Twenty
The scorching afternoon dissolved into a warm evening as Isla related her stories of notoriety. Finally Marion interrupted “I think it is time to start cooking dinner, you weren’t planning on going out?”
“Oh no” replied Isla who was a little concerned about visiting her old haunts now everyone she had ever known had seen her naked. She thought she would just die if she met her old headmistress in the street.
“It’ll be about half an hour, I’m sure you need to freshen up.”
This was Marion’s way of telling them both they smelt. Isla took the hint. Henri who had been smelling his stale sweat for a some time now was grateful of the opportunity for a shower.
“Right ho” replied Henri, “I’m afraid I haven’t brought anything smart.”
“Oh, no need to dress, we’re quite casual here.” Before Isla could comment her mother turned to her “Henri’s in the attic room”
“Dad!” complained Isla turning towards her father. She knew very well who to blame.
“I’m sorry about this” Isla told Henri as she led him up the stairs to the attic.
“Oh that’s alright, it’s their house. My parents were the same when my sister’s boyfriend came to stay.”
“Yes, but I’ll never be able to sneak up here without them hearing” complained Isla.
Henry grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. “We don’t have to restrict ourselves to night time manoeuvres” he whispered into her ear.
“Or indoors either” she told him, her breath felt hot his neck, “I know a spot in the wood that’s just perfect”
“Won’t that be hard on your back?” Henri suggested.
“Yes, but not on yours” She gave him a playful slap on the backside as crossed the room to the window. He looked dawn on the garden. It was like a medieval maze with bushes all over the place. Next door a woman in shorts and a skimpy pink top was watering some plants with a hose. She was tall and thin, wide at the hips, with long blonde hair. ‘The naked woman behind the green door’ thought Henri ‘maybe tomorrow when the sun is out..’ he’d keep an eye open.
“Who’d have thought it?” Isla muttered looking over his shoulder, “Linda wandering around naked?”
“You set the trend babe” he told her
“And I’m the best” she said as she removed her top.
“What are you doing, we’re expected downstairs in ten minutes” exclaimed Henri
“I’m taking a shower” replied Isla
“What if your parents come in?”
She laughed, they won’t it’s you room. They’ll hear the shower and think it’s you” she replied as she removed the rest of her clothes.
“Please Isla, I’ve only just got your dad onside”
She put her hand on her bare hip, and wiggled her waist, “Well if you don’t want to have a shower with me…”
“Oh come on babe, you know there is nothing I would like better, but this is not the place nor the time.”
She smiled, picked up her clothes and walked naked from the room, “I’ll just have to shower downstairs then.”
Henri cleaned himself up as quickly as he could, chose the cleanest clothes he could find and tiptoed downstairs. He was relieved to hear Isla singing in the shower as this enabled him to get downstairs without being dragged into her bedroom.
Isla had showered and was drying her hair when she remembered her mother’s comment.
“Oh, no need to dress, we’re quite casual here.”
As quickly as she could she dashed upstairs to warn Henri of what her mother meant went she had said dress was casual. But Henri had already gone. Isla sprinted down the stairs in the vein hope of catching him before he went into the kitchen and got the shock of his life.
Too late. Isla burst into the kitchen and there was Henri drinking beer with her father as her mother plated up the starter of prawns and smoked salmon. What ever Isla had been about to say died on her lips. Henri, Brain and Marion stood frozen in time and speechless. They were also, more to the point, fully dressed.
“Ah” said Isla backing towards the door, “Sorry, er slight misunderstanding of the word casual”
“There’s no air conditioning here” Marion told her. “Well there’s no point scurrying off now, after all, the entire world’s seen you naked. Sit down and eat your meal”
To Henri’s utter amazement Isla did just that. Having dinner with your girlfriend’s parents is always a difficult experience but to sit at the table making polite conversation while your girlfriend sits next to you stark naked made the experience a whole lot worse. Throughout the meal Brain and Marion kept asking him questions.
“What are you reading at University?”
“What do your parents do?”
“What was it like growing up in Milton?”
“Have you any brothers and sisters?”
And Henri would drag his thoughts away from Isla’s breast with its pert pink nipple and the small brown moles either side, not quite in a line. And when he could drag his eyes away from her breasts they treacherously dropped to her alabaster thighs that were firmly crossed. He gazed speechless at the small tufts of jet black pubic hair that poked up, like young seedlings desperately seeking the sunlight.
He tried to answer the questions lucidly but he could hear himself fumbling, his answers rambling and incoherent. It would be understandable had he never seen Isla naked, but of course he had, everyone’s eyes had roamed free over her bare flesh. Nobody had explored her body quite as thoroughly as Henri, who had been over every inch, as well as investigating a few crevasses. Even so her nakedness unsettled him; and it showed.
This nervousness endeared Henri to Marion and Brian. They would have expected most men his age to have sat there with their tongues hanging out. Henri stared, but who could blame him for that. It seemed, however, he gaze was of astonishment where others would have displayed lust. Of course neither of Isla’s parents were thinking rationally either. The mere appearance of their daughter in all her glory had unsettled them. Even Marion, who had threatened to do the same on many occasions herself, was shaken by her daughter’s complete lack of shame.
She needn’t have worried on that score. Isla was certainly feeling the shame; she just tried not to let it show. How could she have been so stupid? What could have possessed her? Looking back over the last few months, it was true, she had hardly ever seen her mother in clothing, but as far as she knew only she and her father were privy to their naked lifestyle. How could she have been so blind, she should have realised her parents would never be naked in front of Henri.
But the moving finger having writ moves on and there was no going back. She had turned up for dinner in her birthday suit. Running away would merely have compounded her guilt. Isla had considered making a pretence of being cold and run upstairs to dress, but it wasn’t cold and, after all, she had one of the most famous bodies in the world now. Everyone had seen it, so why hide.
“It’s so hot” she announced, “I don’t know how you can bare it being dressed”
Her mother looked daggers at her, “perhaps you would help me serve the main course Isla” she demanded, rather than asked, as she rose from the table like a mastodon from the primeval swamp.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Isla? Why are you naked?”
“I didn’t mean to come to dinner in the nude”
“It’s supposed to be a mistake?” asked her incredulous mother nearly dropping the steamed potatoes.
“I just forgot I was starkers that’s all”
“Oh what, so you spend so much time in the nuddy, you can’t remember if you’re wearing clothes or not!”
“Well just like you then” Isla replied, hackles beginning to rise.
“No not just like me, I remember to put some clothes on when we have some company”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“You seriously think I would greet your new boyfriend with just a smile?”
“Well clearly not, but how was I supposed to know?”
“What?”
“You said dress casual for dinner”
Marion waved her hands over her summer dress, “Yes, this is casual, for me”
“No it’s not” shouted Isla, “this is casual for you” waving her hands over her naked form.
Marion took her point. “Well you could have checked before you came barging in in your birthday suit”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to do, I came out of the shower and it suddenly hit me that you set casual, and by God mother when you usually say casual dress that means no dress at all”
A small cough broke into their argument. Brain stood at the doorway. “Er, we can hear you, you know”
That stopped them both, Marion looked at Isla “you better try and explain. Brain help me with his will you”
Henri was sitting bemused; he had heard the argument and witnessed the pain on Brain’s face. Isla slipped in and grabbed him by the hand and led him into the garden.
“I’m sorry about this hun” she told him.
“It’s cool” he replied, “Your family are nudists, it explains quite a lot about you”
“You don’t mind” she asked.
“No it’s fine” a cloud passed over Henri’s sunny face. “You don’t want me to join in to you?”
“Do you have a problem” An accusation rather than a question. Henri pondered for a moment
“No,” he appeared uncertain, then continued more confidently, “no I’ll be fine.” he deliberated again before asking “now?”
“No, not now I think it will take my parents a while to decide what to do”
“Oh right, you’re not planning on getting dressed are you”
Isla smiled and wiggled her hips suggestively. “I don’t know, what would you prefer”
“You know how much I admire your body” he told her with a lascivious smile. She smiled back.
“Nude it is then” she told him as he grinned, “but don’t get any ideas, there’ll be no night manoeuvres. You’ll just have to wait until morning” she told him firmly.
Several months ago Brian had enjoyed a meal due to the presence of his naked wife and also not enjoyed a meal due his bare daughter. Henri enjoyed the rest of the meal, who wouldn’t as he was sitting next to his girlfriend who was wearing a watch and a green wristband that identified her as a warrior of the environment. What preyed on his mind however was the looming presence of his girlfriend’s mother, who now she was outed as a nudist, may just join her daughter at the drop of a hat. Or in her case the drop of a summer dress.
“I’ve explained the situation to Henri and he understands” Isla told her parents.
“And what dear” began Marion as her husband looked on with all the futility of peasant charged with teaching a horse to sing, “have you told Henri”
“That we are nudists”
“Ah” replied Marion as Brian contemplated stabbing himself with his fork to test if this was a nightmare.
“Better out than in” she sighed. This was not a sentiment shared by her husband.
Henri felt he should say something “I did rather suspect, what with Isla’s penchant for strolling around naked.” The look on Brain’s face told him that his was probably not his finest contribution to the dinner table conversation. He’d already put his foot well and truly in it so Henri thought he might as well carry on. “So are you guys members of a club”
“Oh no” replied Marion “we’re not that type of nudist”
Brian winced at the sound of the N word.
“We’re just a trifle casual with our dress at home” Isla explained.
“And some of us outside as well!” put in Brian
“That’s a legitimate protest, dad” protested his daughter. But that was not what Brian was referring to.
“So what’s you position on nudity Henri” asked Marion in an attempt to steer the conversation away form her night time excursions.
“I’m easy” replied Henri, hoping this was vague enough. It was, so Isla decided to clear away any lasting confusion.
“Don’t worry, I’ve converted him, he’s fine with nudity now”
‘Please don’t say it’ Brian prayed fervently to himself.
“Well, in that case” said Marion, “maybe later in the week we can have that casual dinner, what do you say Isla”
Isla blushed all the way from her face to her pink puffy nipples
Henri just stared at Marion in her floral summer dress topped off with her best necklace. Would she be wearing just the pearls this time tomorrow he wondered, or would she be the complete nudist. His money was on the pearls.
Twenty one
The following morning Henri woke alone. Isla had been as good as her word and had not suddenly begun to sleepwalk. He read a book and listened to the sound of the house, the doors opening and closing, muffled conversations, the humming of hair driers. Finally the goodbyes of first Brian, and then Marion as they left for work. Henri laid down his book and waited for Isla. After a full fantasy laden quarter of an hour where Henri imaged all sorts of wild sex, he began to think that she wasn’t going to come. Perhaps she was waiting for him. Mindful that this was not his house Henri dressed in an old shirt and a pair of frankly disgusting shorts, and as quietly as he could descended the stairs to Isla’s room. It was empty. That was an exaggeration, it was actually stuffed full of cuddly toys, there were clothes everywhere, the dressing table was invisible under a pile of make up, hair starighteners, hair drier. What it lacked was the architect of this mess: Henri decided to widen his search.
He finally tracked Isla down to the kitchen where she lounged in a comfortable chair with the morning paper covering her modesty. She looked critically at her lover, “Why are you wearing those clothes”
“I didn’t know if your parents would still be here.”
“Well they’re not so you can get them off” Henri dutifully did as he was told. Isla sniffed the air. “And you haven’t had a shower”
“Well, I was only wondering if you were up, now I know, I’ll….” He wasn’t allowed to go any further.
“Oh you’re here now, what do you want for breakfast?”
“You” replied Henri with a big grin.
“You can have me later” Isla gave him a sly look, “first something to eat, you need to keep your strength up!”
He smiled as he sat down on the chair and settled back to watch the show. His eyes wandered freely over her bare flesh. The curve of her calves, the tiny tufts of hair that poked through the back of her thighs. She caught him staring and smiled as she sat opposite him, her small breasts brushing the table.
“Did you enjoy last night?” she asked licking her lips suggestively.
“Yes, I was a bit worried, but your parents seemed very nice”
“That’s not what I meant” she said firmly. “Did you enjoy looking at me, in all my glory?”
“You know I love to watch your body” he replied watching her rounded buttocks as she bent over to put the dirty plates in the dishwasher, “did you enjoy it, being the only one naked?”
Isla smiled as she stood; hand on one hip, the bright light from the window sparking in her eyes. “I wouldn’t be the only one in the buff now……. if my mother got back early.”
Henri panicked, and then caught himself. It’s not often a young man could give a plausible explanation for being found naked in his host’s kitchen, with the host’s naked daughter. If Marion walked in now he could brazenly shake her hand with no more said, provided he remained seated. Should he stand there would be than his right hand outstretched.
Isla drifted around the kitchen like a dream, clearing the rest of the dishes. Then with a flourish she pulled away the white line table cloth that Henri had been using as a hide. Isla grinned mischievously, placed her finger in her mouth and started to suck on it. She looked over the edge of the table to observe the result.
“I think it’s playtime” she said with a grin.
Henri got up and grabbed hand, pulling her towards the door. Isla pulled back.
“No here” she told him pushing herself up onto the table, legs open. She shivered briefly as she lay back on the smooth polished wood.
One minute later following a series of groans and high pitched squeaks, both Henri and Isla got the message. The table wasn’t up for it. They however were, so with all their bits bouncing, and giggling manically in anticipation they raced each other up the stairs to the more receptive bed in the attic room.
Two hours later they were woken by the sound of the telephone. Isla dashed down to her bedroom. She returned in animated conversation.
“Yes of course I’ll sponsor you”
“What’s it for?”
To Henri’s ears the voice in Isla’s earphone sounded like an angry hornet.
“What do you have to do?”
Or perhaps a bee, flitting from flower, to summer flower.
“You’re going to do what? This I have to see”
The bee buzzed and buzzed for at least a minute.
“Is that all?” Isla replied condescendingly before ending the call with “One thirty, Marlborough Arms, see you there Alice”
“Who was that?” asked Henri
“My old school friend”
“I take it we’re going out”
“Indeed we are; mind if I use the shower here?”
“Be my guest, mind if I join you?”
They were nearly late for the old school reunion.
There was no naked dinner with Isla and her parents that evening. It was well past one in the morning when the two of them staggered drunkenly into the house. With theatrical whispers they staggered up the stairs. Isla bade Henri a cheery goodnight and closed her bedroom door from the outside. Barely surpassing her laughter she followed Henri as quietly as she could in her inebriated state up the stairs to the attic room.
It was a poor deception which only half worked. It fooled Brain for the simple reason he was fast asleep. Unfortunately for Isla her mother was wide awake and knew precisely what was going on. On the plus side Marion didn’t really care. When she was Isla’s age, she was already pregnant, so there was no point in trying to take the moral high ground. In fact Marion was pleased her daughter was otherwise engaged as she had a little excursion of her own planned. As the sounds of muffled passion leaked down the stairwell, Marion slipped as silently as Isla had thought she was from the bed and tiptoed downstairs and out into the silent midsummer night.
Henri woke at some ungodly hour with a pain in his bladder. He knew it was early as it was not yet dawn. He fumbled his way towards the bathroom and relieved himself. Still half drunk he fell back into the bed which complained at this rough handling.
“Ouch,” moaned Isla, “did you have to dig me in the ribs” she pushed him away and, completely disorientated he fell onto the floor, where he sat awkwardly rubbing his head. “Quiet will you, do you want to wake my parents?”
“You pushed me out” he whispered, his voice rich with injustice.
“I’d better be going” she whispered giving him a mohito flavoured kiss, “where are my clothes?”
“You took them off before we got here”
“Oh right,” she said, stopping suddenly. “Henri, come here a minute”
Ever eager, he was by her side, fondling her bare behind. “Stop that” she demanded as she pointed out of the window “look there”
“Where?”
“There, in the lane behind the fence”
“There’s someone out there” Henri gulped “I swear they haven’t got any clothes on”
The bare form flitted into the shadows and was gone. Moments later a flash of flesh crossed a patch of moonlit ground. It was only a glimpse, but that was enough to confirm to both of them that the naked form was female.
“Did you recognize her” asked Henri
“Too far away.”
But their minds were as one. They’d been told two days ago and they hadn’t forgotten.
“That kid was telling the truth”
“So Linda’s the naked angel” whispered Isla
“The what?”
Isla told Henri the story of the cook, his stroke, and his mythical rescuer.
“Wow” was all he could say
“The question now is what shall we do? Julie Lewis has been hunting this story since it broke, she’d love to know who it was. Should we tell her?”
Before Henri could reply the click of a bedroom door echoed through the house.
“Damn” whispered Isla who shot out of the room.
Henri listened intently but nothing further disturbed the quiet of the very early morning in Belvoir Avenue. He returned to the window, but the lane now was empty. Presently he went back to bed and fell asleep. As usual he dreamt of naked women.
Twenty two
The catch, when it came, was sudden and unexpected. Henri and Isla were enjoying a leisurely late morning drink on the sun drenched patio. Henri was as observant as a bird, attentive to every sound from the other side of the hedge where the mysterious naked neighbour, Linda, lived. He stared constantly at the thick privet, desperately trying to see through it. The slightest indication of a presence drove him to his feet, pacing the patio looking for the smallest sliver of bare flesh through the green. It was during one of these excursions that he was taken by surprise, like a harvest mouse caught in the open hearing the sudden screech of the tawny owl.
“It’s nice out isn’t it?” said Marion in a cheerful voice. As his trousers were still up in his bedroom Henri was not able to put it back in again. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Fortunately neither Isla nor her mother seemed to notice let alone care.
“You’re back early, Mum”
Henri gulped, all he wanted was to be reunited with his clothes, but Marion was blocking the door, and now she seemed happy to chat. “I’m soaked with sweat,” she complained, that advertising agency had the air con off”
“Well that’s good” commented Isla at her most saintly.
“Well yes, if you’re dressed for it. The place was colder than an Alaskan dog kennel yesterday. I’m going to slip into something more casual” As she disappeared into the cool dark interior Henri came out of the blocks faster than an Olympic sprinter who had sat on a porcupine.
“Whoa, big boy, where do you think you’re going?” asked Isla.
“I’m going to get my clothes before your mother gets back.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t sit her in the buff talking to her, it’s bad enough she caught me in the nude”
“And where do you think she has gone?”
“She’s diplomatically got out of the way so I can go and get dressed.”
“Exactly the opposite” said Isla.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Then Henri understood what it meant “Oh, er, right”
And suddenly with the words “Well that’s better” Marion was there. Henri realised he had never seen anyone of that age naked before. He had once walked into the bathroom at home while his mother was in the shower, but had managed to beat a hasty retreat before he could catch a glimpse of flesh. Bizarrely he had been more worried than her. In fact she had found it quite amusing and teased him remorselessly in front of his sisters who also found it amusing until one of them had a thought. In Henri’s experience thought and his sisters’ minds occupied separate universes, but somehow an idea managed to bridge the gap and settle momentarily in Annie’s cerebrum.
“Oh my God,” she squealed, “what if it had been me, I’d have just died”
“No you wouldn’t Annie.” Replied their mother “Do you think you’ve got anything different under those clothes? We’re all the same, do you want to see mine and compare private bits?” She started to unbutton her blouse. This brought on a storm of protest from both his sisters while Henri looked at his shoes. Their mother stopped and smiled “There’s nothing wrong with nudity, as you’ll find out one day”
Well this was Henri’s day alright. Despite the teasing he had seen nothing of his mother’s body. The mere outline of her flesh though the translucent shower curtain had been enough to send him flying to his room. He would have the done the same now but for Isla. So here he sat, trapped with his naked girlfriend and her equally naked mother. He had expected Marion’s body to wrinkled, like an old dry leaf with only the memory of the summer that had gone. He was pleasantly surprised to find quite the opposite. Her skin was as smooth as her daughter’s although it had to be said there was somewhat more of Marion than Isla. What would his mother and sisters say now he wondered? This was more than an idle daydream, they knew he was dating one of the most famous nudes on the planet. He had told his mother just before the protests began, as he had expected countrywide television coverage to show him standing on the sidelines. His family had followed Isla’s progress with interest. To his twin sister Amelie she was a green heroine, someone to be looked up to , but perhaps not followed. His elder sister Annie though it all disgusting. His parents position was ambiguous, the only comment had come from his mother, who after seeing Isla parading stark naked around the Sapphire Shopping Mall told him “She looks nice dear”
What they would make of her in the flesh? He’d find out soon as in a weeks time they were going north to meet his folks. He just hoped that meeting Isla in the flesh didn’t mean just that. Could she keep her clothes on for a week? He fervently hoped she would, but deep down he knew there would an unveiling at some point. Then what would happen, would Amelie emulate her heroine, would their mother carry out the threat she had dangled before them all those years ago. One thing was certain, Annie would walk out.
“So how was work” Isla broke into his reverie
“Like I said hot” replied her mother “and its all you fault”
“How’s it my fault”
“Well there’s an advertising campaign for the “Air con con” at the mall and they’re making a bid”
“So”
“So they have switched the air con off to impress the clients”
“Oh well” said Isla haughtily from her vantage point on the moral high ground “they could always go naked, like our slogan says”
Saturday, 19 June 2010
Saturday, 17 April 2010
eighteen
Nineteen
Henri knew that first impressions are important, and he was very aware that he wasn’t making one. They had taken the coastal route up to Nelson, stopping off at some friends overnight. By the time they got there they were both covered with the dust and the sweat of their journey. Isla’s parents were prepared to forgive this of their daughter but were not so understanding of the dishevelled boyfriend who stood for the first time in front of them. Henri was surprised to find he actually cared what they thought.
“Please call me Marion” Henri shook her hand, a middle aged suburban hausfrau right down to her pink toenails poking out of her unfashionable sandals. She wore a large summer dress which bore the pattern of inter crossing fern fronds.
Isla’s father shook his hand, a serious dark haired man with a pleasant face that wore a fixed smile that didn’t match his eyes. “Good to meet you at last, exactly how long have you two been going out together?”
“Dad, please” interjected Isla
‘Call me Mr Shaw’ thought Henri glumly.
Isla’s mother broke in to stop her overprotective father with the suggestion that everyone could do with a long cool drink. As they walked out into the garden with its potted blood red geraniums, Henri stared carefully at the hedge separating this garden from the one next door. He desperately searched for a chink through which he might glimpse that rarest of flowers, a naked neighbour. But Marion’s shrubbery shield was thorough and there was no chink in her armour. She waited until they were all comfortable before breaching the topic that had been hanging in the sultry air since Isla and Henri had arrived.
“Tell me about your protest”
Isla took a deep breath and began.
“Well, I have to say it was the most nerve wracking and exciting thing I have ever done at the same time. We went down to the mall and walked straight to the middle and … I was so nervous I can tell you, but there was no going back. Susie gave the signal and we whipped off our dresses. You could have heard a pin drop, then some woman gasped, so we started our chant. ‘Air con con, air con non, no clothes on before air con on’
Isla caught a glimpse of her mother’s face “It’s cheesy I know, but we couldn’t think of anything else. Anyway it was so good; being naked in the shopping mall you should try it some time”
Henri thought that this was an odd thing for Isla to say to her parents. He looked at them both, her mother serene and her father ready to gnaw his own head off.
“And then the security guards came, and Cat just stood in front of them hands on hips with her breasts jutting out and just dared them, ‘touch me and that’s indecent assault’ They backed off and decided it was more important to control the crowd. Most were really supportive, there was the odd pervert, and of course some young guys who had never seen a naked woman in the flesh before. You could tell by the way their tongue was hanging out.”
Henri also remembered the day well; there was utter chaos as the four young women strolled, with no shame, through the shopping mall. Some people tired not to notice, most sneaked glances while a few honest souls openly stared. Then there young men with their phones, snapping away sending them to their mates. “Come on darling, spread ‘em for me” That was unpleasant but they cheered up the security guards who could vent their pent up frustration by forcibly ejecting them. Susie was the magnet, but she didn’t care because the cause meant more to her than her exposed body. After all it was exposure they craved, as they strolled through the cool marble halls, breasts bouncing, firm buttocks quivering with each footstep. The bonanza they were waiting for, a TV crew, never came, the police beat them to it. Cat and Susie came to a sudden halt before two burly policemen, accompanied by two petite policewomen. By the look on their faces the policewomen would have no qualms with physically arresting some naked female students.
The policeman asked them why they were naked. He winced as Susie stood before him, hands on hips, legs apart and gave him the green broadside.
“If you don’t get dressed now” he told them all firmly, “you will be arrested”
They had discussed this and were all agreed the cause would serve little if they were taken into custody. So all four girls capitulated politely, took their dresses from the accompanying boys and allowed themselves to be escorted form the mall to the impatiently waiting press pack outside.
After half an hour of interviews they caught a bus to the other side of the city, and following a leisurely lunch in the park, went out and did it all over again.
“So you never got in trouble with the police” commented Brian offering grateful thanks to whatever gods may be.
“Henri nearly did” giggled Isla
“I thought it was a girls only protest?” asked her mother with a little concern.
“It was, but in the Freeglade Mall there was this pervy guy, he kept calling to me. ‘Jus rub your tits darling, go on spread them and ugh, some really disgusting stuff, so Henri grabbed his camera off him and smashed it into his face”
“Well done” said Biran, turning to Henri for the first time since he greeted him at the door, “did you do any damage”
“Not really, those cameras are quite robust” Henri replied with some regret.
“I wasn’t referring to the camera” Brain replied through gritted teeth
“Oh I see,” Henri grinned, “just a broken nose and a split lip that needed six stitches”
Brian smiled, “Care for another beer Henri”
“Oh yes please Mr Shaw”
“Call me Brian,”
Henri knew that first impressions are important, and he was very aware that he wasn’t making one. They had taken the coastal route up to Nelson, stopping off at some friends overnight. By the time they got there they were both covered with the dust and the sweat of their journey. Isla’s parents were prepared to forgive this of their daughter but were not so understanding of the dishevelled boyfriend who stood for the first time in front of them. Henri was surprised to find he actually cared what they thought.
“Please call me Marion” Henri shook her hand, a middle aged suburban hausfrau right down to her pink toenails poking out of her unfashionable sandals. She wore a large summer dress which bore the pattern of inter crossing fern fronds.
Isla’s father shook his hand, a serious dark haired man with a pleasant face that wore a fixed smile that didn’t match his eyes. “Good to meet you at last, exactly how long have you two been going out together?”
“Dad, please” interjected Isla
‘Call me Mr Shaw’ thought Henri glumly.
Isla’s mother broke in to stop her overprotective father with the suggestion that everyone could do with a long cool drink. As they walked out into the garden with its potted blood red geraniums, Henri stared carefully at the hedge separating this garden from the one next door. He desperately searched for a chink through which he might glimpse that rarest of flowers, a naked neighbour. But Marion’s shrubbery shield was thorough and there was no chink in her armour. She waited until they were all comfortable before breaching the topic that had been hanging in the sultry air since Isla and Henri had arrived.
“Tell me about your protest”
Isla took a deep breath and began.
“Well, I have to say it was the most nerve wracking and exciting thing I have ever done at the same time. We went down to the mall and walked straight to the middle and … I was so nervous I can tell you, but there was no going back. Susie gave the signal and we whipped off our dresses. You could have heard a pin drop, then some woman gasped, so we started our chant. ‘Air con con, air con non, no clothes on before air con on’
Isla caught a glimpse of her mother’s face “It’s cheesy I know, but we couldn’t think of anything else. Anyway it was so good; being naked in the shopping mall you should try it some time”
Henri thought that this was an odd thing for Isla to say to her parents. He looked at them both, her mother serene and her father ready to gnaw his own head off.
“And then the security guards came, and Cat just stood in front of them hands on hips with her breasts jutting out and just dared them, ‘touch me and that’s indecent assault’ They backed off and decided it was more important to control the crowd. Most were really supportive, there was the odd pervert, and of course some young guys who had never seen a naked woman in the flesh before. You could tell by the way their tongue was hanging out.”
Henri also remembered the day well; there was utter chaos as the four young women strolled, with no shame, through the shopping mall. Some people tired not to notice, most sneaked glances while a few honest souls openly stared. Then there young men with their phones, snapping away sending them to their mates. “Come on darling, spread ‘em for me” That was unpleasant but they cheered up the security guards who could vent their pent up frustration by forcibly ejecting them. Susie was the magnet, but she didn’t care because the cause meant more to her than her exposed body. After all it was exposure they craved, as they strolled through the cool marble halls, breasts bouncing, firm buttocks quivering with each footstep. The bonanza they were waiting for, a TV crew, never came, the police beat them to it. Cat and Susie came to a sudden halt before two burly policemen, accompanied by two petite policewomen. By the look on their faces the policewomen would have no qualms with physically arresting some naked female students.
The policeman asked them why they were naked. He winced as Susie stood before him, hands on hips, legs apart and gave him the green broadside.
“If you don’t get dressed now” he told them all firmly, “you will be arrested”
They had discussed this and were all agreed the cause would serve little if they were taken into custody. So all four girls capitulated politely, took their dresses from the accompanying boys and allowed themselves to be escorted form the mall to the impatiently waiting press pack outside.
After half an hour of interviews they caught a bus to the other side of the city, and following a leisurely lunch in the park, went out and did it all over again.
“So you never got in trouble with the police” commented Brian offering grateful thanks to whatever gods may be.
“Henri nearly did” giggled Isla
“I thought it was a girls only protest?” asked her mother with a little concern.
“It was, but in the Freeglade Mall there was this pervy guy, he kept calling to me. ‘Jus rub your tits darling, go on spread them and ugh, some really disgusting stuff, so Henri grabbed his camera off him and smashed it into his face”
“Well done” said Biran, turning to Henri for the first time since he greeted him at the door, “did you do any damage”
“Not really, those cameras are quite robust” Henri replied with some regret.
“I wasn’t referring to the camera” Brain replied through gritted teeth
“Oh I see,” Henri grinned, “just a broken nose and a split lip that needed six stitches”
Brian smiled, “Care for another beer Henri”
“Oh yes please Mr Shaw”
“Call me Brian,”
seventeen
Eighteen
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
sixteen
Seventeen
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Fifteen
“Tally ho!”
Like a hunter who had just caught sight of a fox John announced the arrival of Isla’s bare body to a box marked public property.
“Whoo hoo, four naked fillies in a shopping mall. Would you look at that!”
He turned his screen around to show Brian. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, but no. There she was in all her glory proudly holding a placard aloft. ‘Air con con’ was all the combined talent of the University of Canterbury was able to come up with, but it didn’t matter as nobody was looking at Isla’s slogan.
Brian had steeled himself for this moment, and instead of trying to bluff it out, went uncharacteristically onto the attack.
“I’ve seen it before” he told the enthusiastic John and the disapproving Jan. John, who was in full flow, screeched to halt.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter”
John stared closely at the screen. Jan, who up until now had been conveying silent messages of utter disgust at John’s lasciviousness, came to look too.
“My God,” said John, “it is Isla”
Jan was all sympathy, “Oh, I am so sorry Brian, how embarrassing”
Brian shrugged, “We tried to talk her out of it but she is completely committed to the cause”
“The last thing we need is a campaign against air conditioning” complained John, “it’s boiling in here”
“Well perhaps you should follow Brain’s daughter’s example” Jan told him.
“I will if you will”
Brian scrutinised John’s face very carefully. John had been trying to get inside Jan’s pants for months and Brian had a feeling he wasn’t getting anywhere near. The way he held Jan’s eyes for just a trifle longer than he would had he been familiar with his co workers’ body confirmed Brian’s suspicions.
Jan uttered the very words that were passing through Brain’s mind.
“In your dreams, mate”
Further discussion was curtailed by Marion’s phone call. Isla was on the national news at one. Not quite sure he was doing the right thing given John’s presence in the room Brian found the station’s webstream and the three of them gathered around the computer to watch his daughter and her friends parade naked through the Rockendon shopping mall.
It was a slow news day and the steaming weather was the top story. As the naked protest was related Brian only had to wait a few minutes before pictures of Isla, accompanied by a very skinny dark haired girl, and a large rotund blonde filled the screen. The camera quickly left them and zoomed in on the final member of the group.
“Will you look at that” John muttered under his breath. Even Jan gasped at the sight of Susie. Brian was ecstatic as he watched the gorgeous young woman lecturing a slavering reporter on the evils of air conditioning. He knew instantly that Isla was going to be sidelined completely. Susie was rattling off statistics faster than a demented politician defending the latest crime figures. No one was listening, there was only one figure of interest and that was the unwrapped body of Susan Blackwell. Tomorrow’s headlines had just written themselves, PHEW, WHAT A SCORCHER
“Oh my” said Linda. She and Marion were sitting naked in her kitchen watching the lunchtime news of television. “I wish I had her body” But Marion was not thinking about Susie’s perfection. Her mind was working in tandem with Brian’s, Isla was going to escape with much less exposure than she had feared. Meanwhile Linda continued to prattle on.
“She has a point, Marion, this heat so much more bearable without clothes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all walk around in the nude? Have you ever thought what it would be like to walk down the street naked? You should try it sometime”
Marion suddenly caught up with what her friend was saying.
“What do you mean Linda?” she asked carefully.
Linda looked at her with a hint of embarrassment.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Marion nodded her head slowly, dreading what was coming next. “Well I’ve, sort of well.” The room felt utterly silent despite the constant commentary from the television, “I don’t want you to think any the less of me.”
“I won’t Linda” Marion told her quietly.
“Well I’ve taken to going for midnight walks, au natural, so to speak” she blurted, looking desperately to Marion for absolution. Mistaking her friend’s look of sheer terror for surprise, Linda began to apologise, “I’m so sorry. I’ve shocked you”
“Er no well, I have to admit this is all a bit sudden”
Linda breathed easily, “So my secret’s safe with you”
“Oh yes, after all, we’re both in the same club, if you see what I mean” said Marion running her eyes down Linda’s naked body to emphasise her point.
“You could say the same nudist club” replied Linda laughing heartily at her own joke.
Rule one, thought Marion, is to never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. “Were you the naked angel, Linda?”
“Oh no, but the story was my inspiration, it set me thinking, what would it be like to walk down the lane in the buff?”
“And what is it like?” asked Marion who was better placed to know.
“Absolutely wonderful, you should try it sometime, in fact I was out there last night”
Marion nearly fell off her chair. “Oh dear I am shocking you aren’t I?” said Linda mistaking her confidant’s utter panic for surprise. “It was brilliant; I went all the way to the edge of the wood.” Marion’s eyes were wide, she held her breath, as her friend continued blithely, “I was going in but I was put off by the animal noises”
Marion was desperately thinking how she should respond to this. She was supposed to be a respectable housewife, who, after being led astray by her friend, was now sitting stark naked in a strange kitchen. Linda, whom she had previously considered to be an upstanding member of the community, was now admitting she walked nude through the neighbourhood. Should she be expressing outrage, or disgust, or perhaps admiration for Linda’s daring do? In the event all that emerged from Marion’s lips was a small squeak. With all the relief of a sinner finally unburdening herself, Linda continued blithely on.
“I tell you I think there must be some wild boar living in there, what with the grunts and the squealing and panting. It made me think twice I can tell you.”
”Oh yes, I can imagine” agreed Marion, “so you came straight back?”
“Absolutely, I didn’t want to meet a wild animal, what if it had charged me? How would I explain that, being out and about in the all together”
“Quite” agreed Marion, and continued quickly “Well, I think I have to get back now as I’ve some work to be getting on with.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, before breezily telling Linda, not to bother to get dressed as she could see herself out.
“You won’t tell anyone will you?” Linda pleaded again.
“Oh no, my lips are sealed” replied Marion who had absolutely no intention of telling Brian his mating calls had been heard by their equally naked neighbour who had mistaken them both for a pair of pigs.
“Stay naked” called Linda hopefully as Marion left.
“I’ll think about it” she replied.
Sixteen
As soon as she closed her own front door behind her Marion peeled off her shirt and went for a sit down. After Linda’s revelations she felt she needed one. Once the shock of her close call had worn off Marion began to realise that Linda’s admission to night time nude jaunts was not the problem she had thought it was going to be. She could still continue her rambling and if she did bump into her friend in then she could claim that Linda had been her inspiration. Cheered by this thought Marion smiled and was about to start some work when the doorbell rang. Once more donning her emergency long shirt Marion opened the front door.
Every year the European cycle season stages a classic race called the Paris–Roubaix. It is known as The Hell of the North as it pitches the riders from smooth metalled surfaces onto rough cobbled tracks that jar both body and machine. Marion’s day seemed to be following just such a course, for standing on her front porch was the last person Marion wanted to see, ever.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Shaw”
She was a good head smaller than Marion, and casually dressed in a brief summer dress. She held out a pass with her photograph and the word PRESS in large red letters. Marion didn’t need to read the name, she recognised Julie Lewis by her curls. “My name is Julie Lewis; I’m a reporter for the Nelson Mercury”
Marion said nothing, she just stared, waiting for, and dreading the next line. When it came it was a pleasant surprise, “I wonder if you had any comment on your daughter’s protest in the mall down in Christchurch this morning”
“Well naturally I have to give her my support and I am very proud of her conviction and dedication for such an important cause. I’m sure we all share her concern for the environment, and if Isla’s actions have some effect then it will have all been worthwhile”
“So you are happy that pictures of your daughter’s naked body are in the public domain?”
“Well I do wish she had chosen a different way of getting her point across.”
“Did she inform you she would be making a nude protest?”
”Oh yes we knew.”
”What does her father think, is Mr Shaw at home?”
“No he is at work, but he also gives Isla his support”
“I have spoken to your husband before, Mrs Shaw, on the reports of the naked angel. Was that your daughter too?”
“Absolutely not” replied the true angel, “Isla was away at university at the time. Has that cook woken up yet?”
Marion winced, she asked that too quickly. Fortunately the reporter didn’t pick up on it.
“Yes, but he remembers nothing of the evening”
Relief flooded Marion’s body like summer returning to a frozen wasteland.
“Or so he says” Julie Lewis paused, and smiled before continuing in a more conciliatory manner. “Look, Mrs Shaw, I think we can help each other here”
Oh, how” she snapped. It was Julie’s turn to wince. Marion gave her a small smile; she was still on tenterhooks and had not meant to be so sharp.
“Well, you are going to have journalists from the national papers contacting you. I could head them off for you. If they knew we had an exclusive, they will use the Mercury as a feed.”
“I see” said Marion thoughtfully.
Encouraged by the slight thaw she continued “what I would like is an inside story of your daughter’s protest, a local angle for the paper”
“Well I don’t know, that would be up to Isla”
“Would you put it to her, after all she is doing this for the publicity, and all I’m offering is more.”
Marion thought about this, and although she viewed Julie Lewis as an enemy hunting her down, it’s usually a good ploy to keep the enemy where you can see them.
“Come in” she said, “let me contact my daughter”
Marion led Julie through the darkened hall into the kitchen. She gestured to a high chair next to the breakfast bar. Mindful of the fact she was not wearing any underwear, Marion remained standing as she enquired if her guest would like a drink.
“Oh, yes please, its baking today, your daughter picked the right time for her protest, I almost feel like joining her” She laughed nervously as Marion shot her a piercing look. There would be nothing she would like better than to see her persecutor laid bare
Isla was full of herself and quite prepared to talk to the journalist. Mainly because this was actually her first interview, all the other journalists and TV crews had swarmed like bees around the honey pot that was Susie. Marion listened in as Julie talked to her daughter.
“I’d like to publish a form of a diary”
“No just yours, you are the local girl”
“No, photographs will be head and shoulders only, but we might stretch our readers’ sensitivities to a bare bum or two.”
“If I could join you on a protest; that would be great”
She laughed nervously. “No, I don’t think I’m up to that”
“Committee meeting, well I suppose so, if they are closed, and everyone else is”
Good girl thought Marion, get her kit off.
“Tomorrow, Cathedral Square, at ten, I’ll be there”
Later as they sat in twilight’s last hot and sweaty gleaming on their patio, Brain and Marion discussed the day. They agreed it had gone better than it could have. Brian had received much sympathy at work, but to enable them to empathise with Brian’s despair everyone had to have a good look at Isla’s bare body. Julie Lewis had been good to her word; no other journalists had bothered them. After much thought, Marion had given Brian a heavily abridged account of Linda’s nudity. She kept it to the sunbathing only. Given the surprise on his face Marion could only imagine the effect the news of her wandering the neighbourhood would have on him. If Brian had found out Linda was out and about at the same time as they were last night Marion would have been called upon to make her second au natural emergency call.
“You mustn’t tell anyone about Linda” she admonished him earnestly as she eyed his big grin, “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.” Marion paused for effect “After all, how would you like it if I told her about you?”
It took five minutes and a glass of water to cure Brian’s coughing fit.
Like a hunter who had just caught sight of a fox John announced the arrival of Isla’s bare body to a box marked public property.
“Whoo hoo, four naked fillies in a shopping mall. Would you look at that!”
He turned his screen around to show Brian. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, but no. There she was in all her glory proudly holding a placard aloft. ‘Air con con’ was all the combined talent of the University of Canterbury was able to come up with, but it didn’t matter as nobody was looking at Isla’s slogan.
Brian had steeled himself for this moment, and instead of trying to bluff it out, went uncharacteristically onto the attack.
“I’ve seen it before” he told the enthusiastic John and the disapproving Jan. John, who was in full flow, screeched to halt.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter”
John stared closely at the screen. Jan, who up until now had been conveying silent messages of utter disgust at John’s lasciviousness, came to look too.
“My God,” said John, “it is Isla”
Jan was all sympathy, “Oh, I am so sorry Brian, how embarrassing”
Brian shrugged, “We tried to talk her out of it but she is completely committed to the cause”
“The last thing we need is a campaign against air conditioning” complained John, “it’s boiling in here”
“Well perhaps you should follow Brain’s daughter’s example” Jan told him.
“I will if you will”
Brian scrutinised John’s face very carefully. John had been trying to get inside Jan’s pants for months and Brian had a feeling he wasn’t getting anywhere near. The way he held Jan’s eyes for just a trifle longer than he would had he been familiar with his co workers’ body confirmed Brian’s suspicions.
Jan uttered the very words that were passing through Brain’s mind.
“In your dreams, mate”
Further discussion was curtailed by Marion’s phone call. Isla was on the national news at one. Not quite sure he was doing the right thing given John’s presence in the room Brian found the station’s webstream and the three of them gathered around the computer to watch his daughter and her friends parade naked through the Rockendon shopping mall.
It was a slow news day and the steaming weather was the top story. As the naked protest was related Brian only had to wait a few minutes before pictures of Isla, accompanied by a very skinny dark haired girl, and a large rotund blonde filled the screen. The camera quickly left them and zoomed in on the final member of the group.
“Will you look at that” John muttered under his breath. Even Jan gasped at the sight of Susie. Brian was ecstatic as he watched the gorgeous young woman lecturing a slavering reporter on the evils of air conditioning. He knew instantly that Isla was going to be sidelined completely. Susie was rattling off statistics faster than a demented politician defending the latest crime figures. No one was listening, there was only one figure of interest and that was the unwrapped body of Susan Blackwell. Tomorrow’s headlines had just written themselves, PHEW, WHAT A SCORCHER
“Oh my” said Linda. She and Marion were sitting naked in her kitchen watching the lunchtime news of television. “I wish I had her body” But Marion was not thinking about Susie’s perfection. Her mind was working in tandem with Brian’s, Isla was going to escape with much less exposure than she had feared. Meanwhile Linda continued to prattle on.
“She has a point, Marion, this heat so much more bearable without clothes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all walk around in the nude? Have you ever thought what it would be like to walk down the street naked? You should try it sometime”
Marion suddenly caught up with what her friend was saying.
“What do you mean Linda?” she asked carefully.
Linda looked at her with a hint of embarrassment.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Marion nodded her head slowly, dreading what was coming next. “Well I’ve, sort of well.” The room felt utterly silent despite the constant commentary from the television, “I don’t want you to think any the less of me.”
“I won’t Linda” Marion told her quietly.
“Well I’ve taken to going for midnight walks, au natural, so to speak” she blurted, looking desperately to Marion for absolution. Mistaking her friend’s look of sheer terror for surprise, Linda began to apologise, “I’m so sorry. I’ve shocked you”
“Er no well, I have to admit this is all a bit sudden”
Linda breathed easily, “So my secret’s safe with you”
“Oh yes, after all, we’re both in the same club, if you see what I mean” said Marion running her eyes down Linda’s naked body to emphasise her point.
“You could say the same nudist club” replied Linda laughing heartily at her own joke.
Rule one, thought Marion, is to never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. “Were you the naked angel, Linda?”
“Oh no, but the story was my inspiration, it set me thinking, what would it be like to walk down the lane in the buff?”
“And what is it like?” asked Marion who was better placed to know.
“Absolutely wonderful, you should try it sometime, in fact I was out there last night”
Marion nearly fell off her chair. “Oh dear I am shocking you aren’t I?” said Linda mistaking her confidant’s utter panic for surprise. “It was brilliant; I went all the way to the edge of the wood.” Marion’s eyes were wide, she held her breath, as her friend continued blithely, “I was going in but I was put off by the animal noises”
Marion was desperately thinking how she should respond to this. She was supposed to be a respectable housewife, who, after being led astray by her friend, was now sitting stark naked in a strange kitchen. Linda, whom she had previously considered to be an upstanding member of the community, was now admitting she walked nude through the neighbourhood. Should she be expressing outrage, or disgust, or perhaps admiration for Linda’s daring do? In the event all that emerged from Marion’s lips was a small squeak. With all the relief of a sinner finally unburdening herself, Linda continued blithely on.
“I tell you I think there must be some wild boar living in there, what with the grunts and the squealing and panting. It made me think twice I can tell you.”
”Oh yes, I can imagine” agreed Marion, “so you came straight back?”
“Absolutely, I didn’t want to meet a wild animal, what if it had charged me? How would I explain that, being out and about in the all together”
“Quite” agreed Marion, and continued quickly “Well, I think I have to get back now as I’ve some work to be getting on with.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, before breezily telling Linda, not to bother to get dressed as she could see herself out.
“You won’t tell anyone will you?” Linda pleaded again.
“Oh no, my lips are sealed” replied Marion who had absolutely no intention of telling Brian his mating calls had been heard by their equally naked neighbour who had mistaken them both for a pair of pigs.
“Stay naked” called Linda hopefully as Marion left.
“I’ll think about it” she replied.
Sixteen
As soon as she closed her own front door behind her Marion peeled off her shirt and went for a sit down. After Linda’s revelations she felt she needed one. Once the shock of her close call had worn off Marion began to realise that Linda’s admission to night time nude jaunts was not the problem she had thought it was going to be. She could still continue her rambling and if she did bump into her friend in then she could claim that Linda had been her inspiration. Cheered by this thought Marion smiled and was about to start some work when the doorbell rang. Once more donning her emergency long shirt Marion opened the front door.
Every year the European cycle season stages a classic race called the Paris–Roubaix. It is known as The Hell of the North as it pitches the riders from smooth metalled surfaces onto rough cobbled tracks that jar both body and machine. Marion’s day seemed to be following just such a course, for standing on her front porch was the last person Marion wanted to see, ever.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Shaw”
She was a good head smaller than Marion, and casually dressed in a brief summer dress. She held out a pass with her photograph and the word PRESS in large red letters. Marion didn’t need to read the name, she recognised Julie Lewis by her curls. “My name is Julie Lewis; I’m a reporter for the Nelson Mercury”
Marion said nothing, she just stared, waiting for, and dreading the next line. When it came it was a pleasant surprise, “I wonder if you had any comment on your daughter’s protest in the mall down in Christchurch this morning”
“Well naturally I have to give her my support and I am very proud of her conviction and dedication for such an important cause. I’m sure we all share her concern for the environment, and if Isla’s actions have some effect then it will have all been worthwhile”
“So you are happy that pictures of your daughter’s naked body are in the public domain?”
“Well I do wish she had chosen a different way of getting her point across.”
“Did she inform you she would be making a nude protest?”
”Oh yes we knew.”
”What does her father think, is Mr Shaw at home?”
“No he is at work, but he also gives Isla his support”
“I have spoken to your husband before, Mrs Shaw, on the reports of the naked angel. Was that your daughter too?”
“Absolutely not” replied the true angel, “Isla was away at university at the time. Has that cook woken up yet?”
Marion winced, she asked that too quickly. Fortunately the reporter didn’t pick up on it.
“Yes, but he remembers nothing of the evening”
Relief flooded Marion’s body like summer returning to a frozen wasteland.
“Or so he says” Julie Lewis paused, and smiled before continuing in a more conciliatory manner. “Look, Mrs Shaw, I think we can help each other here”
Oh, how” she snapped. It was Julie’s turn to wince. Marion gave her a small smile; she was still on tenterhooks and had not meant to be so sharp.
“Well, you are going to have journalists from the national papers contacting you. I could head them off for you. If they knew we had an exclusive, they will use the Mercury as a feed.”
“I see” said Marion thoughtfully.
Encouraged by the slight thaw she continued “what I would like is an inside story of your daughter’s protest, a local angle for the paper”
“Well I don’t know, that would be up to Isla”
“Would you put it to her, after all she is doing this for the publicity, and all I’m offering is more.”
Marion thought about this, and although she viewed Julie Lewis as an enemy hunting her down, it’s usually a good ploy to keep the enemy where you can see them.
“Come in” she said, “let me contact my daughter”
Marion led Julie through the darkened hall into the kitchen. She gestured to a high chair next to the breakfast bar. Mindful of the fact she was not wearing any underwear, Marion remained standing as she enquired if her guest would like a drink.
“Oh, yes please, its baking today, your daughter picked the right time for her protest, I almost feel like joining her” She laughed nervously as Marion shot her a piercing look. There would be nothing she would like better than to see her persecutor laid bare
Isla was full of herself and quite prepared to talk to the journalist. Mainly because this was actually her first interview, all the other journalists and TV crews had swarmed like bees around the honey pot that was Susie. Marion listened in as Julie talked to her daughter.
“I’d like to publish a form of a diary”
“No just yours, you are the local girl”
“No, photographs will be head and shoulders only, but we might stretch our readers’ sensitivities to a bare bum or two.”
“If I could join you on a protest; that would be great”
She laughed nervously. “No, I don’t think I’m up to that”
“Committee meeting, well I suppose so, if they are closed, and everyone else is”
Good girl thought Marion, get her kit off.
“Tomorrow, Cathedral Square, at ten, I’ll be there”
Later as they sat in twilight’s last hot and sweaty gleaming on their patio, Brain and Marion discussed the day. They agreed it had gone better than it could have. Brian had received much sympathy at work, but to enable them to empathise with Brian’s despair everyone had to have a good look at Isla’s bare body. Julie Lewis had been good to her word; no other journalists had bothered them. After much thought, Marion had given Brian a heavily abridged account of Linda’s nudity. She kept it to the sunbathing only. Given the surprise on his face Marion could only imagine the effect the news of her wandering the neighbourhood would have on him. If Brian had found out Linda was out and about at the same time as they were last night Marion would have been called upon to make her second au natural emergency call.
“You mustn’t tell anyone about Linda” she admonished him earnestly as she eyed his big grin, “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.” Marion paused for effect “After all, how would you like it if I told her about you?”
It took five minutes and a glass of water to cure Brian’s coughing fit.
Fourteen
Brian had been living on his nerves all day. He had drunk at least five cups of coffee. The caffeine had left him agitated and unable to settle to his work. He stared at his computer screen, like an artist that had lost his muse, desperate for inspiration
“That’s the eighth time today” commented John as he left for the toilet.
The source of his worry wasn’t difficult to pin point. Firstly there was the previous night. At the time he was elated, running on adrenalin. Now in the cold light of day the magnitude of his folly gnawed at his guts like an acid. How could he have been so stupid? Running around the streets stark naked. Anyone could have been passing, coming home from the night shift, or a party. A police patrol could have come by. The list things that could have gone wrong was as endless as the Pacific and Brian could have spent all day worrying about it if he hadn’t another more pressing concern.
It was too late to hope that Isla would back out of her protest. The deed was done. A bight and breezy text message from Isla confirmed to Brian that his daughter’s bare body would soon be available to the whole world courtesy of the Internet. He was now waiting with all the fatality of a truant outside the headmaster’s office for her naked flesh to drop into John’s inbox. He had managed a snatched phone call with Marion, who didn’t seem the least worried, but given her hobby Brain could see why.
“At least she didn’t get arrested” his wife had told him.
“That’s not the point, Marion, pictures of her in the nude will be everywhere, everyone she ever meet from now will know precisely what’s under her dress ”
“You sound just like your mother.”
Brian slapped his hand on his forehead, “What the hell did you phone her for?” he demanded.
“I didn’t. Isla did”
The day was going from bad to worse. Brian was about to remonstrate further when Jan and John came back into the office.
“Got to go now” he said quickly and hung up.
Marion had been a trifle nonplussed by this, but a ring at the door stopped her pursuing that line of thought. She padded off towards the front door, just remembering to pull on a long shirt that came down to her knees before she opened it.
“Hi Marion, it’s only me” said Linda, stating the obvious, and without pausing for an invitation, stepped into the hall. “It’s so hot” she complained, I nearly went for a drive just to put the air con on”
Marion spotted an opening and went for it. “That would upset my daughter” Linda stopped, put her head on one side and gave Marion a quizzical look. This was the chance she had been hoping for. So without further preamble Marion explained Isla’s protest.
“So she was the naked angel” was Linda’s only comment.
“Couldn’t be” replied the real naked angel, “Isla was in college a the time, besides, you know there was nothing in that story”
Linda looked long and carefully at Marion and a sudden thought popped into her head.
“Marion can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course” she replied, expecting some question on the morality of Isla’s protest.
”What have you got on under that shirt”
Caught unawares Marion answered truthfully.
“Nothing,” before qualifying herself, “well er it’s so hot I er”
“I know” continued Linda, “I’m finding this weather unbearable, and let me let you into a little secret,” she leant forward confidentially, “I’ve actually been wandering around in the buff”
Marion was speechless. This was what she was supposed to say.
“Don’t say anything” continued Linda, “I know it’s not the done thing, but … it was so hot and something just came over me.” She looked at her friend and pouted “you don’t think any less of me do you?”
“Er no, not at all” said Marion who was thinking that Linda had stolen her clothes, in a manner of speaking.
“Have you ever thought of trying it?” Linda whispered
“I….I”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Linda leaned forward and took Marion’s hand. It felt warm and claddy as she pleaded “Just, please don’t tell anybody”
Marion, the real naked angel, pulled herself together and told her friend haltingly that she’d screw her courage to the sticking post and give it a go. Linda beamed in the knowledge that her secret would be safe. Marion smiled at her friend’s naivety. Her secret would be safe until Brian came home.
Marion was about to remove the shirt she had been wearing for all of ten minutes when Linda took charge.
“I’ve set up a secluded sunbathing area in the garden, why don’t you come over?”
Marion, paused, once again wrong footed by her friend. “Well, right, I’ll just get my phone in case there’s more developments on the Isla front.”
And so wearing just a long shirt and a pair of sandals Marion followed her friend out of the front door. Amazingly she felt exposed in her knickerless state. ‘Pull yourself together Marion’ she thought ‘the last time you went for a walk outside you were stark naked’
“Cold drink?” enquired Linda as she led the way into her voluminous kitchen.
“Yes please”
“Lemonade?”
“Perfect” replied Marion as she took the proffered glass.
Linda held hers and proffered a toast. “To us”
Marion responded. “To us”
Linda put her glass down and grabbed the hem of her short summer dress.
“Ready?”
Marion laid her glass on the cool, grey, marble work surface of Linda’s kitchen, crossed her arms and took a firm grip on her shirt.
“One, two, three go” shouted Linda. And then they both stood there staring at each other’s bare body for the first time. Marion’s eyes swept over her younger friend’s small breasts with the puffiest nipples she had ever seen, the stretch marks left by her two children on an otherwise perfectly flat stomach, her wide hips and an oddly rectangular patch of well trimmed pubic hair. She suddenly remembered her manners and whipped her eyes back up to meet Linda’s. She needn’t have worried for while Marion had been inspecting her friend’s birthday suit, Linda had been giving Marion the once over, and it was with perfect timing they both brought their gaze back to eye level. In unison both women broke into wide grins which dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Let’s go outside” Linda said picking up her glass and leading the way into the bright mid morning light.
“That’s the eighth time today” commented John as he left for the toilet.
The source of his worry wasn’t difficult to pin point. Firstly there was the previous night. At the time he was elated, running on adrenalin. Now in the cold light of day the magnitude of his folly gnawed at his guts like an acid. How could he have been so stupid? Running around the streets stark naked. Anyone could have been passing, coming home from the night shift, or a party. A police patrol could have come by. The list things that could have gone wrong was as endless as the Pacific and Brian could have spent all day worrying about it if he hadn’t another more pressing concern.
It was too late to hope that Isla would back out of her protest. The deed was done. A bight and breezy text message from Isla confirmed to Brian that his daughter’s bare body would soon be available to the whole world courtesy of the Internet. He was now waiting with all the fatality of a truant outside the headmaster’s office for her naked flesh to drop into John’s inbox. He had managed a snatched phone call with Marion, who didn’t seem the least worried, but given her hobby Brain could see why.
“At least she didn’t get arrested” his wife had told him.
“That’s not the point, Marion, pictures of her in the nude will be everywhere, everyone she ever meet from now will know precisely what’s under her dress ”
“You sound just like your mother.”
Brian slapped his hand on his forehead, “What the hell did you phone her for?” he demanded.
“I didn’t. Isla did”
The day was going from bad to worse. Brian was about to remonstrate further when Jan and John came back into the office.
“Got to go now” he said quickly and hung up.
Marion had been a trifle nonplussed by this, but a ring at the door stopped her pursuing that line of thought. She padded off towards the front door, just remembering to pull on a long shirt that came down to her knees before she opened it.
“Hi Marion, it’s only me” said Linda, stating the obvious, and without pausing for an invitation, stepped into the hall. “It’s so hot” she complained, I nearly went for a drive just to put the air con on”
Marion spotted an opening and went for it. “That would upset my daughter” Linda stopped, put her head on one side and gave Marion a quizzical look. This was the chance she had been hoping for. So without further preamble Marion explained Isla’s protest.
“So she was the naked angel” was Linda’s only comment.
“Couldn’t be” replied the real naked angel, “Isla was in college a the time, besides, you know there was nothing in that story”
Linda looked long and carefully at Marion and a sudden thought popped into her head.
“Marion can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course” she replied, expecting some question on the morality of Isla’s protest.
”What have you got on under that shirt”
Caught unawares Marion answered truthfully.
“Nothing,” before qualifying herself, “well er it’s so hot I er”
“I know” continued Linda, “I’m finding this weather unbearable, and let me let you into a little secret,” she leant forward confidentially, “I’ve actually been wandering around in the buff”
Marion was speechless. This was what she was supposed to say.
“Don’t say anything” continued Linda, “I know it’s not the done thing, but … it was so hot and something just came over me.” She looked at her friend and pouted “you don’t think any less of me do you?”
“Er no, not at all” said Marion who was thinking that Linda had stolen her clothes, in a manner of speaking.
“Have you ever thought of trying it?” Linda whispered
“I….I”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Linda leaned forward and took Marion’s hand. It felt warm and claddy as she pleaded “Just, please don’t tell anybody”
Marion, the real naked angel, pulled herself together and told her friend haltingly that she’d screw her courage to the sticking post and give it a go. Linda beamed in the knowledge that her secret would be safe. Marion smiled at her friend’s naivety. Her secret would be safe until Brian came home.
Marion was about to remove the shirt she had been wearing for all of ten minutes when Linda took charge.
“I’ve set up a secluded sunbathing area in the garden, why don’t you come over?”
Marion, paused, once again wrong footed by her friend. “Well, right, I’ll just get my phone in case there’s more developments on the Isla front.”
And so wearing just a long shirt and a pair of sandals Marion followed her friend out of the front door. Amazingly she felt exposed in her knickerless state. ‘Pull yourself together Marion’ she thought ‘the last time you went for a walk outside you were stark naked’
“Cold drink?” enquired Linda as she led the way into her voluminous kitchen.
“Yes please”
“Lemonade?”
“Perfect” replied Marion as she took the proffered glass.
Linda held hers and proffered a toast. “To us”
Marion responded. “To us”
Linda put her glass down and grabbed the hem of her short summer dress.
“Ready?”
Marion laid her glass on the cool, grey, marble work surface of Linda’s kitchen, crossed her arms and took a firm grip on her shirt.
“One, two, three go” shouted Linda. And then they both stood there staring at each other’s bare body for the first time. Marion’s eyes swept over her younger friend’s small breasts with the puffiest nipples she had ever seen, the stretch marks left by her two children on an otherwise perfectly flat stomach, her wide hips and an oddly rectangular patch of well trimmed pubic hair. She suddenly remembered her manners and whipped her eyes back up to meet Linda’s. She needn’t have worried for while Marion had been inspecting her friend’s birthday suit, Linda had been giving Marion the once over, and it was with perfect timing they both brought their gaze back to eye level. In unison both women broke into wide grins which dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Let’s go outside” Linda said picking up her glass and leading the way into the bright mid morning light.
Thursday, 11 February 2010
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.
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.
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