Chapter 2: Curtis

An hour later, they were back, creekside, sharing the log.

Curtis spoke first. “If I had been late, and you were impatient, I would have said, ‘Keep your shirt on!’”

“Ha-ha. Your jokes must be popular with those middle school kids.”

I smiled at him, though. Ten more points for attempted humor.

“Have a good lunch?” asked Curtis.

“Sure, and you?”

“It’s all good. I’m in the same clothes, though. For someone who is wearing nothing, you’re surprisingly critical.”

I showed him my biggest smile.

“You misunderstand me, Curtis. They’re not icky because they are ugly, dirty, smelly, or unfashionable. Your clothing just blocks my view.”

Has he not noticed my intense ogling?

“We just met, Anja, and I am not going naked in front of you. This whole nudist campground thing is still weird to me.”

“I know, you’re not ready. But you don’t mind looking at me, do you?”

“Well, no, you’re damn foxy for a white girl. You may be the whitest girl I’ve ever seen! You and your family must buy sunblock by the gallon.”

“I guess you don’t need it.”

“That’s a misconception. With enough exposure, I will burn, painfully; you just wouldn’t see that bright red color on my dark skin. But I can get by out on the beach for an hour or so.”

“For me, just ten minutes, and I’m glowing red as a tail light.”

It’s time to use some logic on him.

“OK, you see me naked. You’ve seen your mother naked. You go to the beach, topless, I assume.”

She pointed to the creek at their feet. “There’s the water; I declare this a beach. Take off your icky shirt!”

“Wait a minute! You want me Shirtless at East Atlow?”

“I do. Get on with it!”

Doesn’t he know how fucking hot he is?

“Better. Ooh! May I touch you?”

I just blurted this out. He is fantastic. Completely hairless chest with all the muscles showing. Tight waist, with an “innie” navel. Those broad shoulders. Yum. I’m still imagining his round little butt.

Hesitant, “OK, Anja, but be gentle. I’m not used to being touched by naked girls.”

“You’ll be fine. Just relax and look pretty. Anja will take good care of you. You must be getting a lot of exercise to be looking this way. Is there a particular sport you enjoy?”

“In high school, I was on the varsity football team, playing defense—a linebacker. My job was to chase down and tackle guys when they caught a pass or ran through the line.”

“Curtis, I know what linebackers do. If you think I’m ignorant because I’m blonde-headed, you can put your shirt back on and get off my log.”

“Oh, hell, no. Forgive me! I mentioned being a linebacker only because I couldn’t tackle for shit. I’d catch up to opponents just fine, and then they would toss me aside like an empty beer can. It drove my coach fucking nuts. He put me in their weight room to build up my strength and my muscle mass.

“I never did get very good at tackling, but I got hooked on the strength training. Didn’t you say your brother does the same thing in your basement?”

“He does, Curtis, but Onni doesn’t have the results you show. Wow. And he has lots of equipment down there. OH! Let me rephrase that! In our basement, he has lots of exercise equipment. Maybe you could come over to our place and work out with him. Might be fun.”