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The Nude Date

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A naked love story.
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This is a work of fiction. While some real places and institutions are mentioned or implied, they are used fictitiously here. As far as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those places or institutions has done anything akin to what is described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended.

I apologize but, like many of my stories, this one takes a little time to get going.

I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.

_____________________________________________________

It may help to start this story by introducing a character who isn't mentioned a great deal but who bears responsibility for much of what happened. I leave it to the reader to judge whether the consequences of his influence were positive or negative. The character is my father Henry "Hank" Stone.

Dad was a career military officer, having graduated from one of the academies. For reasons which may become obvious, I'm not identifying the service of which he was a member. By all accounts, he was a good officer. He had technical expertise, and he treated the men and women under his command well. Dad was loyal to his service and his country. However, he wasn't loyal to Mom, at least not in the sense of marital fidelity. Dad was addicted to women like a chain-smoker to nicotine. Unlike a smoker, Dad was too particular about brands.

The only thing I saw that Mom had in common with Dad's other women was that Mom was, and is, very good-looking. Mom was fairly quiet and never ditzy, even if she'd been drinking. I think it's also fair to call Mom intellectual. She ended up with a Ph.D. in economics.

The other person who appears throughout this story is my sister Kim. Kim is three years older than me. Kim apparently felt a lot of responsibility for me. Kim brought about unquestionably the best thing that has happened in my life. This story tells how that started.

For most of my childhood, we lived near Washington, D.C. Mom had a career position in the Commerce Department dealing with international trade. She was in her fifth administration, just a level below the people who got called to Congressional hearings. Dad spent some of those years at the Pentagon and the rest stationed near D.C.

It was the spring of Kim's freshman year in college and my sophomore year of high school when Dad announced that he'd been offered a promotion. The catch was that the position which went the promotion was in Southern California. Mom was not leaving her job in D.C., but she didn't want to cost Dad his promotion. They agreed she would stay in Washington and Dad would go to California. That was ok, except Dad insisted I go to California with him. Dad had been a wrestler at the academy. I had wrestled since fifth grade. I had a little talent. Dad said he wanted to see me wrestle my last two years of high school. That did not, in my mind, justify uprooting me from my friends, teammates, and all the places I knew. Besides, I'd only be with him for two years before I went to college wherever. But how do you tell your father you don't want to live with him?

Mom acquiesced in me moving to California with Dad, I guess because I didn't voice objection. Just before Dad and I started the cross-country drive from Virginia to California, Mom pulled me aside and said, "try to keep him out of trouble for two years at least."

I didn't like California. Removed from my friends, I put all my effort into school, wrestling, and the weight room. Apart from his work, Dad devoted his free time to his favorite hobby. He was not hesitant to bring women home for the night. I grew used to hearing moans and occasional screams coming from the master bedroom of our ranch home. I got used to meeting different women in bathrobes with disheveled hair as I got ready for school in the mornings. I wasn't there to rat Dad out, but what do you do when your mother calls from three time zones away and specifically asks how many women your dad is fucking? In one space of eight days, four different women spent the night at our house. That struck me as, to be charitable, extremely disrespectful of all four of them.

I did not win a California high school championship, but I came close. That fact and the fact that I had excellent grades earned me a partial wrestling scholarship at a school in suburban Chicago that was well-regarded academically and tried to do bigtime college sports. I'm probably odd, but I liked Chicago a lot more than California.

Between wrestling and school, I didn't have a lot of free time in college. The university had a lot of very attractive girls who were also very bright. I dated a few. However, I found myself afraid of getting too close to a woman. What, I thought, if I'm like Dad and treat the women I meet as just a place to put my dick? I didn't trust myself.

I hadn't talked with Kim much while I was in California. We began talking more, first by phone and later face-to-face online, after I started college. Kim became very easy to talk to. Maybe she always was, and I hadn't noticed. She would ask about my "love life." At first, I put her off with vague generalities. Finally, around the end of my sophomore year, her first year of grad school, I told her why I was afraid of getting too close to any woman. Kim assured me that I wasn't like our father. But, I thought, what else could she say, and how would she know? I continued to be afraid of close female relationships.

I did ok as a wrestler, finishing fifth in my weight class at the conference tournament as a senior. I just missed qualifying for nationals. I did better academically, majoring in political science with an adjunct major in international studies. I'd studied French in high school, so I stayed with for my language requirement; but I also started on learning Russian. Wrestling had taken enough time that I was a few credits short for my degree after four years. I'd earn my degree after one more quarter.

I had stayed at school every summer in college. I worked at a summer camp for high school wrestlers for the parks department of the suburban city where the university's undergraduate campus was located. Mom and Dad had divorced during my sophomore year. I was surprised it took them that long.

I was done with wrestling when I used up my eligibility. Consequently, I didn't have much to do, besides paint park benches, that last summer of college. Mom was still in D.C. at Commerce. Kim got her master's and moved to D.C. She worked for something called the "North American Council." While the Council tried to look like a thinktank, it was funded by some large Canadian businesses and banks to monitor and influence U.S. trade policy with Canada. During one of my online sessions with Kim that June, she asked me "Can you get leave from that highly skilled job you have for the Thursday and Friday the week after July 4?"

"I suppose I can," I replied. "Why?"

"Mom and her friend Clayton, and Brad and I are going to a place in the woods in Maryland, about two hours' drive from D.C.," Kim replied. "We've been there before. It's really nice. Anyway, I've become friends with this woman who's interning with us this summer. I asked her to go with us and I thought, if you come, that will make three couples."

"Trying to play matchmaker?" I asked a little warily.

Kim laughed. "Maybe," she said, "you could do a lot worse than Lise. She's bright, very pleasant, and, at least from a woman's perspective, very good-looking. It's a long weekend Peter, not a lifetime commitment. You'll fly back to Chicago that Sunday night and Lise will go back to school in Montreal in August."

"You know I don't have a whole lot of money," I said.

"No problem," Kim replied. "Mom's already paying for the lodge for everyone. Adding you doesn't increase that cost. I'll loan you the airfare. Pay me back whenever you get a real job."

I'm not sure why, but Kim's invitation sounded good. I arranged for the days off and told Kim I'd come. I arrived at National Airport at 3:22 p.m. that Thursday. I'd stay in Mom's guest room Thursday night and the six of us would leave early Friday morning for the Catoctin Sun Lodge.

Freed of my father, Mom formed a relationship with a print journalist named Clayton Rawlings. He covered environmental and climate issues, not Mom's area of responsibility, so they didn't see any conflict. While he be self-righteous and grandiose if he got started on the role of journalists in society, I would learn that Clayton was a pretty good guy. Kim's boyfriend, Brad Webster, was in his last year of law school. He and Kim had dated since they were both in undergrad in North Carolina, so I'd met Brad before. He seemed to be a good guy too.

We had dinner that Thursday night at a Thai restaurant near Mom's place in Northern Virginia. That was when I met Lise Benoit. Kim had said Lise was "very goodlooking." That was a massive understatement. She was about 5'6", probably about 125 pounds, with reddish brown hair, and a gorgeous face. The light dress she wore stopped at mid-thigh, showing very nice legs. She was slender with breasts that looked proportional to the rest of her body. Lise managed to be sexy and wholesome at the same time. The sexy was enhanced by her voice, which was pitched low for a woman, with a slight accent I couldn't place.

Kim had introduced us, saying that Lise would be going into her final year at the Université de Montreal. I knew that was the primarily French-speaking university in the city, so I asked her what she was studying in what I thought was excellent French.

Lise smiled. "That would probably go over very well at École Nationale in Paris," she said kindly, "but in Montreal or Quebec City you just marked yourself as being from the U.S. Somewhere like Rimouski, they'd have no idea what you said." From that point on, I confined my conversations with Lise to English, at which she was very fluent.

We were eating when Mom dropped what was, to me, a bombshell. Talking about getting ready to go to the Lodge, she said, "well, of course, we only need one set of clothes to wear going up and back, but we'll need lots of sunscreen and flip-flops."

"Um, Mother," I asked tentatively, "why do we only need clothes to wear driving up to the Lodge and back?"

"Kim didn't tell you?" Mom replied with surprise. "Catoctin Sun Lodge is clothing optional. You can wear clothes while you're there, but you'll stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone goes nude."

I looked around the table. Apparently, I was the only person to whom this was news. I looked at Kim, who just grinned and gave a small shrug of her shoulders."

Lise broke the silence which had settled on the table. "I've never gone to a nude resort before either," she said pleasantly. "It's a little scary to think about taking all my clothes off and walking around among other people. But Kim makes the Lodge sound so nice, I thought I need to try this once. It's scary but it's also a little exciting. I'm glad I have nice people to try it with."

Lise was looking at me as she said that. A very beautiful young woman talking so matter-of-factly about spending a weekend naked, spending a weekend naked with me, among others, was a completely new experience. It was also alluring and exciting.

Kim finally said, "Peter, I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't come. I thought that if I told you while you were in Chicago, you'd just stay in Chicago. Now that you're here, what else are you going to do besides go with us?"

"You can take some shorts and wear those if you'll be more comfortable," my mother said soothingly.

"Please don't," Lise said. "I'm not sure I'll have the courage to strip down if someone else is staying dressed."

I thought for a moment there was a message in the look she was giving me. That had to be my wishful thinking. We'd just met.

"I can assure you the four of us will be nude the whole time," Kim told Lise.

That brought home another shocking reality. I would be seeing my mother and my sister naked! If I stripped, they'd see me naked!

Kim had an uncanny ability to read my thoughts sometimes. "Yes Peter," she said grinning, "tomorrow you will see me in all my naked glory: tits, ass, and cunt. And I want to see the man you've grown to be."

"Kim," Mom said, but I had the sense that Mom found my predicament amusing.

"I can promise you Peter," Brad said, "your sister is beautiful in the nude." Kim smiled at Brad's compliment.

"Your mother isn't bad either," Clayton said. He added with a grin, "for a woman her age." Mom playfully punched Clayton in the shoulder.

I felt like I was having a really weird dream. My mother and sister and their boyfriends were talking about going naked together like it was no big deal. Even harder to fathom, a beautiful young woman I had just met seemed excited about going naked around other people for the first time and asked me to go naked too. I had no clue what to say or do.

Years of getting to the weight room before anyone else had turned me into a habitually early riser. I woke up in my mother's guest room around 5:30 the next morning. I was momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then I remembered the conversation of the night before and was even more disoriented. Surely my mother and Kim were not going to run around naked all weekend with their boyfriends. Even more surely, they were not planning to run around naked with me. Absolutely surely, the gorgeous Lise Benoit would not be naked. Last night had to be a joke on me.

I was still lying in bed trying to figure out what was really going on when I heard Mom and Clayton in the hallway. "A dress?" Clayton asked.

"Easier to take off," Mom replied.

"Nothing underneath, I hope," Clayton said.

"Of course not," Mom replied. "And you'd better be commando under those shorts." I heard a belt unbuckle and a zipper. "Good," Mom said. Then, I heard the zipper and belt again.

I got up and opened the door to the hallway. I always slept in a pair of gym shorts, so I was decently dressed.

Mom saw me. "Peter," she said, "I'm sorry. I thought Kim told you about Catoctin Sun Lodge when she invited you. If you really don't want to go, you can stay here for the weekend. I hope you'll go, though, and I hope you'll go nude. I was apprehensive the first time I went to a nude resort after your father and I divorced, but it was a wonderful experience. I'm sure you'll enjoy it if you give it a chance."

"Peter," Clayton said, "think how disappointed Miss Benoit will be if you don't go. It was pretty clear to me last night that she's looking to you for moral support, if not more."

I have to confess that it was the thought of Lise Benoit naked that made my decision. "I'll go," I said. I withheld any explicit commitment to be naked. "Let me get a shower and pack some things."

Kim, Brad, and Lise arrived in Kim's sensible four-door Subaru sedan at 7:00 a.m. "Peter, you'll ride with us," Kim instructed. I understood why when I saw Clayton and Mom putting things into Clayton's old TR6.

Before Mom got into Clayton's car, they took the top down. Mom looked at Kim and said, "we're stopping at that liquor store in Frederick, right?"

"Unless we want a dry weekend," Kim replied.

I ended up sitting in the back seat with Lise. We talked about her studies, finance with a focus on international finance, and her internship at the Council. Lise asked me about my college career and acted suitably impressed when I mentioned that I'd been a college athlete. We talked about many things. Lise was very easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in what I said. I found myself becoming comfortable with her much faster than I usually did with people I'd just met. The one thing we didn't talk about was taking our clothes off, although the time for doing that was getting closer.

We stopped at a store and bought a range of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks and some snacks. We drove another thirty or so minutes, mainly on backroads, until we came to a driveway leading up a hill. The driveway was barred by a gate. A very small sign said, "Catoctin Sun Lodge."

About three-quarters of a mile from the road, the resort had a parking area in front of the office, restaurant and bar, and a two-story building with guest rooms. Every building was clad with dark wood shingles. Behind those main buildings were a large pool, hot tub, and sand volleyball courts. After we checked in, we walked past all that, carrying our things, snacks, and drinks. It was just after 9:00 a.m., so no one was out yet.

We followed a stone-paved path into the woods. Every so often, another path would branch off with a small sign showing a number. We walked the end of the main path, where the small sign said "12." A smaller path about ten yards long led to three small cabins built on columns about four feet off the ground. The cabins were arranged in a semi-circle around a gas grill, fire pit, and some patio chairs at ground level. A short set of steps led up to a wooden walkway which gave access to, and served as a common porch for, the three cabins.

Mom handed out keycards. "I don't think it matters which one I give you," she said. "I'm pretty sure any card opens the doors to all three cabins. Let's put our things away, take our clothes off and sunscreen on, and head back to the pool. Say fifteen minutes?"

Mom and Clayton went up the steps and into the cabin on our left as we faced them. Kim and Brad took the cabin to the right. That left Lise and I standing there with the center cabin unoccupied. I hadn't given any thought to accommodations for the weekend but certainly hadn't expected to be sharing a room with Lise.

"I guess you're stuck with me," Lise said.

"I'd hardly call it 'stuck,'" I replied. "Are you ok with this?"

Lise smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Are you?"

Lise looked so beautiful, and genuinely happy. "I'm very ok with it," I said.

"Great!" Lise replied. "Let's see our room and get our clothes off."

The room was a single room. There were a couple of chairs and, most significantly, only one bed. No television. In an alcove to the left as you walked in was a shower in a clear enclosure, a sink and mirror, and a small stall with a commode inside. The entire wall opposite the door was glass, with a sliding glass door. Beyond that were the woods.

We set our things down. "Well," Lise said, "time to get naked." We stood facing each other. Lise slipped off her shoes, pulled her top over her head, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my shirt over my head. Lise undid the top of her jeans, lowered the zipper, slid the jeans down her legs, and stepped out of them. She put a hand into the waistband of her panties at each hip and pushed her panties down. Stepping out of her panties, she turned sideways to me and bent down to pick up her clothes. Turning her back to me, she set her clothes on one of the chairs.

Lise had shown me her front, profile, and back in the nude. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I still had clothes on. It seemed disrespectful to her. As Lise turned back around to face me, I unbuckled my belt, undid my jeans, lowered the zipper, and pushed my jeans and boxers off together. I bent down, picked up my clothes, and tossed them on the bed.

When I straightened back up, Lise and I were facing each other, naked, about two feet apart. I've said repeatedly how beautiful Lise Benoit was clothed. Naked, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen anywhere. (She still is, too). I said, "damn, you are exquisitely beautiful."

Lise smiled. "Thank you," she said. "I'm glad you like me this way because I expect you'll be seeing a lot of it this weekend." She made a point of running her eyes up and down my body. "You look pretty great too," she said. "I liked you with clothes on, but you look even better naked."



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