Return to college
Tue Jul 31, 2007 21:02142.165.9.198

My wife and I both took a year off from our jobs to attend university. We got 
an apartment close to the university. Almost all of the suites in the 
high-rise apartment building were occupied by other university students and a 
few professors.

After a short time we became friends with other couples who also lived at the 
apartment. We shared the cost of a propane BBQ and we set it up on the flat 
roof of the building. When the weather was good we went up to the roof for 
picnics.

Some of the students brought up lounge chairs or tanning matresses. University 
students seem to "push the envelope" at every opportunity. Many students are 
away from their parents for the first time. And they have youthful hormones. 
They are intoxicated by their first taste of freedom. The students who lived 
at our apartment were no exception.

Within a very short time there were girls in tiny bikinis. Then topless, Then 
naked. My wife lost her own inhibitions about nudity. In fact, it seems to me 
that she was the one who took the lead, every day setting a more daring 
example for the others to follow.

When the girls started to show up at our picnics in bikinis, my wife got a 
tiny, tiny g-string. From the beginning there were women who stretched out, 
front down, unfastening the bikini top in order to get an even tan on their 
backs. My wife was probably the first to actually take off her bikini top, 
and, she was the first to flip over onto her back to get a tan on her breasts. 
I remember the day that she didn't bother to put her bikini top back on when 
she came over to where we had the BBQ and icebox to get a burger and cold 
beer. It was a weird feeling to be standing around in a group of friends with 
my wife almost naked in our midst. But, everyone took it in stride. None of 
our friends did anything to cause my wife to feel that she was making a 
spectacle of herself, and, within an hour, there were other women doing the 
same thing.

I believe that my wife was also the trend setter when women started to get out 
of their bikini bottoms. I remember the day that she unfastened the knots at 
her hips. She tucked the loose strings under the triange of cloth that covered 
her crotch. Of course, that left the bikini bottom unsecured, and mobile. She 
pretended that her purpose was to avoid tan lines around her waist, but I knew 
her well enough to realize that she had an ulterior motive. An untied bikini 
bottom does not stay in place for long. When my wife moved around, mayby to 
sit up and take a sip from her bottle of beer, the scrap of cloth between her 
legs would move. A few minutes later she laid down again, and she was as good 
as naked. The next step was to stand up without bothering to do anything to 
keep her bikini bottom in place, absent mindedly allowing it to fall down to 
her feet. After that, it went almost unnoticed when she ambled over to the BBQ 
or the icebox.

My wife has always been an extremely extroverted type of person. She is 
chatty, a bit flirty. She attracts friends, both women and men. Her bikini 
"fashion statements" did not happen at the side of the crowd. She was the 
centre of attention, always in the midst of a group. Whatever she did was 
noticed, and, copied.

I admit that I have a jealous streak in my personality. I think that I may be 
a normal husband in that regard. I get anxious when my wife is showing off her 
body to other men. However, every time my jealousy started to take over, there 
would soon be other woman who were wearing as little, and shortly that level 
of nudity became the accepted norm for our group.

All the men in our little group of friends had spent hours and hours with my 
naked wife when we were on the apartment roof. I got used to it. By the time 
that cooler weather rolled in it didn't unnerve me that my wife didn't put on 
any clothing when those same friends were visiting us in our apartment.

Due to my wife's outgoing nature, we had lots of visitors. For example, there 
was a couple who came to our apartment for breakfast most week days. We shared 
the cost of the food, and the women took turns doing the cooking. On the days 
that the other woman was the cook, my wife slept late, then when breakfast was 
nearly ready she got up and had a shower, not bothering even to get dressed 
when she joined us for the meal. She was naked in front of our visitors, but 
they had seen her without her clothes plenty of times during the summer, 
therefore it didn't arouse my jealousy.

It wasn't as if my wife was the only woman in our circle who exposed her body. 
Some of the women who lived in our apartment building seemed not to feel any 
requirement to put on clothing except when they were going outside the 
building. It became commonplace to have naked women in the laundry room 
located at the end of the hallway on each floor. Some women even - especially 
the youngest residents - went down to the lobby, topless, or naked, when they 
were checking for mail.

Of course, people who didn't live at our apartment were sometimes present, the 
mailman, or perhaps someone who was just visiting. The women from our 
apartment building got a few dirty looks from these people, and once in a 
while a crude comment, but it happened only rarely. Apparently the people who 
didn't actually live at our apartment building felt slightly ill at ease, 
being in an unfamiliar environment. The visitors behaved as if they were 
invading other peoples' privacy, and they usually tried to make a show of not 
noticing that other people were naked.

It was amusing when the painters were touching up our apartment. My wife 
wandered around, indifferent to the men being there. Sometimes she was 
dressed, sometimes topless, often naked. The workmen were wide-eyed, sweating, 
obviously tongue tied. Whatever my wife was wearing, or not wearing, they made 
a great show that they were paying attention only to their work and not to 
her. She would stand behind the men, naked, legs apart, sipping from a cup of 
coffee, talking about how much time the men expected it might take them to 
finish their work. They responded to her questions, never turning around to 
look at her. Most of what they said was nearly impossible to understand. At 
one point she asked, "Is English your second language?" They answered that 
they were from London, both of them.