tagRomanceThe Nude Journal

The Nude Journal

byJayDavid©

This is my entry into the Nude Day contest, so I would appreciate your comments and votes. It is a romance and coming of age story, and does not have any graphic sex scenes, so be forewarned. Enjoy!!

*

Prologue. New York, early this morning.

In the early morning light, Danielle's sleeping body was beautiful. Since the first time I saw her naked, 8 months ago, I never tired of just looking at her body. I'm sure that an objective viewer might argue that her breasts were a bit small, or her hips a bit wide, but I was not objective. To me, she was the one, and I reveled in her every curve. My ravenous eyes scanned her sleeping form, from her small feet with their high arches, to her short, muscular, legs, past her womanly hips and trimmed pubic hair and round, firm, pink-nippled breasts, across her shoulders, up her long, elegant neck to her round face and curly brown hair. I watched her chest slowly rise and fall, as she slept peacefully.

Last night was special. Although we hadn't exchanged any sort of tangible tokens, it was clear that Danielle and I were going to get married. Our conversations over the past months had effortlessly begun to move in that direction, and last night, we agreed that we needed to canvass our family and close friends to try to pick a date. One of the things that I truly loved about Danielle was that we did this as a team—she did not need an elaborate, surprise proposal, with flowers and a ring and the other crap. We both knew that it was time, and that we were meant for each other, so we started to make plans.

Although our sex had always been great, last night's had been even better, as if we had moved even closer to each other, because we had made a commitment, and it was not a commitment that either of us took lightly. And as usual, we both fell into a deep sleep afterwards.

Yet here I was, awake, an hour before the alarm was going to go off, looking at the nude body of my fiancée, the woman that I fully intended and totally desired to spend the rest of my life with, raise children with and be happy with, worried about one stupid little thing. Because after we made love for the last, intense time last night, before Danielle dropped off to sleep, she turned to me and whispered, "Mark, I love you. I love that we are so in tune, that we don't have any secrets from each other." Then she rolled over, displaying the back and shoulders, and butt, that I adored, and fell asleep.

It was, basically, true, that I had no secrets from Danielle. We had talked about our prior lovers, our petty misbehaviors and indiscretions, and our dreams, hopes and desires. But there was one thing, one kind of small thing, really, more embarrassing than anything, that I hadn't told Danielle. And while I didn't expect that it would actually change the way that she felt about me, I was worried, a little, because it was silly, and childish, but I could see it could be something that would diminish me in her eyes. I knew what a strong feminist she was, and although she had few personal inhibitions when we were together, I knew her views on the objectification of women.

So, I lay there, thinking about it, and how to tell her about it, and when. And I hoped that she would just laugh when I told her.

Westchester County, New York, November 18, 1996

Suddenly, I had started noticing that some of the girls in my class had tits. And I understood why my best friend Sammy spent less time at school with me, and more time trying to get the attention of Caroline, who had, seemingly overnight, sprouted the biggest set. And for the first time, I found myself in bed, at night, thinking of Caroline, or, more often, Maddie, whose smile and blue eyes I found irresistible, even though her chest was still relatively flat by Caroline standards. And when I did, my 12 year old cock got hard, as it had started to do with embarrassing frequency during school.

That afternoon, Sammy was over at my house, and my mom was doing some shopping, which wasn't unusual. Sammy and I decided to mess around on our new computer, and we were playing some games, when Sammy turned to me and said, "Can you go on the Internet?"

"Sure," I responded. My parents had set up an AOL account for me, and I got to go on when I wanted, because we had just switched to an unlimited account. I had mostly gone on to kids' chat rooms, and looked things up for homework.

"Wanna see naked girls?" Sammy asked.

For a 12 year old boy, it is hard to imagine a more obvious answer. "Sure," I responded, "how?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "My brother found this website filled with pictures of naked women." He unfolded it, and there was a series of letters, numbers and slashes in smudged pencil. "Here, type this in."

I started to log into my AOL account, waited for the familiar modem sounds, and ultimately, the booming "Welcome," voice. I went to the internet browser and typed in the information from the paper, which Sammy folded back up and put into his pocket as we waited for the site to load. Initially, it wasn't all that exciting. A picture of a very slutty looking woman, in a bikini, surrounded by a bunch of very fake sounding names.

"Pick one and click on it," Sammy said breathlessly.

I scanned the names, and laughed at how silly some of them were. They all seemed pretty much the same, so I randomly clicked on "Abby Melons." After a while, I saw something that I had never seen before. A series of small pictures of a naked woman, with red hair and huge breasts, posing. My cock immediately got hard, and I couldn't take my eyes off the screen.

"If you click on one of the pictures, it gets bigger," Sammy said.

So, I did. And he was right. Eventually, a large picture of a woman, presumably Abby Melons, filled the screen. I could see her big red nipples and the hair between her legs. It was, without a doubt, the most amazing thing I had ever seen, and I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I could hear Sammy breathing hard next to me, as we stared.

Then, I heard the door open downstairs, which broke the mood.

"Shit, my mom's home," I whispered. I quickly shut down the browser, and logged off AOL.

My mother must have heard the booming "Good Bye," because she yelled up, "Mark, can you help me with the groceries?"

Sammy and I went downstairs, and helped, as we usually did, and told my mother that, yes, we were on the computer, playing games. Sammy and I looked at each other, understanding that this was our secret.

Later that night, after I finished my homework, I went back to the computer, which I now regarded in a different way, as a window through which I had access to paradise, but realized that there was no way that I could risk going back to that website with my parents home. Instead, for reasons that seemed to make sense at the time, I opened up a Word document, and typed the following: 11/18/97 Abby Melons. Pictures. Blond hair. Big Tits. I saved the document as "xxxx.doc" and saved it in a new folder called "Things."

That was the first entry in my journal.

Westchester County, New York, December 31, 2000

It was 11:05, and I was in the basement of Jesse Pickett's house, with what seemed like hundreds of my fellow 16 year olds, stuffed full of chips, soda and 6 foot hero, waiting for the ball to drop on the TV, and for another year to begin. I looked across the room, and saw Sammy, with his arm around his current girlfriend, Addison. Sammy was smiling, and why wouldn't he be, with her in his arms. And considering what Sammy told me, she looked even better without her clothing on.

I, on the other hand, had made it through another year without coming close to seeing a live naked girl. I had made out with Mariana Greer a few times, and she let me touch her small tits over her shirt, and during a game of Truth or Dare, Wendy Sharp let me feel her pretty big tits, under the shirt, but only over her smooth bra, through which I felt her hard nipples.

My journal, however, was chock full of entries, as I became more and more adept at finding pictures of naked women on the Internet. I had even seen a few short, grainy porn videos, which often stalled to buffer. I consistently logged my viewing since that fateful day with Sammy, and I now had seen nude pictures of pretty much every famous actress and model, and more porn stars than I could count. But while fantasy was easy, reality still seemed out of my grasp.

I decided that I needed another Pepsi and some Doritos, so I ventured across the room to the refreshment table. Most of the guys were gathered either around the TV and most of the girls were sitting around, talking. The couples sat, entwined, wherever they could, looking smug and self-satisfied.

Grabbing a soda and a handful of the orange chips, I turned to return to my spot, when I noticed Maddie—now called Madeline—Rasmussen, sitting alone on a couch, turning an empty cup over and over in her hands. My crush on Madeline had continued unabated since middle school, and the smile and blue eyes that had first captivated me had been joined by a lean, runner's body with prominent, but proportionate breasts. We occasionally spoke in class, and it was friendly, but she had a different group of friends, and, I was pretty sure, a boyfriend who was a friend of her older brother, a senior.

She looked up, and caught me staring at her, but rather than looking angry, she smiled and it looked like she gestured to the couch next to her. Not believing my luck, I sat down next to her, and we made some uncomfortable small talk about the party, school, New Years, etc. Suddenly, we heard people counting, 9....8....7....6....5....4....3....2....1..... and everyone started yelling "Happy New Year," and making noise.

Madeline leaned over and kissed me.

Softly at first, then more passionately, her tongue searching for mine. I felt a jolt of passion, of lust, that I had not felt with Mariana, and when she finally pulled back, she was panting a little. She took my hand and wordlessly led me into a small closet, filled with coats. She did not completely close the door, so there was a line of light that bisected her lithe but certainly feminine frame, and she pulled me to her again for another round of intense kissing. I held her and stroked her back as we made out, uncomfortably feeling my cock strain against my jeans.

I can't blame booze, but I was clearly under the influence of something that gave me the courage to reach my hand under the back of Madeline's shirt, and I could feel her bra strap. She pressed her chest against mine as we kissed, and I could feel her nipples poking me. I needed to touch them, and I slipped my hand around to her front, wedging it between her breast and my chest and cupped her firm mound.

She moaned softly as I pressed her hard nipple, and it was the first time that I realized that girls actually enjoyed sex, and that I could do things that made them feel good. I began to rub and tweak Madeline's breasts as she kissed me and writhed with pleasure.

Then, she pulled away, although not very far, since the closet was only so big.

"I'm sorry, Maddie—um, I mean, Madeline," I said, because I assumed that she had come to her senses, and realized that she had no business kissing me and letting me paw her tits.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she whispered, and then pulled her shirt over her head. The small amount of light that was leaking into the closet gave me my first view of an actual girl's actual bra, a milestone that was quickly forgotten when she reached behind her back, unclasped the bra and pulled it off. Yes, it was dark, but there was enough light for me to see her very pretty breasts, pale with darker nipples, that were, as I already knew, large and hard. I stared at them, drinking in their beauty, when Madeline reached for my head and directed my mouth toward one of her nipples. I had a pretty good idea what I was supposed to do, and Madeline's moans and sighs taught me what she wanted.

After attending to her breasts for a while, I tried to slip a hand down the front of her jeans, but she pulled it out. There was a limit in her mind, and I was not going to cross it. Instead, she pulled me toward her, nestling my face in her cleavage as she kissed the top of my head before she dressed, smoothed out her hair and led me from the closet, my tension unrelieved. We got sodas and she told me how her boyfriend had dumped her for another senior, and, it turned out, she had always kind of liked me.

That night, after taking care of myself in the bathroom at home, Madeline was entered into my journal for the first of what happily turned out to be many times.

Westchester County, New York July 4, 2001

Madeline and I became a couple on New Year's and continued to date and fool around on a pretty regular basis. As brazen as she had been that first time, showing me her tits in the closet, she had not been willing to show me any more of her sexy body, despite my best efforts. She did let me reach into her pants and finger her, and I'm pretty sure that I sometimes made her cum, and she would occasionally give me a hand job, and I know that she always made me cum, which she would, cutely, clean up with tissues, crinkling her nose. It was actually a pretty good teenage relationship, although of course, I would have liked to have had sex with her, but I was happy.

Unfortunately, Madeline worked as a counselor at a summer sleep away camp, but by the time we realized how much fun we could if I got a job there, too, it was too late, and they had filled all of their positions. Instead, I got a job as a lifeguard at the town pool, where I had worked maintenance the past few summers. We promised to be faithful to each other, and I hoped that Madeline was keeping her end of the bargain, because I was keeping mine.

I consider myself an fair looking guy—although I always thought that Madeline should have been out of my league—but there is something about being a lifeguard that had women from 14 to 60 flirting with me. But I was loyal, and had given my word, and I never once cheated on Madeline.

Of course, this was frustrating, and my journal, which had gone from recording only pictures of naked women to a listing of the times I saw Madeline's tits (with a few pictures and videos from the Internet thrown in), to a veritable torrent of porn. But I figured that if it kept me faithful and sane, it was harmless.

The pool closed early on July 4, and my parents threw a barbecue for their friends and our neighbors. I helped my dad cook, and it was a fun time, although I wished that Madeline was there, especially because Sam came with his then-girlfriend Katelyn, a stunning brunette from our rival high school. Sam had let slip that they were "doing it" and I was jealous of that, and that she was there when my girlfriend was in the woods someplace upstate.

One thing about my parents' parties is that the booze was flowing, and the adults were pretty drunk. I was even able to sneak a beer behind the garage, and while I was drinking it, I was startled to hear a woman's voice call my name. I turned, and it was our next door neighbor Maya, a 40-ish divorced woman who had recently bought the house from the Tates, who had retired and moved to Florida. Although Maya had two children, who I sometimes baby sat for when she was desperate, you couldn't tell from looking at her. Her hair was almost unnaturally black, and her coffee colored skin was flawless. And she had a classic hourglass figure—big tits, wide hips and a skinny waist. It was not surprising that I often saw men, in expensive cars, pull up in front of her house to take her out. That's why I babysat for her kids when the dates came on short notice.

As Maya approached me, I could smell the wine on her breath, and I noticed that she was walking a little unsteadily.

"I thought I'd find you back here, you naughty boy," she said flirtatiously. I had never thought that I would have had any chance with her, and, anyway, I was spoken for.

"Um, hi Mrs. Valdes," I said. "I guess I'm busted," I continued, indicating the beer.

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said smiling, "I was a teenager once, you know." I nodded. "And I told you to call me Maya," she continued.

"Thanks, um, Maya," I said, not really sure why, but she came closer.

"Where's that pretty girlfriend of yours, Mark?" she asked.

"Um, she's away at camp this summer," I said, trying desperately to look in her dark eyes and not at her big tits.

She moved closer. "It must be tough for you being away from her," she said, then grabbed my hard cock in her hand.

I jumped back, "Um, Mrs. Um, Maya, Um, thanks, but, um, Madeline and I are, you know, kinda um." I was at a loss.

She looked at me with a look that I expect was as successful in turning on adult men as it was to me, and smiled. "Well, if you ever want to see what you are missing, Mark, just give me a call. The kids go to sleep at 8, you know." She smiled again and turned away. I watched her round, sexy ass unsteadily walk away, and felt my cock throbbing with desire.

That night, as I was getting ready for bed, I looked out my window at Maya's house. It was a bright night, with an almost full moon. I stood looking at Maya's bedroom window, thinking about whether I should take her up on her offer. Or whether she was just drunk, and whether I wanted to be unfaithful to Madeline.

There was a rustling in the curtains and then they opened. It looked very much like Maya was in the window, and she was completely naked. I could see, in the silvery moonlight, the heft and slight sag of her breasts, the generous curves of her hips and the darkness between her legs. She saw me, and waved, so I waved back. She began to stroke her breasts, first gently, then with increasing speed, throwing her head back with pleasure. My cock, which had risen immediately upon seeing her in the window, began to shake, and I started to stroke it mindlessly.

Maya's hands moved down her waist to her hips, and then began rubbing her pussy. From where I was, I couldn't see details, but it seemed like she was fingering herself, and her hips began to sway back and forth in rhythm. I realized that I was stroking myself with the same pace, and as Maya's body stiffened, then relaxed, I shot a rope of semen onto the wall below the window. Somehow, she seemed to know that I was done, and she reached down between her legs once more before blowing me a kiss and turning away, closing the curtains behind her.

I cleaned myself up, accessed the now password protected file on my computer and entered Maya into the journal for the only time. A few months later, she got engaged to a much older, wealthy man and moved away, selling the house to an elderly, childless couple.

Seaside Heights, New Jersey May 9, 2003 3:17 a.m.

Prom had been everything that I had hoped it would be. Madeline looked incredible in her dress, which showed off her long legs and tight bod. I was glad that we had agreed to go out again despite our fight when she told me, after coming back from camp a couple of summers ago, that she had "kind of" gone out with a guy there. It took a while for me to get over the hurt, and the disappointment that I had passed on a number of good opportunities to be unfaithful, particularly with Maya, but eventually, my strong feelings for her, and the fact that she was now willing to occasionally give me a blow job, smoothed over my feelings pretty effectively.

We had not yet, however, had sex, although we had kind of talked around the subject for prom night. And here we were, after a great prom, a fun after party, and under the influence of smuggled vodka, in a shitty motel room, at the shore. I had every reason to believe that this was the night that I would see Madeline fully undressed for the first time, and that we would lose our virginity to each other. Yes, it was a cliché, but I didn't care.

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byJayDavid© 1 comments/ 15483 views/ 0 favorites

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