Flashing Stories

Flashing Stories

Flashing Stories from Naked Ride

She looked down at herself. Her nipples had become hard from the idea of walking back butt naked through the darkness to the tent. Probably she would meet someone else. She would be naked and one would be able to see her breasts and butt and everything.

A very exciting thought, she thought for a moment. Don’t think about it, she told herself and went out the door.

On the lighted steps she first felt terribly exposed and she hopped down the stairs as fast as possible to get into the protective shadows.

Then she found rest again – under the circumstances. She walked along the main path, from where smaller paths branched left and right to the campgrounds. She stayed a bit on the edge and walked unobtrusively and quickly, but there seemed to be no one around, so she slowed her pace and for the first time began to like the situation.

She felt her body in a way she had never known before. She felt her bare butt bounce as she walked, her nudity letting her body become a whole, from her face down her breasts, past her hips and bottom, down to her calves and soles, she was herself, open, honest, natural and free. She felt a sense of beauty and calm, she could have stopped in the middle of the path to listen to the sound of the sea, without fear, without shame, it was all right as she stood there.

Lying topless on the beach was something frivolous, something heretical in itself, it provoked because it exposed her intimate body parts. But being as naked as she was, was different. It was as natural as a naked baby playing in the sand on the beach. It had nothing offensive, but was the best and most unobtrusive way she could present herself.

She turned on her way and walked the few steps over the short grass to her tent. When she arrived, she regretted that her adventure was already over. She pulled up the zipper and crawled into the tent.

Janine was already asleep and so she threw her pajamas on in the dark and slipped quietly into her sleeping bag.

The next morning the towel was back. It hung carelessly over the clothesline, as if it had never gone anywhere else. The following evening, when it was already dark and the night’s sleep surrounded the whole place, she decided to experiment.

(from On the Road)

…read Flashing Stories now in Volume 5 Naked Ride