“Call us Bob and Greta” said the happy young couple sitting before me.
I was wondering where the camera was hidden. Greta was gorgeous with long black hair and a perfect face, her body oozed sexuality as she sat sensuously in the chair of my office, one hand on the knee of her all too handsome, reputed husband to be. When they had finished their pitch I sat quietly listening to the sounds of my office: the whirring fan blowing warm air, the tip tapping quietly on the keys of our secretary’s computer.
I picked up the phone and dialled Kathy’s number. Kathy was my business partner, no more no less. A very pretty, vivacious thirty year old with short dark hair. Incriminating evidence my wife’s eyes. Emma was very, very suspicious of Kathy
“Are you busy, Kathy” I asked “I need your advice on something”
Kathy bustled in. I introduced her to Greta and Bob.
“How may I help?” asked Kathy looking at me suspiciously.
“Greta and Bob have some special requirements for their special day”
I watched Kathy carefully as the couple told it all again.
“Well” started Greta “as we told your colleague we are both committed naturists”
Kathy didn’t show any flicker of emotion, nothing at all
“And so are our parents, and many of our friends and family” continued Bob
“So we want to have a naturist wedding” gushed Greta
There was no denying it; Kathy was a class act. She calmly wrote notes on a pad while the whole play was made. I scanned the room, where were the cameras? Greta had a large bag, perhaps there was one in there?
“Are you thinking of a naked reception or the service as well?” asked Kathy coolly.
“Oh the whole thing” replied Bob brightly
“Mm” said Kathy. She sucked on the end of her pencil as she pondered the problem.
“A venue may be tricky” she said after a while, “and I doubt that we could find a church or a vicar”
“Oh we’ve got a vicar,” said Greta helpfully “he’s a member of our club”
“Club?” queried Kathy
“Yes, as we told Peter, there is a vicar, who is member of our Naturist Club and he’ll be happy to perform the ceremony”
“I see” said Kathy serenely. We all paused while she wrote something on her pad. I snuck a look. The page was covered in intricate doodles. Despite appearing to write copious notes there were only four words on her pad
‘Are they for real?’ She saw me looking and caught my eye. I gave a small shrug and returned to Bob and Greta
“Perhaps a marquee at your naturist club” I suggested helpfully. “We could get a special licence for the wedding”
“Well, I suppose that’s a possibility” said Greta showing slight disappointment.
Kathy looked at me, I looked at her.
“Perhaps if we had some idea of how much you wanted to spend”
“Oh A class wedding” I said
Kathy had an obsessive personality and was permanently focussed on the business. Few things appeal to her as much as cold hard cash and she smelt the money on Greta and Bob. She started to glow with expectation, like a small child hearing the distant sound of bells on Christmas Eve. She turned to a new page in her notepad and started to write.
“Does your club have a large expanse of lawn?”
“What about toilet facilities?”
“Are there catering facilities”
“We can always bring such things in”
“But we need space”
When she got going Kathy oozed confidence and she was now trundling along at breakneck speed.
“We’ll need to see the facilities”
Now we were coming off the rails. I reached for the brakes.
“We’ll what?” I interrupted.
Kathy looked at me as if I was an insignificant insect.
“Of course we will” she said firmly
“There’s no problem with that” replied Greta “and don’t worry; you won’t have to take your clothes off. We can arrange a for a visit at a quiet time, you will be able to meet the secretary as well”
Well that reassured me not one little bit. This was a hoax
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Two
Home is an expensive detached property set in grounds that many small towns would dignify with the description of park. I left the car on the drive and let myself in quietly. Not quietly enough however.
“Is that you Steve?”
“Were you expecting anyone else?”
As usual Emma was dressed for the opera. As far as I was aware she wasn’t going anywhere but she wasn’t made for low maintenance.
“How was my little soldier’s day?” she asked giving me a kiss.
I wiped the lipstick from my face and told her.
When I reached the point of the tale where the words nudist colony were mentioned Emma went up through the gears.
“If you think you’re going anywhere in the nude with that little slut”
“For the hundredth millionth time” I shouted at her “there is nothing between me and Kathy. Not now, not ever, we just work together, period.”
She grabbed my tie and pulled me towards her. I felt her hot breath on my cheek.
“So you still love me hunnybuns?”
“Of course I do” I replied and kissed her hard.
“So you’re not going to the nudie club with her?” she said
“Well” I didn’t get any further as I was bent over double gasping for air. I find a well placed knee in the groin does that to me.
“I thought you said there was nothing between you” said Emma through gritted teeth.
“For God’s sake, Emma will you hear me out. This could be a big contract for us, so yes, we are going to the nudist colony, but Kathy and I get to stay dressed. You don’t think I’m going to wander around naked do you?”
“I don’t care about you wandering around naked” she replied. Her face changed from acute anger and jealousy. “In fact I wouldn’t mind that at all” she said wistfully. “It’s just her that bothers me”
I sighed.
“You can come with us if you like” I told her. “In fact you can go instead of me. You can be on candid camera”
“No that’s alright sweet pea I trust you” she replied
Kathy was driving. The sat nav was trying to find Sunnyfields Sun Club. It was lost.
“We’ve been here before” I said as we passed The Kings Arms
“Ask that woman there” Kathy told me
“No I am not. She’ll think we’re nudists”
“Oh for crying out loud” she exclaimed stopping the car. She got out, slamming the door for good effect, and approached a middle age woman who was weeding her front garden. After a few minutes gesticulation and pointing Kathy got back in.
“We’re nearly there” she said turning the car around. I looked out of the window at our new acquaintance. She was grinned at me and winked. I smiled weakly.
“That went well” I told her.
“Piece of cake” she replied.
She drove out of the village and took a left along a single track road. Within half a mile the road widened before ending at a high, solid gate. Either side was fenced by thick conifers which blocked the view. A discreet sign announced our arrival at the Sunnyfields Sun Club, and invited us the press the button next to the intercom. Kathy duly did as instructed, flashing a winning smile at the CCTV camera.
A geological era passed before a tinny disembodied voice emanated from the speaker
“Hello, can I help you”
“We have an appointment” said Kathy with a touch of query in her voice. “Kathy Woodall and Stephen Andrews, A1 Wedding Service”
“Ah yes, drive straight on to the car park at the end of the road. I’ll meet you there”
The gates slowly opened, Kathy put the car into gear and we eased into the unknown. I looked nervously out of the windows as Kathy drove us along the tree lined track. The club seemed to be one large wood. I was so busy looking for nudists amongst the trees that I missed the one in front of us. A large, bald headed man with a belly the size of Yorkshire stood pointing to a place in the car park.
“Oh my” exclaimed Kathy, “that’s large”
I don’t think she was referring to the size the car park, which was almost empty. What it lacked in quantity it made up for in quality. Kathy parked her small Toyota next to a very large Mercedes and an expensive sports car.
The naked man introduced himself as John Smith and claimed he was the club secretary. Suspicions grew in my mind again. Nobody is called John Smith.
“I hope you don’t mind” he said “I usually dress for visitors but you caught me on the hop”
“No not all” replied Kathy “It’s us who aren’t following the dress code”
“It’s a bit cold for me, although obviously not for you” I said.
Kathy shot me a murderous look as John led the way to his office.
“Please sit” he told us, “If you could just sign the visitors’ book. It is a quiet day so you won’t see many members today. ”
I winced, and then groaned as Kathy kicked me in the shin. We both signed and gave our business address.
“Don’t worry about bumping to anyone. Everyone’s been warned you are here so they know what to expect” said John, Greta and Bob are in the Club house. I’ll just tell them you are here”
He left us alone in his office.
“John Smith” I exclaimed to Kathy “it’s a set up; there are cameras in here somewhere.”
I looked around trying to spot them. It was just like any other office, computer, files on shelves, filing cabinets, in fact you would never have guessed you were in a nudist camp until you looked at the pictures on the wall. Pretty naked women on a beach. If I put some of them in my office I’d be strung from the rafters with a sign reading male chauvinist pig around my neck.
“It’s not a set up, Pete, I’ve checked them out” insisted Kathy, “They have a website, the secretary is called John Smith, I checked with the British Naturism Council, they are a bona fide nudist camp. I even found directions on the internet”
“So how come we got lost” I complained.
“Because you were navigating” she replied.
“Is that you Steve?”
“Were you expecting anyone else?”
As usual Emma was dressed for the opera. As far as I was aware she wasn’t going anywhere but she wasn’t made for low maintenance.
“How was my little soldier’s day?” she asked giving me a kiss.
I wiped the lipstick from my face and told her.
When I reached the point of the tale where the words nudist colony were mentioned Emma went up through the gears.
“If you think you’re going anywhere in the nude with that little slut”
“For the hundredth millionth time” I shouted at her “there is nothing between me and Kathy. Not now, not ever, we just work together, period.”
She grabbed my tie and pulled me towards her. I felt her hot breath on my cheek.
“So you still love me hunnybuns?”
“Of course I do” I replied and kissed her hard.
“So you’re not going to the nudie club with her?” she said
“Well” I didn’t get any further as I was bent over double gasping for air. I find a well placed knee in the groin does that to me.
“I thought you said there was nothing between you” said Emma through gritted teeth.
“For God’s sake, Emma will you hear me out. This could be a big contract for us, so yes, we are going to the nudist colony, but Kathy and I get to stay dressed. You don’t think I’m going to wander around naked do you?”
“I don’t care about you wandering around naked” she replied. Her face changed from acute anger and jealousy. “In fact I wouldn’t mind that at all” she said wistfully. “It’s just her that bothers me”
I sighed.
“You can come with us if you like” I told her. “In fact you can go instead of me. You can be on candid camera”
“No that’s alright sweet pea I trust you” she replied
Kathy was driving. The sat nav was trying to find Sunnyfields Sun Club. It was lost.
“We’ve been here before” I said as we passed The Kings Arms
“Ask that woman there” Kathy told me
“No I am not. She’ll think we’re nudists”
“Oh for crying out loud” she exclaimed stopping the car. She got out, slamming the door for good effect, and approached a middle age woman who was weeding her front garden. After a few minutes gesticulation and pointing Kathy got back in.
“We’re nearly there” she said turning the car around. I looked out of the window at our new acquaintance. She was grinned at me and winked. I smiled weakly.
“That went well” I told her.
“Piece of cake” she replied.
She drove out of the village and took a left along a single track road. Within half a mile the road widened before ending at a high, solid gate. Either side was fenced by thick conifers which blocked the view. A discreet sign announced our arrival at the Sunnyfields Sun Club, and invited us the press the button next to the intercom. Kathy duly did as instructed, flashing a winning smile at the CCTV camera.
A geological era passed before a tinny disembodied voice emanated from the speaker
“Hello, can I help you”
“We have an appointment” said Kathy with a touch of query in her voice. “Kathy Woodall and Stephen Andrews, A1 Wedding Service”
“Ah yes, drive straight on to the car park at the end of the road. I’ll meet you there”
The gates slowly opened, Kathy put the car into gear and we eased into the unknown. I looked nervously out of the windows as Kathy drove us along the tree lined track. The club seemed to be one large wood. I was so busy looking for nudists amongst the trees that I missed the one in front of us. A large, bald headed man with a belly the size of Yorkshire stood pointing to a place in the car park.
“Oh my” exclaimed Kathy, “that’s large”
I don’t think she was referring to the size the car park, which was almost empty. What it lacked in quantity it made up for in quality. Kathy parked her small Toyota next to a very large Mercedes and an expensive sports car.
The naked man introduced himself as John Smith and claimed he was the club secretary. Suspicions grew in my mind again. Nobody is called John Smith.
“I hope you don’t mind” he said “I usually dress for visitors but you caught me on the hop”
“No not all” replied Kathy “It’s us who aren’t following the dress code”
“It’s a bit cold for me, although obviously not for you” I said.
Kathy shot me a murderous look as John led the way to his office.
“Please sit” he told us, “If you could just sign the visitors’ book. It is a quiet day so you won’t see many members today. ”
I winced, and then groaned as Kathy kicked me in the shin. We both signed and gave our business address.
“Don’t worry about bumping to anyone. Everyone’s been warned you are here so they know what to expect” said John, Greta and Bob are in the Club house. I’ll just tell them you are here”
He left us alone in his office.
“John Smith” I exclaimed to Kathy “it’s a set up; there are cameras in here somewhere.”
I looked around trying to spot them. It was just like any other office, computer, files on shelves, filing cabinets, in fact you would never have guessed you were in a nudist camp until you looked at the pictures on the wall. Pretty naked women on a beach. If I put some of them in my office I’d be strung from the rafters with a sign reading male chauvinist pig around my neck.
“It’s not a set up, Pete, I’ve checked them out” insisted Kathy, “They have a website, the secretary is called John Smith, I checked with the British Naturism Council, they are a bona fide nudist camp. I even found directions on the internet”
“So how come we got lost” I complained.
“Because you were navigating” she replied.
Three
Kathy was driving. The sat nav was trying to find Sunnyfields Sun Club. It was lost.
“We’ve been here before” I said as we passed The Kings Arms
“Ask that woman there” Kathy told me
“No I am not. She’ll think we’re nudists”
“Oh for crying out loud” she exclaimed stopping the car. She got out, slamming the door for good effect, and approached a middle age woman who was weeding her front garden. After a few minutes gesticulation and pointing Kathy got back in.
“We’re nearly there” she said turning the car around. I looked out of the window at our new acquaintance. She was grinned at me and winked. I smiled weakly.
“That went well” I told her.
“Piece of cake” she replied.
She drove out of the village and took a left along a single track road. Within half a mile the road widened before ending at a high, solid gate. Either side was fenced by thick conifers which blocked the view. A discreet sign announced our arrival at the Sunnyfields Sun Club, and invited us the press the button next to the intercom. Kathy duly did as instructed, flashing a winning smile at the CCTV camera.
A geological era passed before a tinny disembodied voice emanated from the speaker
“Hello, can I help you”
“We have an appointment” said Kathy with a touch of query in her voice. “Kathy Woodall and Stephen Andrews, A1 Wedding Service”
“Ah yes, drive straight on to the car park at the end of the road. I’ll meet you there”
The gates slowly opened, Kathy put the car into gear and we eased into the unknown. I looked nervously out of the windows as Kathy drove us along the tree lined track. The club seemed to be one large wood. I was so busy looking for nudists amongst the trees that I missed the one in front of us. A large, bald headed man with a belly the size of Yorkshire stood pointing to a place in the car park.
“Oh my” exclaimed Kathy, “that’s large”
I don’t think she was referring to the size the car park, which was almost empty. What it lacked in quantity it made up for in quality. Kathy parked her small Toyota next to a very large Mercedes and an expensive sports car.
The naked man introduced himself as John Smith and claimed he was the club secretary. Suspicions grew in my mind again. Nobody is called John Smith.
“I hope you don’t mind” he said “I usually dress for visitors but you caught me on the hop”
“No not all” replied Kathy “It’s us who aren’t following the dress code”
“It’s a bit cold for me, although obviously not for you” I said.
Kathy shot me a murderous look as John led the way to his office.
“Please sit” he told us, “If you could just sign the visitors’ book. It is a quiet day so you won’t see many members today. ”
I winced, and then groaned as Kathy kicked me in the shin. We both signed and gave our business address.
“Don’t worry about bumping to anyone. Everyone’s been warned you are here so they know what to expect” said John, Greta and Bob are in the Club house. I’ll just tell them you are here”
He left us alone in his office.
“John Smith” I exclaimed to Kathy “it’s a set up; there are cameras in here somewhere.”
I looked around trying to spot them. It was just like any other office, computer, files on shelves, filing cabinets, in fact you would never have guessed you were in a nudist camp until you looked at the pictures on the wall. Pretty naked women on a beach. If I put some of them in my office I’d be strung from the rafters with a sign reading male chauvinist pig around my neck.
“It’s not a set up, Pete, I’ve checked them out” insisted Kathy, “They have a website, the secretary is called John Smith, I checked with the British Naturism Council, they are a bona fide nudist camp. I even found directions on the internet”
“So how come we got lost” I complained.
“Because you were navigating” she replied.
“We’ve been here before” I said as we passed The Kings Arms
“Ask that woman there” Kathy told me
“No I am not. She’ll think we’re nudists”
“Oh for crying out loud” she exclaimed stopping the car. She got out, slamming the door for good effect, and approached a middle age woman who was weeding her front garden. After a few minutes gesticulation and pointing Kathy got back in.
“We’re nearly there” she said turning the car around. I looked out of the window at our new acquaintance. She was grinned at me and winked. I smiled weakly.
“That went well” I told her.
“Piece of cake” she replied.
She drove out of the village and took a left along a single track road. Within half a mile the road widened before ending at a high, solid gate. Either side was fenced by thick conifers which blocked the view. A discreet sign announced our arrival at the Sunnyfields Sun Club, and invited us the press the button next to the intercom. Kathy duly did as instructed, flashing a winning smile at the CCTV camera.
A geological era passed before a tinny disembodied voice emanated from the speaker
“Hello, can I help you”
“We have an appointment” said Kathy with a touch of query in her voice. “Kathy Woodall and Stephen Andrews, A1 Wedding Service”
“Ah yes, drive straight on to the car park at the end of the road. I’ll meet you there”
The gates slowly opened, Kathy put the car into gear and we eased into the unknown. I looked nervously out of the windows as Kathy drove us along the tree lined track. The club seemed to be one large wood. I was so busy looking for nudists amongst the trees that I missed the one in front of us. A large, bald headed man with a belly the size of Yorkshire stood pointing to a place in the car park.
“Oh my” exclaimed Kathy, “that’s large”
I don’t think she was referring to the size the car park, which was almost empty. What it lacked in quantity it made up for in quality. Kathy parked her small Toyota next to a very large Mercedes and an expensive sports car.
The naked man introduced himself as John Smith and claimed he was the club secretary. Suspicions grew in my mind again. Nobody is called John Smith.
“I hope you don’t mind” he said “I usually dress for visitors but you caught me on the hop”
“No not all” replied Kathy “It’s us who aren’t following the dress code”
“It’s a bit cold for me, although obviously not for you” I said.
Kathy shot me a murderous look as John led the way to his office.
“Please sit” he told us, “If you could just sign the visitors’ book. It is a quiet day so you won’t see many members today. ”
I winced, and then groaned as Kathy kicked me in the shin. We both signed and gave our business address.
“Don’t worry about bumping to anyone. Everyone’s been warned you are here so they know what to expect” said John, Greta and Bob are in the Club house. I’ll just tell them you are here”
He left us alone in his office.
“John Smith” I exclaimed to Kathy “it’s a set up; there are cameras in here somewhere.”
I looked around trying to spot them. It was just like any other office, computer, files on shelves, filing cabinets, in fact you would never have guessed you were in a nudist camp until you looked at the pictures on the wall. Pretty naked women on a beach. If I put some of them in my office I’d be strung from the rafters with a sign reading male chauvinist pig around my neck.
“It’s not a set up, Pete, I’ve checked them out” insisted Kathy, “They have a website, the secretary is called John Smith, I checked with the British Naturism Council, they are a bona fide nudist camp. I even found directions on the internet”
“So how come we got lost” I complained.
“Because you were navigating” she replied.
Four
The door opened and John was back. Behind him stood Greta and Bob, who were also stark naked. Perhaps Kathy was right. The clothed Greta and Bob had looked far too perfect in my office. Unclothed Bob looked the part, bulging pecs, a nice firm six pack: but standing next to fat John he was clearly at a disadvantage in one respect. Greta was the perfect advertisement for a push up bra, if only the before pictures were as acceptable on advertising hoardings as the after shots.
We stood to greet them and for the first time in my life I shook hands with a naked woman. I had a horrible feeling that it wouldn’t be the last.
“You made it then” said Greta
Name, Greta Hunter; mastermind subject, the bleeding obvious.
“No problems, we had to ask for directions in the village, but smooth and easy.”
“And what were your fist impressions?” asked Bob
“Well it’s a bit of a shock at first” said Kathy “but I’m getting used to it”
Now it was my turn to shoot her a look. What exactly did that mean?
“Come, let us show you the facilities. We’ll start with the changing rooms”
“Excellent” said Kathy with far too much enthusiasm for my liking.
The changing rooms reminded me of a public swimming pool, functional benches, tiled floors, showers and steel lockers for your clothes, all of your clothes. One difference. There were no separate changing rooms for male and female. If you’re going to spend your day together in the altogether, I suppose there was no need.
“So you keep your clothes in one of these lockers?” asked Kathy
“The keys have rubber bands on them so you can wear them around your wrist” said Greta helpfully. Because she was stupid she pointed to her ankle. I had been keeping eye contact desperately for the past five minutes but following her invitation my eyes dropped down her body, taking her tiny breasts, a pink gash hiding behind curly jet black hair, long thin legs and a bright pink elastic strap to which was attached a key.
“Shall we look at the kitchens” I said quickly, before Kathy did anything rash.
“Ok” said John “this way”
We followed him out of the changing rooms past an outdoor swimming pool and into the small bar. Far too small for a wedding. The kitchen was for basic pub grub. A deep pan fryer, (I should have guessed seeing the size of John’s belly), a couple of microwaves and a grill. We’d have to bring in a mobile kitchen if we were to hold the wedding here.
“Would you like to see the function room?” asked John, who seemed under no illusions of the inadequacy of the venue. To be fair to him the place wasn’t built for weddings, I was sure it was perfectly equipped as a nudist camp, but for what Bob and Greta had in mind only a country estate would do.
The ‘function room’ was a large conservatory, it reminded me of a tea room in a garden centre; it was filled with easy chairs and low tables with potted tropical plants to give it that tropical feel. All it needed was a coach load of pensioners on a trip from Dewsbury. At the far end was an open door through which a small part of an indoor pool glowed as blue as a tropical lagoon. The sound of splashing water echoed from the walls and squeezed itself through the door. This was clearly where most of the nudists were. The tea room was deserted except for one table where two women sat deep in conversation.
To my horror, Greta made a bee line straight to them.
“Kathy and Pete,” she announced “I would like you to meet my mother”
A tall slim grey haired woman stood to greet us. Despite the lack of any exquisite, expensive clothing she oozed money; I was looking at the naked owner of the Mercedes in the car park.
“I’m Sally, Greta’s mother” she said pumping my hand. She turned to Kathy “you must be the wedding organisers”
“Pleased to meet you, Sally” replied Kathy
First name terms with the mother of the bride, not a common occurrence when you first meet, we usually start formally and then, later, when we have gained mutual trust move onto a more familiar relationship. Even so I have never, ever got familiar enough to see any of my clients naked.
“This is Yvonne who is our club president”
A large mountain of flesh stood and shook hands with us as Bob and Greta sat on two comfortable wicker chairs which they had previously bagged using the familiar Teutonic ruse of placing a beach towel on them. This puzzled me as the room was as empty as a run down seaside resort on a wet Wednesday afternoon in December.
We sat and Yvonne, whose fat was still rippling from the effort of lowering herself into a straining wicker chair, addressed us.
“How do you like our club?”
“Well” began Kathy, “it’s very well equipped and not what I was expecting at all.”
“Yes the days of Carry on Camping are well gone” she replied.
“How many members do you have?” asked Kathy, who was showing far too much interest for my liking
“We have about fifty residents and around two hundred day members. On a warm day we can be quite crowded.”
It was crowded enough for me already!
“We’re always on the lookout for more members though” Yvonne added, looking pointedly at us.
“Really” said Kathy thoughtfully.
I decided to change the subject.
“We could certainly use the facilities you have, but they are not really big enough for the type event that Greta and Bob have in mind.” I said diplomatically.
“Oh I appreciate that fully” said Yvonne
“Perhaps a marquee?” suggested Greta hopefully.
“We’d need a fairly large open expanse: and not the car park” continued Kathy who was finally remembering why we were here.
“Well there is the field” suggested Bob.
“Perhaps we could see” I suggested.
Bob and Greta stood.
“I’ll come with you” said Greta’s mother.
Kathy and I stood, and thanked Yvonne for taking the time to talk to us.
“Perhaps we might see you again some time? Why not come and see what we have to offer?”
I’d already seen it thanks; all of it; and it wasn’t pretty.
“You know, I might just do that” replied Kathy. I hoped she was just being polite
“You too, Pete” said Yvonne
“What, me, er my wife she’d never….”
“Have a talk to her, you never know, she may surprise you”
“If you knew my wife you wouldn’t have said that” I replied with more confidence.
Emma’s parting comments to me this morning were still echoing in my mind.
“You keep your dirty little eyes off those naked women, romping around all suggestively, all their bits bouncing around for everyone to see, and if I hear if that bitch Kathy has been flaunting herself you will be joining the John Wayne Bobbit club” she told me before giving me a kiss and telling me to have a nice day.
Greta, Bob, and Sally were standing by the door.
“We’ll wait here while you get your coats” I said.
It was early April. Outside the countryside was just coming to life. Spring flowers bloomed in the grounds and there was just a faint hint of pale green on the hawthorn. On an idyllic day a beaming sun would be bathing the grounds in silver light. This wasn’t such a day. This was a grey day with featureless clouds and a chilly breeze that whipped the heads of the golden daffodils in the concrete pots beyond the double glazing.
“We’re nudists” said Sally, “we don’t wear clothes if we don’t have to.”
“Cold is a state of mind” stated Bob, “this is mild weather for us”
The only bares suited to this weather were polar bears, but if they wanted to go out in the buff that was fine by me.
Outside the wind whistled around me and I tightened up my coat. Sally and Greta tightened up their nipples, which had a state of mind of their own when it came to cold. Poor old Bob who was already more than a little challenged on size just wilted in the chilly breeze.
“This way” said Greta and she led us along a smooth paved path through the trees. Bob and Kathy followed.
Sally turned to me “It’s not far” she turned to the path, her stiff nipples pointing the way like a mad compass.
“I suppose this must be the most unusual request you have had?” she asked as we walked along the path. I was watching Kathy ahead of me; her covered posterior book-ended by Bob’s well defined hairy bottom and the fairly flat rear end of his fiancée. I wondered how Kathy’s bare behind would compare.
“Well, I think it might be, although we do specialise in let’s say unusual weddings. We’ve done Pirates of the Caribbean, a hockey club wedding where everyone wore the club kit and there was a guard of honour with their sticks, and one where we all dressed up in circus outfits”
“You dress the part as well?”
“Usually, but not all the time” I replied swiftly. Not this time oh no, no, no.
“I have to admit” continued Sally, confident that the three ahead of us were out of earshot, “this is not what I had wanted for Greta”
Now we were getting to the nub of the matter.
“I had hoped for a normal white wedding, just like her sister’s, but Greta and Bob are such committed naturists. Don’t get me wrong I’m not ashamed of being a nudist as you can see” She turned to me and smiled. Yes I could see very well, from the top of her grey head, via a small pair of breasts, passing swiftly over a grey beaver to her painted toenails.
“I’m so proud that Greta has remained a naturist. You see most children give up when they reach their teens, but Greta hung on in there; unlike her sister. I don’t even mind the idea of a nude wedding, I just don’t wasn’t to have it in a big tent here.”
“I have to be honest with you, Sally,” I said “what we’ve seen so far is not up to catering for the type of event you have in mind. We have done several weddings in a marquee and they can quite tasteful”
We had now just about caught up with the others who had stopped on the edge of a large expanse of open grassland.
“We thought we could have a large marquee here” said Greta
I looked at Kathy and she looked at me. We were both thinking the same thing. It was perfect, except for one tiny detail. The field was on a slope, and everyone knows you can’t put your tent up on a hill.
“If we could see the rest of the site” suggested Kathy diplomatically “and then we can discuss the possibilities in the warm”
And so we toured the nudist colony. Passing the tidy wooden chalets, with their small gardens bursting with spring colours, a tiny personal Eden each tended by their own Adam. I looked for an apple tree, but there were none and my thoughts wandered as Greta chatted on. Were Kathy and I serpents in the grass? Two middle aged naked men played a lonely game of tennis on the newly laid outdoor courts. Bob shouted a hearty greeting between points. I watched carefully, still a slight suspicion in my mind that this all a hoax. They seemed to know each other well; would anyone go to such lengths to separate me from my clothes?
We took it all in, the long thin stretch of the caravan park where a few hardy souls were already taking the air. One couple waved at Sally, who told them she’d come and visit later. The empty outdoor pool where wind whipped tiny ripples raced across the dull surface stood a stone’s throw away from the tea room where our tour had started.
At last we were back in the warm. I watched as Greta’s nipples as they fell and idly wondered if they could be used as a thermometer.
“I’ll get some tea, will you help me please Greta” said Sally in a tone of voice that indicated she wished to speak to her daughter alone.
“So what did you think?” asked Bob, as leant back in his chair, seemingly oblivious to the view he was presenting to us. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, he was probably still a little cold. Before I could speak Kathy jumped in.
“It’s quite an eye opener” she said. I tried not to grin.
“It would be good to see the club on a better day” she continued, I shot her a glance, this wasn’t funny, “maybe try a few activities”
“Well we could arrange that; no problem” continued Bob.
“This seems like a nice place to relax, away from all the stress” said Kathy a little too enthusiastically for my liking. I hoped this was just small talk, but just in case she was serious I kept very quiet.
While I contemplated Kathy’s interest in nudism, I watched Greta and her mother at the counter collecting the teas. They clearly were mother and daughter; they shared the same thin nose with narrow eyes. When they smiled was the same thin lips curled upwards and their cheekbones pushed out accentuating their shield shaped faces. There were other similarities which, never having met a nudist family before…… I stopped myself, I may well have met hundreds of naturists, they just hadn’t owned up to it. Sally had been blessed with larger breasts than her daughter, or maybe they grew bigger with age. With no experience of naked older women I could only speculate, both Greta and her mother had the same well defined nipples, not too big, not too small, surrounded by a nice circle of pink that was a shade darker than their skin. Would any television company trying to hoax us out of our clothes go to such lengths as finding a real mother and daughter? Perhaps it was a family run firm? My doubts were still there.
“Tea all round” announced Greta whose pubic region was about six inches from my face. I glimpsed the entrance to her vagina nestling inside her dark pubic hair. I wondered that was an inherited trait too. I daren’t look.
“Thanks” I said, and then said one of the most stupid things anyone could say in a nudist camp “It’s hot in here, does anyone mind if I take my jacket off” I could have banged my head on the table, I had just redefined the term moron.
“You can take as much off as you like” said Greta with a smile. “In fact you’d be less noticeable if you wore nothing”
I grinned weakly, removed my jacket and loosened my tie. Kathy removed her jacket and began to unbutton her blouse. ‘No’, my mind screamed ‘don’t!’ This was the first time that I have ever, ever objected to a woman taking her clothes off. Kathy smiled at me and stopped at two buttons. I was relieved.
“Right” said Sally to business, “you appraisal please”
“Ok,” I began “the site is unsuitable for a marquee, the only open space large enough has a slope. This facility is suitable for a small intimate event, bride, groom immediate family only”
Greta and Bob were crestfallen, while Sally took the good news serenely.
“So what are the options” asked Sally.
Kathy took over “Here, as Pete said we are limited by size, beyond the bounds of the club, we are restricted by your desire for a naked wedding. Large hotels with function rooms cannot provide the privacy that you require. I have contacted some venues we have used but they are, shall we say reluctant, to hold a naturist wedding”
“Then we’ll have the small event here” replied Greta
Sally clearly disapproved, but was clearly also not prepared to have a row in public.
“There is just one place perhaps” said Kathy. If there was it was one I hadn’t heard of.
“The owner has been away. He returns tomorrow. Do you want me to check it out and I’ll get back to you”
“Yes please” said Greta clutching at straws
We stood to greet them and for the first time in my life I shook hands with a naked woman. I had a horrible feeling that it wouldn’t be the last.
“You made it then” said Greta
Name, Greta Hunter; mastermind subject, the bleeding obvious.
“No problems, we had to ask for directions in the village, but smooth and easy.”
“And what were your fist impressions?” asked Bob
“Well it’s a bit of a shock at first” said Kathy “but I’m getting used to it”
Now it was my turn to shoot her a look. What exactly did that mean?
“Come, let us show you the facilities. We’ll start with the changing rooms”
“Excellent” said Kathy with far too much enthusiasm for my liking.
The changing rooms reminded me of a public swimming pool, functional benches, tiled floors, showers and steel lockers for your clothes, all of your clothes. One difference. There were no separate changing rooms for male and female. If you’re going to spend your day together in the altogether, I suppose there was no need.
“So you keep your clothes in one of these lockers?” asked Kathy
“The keys have rubber bands on them so you can wear them around your wrist” said Greta helpfully. Because she was stupid she pointed to her ankle. I had been keeping eye contact desperately for the past five minutes but following her invitation my eyes dropped down her body, taking her tiny breasts, a pink gash hiding behind curly jet black hair, long thin legs and a bright pink elastic strap to which was attached a key.
“Shall we look at the kitchens” I said quickly, before Kathy did anything rash.
“Ok” said John “this way”
We followed him out of the changing rooms past an outdoor swimming pool and into the small bar. Far too small for a wedding. The kitchen was for basic pub grub. A deep pan fryer, (I should have guessed seeing the size of John’s belly), a couple of microwaves and a grill. We’d have to bring in a mobile kitchen if we were to hold the wedding here.
“Would you like to see the function room?” asked John, who seemed under no illusions of the inadequacy of the venue. To be fair to him the place wasn’t built for weddings, I was sure it was perfectly equipped as a nudist camp, but for what Bob and Greta had in mind only a country estate would do.
The ‘function room’ was a large conservatory, it reminded me of a tea room in a garden centre; it was filled with easy chairs and low tables with potted tropical plants to give it that tropical feel. All it needed was a coach load of pensioners on a trip from Dewsbury. At the far end was an open door through which a small part of an indoor pool glowed as blue as a tropical lagoon. The sound of splashing water echoed from the walls and squeezed itself through the door. This was clearly where most of the nudists were. The tea room was deserted except for one table where two women sat deep in conversation.
To my horror, Greta made a bee line straight to them.
“Kathy and Pete,” she announced “I would like you to meet my mother”
A tall slim grey haired woman stood to greet us. Despite the lack of any exquisite, expensive clothing she oozed money; I was looking at the naked owner of the Mercedes in the car park.
“I’m Sally, Greta’s mother” she said pumping my hand. She turned to Kathy “you must be the wedding organisers”
“Pleased to meet you, Sally” replied Kathy
First name terms with the mother of the bride, not a common occurrence when you first meet, we usually start formally and then, later, when we have gained mutual trust move onto a more familiar relationship. Even so I have never, ever got familiar enough to see any of my clients naked.
“This is Yvonne who is our club president”
A large mountain of flesh stood and shook hands with us as Bob and Greta sat on two comfortable wicker chairs which they had previously bagged using the familiar Teutonic ruse of placing a beach towel on them. This puzzled me as the room was as empty as a run down seaside resort on a wet Wednesday afternoon in December.
We sat and Yvonne, whose fat was still rippling from the effort of lowering herself into a straining wicker chair, addressed us.
“How do you like our club?”
“Well” began Kathy, “it’s very well equipped and not what I was expecting at all.”
“Yes the days of Carry on Camping are well gone” she replied.
“How many members do you have?” asked Kathy, who was showing far too much interest for my liking
“We have about fifty residents and around two hundred day members. On a warm day we can be quite crowded.”
It was crowded enough for me already!
“We’re always on the lookout for more members though” Yvonne added, looking pointedly at us.
“Really” said Kathy thoughtfully.
I decided to change the subject.
“We could certainly use the facilities you have, but they are not really big enough for the type event that Greta and Bob have in mind.” I said diplomatically.
“Oh I appreciate that fully” said Yvonne
“Perhaps a marquee?” suggested Greta hopefully.
“We’d need a fairly large open expanse: and not the car park” continued Kathy who was finally remembering why we were here.
“Well there is the field” suggested Bob.
“Perhaps we could see” I suggested.
Bob and Greta stood.
“I’ll come with you” said Greta’s mother.
Kathy and I stood, and thanked Yvonne for taking the time to talk to us.
“Perhaps we might see you again some time? Why not come and see what we have to offer?”
I’d already seen it thanks; all of it; and it wasn’t pretty.
“You know, I might just do that” replied Kathy. I hoped she was just being polite
“You too, Pete” said Yvonne
“What, me, er my wife she’d never….”
“Have a talk to her, you never know, she may surprise you”
“If you knew my wife you wouldn’t have said that” I replied with more confidence.
Emma’s parting comments to me this morning were still echoing in my mind.
“You keep your dirty little eyes off those naked women, romping around all suggestively, all their bits bouncing around for everyone to see, and if I hear if that bitch Kathy has been flaunting herself you will be joining the John Wayne Bobbit club” she told me before giving me a kiss and telling me to have a nice day.
Greta, Bob, and Sally were standing by the door.
“We’ll wait here while you get your coats” I said.
It was early April. Outside the countryside was just coming to life. Spring flowers bloomed in the grounds and there was just a faint hint of pale green on the hawthorn. On an idyllic day a beaming sun would be bathing the grounds in silver light. This wasn’t such a day. This was a grey day with featureless clouds and a chilly breeze that whipped the heads of the golden daffodils in the concrete pots beyond the double glazing.
“We’re nudists” said Sally, “we don’t wear clothes if we don’t have to.”
“Cold is a state of mind” stated Bob, “this is mild weather for us”
The only bares suited to this weather were polar bears, but if they wanted to go out in the buff that was fine by me.
Outside the wind whistled around me and I tightened up my coat. Sally and Greta tightened up their nipples, which had a state of mind of their own when it came to cold. Poor old Bob who was already more than a little challenged on size just wilted in the chilly breeze.
“This way” said Greta and she led us along a smooth paved path through the trees. Bob and Kathy followed.
Sally turned to me “It’s not far” she turned to the path, her stiff nipples pointing the way like a mad compass.
“I suppose this must be the most unusual request you have had?” she asked as we walked along the path. I was watching Kathy ahead of me; her covered posterior book-ended by Bob’s well defined hairy bottom and the fairly flat rear end of his fiancée. I wondered how Kathy’s bare behind would compare.
“Well, I think it might be, although we do specialise in let’s say unusual weddings. We’ve done Pirates of the Caribbean, a hockey club wedding where everyone wore the club kit and there was a guard of honour with their sticks, and one where we all dressed up in circus outfits”
“You dress the part as well?”
“Usually, but not all the time” I replied swiftly. Not this time oh no, no, no.
“I have to admit” continued Sally, confident that the three ahead of us were out of earshot, “this is not what I had wanted for Greta”
Now we were getting to the nub of the matter.
“I had hoped for a normal white wedding, just like her sister’s, but Greta and Bob are such committed naturists. Don’t get me wrong I’m not ashamed of being a nudist as you can see” She turned to me and smiled. Yes I could see very well, from the top of her grey head, via a small pair of breasts, passing swiftly over a grey beaver to her painted toenails.
“I’m so proud that Greta has remained a naturist. You see most children give up when they reach their teens, but Greta hung on in there; unlike her sister. I don’t even mind the idea of a nude wedding, I just don’t wasn’t to have it in a big tent here.”
“I have to be honest with you, Sally,” I said “what we’ve seen so far is not up to catering for the type of event you have in mind. We have done several weddings in a marquee and they can quite tasteful”
We had now just about caught up with the others who had stopped on the edge of a large expanse of open grassland.
“We thought we could have a large marquee here” said Greta
I looked at Kathy and she looked at me. We were both thinking the same thing. It was perfect, except for one tiny detail. The field was on a slope, and everyone knows you can’t put your tent up on a hill.
“If we could see the rest of the site” suggested Kathy diplomatically “and then we can discuss the possibilities in the warm”
And so we toured the nudist colony. Passing the tidy wooden chalets, with their small gardens bursting with spring colours, a tiny personal Eden each tended by their own Adam. I looked for an apple tree, but there were none and my thoughts wandered as Greta chatted on. Were Kathy and I serpents in the grass? Two middle aged naked men played a lonely game of tennis on the newly laid outdoor courts. Bob shouted a hearty greeting between points. I watched carefully, still a slight suspicion in my mind that this all a hoax. They seemed to know each other well; would anyone go to such lengths to separate me from my clothes?
We took it all in, the long thin stretch of the caravan park where a few hardy souls were already taking the air. One couple waved at Sally, who told them she’d come and visit later. The empty outdoor pool where wind whipped tiny ripples raced across the dull surface stood a stone’s throw away from the tea room where our tour had started.
At last we were back in the warm. I watched as Greta’s nipples as they fell and idly wondered if they could be used as a thermometer.
“I’ll get some tea, will you help me please Greta” said Sally in a tone of voice that indicated she wished to speak to her daughter alone.
“So what did you think?” asked Bob, as leant back in his chair, seemingly oblivious to the view he was presenting to us. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, he was probably still a little cold. Before I could speak Kathy jumped in.
“It’s quite an eye opener” she said. I tried not to grin.
“It would be good to see the club on a better day” she continued, I shot her a glance, this wasn’t funny, “maybe try a few activities”
“Well we could arrange that; no problem” continued Bob.
“This seems like a nice place to relax, away from all the stress” said Kathy a little too enthusiastically for my liking. I hoped this was just small talk, but just in case she was serious I kept very quiet.
While I contemplated Kathy’s interest in nudism, I watched Greta and her mother at the counter collecting the teas. They clearly were mother and daughter; they shared the same thin nose with narrow eyes. When they smiled was the same thin lips curled upwards and their cheekbones pushed out accentuating their shield shaped faces. There were other similarities which, never having met a nudist family before…… I stopped myself, I may well have met hundreds of naturists, they just hadn’t owned up to it. Sally had been blessed with larger breasts than her daughter, or maybe they grew bigger with age. With no experience of naked older women I could only speculate, both Greta and her mother had the same well defined nipples, not too big, not too small, surrounded by a nice circle of pink that was a shade darker than their skin. Would any television company trying to hoax us out of our clothes go to such lengths as finding a real mother and daughter? Perhaps it was a family run firm? My doubts were still there.
“Tea all round” announced Greta whose pubic region was about six inches from my face. I glimpsed the entrance to her vagina nestling inside her dark pubic hair. I wondered that was an inherited trait too. I daren’t look.
“Thanks” I said, and then said one of the most stupid things anyone could say in a nudist camp “It’s hot in here, does anyone mind if I take my jacket off” I could have banged my head on the table, I had just redefined the term moron.
“You can take as much off as you like” said Greta with a smile. “In fact you’d be less noticeable if you wore nothing”
I grinned weakly, removed my jacket and loosened my tie. Kathy removed her jacket and began to unbutton her blouse. ‘No’, my mind screamed ‘don’t!’ This was the first time that I have ever, ever objected to a woman taking her clothes off. Kathy smiled at me and stopped at two buttons. I was relieved.
“Right” said Sally to business, “you appraisal please”
“Ok,” I began “the site is unsuitable for a marquee, the only open space large enough has a slope. This facility is suitable for a small intimate event, bride, groom immediate family only”
Greta and Bob were crestfallen, while Sally took the good news serenely.
“So what are the options” asked Sally.
Kathy took over “Here, as Pete said we are limited by size, beyond the bounds of the club, we are restricted by your desire for a naked wedding. Large hotels with function rooms cannot provide the privacy that you require. I have contacted some venues we have used but they are, shall we say reluctant, to hold a naturist wedding”
“Then we’ll have the small event here” replied Greta
Sally clearly disapproved, but was clearly also not prepared to have a row in public.
“There is just one place perhaps” said Kathy. If there was it was one I hadn’t heard of.
“The owner has been away. He returns tomorrow. Do you want me to check it out and I’ll get back to you”
“Yes please” said Greta clutching at straws
Five
“Bloody hell, Kathy” I complained as we were driving back, “I thought you were going to take your clothes at one point”
She smiled enigmatically “Just buttering up the customers, Pete”
“Where do you have in mind?” I asked
“Cottlestone Hall” she replied
It was perfect I had to admit, out in the country, away from prying eyes with a small chapel built on the side.
“Giles will never let you hold a nudist wedding there.”
“He will if he thinks he’ll get to see me naked”
True, I thought, Giles lusted dearly after our Kathy.
“You think he’ll believe you?”
“About the naturist wedding?”
“No, that he’ll get to see you in the buff?”
“Well we always like to take a full part, don’t we? Remember the clown outfits?”
“Kathy,” I said firmly, “we’re not dressing up for this one”
“Don’t worry” she replied, “I won’t be wearing a costume this time”
What was that supposed to mean?
She smiled enigmatically “Just buttering up the customers, Pete”
“Where do you have in mind?” I asked
“Cottlestone Hall” she replied
It was perfect I had to admit, out in the country, away from prying eyes with a small chapel built on the side.
“Giles will never let you hold a nudist wedding there.”
“He will if he thinks he’ll get to see me naked”
True, I thought, Giles lusted dearly after our Kathy.
“You think he’ll believe you?”
“About the naturist wedding?”
“No, that he’ll get to see you in the buff?”
“Well we always like to take a full part, don’t we? Remember the clown outfits?”
“Kathy,” I said firmly, “we’re not dressing up for this one”
“Don’t worry” she replied, “I won’t be wearing a costume this time”
What was that supposed to mean?
Five (cont)
During our dinner au natural, Emma grilled me on the nudist camp.
What was it like, where there many nudists, what were the women like, could we stage the wedding there?
When I told her it was unsuitable and Kathy’s idea Emma paused thoughtfully.
“Cottlestone Hall is perfect. It does rather depend on Giles, but he might go for it.”
Then she looked straight at me “You do know Kathy will go naked if she has to, don’t you”
I sighed; I’d known Kathy for too long now to be under any allusion she wouldn’t strip off for this contract. To her, parading around in the buff would be a small price to pay for the money.
“I think this is one deal I’ll just leave to her” I told Emma as I started to collect up the dirty dishes.
“Good boy” she told me and left me alone with the chores.
Washing up in the nude was a trifle strange, but at least I could wash the splashes straight off my skin. When I had finished I closed the door and tip toed towards the lounge. I peeked through a crack in the door. Emma was lounging on the settee in front of the television. I can’t say it was a programme I wanted to watch but it is not everyday that I get the chance to sit around with my naked wife, and I could always watch her bare body if the TV was dull.
I lowered myself carefully in a chair, feeling the fabric against my bare skin. Emma sat upright and crossed her long legs.
“I think, Peter you had better support Kathy in this enterprise”
I looked at her suspiciously. If she thought Kathy was going to be naked, in view of her usual antipathy….
“Fully support her” she continued
“You don’t mean….” I looked down at my body; I noticed my penis was behaving itself well, just like a proper nudist’s would.
“Yes, it’s all got to come off”
Lost for words I just stared for a moment.
“But I thought you didn’t trust Kathy”
“Oh I don’t, that’s why I’m going to be there with you.”
“Well I don’t know that I want my wife parading around naked for all to gawp at” I started. She stopped me with a glare.
“That is not what naturism is about Peter, it is wholesome and healthy, allowing us to be comfortable with our own body.”
With that final comment, she sat back, uncrossed her legs and opened them.
“I think we’ll have sexual intercourse now, Peter.” She informed me
What was it like, where there many nudists, what were the women like, could we stage the wedding there?
When I told her it was unsuitable and Kathy’s idea Emma paused thoughtfully.
“Cottlestone Hall is perfect. It does rather depend on Giles, but he might go for it.”
Then she looked straight at me “You do know Kathy will go naked if she has to, don’t you”
I sighed; I’d known Kathy for too long now to be under any allusion she wouldn’t strip off for this contract. To her, parading around in the buff would be a small price to pay for the money.
“I think this is one deal I’ll just leave to her” I told Emma as I started to collect up the dirty dishes.
“Good boy” she told me and left me alone with the chores.
Washing up in the nude was a trifle strange, but at least I could wash the splashes straight off my skin. When I had finished I closed the door and tip toed towards the lounge. I peeked through a crack in the door. Emma was lounging on the settee in front of the television. I can’t say it was a programme I wanted to watch but it is not everyday that I get the chance to sit around with my naked wife, and I could always watch her bare body if the TV was dull.
I lowered myself carefully in a chair, feeling the fabric against my bare skin. Emma sat upright and crossed her long legs.
“I think, Peter you had better support Kathy in this enterprise”
I looked at her suspiciously. If she thought Kathy was going to be naked, in view of her usual antipathy….
“Fully support her” she continued
“You don’t mean….” I looked down at my body; I noticed my penis was behaving itself well, just like a proper nudist’s would.
“Yes, it’s all got to come off”
Lost for words I just stared for a moment.
“But I thought you didn’t trust Kathy”
“Oh I don’t, that’s why I’m going to be there with you.”
“Well I don’t know that I want my wife parading around naked for all to gawp at” I started. She stopped me with a glare.
“That is not what naturism is about Peter, it is wholesome and healthy, allowing us to be comfortable with our own body.”
With that final comment, she sat back, uncrossed her legs and opened them.
“I think we’ll have sexual intercourse now, Peter.” She informed me
Six
I had to call in at the costume hire shop on my way home. We were managing a Western themed wedding at the weekend. I thought all I needed was the hat as I reckoned any old check shirt and jeans would do. I left with chaps, spurs, a bandana, a smelly leather waistcoat and some replica six guns in a leather holster which I hid away in case a concerned passer-by called the police who, knowing my luck, would pump me full of lead and ask the pertinent questions later
I stored the guns carefully in the garage next to my cans of larger. My post was on a small table by the front door. The pleasant smell of cooking wafted out of the open kitchen door.
“Hi sweetie,” shouted Emma, “how was your day?”
“Oh so so” I said as I looked over my phone bill. I’d have to cut this down I thought.
“How was the nudist colony?”
“Fine” I just couldn’t believe the price of a few calls to Spain.
“Just fine? Is that all?” came the incredulous reply.
I had kept the letter from the Inland Revenue until last. It was with trepidation that I carefully slit open the buff envelope and pulled out the bad news. I hadn’t even read it yet but I just knew it spelt trouble. I walked into the kitchen scanning the contents quickly, only pausing until I reached their demands at the bottom.
“How much?” I exclaimed as I stood in the doorway.
“Bad news sweet pea?” asked Emma.
I looked up and dropped the letter, the outrageous demand for two thousand and twenty three pounds, forty eight pence swept from my thoughts at the sight of Emma’s outfit. She wore a pair of earrings, nothing more. She watched me carefully as I quickly came to attention.
“You can forget about that for a start” she told me abruptly.
“Come here sweetheart” I said seductively.
“Cut it out” she said “nudism is not about sex”
“What” I was confused now.
“I looked it up on the internet”
“What?” I was now more than confused. I had come home from a hard day to be greeted by my stark naked wife who was now telling me that she wasn’t looking for sex.
“Nudism or naturism as some people call it is a non sexual practice. In fact erections are rare and frowned upon. I hope you didn’t react like in this manner during your visit”
“What are you talking about Emma; I met women old enough to be your mother, a very, very fat husband and wife team, and a skinny bride to be with a future husband who is somewhat short in the sausage department”
“And what about that slut Kathy”
“She is not a slut and she was not naked” I paused before adding “and neither was I”
“Well, darling if you are going to work in a nudist club, you really should show willing”
“I thought I was showing willing”
“That is not what I meant” she said sternly. “You will have to become a nudist if you are to take this job and the best way to start is by being naked at home” I was beginning to think she believed this. “Now go upstairs and get undressed and make sure everything is under control when you come down”
The only way to live with Emma at her most contrary was to humour her.
“Ok darling, I’ll just pop upstairs then”
“Oh and have a shower please, I don’t want any stains on my chairs”
A light shone in a darkened room I suddenly realised why the nudists were sitting on their towels.
During our dinner au natural, Emma grilled me on the nudist camp.
What was it like, where there many nudists, what were the women like, could we stage the wedding there?
When I told her it was unsuitable and Kathy’s idea Emma paused thoughtfully.
“Cottlestone Hall is perfect. It does rather depend on Giles, but he might go for it.”
Then she looked straight at me “You do know Kathy will go naked if she has to, don’t you”
I sighed; I’d known Kathy for too long now to be under any allusion she wouldn’t strip off for this contract. To her, parading around in the buff would be a small price to pay for the money.
“I think this is one deal I’ll just leave to her” I told Emma as I started to collect up the dirty dishes.
“Good boy” she told me and left me alone with the chores.
Washing up in the nude was a trifle strange, but at least I could wash the splashes straight off my skin. When I had finished I closed the door and tip toed towards the lounge. I peeked through a crack in the door. Emma was lounging on the settee in front of the television. I can’t say it was a programme I wanted to watch but it is not everyday that I get the chance to sit around with my naked wife, and I could always watch her bare body if the TV was dull.
I lowered myself carefully in a chair, feeling the fabric against my bare skin. Emma sat upright and crossed her long legs.
“I think, Peter you had better support Kathy in this enterprise”
I looked at her suspiciously. If she thought Kathy was going to be naked, in view of her usual antipathy….
“Fully support her” she continued
“You don’t mean….” I looked down at my body; I noticed my penis was behaving itself well, just like a proper nudist’s would.
“Yes, it’s all got to come off”
Lost for words I just stared for a moment.
“But I thought you didn’t trust Kathy”
“Oh I don’t, that’s why I’m going to be there with you.”
“Well I don’t know that I want my wife parading around naked for all to gawp at” I started. She stopped me with a glare.
“That is not what naturism is about Peter, it is wholesome and healthy, allowing us to be comfortable with our own body.”
With that final comment, she sat back, uncrossed her legs and opened them.
“I think we’ll have sexual intercourse now, Peter.” She informed me
I stored the guns carefully in the garage next to my cans of larger. My post was on a small table by the front door. The pleasant smell of cooking wafted out of the open kitchen door.
“Hi sweetie,” shouted Emma, “how was your day?”
“Oh so so” I said as I looked over my phone bill. I’d have to cut this down I thought.
“How was the nudist colony?”
“Fine” I just couldn’t believe the price of a few calls to Spain.
“Just fine? Is that all?” came the incredulous reply.
I had kept the letter from the Inland Revenue until last. It was with trepidation that I carefully slit open the buff envelope and pulled out the bad news. I hadn’t even read it yet but I just knew it spelt trouble. I walked into the kitchen scanning the contents quickly, only pausing until I reached their demands at the bottom.
“How much?” I exclaimed as I stood in the doorway.
“Bad news sweet pea?” asked Emma.
I looked up and dropped the letter, the outrageous demand for two thousand and twenty three pounds, forty eight pence swept from my thoughts at the sight of Emma’s outfit. She wore a pair of earrings, nothing more. She watched me carefully as I quickly came to attention.
“You can forget about that for a start” she told me abruptly.
“Come here sweetheart” I said seductively.
“Cut it out” she said “nudism is not about sex”
“What” I was confused now.
“I looked it up on the internet”
“What?” I was now more than confused. I had come home from a hard day to be greeted by my stark naked wife who was now telling me that she wasn’t looking for sex.
“Nudism or naturism as some people call it is a non sexual practice. In fact erections are rare and frowned upon. I hope you didn’t react like in this manner during your visit”
“What are you talking about Emma; I met women old enough to be your mother, a very, very fat husband and wife team, and a skinny bride to be with a future husband who is somewhat short in the sausage department”
“And what about that slut Kathy”
“She is not a slut and she was not naked” I paused before adding “and neither was I”
“Well, darling if you are going to work in a nudist club, you really should show willing”
“I thought I was showing willing”
“That is not what I meant” she said sternly. “You will have to become a nudist if you are to take this job and the best way to start is by being naked at home” I was beginning to think she believed this. “Now go upstairs and get undressed and make sure everything is under control when you come down”
The only way to live with Emma at her most contrary was to humour her.
“Ok darling, I’ll just pop upstairs then”
“Oh and have a shower please, I don’t want any stains on my chairs”
A light shone in a darkened room I suddenly realised why the nudists were sitting on their towels.
During our dinner au natural, Emma grilled me on the nudist camp.
What was it like, where there many nudists, what were the women like, could we stage the wedding there?
When I told her it was unsuitable and Kathy’s idea Emma paused thoughtfully.
“Cottlestone Hall is perfect. It does rather depend on Giles, but he might go for it.”
Then she looked straight at me “You do know Kathy will go naked if she has to, don’t you”
I sighed; I’d known Kathy for too long now to be under any allusion she wouldn’t strip off for this contract. To her, parading around in the buff would be a small price to pay for the money.
“I think this is one deal I’ll just leave to her” I told Emma as I started to collect up the dirty dishes.
“Good boy” she told me and left me alone with the chores.
Washing up in the nude was a trifle strange, but at least I could wash the splashes straight off my skin. When I had finished I closed the door and tip toed towards the lounge. I peeked through a crack in the door. Emma was lounging on the settee in front of the television. I can’t say it was a programme I wanted to watch but it is not everyday that I get the chance to sit around with my naked wife, and I could always watch her bare body if the TV was dull.
I lowered myself carefully in a chair, feeling the fabric against my bare skin. Emma sat upright and crossed her long legs.
“I think, Peter you had better support Kathy in this enterprise”
I looked at her suspiciously. If she thought Kathy was going to be naked, in view of her usual antipathy….
“Fully support her” she continued
“You don’t mean….” I looked down at my body; I noticed my penis was behaving itself well, just like a proper nudist’s would.
“Yes, it’s all got to come off”
Lost for words I just stared for a moment.
“But I thought you didn’t trust Kathy”
“Oh I don’t, that’s why I’m going to be there with you.”
“Well I don’t know that I want my wife parading around naked for all to gawp at” I started. She stopped me with a glare.
“That is not what naturism is about Peter, it is wholesome and healthy, allowing us to be comfortable with our own body.”
With that final comment, she sat back, uncrossed her legs and opened them.
“I think we’ll have sexual intercourse now, Peter.” She informed me
Seven
The Western wedding was a huge success. There was even an authentic bar room brawl at the end. Fortunately no one called the police and I was not shot for being in the possession of a side arm.
As we worked Saturday’s we always took the following Monday off. Emma never quite liked this as she suspected I arranged it with the sole aim of having the golf course more or less to myself. Sometimes she was right about me.
Bright and early Tuesday morning I dropped off my cowboy costume and moseyed down to the ol’ office.
Kathy was already in and at her desk when I arrived.
“Hi Pete, how was the golf.”
“Pretty damn good even if I do say so myself” I replied “what did you do yesterday?”
“Oh you know this and that” she answered evasively.
“Who is he?” I asked
“I do not have another man” she told me firmly. She had been unattached since she dumped her ex boyfriend for being a dull engineer.
“So if it wasn’t another man, what’s the big secret?”
“There isn’t one” she said
But I could tell there was.
“I think I might drive out and see Giles” she told me gathering her things, “The personal touch might do the trick”
“Try and make him think of what he won’t be seeing” I said.
“Something like that” she replied in a vague manner.
Whoa I thought. Emma may be right.
Kath and I usually operated independently, meeting at least once a day to synchronise. She tended to smooth the clients and venue owners while I bullied our suppliers. We liked to present a united front to our richer clients and Greta and Bob certainly fitted that description. I had no idea how Kathy’s meeting with Giles had gone until the next day when we met in her office to catch up.
“He’s up for it” she told me
“What exactly is he up for?” I asked.
“The works, chapel, hall, grounds”
“Right, I’ll phone Sally and we’ll arrange a tour”
“What about a presentation?” she asked.
We usually arranged for a presentation at the clients’ house for all the interested parties, it was a slick public relations exercise allowing the two families to see the venues and get a flavour of the services we can provide.
“Well” I began “I don’t think so in this case”
Kathy interrupted me “You’re worried it will be at the nudist club aren’t you”
“No, not at all” I began, “It’s just, you how I feel, there is still a part of me thinks it’s a hoax.”
“Oh come on Pete, we’re too far down the road for that now, and anyway they’d have chosen some one with a bigger willy than poor old Bob and his cocktail sausage.”
“Let’s see if they like it first” I told her. Procrastination is my only plan in desperate times.
Two days later on a crisp sunny morning Kath and I stood outside Cottlestone Hall chatting with Giles. The key to a successful meeting is to be there before the client and Sally and Greta were not due to arrive for another half an hour. I gazed along the gravelled drive to the blue hills beyond. On such a perfect spring morning the estate shone like a jewel that surely Sally and Greta would not be able resist. Giles knew this too and he positively drooled, his smug aristocratic features grinning in anticipation of all his dreams coming true at the same time. Loads of naked totty running around his ancestral pile, and added to this was the chance of a lifetime; an only in your dreams opportunity of seeing Kathy naked. And the cream on the latte was that he was going to be paid loads of money for the privilege. And privilege describes Giles to a tee. He had it all, the title, the land, the ancestral home, the connections and that aristocratic arrogance that opened many a door that was forever closed to the rest of us. What he did lack, however, was the money, which is why he was entertaining us on a sunny Wednesday morning.
“I know Max Hunter, ya know” he drawled, “We’re in the same club”
“Really” I replied, “didn’t have you pegged as a nudist”
“Golf club, Peter” he reminded me sternly.
We were sitting on the terrace drinking luke warm tea.
“Never met the wife or sprogs mind” he continued “Filthy rich of course.” He paused while he took a sip of tea. “New money” added scornfully.
“Better than no money” I said sardonically. Kathy kicked me under the table. She didn’t want Giles to go cold on the deal.
“It’s very good of you to let us use Cottlestone Hall for this event” she said smiling as she gazed across the grounds. I watched Giles’ gaze roaming down her body, mentally stripping off her clothes.
“Not at all Kathy, I do so love your themed events”
“I know, but his is something of a departure for us” she continued as I dunked a digestive into my tea to underline my republican credentials.
“It’s very brave of you to take it on” said Giles, licking his lips.
“Ah well, you know us” I said, “Always up for a new challenge”
“I do so love the way you throw yourselves into these speciality weddings, always dressing the part” continued Giles staring at Kathy’s chest.
She turned to look at him and smiled.
“Oh there’ll be no dressing up this time”
Giles was a true aristocrat and as such was slower than slug in winter.
“Oh” he said despondently
“If you know what I mean” said Kathy coquettishly, with a sly wink.
“Ah ha... er yes” began a very flustered Giles
“Will you be joining us Giles?” I asked him innocently.
Before he could reply Kathy broke in
“Here they are”
A large silver Mercedes was coming slowly along the drive. Resisting the urchin urge to slurp out of the saucer, I gulped down the rest of my tea, and followed Kathy and Giles onto the gravel forecourt where the car had crunched to a halt. Sally and Greta emerged and stood for a while taking in the house with its fake Palladian frontage, the mock gothic chapel to the side, all framed by a hazy backdrop of the distant Mendip hills. I knew in that moment that we clinched the deal. Giles however was drinking in the view of Sally and Greta. He was looking as I had looked two weeks ago in my office. Greta looked gorgeous. I knew what he was thinking, and I chuckled inwardly at the disappointment he would feel when he got to see Greta naked. Sally was dressed casually in such a way that oozed money. This was in stark contrast to when we had last met, but you can’t look rich in the nude.
“Kathy, good to see you again” said Sally with genuine warmth as they embraced. This seemed overly friendly to me and I stuck out for a handshake. I introduced Giles while Kathy and Greta greeted each other like the best of friends. Mmm something was going on here.
The tour took about an hour, the house and grounds were at their immaculate best in the silver light of spring. Greta sang to herself as we showed her around, while Sally grilled Giles on his feelings.
“Kathy has told you of the nature of the wedding” she stated rather than asked
“Yes I am fully aware, Sally”
“We are not ashamed of being naturists, but if word got out then we may have some unwanted publicity”
“I can assure you Sally it is not something I wish to publicise”
Sally gave Giles a sharp look. But Giles’ expensive schooling at some the country’s most exclusive establishments was not in vain.
“Don’t mistake me, I fully understand and empathise with your daughter’s wish for a naturist wedding and while I do not worry about it taking place at Cottlestone Hall I am concerned with the event becoming public knowledge. My concern is that should prior knowledge of the event slip out we may invite unwanted attentions from the less salubrious members of the local populace, which would detract from your enjoyment of what is meant to be best day in your daughter’s life”
True class will out and all Sally could do was nod in agreement to that load of old aristocratic flannel.
“I’m sure Peter has security all worked out” he added.
I hadn’t, but I had been thinking of little else as I walked around the grounds. Not least because the awful truth was beginning to dawn on me that Kathy was going to take her clothes off, and a lot of pressure would be coming my way to join her.
An hour after it had arrived the silver Mercedes was rolling up the drive towards the main road. Nothing had been said but all three of us knew that this was to be the venue for our first, and if I had anything to do with it, only nude wedding. I was about to tackle Giles about security when he dropped his bombshell.
“How are we going to cater this? My staff won’t be happy with all those people roaming around in the buff”
Kathy and Giles looked at me.
“Oh no,” I said “No, no, not Emma”
Emma ran a catering business. This is how we had met. We had employed her company to provide the food for a modest Star Trek wedding, where all the guests had worn those unflattering lycra uniforms. As usual Kathy and I had taken part and I like to think it was my pointy ears and cool Vulcan logic that had attracted Emma to me. We still put some work her way, but most venues had their own catering these days. This was no great loss to her as she was usually busy feeding smoked salmon to self important business men at corporate courses.
Kathy smiled, “Don’t worry I’ve already talked to her about it, she thinks she can cope”
Yes, but could I?
As we worked Saturday’s we always took the following Monday off. Emma never quite liked this as she suspected I arranged it with the sole aim of having the golf course more or less to myself. Sometimes she was right about me.
Bright and early Tuesday morning I dropped off my cowboy costume and moseyed down to the ol’ office.
Kathy was already in and at her desk when I arrived.
“Hi Pete, how was the golf.”
“Pretty damn good even if I do say so myself” I replied “what did you do yesterday?”
“Oh you know this and that” she answered evasively.
“Who is he?” I asked
“I do not have another man” she told me firmly. She had been unattached since she dumped her ex boyfriend for being a dull engineer.
“So if it wasn’t another man, what’s the big secret?”
“There isn’t one” she said
But I could tell there was.
“I think I might drive out and see Giles” she told me gathering her things, “The personal touch might do the trick”
“Try and make him think of what he won’t be seeing” I said.
“Something like that” she replied in a vague manner.
Whoa I thought. Emma may be right.
Kath and I usually operated independently, meeting at least once a day to synchronise. She tended to smooth the clients and venue owners while I bullied our suppliers. We liked to present a united front to our richer clients and Greta and Bob certainly fitted that description. I had no idea how Kathy’s meeting with Giles had gone until the next day when we met in her office to catch up.
“He’s up for it” she told me
“What exactly is he up for?” I asked.
“The works, chapel, hall, grounds”
“Right, I’ll phone Sally and we’ll arrange a tour”
“What about a presentation?” she asked.
We usually arranged for a presentation at the clients’ house for all the interested parties, it was a slick public relations exercise allowing the two families to see the venues and get a flavour of the services we can provide.
“Well” I began “I don’t think so in this case”
Kathy interrupted me “You’re worried it will be at the nudist club aren’t you”
“No, not at all” I began, “It’s just, you how I feel, there is still a part of me thinks it’s a hoax.”
“Oh come on Pete, we’re too far down the road for that now, and anyway they’d have chosen some one with a bigger willy than poor old Bob and his cocktail sausage.”
“Let’s see if they like it first” I told her. Procrastination is my only plan in desperate times.
Two days later on a crisp sunny morning Kath and I stood outside Cottlestone Hall chatting with Giles. The key to a successful meeting is to be there before the client and Sally and Greta were not due to arrive for another half an hour. I gazed along the gravelled drive to the blue hills beyond. On such a perfect spring morning the estate shone like a jewel that surely Sally and Greta would not be able resist. Giles knew this too and he positively drooled, his smug aristocratic features grinning in anticipation of all his dreams coming true at the same time. Loads of naked totty running around his ancestral pile, and added to this was the chance of a lifetime; an only in your dreams opportunity of seeing Kathy naked. And the cream on the latte was that he was going to be paid loads of money for the privilege. And privilege describes Giles to a tee. He had it all, the title, the land, the ancestral home, the connections and that aristocratic arrogance that opened many a door that was forever closed to the rest of us. What he did lack, however, was the money, which is why he was entertaining us on a sunny Wednesday morning.
“I know Max Hunter, ya know” he drawled, “We’re in the same club”
“Really” I replied, “didn’t have you pegged as a nudist”
“Golf club, Peter” he reminded me sternly.
We were sitting on the terrace drinking luke warm tea.
“Never met the wife or sprogs mind” he continued “Filthy rich of course.” He paused while he took a sip of tea. “New money” added scornfully.
“Better than no money” I said sardonically. Kathy kicked me under the table. She didn’t want Giles to go cold on the deal.
“It’s very good of you to let us use Cottlestone Hall for this event” she said smiling as she gazed across the grounds. I watched Giles’ gaze roaming down her body, mentally stripping off her clothes.
“Not at all Kathy, I do so love your themed events”
“I know, but his is something of a departure for us” she continued as I dunked a digestive into my tea to underline my republican credentials.
“It’s very brave of you to take it on” said Giles, licking his lips.
“Ah well, you know us” I said, “Always up for a new challenge”
“I do so love the way you throw yourselves into these speciality weddings, always dressing the part” continued Giles staring at Kathy’s chest.
She turned to look at him and smiled.
“Oh there’ll be no dressing up this time”
Giles was a true aristocrat and as such was slower than slug in winter.
“Oh” he said despondently
“If you know what I mean” said Kathy coquettishly, with a sly wink.
“Ah ha... er yes” began a very flustered Giles
“Will you be joining us Giles?” I asked him innocently.
Before he could reply Kathy broke in
“Here they are”
A large silver Mercedes was coming slowly along the drive. Resisting the urchin urge to slurp out of the saucer, I gulped down the rest of my tea, and followed Kathy and Giles onto the gravel forecourt where the car had crunched to a halt. Sally and Greta emerged and stood for a while taking in the house with its fake Palladian frontage, the mock gothic chapel to the side, all framed by a hazy backdrop of the distant Mendip hills. I knew in that moment that we clinched the deal. Giles however was drinking in the view of Sally and Greta. He was looking as I had looked two weeks ago in my office. Greta looked gorgeous. I knew what he was thinking, and I chuckled inwardly at the disappointment he would feel when he got to see Greta naked. Sally was dressed casually in such a way that oozed money. This was in stark contrast to when we had last met, but you can’t look rich in the nude.
“Kathy, good to see you again” said Sally with genuine warmth as they embraced. This seemed overly friendly to me and I stuck out for a handshake. I introduced Giles while Kathy and Greta greeted each other like the best of friends. Mmm something was going on here.
The tour took about an hour, the house and grounds were at their immaculate best in the silver light of spring. Greta sang to herself as we showed her around, while Sally grilled Giles on his feelings.
“Kathy has told you of the nature of the wedding” she stated rather than asked
“Yes I am fully aware, Sally”
“We are not ashamed of being naturists, but if word got out then we may have some unwanted publicity”
“I can assure you Sally it is not something I wish to publicise”
Sally gave Giles a sharp look. But Giles’ expensive schooling at some the country’s most exclusive establishments was not in vain.
“Don’t mistake me, I fully understand and empathise with your daughter’s wish for a naturist wedding and while I do not worry about it taking place at Cottlestone Hall I am concerned with the event becoming public knowledge. My concern is that should prior knowledge of the event slip out we may invite unwanted attentions from the less salubrious members of the local populace, which would detract from your enjoyment of what is meant to be best day in your daughter’s life”
True class will out and all Sally could do was nod in agreement to that load of old aristocratic flannel.
“I’m sure Peter has security all worked out” he added.
I hadn’t, but I had been thinking of little else as I walked around the grounds. Not least because the awful truth was beginning to dawn on me that Kathy was going to take her clothes off, and a lot of pressure would be coming my way to join her.
An hour after it had arrived the silver Mercedes was rolling up the drive towards the main road. Nothing had been said but all three of us knew that this was to be the venue for our first, and if I had anything to do with it, only nude wedding. I was about to tackle Giles about security when he dropped his bombshell.
“How are we going to cater this? My staff won’t be happy with all those people roaming around in the buff”
Kathy and Giles looked at me.
“Oh no,” I said “No, no, not Emma”
Emma ran a catering business. This is how we had met. We had employed her company to provide the food for a modest Star Trek wedding, where all the guests had worn those unflattering lycra uniforms. As usual Kathy and I had taken part and I like to think it was my pointy ears and cool Vulcan logic that had attracted Emma to me. We still put some work her way, but most venues had their own catering these days. This was no great loss to her as she was usually busy feeding smoked salmon to self important business men at corporate courses.
Kathy smiled, “Don’t worry I’ve already talked to her about it, she thinks she can cope”
Yes, but could I?
Eight
I said nothing on the way back to the office. The sparkling spring countryside outside could not cheer me up. Dragging Emma into this madness had complicated what was already becoming a difficult position for me. How had it come to this I pondered? Two weeks ago I had never visited a nudist colony, never strolled in the countryside with naked women and a stark naked meal with my wife would have been an erotic fantasy. This was now small beer compared to the path ahead. How could I get out of this situation when everyone seemed to be tripping merrily along the yellow brick in a demented version of the Wizard of Oz. I couldn’t decide if I was the cowardly lion or the scarecrow without a brain. Up until now I had told myself this was a hoax and I could always walk away from the whole affair. Suddenly, and with out any warning it had swallowed my business partner whole. I strongly suspected she had been spending time at the nudist club. And now it was pulling my wife in. She was already prancing around in the nude at home and when I looked into the future all I could see was a naked wedding in Cottlestone Hall looming on a grey horizon like a twisted Emerald City. I certainly wasn’t in Kansas anymore and I had a dread feeling I wasn’t going to wake up to find I was dreaming.
“Penny for then” said Kathy as we parked outside the office.
“What” I replied
“Oh come on Pete” she said sharply, “you’ve barely said a word all the way back.”
“I was just thinking, that’s all”
“It’s about Emma isn’t it?”
“Well yes, did you have to bring into this?”
“Me” she retorted,” It was you who asked her to do the catering”
I just stared at her.
“If you will excuse me,” I told her, “I think I might just go and have a word with my wife”
I drove across town in a dream. The quiet sunlit streets slipped by unnoticed as I pondered Emma’s perfidy. Why had she done this, to keep an eye on me I supposed. She clearly hadn’t thought it through. Her company was quite able to do such an event under normal circumstances, but she faced the same problem as Giles, where were you going to get the staff?
I formulated my plan of attack as I turned into the small industrial estate where Emma had her offices, cold store and kitchens. Parking my car I whistled a jaunty tune as I strolled into the sparsely furnished ante room.
“My wife in?” I asked breezily of the raven haired waif sitting behind the desk. I looked her up and down, rather big chest for one so small. Another student that Emma hired cheap I suspected.
“Hello darling. What are you doing here?”
I went straight into a full frontal attack.
“Kathy tells me you are planning to cater for our special event”
“The naturist wedding” she said loudly with a grin as I winced, the little redhead had heard that as clear as a bell. Emma was already outflanking me. “Yes, it’s best keeping that all in the family, don’t you think?”
“Oh and are you planning to cook, serve the meals and wash up all by yourself? Because I’ll be too busy to help!” I shouted, playing all but my aces at one go before adding “in the nude” This did set her back a little.
“I know staff will be a problem” she admitted “but I may be able to persuade some of our regulars.”
“I think I can help you there” said a voice from the open door behind me
I turned to look at the busty redhead who was leaning seductively against the side of Emma’s office door. I could see now that she might just be up for it.
“I think, without much persuasion I could get you a full team from my club at college” she said.
“Your club, Temi?” asked Emma
“Yes the Chariot Club” she said.
“What sort of club is that?” I knew students were weird but Ben Hur at the races?
“Well it’s not official, by any means” she replied in a hushed tone, “It’s well chariot as in swing low sweet chariot, if you get my drift”
I got her drift alright, “we can’t have any shenanigans” I told her; “this is a reputable event” Temi looked at me seriously. I couldn’t believe myself. I had just described a wedding where the bride, groom and most of the guests were planning to be naked as reputable.
“Oh, don’t worry we’ll behave ourselves there, but afterwards…. Party, party” Her face was one wide grin. “We’ve a meeting tonight at the pub across the road from Uni, why don’t you come along and meet the gang”
I shuddered when Emma said yes.
I was still shuddering five hours later as we drove across the town to meet the “Chariot Club” in large barn of a pub that was once known as “The Royal Oak” but now rejoiced in the title of “The Advocate”. The pub was empty, but after a discreet word with a grinning barman I was shown to an upstairs function room. I knocked on the door. It opened a fraction and Temi peeked through the gap, before she opened it wide and invited us in. The Chariot club was clearly in full swing, there were about twenty in total, an equal mixture of young males and females all in various states of undress. The only exception was our host for the evening Temi who was stark naked. She had two large arrows drawn on her body, one leading between her ponderous breasts and pointing at her mouth, the other pointing down to her shaven vagina. Between the two arrows was written in large letters, ‘insert penis here’ I think I had the gist of the club now, and somehow I knew that recruiting them as naked waiters would be no trouble. Keeping their minds on the job however would be a different matter.
Emma made the pitch and asked for volunteers. She was almost killed in the rush. Satisfied that we could now meet Greta and Bob’s requirements, we got up to leave.
“Why don’t you stay” suggested Temi, “the boys are going to do some penis fencing, you join in Pete.”
Emma smiled as I politely made my excuses. As we left Temi was organising the teams, her pendulous breasts swaying as she strode around the room.
“What sort of name is Temi, anyway” I asked Emma as we descended into the relative sanity of the pub.
“It’s short for Artemis.” said Emma “You know, the Greek goddess of the moon” She paused dramatically “and chastity”
“Penny for then” said Kathy as we parked outside the office.
“What” I replied
“Oh come on Pete” she said sharply, “you’ve barely said a word all the way back.”
“I was just thinking, that’s all”
“It’s about Emma isn’t it?”
“Well yes, did you have to bring into this?”
“Me” she retorted,” It was you who asked her to do the catering”
I just stared at her.
“If you will excuse me,” I told her, “I think I might just go and have a word with my wife”
I drove across town in a dream. The quiet sunlit streets slipped by unnoticed as I pondered Emma’s perfidy. Why had she done this, to keep an eye on me I supposed. She clearly hadn’t thought it through. Her company was quite able to do such an event under normal circumstances, but she faced the same problem as Giles, where were you going to get the staff?
I formulated my plan of attack as I turned into the small industrial estate where Emma had her offices, cold store and kitchens. Parking my car I whistled a jaunty tune as I strolled into the sparsely furnished ante room.
“My wife in?” I asked breezily of the raven haired waif sitting behind the desk. I looked her up and down, rather big chest for one so small. Another student that Emma hired cheap I suspected.
“Hello darling. What are you doing here?”
I went straight into a full frontal attack.
“Kathy tells me you are planning to cater for our special event”
“The naturist wedding” she said loudly with a grin as I winced, the little redhead had heard that as clear as a bell. Emma was already outflanking me. “Yes, it’s best keeping that all in the family, don’t you think?”
“Oh and are you planning to cook, serve the meals and wash up all by yourself? Because I’ll be too busy to help!” I shouted, playing all but my aces at one go before adding “in the nude” This did set her back a little.
“I know staff will be a problem” she admitted “but I may be able to persuade some of our regulars.”
“I think I can help you there” said a voice from the open door behind me
I turned to look at the busty redhead who was leaning seductively against the side of Emma’s office door. I could see now that she might just be up for it.
“I think, without much persuasion I could get you a full team from my club at college” she said.
“Your club, Temi?” asked Emma
“Yes the Chariot Club” she said.
“What sort of club is that?” I knew students were weird but Ben Hur at the races?
“Well it’s not official, by any means” she replied in a hushed tone, “It’s well chariot as in swing low sweet chariot, if you get my drift”
I got her drift alright, “we can’t have any shenanigans” I told her; “this is a reputable event” Temi looked at me seriously. I couldn’t believe myself. I had just described a wedding where the bride, groom and most of the guests were planning to be naked as reputable.
“Oh, don’t worry we’ll behave ourselves there, but afterwards…. Party, party” Her face was one wide grin. “We’ve a meeting tonight at the pub across the road from Uni, why don’t you come along and meet the gang”
I shuddered when Emma said yes.
I was still shuddering five hours later as we drove across the town to meet the “Chariot Club” in large barn of a pub that was once known as “The Royal Oak” but now rejoiced in the title of “The Advocate”. The pub was empty, but after a discreet word with a grinning barman I was shown to an upstairs function room. I knocked on the door. It opened a fraction and Temi peeked through the gap, before she opened it wide and invited us in. The Chariot club was clearly in full swing, there were about twenty in total, an equal mixture of young males and females all in various states of undress. The only exception was our host for the evening Temi who was stark naked. She had two large arrows drawn on her body, one leading between her ponderous breasts and pointing at her mouth, the other pointing down to her shaven vagina. Between the two arrows was written in large letters, ‘insert penis here’ I think I had the gist of the club now, and somehow I knew that recruiting them as naked waiters would be no trouble. Keeping their minds on the job however would be a different matter.
Emma made the pitch and asked for volunteers. She was almost killed in the rush. Satisfied that we could now meet Greta and Bob’s requirements, we got up to leave.
“Why don’t you stay” suggested Temi, “the boys are going to do some penis fencing, you join in Pete.”
Emma smiled as I politely made my excuses. As we left Temi was organising the teams, her pendulous breasts swaying as she strode around the room.
“What sort of name is Temi, anyway” I asked Emma as we descended into the relative sanity of the pub.
“It’s short for Artemis.” said Emma “You know, the Greek goddess of the moon” She paused dramatically “and chastity”
Thursday, 1 October 2009
nine
The following morning sky was dull and grey. The sparkling spring of the previous day confined to memory. The grim weather rather suited my mood. I was a long way down path I never intended to travel and I had a feeling I’d never make it back to the higher ground. Emma reinforced my feeling of helplessness by trotting naked down the stairs as was about to leave. I watched her small breasts bouncing, her brown nipples hypnotised me, leaving helpless to do anything but nod in a final acceptance of my fate as she ordered me to get it sorted with Kathy.
I drove towards the office thinking about the previous evening. Emma and I had discussed Greta and Bob’s wedding at some length, and finally I had come to terms with my fears and faced the fact that we were going to organise this event, and we all were going to maintain of proud tradition of dressing the part, or not in this case. There was however one hurdle that Emma insisted I got over, and that was her bete noir, Kathy. If we were to do our jobs properly we had to be comfortable naked. In a complete about face Emma, who a fortnight ago had threatened me with castration, was now encouraging me to spend time naked with Kathy. I shuddered, not at the thought of seeing my business partner in the nude, which I have to admit is something that I always fancied, but at the thought of us, naked together was more than disconcerting.
I parked the car as near as I could to the office, which was about a quarter of a mile away. As I hurried along ranting to myself about draconian parking restrictions a passing bus sloshed though a large brown puddle left by the night’s spring rain. The driver was a true professional and had judged his swerve to perfection and the last thing I saw before a wall of muddy water engulfed me was the triumphant grin on his face. It was of little comfort to me that I had probably brightened up his dull mundane existence.
Our secretary Carol wasn’t in so only Kathy was on hand to share the malevolent bus driver’s little joke.
“It’s not fun” I protested “Even my pants are soaked!”
When she had stopped laughing she strode over to the door the street locked it, and then proceeded to pull down the window blinds as I stood dripping forlornly onto the office carpet.
Kathy pointed to my office.
“Get in there and get your clothes off” she commanded “I’ll take them next-door to Deirdre’s to be cleaned. You’ll have them back in an hour”
“What” I protested “I can’t sit around in my pants”
“Your pants are soaked so they’ll have to come off too. Now don’t be pig headed, Peter, you’ll get a cold. You’ve got no appointments and I’ve locked the door”
“What about Carol?” I said playing my last card
“She’s not coming in until after lunch. You’ll be sitting smartly in your freshly pressed suit by then” she countered pushing me into my office and closing the door.
I hesitated, but she was right I was soaked and I was already beginning to feel cold. I turned my little fan heater on, but my suit was so wet it was useless. I looked down; it was covered in mud. I sighed and began to undress.
“Come on Pete, hurry up” shouted Kathy banging on the door. I opened the door a small crack and handed her my jacket, trousers and shirt one at a time. I stood there shivering in my wet underpants and socks. Her hand came thought the door.
“Pants” She said imperiously.
“You can’t take them to the dry cleaners” I protested.
”No but I can hang them to dry in the kitchen” she told me.
With great reluctance I peeled down my wet pants.
“I’d just like to point out” I told her defensively as I passed them through the door, “that the brown satins are due to the muddy water from the puddle”
“I’ll be back in a moment” she said and I heard the door slam and lock.
I looked around my office. It was the same as it always was. Papers strewn on the desk, the comfy armchairs for the punters, leather swivel for me, functional computer to one side of the imitation teak desk, phone to the other. A picture of me and Emma, smiling on sunlit path high in the Austrian Alps held my gaze, my eyes followed the mountains to infinity and beyond where my penis hung, a ghostly reflection spoiling the snow covered sunlit slopes. I sprang back in shock into my chair only to jump back up again at the feel of cold leather on my bare behind.
I stared at the door. No that way led to madness, but I couldn’t resist, I had to do it. And so as if drawn by some command I opened the door and walked out into the outer office. Here I was, stark naked, exposed in such a public place. How about if I tried Kathy’s office. No that was a dare too far. But once the thought was in my heads I knew I had to go for it. I stepped forward but was stopped by the rattle of a key in the lock. My heart pounded as I scurried back to the shelter of my own office. I looked around; My tie was bout the only serviceable item of clothing left, but that hid nothing. What if it was Carol, what would I say to her, how could I explain.
“Hi Pete, it’s only me” said Kathy from the outer office. “She said about an hour”
An hour, it sounded like a year to me.
“Right ho” I replied weakly sitting on my chair. I looked up startled as the door opened. Kathy’s head appeared, she grinned. “Good practice for the naturist wedding”
I gulped but could find nothing to say. “What say you we make a start on the presentation” she suggested
“Er well, I’d rather not in my present state” I replied feebly.
“Oh come on Pete, you’ll have to get used to it sometime” she told me breezily. “tell you what, you get the computer booted up while I just get out of these clothes”
I looked up in panic, but before I could say anything she was gone. I was still staring at the door two minutes later when she walked back in. She wasn’t beautiful by any means and her body was far from perfect, but the package just screamed sex on two legs at me. As she strode purposely towards me I took it all in the small firm breasts framed in the marks from her recently abandoned underwear. The smooth pale skin, the patch of dark pubic hair that thinned from the centre outwards, the firm thighs. She peeked over the edge of the desk.
“Why Peter, I do believe you are pleased to see me” she commented as she placed her firm buttocks on its polished edge. “I don’t think that thing should be exposed for too long.” Her voice was low and husky now “In fact I’ve got a place you can put it” she said sultrily as she opened her legs.
The hormones took over as leapt to my feet. Just to the left of Kathy’s exposed hip I caught sight of Emma’s photograph. She seemed to be looking at me accusingly. I reached forward and placed it face down, Emma shouldn’t watch this. Before I could move further Kathy suddenly said, “No stop, this is wrong” I halted in mid stride, she was of course right, it could only end in tears, along road of illicit sex and subterfuge, which could only end in discovery and a rather nasty divorce. I heaved a sigh of relief. I had escaped by the skin of my teeth
“I can’t do this face to face” Kathy continued firmly. With that she turned around, swept the papers from the desk before replacing them with her bare chest, leaving me with a perfect view of her perfect behind. The hormones kicked in once more, I came to attention and moved forward.
“And Peter” said Kathy “just make sure you get the right hole”
I screeched to halt again. What was that supposed to mean, was she worried bout getting pregnant? That didn’t fit with a fast uncontrolled cresta run a of a shag in the office. I contemplated the orifices before me. The pink high road to the Greek underworld or the moist hairy low most travelled road . Which should I take? Which did she want me to take? A sudden thought came into my mind, what if she had eaten a curry last night. Kath wiggled her hips impatiently, I made my decision and all caution thrown to the wind, the future mortgaged to the present I moved in for the thrill.
“Hello” The word echoed through the outer office like a gunshot down the Khyber pass. Kathy shot up and I fell down rapidly.
“I thought you said she wouldn’t be in” I hissed.
“That’s what she told me” Kathy hissed back “stall her before she comes in”
“Hello Carol, is that you?”
“Yes”
“I thought you wouldn’t be in till later” I shouted
“Swimming practice was cancelled” she replied “Is Kathy in?”
“Yes we’re having a meeting”
“I’m putting the kettle on, do you want some tea?”
“That would be nice”
“How about you, Kathy?”
I turned around, Kathy had disappeared. “She’d love one” I shouted back.
I heard the sound of Carol’s footsteps heading off towards the small kitchen area. I thought briefly of my underpants
Kathy’s head popped up from behind my desk.
“What did you tell her that for you moron” she demanded unsympathetically
“It will buy us some time” I told her
“You’ve got a plan.” An accusation not an inquiry.
“Where are your clothes?”
“In my off………Oh no, if you think I can streak across without Carol seeing me”
“There is a chance” I claimed, knowing that it lay between slim and none.
Kathy wasn’t stupid “no there isn’t; and if you think it’s possible, you go”
“Don’t be stupid I can hardly make it there and back without her seeing me” I retorted. “And I’d rather she saw me naked than wearing your clothes”
“That’s it” said Kathy standing up rapidly and inducing some alluring vibrations in her small breasts. “We’ll tell her the truth”
“What” I was astonished “tell her we were about to bonk each other’s brains out!”
Kathy blushed at the thought of what we could well have been doing at this moment. She brushed past me, I felt her smooth skin, the heat of her body, and bathed in the confidence of somebody who did have a plan. I knew I wasn’t going to like it, and I knew what it was.
“Carol are you there?” she called.
I could hear the clatter of cups in the kitchen. “Just coming she called” Had she not turned up unannounced, I could have been saying the same.
“There’s just one thing” called Kathy, and it was one big thing, well it had been a moment ago.
“We were preparing for the Hunter presentation, and we decided to do it in costume” she paused, “Or not, if you see what you mean”
There was silence in the outer office.
“I see” Carol said carefully, “I have been thinking about that”
“Just tell her to go out” I hissed at Kathy’s well rounded behind. She flapped her hand to shut me up.
“I imagine you are finding it difficult to get staff” Carol continued
‘You’d be surprised’ I thought
“If you need some help I’m up for it” Now I was surprised, but not as surprised as I was going to be.
“Well,” replied Kathy slowly “Are you sure”
“Give me a moment” came the reply
“What did you say that for” I whispered angrily.
“Well what did you expect me to say” she replied testily
“No, and go out shopping for an hour” I replied
“Look, Pete, it was a moment of madness, and something we would come to regret so its better this way.”
I couldn’t have agreed more and I had more pressing matters on my mind than resuming the spiralling downward thread of adultery. Top my current agenda was a reunion with my clothes
“Yes, yes, but if we get rid of her we can get dressed”
But it was too late as the door was already opening to reveal a stark naked Carol. She smiled as she squeezed between us carrying a tray laden with three mugs and a small plate of biscuits. She was a competitive swimmer and had broad shoulders and a wide back, her long muscled thighs led to strong well formed buttocks. I watched as she lay the tray down before sitting on a vacant chair.
“So how far have you got” said
I looked at her, sitting with her shoulders well back emphasising her small breasts with tiny pointed nipples the colour of small rosebuds just about to open. She crossed her long legs and covered her hairless vagina with her hands. Clearly Carol’s plan was the diametrically opposite of the young couple whose wedding we were planning. Take an abnormal situation and act as if you and everyone else were still dressed.
I drove towards the office thinking about the previous evening. Emma and I had discussed Greta and Bob’s wedding at some length, and finally I had come to terms with my fears and faced the fact that we were going to organise this event, and we all were going to maintain of proud tradition of dressing the part, or not in this case. There was however one hurdle that Emma insisted I got over, and that was her bete noir, Kathy. If we were to do our jobs properly we had to be comfortable naked. In a complete about face Emma, who a fortnight ago had threatened me with castration, was now encouraging me to spend time naked with Kathy. I shuddered, not at the thought of seeing my business partner in the nude, which I have to admit is something that I always fancied, but at the thought of us, naked together was more than disconcerting.
I parked the car as near as I could to the office, which was about a quarter of a mile away. As I hurried along ranting to myself about draconian parking restrictions a passing bus sloshed though a large brown puddle left by the night’s spring rain. The driver was a true professional and had judged his swerve to perfection and the last thing I saw before a wall of muddy water engulfed me was the triumphant grin on his face. It was of little comfort to me that I had probably brightened up his dull mundane existence.
Our secretary Carol wasn’t in so only Kathy was on hand to share the malevolent bus driver’s little joke.
“It’s not fun” I protested “Even my pants are soaked!”
When she had stopped laughing she strode over to the door the street locked it, and then proceeded to pull down the window blinds as I stood dripping forlornly onto the office carpet.
Kathy pointed to my office.
“Get in there and get your clothes off” she commanded “I’ll take them next-door to Deirdre’s to be cleaned. You’ll have them back in an hour”
“What” I protested “I can’t sit around in my pants”
“Your pants are soaked so they’ll have to come off too. Now don’t be pig headed, Peter, you’ll get a cold. You’ve got no appointments and I’ve locked the door”
“What about Carol?” I said playing my last card
“She’s not coming in until after lunch. You’ll be sitting smartly in your freshly pressed suit by then” she countered pushing me into my office and closing the door.
I hesitated, but she was right I was soaked and I was already beginning to feel cold. I turned my little fan heater on, but my suit was so wet it was useless. I looked down; it was covered in mud. I sighed and began to undress.
“Come on Pete, hurry up” shouted Kathy banging on the door. I opened the door a small crack and handed her my jacket, trousers and shirt one at a time. I stood there shivering in my wet underpants and socks. Her hand came thought the door.
“Pants” She said imperiously.
“You can’t take them to the dry cleaners” I protested.
”No but I can hang them to dry in the kitchen” she told me.
With great reluctance I peeled down my wet pants.
“I’d just like to point out” I told her defensively as I passed them through the door, “that the brown satins are due to the muddy water from the puddle”
“I’ll be back in a moment” she said and I heard the door slam and lock.
I looked around my office. It was the same as it always was. Papers strewn on the desk, the comfy armchairs for the punters, leather swivel for me, functional computer to one side of the imitation teak desk, phone to the other. A picture of me and Emma, smiling on sunlit path high in the Austrian Alps held my gaze, my eyes followed the mountains to infinity and beyond where my penis hung, a ghostly reflection spoiling the snow covered sunlit slopes. I sprang back in shock into my chair only to jump back up again at the feel of cold leather on my bare behind.
I stared at the door. No that way led to madness, but I couldn’t resist, I had to do it. And so as if drawn by some command I opened the door and walked out into the outer office. Here I was, stark naked, exposed in such a public place. How about if I tried Kathy’s office. No that was a dare too far. But once the thought was in my heads I knew I had to go for it. I stepped forward but was stopped by the rattle of a key in the lock. My heart pounded as I scurried back to the shelter of my own office. I looked around; My tie was bout the only serviceable item of clothing left, but that hid nothing. What if it was Carol, what would I say to her, how could I explain.
“Hi Pete, it’s only me” said Kathy from the outer office. “She said about an hour”
An hour, it sounded like a year to me.
“Right ho” I replied weakly sitting on my chair. I looked up startled as the door opened. Kathy’s head appeared, she grinned. “Good practice for the naturist wedding”
I gulped but could find nothing to say. “What say you we make a start on the presentation” she suggested
“Er well, I’d rather not in my present state” I replied feebly.
“Oh come on Pete, you’ll have to get used to it sometime” she told me breezily. “tell you what, you get the computer booted up while I just get out of these clothes”
I looked up in panic, but before I could say anything she was gone. I was still staring at the door two minutes later when she walked back in. She wasn’t beautiful by any means and her body was far from perfect, but the package just screamed sex on two legs at me. As she strode purposely towards me I took it all in the small firm breasts framed in the marks from her recently abandoned underwear. The smooth pale skin, the patch of dark pubic hair that thinned from the centre outwards, the firm thighs. She peeked over the edge of the desk.
“Why Peter, I do believe you are pleased to see me” she commented as she placed her firm buttocks on its polished edge. “I don’t think that thing should be exposed for too long.” Her voice was low and husky now “In fact I’ve got a place you can put it” she said sultrily as she opened her legs.
The hormones took over as leapt to my feet. Just to the left of Kathy’s exposed hip I caught sight of Emma’s photograph. She seemed to be looking at me accusingly. I reached forward and placed it face down, Emma shouldn’t watch this. Before I could move further Kathy suddenly said, “No stop, this is wrong” I halted in mid stride, she was of course right, it could only end in tears, along road of illicit sex and subterfuge, which could only end in discovery and a rather nasty divorce. I heaved a sigh of relief. I had escaped by the skin of my teeth
“I can’t do this face to face” Kathy continued firmly. With that she turned around, swept the papers from the desk before replacing them with her bare chest, leaving me with a perfect view of her perfect behind. The hormones kicked in once more, I came to attention and moved forward.
“And Peter” said Kathy “just make sure you get the right hole”
I screeched to halt again. What was that supposed to mean, was she worried bout getting pregnant? That didn’t fit with a fast uncontrolled cresta run a of a shag in the office. I contemplated the orifices before me. The pink high road to the Greek underworld or the moist hairy low most travelled road . Which should I take? Which did she want me to take? A sudden thought came into my mind, what if she had eaten a curry last night. Kath wiggled her hips impatiently, I made my decision and all caution thrown to the wind, the future mortgaged to the present I moved in for the thrill.
“Hello” The word echoed through the outer office like a gunshot down the Khyber pass. Kathy shot up and I fell down rapidly.
“I thought you said she wouldn’t be in” I hissed.
“That’s what she told me” Kathy hissed back “stall her before she comes in”
“Hello Carol, is that you?”
“Yes”
“I thought you wouldn’t be in till later” I shouted
“Swimming practice was cancelled” she replied “Is Kathy in?”
“Yes we’re having a meeting”
“I’m putting the kettle on, do you want some tea?”
“That would be nice”
“How about you, Kathy?”
I turned around, Kathy had disappeared. “She’d love one” I shouted back.
I heard the sound of Carol’s footsteps heading off towards the small kitchen area. I thought briefly of my underpants
Kathy’s head popped up from behind my desk.
“What did you tell her that for you moron” she demanded unsympathetically
“It will buy us some time” I told her
“You’ve got a plan.” An accusation not an inquiry.
“Where are your clothes?”
“In my off………Oh no, if you think I can streak across without Carol seeing me”
“There is a chance” I claimed, knowing that it lay between slim and none.
Kathy wasn’t stupid “no there isn’t; and if you think it’s possible, you go”
“Don’t be stupid I can hardly make it there and back without her seeing me” I retorted. “And I’d rather she saw me naked than wearing your clothes”
“That’s it” said Kathy standing up rapidly and inducing some alluring vibrations in her small breasts. “We’ll tell her the truth”
“What” I was astonished “tell her we were about to bonk each other’s brains out!”
Kathy blushed at the thought of what we could well have been doing at this moment. She brushed past me, I felt her smooth skin, the heat of her body, and bathed in the confidence of somebody who did have a plan. I knew I wasn’t going to like it, and I knew what it was.
“Carol are you there?” she called.
I could hear the clatter of cups in the kitchen. “Just coming she called” Had she not turned up unannounced, I could have been saying the same.
“There’s just one thing” called Kathy, and it was one big thing, well it had been a moment ago.
“We were preparing for the Hunter presentation, and we decided to do it in costume” she paused, “Or not, if you see what you mean”
There was silence in the outer office.
“I see” Carol said carefully, “I have been thinking about that”
“Just tell her to go out” I hissed at Kathy’s well rounded behind. She flapped her hand to shut me up.
“I imagine you are finding it difficult to get staff” Carol continued
‘You’d be surprised’ I thought
“If you need some help I’m up for it” Now I was surprised, but not as surprised as I was going to be.
“Well,” replied Kathy slowly “Are you sure”
“Give me a moment” came the reply
“What did you say that for” I whispered angrily.
“Well what did you expect me to say” she replied testily
“No, and go out shopping for an hour” I replied
“Look, Pete, it was a moment of madness, and something we would come to regret so its better this way.”
I couldn’t have agreed more and I had more pressing matters on my mind than resuming the spiralling downward thread of adultery. Top my current agenda was a reunion with my clothes
“Yes, yes, but if we get rid of her we can get dressed”
But it was too late as the door was already opening to reveal a stark naked Carol. She smiled as she squeezed between us carrying a tray laden with three mugs and a small plate of biscuits. She was a competitive swimmer and had broad shoulders and a wide back, her long muscled thighs led to strong well formed buttocks. I watched as she lay the tray down before sitting on a vacant chair.
“So how far have you got” said
I looked at her, sitting with her shoulders well back emphasising her small breasts with tiny pointed nipples the colour of small rosebuds just about to open. She crossed her long legs and covered her hairless vagina with her hands. Clearly Carol’s plan was the diametrically opposite of the young couple whose wedding we were planning. Take an abnormal situation and act as if you and everyone else were still dressed.
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