Good gravy it was hot! Oh, sure, there's hot, but then there's the hot you get in the summer in the Midwest. If you didn't grow up here, you wouldn't know what I'm talking about! It's the kind of hot where the humidity is higher than the temperature. Your clothes stick to you. The air doesn't move. You keep hoping to find shade on the trail ahead, but when you get in the shade, it isn't any better. So far, this Independence Day weekend was the hottest weekend of the year. It was perfect weather for the plans we'd made.
I thought of lots of things as I pushed my way through the weeds, barely making out the long-unused trail through the trees and scrub ahead.
Swarms of gnats flickered in the sunlight. A helicopter-like dragonfly hovered, flitted briefly, and hovered again over the path before me. A monarch butterfly fluttered over the milkweed. To my right, a crow or starling lifted into the blue, cloudless sky. A jet left a white vapor trail high overhead. I wiped my sweaty brow and pressed on.
The mugginess cried for a good summer shower to clear and cool the air. But then when the sun came back, the oppressive humidity would return worse than before. The forecast called for hot, humid, then hotter, and even more of the same. One forecaster said there might be a slight chance of some distant "heat lightning" that evening, but it caused me no alarm.
My shirt was a thin nylon fishing model from one of the big online outfitters. It was white to reflect the heat, but so thin it was nearly transparent. Even that felt hot. I'd already fully unbuttoned it. I'd have taken it off completely, except it just seemed like too much work to drop and re-lift the heavy backpack on my shoulders.
I was glad I'd gone commando under the lightweight hiking kilt covering my hips. The swishing of the hem at least made a little air movement over my naked junk as my hiking boots trudged onward toward my goal. Sarah wanted me to shave off my pubes awhile back, and I'd liked the result, so down there I was still completely bald, and I had to admit, right now it felt pretty darned good! I was careful to give a wide berth to poison ivy or stinging nettles, and my minimal clothing was certainly scant protection from thorns or bug bites as well.
It really didn't make too much difference. I'd be stripping off completely as soon as I forded the stream and reached the island. I was looking forward to several glorious days of being stark naked in nature, the way God had intended.
Sarah and I had planned this trip together for months. I'd met her at the start of my sophomore year at college, and by the holidays, we'd become an item. Together we did all the boyfriend-girlfriend things. The shaving was just one of them. This summer's nude campout was to be the highlight of our brief vacation time together. The rest of the summer, except for this one-week interlude, we lived with our parents, a thousand miles apart.
We'd scanned the catalogs and selected just the right tent, a nylon dome. It was probably too big for just the two of us, but the price online was right. She insisted that we get a quality air mattress, even if it was a little heavier to carry. And she heartily approved the one "double-wide" sleeping bag we'd take for our nocturnal arrangements. All the other stuff I'd ordered also cost a little more, but the tab was worth it each time I fantasized about her jutting bare breasts, succulent nipples and naked backside, her long tanned, toned legs leading to that beautiful trimmed blonde landing strip, and ... well, it was a glorious exercise in daydreaming. I always got hard just thinking about it!
Of course the best part of the fantasy was our agreement that once we crossed to the island, we'd jettison all our clothes and spend our entire time together bare balled, bare-boobed, and butt naked, no matter what!
We'd only take the minimal clothes we wore, no underwear, no spares, (except maybe some extra socks, ) a couple towels, and of course, all our food and camping gear. Maybe we could even catch a couple fish for a fresh meal or two. River water was crystal-clear drinkable-pure, and there were plenty of places to hike, swim, and just enjoy nature. Of course, we also planned to enjoy lots and lots of each other! I guess that part got me a little carried away when I ordered, but I knew we'd be comfortable, cozy, and not too heavily burdened, as we'd share the load between our matching packs and hiking frames.
The problem was, suddenly Sarah was now my EX-girlfriend. With the trek already outfitted, I eagerly anticipated the coming summer, yet as finals loomed, she seemed more distant. She said she was just excited about going home to see her parents during June, and was looking forward to getting back with some of her high-school friends in the town where she grew up. She assured me after a month at home, she'd fly the thousand miles to meet me for our Independence Day outing.
The month of June seemed like a lifetime. But as I counted down the days, and fantasized through the lonely nights, I noticed I always called her; she never called me. I guessed she was just busy with her family and friends, and sometimes forgot.
Then, a week ago, the letter came. She told me she'd reconnected with her high school sweetheart. She was sorry, she said, but it was magic, and he'd even invited her to go river rafting over July 4 with his family in Western Colorado.
I guess a week in the nude with me on a tiny Midwest island just couldn't compete with the grandeur of the Grand Canyon of the Gunnison. Besides, she wrote, she was transferring to a college nearer to home in the fall, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us to try to maintain a long-distance relationship for the next several years. She'd known about the transfer for at least four months, but hadn't known how to tell me. And that was that! Sarah and I were through!
I tried to call, but this time she wouldn't even talk with me!
Well, fuck her! I'd already spent the money. I had all the gear, I'd made all the plans, and I was going nude camping, even if I had to carry all the damned stuff out to the island and spend my time there by myself. But as one consolation, I told my parents I'd only be gone for three or four days. No sense spending too much time wallowing in self-pity! I also purposely omitted telling them the part about going nude.
The timing was perfect. Mom and dad had already scheduled a road trip of their own, a couple weeks to visit my aunt and uncle at their cabin in the wilds of Northern Michigan, "far away from cell phones and civilization," so camping or not, for the next weeks I'd be on my own anyway. We bid each other goodbye at our driveway, and they headed north, while I headed to the nearest grocery to fill my larder for my camping trip.
Getting what I'd want should have been no problem, but finding a parking spot at the market was. Apparently everybody needed to stock up for the Independence Day holiday, and I circled the lot twice before I found a good space. But before I could turn in, some jackass in an older full-sized pickup cut me off and screeched into the spot before me. To add insult to injury, the greasy haired jerk gave me a gleeful smirk, and flipped me off!
I took a few breaths to calm myself, wrote him off as just another smart-ass, and finally found a spot at the far periphery of the lot. My supplies took just a couple minutes, and once again, I was on my way my island hideaway.
I'd been to Whipple Island before. I don't think too many people except some of my buddies and I had. Heck, I don't even know if anybody besides us even called it "Whipple Island." It's about a 6 or 7 acre thumb that juts out where the river meandered during a flood years ago. It's a little higher than the surrounding fields and forests, and now there's a town reservoir upstream, so the river hasn't really flooded in decades.
But it really is an island. On the one side, there's a small channel that cuts it off from the mainland. Unless they open the reservoir gates in a heavy storm, that channel is probably only ten or twelve feet wide, and usually not very deep, so if you know where, it's pretty easy to jump across between stepping stones without even getting wet.
On the other side, the main channel is probably seventy-five or a hundred feet across. And in places that side gets pretty deep. Unless the floodgates are open, the water just lazily burbles downstream. The island has plenty of trees so it's pretty secluded. There are several places we even skinny-dipped The shoreline is shaded, with lots of good fishing holes. All in all, it would have been the perfect spot for my nude getaway with Sarah. Now it would be mine alone.
The Whipple family owned the island, and probably another couple hundred acres west of it. That's why it got its name. Tre Whipple and I were in the same grade and joined Boy Scouts together. That's how I learned about camping, outdoor cooking, and first aid and stuff. His name is really "Jerry Whipple, III." Or I guess it's really "Gerald Whipple, The Third." That's why everybody calls him "Tre."
His dad is "Jerry Whipple, Junior," or just "Junior Whipple." He owns the local Ford-New Holland Implement dealership, which he inherited from Tre's grandfather, Gerald Whipple, Senior. Senior started out as a farmer, but found there was more money in selling tractors than running them. So he retired from farming, moved into town, and later leased part of the old farm to a couple other guys who graze dairy cattle and grow hay to feed them. The rest of it, including the island, is just trees and natural meadows.
With Junior Whipple running the dealership, Mr. Whipple, Senior, had plenty of time, so he volunteered as our local scoutmaster, teaching merit badges, knots, and all kinds of stuff. Us guys all loved him! Even through he was getting kind of up there, he'd take us camping out to this island he owned on summer weekends. He said working with us scouts kept him young!
But he couldn't stay young forever. Just a couple days after he presented Tre and me with our Eagle Scout Awards, Mr. Whipple died of a heart attack, and with no new leadership, the scout troop and our Whipple Island campsite just kind of just fell by the wayside. With him gone, I'd even heard the old farm might soon be made into another housing development. But it was still the same now. I'd left my little green Ranger pickup right beside the abandoned farmhouse when I'd started my hike.
Across the acreage the trees and weeds continued to grow, and on the island there remained an old, stone-lined fire pit, a couple stacks of dry seasoned wood, and even a flat spot or two where you could easily pitch a good sized tent. I remembered the layout well. But it was obvious from the unused trail that nobody much went there anymore, so it would be just perfect for my naked holiday solitude.
Almost everybody in town makes a big deal out of the Fourth of July. This year it was on a weekend, so it was an even bigger deal. I'm Maryanne Benton, and my father is the County Sheriff, so I knew he'd be pretty busy, cracking down on drunks, confiscating illegal fireworks, and making sure everybody stayed safe in the traffic jam when they tried to get back to town after the big community fireworks show along the river.
Dad and I've live alone since mom died. I knew he wouldn't have much time for me today, but that's all right, because my best friend, Linda Montgomery, had invited me over to her place for her family's big pool party and barbeque, and to watch the fireworks from their house, which is right along the river. While I'm not really into swimming, I was looking forward to it 'cause I hadn't seen Linda since graduation night and a lot of our friends would be there.
Linda's a year older than me, and I'm 16. I'll be a senior, while Linda just graduated high school this year, along with her foster brother, Raymond Reynolds. He's older than her by almost another year, but he graduated the same time. Daddy knew their folks pretty well, so he was glad I was going to be safe, spending the day with them. Linda's mom was a County Court Judge, and they worked together a lot to put bad guys away. Her dad was a lawyer too, so they could afford a nice big riverside house, an in-ground pool, and still had a lot of money besides.
I loved Linda like a sister, her parents were cool, but Ray was kind of ... different. He'd just moved in with them and started at our school after Spring Break. I still didn't know him very well, but Linda liked him, so I guessed he was probably all right. But he wasn't really what I was looking for. I mean, first of all, he was really hairy. He had really coarse dark hair all over his body. I could tell, because he hardly ever buttoned much of his shirt. And I think he used something in it to make it look greasy, but maybe it was natural. I don't know.
You know how rumors go? Well, someone said they'd heard someone else say that he got into some kind of trouble somewhere and got expelled, and he somehow ended up in the foster kid program. I didn't know any details, and Linda never told me, but apparently to get him back in school, and to help him get straightened out, the Montgomery's took him in as THEIR foster kid. Daddy said that could be. Judge Montgomery and her husband were always trying to help people like that.
They now called Ray their son, and Linda called him, "big brother." He asked me out just before school ended, and Linda said he had a crush on me, so I said, "Well, Ok..."
We took in a movie one night just before finals, and I guess we had a good time. What I remember most though, was he was kind of like an octopus. His hands seemed to be everywhere, always trying to touch me. Well, I finally had to tell him to please, just keep his hands to himself. For the rest of the date he did, but he was really quiet after that. When I told her, Linda just laughed and said. "He's a 'touchy-feely" kind of guy."
Linda and Ray both left town right after their graduation. I said the Montgomery's have money. As a present, they gave their kids an all expenses trip to England, France and Spain. It was planned for Linda all along, but when Ray moved in, they added him too, so he'd feel more part of the family.
This party was supposed to be a welcome home for them, a Happy 4th for the neighbors, and a Big Summer Blowout for everybody involved. The Montgomery's had invited just about anybody who was anybody to come.
Even most of those who weren't invited would be right nearby. Linda's family lived just downstream from Riverside Park, where everybody else went to watch the fireworks. In the afternoon, the park board set up a flatbed as a stage for music on the riverbank, people brought picnic baskets, played games, and sunned or swam until it got dark and the fireworks started.
Linda really wanted to see me, and I was glad to hear from her, since we'd been apart so long, so she and Ray drove over and picked me up before lunch. That way we could have some time together to catch up before the party started. She said it was casual, and since it was becoming a typical hot, muggy summer day, I put on my swimsuit and a pair of jeweled foam flip-flops.
As a cover-up for the modest one-piece, I pulled on a bright yellow halter-style cotton sundress. It was completely backless above my waist, and depending on how tightly I tied the stings, the "V" neckline and sides plunged below my boobs. It also had an above-the-knee hem, but of course, with the suit on under it, nothing could possibly show. As an afterthought, on the way out the door, I grabbed a fluffy beach towel. Dumb me! I accidentally left my cell phone on my dresser on the charger.
Like I said, I don't really like to swim. I mean, I can do it, but mostly I just stay in the shallows and splash around, but that's about it. For years I had nightmares about drowning, being trapped under cold, dark, turbulent water, while an unrelenting current tumbled me endlessly downstream. And, Oh! My! Gawd! I'm still absolutely terrified of thunderstorms.
It's probably because of what happened when I was four. Mom was a nurse working a late shift one really stormy night. Normally I crawled into bed with my parents when there was a storm, but that night it was just dad and me. Mom called to say she was going to wait to see if the weather cleared before she tried to drive home, and dad told her to stay safe.
But awhile later the phone rang again, and since he was chief deputy back then, dad had to answer. Some drunk had run another car off the road; right on the Main Avenue Bridge, and that car had gone through the railing and into the river. Since mom wasn't home yet, dad wrapped a pink vinyl raincoat over my jammies and took me with him in his patrol car.
When we got to the bridge, there were flashing lights and people milling all around in the rain. I could see a big hole in the railing, and down below, spotlights from fire trucks showed a swirling horror of dark, muddy, rushing water. I now know they'd opened the reservoir floodgates, but then, small as I was, I was amazed at the power of it all. And then I saw it! One of the spotlights beamed on a small white car, with only part of the roof, the trunk and the back bumper showing. Through the murky water, I could also see an open driver's door.
Dad rolled down his window to talk with somebody who'd seen what happened, and between the flashes of lightning and the thunder, I remember the guy saying, "She was alive when the car landed. She tried to get out, but the current caught her, and she was just tumbled away into the dark. There's no way she could have survived that watery hell!"
I looked from the car in the rushing water below back up to daddy, and his face was wet. At first I thought it was from the rain through his open window. So I asked, "Daddy, who was tumbled away?"
He grabbed me and pulled me to him tightly, and I then realized it wasn't rain on his face; my daddy was crying. And suddenly I knew all about the little white car in the river below. "It was your mommy, sweetie," Daddy sobbed. "Your mommy was tumbled away!"
As soon as I crossed to the island, I dropped my pack frame, shucked my shirt, and stretched to get the kinks out. I wasn't in bad shape, but this was still work. I hadn't planned to carry ALL the gear for this trek. There were supposed to be two of us. I had it all planned. But those plans literally went down the river. Here I was, all by myself, wondering how much fun Sarah was having rafting out west with her old boyfriend instead of sweating here in Midwest with me.
If anything, the weather had gotten muggier since I'd started down the trail. The mugginess matched my mood. At least there was a bit of haze to mute the sunshine. If I got the tent set up soon, I'd have time to cook a couple hot dogs from my grub bag, drink one of the sodas I'd carried while it was still cold, and blaze a trail to the top of the island before it got too dark. If I could find a good place to sit, I'd have a great view past the Montgomery's place, to see the fireworks at Riverside Park, a ways up on the other side of the river. Then I'd have to pick my way back the trail I'd made by flashlight after the show. It might be a little tough in the dark, but hey, how lost can you get on a 6 acre island?
Standing there sweating wasn't getting anything done. I looked around just to be sure I was completely alone, and then with just a bit of hesitation, took a deep breath, unsnapped my kilt, and stepped out of it ... Other than my boots and socks, I was now naked as the day I was born. And I planned to stay that way until time to go home. I folded the kilt with my discarded shirt, and stuffed them into the top of my pack
Perhaps the naughtiness of sudden outdoor nudity, the breeze on my bare bod, or the warm sun shining on my privates, caused my cock to stir. It wasn't a full erection by any means, but it felt really good. I stroked it a few times just for the thrill, and then hoisted my burden to go make camp on Whipple Island.
Part of the excitement was the danger of being caught with no clothes. I'd promised myself I wouldn't put anything on unless I absolutely had to. A small plane buzzed high overhead. I wondered if they could see me. But from way up there, even if they did, what could they possibly do?
It reminded me of my buddy Tre, whose family owned this land. As a kid he had a room full of model planes. He got a pilot's license before he could even drive. And while I went off to study forestry in college, he got himself appointed to the Air Force Academy.
When I planned the trip, I'd e-mailed him for permission to hike here and he said, "Sure!" But even though we were buds, I never used the word "naked" with him either.
Sarah and I had always used the term "nekkid." Some comedian said, "'Naked' meant you weren't wearing any clothes while 'nekkid' meant you weren't wearing clothes, and you were up to something!" Damned, and damned again! I had hoped to spend the time here getting up to lots of things with Sarah.
The thought flashed through my mind that maybe she'd fall in the Gunnison and drown. Later somebody would stumble across her bloated and decomposing corpse along the rocky bank. I could almost imagine the scene. It would serve her right. But, no, that wasn't nice. I shouldn't wish her harm. I didn't really hate Sarah. But I sure missed her, and I sure as anything was disappointed!
Ray drove, and I straddled the shifter between him and Linda, on the bench seat of the older pickup Mr. Montgomery let him drive. When I got in, Ray tried to put his arm around my shoulders, but quickly found he had to take it down to shift gears. I didn't like it there anyway. His arm hair tickled my back, since I was wearing my backless sundress.
While we pulled out our driveway, nothing happened, but after Ray shifted a couple times on the street, he casually took his hand off the shift knob and let his palm come to rest on my bare left knee, almost like it was an accident.
I moved my leg, and didn't say anything, and he took his hand away. I don't know if Linda noticed. A few stop signs later, he very casually did it again.
Again I moved my knee away, but faster, and this time said, "Ray!!?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Maryanne," Ray apologized. "It was an accident!" Then he added, " But I must say, you really do have nice legs!"
"Well, thank you." I blushed. "It's nice of you to notice."
"Oh, Ray notices a lot of things about girls," Linda chimed in. "You should have seen him ogling all the French girls on the Riviera!"
"I wasn't 'ogling.'" Ray retorted.
"Sure you were!" Linda laughed. "Ray didn't know where to look. He was like a bobble-head doll! Everyone goes topless and wears little tiny thongs on the beaches over there. You should have seen him! It was SO funny!"
"Linda!!!" Now it was Ray's turn to blush. But then I realized what Linda had said.
"Oh-my-god, Linda, YOU didn't go topless, did you???" I turned wide-eyed toward my friend on the passenger side.
"Welllll..." Linda looked kind of sheepish, and turned a little red herself. Not easy to do with her golden-bronze tan.
"She sure did!" Ray winked at me. "Like she said, everybody does it! You should have seen her! My little sister had some of the nicest tits over there! Now they're some of the nicest tits over here. 'Course I haven't seen yours for comparison!"
"Ray!!!" Linda and I both shouted at the same time.
"Well, I haven't seen 'em YET," he laughed, "Not that I wouldn't mind looking and comparing anytime you'd let me!" He leered at my cleavage down my yellow sundress.
"Keep your eyes on the ROAD!" Linda tried to smack the back of his head, but missed, and with her arm behind me, bumped me forward into Ray's arm as he reached again for the shifter. He casually moved his hand back to my knee. Rather than argue, this time I just kept my mouth shut since we were almost to their house anyway. But as we pulled up the long winding drive, and he downshifted, I noticed each time his hand returned to my leg, it was a little father up, and he was slowly pushing my dress up higher and higher.
"Thank you for the ride!" My voice dripped sarcasm as I pointedly lifted his hand from halfway up my inner thigh, then even more pointedly dropped it limply into his own lap.
"You're welcome!" He said condescendingly. "I'll see your four ... I mean, you two, later! I have to go back into town to help dad get more supplies."
"Ray, behave!" Linda admonished as we climbed out of the cab. Ray gave me an exaggerated "lecher" look, hit reverse, popped the clutch, and squealed the rear tires as he smoked a patch of burned rubber several yards down the Montgomery's driveway.
"Daddy's going to be so pissed about that!" Linda mused watching the truck recede. Then she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me though the door and upstairs toward her room. "Oh well, come on in." she giggled, "We've got SO much to talk about before anyone gets home. Let's get this party started!"
I plopped down on the bed, crossed my legs under me, and starred at Linda like she was someone I'd never seen. "Tell me you didn't really!" I gasped.
"Didn't really what?" She played the picture of innocence. "Oh, you mean go topless?"
"Well, did you?"
She looked around conspiratorially. "Yeah!" She smirked. "Of course!"
"Oh! My! GAWD! Linda!!! ... What was it like?"
"Well..." she began rummaging through a basket of clothes on her closet floor, not really looking at me as she spoke. "I was kind of nervous at first. I thought everybody would be looking at me. But then I realized, like I said, just about everybody does it, and if you don't, then you stand out even more. I had to ditch my old one-piece, so I thought, what the heck, nobody knows me, so I bought this little thong in the hotel shop, and..."
She turned and held up a microscopic scrap of orange fabric in a kind of triangular shape, with a thin string at each corner. A huge smile lit her face as she waited for my reaction.
"That's ALL you wore? In PUBLIC???" I gasped at the implication.
"Well, just on the beach ... That and a LOT of sunscreen! I had a sundress, kind of like yours. I wore it on the streets and when we went into restaurants and stuff. After the first day, I got a spray-on tan, so I wouldn't look like all the tourists with un-tanned titties."
She whipped her t-shirt over her head exposing her braless boobs, deep bronze, and with no tan lines. "After while, it gets really comfortable to go without a bra, especially when it's hot and humid like this!" She said, absently rubbing the under curve of her breasts, holding them briefly, then letting them drop to their natural state. "You should try it! It's cool, and it's fun!"
"You went topless in front of your own BROTHER????"
"Well, he's my foster brother, and he's not allowed to touch me, but, hell yeah! It's no big deal! He's a guy, and I wanted to see how he'd react!"
"It was a good reaction. But I'm not sure if it was from looking at me, or every other girl on the beach. And there were hundreds of them! He tried to act cool, but even with his dark sunglasses, I could tell he was looking!" Linda giggled as she pulled off her shorts. "He got a hard on! Of course like all the European guys, Ray was wearing a really tight Speedo, so you could tell exactly what he thought! Some guys were wearing even less!"
I tried to imagine hairy Ray wearing a Speedo. The image I got was just SO totally gross!
Beneath her shorts, Linda was wearing just a bright green thong; about the same miniscule size as the orange scrap she'd showed me. She had no tan lines down there either. She tossed her shorts into the laundry. "There, that's good! Now I feel a LOT better!" she said. "Here ... your turn."
Linda took a small box off her dresser and handed it to me. It had a delicate, fancy ribbon around it. "I picked that up for you. Figured I should get something for my best friend while I was away."
"Well ... you didn't have to ... but thanks," I stammered as I carefully pulled off the ribbon. "What... ?"
Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a tiny red string thong just like the green and orange ones Linda had.
"I thought the red would go better with your dark hair." Linda explained as she tugged at the knot on my sundress. "Come on, try it on!"
"I can't wear that!" I gaped at the bright fabric in confusion. "It isn't decent!"
Linda twirled around showing me her nearly naked backside, then struck a hand on hip with pelvis-canted pose. "What's the matter, don't you think I look hot? Come on, you've got a better bod than I do! Just try it on, you'll love it!"
"There's no way I'm going topless. My dad would kill me!"
"Chicken!" Linda laughed, and handed me a paper bag. "Here! I know we can't go topless around here, so I also got the matching tops to go with these for when I brought 'em home! Come on, try it on at least here in my room. You don't have to wear it outside if you don't want to."
I pulled out another tiny set of red triangles with strings, obviously meant to barely cover my nipples, and maybe even parts of my breasts. I looked up as Linda strapped on her own tiny bra, in the same shade of green. I had to admit though nearly naked, she actually looked really good.
"You know you really need to put that on!" She said snapping the elastic of my year-old maillot. "This old fashioned burqa will never do! What's the matter, don't you like my gift?"
"But I..." I fortified my resolve. "I really appreciate you thinking of me, but ... I'm not going to wear it out of this room!"
"Try it, you'll like it!" Linda joked, mimicking a funny old TV ad we'd seen in media class. I think she forgot the last line was: "So I tried it: Thought I was gonna DIE!" And as I looked at the tiny triangles in front of me, I too thought I would die of embarrassment if I ever wore anything like that. But then, there Linda stood, right in front of me, nearly naked, but bronzed and beautiful, wearing the identical tiny pieces of fabric, only her suit was in shimmering green. And to myself, I chuckled. She was right, though I wasn't nearly as tall, I did have a better figure than her.
"Oh, what the heck," I giggled. I guess it wouldn't hurt to try it on once, just for fun.
I tugged down my one-piece, and tried to hold the bottom part of the new suit while tying the strings around my hips. Linda and I had seen each other naked hundreds of times in the locker room, at sleepovers and stuff, so getting undressed in her room was no big deal. But trying to tie the strings on this little thong was no easy task.
"Here, let me help," she offered, but then stood back shaking her head as she starred at my crotch in horror. "Oh, no, no, NO! This will NEVER do!"
"What?" I tried to look down to the object of her disdain. "What's wrong?"
"Your bush!" she said. "Maryanne, you have a wild and unruly bush, and I'm afraid it's just going to have to go!"
I'd trimmed myself down there pretty regularly when I shaved my legs, but I do have dark brown hair, and I suddenly realized there was just no way the tiny scrap of bottom could contain all of my curly pubes without a significant amount spilling over the top and out the sides.
"What should I do?" I innocently asked.
"Do what I did!" Linda grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her bathroom while cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, "I'll fix you my pretty, and your little pussy too!"
Before I could react she shot my crotch full of foamy cream from an aerosol can. "If you've never shaved yourself, just wait! You won't believe how sexy and smooth you'll feel! Here, sit down and I'll take care of this. Shaves are free, but hot towels are fifty cents!"
She pushed me back onto the toilet lid and rummaged through a vanity drawer until she found a new disposable razor. "I'll get the bulk of this jungle, but you'll have to do the cleanup yourself, I'm not really into girls! Now spread your legs and hold still."
Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom with a totally bald beaver. I have to admit, it felt strange, but really smooth and sexy. And I couldn't believe how I totally hot I felt when Linda tied the tiny thong over it, with plenty of bare, hairless skin showing where only thick dark curls had grown before. The thong was unlined. And I also realized I was starting to get just a little wet. I hoped Linda didn't notice. But my nipples gave me away.
"This suit is just legal," she assured me, "And I should know; my mother's the judge. But I gotta warn you, it will do absolutely nothing to hide those nips if they keep sticking out like that." She giggled. "OMG, I think that'll be even sexier than going topless!"
"I can't believe your mother lets you wear something like this!" I felt unbelievably bare and exposed. "I mean, I could see if it was just at home, but with people coming over?"
"Of course, 'with people coming over!' I got her one too, and she loves it. She may be the county judge, but she's not a prude! And this is no big deal; we even went to a completely nude beach in Europe. Come on; let's go for a swim before everybody gets here. You'll see how great it feels!"
Before I could object, Linda dragged me downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the patio door to their family pool. I looked around, but couldn't see anybody. Apparently Ray and his parents still hadn't gotten home. Even so, I tried to stay as covered as possible.
"Just be careful the strings are tight enough when you dive in," Linda warned. "Otherwise you could have a 'wardrobe malfunction' and show a lot more than you want."
"I'm already showing more than I want!" I objected, but she didn't hear. She'd gracefully knifed into the pool, gliding halfway across before standing in waist-deep water. Her dripping breasts emerged totally exposed and bare.
"Oops!" She giggled innocently. "See what I mean?" She swam back toward me, making no effort to cover herself, and instead tossed her wet top onto the concrete deck at my feet. "Take yours off too. Don't be a coward. You can always put it back on when anybody comes home. When it's just us, we swim naked around here anyway." To demonstrate, she pulled the strings at her hips, and plopped her thong onto the concrete as well. "Come on in, the water's great!"
I grasped the handrails, and hesitantly eased myself down the ladder, catching my breath as the cool water collided with the summer heat and humidity on my skin. By the time I reached the bottom rung, Linda had already untied my top and tossed up it onto a lounge chair out of reach. I instinctively covered the ties at my hips to keep them safe from her teasing hands.
"I feel naked enough already, thank you," I said. "Don't push me too far too fast, OK?"
"Well, alright, suit yourself, or unsuit yourself as the case may be," she giggled.Linda backstroked lazily, her breasts glistening in the sun. "Hey, I'll race you to the waterslide." Before I could respond, she'd turned and splashed merrily away.
Over the next half hour or so, I dog paddled, she swam, and we just talked and laughed, as we bobbed and splashed in the cooling waters of the pool. I'd never swum nearly naked before and the cool rippling waters felt great against my almost totally bare skin. Linda outlined her exciting vacation abroad, told me about hearing Big Ben in London, seeing the guards at Buckingham Palace, the Eiffel Tower, and watching a bullfight in Spain. I bemoaned my being stuck in a small town with no excitement, except for one single fireworks show, which just happened to be tonight. Before long, I'd pretty much gotten comfortable and forgotten how nearly naked I was.
Our reverie was interrupted when a male voice shouted, "Hey you two, get out of there and help me carry this stuff in from the truck."
I looked up in shock to see Ray standing at the opposite edge of the pool by the sliding kitchen door. I felt like he was staring directly at my chest, with a wry, evil grin.
Linda casually swam over and retrieved her suit from by his feet, tying it on before climbing out of the water. I stood at the opposite end of the pool frozen in panic, my arms desperately trying to cover my bare breasts as they bobbed just below the surface.
Ray snickered as he spied my bikini bra lying near him on the lounge chair, well out of my reach. He held it up by one string, made a big show of thoroughly examining it, then watched over his shoulder as Linda disappeared into the kitchen.
"I know YOU'D never wear anything like this, so Linda must've forgot her top," He said with an evil smirk, "Guess I better take it in to her!" He stuffed the triangles into his pocket, turned on his heel, and followed his foster sister into the house.
Guys don't like to read directions. I'm a guy, ergo...
Well, maybe it was my Boy Scout training gone bad, but I ended up at least having to look at the pictures to assemble the four-man dome tent. All the poles were supposed to be the same, but it turns out they only fit together one way. Despite the poles, it was still a lot easier than the old military surplus stuff Mr. Whipple got us. I remember having to wait forever just to borrow the single hammer he brought so we could pound in all those wooden tent stakes. There were probably dozens for each tent. You had to drive 'em in where there weren't any rocks, and then you had to fasten all the tent ropes to 'em. Of course, at night you'd trip over the stupid ropes in the dark, and wake everybody up when you went to take a leak!
This tent was fully self-supporting; there were no tent ropes, though there appeared to be some stakes in the bottom of the bag for some reason. Finally, with the tent up and ready, I loaded in my pack, blew up the air mattress, unrolled my sleeping bag, and plopped myself down on top. Sitting in the sun, it was already hot inside the tent, even with the vent flaps open. I spent a few moments relaxing in the heat, while looking up at the nylon tent top.
It was a pretty comfortable bed, but I knew instantly the bag was going to be way too warm in this weather. Fortunately, it came with a couple interchangeable sheets, so you could still lightly cover yourself without getting too hot. I'd liked that feature back when I planned to share it with Sarah, but more so because we could change them and wouldn't end up sleeping on a week's worth of wet spots.