Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿Hiding in Plain Sight Joan had been reading some of these stories and seen a couple of NIP movies. She was intrigued. She had been raised Christian fundamentalist, was not a year out of a very limiting marriage. At this time in her life, she is looking to make up for lost time and adventure. We had taken a walk in the desert and she had tried walking nude for a portion. In no time, she took to nudity around her house, and then got a thrill venturing outside and into her backyard. Next, she slid into her pool. Nude sun bathing lying in the middle of her trampoline began after that. She was thoroughly enjoying the freedom and risk of being discovered in situations that before had been inappropriate. She wanted to try a longer nude walk. I suggested my fantasy of body paint and a bike ride along the river park under full moonlight. One evening, I painted a black sport bra and stretch bike style pants on her as she stood talking on the phone. Her pubic hair stood out rather obviously. She was giggling in delighted approval when she looked into the full length mirror. She was ready to go for it. With a deep breath, she boldly strode out her front door and down the drive to the sidewalk. We walked around the corner to the more traveled street in her neighborhood. Barely a minute went by without another car coming at us with blaring daylight making headlights. Each time we would hug, hiding her pubic hair with my body. The side view was the most presented. She was loving being nude in a public setting. After walking around the area we decided to go where she wasn't known and to find some excitement. The local grocery store shopping mall was on the list, because she had a letter that needed to be dropped off in the postbox. I pulled up to the curb in front of the stores and the curb side mail box, which was about 40 feet from the open grocery's large front door. She got out and walked the brightly lit ten or twelve feet to the mailbox. We had not planned on her being in any light but dim, because it would be just too evident that she was actually totally nude. She commented, "Okay, now I'm scared." with a gulp. She looked out at a group of people conversing in the parking lot in front of the grocery store with direct sight of her complete exposer. She was so visibly excited and turned on. We figured there wasn't much chance of fooling these people. They were her audience. She tried; the key word is "tried," to act casual and natural. We drove around the parking lot watching the "audience" to see if they were watching us or pointing. We decided to drive to another part of town and find a neighborhood to walk in. I had taken some walks in one area a couple of years before, and thought it a moderately traveled and lit area. Murphy's Law, it wasn't that night. Immediately after we got out of the car and locked it, the porch lights on the house next door were on and someone was coming out of the front door. She denied my caution to leave and start elsewhere. We walked right past two guys standing on their front porch, as its front light shown out on us. She walked with me between them, obscuring their complete view and exposed to the street. We walked on, down the street, having to hug to hide from two cars head lights. We arrived at the corner. There we got trapped with two cars at the same time, coming from different directions. One stopped at the intersection a few feet from us. They could see most of her body, but it seemed that they weren't seeing the paint as paint, but mistaking it for skin tight clothes. We continued down the street. There was a lot of traffic for the area and more bright porch lights than I remembered. People were out walking on this warm night. It was busy. At one point we had three people walking down in the street on our side toward us. We had no choice but to walk right up to them and pass. Joan kept extremely cool and walked using my body as a bit of a block as they approached with a car's headlights shinning on her from behind their backs. The car passed as a telephone pole sat in just the correct spot, at just the correct time. We passed close to these three and greeted them with, "Good evening". I guess people expect someone to be wearing skin tight clothes and not paint. They see what they expect to see. It was amazing. Dozens of people saw most of her butt naked body but didn't believe it. I thought of another neighborhood where I knew a nudist couple. We parked in front of their house in case we needed to make a quick hideout and our car wouldn't look strange or suspicious. We walked down the street. This neighborhood was no where near as busy as the last location, but at the end of the street we turned and walked down a major street with three lanes going each way. We were locked along a long bare wall about 40 feet from the road lanes. It kept us somewhat obscure, but there was no ability to hug, to hide from the light and passing cars. I had noticed that Joan's paint job on her butt had worn down from sitting in the car. It looked like her pants had worn to a very, I mean very, threadbare state. I was nervous about this, especially because there was more possibility of an observant patrol car cruising by. Joan, bless her, was undaunted. Of course she couldn't appreciate the view of her threadbare paint and may have felt quite different, if she could really see herself. Note from Joan: I was really nervous at first. As we passed several people, I came to realize that the other people really were just assuming I had on workout clothes. I found myself wanting to find more and more people to see me in my unclothes. I thought it was quite an adventure. We finally reached the next block about a short quarter mile up the road and turned back into the residential area, to my relief. We walked and hugged for a couple of miles through that neighborhood. We had about a dozen more encounters with headlights that evening. She was nude and thoroughly enjoying her freedom; I was dressed and my nerves were being stretched. Yes, a police car finally did drive down the street just a few feet next to us. The paint thing with the teamwork paid off. I realized a new side of Joan developing. On the way back we thought we would do a Taco Bell drive through. We were both pretty thirsty. Joan had a wild turned on look in her eye, was feeling bold, and wanted to go through without covering. I had to explain that that was a potential bust. Yea, I suppose you readers are thinking I was a killjoy, but this one is a true story. We had to come up with something else. She had gone from going secretly nude in public, to wanting to expose herself. A brazen exhibitionist was budding. We loved this. Everyone was summer hot in clothing. She strolled along very comfortable, but was being hot in other ways. I was hot in every which way. The Next Week: She Blooms The next week, after her successful paint adventure, Joan took to fantasies and planning a legal exhibitionist plot with enthusiasm. She had shortened a few of her skirts. One already short skirt was an emerald green lace cover over a satin slip. She had cut out the slip and wanted to go out in just the lace. Wow, it looked sexy, but it was totally see-through. Everything was evident. She would be just the same as being nude in public. It was an obvious arrest. I suggested a brief flesh colored set of underwear, just enough to make it legal. Joan had nothing to fit the bill. She had gone from conservative Grandma knickers to wearing nothing a few months before. She consequently had nothing appropriately inappropriate. We went to Fredrick's and Victoria's Secret in the mall to find some underwear. We found a nude set of bra and G string knickers. They were small, but enough to cover the nipples and genitals. The panty is stringy and has a very small V opening with an emblem at the top of the front panels "V". It was just enough to cover her pubic hair except for the mini V with the emblem. She put on the lace dress and modeled. She was pretty much going out in the smallest of nude colored underwear. I thought that sense, or some modesty would hit her when she looked in the mirror, but evident delight took over her face. She enthusiastically said, "Let's go" as she strutted bravely out the front door to dinner. Suddenly, she stumbled out of her glide whispering, "Oh shit, what if the neighbors see me!" She walked around the front of my car, which was waiting in the driveway, without any chance meetings with her neighbors. We decided on our favorite vegetarian restaurant in the middle of the college bar/bohemian area of town, where it wasn't likely we would see anyone we knew. I found a place to park right in front, on the curb. She appreciated the short quick trip into the restaurant. We asked to be set at our table and were led through the place. We had to walk around the belly dancer that every patron was watching, and then arrived at our destination. No ones jaw dropped. I only saw casual notice, except one guy in the main lobby that might have twisted his neck a little too much. You see, his head spun around following her cute bare ass (did I ever mention her very cute ass and the great walk she has). We had a fine dinner, enjoyed the belly dancer and her balancing tricks, and then strolled out on the town. Joan was comfortable now. For the next while, we strolled arm in arm, hip to hip, down the Ave. We looked in store windows and watched the people. I enjoyed watching people watching Joan. There was reggae music blaring out of a bar with its own sand box beach and umbrellas out front. We decided to go for it. We spent the next hour or more swaying to the beat, making out, and generally enjoying ourselves. There were blacklights here and there and I noticed how they would accent the underwear, leaving no doubts about what Joan was wearing. When we went out on the dance floor, all eyes were following her. People were smiling and stirring. They came out and joined us catching our liberated vibe. We left after an hour or more, and then found ourselves in a hippie shop. I think it is called The Hippie Shop. It was well lit, so the dress was absolutely see-through and we spent long enough to close the place at midnight. We were looking at the posters, and bending over, looking at the racks of bumper stickers. At one point Joan was able to check herself out in the full mirror in the open dressing room and was delighted once more. No adjustments necessary. As we strolled on, we made a turnoff from the main street, and into an old residential area. We found a dark area by a tree on the side walk, about a block and a half down, and began to smooch. There were cars passing taking short cuts from the bars that would light things up from time to time. As we held each other and romantically expressed our love, I began to lift her dress and caress her body. After a long heated session, I undid her bra and we slipped it through and out of her dress and into my pocket. She looked both ways. She had that look about her eyes. The inevitable happened, although we hadn't anticipated or planned on it. I slipped her knickers down and off of her. She was sooo wet, and then suddenly, I was holding her weight up with my arms, as her shaking legs were giving out from under her. We continued, and she was dripping, and I was rubbing her button, and it went on forever. A note from Joan: Oh. My. Gosh. I was so freakin excited when we were making out right there on the street with my underwear and bra in Johnny's pocket and my dress riding up where Johnny was caressing me. There I was with my bare butt, seeing people walking down the street. I could see them and feel the air all over me, but they couldn't see me. Or so I thought. I was really really wet and excited and wanted to jump all over Johnny (which I couldn't do, because I couldn't even really stand up on my own). It was time to go. We took off down the sidewalk. Two couples got into their cars on the other side of the street. Then, we saw a gathering of teenagers or young people that had accumulated in front of us. There were around twenty people there, gathered and chatting, around and on the sidewalk. We had to a walk between them and through the crowd. We did. We walked by the sidewalk tables where people were sitting and staring at Joan. We arrived at the corner, and now had to walk down the main business sidewalk to get to the car. The bar there was popping, there was a line outside and people hanging out. A girl in a rakish disheveled skirt and her nipples hanging out of her top sat on the planter in front of the bar. She looked amazed to be outdone. A drunk said loudly, "Hey, your dress is totally see-through. Buddy, I hope you know karate or something, `cause I may have to hit you up the head and get me some of that." I said to Joan, "Yep, that was a little weird. Don't look back, just walk for the car". We did. I looked back, after holding the car door for my "lady," and saw this guy stop following us, about fifteen feet away. I got in and we drove off. Joan with a reflective amazed look in her eye, told me. "Well, now I've done it. I've walked down a major public street pretty much completely nude". A note from Joan: It was really panicky for me when that big guy asked if I knew my dress was "totally see through." I lamely said, "oh really?" I had to stop myself from breaking into a run to the safety of the car. I had thought the darkness would hide me a bit more, even on the main drag. We weren't a block down the road, when Joan insisted we find a place to park and started giving me directions. How could I argue? She directed us to park about two blocks down from that bar, right on the main drag. She had her shoes and lace dress off and was climbing into the back seat butt-nekkid and looking out of the rear window. I followed her; eventually the foggy windows gave us a little cover --.