Epilogue

Two months have passed since the Wilkins and friends left Whispering Pines and returned home.

North Carolina – October 2006

New Beginnings

Rachel wore light makeup and had her curly hair up, showing off the diamond studs in her ears. She held her new book up for the dozen people crowded into the Wilkins’s’ living room to see. “Thank you all for coming out tonight to support the launch of my new book,” she said.

Bob stood in the kitchen listening, holding a cold pilsner. Rachel was nude, just like everyone else here tonight, and she’d lost a little weight around the hips since their trip to Whispering Pines. Bob looked down at the softcover book on the countertop—a group of attractive naked people on the cover walking in a forest, mostly backsides but a couple of side boobs, enough to catch a shopper’s eye yet still pass Amazon’s censors. A simple, straightforward title: A Practical Guide to Home Nudity and Loving Your Family. He flipped it over to read the back. It ran 210 pages across eleven chapters. He scanned the author profile:

Miriam Cohen is a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (MFT) and certified sexologist practicing in the southeastern United States. She writes under a pseudonym to protect her family’s privacy while raising her young son and daughter with her husband, a physician. A military veteran, Miriam specializes in family systems, intimacy, and trauma-informed care.

Miriam was her fake author name, and Bob knew the truth about the unconventional side of her life. He’d read most of the book, and it was good—far better than Dr. Levenson’s Casual Home Nudity. Rachel’s book was grounded in case studies and reality in a way the other book wasn’t. Down the hall, the bathroom had its door again.

He liked the way her full breasts moved when she talked, and those tasty, wide, perky nipples.

Katie Nelson half-raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “I love how you organized the chapters and the case studies and talked about the special relationships parents might have with their kids,” she said.

Rachel smiled. “Thank you, Katie. If you mean incest—yes, as you know, it’s a very touchy subject. I had to choose my words and case studies carefully. For publishing reasons, I had to hint and talk around the question of incest, since I don’t take a strong position against it. I’ll save those discussions for counseling or in settings like these with trusted friends.”

Bob took a pig in a blanket from his plate and took a bite of the pastry. This was the right crowd. Nancy and her granddaughter Cassandra were on the couch with Caroline. Like Rachel, they wore makeup, painted their nails, and all that for an evening out. Most of their close home-nudity friends were here for Rachel’s book launch. Doug’s mom and Jackie Jimenez sat at the other end of the couch, while the vivacious Grace Sinclair had the armchair, her youngest, Kaitlin, sitting on the floor with the twins, Jenny and Lynn.

Those who were invited had bought advance copies from Sarah, who sat at a card table with a stack of books and a cash box. Jenny, Lynn, Olivia Nelson, Alina Jimenez, and Kaitlin Sinclair all sat on the floor. Sodas in hand, a bowl of popcorn in front of them whispering comments and conspiring like well-adjusted teenage girls do, completely comfortable without clothes.

Bob thought Katie was interesting, she held lots of opinions, most of which he agreed with. She had a great body, heavy breasts, and a kinky side; she liked the butt stuff, anal beads, and younger penises. He and JoAnn had swapped with the Nelsons in September, with a twist—Kristy and Olivia had been willing participants, going with their moms.

Caroline spoke up. “I really like this book. I think anyone interested in trying out nudism at home or visiting a club will find this book helpful. Chapter Six on navigating natural curiosity and those awkward moments would have been helpful when we jumped into this a year ago,” she said. The women around her nodded in agreement.

Bob laughed to himself—more like stripped naked and pushed into home nudity. He drank.

He smiled. His oldest had become one of Rachel’s top case studies and was mentioned in a couple of places—not by name, of course.

Kevin came out of the den where he was playing a computer game and walked toward the kitchen. “Dad, your pager has been buzzing,” he said, handing Bob the small black device that came with his new Special Forces liaison job.

“Thanks,” Bob said. The pager was a newer two-way type. He looked at the message and the number, noting a 202 Washington, D.C. area code. “I’ll need the office for a bit, so hang out with your sisters,” he said.

Kristy stood in front of everyone, the center of attention, opened a bookmarked copy of Home Nudity and Loving Your Family, and took a sip of Diet Coke.

As hostess, JoAnn was making sure drinks were refilled and the snack table stayed stocked. Bob and Kevin had already grazed on the pigs in a blanket—hot dogs wrapped in flaky pastry and baked. It was mostly a women’s party, so there were veggie and cheese trays along with open bottles of good wine. Rachel’s book was going live for sale on Amazon on Tuesday. The book was good; the Wilkins’ had found it easier to model their family rules based on Rachel’s sound advice and what they’d learned in the last year.

Pouring herself a glass of Cabernet, JoAnn stopped to listen to Kristy read a passage.

Rachel said, “I chose this passage from Chapter Four, ‘Consensual Family Intimacy,’ for her to read.”

Kristy lifted the book. “Many families discover that crossing traditional boundaries in private, consensual ways can deepen love and trust. This chapter, using case studies and practical guidance, explores the experiences of family members who have chosen this path, the psychological benefits, and practical considerations for maintaining healthy dynamics. When all parties feel safe, heard, and respected, such intimacy can strengthen emotional bonds and reduce shame around the body,” she said, then glanced at Rachel.

“Good. Now flip to the Post-it note—the case study,” Rachel instructed.

“Sure, case study, the K. family,” Kristy said, pausing to look at JoAnn, who nodded for her to go ahead.

Kristy continued, “One family I worked with began their home nudity journey when their oldest daughter was a teenager. After several months of routine family nudity at home, moving from initial discomfort to full acceptance, she quickly embraced home nudity and later social nudity. The family’s openness, combined with clear communication, significantly reduced rebellion and improved relationships with her parents and siblings.” She paused.

“Now the last part,” Rachel said, watching the room.

JoAnn knew this case study of the “K. family” was personal for Kristy.

Kristy read the last part. “She chose the timing of her first sexual experience with a trusted partner. The family’s open attitude toward nudity helped normalize healthy boundaries and consent. She later shared that seeing nudity at home reduced shame and allowed her to make decisions from a place of confidence rather than secrecy. Her parents noted markedly better family communication and a stronger sense of trust within the unit,” she said, closing the book.

“Thank you, great job,” Rachel said.

JoAnn knew that passage was about Kristy and Bob, written in such a way that the situation was generic but helpful. She sipped her wine as a couple of the ladies raised their hands with questions. They would all help Rachel sell her book by quietly recommending it to friends who might be interested, as well as those already practicing home nudity.

For a Saturday night, this was a pretty tame party—not enough men, though. Bob had already slipped away to the den, his pager clutched in his hand.

Done reading to light applause, Kristy took a bow and gladly took a seat, accepting a glass of red wine from her mom.

“I liked what you read,” Cassandra said. “Especially the part about nudity freeing us and opening us up to others.”

The two sat nude, hip to hip, on the couch. Cassandra wore her dark hair in a short bob. A year younger than Kristy, she had a generous chest that was a favorite plaything of her dad, Bob.

“Thank you,” Kristy replied, only half paying attention while Rachel answered questions from the room. She and Cassandra’s sister Raquel had often shared their Grandpa Frank’s cock during golf lessons, with Cassandra joining in on occasion. Back then Kristy had been trying to impress Nathan, the college guy she liked.

When Nathan came back to Boone, which was not often, they still dated. They were friends. In August she had let him get to third base. He hadn’t pushed; she’d actually had to tell him he could go that far. Nathan was a decent kisser and liked her neck. She had gotten her hand on his long, hard cock until he told her to stop.

“What are you thinking about?” Cassandra asked, taking a sip of her cola. “Nathan?” There was no teasing in her voice.

Kristy knew Cassandra had her own struggles with self-esteem and shyness—her older sister was more outgoing and independent. Like Kristy, she was far from being a virgin.

“Yes, him. I don’t know what I should do,” Kristy said. She was a senior now and had taken her SATs and done well.

She could apply to Wheaton, where Nathan went to school, but she had her eye on UPenn or even UNC for their anthropology programs. He was two years older and had his own plans.

Cassandra smiled. “Well, Ben will be back next weekend. We could double-date—you and Ben, me and Kevin.”

Kristy knew exactly what she meant. They could hook up. On the subject of casual sex, instead of calling off the golf deal, she’d renegotiated with Frank. After the July trip to camp, she’d come home more comfortable with the idea of acting like a whore. He was a successful businessman who was semi-retired, and they made a deal for a Chevron gas card and cash in exchange for four hours of sex a month and no golf. As a high school senior, she had expenses, had to pay for her own gas, and was trying to save for a trip to Europe next summer.

She reached up to touch the ancient silver drachm resting against the bare skin above her breasts, tracing the faded profile of Aphrodite—the goddess of courtesans—where it hung from a light silver chain. A gift from Aunt Hannah for her hard work on the Kythira dig.

“Sure, why not,” she said. The two girls hugged.

“Honey, I hate to break this up, but you have choir tomorrow morning,” Nancy said as she stood. The book party was breaking up.

Kristy and Cassandra held each other a moment longer. No strangers to each other, they kissed without thinking, short and wet, as Nancy started to dress.

“I’m singing a solo, one of Pastor Scott’s favorites,” Cassandra added as she stood.

“I’ll be there,” Kristy said. She had a “sex date” with Scott at his house that afternoon, while her dad had plans with Sarah—a daughter swap.

She felt better now. Nathan was a good man. Kristy was not so good when it came to sex, and she had her own plans for the future.

Kristy had finished her glass of wine. Where was her dad?

“I got your page,” Bob said. He kept his tone strictly professional and discreet on the open connection.