Chapter 3

On Saturday morning, Dacey Kane awakened very early, long before her alarm was set to go off. Instead of trying to go back to sleep, though, she arose and began her preparations. After taking a shower and washing her hair, she very carefully shaved her legs and underarms. Then using a magnifying mirror in conjunction with a full-length mirror on a door, she examined her crotch for even the smallest stray hair. A couple were found and ruthlessly plucked.

She didn’t stop there. Using mirrors in combination, she carefully examined her small remaining pubic patch to be sure that its four edges were all straight and sharply defined. Finally satisfied, she spent the next fifteen minutes searching for the perfect underwear for the day, settling on a luscious white thong that set off her all-over golden tan perfectly. After fluffing the top of her pubic hair over the upper edge of the thong, she even used small manicure scissors to trim a few hairs to what she thought to be the exactly right length.

With her back to the mirror, she turned her head to inspect her rear view. With the white line of material in the crack of her ass, her golden buns really looked pretty good. This was an all-time first for Candace Kane: The first time in her entire life she ever thought any element of her physical appearance was even marginally acceptable, let alone good. I’ve heard thongs called ‘butt floss’, she thought. No wonder!

She thought for a moment about rouging her nipples and even the edges of her labia, but rejected the idea. In the first place, her nipples were a rosy red to begin with; the rouge likely wouldn’t even show. Moreover, it might rub off on the inside of her shirt, which would be terminally tacky.

Having completed the time-consuming elements of her personal preparation, she slipped on a pair of short-short Levi’s cut-offs and then a work shirt with the sleeves torn off at the shoulders. She tied the shirttails together under her breasts. Or where my breasts would be if I had any, she thought.

After having her breakfast, she polished her lovely new teeth and even put on some lipstick. With preparations complete, she left her apartment and went to her car.

She had loved her M-6 from the very first instant. She kept in the garage beneath her apartment and kept it gleaming. Polishing it — detailing it, really — was for her a labor of love. Easing it out, she headed for the park.

At the park entrance, she asked a ranger for directions to the Aerospace Technologies picnic. She not only provided the directions, she gave Dace a park booklet with a map inside. It also had pictures of a number of the park’s features. One that caught her eye was a waterfall dropping into a very small lake. Dacey noted that it wasn’t very far from where the AT activities were centered.

After parking her car, she strode over to the area where the AT people were gathering. At the entrance to the area a card table had been set up staffed by three women. As she drew closer, the eldest of the three matrons rose from her chair and came around the table toward Dace with both of her hands extended. Dacey didn’t know what else to do, so she extended her hands which the woman immediately took in her own.