The laughter sounded again. This time louder.
“I’m going to go look,” Willy said, walking toward the sound.
“No!” Allistair whispered harshly. “It could be dangerous!”
“Yeah, maybe it’s the notorious laughing snakes. They lure you to them by making laughing sounds then they strike,” Willy said.
“I hate sarcasm,” Allistair said.
“Duly noted,” Willy said.
Willy walked around behind the row of bushes. Allistair watched intently, but Willy did not re-appear.
After several moments, Allistair whispered, “Willy? You okay?”
There was no sound. No movement.
Again, Allistair whispered, “Willy?”
Silence.
Allistair took a deep breath and walked behind the bushes. She found Willy about ten yards away, standing stock still and staring at something. She followed Willy’s gaze and was amazed by what she saw.
Paradise
It was a pool. Not the kind of pool buried in the ground and lined with cement and filled with chlorinated blue water like rich people have in their backyards. This was a natural pool in a river made by a beaver dam. And speaking of beavers, there was a naked woman in the pool. Her breasts floated on top of the water like big pontoons. She was laughing and splashing water at a man.
Willy reckoned they had accidentally run across a couple who were camping. That’s what campers did, right? They lived outdoors and pooped outdoors and bathed outdoors. Willy wasn’t really an outdoorsy type so she didn’t know for sure. But judging by what she’d read and watched on TV, camping appeared to be messy and uncomfortable. She was not a fan.
The bathing woman must have felt Willy’s gaze on her floating breasts. She turned, saw Willy and Allistair, and waved. “Good morning, sisters!”
Willy feebly lifted her fingers in the air and did a tiny baby wave.
The man gestured for them to come in the river. “Come join us!” he said cheerfully.
No way was Willy going to get in the river with those two. They could be serial killers for all she knew. They could be bathing in the river to get rid of the blood splatters from the last two women they had tortured and killed.
“No, thanks,” Willy said.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, do you?” Allistair inquired.
“Paradise,” the woman replied. She lifted one arm and splashed water in her hairy pit.
Au contraire, mon frere. Willy begged to differ. In her paradise all the women shaved their armpits.
“Oookay,” Willy said. She was placating them because they were obviously crazy people and she didn’t want to set them off. She whispered out of the side of her mouth to Allistair, “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
Allistair ignored Willy’s warning and stepped to the edge of the river. “Yes, it’s very nice here but I meant where are we in terms of location? Latitude and longitude coordinates if you happen to have them.”
“Nope,” the man said. “We live far away from the shackles of society.” He waded out of the river toward them. The closer he got to the bank, the more the water level revealed his body and before Willy could look away, she saw his pecker swing back and forth like a pendulum as he walked.
“Jesus God,” Willy muttered. She quickly looked away. But it was too late. The image was now burned into her retinas. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Allistair had also turned away.
The man held out his hand to Willy. “I’m Daryl. That is Nadine.”
Willy looked the man directly in the eyes and forbade herself to see any lower than his mustache. “Nice to meet you. We’re…” She stopped herself. She couldn’t give these people their real names. She thought quickly and said the first two names that popped into her head, “That’s Mary and I’m Joseph.”
“Joseph?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Josephine,” Willy quickly amended. “But you can call me Jo.” She grasped the man’s hand and shook heartily.
“You must be here for the croquet tournament,” Daryl said.
Willy had no idea what he was talking about, but it seemed safer to just agree. “Yep, yep, sure are. Croquet. That’s my thing. Love to play croquet.”
Allistair wrinkled her nose. “I tried to croquet an afghan once. It turned out terrible. I’m not very good at arts and crafts.”
“Croquet,” Willy corrected. “You know with the striped balls and mallets. Not crochet.”
“Oh, croquet. I love croquet,” Allistair said, taking her clue from Willy’s piercing glare.
By now the woman had walked out of the river and was standing before them, naked and dripping wet. Her nipples were as big as dinner plates. “It’s almost breakfast time,” the woman said. “I hope you two are hungry.”
Willy said, “We sure are. Haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.”
“Great,” the woman said. “The dining tent is just over there, we’ll show you the way.”
“Okay,” Allistair said. Her back was turned to the two. “We’ll wait right here while you get dressed.”
Daryl and Nadine laughed. “We don’t bother with all that.”
“With all what?” Willy asked.
“Clothes,” Nadine said. “Clothing is an encumbrance that keeps us from our natural selves. We’re closer to Mother Nature this way.”
“Not even towels?” Allistair asked.
“The sun and wind are our towels,” Daryl said, expansively embracing the air around him, causing his pecker to dance in the wind.
“But won’t little Daryl get cold?” Willy asked.
Daryl laughed and slapped her on the back. “You’re funny. I’m going to like you.”
“Not too much, I hope,” Willy said.
Daryl threw his arm over Willy’s shoulder and Nadine put her arm around Allistair’s waist. They led Willy and Allistair along the riverbank.
“Is everybody going to be naked?” Allistair asked.
“Oh, yes. We’re members of the Paradise Nudist Colony,” Nadine said. “We have eschewed a life of clothes. We believe in letting it all hang out.”
“I see,” Allistair said, wishing she didn’t.
Passion Fruit And Jasmine Flower
The dining tent was an eye-opener. Willy wished she didn’t have 20/20 eyesight. She also wished that nudists took better care of their bodies. The mass of people reminded her of most of the shoppers in the Walmart back home in Arkansas. Except naked.
Willy and Allistair stood in a long, snaking line of naked people that wound its way to the back of the tent where more naked people ladled food onto plates. All she could see was a sea of white, saggy asses. Willy sincerely hoped she wouldn’t upchuck her breakfast before she even got breakfast.
“Mother of God,” Willy whispered. “This view is enough to put you off your feedbag forever.”
Allistair must have felt the same way. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.
“Maybe we can pretend everyone is wearing their underwear. Just like Marsha Brady did when she took her driver’s test,” Willy said.
“That wasn’t Marsha. That was Jan. She had to give a speech and her dad told her to picture the people in their underwear,” Allistair said.
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Willy asked.
“No, but I do know The Brady Bunch. Nick at Night was my best friend.”
“Do you remember the episode where Marsha got hit with a football?”
“I love that one!”
“I always thought Alice was family,” Willy said.
“She dated Sam the butcher.”
“He was her beard,” Willy said. “Anybody could see that.”
To the casual observer, Willy and Allistair appeared to be small-talking as they waited in the breakfast line. But to the trained eye, they were talking about anything but the white elephant in the room. If you could see the thoughts going through both Willy and Allistair’s heads while they talked ab
out The Brady Bunch, it would look like this:
“Maybe we can pretend everyone is wearing their underwear. Just like Marsha Brady did when she took her driver’s test,” Willy said. But she was thinking, “I wonder what Allistair would look like naked.”
“That wasn’t Marsha. That was Jan. She was nervous about giving a speech and her dad told her to picture the people in their underwear,” Allistair said. But she was thinking, “The good thing about nudism is that there are no tan lines.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Willy asked. But she was thinking, “I bet Allistair has really great tits.”
“No, but I do know The Brady Bunch. Nick at Night was my best friend,” Allistair said. But she was thinking, “Do nudists go nude at home or do they only go nude when at a nudist colony?”
“Do you remember the episode where Marsha got a broken nose?” Willy asked. But she was thinking, “I bet Allistair has pink nipples.”
“I love that one!” Allistair exclaimed. But she was thinking, “Nudists have to be careful where they sit.”
“I always thought Alice was family,” Willy said. But she was thinking, “Allistair has a nice ass. I can tell that even with her clothes.”
“She dated Sam the butcher,” Allistair said. But she was thinking, “I hope the food servers are wearing hair nets. And not just on their heads.”
“He was her beard,” Willy said. “Anybody could see that.” But she was thinking, “I want to get into Allistair’s pants. If she was wearing pants, that is.”
Then Allistair said out loud, “Why do they call them nudist colonies? Why aren’t they clubs or resorts? Nudist colony sounds too much like a leper colony. Or the thirteen original colonies.”
They reached the front of the line and each took a plate. The first food server’s penis dangled about two inches away from the pan of scrambled eggs. “Eggs?” he asked.
“No,” Willy and Allistair said quickly in unison.
“Do you have any bacon?” Willy asked.
“We have Facon. We’re all vegetarians,” the man said.
“What a coincidence,” Willy said. “I’m a vagetarian.”
“What’s a vagetarian eat?” the man asked.
Allistair elbowed Willy in the ribs before she could answer. Which was probably for the best. They moved down the line and each got a small bowl of what appeared to be gruel, but the server said was oatmeal. It wasn’t the best breakfast item in the buffet, but it was the only thing that wasn’t near a dangling penis.
Willy guided them to a table where two women sat. They both had amazing breasts. Willy had an internal compass that sought out nice breasts and magnetically pulled her in their direction. Willy and Allistair sat across the dining table from each other and dipped their spoons into the oatmeal.
“Hi!” one of the women said. She had peach-colored nipples. “My name’s Jasmine Flower and this is my sister Passion Fruit. You two are new here, huh?”
“How’d you know?” Allistair asked.
Jasmine Flower giggled. “You’re still wearing clothes.”
“I’m acclimating first,” Willy said. “Don’t want to shock the whole system.”
Passion Fruit said, “It took us a couple of hours to get nude, too.” She had nipples the color of dark roasted coffee.
Willy couldn’t help it that she noticed and catalogued nipple color. She was a connoisseur of nipples. The Eskimos had two hundred words for snow; Willy had two hundred colors for nipples. It was an art.
“So how did you all come to be here?” Willy asked.
Jasmine Flower answered, “Our father is a Baptist preacher.” She seemed to think that explained everything.
Passion Fruit elaborated, “He’s ultra-conservative and he made us wear dresses all the time.”
“So having to wear a dress turned you into a nudist?” Allistair inquired.
“No, it was his attitude,” Jasmine Flower replied.
“Toward dresses or clothes in general?” Allistair asked.
“It was his hatred of the female body and its accoutrements,” Jasmine Flower said.
“You have very unusual names,” Willy said. “Any Baptist who gave you those names can’t be all bad.”
“Oh, he didn’t name us,” Passion Fruit said.
“Oh no,” Jasmine Flower said. “We named ourselves. When we first came here, we decided to sleep on it and the first thing we saw upon awakening would be our new names. I saw a jasmine flower and she saw a passion fruit.”
“Huh,” Willy said. “I guess you’re lucky you’re not named Two Dogs Fucking.”
They all laughed. Even Allistair.
Willy finished her oatmeal and was still hungry. “Excuse me,” she said to the group. “I’m going back for seconds.”
The line was gone so Willy walked right up to the oatmeal lady, held out her bowl and said in her best cockney accent, “May I have some more, please.”
“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” the woman said. She had raspberry nipples. She plunked a ladle of oatmeal in Willy’s bowl.
When Willy got back to the table, Allistair, Jasmine Flower, and Passion Fruit had their heads together whispering. “What’s up?”
Allistair looked up. Her eyes were bright and shiny. “We have a plan.”
“We?” Willy said, digging into her oatmeal.
“Jasmine Flower and Passion Fruit and me,” Allistair said. “We concocted a plan about how to hide us.”
Willy asked with her mouth full of oatmeal, “You told them?”
“Yes. We know the Man is after you,” Jasmine Flower said.
“The Man?” Willy asked.
“For not paying our income tax because we don’t believe in war,” Allistair said.
“Oh,” Willy said, realizing Allistair had told them a lie. “We’re kind of like the modern day Thoreau. So we need to hide out until we can go into deep cover and go to ground and go underground and leave the country for a country without extradition like…” here Willy got stuck. She looked to Allistair for help.
“We’re thinking Croatia or Kazakhstan,” Allistair said.
“Croatia?” Passion Fruit asked.
“Yeah sure, there’s lots of…” Willy faltered.
“Beaches and the cost of living is really low,” Allistair finished.
“So what’s this big plan?” Willy said.
“We’re going to pull an Edgar Allen Poe,” Allistair said.
Willy was still woefully in the dark. “What does that mean?”
“We’re going to hide right out in the open like in the story The Purloined Letter,” Allistair said.
Not being a big Poe fan, Willy was still lost. “I don’t get it.”
“We’re going to be nudists,” Allistair said. “That’s the last thing they’ll expect. And to clothed people nudists all look alike.”
“What???” Willy said. “I’m not taking my clothes off and parading around naked.”
“The parade’s not until Saturday,” Jasmine Flower said. “And you don’t have to be in it if you don’t want to be.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Willy said. She looked pointedly at Allistair. “You’re okay with being naked?”
Allistair sighed. “Not really. But it’s one of those face your fear things, you know? I mean look at everybody here.”
“I don’t have to look at them again,” Willy said. “I already saw them.”
“They’re empowered. They have great self-esteem. They’re not worried about being overweight or having pudgy thighs or saggy breasts. They love their bodies.”
Willy was astounded. Allistair seemed so proper and ladylike and yet here she was ready to bare all to save their asses—their soon to be exposed asses. Could this adventure get any weirder? She thought not. She hoped not. She intensely desired not. Willy did a mental inventory of her own bodily faults. Her tits were still mostly where they’d started. Her ass wasn’t too horrible. She had muffin tops, though. On the plu
s side, she had nice ankles and calves.
Allistair smiled. “I think it would be challenging and empowering. I want to do it. How about you?”
“Okay, I’ll become a nudist,” Willy said. “On one condition.”
“What?” Allistair asked.
“I get to carry a towel.”
“Why a towel?” Allistair asked.
“To sit on. I’m not putting my bare ass where others have been,” Willy stated.
The Naked Truth
“Are you naked?” Willy asked.
“Yes. Are you?” Allistair asked back.
Jasmine Flower and Passion Fruit had brought them to their tent with orders to go inside and get naked. Willy and Allistair had gone to opposite corners of the tent, and turned their backs to each other as they disrobed. Now both were completely nude, but afraid to turn around.
“I’m naked as a jaybird. Though I never understood that phrase. Is a jaybird naked? It has feathers right? How can a bird with feathers be naked?” Willy babbled. She picked up a towel and wrapped it around her torso but kept her back to Allistair.
“Are you talking a lot because you’re nervous?” Allistair asked.
“Who’s nervous? I’m certainly not nervous. You’re the one who’s nervous. You’re projecting your nervousness onto me. Lots of people do that. I saw an episode on Dr. Phil once where there were all these women and they kept projecting their own faults onto their daughters. It was quite enlightening. I bet we could find it on YouTube if you wanted to watch it sometime,” Willy blah blah’ed.
“If you’re not nervous why are you wearing a towel?” Allistair asked.
“How’d you know I was…” Willy turned. She saw Allistair standing naked before her. The light from the tent opening was backlighting her. She was gorgeous. Willy had never in her life seen anything so breathtakingly beautiful as Allistair in nothing but her all-together.
Her nipples were cotton candy pink.
Willy didn’t even know she’d been holding her breath until she exhaled. “You’re so…”
“Naked?” Allistair said.
Kiss & Tell Page 20