Dancing Nude in a Periwinkle Garden: (Life through the Eyes of a Teenage Nudist)

By Lisa "Angel" Lite

Being nudists since they were toddlers, Angel and her sisters experience two vastly different lifestyles--summers with their aunt in a nudist resort and winters with their mother in a highly dysfunctional family.

In their quest to find out if there really is such a thing as "normal," we engage a host of colorful characters where we experience everything from pheromone parties and skinny-dipping to finally getting a peek into the mysterious actions of the Secret Nudist Club.

Also, although Angel's sisters fear their mother is possessed by an evil spirit, Angel is convinced that she, as well as her mother, are actually the victims of a malfunctioning gene passed down to them from her grandfather--a man seriously considered insane.

In this highly humorous adventure that is amazingly revealing and constantly surprising, Angel, her sisters, and even the reader may begin to wonder if there really is such a thing as normal. Maybe we're all just a little insane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684985869

Book preview

Dancing Nude

IN A PERIWINKLE GARDEN

(LIFE THROUGH THE EYES OF A TEENAGE NUDIST)

LISA ANGEL LITE

A Grant Pealer Golden Award Book

Copyright © 2022 Lisa Angel Lite

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-68498-585-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68498-586-9 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

The Pondering Nude

Chapter 1: Three Featherless Chicks

Snapshot: Our Mother, Agnes (Life on the Funny Farm)

Snapshot: Uncle Jack and Amy (Silent Water Runs Deep)

Chapter 2: Beauty Is in the Eye of the Beer Holder

Snapshot: Fred and Chester (When Having a Gay Time Changes Meaning)

Snapshot: Rose (Sometimes a Stud, Sometimes a Dud)

Chapter 3: Indecent Exposure of Personality

Snapshot: The Bad Grandfather (A Hemorrhoid Isn’t the Only Pain in the Ass)

Snapshot: Gramps—the Good Grandfather (Gramps’s Winkie Theory)

Chapter 4: King of the Turtles

Snapshot: Agnes’s Sickness (Life: Is It a Great Drama—or Just a Silly Play?)

Chapter 5: Welcome to the Garden of the Mad

Snapshot: A Birthday Picture (A Tightrope Called Sanity)

Snapshot: Mama Rosa (Mama Rosa’s Voodoo)

Chapter 6: You Have the Right to Remain Silent—Please!

Snapshot: A Saturday Morning Candid Shot (A Dollar Shaved Is a Dollar Yearned)

Snapshot: Loony Lucy (Family Day at the Seashore)

Chapter 7: Same Crap, Different Corner

Snapshot: Everything’s Not Just Black-and-White

Snapshot: Babaloo Gets Worked Overtime

Chapter 8: Hattie’s Great Mystery

Chapter 9: A Trip to Planet West Four

Snapshot: Tilly the Dilly

Chapter 10: The Ants in Aunt’s Pants

Chapter 11: A Day without Sunshine Is Just Another Night

Snapshot: Grandma June, Uncle Judy (and the White Trash Trailer Park Bar and Grill)

Chapter 12: Innocence Is the Best Kind of Sexy

Snapshot: Creeping Out the Queers

Chapter 13: A New Hand Is Dealt

Chapter 14: From Puberty to Perfume

Snapshot: There’s No Need to Cry Over Spilled Milk—unless the Broken Glass Hits You in the Head

Chapter 15: Exploring the Hot Coals of Hell

Chapter 16: Ghosts Ahoy

Snapshot: Savior or Sinner?

Chapter 17: Tool of the Devil

Snapshot: Other Characters in the Circus

Chapter 18: When the Devil Comes Knocking

Snapshot: The Nectar of the Sweet Blossom

Snapshot: Uncle Judy to the Rescue

Snapshot: Lucifer’s Daughter

Chapter 19: No Sense Being Pessimistic—It Probably Won’t Work Anyway

Snapshot: Hidden in Plain Sight

Chapter 20: Urine on the Windmill of Your Mind

Snapshot: More Mysteries

Chapter 21: Scary, Screamy, and Screwy

Snapshot: Spirits, Soup, and Special Seasoning

Chapter 22: The Exorcism of Agnes

Snapshot: Turtles and Bears

Chapter 23: A Rose by Any Other Name…

Snapshot: A Bag of Mixed Nuts

Snapshot: Rose’s Shocker Turns Dud

Snapshot: The Female What…?

Chapter 24: The Razor’s Edge

Snapshot: Therapy Begins

Snapshot: Legion of Torment

Snapshot: Is Anyone Sane?

Chapter 25: Sometimes You Forget to Remember to Forget

Snapshot: In the Shadows of the Mind

Chapter 26: The Warrior’s Fear

Snapshot: Other Events

Chapter 27: Zen Wrapped in Karma

A Final Snapshot: A Family Portrait

Other Grant Pealer’s Golden Selections

The Pondering Nude

For as long as I can remember, I have wondered about the meaning of normal. By what standard would you measure such a thing? Would a person who attempted to give a description of the word be normal himself? Would his analysis be the true standard upon which all things should be gauged…or would it be normal only for him?

I’ve come to the conclusion we mostly acquire our standards about right and wrong from our mothers. But for me, that has caused tremendous problems. Unfortunately, I have always felt our mother was quite mad.

I never really hated our mother, and I’m sure that goes for my sisters too. We just had a different kind of love for her. It might be best described as the type of affection one might have for an unstable pet. While you may want to share your heart, you always need to remember it could easily end up in some kind of painful resolution.

While growing up in two extremely different lifestyles, I along with my two sisters, Rose and Drew, began our search at an early age to decide what might be normal for us.

On one hand, we were forced to face the horrible reality of a terrible secret about our family; but on the other, we could escape into a wonderful spiritual world where we were permitted to run free…and naked.

In our search for what was average or normal, we began to question if perhaps there was a chance everyone in the world might really be normal (in their own special way). Or maybe—just perhaps—no one is truly what you could call normal!

I actually fear we might all be quite mad!

*****

The easiest way to reduce a male into a slobbering puddle of goo is to stimulate his testosterone-soaked imagination with images of uninhibited girls playing and sunbathing in a state of completely naked innocence.

—Angel Lite

Chapter 1

Three Featherless Chicks

My sweetest memories are of my sisters and me skinny-dipping at Bare Lake from the time we were toddlers on up into our teens. And by the way, strangely enough, that’s the proper way to spell the name of the lake.

Bare Lake is a pristine body of water located in the center of a magnificently beautiful and isolated forest owned by a nudist resort noted for attracting sun worshippers from around the world.

Its white sandy beach has a super sugary-soft texture and is matched only by the powdery sand found at Siesta Key, Florida, an incredible beach on the Gulf. But unlike Siesta Key, this special sand had to be purchased and transported to the forest lake in an endeavor to create that same romantic feeling lovers have shared for untold years at that beach south of Tampa.

When you feel the softness between your fingers or toes, it creates a sensuous flow of emotions; and when you lie in it—especially when you are completely naked—it’s mind-blowing!

The sand covers only the south end of the lake though. The other three-fourths is mostly swamp with cypress and Florida pine. It also has heavy brush and terrible thorny palmetto bushes an explorer would find extremely difficult to traverse. But I really don’t know why anyone would go to all that trouble just to sneak a look at some nudes! Anyone can simply drive down the inconspicuous road leading to the security gate and ask to be admitted. Then, as long as you appear sober and nonthreatening, the gate goes up—and you’re in!

Rose is my older sister by ten months and Drew my younger, also by ten months. I surmise we were purposely staggered this way because I remember hearing Pop once say that only barbarians had children every nine months.

Because of my sisters’ and my openness, our nude exploits and our belonging to a nudist resort became common knowledge in high school. Of course, that always kept us in a spotlight of attention with all the boys. But as beautiful as Rose was and although she had the ability to literally have any boy she might want, she made it clear she wasn’t interested. At the age of almost eighteen, it became quite apparent she was more attracted to the turn of a shapely leg—or a tiny, cute butt—than anything a boy might have to offer.

Drew and I, on the other hand, took advantage of all the special attention and languished in it. With Drew at sixteen and me, seventeen, we soon learned the most erotic tool in a young girl’s arsenal was the ability to stimulate the male imagination. Simply planting a few pictures in a guy’s mind of us swimming, basking in the sun, or just running around nude could reduce the average male’s mind to a puddle of babbling goo. However, we were good girls and never really tried to take advantage of their mushy testosterone-soaked brains. I guess that was probably due to our upbringing and more mature approach to life than the average teen might have.

Growing up, we actually had two sets of parents. Our A family was our birth parents, and our B parents, the ones we spent most of our teen and preteen summers with. They were nudists and the ones who introduced us to the joy of being able to run around completely naked. In our preteens, we usually spent only a few weeks each year at the nudist resort, but in our teens, it was increased to the entire summer vacation.

As it turned out, our birth mother was diagnosed as having a severe nerve disorder. Anyway, that was all we were told as children. Actually, there was a lot more to it than that. In later years, we learned the truth. One afternoon, Pop came home from work and found our mother on the couch crying and tearing our clothes to shreds. When he asked what was happening, she begged him to take the butcher knives to work with him the next day. Either that or hide them so she couldn’t find them. She was convinced she was going to kill someone if she could find a knife. And I’m sure I’ll kill at least one of the girls—if I don’t kill all three! she cried.

When he asked what we had done, she admitted we hadn’t done anything. For most of the day we hadn’t even been home. But she had this very strong urge to put us out of our misery! She said it was extremely difficult to ignore the voice that demanded our demise!

That was when we started spending more time with our B parents. From that time on, if we weren’t in school, we were with them.

Uncle Jack, Pop’s younger brother, and his wife, Amy, were dyed-in-the-wool hippies, but the real deal, not like those Nixon was always trying to defame. During their heyday, there were two kinds of hippies. There were the drug-addicted dropouts with no true agenda, and then there were those like our aunt and uncle. Those who had strong-minded convictions with hell-bent-for-leather dedication in exposing all the evils heaped on a suffering humanity. To their observation, all of society’s evil served no purpose except to make the rich richer. That evil came in all forms: from the corruption and deceit of politicians and big business to the lies told to us by our own government in an attempt to justify an unjust war.

Uncle Jack had always been a peace-loving man, and it was almost more than he could bear when he was drafted away and sent to a distant land to kill people he didn’t know and, as far as he could see, weren’t bothering us in any way. But he was told to go, and go he did. Then while overseas, something happened that maimed him for life—and maimed is the proper word. Part of his soul was blown away! He developed a horrible scar that would last the rest of his life, but a scar you couldn’t see; a terrible wound he refused to talk about.

However, he and his wife remained freedom thinkers and were also very big on health. That obviously included their love for living the life of naturalists.

They started spending every spring and summer at the nudist resort long before we were born, and when we started becoming familiar with it by spending our summer months with them, we easily adapted.

Most visitors to the resort are very surprised to find that real nudists are nothing like portrayed in those silly movies where people are carrying beach balls or guitars around or standing behind a bush to hide their nakedness. Naturalists come in every shape, form, age, and nationality. But most surprising, they have the healthiest attitudes and ideals of any people you could ever hope to meet. Unlike what many may think, people don’t become nudists because of lecherous thoughts and desires. For the true nudist, those who return year after year, it’s more like something spiritual. Actually, naturalism is a religion! It’s a religion dedicated to having a healthy body and mind.

When I get a tan—I get a tan! Even now, you will never see a tan line on me or either of my sisters. While some people might use a towel to keep from getting a sunburn, I can honestly say I have never seen true naturalists purposely try to cover up some part of their nudity due to embarrassment.

While an individual’s mind is certainly overwhelmed by seeing nudes walking around when first arriving, the initial shock wears off in a little while. Then, after another ten or fifteen minutes pass, your anxiety about your own nudity usually starts to wear off.

Unlike what some believe, most nudists are not exhibitionists. In fact, cameras are usually forbidden or highly controlled. Those desiring to take pictures are allowed to do so only if a member of the security staff accompanies them. There is a strict rule though that any pictures taken cannot show any individuals who haven’t given their express permission. If anyone desires to take pictures of friends, they must do so discreetly in an unpopulated area.

While it is true that anyone wishing to enter for a legitimate reason will be permitted to do so, the resort makes no attempt at drawing attention.

Driving down the highway, an individual would easily zoom past the resort’s private drive if they weren’t deliberately looking for the turnoff. Instead of a large sign, there is only a modest sign displaying the address.

However, those purposely seeking it turn off and travel down a quiet country road, twisting and turning until they come to the security station. The booth is manned by two security officers twenty-four hours a day.

Some of the guests are registered naturalists and visit frequently, some love the innocent Garden of Eden atmosphere and visit maybe once or twice a year, and some are first-timers entering mostly due to nervous curiosity. Surprisingly though, the majority live there twelve months a year, owning their own home.

Something unknown by a lot of people is that some of the larger resorts are actually small villages. Entering our particular colony, you will immediately see a spacious area to the left where RVs and trailers can be hooked up to electricity and water. A little farther down, and again on the left, is a large mobile home park where some of the permanent residents live. Being privately owned, many who don’t live there full-time often rent their homes out to visitors.

Traveling farther along, there are beautiful gardens and shady picnic grounds on the right. Another short distance, and you come to a beautiful hotel on the right with a general merchandise store directly across the street. New visitors are told to pull into the parking lot of the store and register inside.

After registering, the new arrival can either park in the hotel parking for the day or drive to their own privately assigned parking place if they’re staying longer.

To the left of the hotel is a side road where a fence encloses the guest recreation area. Outside the gate is a large sign reading: Absolutely no clothing allowed beyond this point!

Inside are two gigantic whirlpools and two swimming pools. One is a large regular pool and the second a majestic creation. It has a humongous kidney shape, shaded in exotic ferns, trees, and flowers designed to look like a tropical cove complete with a waterfall at one end. The latter is usually the favorite of all first-timers.

There are also two dry-heat spas, a large steam room, a complete gym area, a snack shack, an endless sea of lounge chairs and umbrellas and—of course—several bars serving fancy and regular drinks all day long.

Across from the front of the hotel and behind the store is beautiful Bare Lake. There is also a sign nailed to a tree. It reads: Bathing Suits not allowed! Those who wish to join us—must join us! Beside the lake is the Country Club, where most guests choose to dine in the evening. On the other side of that building is another fenced area for other recreational activity.

Then, finally, traveling farther down the road, we find the homes owned by individuals living there year-round. The homes stretch down for several blocks and then several blocks across.

Cotton Tails (a name given to first-time visitors) are usually noted for being hesitant in removing their clothes on their first time, but after standing next to their car a few minutes, watching others walk around enjoying themselves, soon discover it’s amazingly simple and very natural for them to strip too!

I must admit though…that spring of my seventeenth year, I did feel a little strange when we pulled into the store to register after being gone for a whole year. I felt over the winter I had magically transformed from being an average girl into an obvious woman!

While Uncle Jack and Amy were inside registering, I stood beside the car looking down at the lake. I quickly spotted several of my friends—both guys and gals.

Even though it had been only a year, I felt a little strange about running down to see them—perhaps causing my boobs to all of a sudden start flopping up and down! I felt my breasts had grown a great deal since the previous summer, and although I was proud of how I looked, like most young girls, I was more worried about how others viewed me than how I viewed myself. In my apprehension, I started imagining them flopping even if I walked. In horror, I wondered how that would look. Would they go up and down? Or would they swing side to side? And horror of horrors! What about my pubic hair? I hadn’t given any thought to that until right then! My god! I felt it was now truly a bush in every sense of the word!

The previous year, I felt we were just friends playing together. This year I was convinced there were just too many differences in me!

I now realize there probably wasn’t as great a change in me as I then imagined, but several months had passed since I had been naked with my friends, and all the phobias of a sixteen, just turned seventeen girl were starting to kick in—and at full power!

Adding further fuel to my uncomfortable and confusing thoughts, I saw the love of my life down there! Jim was three years older than me, and the previous summer, he gave me a diamond engagement ring (that I secretly hid from everyone, even my sisters). He said it was a symbol of the love he would always have for me until his death and even beyond.

I had a crush on him that would have killed a Buick! And now here I was worried about how I might look!

We checked into the hotel, but this year was different from ever before. Every year we got by with just a two-bedroom suite. This time though, we were handed our own keys. We girls had our own room for the first time.

While Rose and Drew were excited, to me it only reinforced my convictions about my womanly blossoming.

Once inside the room, I stripped down to my panties but then stood beside the window looking out. Rose had seen her special friend and was extremely eager to get down to the lake but patiently waited for Drew and me, thinking it would be nice if we all went together.

Drew was also eager to go. Come on, Angel! she insisted. Everybody’s probably waiting for us! It had taken them only a second to strip down to nothing but their flip-flops and a smile. Neither seemed to be aware of any special changes they might have experienced.

Finally I asked, Do you think we should shave?

The question caught Drew off guard. She slowly raised her arm, giving me a strange look while glancing at her armpit.

Not our armpits! I exclaimed. Again, do you think we should shave? Did either of you happen to notice if the other girls have shaved or not?

No, Drew answered.

No what? No, we shouldn’t shave, or no, you didn’t notice?

No, I didn’t notice, but why are you thinking about that?

I’m not sure, I said with grave concern, but I think a lot about me has changed in the past year.

Look, Rose growled, showing irritation at my stalling, I’m just a few months from being eighteen, and if I’m not worried about it, why should you be? Besides, why would anyone want to waste their time looking at younger girls when they can check out a girl that’s eighteen?

For some strange reason, her crazy theory did make me feel a little bit better. Finally, I slowly stepped out of my panties and slipped on my flip-flops too.

As we started out though, I caught a glance of my reflection in the full-length mirror beside the door.

Does my ass look big? I asked. I didn’t feel there was anything really wrong with it. In fact, I’d always prided myself on having what I considered a pretty, fairly small butt. I guess I was more or less digging for a little sisterly support.

Compared to what? Rose laughed. Beside a baby’s butt, I’m sure it must look like the Hoover Dam!

Mucho grande! Drew announced with great emphasis as she held her hands out and began pulling them apart.

Hey! I yelped. What the hell is that sh—?

Drew! Rose scolded. "How can you say that? It’s definitely not mucho grande!"

Of course not! I added.

I’m really surprised at you! Rose continued. "It’s muy grande! Never use mucho with grande!"

Very friggin’ funny! I snapped. I thought by some wild chance you might want to offer some reassurance!

Rose took a long look and added, Look at that buoyancy! It must be filled with jelly!

All right, I growled, you’re just trying to get me mad! You know I’ve got a beautiful ass!

Then what the hell are we wasting our time here for? she snapped back. Let’s get out there!

Once outside, my apprehension began to disappear. It was just like I had always preached to my non-nudist friends. Feeling the gentle wind against my naked body instantly made me feel like a child again.

By the time we reached the lake, I was so excited about seeing my friends that all my worries about my womanly development had disappeared.

Some of the girls were excited about seeing us and came running over. While they were squealing and sharing information about things done over the winter, I watched Rose walk over to Lilly.

Lilly got up and threw her arms around her. They held each other close—very close—in fact, illegally close! We knew the rules well enough to know two nude bodies should never be pressed against one another, especially in a public place. When hugging someone in a nudist resort, it should be more like giving your grandmother a hug. One thing definitely considered inappropriate was to hug tummy to tummy! I felt Rose was putting us on the fast track to getting expelled for the remainder of the summer!

I continued to gab with the girls in the hope they might not see what was going on.

I eventually breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Rose and Lilly walk away—even though both had their arms wrapped around each other’s waist.

Then, I instantly remembered Jim. Where was he? Why hadn’t he come to greet me?

Looking around, I finally saw him lying on his belly next to Sheila. She wasn’t really an enemy, but certainly no great friend.

Hi, Jim! I cried out, giving him a chance to make amends for ignoring me. I figured he was simply so involved in his conversation that he just hadn’t seen me.

Breaking away for a second, he said, Oh, hi, Angel. Then went back to Sheila, continuing to laugh about whatever they had been talking about.

My whole body must have turned fire-truck red! I thought to myself, Hi, Angel? Hi, Angel? What the hell is the matter with him?

After I spent a little time swimming and sunbathing with the gang—and with Jim not once attempting to leave Sheila’s side to see me—a great volcano of incomprehensible anger built up! It was so tremendous I had to leave! I knew if I stayed there any longer, watching them play footsy, I would most definitely erupt!

Walking back to our room, I came up with an idea—a deliciously devilish idea. Two could certainly play that game! And one thing was for certain. I had the right ammunition!

Through observation from past years, I learned what gets a guy’s attention and what doesn’t. I remembered the year before when a girl came out wearing a black see-through knit that just barely covered her crotch. All the guys went crazy watching to see if they might get a glimpse of something! Meanwhile, she pretended to not notice as she femininely sashayed around licking a popsicle. It’s not always what a guy can see that fascinates him as much as what’s hidden and he might see.

Even though this was a nudist resort, people visiting for any span of time would certainly bring clothes with them for driving into town or for any of the many reasons one might need to be dressed while there. Dinner, for example, was always an occasion to be dressed.

Digging into my suitcase, I found my red panties. I slipped them on and wrapped a small towel around my waist. It was decorated with white lilies. Rose bought it mostly as a joke for Lilly, but I loved it and knew it would help me draw attention. Next, I brought my long dark hair around front to cover my breasts. And last, I dabbed several sensory spots of my body with perfume.

The hotel had rooms inside, but fortunately for me, Uncle Jack had decided to book our rooms in the motel extension that ran behind the main building. Another piece of luck for me was our room being directly across the street from the main entrance where complete nudity was demanded. On the other side of the gate was a lounge area where a bevy of guys and girls were relaxing and sipping drinks. The fence was merely a small white picket fence that didn’t even rise any higher than someone’s waist, giving easy vision to anyone on either side.

Exiting from the room, I pushed my towel and panties down in front just low enough to expose my lower tummy.

Perhaps it was because of me being partly covered that some guys started looking. Regardless if that was true or not, I could easily see I had aroused some interest. I walked to the trunk of the car, which fortunately faced in their direction.

I reached up and stroked my long flowing hair, ran my hands down to my breasts, and then slowly slid them down my sides.

Then pretending I didn’t notice anyone watching, I turned my back and opened the trunk.

Carefully and with deliberate movement, I leaned forward. From behind I could feel the towel slowly rise—exposing my ass adorned in those flashy red panties.

After letting any interested party get an eyeful, I stood, reached under the towel, and slowly slid my panties down, letting them drop until they came to rest at my ankles. Next, I carefully faced my butt back toward the room and daintily stepped out of them! Bending over, I made sure my fanny was raised high, and I took a short pause. My thinking was it might suggest to the guys’ imaginations that I was enjoying the cool breeze against my bare ass! I imagined every male fantasizing about the view from behind!

After a while, I finally stood erect and walked back to my room using a natural hip sway, not trying to magnify it. Guys love to fantasize but seem to resent something they think might not be natural.

At the door, I entered and continued to pretend I didn’t see anyone watching. I released the towel, and as it hit the floor, the door closed.

As strange as it may seem, the human animal (both man and woman) is more aroused by the imagination than reality! I’ve heard it said if it wasn’t for the imagination, there might not be much sexual activity going on. In fact, there might not even be any lovers!

I stood away from the window making sure no one could see me and tried to get a glimpse of what reaction I might have triggered. There seemed to be a slight flurry of laughing and joviality, and I had to surmise it might be over me.

After a few minutes passed, I decided it was time to find out. I again wrapped the towel low on my waist, left the room, and started walking back to the lake. At the corner, I paused pretending to adjust my flip-flop, but was really trying to see if anyone was interested enough to follow. Surprisingly, I detected a few guys not far behind, but couldn’t be certain if they were following me or not.

I arrived back at the lake only to find the bastard still lying next to her. They were in the same position and spot where I had left them.

I figured I had done all I could. Using what I learned, I felt I had planted very potent hormone seeds in the minds of some new guys! If anything came of it or not was now in the hands of God!

Finally being able to put the bum out of my mind, I dropped the towel and lay facedown, putting my breasts and tummy into that wonderful soft sand! It was like lying in an ocean of baby powder! I couldn’t help myself as I stretched my arms out and began to move them up and down. It was a glorious feeling!

Making snow angels? a voice asked.

Looking up, I saw one of the guys who had followed, standing beside me.

Well…maybe it’s more like sand angels, I guess, I answered.

He moved the soft sand around with his foot, hesitating as if grasping for something else to say. Finally he blurted out, Is it all right if I sit down here?

I sat up, and the soft powder started falling away. As I brushed at my breasts and then down my tummy, I looked up and saw his eyes grow. Oh, my god! Without even trying, I had shot another load into his brain!

Yeah, of course, it’s all right, I answered. I wanted to buy this spot on the beach, but the manager said it wasn’t for sale. He said I would have to share it with any good-looking guy that wanted to sit here.

Any good-looking guy? he asked, showing a slight blush in his cheeks.

Well, maybe not just any guy, I responded. I would like him to be sweet with a great sense of humor. Do you know anyone who might qualify?

Before he could barely get the Sure… out of his mouth, two of his companions plopped down next to me.

Although we were in an ocean of nudes, any suggestion of my being modest about my nakedness had actually driven the guys wild. It was like the story I heard where a man went to a topless bar. There were about twenty dancers, but he became enchanted with the waitress who had her top on. Supposedly, he ended up paying her forty dollars to bare her tits—which he later regretted, wondering why he had done such a stupid thing.

Just like Rose told me, It’s not what a man sees that triggers his lust and imagination; it’s what he doesn’t see!

Making sure my hair remained draped over my boobs, I crossed my legs stretched out in front of me and bathed in their attention.

But what had started out as an act of vengeance had turned into something much more. I had been trying to just make Jim jealous, but I managed to meet some pretty good guys—and in no time at all, I started feeling much better about everything.

With their great sense of humor, I invited Drew and one of my girlfriends to join us. It seemed to be a good move for all of us. Plans were even made for the six of us to have dinner together that night.

After a little while, I suddenly discovered that Jim was standing next to me. He had been close enough to hear us talking, and I’m sure he noticed all the attention I had been getting. It looked like he was jealous. But a strange thing, I no longer cared! I really didn’t care what he did. At that moment, I was just as pleased to not be tied down for the summer!

You gonna have dinner with me tonight? he asked. Today’s Monday, and it’s the night we always agreed to have dinner together. Ya remember? It’s the night they have a live band and dancing at the clubhouse!

Not to be nasty, but in all sincerity, I suggested he accompany Sheila. I also added that I was sorry but there were already six of us and that was the limit for a table. He had