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 ï>¿Nude Day Running Adventure by SimonDoom

   Be careful what you take off when you're away from home.

   The smell of coffee roused her from her morning grogginess.

   Rachel Gray stood in her kitchen, mug in hand, dressed in a long night
shirt and frayed pink cotton panties, and nothing more.  The tile floor
felt cool against her bare feet.  She thought about the day ahead.

   She had taken the day off work.  It was Wednesday, July 14, and she had
her own special reason for taking the day off.  She had not shared that
reason with anyone else.

   "I'm going to get naked today," she said softly, into her coffee.

   "What'd you say, Mom?" said Aaron, her son, loping into the kitchen
unexpectedly behind her.

   "Nothing," Rachel said, glad Aaron had not heard what she had said.  Her
hands shook, and the coffee almost spilled.  That was close.  "Just talking
to myself."

   "Whatever," he replied.  Rachel noticed he gave her a quick, furtive
look like he was wondering whether Mom was losing it.

   Rachel knew she had a habit of talking to herself.  She had always had
the habit, but she had been exercising it more since the divorce from Stan,
her ex-husband, a year earlier.

   Rachel refocused her attention away from her plans and toward helping
Aaron get ready for the day.  She made Aaron's breakfast, the usual: cereal
and sausage and orange juice.  Half an hour later he was out the door and
on his way in the family car to a friend's vacation home at a lake two
hours away.  The trip was to be a post- high school graduation celebration
for Aaron and his friends.  Aaron would be there for several days with his
buddies.  Rachel didn't even want to think about what they were going to
do, but she had no doubt it would involve alcohol and debauchery.  The less
she knew, the better.

   With Aaron out of the house, Rachel realized that the nest truly was
empty.  When Aaron left for college, late in August, she would be all alone
in the big house that she'd taken in the divorce settlement.  Stan, a
wealthy real estate developer, had bought a new house -- an even bigger one
-- in another part of the city.

   "Time for Mom to have some fun," Rachel said to herself over a second
steaming cup of coffee.

   Today was the first day of Rachel's new life on her own, and it just so
happened to be, of all things, Nude Day.  She hadn't even heard of Nude Day
-- had no idea there was such a thing -- until she saw something about it
online two weeks earlier.

   Rachel wasn't a nudist, or an exhibitionist, for that matter.  Other
than skinny-dipping once with friends in college, she'd never been nude in
public.  Stan would never approve of anything so brazen and inappropriate.
It might jeopardize his reputation, which he prized above all other things,
except maybe his Aston-Martin DB11.

   But Stan was no longer in the picture, and her son was gone for several
days, and Rachel keenly felt a new sense of freedom to do things
differently.

   It would start today.

   "Game on," she said out loud, no longer concerned about anyone
overhearing her.

   Rachel pulled the night shirt off her and tossed it to the floor.  Then
she shucked off her panties.  She stood nude in the kitchen.

   She wanted to see herself.  She walked from the kitchen to her bedroom,
and she stared into the full-length mirror on the wall and critically
appraised her nude body.

   Rachel knew she was an attractive woman, with a slender but curvy figure
maintained by a healthy diet and regular exercise, but she was at an age --
42 -- when the confidence of youth had begun to retreat before the
uncertainty and doubt of middle-age.  She felt, acutely, the pull of
gravity on her body.  She had noticed a gray hair or two.  She checked her
skin frequently in the mirror for signs of cellulite.  She wanted to push
back against time's steady forward march.  She knew she couldn't control or
prevent the future, but, damn it, she could celebrate the present.

   Rachel walked across the carpet to her dresser, opening the drawer that
was stuffed full of her running shorts and tops.  Rachel ran five days a
week.  She was one of those runners that valued style along with high
performance in their workout clothes.  She knew just what she was going to
wear today -- at least for a while, she thought, smiling to herself. 
Today's outfit pushed Rachel's comfort zone.  She had bought it online only
a week earlier, and she had never worn it in public before.  The shorts
were form-fitting, with a mere 2-inch inseam that barely contained her ass.
The top was a mere sport bra.  Both bra and shorts were baby blue, matching
her eyes.

   Rachel had seen other women running in similarly skimpy outfits,
although most of them were younger than she.  Rachel had never dared
wearing something so revealing.  Stan would have thrown a fit.  But that
was then, and this was now.

   She pulled the little shorts up her shins and thighs, taking the time to
enjoy the sensual feel of the slippery fabric on her bare skin.  She wore
no panties under the shorts, and when they shrugged into place on her hips,
she felt the slick snugness of the material between her legs.  Looking at
herself in the mirror again, Rachel noticed that the shorts were so snug
and the fabric so thin that a faint indentation formed between her legs --
a camel toe, that's what it's called, she thought.  It wasn't so noticeable
as to be scandalous, but it was there, nonetheless, and it sent a thrill of
pleasure up her spine to know the shorts would show her off that way.

   Next, she pulled the bra over her head until her breasts settled into it
comfortably.  Rachel had never run in public in just a bra before.  It
provided enough support for her C-cup breasts, but just barely.  It exposed
a surprising expanse of cleavage.  Anyone bothering to watch her run today
would be exposed to more jiggling than Rachel was accustomed to show.

   Rachel bound her straw-brown hair into a ponytail with a white
scrunchie. She slipped ankle-high white and blue socks onto her feet and
laced up her brand-new ASICS running shoes.

   She looked herself over again in the mirror.  She approved of what she
saw.  She felt bold to go outside in such a skimpy outfit, but she had to
admit to herself that she looked good.

   It was time to start her run.

   She set the house alarm and stepped out the front door, locking it and
leaving a key under the mat.

   Beyond the front door lay the tony, leafy, suburban glade of Laurel
Lane, lined on both sides with spacious houses built seven decades before.
It was one of the most desired places to live in the city.  Rachel turned
left at the end of the driveway and began running at a slow pace.  Her
limbs were still stiff, and she would take a few minutes to warm them and
loosen them before hitting her normal running stride.

   Right away, she saw, in the porch on the house next to hers, her
neighbor Walter, an elderly widower who said little but seemed friendly, if
perhaps at times a little pervy in the way he looked at Rachel overlong
across the property boundary.  She waved at him as she ran by, and as
always, he said nothing, but he gave her a thumbs up and a big smile.

   A little farther down the block, she saw another neighbor, Mary
Millstone, walking out the front door to her Volvo in the driveway.  Mary
was the street's self-appointed snoop and gossip monger.  Rachel groaned
inside.  Mary was the last person she wanted to see her in the new running
outfit.  But there was nothing she could do about it, and, sure enough,
Mary looked up from her car keys toward Rachel's lithe, scantily clad
figure.

   "Hi, Mary!" Rachel called in what she hoped was a soothing manner.  It
didn't have the desired effect.  Mary's jaw dropped and then her eyebrows
and lips knitted themselves into a disapproving scowl.  Obviously, Mary did
not believe Rachel's scant attire met the high standards of Laurel Lane.

   Well, screw you, Mary, Rachel thought, smiling to herself as she thought
it.  She felt the delicious thrill of newfound freedom and boldness.  Her
life was taking a new turn, even if its only manifestation so far was a new
running outfit.

   With Mary and Walter behind her, Rachel picked up her pace, and after
two more blocks she turned left onto Sycamore Street.  The thick tree cover
of Laurel Lane gave way to sunlit pavement.  No clouds marred the blue
summer sky above, and Rachel's skin warmed quickly.

   A few more blocks later, Sycamore Street ended at a park next to a
river. The river meandered its way through the city.  Many years earlier
the city's planners had wisely set aside large parcels of land along the
riverside as wild areas, to remain undeveloped.  A multiuse bike and
pedestrian trail known as the Rivertrail followed its banks.  It was
Rachel's favorite place to run.  Because of all the land left wild, one
could run through the heart of the city along the trail and yet think one
was in a riparian wilderness.

   Rachel ran through the park until her path joined the Rivertrail.  She
turned right, to follow the trail downriver.  Now her run really had begun.

   She picked up her pace, and she ran with quick, confident strides.  The
hour approached late morning and the temperature rose fast.  Thick stands
of trees and shrubs rose all around the trail, sometimes offering shade and
sometimes blocking the view to the river.  Scents of licorice, lemon, and
sage wafted through the air.  A faint breeze kissed her skin and whispered
through the leaves overhead.

   After a time, Rachel left the Rivertrail for a skinny dirt trail heading
toward the river.  The surface was uneven, and the dirt was soft, slowing
her pace.  The forest canopy and shrubby understory grew denser, and soon
Rachel no longer could see the Rivertrail.  The dirt trail on which she ran
soon hugged the river shoreline.

   This was a side trail Rachel had run many times.  For whatever reason,
few others ran on it.  Rachel always savored the feeling of isolation from
people she got from running along this tiny trail.  It also provided almost
limitless opportunities for exploring the nooks and crannies of the river
that most never saw.

   Ahead of her, after running ten more minutes, Rachel finally spied what
she was looking for: an island in the river.  A slow-moving channel of
water maybe 50 feet wide separated the island from the shore next to which
she ran.  The island stretched perhaps 200 feet from one end to another,
and she had no idea how wide it was, having never seen the other side. 
Dense brush covered it, but in the middle of it was a little sandy beach,
and beyond that an opening in the plant cover.  On some earlier run, the
date of which Rachel had long since forgotten, she'd gotten it into her
head that it would be interesting to explore that island.  But she'd have
to swim there to do so, fighting 50 feet of steady river current.

   Rachel had decided to explore the island once and for all, today -- in
the nude.  She would strip her clothes off when no one was around, hide
them in the bushes, and take off for the island.  It would be her own
personal Nude Day adventure.

   But not quite yet.  Rachel wanted to run farther, to a park two miles
down the trail, hydrate at the drinking fountain, and then turn around. 
Her adventure would begin on the way back home.  It would feel refreshing
after sweating under the increasingly hot sun.

   Having scouted out the location, Rachel returned to the Rivertrail.

   Ahead, a man ran along the trail in the opposite direction, closing the
distance with her fast.  She guessed he was somewhat younger, maybe early
thirties, and he was good-looking.  He wore nothing but running shorts and
shoes and a sport watch, and his shirtless body was leanly muscled and
lacquered with sweat.  Rachel looked into his dark eyes, which were
scanning her body up and down.  On another occasion Rachel might have been
annoyed at his ogling, but not today.  That was the whole point of wearing
her running outfit, wasn't it?

   She smiled and said "Hi" as he approached, and he replied with a
mumbled, breathy "Morning." As he passed, Rachel turned, checking him out
from behind, and she caught him doing the same to her.  Both smiled,
embarrassed at catching one another in their mutual ogling, and they ran
on.

   She passed several people as she ran downriver, and she caught many of
them -- all the men, and even some of the women -- checking her out.  One
of the women, who looked to be about her age, even said, "I wish I looked
good enough to wear that!"

   "You do!" Rachel called as the other woman sped by going the other way.

   Rachel smiled to herself between increasingly fast breaths.  She felt
alive bounding along the trail in such a skimpy, revealing outfit.  It was
the first time she'd warn such an outfit, but it wouldn't be the last.

   The sun continued to rise, along with the temperature.

   At last, she entered the park.  Wild grass and shrubs gave way to a
well-mown expanse of lawn and stately elm and oak trees.  Ahead, twenty
feet off the trail, a drinking fountain beckoned.  Rachel made a beeline
for it and slowed her pace.

   Beyond the fountain, Rachel observed three young men on bicycles.  Two
wore t-shirts bearing the name of the local state college.  Their hair was
unruly, and their shorts were frayed, and they looked bored until they
noticed her, when the eyes on all three went wide.

   That's when she recognized one of them -- Jeremy, an acquaintance of her
son who had graduated in the class ahead of him the previous year.

   "Mrs.  Gray?"

   "It's Jeremy, right?"

   "Yeah." He didn't seem to know what else to say.  He stood slack-jawed,
obviously not expecting to find his friend's mom in a form-fitting and
skin-baring running ensemble.

   "What are you up to?" Rachel asked.

   It took a few seconds for Jeremy's words to form.  Obviously, the sight
of Rachel had made an impression.

   "Uh, not much.  We're going to go across the river and ride some of the
dirt trails over there." He pointed vaguely in the direction of a bicycle
bridge across the river at the edge of the park.

   "Sounds fun.  Pardon me, but I have to hydrate."

   Rachel stood closer to the fountain, bent over, and started drinking. 
She couldn't help but notice that out of the corner of her eye the three
young cyclists gathered to the side of and behind her, presumably lining up
to get a drink but obviously checking out her spandex-clad rear.

   Even so, she took her time, in part because she was thirsty but also...
because she liked the attention.  She soaked it up.  Although she couldn't
see the young men's three pairs of eyes, she had no doubt about what they
were fixed on.  She drank heartily until she'd had enough, then slowly
stood up.  From the looks on their faces she could tell they had enjoyed
the show.

   Instead of resuming her run back Rachel decided to tease them a little.
She put her hands against the big trunk of a nearby tree and did some calf
stretches.  Her calf muscles didn't feel sore or tight and she didn't need
to stretch, but she was having too much fun with showing off to stop yet.

   Out of the side of her eye she could tell that the young men were
sneaking glances at her, trying but failing miserably not to be too
obvious, while they took turns at the drinking fountain.  Finally, she
stood up away from the tree, stretched her arms, and turned to run back.

   She knew she was pushing the envelope, and maybe a bit too far, since
Jeremy and his friends might talk about her, and her son Aaron might hear
about it.  But today was about taking some risks.  She shrugged It off.

   "Have fun," she said to the three young men as she ran by them.

   From behind her she heard Jeremy call out, "Looking good, Mrs.  Gray!"

   "Thanks!" she said.

   She ran swiftly upriver on the Rivertrail, eager to reach the
destination for her adventure.  She passed more runners, and she enjoyed
the attention she got from the men.  Her exposed skin tingled.

   She ducked right onto a dirt side trail and before long saw the island
ahead.

   She slowed to a walking pace and looked in every direction.  She saw no
one.  Sometimes people chose to run on the narrow, twisty dirt trail rather
than the paved Rivertrail, but not too often.  Even if they did, the dense
greenery between the trail and the river probably would obscure their view
of a naked woman swimming to the island, unless that's what they were
looking for.  She would be taking a risk -- which was, frankly, part of the
point -- but not too big of one.

   Rachel turned right onto an even smaller path, nearly overgrown with
wild grasses and bushes.  In a few paces the little path gave way to a
small dirt bench at the river.  It was a spot she'd found on a run before
this day, and she'd determined that this would be the spot to start her
adventure.  It was a secluded spot, a small crescent in the shoreline where
the water was still and calm.  It lay shrouded on every side by tall trees
and dense bushes.  Unless someone knew where this spot was and traced her
path, which was unlikely, no one could see her.

   She looked across the span of the river that lay between her and her
destination -- the river island.  She had chosen this particular spot to
launch her adventure for two reasons.  One was that the foliage of the
island shielded her from view by anyone on the opposite side of the river.
The other was that it was perhaps 70 feet upriver of the beach on the
island for which she would swim.  She knew the current, although mild in
this stretch, would carry her downriver, and she couldn't afford to let it
carry her past the island where she would be exposed to the view of anyone
on the other side of the river.

   Rachel looked in every direction once again, and she listened carefully.
She neither saw nor heard anyone.  It was time to start.

   She started with her shoes, unlacing them deliberately, peeling them off
her feet, and placing them, with a sock in each, under a willowy bush by
the riverbank.  The damp soil under her feet was cool and pleasant to the
touch.

   Next, the bra.  She peeled it over her head, and her breasts sprang
free.

   She had done it.  She was topless in public.  Sort of public.  She
wondered if she could get arrested if a sheriff's deputy found her like
this.  Probably not, but he'd almost certainly demand that she put it back
on.

   Rachel had no intention of doing that.  Instead, she slipped her shorts
down her legs.  She picked up the shorts and the bra and draped them over
the top of the bush over her shoes, so the sweat in her clothing would
evaporate and they would dry out.

   She removed her scrunchie, too, and put it in one of the shoes.

   She stood, at last, completely naked by the riverbank.  This was her
Nude Day celebration -- the beginning of it.  She felt free, naughty, and
adventurous.  The feeling was new and exhilarating.

   Rachel tiptoed down the bank and beyond the river's edge.  The cold
water lapped over and chilled her feet.  Dappled sunlight filtering through
the trees over lit her body in patches.

   The cold water gave her pause, but only briefly.  She was determined to
see the adventure through.  She waded forward.  She gasped, a little, at
the sting of the cold water on her skin, but she didn't let the cold stop
her.  She gazed ahead at her destination, the little beach.  She would have
to swim vigorously to ensure getting to it before the current swept her
past it.  Rachel was a good swimmer, and felt confident she could do it,
but a hint of uncertainty gnawed at her.  Getting swept by the current past
the island and exposed to people on both sides of the river would be an
awfully bad idea.

   She plunged forward and immediately commenced a strong, fast freestyle
stroke, lifting her head every few strokes to get a bearing on where she
was.

   The water was colder than expected and the current was stronger than she
had estimated.  The chill of the water tweaked her nipples and nipped at
her vulva.

   Lifting her head above water halfway to the island, she saw it being
swept past her faster than she expected.  Uh oh.  She redoubled her kicks
and strokes.  She could see her landing spot -- the beach -- and though she
drew closer to it she wasn't sure she could make it.  Downstream of the
beach thorny vines crept all the way to the shoreline, and it would be
difficult to make a landing there.  If she couldn't land, she'd get swept
passed the island, naked, in the exposed part of the river.  She couldn't
let that happen.

   She had to swim faster.

   She stroked and kicked as hard as she could.

   Finally, huffing and puffing, just as she was about to pass by the
beach, her hand touched a rock under the water's surface.  She pushed
against it and dropped her legs.  Her toes touched the river bottom, but as
she tried to stand the current knocked her over and she splashed and kept
moving.  She put one foot down to brace herself against the current and
simultaneously flopped toward the island.  At last, the water was shallow
enough not to knock her over.

   She must have looked ridiculously clumsy to anyone that might have seen
her.

   In the shallows now, Rachel splashed forward a few feet to the little
beach.  This side of the island was in the shade, shrouded in dense
foliage. She walked another few feet forward and put her hands on her knees
to recover her breath.

   A few seconds later she remembered that she was naked and still exposed,
and that she was pointing her bare ass at the riverbank from which she had
swum.  She turned around and looked back.  She saw no one.  Her clothes
still hung over the bush.  A light breeze rose off the water and the trees
all around rustled.

   It was time to explore.  Rachel turned back toward her island and
observed a gap in the foliage ahead of her.  A faint path lay before her.
It wasn't much of a path, and it was overgrown everywhere with vines and
bushes and grasses, but it was enough of a path she could tell other people
had been here before.  She wasn't the first one to be in this spot, but she
saw no sign that anyone else had been there recently.

   "I'm all alone," she said to herself.  "And I'm free."

   She walked forward, along the twisty path, almost on tiptoes, making no
noise, even though the river flow undoubtedly denied the ability of anyone,
anywhere along the banks of the river to hear her.  She didn't feel afraid,
but she felt nervous, exploring new territory emotionally as well as
geographically.  She was naked in the woods, and her clothes were nearly a
hundred feet away now, across a river.  She was vulnerable.

   Despite her nervousness, she felt the exhilaration of her position.  She
had been reborn, and now she walked through her own private Eden.  And it
was beautiful: lusher and greener than she would have expected.  She
pressed on, creeping through the tiny island forest to see what was on the
other side.

   The gloom around her brightened as she drew closer to the far, sunny
side of the island.  The forest cover receded.  The canopy of trees
overhead drew back.  The path opened, revealing the view across to the
other side of the river.  Without thinking, Rachel kept walking.  A little
sun-lit sandy beach lay ahead, and Rachel thought it would be nice to lay
nude in the sun and cool her feet in the river.

   Rachel jumped and stopped, however, at the sound of laughter.  It came
from across the river, and the sound carried easily across the water
despite the stronger flow of water on this side of the island.  The river
was wider and faster on this side, and Rachel's eyes followed the eddies
and ripples until they looked up and saw three figures standing on a pebbly
beach at the water's edge, skipping stones into the waves.  It was Jeremy
and his two friends.  Their bikes lay on the ground behind them.

   Rachel realized that she stood not two feet from the end of the shadows
and that nothing obscured the view of her by the boys.  She drew back and
hid behind a thick tree, deep in the island shade.  She peeked her head
around the trunk and watched what the boys were doing.

   They hadn't seen her yet.  If they had, they would have been craning
their necks and focusing like a laser on trying to see her naked figure. 
Instead, they were throwing stones into the river and bantering and
insulting each other the way college boys that age do.

   Rachel's body shuddered.  It had been close.  A few more steps forward
and the sun would have lit up her body like a spotlight, and no doubt those
three young men would have seen her and recognized her right away.  And
then...  Rachel didn't even want to think about it.  She had no doubt they
would tell everyone that they had seen her naked.  Everyone -- everyone --
would know she was running around naked showing off her body to her son's
friends.  She'd never live it down.

   But they hadn't seen her, and for now Rachel was safely hidden in the
shadows and behind the tree, and she could watch them and hear them, less
than a hundred feet away, while naked.

   Intermixed with her fear was a delicious thrill, rippling through her
nude body.  She looked down at her figure, dry now that the water had
evaporated.  What the boys wouldn't give to see her.  They'd love that,
wouldn't they?  Watching her step out from the shadows and reveal her
nudity.  Rachel looked at vulva.  They'd get a good view of it, too,
because other than a tightly trimmed brown landing strip above her clit,
her pussy was bare.

   Thinking about it stirred a tingling between her legs.  Rachel's
position in the island woods so near the college boys made her horny.

   Rachel looked this way and that, at her surroundings.  On the right side
of the thick tree trunk behind which she stood, a sturdy branch slanted up
and away only a few feet off the ground.  Between that branch, a light
screen of the tree's low-drooping branches hung between her and the young
men on the riverbank.  Rachel had a naughty idea.  She had never had an
idea like this one before.  It was perfect.  She could indulge her
new-found enjoyment of her exhibitionism without any real risk that the
boys would see her.

   Rachel reached to a smaller branch that splayed out from the trunk above
the large one, and she pulled herself up.  It was an awkward maneuver,
especially when done naked, and the skin of her bare thighs scraped along
the rough bark of the big tree branch as she hoisted herself on it.  After
a few more seconds and roughed-up skin, Rachel sat on the big branch facing
the young men through the light screen of leaves and branches, steadying
herself by grabbing the smaller branch overhead.

   She felt confident -- but not entirely confident --that they couldn't
see her, even if they looked in her direction.  The leaf cover wasn't
complete, but it was decent, and they stood in the bright sun while she sat
in the forest shade.  She could watch them, not far away, knowing that she
was completely naked and facing them, but they couldn't see her.

   The sensation was exquisite.

   She spread her legs wider.  She was showing her pussy to them now, in a
way, even if they couldn't, or didn't, actually see her.

   Her left hand held on to the branch.  Her right hand drifted lazily to
her breast, cupping it and kneading it.  Her fingertips closed on an
aroused and erect nipple and pinched it.  She squealed softly, almost
involuntarily.  She knew the boys couldn't hear her over the sounds of the
water, but she had to be careful, nevertheless.

   The breeze picked up again, and a gust of wind swept the island forest.
It felt good against her skin and hummed through the trees.

   She heard the boys' laughter across the flowing water.  She couldn't
make out everything they said, but she could make out much of it.  That's
when she heard someone say, unmistakably, her name: "Rachel Gray."

   She saw them high-fiving each other and laughing.  One of them cupped
his crotch.  The words "hot MILF" drifted over the river to her.

   My God, they were talking about her.

   Rachel was surprised and aroused to know the three young men were
thinking about her, and that they thought she was "hot." It was one thing
that they'd ogled her in the park, but it was another that they were
talking about her half an hour later.

   Rachel's right hand drifted down, from her breast over her belly and
down between her legs.  It was wet there, from more than just river water.

   Her fingers met her flesh.  They spread the flesh open, and ran up and
down, tickling her lips, mashing them, and pushing them aside to gain
access to the pearl of her sex and the slit that lay underneath it.

   Rachel began masturbating herself.  Her left hand still clung to the
small tree branch, and her eyes remained fixed on Jeremy and his friends
across the river, but the rest of her body surrendered to self-pleasure.

   With the two middle fingers of her right hand, she tapped and rubbed her
clit, hitting it, stroking it, encircling it in a swift motion.  Then the
same two fingers dove deep into her pussy and hooked up to meet her G-spot.
Rachel gasped with pleasure.  She'd never masturbated in such a public,
exposed place before.  Her body buzzed with pleasure, making it hard to
concentrate on the boys ahead of her.

   Rachel wanted more.  Her preferred method of masturbation required the
use of both hands, so she spread her legs wider and used her thighs and
shins to squeeze the thick branch under her ass and hold her body in
position, and she took her hand off the branch overhead.  That hand flew to
her clitoris while the other one busied itself inside her pussy.

   She put one finger inside herself, and then two.  The fingers curled up
and in.  As they pressed against the spongy mass inside, the finger on her
clit pushed down until the fingers of one hand could feel the fingers of
the other.  It felt naughty and wonderful.

   "Do you like that?" she asked, looking through the shade and tree cover
to where the boys played across the river.  She knew they could not see
her, but she liked imagining that they could.  She opened her pussy wider
with one hand and imagined them all gazing at her pink, wet depths as she
squirmed on the tree branch.

   A delicious wave swept through her body and Rachel suddenly realized
she'd brought herself close to orgasm.  Did she dare bring herself to
completion with the boys so close by?  She did.  One pair of fingers
circled and mashed against her clit while the other pair rapidly thrust in
and out of her pussy.

   The orgasm came in no time -- faster than she expected, and harder, too.
Her body shook and she threw her head back and almost wailed in delight
before realizing where she was.  Only a weird half-squeal escaped her
mouth. A hand withdrew from her pussy to cover it and prevent it from
making more noise.

   The swift movement of her hand upset her balance on the branch. 
Rachel's body slipped forward.  Her butt scraped against the branch bark
and her legs and arms went flailing, trying in vain to recover her
position. Rachel fell off the branch and crashed into a bush below.  She
rolled forward.

   "Shit!" she called out, heedless of her position or the young men's
presence nearby.

   She lay on her butt, sprawled out in a clump of bushes and tall grass,
several feet forward of the branch on which she'd sat.  The leafy cover
that had protected her from view of Jeremy and his friends was no longer
there.  Rachel looked up from her awkward position and could see them
already turning in her direction.

   "What was that?" she heard one call.

   "Shit," she said again.  There was no easy or quiet way to extricate
herself from the spot in which she'd fallen, but extricate herself she
must. She turned around, so they wouldn't see her face, and did her best to
scramble through the dense shrubbery.  To Rachel, her movements sounded
like the noise of elephant herd.  There was no way to be quiet.

   "Holy shit!" she heard one of the boys say.  "That's a naked woman."

   A few more scrapes and scratches later through the bushes, and Rachel
clambered through the brush to the protection of the tree trunk.  Its bulk
shielded her from view of the boys.  She peeked her head slightly out to
the side so she could see what they were doing.  Her face was shrouded in
shadow and screened by bushes again, so she felt safe they couldn't see her
anymore.

   "I don't see her," said one of the boys.

   "It was definitely a naked woman," Jeremy said.

   "Did you get a good look at her?"

   "No, it was too quick.  A little tit, and a nice butt.  Dirty blond
hair."

   "Wait a sec.  Do you think it could be --"

   "Aaron's Mom?"

   Rachel closed her eyes.  She was mortified.  This couldn't be happening.

   "I don't know," Jeremy continued.  "She wasn't wearing a scrunchie in
her hair.  But maybe."

   "That would be wild," another one said.

   "Let's find out," said the third.

   "Think we can swim over there?"

   "No," said Jeremy.  "Current's too fast.  And I didn't bring anything to
swim in.  I'm not stripping naked.  Not like that chick."

   "Let's ride over there and find out."

   "Good idea," said Jeremy.  "The bridge is only two miles downriver.  If
we go fast, we might catch her."

   "That would be so wild.  Aaron's Mom running around naked."

   "She's hot, too," said Jeremy.  "The way she looked in those booty
shorts."

   "I'd tap that," said another.  "Let's go."

   They didn't speak loudly, but their voices carried across the water and
Rachel heard almost every word, until a gust of wind swept over the island
and drowned out their voices.  She watched as they turned from the
riverbank, scooped up their bikes, and took off.

   Rachel did a quick calculation in her head.  She didn't have much time.
It wouldn't take the boys long to cover the four miles between themselves
and her location.  But if she scrambled, she could get dressed, run fast,
and maybe make it home before they caught up with her.  No one would be the
wiser.

   Rachel, her bare skin tingling with excitement and fear, scurried,
naked, back through the island forest to the opposite side.  She plunged
into the water.  Having done so, she realized there was a problem she
hadn't accounted for.  The little beach she just jumped from was halfway
down the island, and that meant that as she swam to the other side the
current would carry her downriver, well past the spot where she'd left her
clothes and possibly downriver of the island, where she might be more
exposed to view.  She angled the direction of her swimming upstream and
swam as hard as she could to fight the current.  Rachel was a strong
swimmer, but not strong enough to fight the river completely.

   She attacked the water with strong, swift freestyle strokes.  A panicky
feeling rose in her breast, making it harder to breathe.  But she couldn't
stop.

   By the time she drew near the opposite shore, where the river was
shallower and the current less strong, Rachel was well downstream of where
she had left her clothes.  She lurched out of the river onto a dirt bank.
The shore between her and her clothes upstream was completely overgrown,
and the bank beneath the water fell away steeply, making passage along the
river back to her clothes difficult.

   Fortunately, a little path led away from the bank on which she stood, so
she chose to follow it.  She hadn't been on that path before and would just
have to take her chance that no one else was there.

   As she ran, the breeze rose again, and it chilled her soaking body. 
Water poured from her hair.  Rachel paused as the little path leading away
from the riverbank intersected the larger dirt path that ran parallel to
it. She turned right.  Her wet feet were now caked in dirt from the path.
Rachel shook with nervousness.  She counted down the minutes.  Jeremy and
his friends would reach her soon, and she had to hurry to get away from
them.

   She found the right-side path and turned on it, and a few paces later
she found the spot where she'd left her clothes.

   But they weren't there.

   Her shoes still lay on the ground, where she had left them, along with
the socks and scrunchie.  But her bra and shorts were missing.  They were
not draped over the bush anymore.

   Rachel panicked, and turned in every direction.  Was this a practical
joke?  Had someone taken her shorts and bra?  There was no sign or sound of
anyone nearby.

   She stared at the bush, and its branches twisted toward the river in a
sudden gust of wind.

   She realized what must have happened.  Her clothes had fallen off the
bush because of the wind.  They'd been blown into the river.

   Rachel walked to the riverbank again, and she stared into the current to
see if she could spot her clothes.  She saw nothing.

   This couldn't be happening.  This couldn't be happening.

   She scanned the river, her eyes moving back and forth between the island
the riverbank, further and further downstream.  She saw no sign of her
clothes, but downstream, past where the two branches of the river
reconnected below the island, she saw a kayaker.  For a moment, he stopped
paddling, and he picked something out of the water.

   It was baby blue.  It was her bra top.

   "Shit!" she said again.

   Rachel didn't know what to do.  She was in full panic-mode, and her
brain wasn't working very well.  The kayaker continued paddling downstream,
having taken the bra top.  He was too far away to hear her, if she called
to him, and, besides, she didn't want to scream that she was missing her
clothes to anyone and everyone that might hear nearby.

   Rachel froze.  Her mind couldn't form a plan.

   She could run along the trail after the kayaker, but he was moving fast,
and she might not be able to catch up to him.  If she did, she'd have to
reveal her nakedness to him, and to anyone else that might be running along
the way.  Jeremy and his friends might catch up to her before that
happened, and that...  would be a disaster.

   Rachel was an administrator at a nearby Catholic school.  If word got
out that she was running around the river naked -- and it would get out,
knowing what she did of her son's friends -- she'd lose her job.  She was
sure of it.

   She didn't know what to do, but she couldn't run naked downriver, away
from her home, drawing closer to Jeremy and his friends, uncertain whether
she'd even be able to retrieve her clothes.

   Rachel decided she would have to take her chances running the other way,
back toward her house.  Somehow or another -- she had no idea how -- she'd
have to thread her way carefully along the river and through her
neighborhood, back to the house, without being seen.  Maybe she could dart
from tree to tree or bush to bush.

   It wasn't a good plan, but it was all her panicked brain could come up
with.

   She pulled her shoes from under the bush.  She dipped her feet in the
river to rinse them off, plopping her bare butt down on the damp ground. 
Her hands shook so badly she could barely get her shoes on, let alone lace
them up.  But eventually, she managed to do it.  She gathered her wet hair
with her scrunchie.

   Rachel stood up, wiped the dirt off her backside, and ran.

   She ran up the little path away from the river and turned right on the
dirt trail.  She would follow this trail as long as she could, because the
traffic on it was much lighter than on the Rivertrail it paralleled.  She'd
have to take her chances that nobody was using it.  She supposed if she
paid careful attention, she might be able to duck behind some bushes if she
heard someone coming ahead of her, but the trail twisted and turned so much
that it would be easy to stumble on someone without warning.  She would
have to take her chances.

   She ran, as fast as she could, naked, through the woods along the river.

   Rachel was aware, more fervently than ever, of her nakedness -- her
breasts swaying wildly as she ran along the path, her bare flanks drying as
the water evaporated from her skin.

   She tried to calculate the time.  She didn't know how many minutes had
elapsed since Jeremy and his friends had ridden away to find her.  She knew
she did not have a lot of time left.

   The dense forest cover mostly, but not entirely, shielded her from view
from the Rivertrail.  Here and there, the forest cover opened.  She heard
voices to her left, and through intermittent openings in the bushes she saw
two older women running together the other way, perhaps 50 feet from Rachel
at their closest.  They were intent on the Rivertrail ahead and didn't see
her.  Rachel watched them carefully as they passed by her.

   Suddenly, a form loomed in front of her and before Rachel could respond
she and the form collided, and she was knocked back.  Her bare ass hit the
ground.  Her legs went flying from under her.  Her hands went behind her to
catch her fall.

   Rachel looked up.  Standing over her, mouth agape, was the good-looking
younger man she had passed earlier in her run.  His shirtless torso was
shiny with sweat.

   Rachel, in an instant, realized she was showing off her breasts and
pussy to the man.

   She emitted a high-pitched squeak and covered herself the best she could
with her hands and arms.

   The man threw his hands out to his sides, in a gesture apparently
intended to show his intentions were good.  His face showed a look of
concern.

   "I'm sorry!" he said.  "I didn't see you.  I was coming around a bend.
Are you...  are you OK?  Are you in trouble?  Did anybody hurt you?" He
looked away from her, scanning the surroundings.

   "No," said Rachel.  "It's not like that." She wondered how she would
explain what it was like.  "I...  I went skinny-dipping in the river.  My
clothes fell in and got swept away.  I'm trying to figure out how to get
home without people seeing me."

   The man turned back to her, but he averted his eyes.  Rachel could tell
he was struggling between a desire to look at her and a wish to be
respectful.

   "Uh," he said.  "Is there something I can do to help?"

   Somewhere in the back of her panicked brain Rachel appreciated both that
he wanted to look at her and that he wanted to be respectful and not gawk
at her nudity.

   "Ah, maybe," she said.  "You don't have anything I could wear, do you?"
Rachel was nervous about how much of her body she exposed to him even with
her hands and arms draped over her private parts.

   "I'm sorry, I don't.  I'm just wearing these shorts, and nothing
underneath.  I can't give you my shorts.  The police probably would be more
likely to arrest a naked man than a naked woman."

   The police.  Holy hell.  Until now, Rachel hadn't even considered the
possibility of being arrested while running back to her house naked.  But
she might.  It just kept getting worse.

   "I have an idea," he said.  "I can try to help get you to my car.  I can
drive you home."

   Rachel didn't know this man, and she was nervous about putting her fate
in the hands of someone she didn't know.  But his plan was better than
hers. She couldn't imagine any way to run through her neighborhood naked
without being seen.

   "Where's your car?" she asked.

   "It's that way." He pointed behind her, in the direction from which she
had come.  "At the park, about two miles away."

   "Oh shit," Rachel muttered.

   "What?" he asked.

   "That's in the opposite direction from my house.  But the other thing
is...  please tell me you will be discreet and won't tell anybody about
this."

   "I won't," he said.  "I promise you."

   "Three young guys saw me, briefly.  I heard them say they are bicycling
this way to find me.  They're coming from that direction.  They're friends
of my son.  I can't let them find me.  It would be a disaster."

   "OK," the young man said.  "I'll help you avoid them.  I'm going that
way, anyway.  I'll help you get to my car and get home."

   A whisper of relief rose in Rachel's breast.  She was still panicky, but
just a bit less than before.

   "Thank you so much.  Could you...  turn the other way?"

   "What?"

   "I need to stand up, and...  well...  it's kind of awkward."

   "Oh, sure," he stammered.  He turned his head the other way.

   Rachel removed the arm across her boobs and used her hand to push
herself off the ground.  She stood up facing the man and recovered herself.
She saw him turn back to her.  He couldn't help but sweep his eyes up and
down her body.  Rachel smiled faintly despite her predicament.  The young
man was trying to be helpful, but he was obviously turned on.  A little
piece of her, buried deep, liked that.

   "I'm Mateo," he said, his brown eyes on hers.

   Rachel wasn't sure she wanted to tell him her name, but if he were going
to drive her home he would know where she lived and it wouldn't really
matter, would it?

   "Rachel," she said.

   He smiled.

   "I'd shake your hand, but --"

   "Yeah," she interrupted.  "Let's take a rain check on that."

   "We should probably get going," Mateo said.

   An idea came to Rachel.  Her brain was growing calmer.

   "Do you live nearby?" she asked.

   "Why?"

   "Well, another plan would be for me to hide here, and for you to go home
and get something for me to wear and bring it back.  I know it's a lot to
ask."

   "I would do that," he said.  "But I live about an hour away.  If I did
that you'd be out here for hours."

   That didn't sound like a good idea to Rachel.  She thought about having
him drive to her house and pick some clothes up for her, but she would have
to tell him where the key was and give him the code to turn off the alarm.
She was nervous about doing that with a stranger.  Plus, he had nothing to
write it down.  If he got it wrong, the alarm would go off and the cops
would show up, and they'd wonder where she was...  she didn't even want to
contemplate what might happen then.

   "Then it's Plan A," she said.  "Let's go.  Do you, uh, mind going ahead
of me?" She didn't want him staring at her ass as they ran to the park
together.

   "Of course," he said.

   Mateo, keeping his eyes respectfully ahead, scooted to the side of
Rachel on the narrow trail, and he began jogging slowly on the trail,
heading back to the park.  To stay with him, Rachel had to pull her hands
and arms away from her body.  She ran behind him, now completely naked
again.  She thought how strange it was to be running completely naked and
exposed just feet away from a stranger.  Thank goodness he was being
respectful and, for the time being, looking forward and not sneaking
glances at her.

   "How fast do you want to go?" he asked.

   "This is a good pace," Rachel replied.

   "If I see anybody, I'll cough loudly.  Hopefully, you'll have time to
hide."

   "Thanks," Rachel said.  She knew it would help to put some space between
her and Mateo, so if he called, she'd have more time to hide from someone.
But she felt safer, somehow, staying near him.

   They moved swiftly along the dirt trail.  Thankfully, they hadn't run
into anyone, yet.

   Rachel reflected on the craziness of her predicament.  She was running,
fully naked (except for her running shoes), away from home, trusting in the
assistance of a stranger.  He seemed nice enough, and he was nice to look
at -- tall and leanly muscled.  She thought about the weirdness that she
was the naked one but that she was checking him out.

   It was a beautiful day: warm but not too hot.  The air was fragrant with
the many scents of nature in mid-summer.  It was a perfect day for running,
or for being naked -- but not quite in this way.

   Mateo suddenly made a loud coughing noise, and Rachel looked both ways
for a place to hide.  Hiding places were few.  But she saw a gap between
two large bushes and pressed her way between them, scooting behind one and
dropping to the ground.  She heard Mateo's voice, unnaturally loud, on the
trail ahead.

   "Nice day for a bike ride!" he called.

   "Shit," Rachel whispered to herself.

   "Yeah." It was Jeremy's voice.  They'd reached her location.

   "Hey," he continued.  "You didn't happen to see a naked chick around
here, did you?"

   "Naked chick?" Mateo asked.  "No.  Why do you ask?"

   "We were on the other side of the river, and we saw a naked chick over
here, so we came to check it out."

   "You guys aren't going to harass her, are you?" Mateo's voice sounded
stern.

   "Good for you," Rachel said to herself.

   "No, nothing like that," Jeremy said.  "We just thought maybe we knew
her, and we'd say hello.  That's all."

   "Right," Rachel muttered.

   "Sorry, guys," Mateo said.  "I haven't seen any naked ladies.  Maybe you
should keep going upriver a ways and look."

   "Maybe," Jeremy said.  "But I'm pretty sure she was right around here.
She had a hot body.  We'll keep looking."

   "You do that," Mateo said.

   A few seconds later Rachel, behind the cover of the bushes, saw the
three boys on their bikes ride past on the dirt trail.  They were looking
for her every which way around them, so she scrunched down as low as she
could to stay out of sight.  When they were gone, she stood up and returned
to the trail.  Mateo was there, waiting for her.  His mouth dropped open
again.  Rachel, having grown more accustomed to her nudity, had failed to
cover herself.  She was giving Mateo a full-frontal view, and he obviously
was enjoying it.

   "They're probably going to come back this way," Mateo said.  "I should
probably stay behind you this time and warn you if they return."

   Rachel said nothing at first.  Mateo's reasoning was sound, but he might
just want to watch her naked ass while she ran.C But he was right.  He
could block the trail and give her a little time to hide again if Jeremy
and his friends came back to them from behind.

   "OK," she said.  "Let's go."

   Her arms were at her side, and she was aware that she was displaying all
of her nude body to a man she'd just met.  It no longer seemed as
mortifying to do so as before.  She even felt a tingle of pleasure at the
feel of Mateo's eyes on her body.

   She turned and started running again.  She picked up the pace.  The
faster they got to the park, the better chance there was to avoid being
caught by Jeremy and the others.

   Despite the risk of exposure, she had to admit there was something
delicious about running in the nude.  She had never done it before.  She
felt the air on her body in a way she never had.  She noticed the way the
sun's rays struck her skin.  Her senses had sprung to new life.  Her ears
picked up with greater sensitivity the chirping of birds and buzzing of
insects.  It was like a musical soundtrack to her crazy adventure.

   She pushed on, running quickly, her feet nimbly picking their way over
the irregular surface of the dirt trail.  Uncertain of where Mateo was, she
turned around.  He was not far behind, and his eyes were fixed on her
breasts, suddenly come into view with her shift in position.  She turned
forward again, certain that Mateo's eyes seldom left her ass as she ran
ahead of him.

   "He's getting quite a view," she said almost silently.

   They moved quickly, but for Rachel, time moved at an agonizing pace. 
She was still vulnerable while running along the trail to being caught and
discovered by Jeremy and friends, and she absolutely could not let that
happen.

   More minutes passed, and her breath grew more labored, when at last they
reached the edge of the park.

   The wild tree and bush cover stopped at the park's border.  Beyond lay
green grass and big trees spaced far apart.

   Mateo pointed.  Rachel followed his finger.  It led her to a blue
Nissan, in a parking lot.

   "That's my car," he said.

   Her heart sank.  The car was at least several hundred yards away.  There
was almost no cover between where she crouched naked and the car -- only
some trees and a small free-standing restroom building halfway between her
and the car.  She looked around.  The one thing she had going for her was
that not many people were in the park.  Two people threw a frisbee a few
hundred yards away.  Somebody read a book on a blanket under the shade of a
tree.

   But Jeremy and his friends would be back soon.  She just knew it.  And
they'd be coming back on the trail behind her.  She couldn't stay where she
was, or they'd see her.  It was only a matter of time.  She and Mateo
couldn't wait.

   "I've got an idea," she said.

   "I'm all ears," Mateo replied.

   "Let's make a dash for that tree, that one there." Rachel pointed to an
enormous oak tree, with a thick trunk and a broad crown of branches.  "Then
if the coast is still clear we'll run to that bathroom building.  And if
it's still clear we'll run to your car."

   "Sounds like as good a plan as any," Mateo said.  Rachel thought it was
easy for him to say.  He didn't have a naked ass on the line.

   "All right," she said.  "Let's go...  NOW!"

   They ran out of their hiding place into the open park.  Rachel's nude
body streaked across the grass in broad daylight.  She ran as fast as she
could for the pseudo-protection of the big oak tree.  Mateo ran alongside
her.  A grim laugh escaped her as she sprinted forward.

   This cannot be real, can it?  she asked herself silently.

   All her senses, and the overpowering fear of being discovered, told her
the experience was indeed real.

   She and Mateo made it the oak tree.  As she slipped her body behind it,
she looked back, and at that very moment she saw Jeremy and his two friends
emerge from the dirt trail and ride into the park on their bikes.  They
rode to the Rivertrail and continued riding in her direction.  If they kept
going on that path their bikes would pass near her, and they would
doubtless see her.  Rachel began to panic again.  Mateo stood next to her,
behind the tree.

   The boys stopped their bikes.

   Rachel was aware that by focusing so much on the boys behind her she
ignored the possibility of someone coming upon her from behind.  Her bare
bottom was exposed.  She turned to Mateo.

   "Can you get behind me?  To shield me from behind so nobody sees me?"

   "Sure," he said.  He placed his body directly behind hers.  His body
didn't touch hers, but she felt his heat.  Rachel was near sensory
overload. She feared she might faint.

   The boys stopped their bikes to the side of the Rivertrail, and they
turned away, back toward the direction from which they'd come.  Rachel
couldn't hear what they said, but they pointed and gesticulated, and she
guessed they were wondering where she'd gone.  Rachel knew the boys
wondered where the naked woman had gone.

   "Let's make a break for the bathroom," she said.

   "Now?" Mateo asked.

   "Yes.  While they're looking the opposite way.  We can't stay here. 
They'll see me if we do."

   "Whatever you say."

   "I say this." And she sprinted from her place behind the tree, as fast
as possible, toward the far side of the little bathroom building.  Rachel
couldn't remember the last time she had run so fast.  She ran like a deer,
bounding through the open park in long, quick strides.  It took a few
seconds for Mateo to catch up with her.

   At last, they made it to the bathroom building.  They scurried around
it, to the back side.  The doors to the bathroom faced the other way,
toward Jeremy and his friends.

   "What do you see?" Rachel asked.

   Mateo left her side and snuck his head around the side of the bathroom.
He ducked his head back immediately.

   "They're coming this way," he said.  "I think they're going to use the
bathroom."

   "I can't take much more this," Rachel said.  "I'm a wreck." Her body
shivered.

   "Hang in there," Mateo said.

   Rachel pressed the backside of her body against the stucco surface of
the bathroom building.

   "Can you stand in front of me?" she asked Mateo.  "Shield me.  Don't let
anybody on this side of the building see me."

   Mateo obliged her.  He stood in front of her, his partially clad body
shielding her fully nude one.  He drew close.

   Rachel heard voices.  The boys approached the bathroom.  Their voices
grew louder and more comprehensible.

   "What's happening?" she asked.

   "I'll check," Mateo said.  He left her for a moment and glanced around
the side of the bathroom.

   "They're coming this way," he said.

   Rachel was trapped.  If she tried to run away from the bathroom in any
direction, they'd be sure to see her.  She had no choice but to remain
hidden on the opposite side of it and wait.

   Mateo took his place in front of her to shield her from view by anyone
behind the bathroom.

   The boys' voices became louder and clearer.

   "I thought we might see her," Jeremy said.

   "Too bad," another voice said.  "That would have been hot."

   "She had a nice ass," the third guy said.  "I wish I could have seen it
again."

   "I wonder if that was her," Jeremy said.

   "Who -- Aaron's Mom?"

   "Yeah," Jeremy replied.

   "Come on.  You don't really think Aaron's Mom would be running around
naked, do you?"

   "I don't know," Jeremy said.  "I just had a feeling.  It kinda looked
like her."

   "Guess we'll never know."

   "Guess not," Jeremy said.  "Now I gotta take a leak."

   Rachel waited with torturous patience as each of the boys used the
bathroom.  She heard the tinkle of pee coming through the little open,
grated window overhead.  Mateo stood directly in front of her, shielding
her from view of anyone.  Her body squirmed with fear and impatience and
her hips pushed forward and for a second, she felt a bulge under Mateo's
shorts.  She glanced down.  It was there, no doubt about it.  Mateo was
aroused to be so close to Rachel's naked body.

   Eventually, agonizing minutes later, the boys finished.  Rachel heard
bikes being picked up off the ground and mounted.

   "Don't let them see me," Rachel pleaded in a whisper to Mateo.

   Mateo drew closer to her.  Her hands went to his sweaty torso.  His hips
pressed against her.  Mateo was taller than Rachel, and she felt the thick
bulge of his cock under his running shorts against her naked belly.

   She kept perfectly still and quiet.  To her left she saw the Jeremy and
his friends on their bikes ride past the bathroom.  They were not forty
feet away, but they were looking in the opposite direction, downriver,
toward the Rivertrail.  If they thought to glance back, they'd see her. 
Her heart beat fast with fear.  Fortunately, they eyes stayed ahead.  She
saw them ride to the trail, and then toward the bridge to the other side of
the river.

   When she realized she'd been holding her breath for a full minute, she
let it out in a huge sigh.

   She almost buckled.

   "God that was close."

   "You OK?" Mateo asked, holding her up with his hands on her arms.

   "Barely," Rachel managed to say.  "Let's get out of here."

   "Last one to the car is a rotten egg," Mateo said.

   With that encouragement Rachel broke free from Mateo's grasp and
sprinted at full speed across the park, toward the car.  It was a hundred
yards, maybe more, across an open lawn with no trees or obstructions of any
kind.  Without breaking stride Rachel looked in both directions.  To her
right she saw a man with a frisbee in his hand stop what he was doing and
stare open-mouthed at her.  She was caught.  He cat-called her from across
the park.  Rachel felt a twinge of annoyance, but there was nothing she
could do about it.  All she could think about was the relative security and
privacy of Mateo's car.

   She pulled up when she got to it.

   "Open the door, please!" Rachel cried to Mateo.

   Mateo fumbled for the key in the pocket in his shorts.  The seconds
passed with agonizing slowness.  It was torture to Rachel.  Finally, she
heard the chirp and the mechanical sound of the door opening.  She pulled
the handle on the passenger side and got in.

   Finally.

   She closed her eyes and sighed with relief.

   When she opened them, she spun her head around every which way.

   "Don't you have a shirt I can wear?" she asked Mateo, who was settling
into the driver's seat.

   "Sorry," he said, sheepishly.  "I decided not to bring one.  I figured
I'd just get it all sweaty and have to throw it in the wash unnecessarily."

   "You drove for an hour to the park, topless," Rachel said.  "That's
bold."

   His eyes gave her the once over.  "You should talk."

   "No kidding," she replied.  "Can we get out of here?  Take me home
please."

   Rachel shrunk down into her seat to prevent being seen.  The windows
were tinted, a little bit, and that provided a bit of comfort, but the
tinting wasn't enough to prevent a determined gawker from seeing that the
pretty woman in the Nissan's passenger seat was naked.

   "I'm almost home," Rachel muttered softly to herself.  "I'm almost home.
Just a few more minutes."

   "What did you say?" Mateo asked.

   "Nothing."

   Rachel gave Mateo directions.  He pulled the car out of the parking lot
and soon they were driving back toward her house on Laurel Lane.

   It seemed to Rachel that the car moved with an abnormal and perverse
sluggishness, as though wanting to prolong the chance for her to be
exposed. She knew, rationally, that it wasn't so, and that Mateo drove
quickly but carefully.  To say the least, it wouldn't do to get pulled over
for speeding.

   No sooner did that thought form when she saw a sheriff's deputy patrol
car parked at the side of the road ahead.  Her heart rose into her throat.
No doubt he had his meter out and was looking for speeders to pull over. 
She glanced at Mateo's speedometer -- right at the speed limit.  She looked
at Mateo and could see that he was aware of the sheriff's car.  She shrunk
further down into her seat to remain out of view of the deputy.

   They passed the deputy's car without incident.  Rachel felt like she
might pee with nervous relief.  She crossed her legs.

   Soon Mateo pulled onto Laurel Lane, crowned in its familiar canopy of
huge trees.  Rachel saw Mary Millstone in her front yard as they passed by,
but fortunately Mary was focused on watering her hydrangeas and paid no
attention to the blue Nissan.

   "That's it," Rachel said quietly, pointing to her driveway.  A portion
of the driveway extended directly in front of the door.  "Pull in there,"
Rachel directed Mateo.  Mateo did as she asked, and the car came to a stop.

   Rachel turned this way and that, scanning the street.  The blue Nissan
blocked the view to the door, partly, but not completely.  There was no
sign of anybody who might see her, but she knew the nosy neighbors on
Laurel Lane might be curious about who might get out of an unfamiliar blue
Nissan in front of Rachel's house.

   "Come with me, just in case," Rachel said to Mateo.  She wasn't sure
what she meant, but she felt safer with him close by as long as she was
naked outside.

   Her reconnaissance done, Rachel got out of the car, hunched over, and
ran to the front door.  She pulled the key out from under the mat, put it
in the front door, opened it, and stepped inside, to the air-conditioned
safety of her house.  Mateo followed her.

   Rachel hopped over to the house alarm console on the wall nearby and
punched in the code.

   She sighed, and she staggered back toward the front door.

   She collapsed into Mateo's arms.  He held her up.  Her nude body was
pressed against him, and that meant her bare breasts were mashed against
his bare chest, but she couldn't think about that.  Rachel needed a moment
not to think about anything, and she needed someone to hold her up.

   "It's OK," Mateo said.

   She guessed that he was right, but she needed a little more time to
process the thought.

   Rachel felt spent.  Her legs quivered.  Had it not been for Mateo, she
would have sunk to the floor.  She might have cried.  But Mateo's arms and
steady presence calmed her.  He said nothing.  Rachel thought how strange
it was that she was content to stand naked in the arms of a man she barely
knew.  She didn't know his last name.  She didn't know what he did for a
living.  She didn't know where he lived.  But his body was lean and lightly
muscular and comforting, and he had a nice quality about him: masculine and
safe.  For the moment, she needed safe.

   Rachel leaned forward, pressing against him, and stood still in his
arms.

   "I don't know what you must think of me," she said, after perhaps a
minute.

   "I don't know," he said at last.  "I don't really know you.  But you are
beautiful.  And you have a nice house."

   Rachel laughed a little at that.

   "Thank you," Rachel said.  "Thank you for saying that, and thank you for
helping me."

   Her legs steadied, and she stepped back from Mateo, in the foyer of her
house.  She held her hands at her sides.  Her nude body lay completely
exposed to him.  She gazed, frankly, over Mateo's body -- the long, firm
legs, the flat, striated wall of his abdomen, the surprising breadth of his
shoulders over his lean torso.  But for his brief running shorts, he was as
exposed as she was.  His skin, hair, and eyes were dark.  She knew nothing
about him but guessed that he was of Latino heritage.  As her eyes moved
over his body, his eyes moved over hers.  She felt pleasure and comfort in
his gaze.  His eyes lit up with excitement but his body was composed and
still.  She felt safe in his presence.  After a minute or so of mutual
admiration his voice broke the silence.

   "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

   Rachel nodded.  "Sure." She grinned.  "I think you've earned that."

   He approached her and cradled her waist in his hands.  His fingers lay
strong but gentle against her sides.  A hand slid to her ass and pulled her
to him.  His head went forward and bent to the side and Rachel bent her
head to the side the other way to meet him.  Their lips met.

   Mateo kissed her in a way that was unfamiliar to Rachel -- insistent,
but slow, and gentle.  Stan always had kissed her in a completely different
way -- in an impatient rush.  Stan was the sort of man who always
desperately wanted to get some place but could never take the time to enjoy
himself when he got there.  His kisses and lovemaking were like that.  But
Mateo's kiss -- for it was that, just one long, slow kiss -- was completely
different.  Rachel felt that every part of her lips was bein slowly and
fully caressed by every part of Mateo's lips.  No part of her lips was
ignored.  His tongue didn't come too fast, but when it did come, it was
welcome, and she opened her mouth eagerly to let it in.  Their tongues
played and danced with each other.  Rachel's body shivered.

   They drew their mouths apart.  Rachel bent down, and her hands went to
Mateo's running shorts.  She gazed at his face, and he nodded.  She pulled
them down, and his cock -- hard and pleasantly long -- sprang forward and
wobbled in front of her.  She kept pulling the shorts down until they were
on the floor, and he stepped out of them.  She kicked off her running
shoes, and he kicked off his.  They threw their socks to the foyer floor.
They both stood completely naked before one another.

   Rachel grabbed Mateo's cock.  She liked its hardness.

   "Not here," she said.  "Outside."

   "What?" Mateo asked.

   "Outside.  It's Nude Day.  We have to do this outside.  In the
backyard."

   "Whatever you say," he said.

   Rachel led Mateo by his cock through the house, never letting go,
leading him to the backdoor, which she opened with her right hand while her
left held fast to his shaft.

   The two of them stepped naked together into the backyard, under the sun
again.

   Rachel pulled Mateo forward, toward the swimming pool.  Near the pool
stood an enormous grill, one of Stan's favorite toys, encased in tile and
steel and concrete.  Rachel turned around, sank to her knees, kneeling on
the patio tile, and she took Mateo's hard, swaying cock in her hand.

   She enclosed her lips around it -- just the head at first.  She sucked
hard and her cheeks caved in, and she looked up at Mateo, whose face was,
frankly, cute with disbelief at his luck, and she gave him a doe-eyed
expression that spoke of submission and supplication that every man she'd
ever known wanted.  Mateo seemed no different.  He stared at her, rapt by
the loving attention she gave his penis.

   Then she began really sucking.  The fingers of her right hand encircled
the base of his shaft, and the fingers of her left cupped his balls.  Her
tongue traced the edge of his glans while she kept up the rhythmic sucking
pressure on the helmet of his cock.  Her eyes never broke contact with his.

   Stan had been a demanding but unappreciative lover.  At his direction
and insistence, she'd learned skills at lovemaking, like giving good blow
jobs, but she'd never felt they were being applied to, or appreciated by,
the right man.  This felt different.  Mateo gasped, and his eyes opened
wide.  Rachel had never felt a harder cock in her mouth.  She wanted it
hard.  She wanted to make this cock happy.

   "That's amazing," Mateo said.

   It was amazing for Rachel, as well.  Mateo was her first man since her
divorce.  The hard, thick cock in her mouth was like candy.

   She felt Mateo's hands grasp the sides of her head.  He looked at her
and his eyes bored into hers, wide and curious, and she nodded as well as
she could with the thick cock in her mouth to signal that Mateo should do
what he wanted to do.

   His hands pulled her head forward and his cock went deeper into her
mouth.  Rachel gagged.  She'd never quite mastered the art of
deepthroating, but she liked the challenge and enjoyed the pleasure It gave
her partner to take her mouth that way.  Mateo fucked her mouth deep and
hard.  Rachel had to draw breaths where she could between the rapid thrusts
of his man shaft into her.  She growled and grunted to signal her pleasure.
Drool trickled out the side of her mouth.

   They went on like that for a long time -- how long, Rachel didn't know.
But she knew what she wanted, and it was her house and her day and by God
she was going to get what she wanted.  She wanted more than fellatio.

   She pulled her mouth off Mateo's cock, and it left her with a loud
slurpy "pop." Mateo looked at her, puzzled, but Rachel just smiled at him
and stood up.

   She turned around, away from Mateo.  She leaned forward, setting her
hands on the grill counter.  She pushed her ass back.  She said nothing
more.

   She didn't have to.  Mateo knew what she wanted, and her needs met his.
She felt strong hands grab her hips, and a hand lovingly slap her ass. 
Then she felt hard flesh -- Mateo's cock -- slap against her backside until
it slipped into the crevice between her ass cheeks.  It pushed forward, to
her waiting lips, and they gave way.  He pushed inside, and then they
fucked.

   He fucked her, not too fast and not too slow -- with long, steady, deep
thrusts, every one of which filled her with indescribable satisfaction. 
Rachel squealed and grunted, heedless of what her neighbors might hear. 
The fucking mattered more in that moment than anything else.  She pushed
back against every thrust to maximize the depth of his cock inside her. 
The thickness of his cock was a challenge, but she was so lubricated by her
arousal that it didn't matter.  Her pussy was so wet and slippery that
Mateo pistoned in and out of her with ease.

   "You have an amazing pussy," Mateo said.

   "It likes you," she said back to him.  "Just keep doing that."

   "I will."

   As their bodies slapped against one another it occurred to Rachel that
this was the first time she'd ever made love in her back yard.  Once, on a
summer evening years ago, she'd suggested doing it to Stan, but he refused.
It was too risky, too inappropriate.

   It was pleasant, after the nerve-wracking events of the day, to lose
herself in the pleasure of being fucked -- that glorious combination of
pure self-pleasure and submission to a man's needy cock.  Her thoughts of
the day slipped away.  All she felt or cared about or thought about was
Mateo's hard thrusts into her.

   And thrust he did.  Mateo was a good lover.  It was almost surreal to
Rachel that she'd only met him a few hours ago, that she still didn't know
him, and yet that he was now pushing his cock up inside her in her
backyard. But however weird it was, it felt good.  Rachel closed her eyes
and savored the warmth of the sun on her face and the fast and furious
pressure of Mateo's cock against and inside her pussy.

   Her body rocked and her breasts swayed wildly at the movement of their
bodies together.  Her pussy grew wetter with increasing arousal, and the
sound of his cock moving in and out of her grew louder.

   Rachel groaned with pleasure and looked all around.  Tall shrubs and
trees screened her yard from view by neighbors in almost every direction,
so there was little risk that anyone would see her.  But it seemed fitting
to cap off Nude Day by making love outside, with no ceiling above her but
the bright blue sky.

   She heard Mateo's low delighted growling behind her.  His fingers dug
into her sides.  He kept coming at her, stroke after delicious stroke.

   "You're going to make me come soon," she said.

   "Me too," Mateo said.  "I'm going to come inside you."

   "I want that," Rachel said.

   She gripped the grill counter tighter, until her knuckles grew white,
and she pushed her ass back faster against Mateo, until the slapping of
their bodies grew loud.  Rachel knew that any of the neighbors over the
fence, if they were in their yards and bothered listening, could have heard
her being fucked by Mateo.  But she was long past caring about that.  She
wanted to come.  She wanted Mateo to come inside her.

   Rachel came first.  Mateo shifted his body, just slightly, but enough to
change the way his cock head hit her insides, and it sent her over the
edge. Her body surrendered and the wave shook her.  Her body spasmed. 
Flecks of moisture spritzed from her pussy and dotted her thighs and the
patio tile.  Rachel gasped and then cried out.  She couldn't help it.

   Her reaction spurred on his.  She felt the pace of his cock quicken, and
it almost felt like his cock widened at the last minute.  Rachel moaned at
its thickness in her.  She knew Mateo's forceful plunder of her depths
would leave her sore the next morning.  But she didn't care.  She needed to
feel his cock spill its seed inside her.

   She got it a minute later.  Mateo called out before he came -- a deep
baritone bellow into the summer sky -- and then Rachel felt his body shake
as he released inside her.

   His fingers clung forcefully to her hips, almost hurting her, as he
finished.  Their bodies shook together, and when the shaking was done, they
stood together in the backyard under the sun, his cock and her pussy still
joined, neither wanting to separate from the other.

   When their orgasms subsided, his cock slipped out of her and some of his
cum dripped out.  Some of it spilled to the tile patio and some of it
dribbled down her thigh.  She turned her body back to him and grabbed his
face in her hands and they kissed again.  The kiss lasted a long time.

   They finished kissing and pulled apart from one another.  They looked at
each other -- a man and a woman, naked, having just fucked one another,
both content and fulfilled, but barely knowing each other.  Rachel enjoyed
the lean, sculptured masculinity of Mateo's body, and she could tell from
the movement of his eyes on her that he enjoyed her body just as much. 
They said nothing for a while.

   "I'm curious," Mateo asked after a long silence.  "What made you do all
this?  You don't seem like the kind of girl to take such a risk."

   Rachel didn't know what to say.  She threw her hands up to the sky and
shrugged.

   "It's Nude Day."

   Mateo nodded.  "That's it?"

   "That's it," Rachel said, nodding back.

   "Was it good?" he asked.

   A broad smile swept over Rachel's face.  "It's the only Nude Day I've
celebrated, but yeah.  It was great.  I can say that now anyway.  It didn't
seem so great an hour ago."

   "I'm glad I could do my part," Mateo said.

   "You did more than that." She drew close to him.  "Maybe we can think
about the next Nude Day."

   "I like that idea."

   They kissed again, their bodies mashed tightly against one another. 
Mateo pulled away at last.

   "I have to go, Rachel."

   "OK.  See you later?"

   "Definitely."

   Mateo and Rachel walked back into the house, and he put his shorts and
shoes back on.  Rachel stayed naked.  She wrote something on piece of paper
and handed it to him.  "My number." She walked him to the door.

   "Bye," she said.

   "For now," he said.

   Mateo drove away.

   Rachel stood inside her house.  She was still naked.  She wondered how
long it had been since she had worn any clothing.  An indeterminate number
of hours.  However long it had been, she wasn't ready to get dressed yet.
After all, it was still Nude Day.

   Rachel strode through her house into the backyard.  All the delights of
the summer day still abounded -- the warmth of the air, the scents of
flowers, the sounds of life all around.

   "What a day," she said to herself.

   She threw her hands into the air and twirled.

   She stopped twirling suddenly when she noticed movement above and to the
side, beyond her fence, in a second-story window of her neighbor's house.
Her strange, silent, elderly neighbor Walter's face loomed in the window.
He was staring at her, and he was smiling.
   He gave her two thumbs up.