone red in embarrassment. When his eyes met hers he stopped. Susie smiled at him, a message of triumph, and regret for what could have been. Isla was right, Susie had insisted on the boys remaining clothed because she didn’t want to see them naked, she didn’t want their unleashed penises showing their lust for her, especially as she had no interest in any of them, except that was for Henri. He could have been hers, but for the painful fact he was Isla’s This she regretted bitterly, but the die was cast. Susie would never betray her friend; this was against all her principles. So she held his eyes as she stood naked before him and smiled a rueful smile for what might have been. Henri had no such scruples and he would have happily do two timed Isla with not the slightest twinge to his conscience. All that stopped him was bitter experience. He had dated two girls at school, and when they found out he learnt a telling lesson. Not only did they both dump him, but they proceeded to spread such vicious invective around the small town he lived in that no girl would even speak to him. No, it was one at a time for Henri now, and although Isla’s bare body was a small candle next to the stellar beauty of Susie, it’s not just looks, it’s how you use it that counts and Isla may not have had the bodywork of a Rolls Royce, but she had the engine of a Ferrari and Henri was well satisfied with the ride.

That left Julie and Cat standing side by side in their long dresses. Clearly the girls had chosen this form of attire fro the ease of undressing. Julie swallowed hard, smiled at no body in particular, nudged Cat who shrugged and said “Oh well, what the hell,” In unison they began to disrobe. Cat wiggled sensually as she squeezed her large body out of her clothes, while the tiny Julie merely pulled the straps from her shoulders and let the blue patterned summer dress fall to the ground, she stepped out of it and smiled at the boys, who stared silently eyes and pants bulging.

Cat was astonishing, Henri had never seen such flesh, and it was all as solid as a rock, her thighs bulged, her midriff swelled as if pregnant. Many a time had heard of woman’s breasts being referred to as melons, but he never once thought that they came that big. He wondered how she managed to stand upright.

That left Julie, thin Julie with tiny breasts that were like small mounds, each one tipped by an exquisite cherry nipple. Her long dark hair caressed her shoulders, but the rest of her body was hair free, her long pink vagina visible for all to see least anyone doubt her femininity. That brought a stray thought back into Henri’s mind, why had Isla grown hers again. She had gone home in December fashionably bald, by the time she returned there was considerable regrowth, which she made no attempt to rein in. More and more Henri wanted to know what had happened over Christmas, and why had she gone home over the weekend?

Susie broke into his reverie. “Shall we resume our seats?”

The girls returned to their chairs, they had chosen to sit next to each other with an empty space between Susie and Louis, and Isla on the other end next to Hanri who was more than used to his girlfriend in the nude.

“Well I think the disrobing went well and should achieve the effect we are looking for. Once we are naked, you boys will start to chant our slogan”

“What’s that” asked Louis who had regained his composure.

“Er well, we have’t quite got one yet, we’re looking for something catchy, you know, like ‘Meat is Murder’ and ‘I’d rather go naked than wear fur’. Has anybody got any ideas?”

Henri had a suggestion “It’s not snappy enough, but something about the con in air con, I dunno I’ll think about it”

“What about the Police” asked Julie, finally finding her voice.

“I’ve checked that out” Susie told her “and it’s not illegal unless someone objects. They have never arrested anybody who agreed to dress when told to”

The look on Julie’s face told Henri there would be no problem there. “What about photographs?” asked Cat.

“Well that is the whole point” responded Isla leaning back comfortably in her chair. “Publicity for the cause. You’re not thinking of backing out are you Cat?”

What’s she worrying about thought Henri, Susie’s the front page model. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Oi you sanctimonious environmental veggies, your time is up” came a loud voice. There was a rattling on the door handle, “Why’s this door locked?”

“We’re having an orgy” Isla called back to them.

“Well let us in, we’ll show you a good time”

“Fat chance” called Julie. “Shall we adjourn Louis?”

”Under the circumstances I think so”

There was a rattle at the door, and a girl’s voice”

“C’mom Isla, what are you doing?”

“I’m just getting dressed, Vicky, give me a moment”

The girls walked over to the kitchen area and to the boys great regret climbed back into their dresses.

“All decent” said Isla and without checking opened the door.

“What was all that for, man” complined an tall gangly youth with a baseball cap tilted to an angle that would be instantly recognised as not quite right by a local street gang.

The short girl with spiky red hair behind him seemed to know

“You really going through with this?”

“Mm hm” replied Isla

“With what?” demanded the youth who liked to be called Desmond.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Toby” Cat told him

Eleven

Nipples to the left of him, nipples to right. By all rights Brain should have been as happy as a pig wallowing in pure gravy. Here he sat at the dinner table book ended between two naked women. The left breast to the right of him belonged to his wife while the smaller, perter, right breast to his left was his daughter’s. Moreover he was still dressed. Soon after complementing her mother on her outfit Isla had joined her by sporting her own version which was smaller, better fitting and, it had to be said, properly ironed. Brian had escaped having to bare all with the flimsy excuse of being cold. He was unhappy because Marion had brought up the n word again.

Isla had agreed with her mother “I think we are nudists, I mean just look at us”

“Well apart from your father”

“And how many of my friends have seen their father naked?”

Brian winced, this was not a good evening. Unfortunately for Brain this was the best part of the evening, he had no idea how much worse it was going to get. He tried to retrieve some sanity.

“Well, I asked your Mother if she wanted to join a nudist club and she said no”

“Oh there’s more to nudism that joining a club, we all like being nude at home, which makes us nudists”

Marion upped the stakes “That’s exactly what I told your father, and it’s time we stopped hiding the fact from our friends. I’m sick and tired of running for my clothes every time Linda calls”

“Oh come on Marion” Brain was getting heated now, “you know how attitudes are in this country, we’ll end up a laughing stock”

“Oh I don’t know dad, people are more fair minded than the tabloid press. I think you may be pleasantly surprised. Anyway if she disapproves then just tell her you’ll get dressed when she calls around”

Brian didn’t like the way things were going, it was time to play his ace.

“If you bring it up now. She’ll think you are the naked angel”

This stopped the conservation dead. Isla looked at both of them. Marion explained the newspaper article.

“Oh come on Dad” exclaimed Isla “Nobody is going to walk about stark naked in the middle of a freezing night” she paused before adding the final Jenga brick onto Brian’s tottering pile but “it could be a good way to casually bring up the conversation with Linda”

He may not have won the trump, but he had outplayed his wife whose weakness lay in the knowledge that Linda may just have been looking at the wrong time.

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings” she replied enigmatically before changing the subject, “How’s uni then Isla? I see you have let hair grow, and not just on the top of your head.”

“Well there is something I need to tell you guys”

OhmyGodshespregnant was the only thought that raced through Marion’s mind. The same thought had simultaneously taken prime of place in Brian’s consciousness. After Isla had laid their mind to rest in that respect she outlined her plans.

“I felt it only fair to bring you guys up to speed on out econude protests. I wouldn’t want you to find out by reading all about me in the paper”

‘Unlike your mother’ thought Brian. By the time Isla had outlined her summer project both her parents were beginning to come round to the idea that pregnancy would have been preferable. They also knew there was no way in hell that Isla could be persuaded to change her mind. All Brian and Marion could do was grin while Isla bared it.

Ten

Brian was not amused. He was sitting at a plastic table, in the plastic interior of an ersatz American diner with two of his work colleagues. John, a happily married philanderer and Jan, an unhappily married ditherer who was the latest objective of his raging libido. Jan had invited Brian along as a chaperone, and then proceeded to ignore him throughout the lunch.

“Did you hear about the naked angel?” John asked of Jan. Brian decided it was time to leave. He knew john’s MO and this was as tactful as it got. “Here Brain you might know something about this. It was in your area” A cold hand gripped Brain’s heart. “Apparently some chef was wandering around and had a stroke. Then some woman who drives around in the nude stopped and gave him the kiss of life.” Brian looked at John through narrowed eyes, but John only had eyes for Jan.

“Is that what it’s like where you live Brian?” he asked, eyes firmly locked on Jan “all the women driving around in the nuddy.” Jan licked her lips and smiled, “perhaps I should move there?” she suggested. John laughed, Brian was in no mood for foreplay, he broke in sharply “And where did you get this information from?” This broke the spell.

“All over the Mercury, you get the local rag?” asked John.

“Yes, Marion reads it, but I never……. Look I need to get back” Brain rose hastily to his feet and gave John some money. “If that’s not enough let me know” he said as he left in hurry.

Jan turned to John, “What’s into him, do you think it’s true, people drive around starkers in his neck of the woods?”

John snorted, “It’s strictly Stepford around there, I doubt his wife takes her clothes off to have a bath.”

Even though he knew there would be one at home Brian couldn’t wait and went to the nearest newsagent where for the exorbitant price of 80c bought another copy of ‘The Nelson Mercury’. Hiding it under his coat like a schoolboy with a dirty magazine he scurried back to his office. The naked angel had made page seven. It was clearly the work of a new girl who had been given the graveyard shift. She had taken a phrase muttered by an incoherent and very ill man and proceeded to turn it into a half page spread.

‘Who is the naked angel of Nelson?’ the banner headline screamed. The foundation of the article appeared to be the delirious ramblings of a chef who had been found lying in the street suffering from a massive stroke. During a casual chat with the ambulance crew she had learned he had been muttering about being saved by a naked angel. The crew had told her the man was hallucinating, but that had only spurred the journalist on to quizzing the staff at the emergency call centre. Despite being told that the patient himself had dialled for an ambulance, Julie Lewis had perused her story. The police were completely non committal when asked about the legality of a naked woman roaming the streets, pointing out that they had no reports of such a thing happening in the area, ever. The only man who had seen the naked angel was now lying in a coma in a hospital bed. Faced with such robust denial and the flimsiest of evidence the editor of the Mercury did what all newspapermen would do under such circumstances. Never allowing the truth to get in the way of a good story he published it. Normally Brian would have dismissed the article out of hand but for one minor fact, the man had been struck down thirty yards from his house, and, unlike the police, Brain did know of a woman who roamed the neighbourhood in her birthday suit.

He stuffed the paper in his drawer and tried to get some work done, but it was no use, he couldn’t concentrate and as soon as it was politic to do so Brian sloped off home. When he arrived their copy of the local paper had arrived. Marion had not. He laid the paper on the hall table and went to make himself some tea. A few moments later he heard the key in the lock.

“You’re home early, dear” called his wife. She breezed into the kitchen and gave him a peck on the cheek

“I’d love a cup of tea” she told him, “I’ve had such a busy day. I can’t tell you the trouble I had sorting out that software company’s books” She kicked her shoes off. “That feels good” she said with relief as she placed them in the utility room. “It was so hot there, and the room was so stuffy” she complained as she unbuttoned her blouse. She stuffed that straight into the washing machine and proceeded to take off her skirt which she sniffed suspiciously, “Hrrmph that will have to be dry cleaned” she muttered draping it on the back of a chair. Brian finished pouring his wife’s tea while she continued her striptease. She dumped her underwear into the washing machine and sat down gratefully at the kitchen table. “Not joining me darling?”

“I’ve got a cup thanks” he told her.

“In the nude” she chastised.

“Trifle chilly for me” he told her. He rarely shed his cardigan, let alone his underpants. Now and again Marion would get sulky and start to pout and tell him he was an old stick in the mud and he should join her. So to keep the peace and, more importantly, keep his wife naked around the house he would reluctantly bare all for an “in the all together evening”. On the whole Marion didn’t seem to mind him being fully clothed while she wandered the house as nature intended.Which was just fine by him.

Brain watched his wife carefully as she scanned the local paper. Not a flicker of acknowledgement crossed her face as she passed over the story of the naked angel. Nor did she remark on its closeness to home. Marion was able to pass nervelessly across the story because she had already read it. Someone had pointed it out to her at work.

“Don’t you live near Belvoir Avenue, Marion?” one of the two partners who ran the company had asked her. He pushed the paper towards her. Panic rose inside her as she saw the headline. Mustering all the self control possible under the circumstances, Marion read the article. When she had got to the end she nearly collapsed with a mixture of concern and relief. Concern that the story of the nude rescuer was in the paper at all, and relief that Tomas was still alive. Better still he had not given a description of his personal angel.

“It’s all a bit flimsy” she stated noncommittally.

“Oh I don’t know” Dave continued in a mischievous voice, “We’ve all heard those stories about suburbia, a den of iniquity behind those net curtains”

Marion looked him straight in the eyes and replied coolly “Well I’ve never seen any naked women wandering the streets” emphasising the point with a nod. What was more, it was also the truth.

“Maybe,” Dave continued, “that is because you are the nude angel.” He winked. Marion felt her heart surge and a warmth in her cheeks as she blushed bright red.

“Only joking, Marion” Dave put in quickly. He liked to tease Marion, who he saw as overtly prim and proper, but perhaps, he thought to himself, he taken it a bit too far this time. Marion smiled weakly at him, Dave misinterpreted this gesture of relief as an acceptance of his apology.

She was therefore steeled for Brian’s scrutiny, and had answers prepared for any comments he might make about the article. That he made none brought forth a long held concern that her husband knew of her night time adventures. Not for the first time she considered telling him about her forays, because (and this sudden realisation shocked her) her recent close shave had only left her craving for more.

Before he could mention the article, the doorbell rang. Neither of them moved. Brian looked Marion, and she just sat at the table cup held in both hands, breasts brushing against her arms. “Shall I answer it?” she said, putting down the cup.

This stirred Brian, “Aren’t you going to put something on?”

“It’s probably Isla, she said she would be coming home for a few days, got a reading week.”

Brian shot his wife a suspicious look, why had she not told him this before, he thought as he got up and went into the hall.

He opened the door to a pretty young woman with long curly hair. She introduced herself as Julie Lewis. Brain’s memory whirred and found an answer, the journalist who had written that story, surely she had not tracked Marion down?

“I’m just following up on my story of the naked angel, are you aware of it?” Brain nodded “I suppose you didn’t see or hear anything last Thursday?”

“Oh no, nothing at all” he replied guardedly.

Julie Lewis nodded, “Do you know of anybody who saw or heard anything?”

Brian looked at her, she was in her early twenties, had a nice smile, and he could have made her day by asking her in to meet the naked angel, who was sitting on her bare bottom in the kitchen.

“No neither of us saw anything and none of our neighbours have spoken of it. In fact the first I heard of the story was in the paper”
“So what is your opinion of a naked woman roaming around in this area?”

“Well, um, as I read your report, there’s not a lot of evidence beyond the ramblings of a very ill man, unless of course you have some other witness.”

Brian was fishing now, this was dangerous. If she did have a witness it could arouse suspicions. She smiled

“No, not really, I’m just trying to get a flavour of the locality until Mr O Leary wakes up” She paused, “if he wakes up. Anyway thanks for your time.”

Marion was washing the tea cups when he returned to the kitchen. “Who was that dear?”

“Some reporter wanting to ask about a man who collapsed in the street last Thursday”

“Not the one who claimed he was rescued by a naked angel?”

“Yes, lucky I didn’t invite her in. She might have met one”

Marion gave him a withering look “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you darling?”

“But what if it was somebody else, like Linda next door, she would have just walked straight past me into here, and then she would have had a shock”

“Oh well” began Marion, “it’s bound to happen sometime, I’m fed up with scurrying for some clothes every time she comes around. I think it’s time she knew we were nudists”

Brian was stunned. It is not as if he hadn’t been expecting it, but it still came as a knee in the solar plexus shock, Marion had used the n word.

“What did you say?”

“We’re nudists Brian, or would you prefer the term naturist?”

No he wouldn’t actually, and come to think of it he rather objected to being called a nudist.

“So, does that mean you want to join a club?” he asked, heart somewhere around the soles of his shoes.

Marion gave it some thought, before replying. “No, I don’t think that is me really, but I’ll go along with it if you would like to do that”

His blood began to boil, do that! He was standing there in his business suit, not his birthday suit. She was the nudist not him.

“But I do think we should spend more time in the nude together, perhaps when the weather is nicer we could try being naked outdoors, I’ve heard that is nice, or maybe we could find a nice quiet beach somewhere.”

Brain could barely believe his ears, he was about to explode, and the last thing he needed to hear was the sound of a key in latch and a cheery hello from his daughter.

“In here, dear” called Marion completely unaware of her husband’s distress.

“Hi dad” she greeted her father with a peck on the cheek. “Hi mum looking good, I like the outfit”

Marion kissed her daughter and smiled, “Bag full of washing?” she asked.

“Not much” she replied. Brian missed this; it was a portent of things to come.