Chapter 1

In the first place, even Patti would have to admit that she had no idea the appointment to do an in-home massage was inside a nudist mobile home park. She only know it was called Gulf Side Sunny Acres and that the woman who placed the call sounded like she was a senior citizen with a need for relief for a bad back and other issues with her knees and lower calves.

She was not entirely certain that the sign at the entrance included the word “Nudist” but there was no doubt in her mind when she walked into the rental office and came face to face with no less than a dozen entirely naked people of varying sizes and shapes all busy doing everyday activities with no thought about anything the least bit related to sex or improper behavior.

Patti felt totally out of place with her short shorts and her bandana styled top that left no doubt her little twin bumps were succulent nipples in need of a firm hand to bring them into perky attention for possible sins of the flesh.

“Excuse me Sir; I am looking for Ms. Lolita Golightly. She told me on the phone that she was in unit 69.”

The almost completely bald older man behind the counter looked up and frowned when he saw a decent looking young woman actually wearing clothes despite the rules and regulations posted prominently at the front entrance in one inch black ink letters expressly prohibiting visitors from conducting business inside the gate whilst clothed. Patti had absolutely no idea for his obvious hostility because she seldom paid any attention to silly things like signs and warnings because her one track mind was focused on getting her nervous fingers into some stranger’s skin and listen to their moans of sheer delight when she hit a nice spot. It was the perfect job for Patti because she tended to get off on the simple act of touching strange flesh and it didn’t matter to her if it was a man or a female or someone in between.

The sight of the remaining nude residents sprawled on the cliché lounge chairs were burned into her memory bank like pornographic shots in a men’s magazine. For some strange reason, her curiosity was drawn to inspecting the female snatches to see if the older women let their hair grow wild in bushy untended growth or if they used some sort of tool like a razor or even wax to remove their lower extremity hair for hairless exhibition. She noticed that some of the women were “in between” with little neatly tended landing strips or simple tended gardens inviting eager fingers to explore the nooks and crannies of their private parts with no preference to wading through deep jungles or rubbing hairless skin in sensitive feminine areas. It was impossible to research their anal entryways because most of them had rolling curves of flesh hiding the puckered rims and still tight sphincters they retained even in advanced years. She thought of her own pampered pussy with hairless entrance. Patti liked it that way because she was certain most men were inclined to turn down the opportunity to “eat” her for dessert if her hair was growing wild and wooly way down yonder. As for her sensitive sphincter, she had not as yet had the pleasure of any person adventurous enough to test her tightness with a tender touch of a tentative tongue flicking every which way but deep inside where the sun don’t shine. Now, that was a fact you could take to the bank and be certain it was safe except in the event of a nuclear explosion which was less likely than simply getting robbed by gangsters looking for booty.

“She was pulling your leg if she said she was in unit 69. She is in 22B directly facing the pool area and spends most of her time drinking margaritas and smoking those damn cigarettes in her back yard. Stupid woman is going to start a fire for sure one night with a glass still in her hand and her snoring to beat the band.”

Patti saw several of the men perk up at the mention of 69 and knew instinctively they all had the dirtiest of minds just like their younger counterparts. Still, she felt that little start of a tingle down below and she wondered what she had gotten into by thinking she could do an outcall massage in a nudist colony and not expect some measure of sexual innuendo. Her problem was that all of the naked skin had her severely agitated and her fingers were itching to get moving and sample some of the curves and nicely tanned extremities all around her. She followed the manager’s directions and tried her best not to look at his huge erection when he came from behind the counter. He saw her looking with a guilty smile and he told her,

“Can’t help it, happens whenever I see a nice looking broad wearing clothes. If you were naked like the rest of us, I wouldn’t get it up without lots of help and maybe a little blue pill.”

The sight of so many swinging dicks walking to the pool area had her pussy all upset and confused about exactly she was doing in such a place in the middle of the day. The fun-loving Lolita was in her back yard just as the manager had predicted and her generously proportioned ass cheeks rose like twin peaks of pleasure absorbing the power of the sun even though her sunscreen was applied with liberal intent since cancer was uppermost on the mind of most of the nude practitioners.

“Come on in, honey, don’t you look all sexy with all those clothes on. You better get rid of most of that or these old farts will be all over you like stink on shit.”

Patti nervously shed her clothes and only kept her tiny Brazilian thong and thin sports bra on because she was still guilty at displaying her well-toned figure completely naked in front of strangers. It would be different if she was on top of a massage table face down and legs spread for the hands of a fellow massage artist taking care of all her needy nooks and crannies.