Attitudes Change

The sun is at 8 o'clock. The circular thermometer to the right of the sliding doors registers 71 degrees. A mild breeze is blowing across the yard. Much of the yard is in shade. The umbrella is open over the deck.

This is my mid week day off work. I've had the house to myself since my husband Jon, a physician in G I M, left for work an hour ago. Saturday will find me in the ICU caring for critically ill patients.

Jon is older than me by 15 years. I turned 34 two weeks ago at the end of May.

A firm believer in keeping my body fit, I had stepped off the elliptical minutes earlier after pumping my legs for about 15 minutes. My body is a slim hourglass. Its measurements 35-24-36 are similar to those of actress Kaley Cuoco.

I brought a cup of coffee, my second that morning, to the deck. I lit my third cigarette of the morning, took a deep drag and exhaled toward the floor on my left.

I work hard at keeping fit. I eat healthy, then smoke 20 cigarettes, sometimes more, a day. It's a vice I picked up in college originally to calm my nerves. I know it's a contradiction, but what do I care. Colleagues, no doubt, criticize in their minds my choice to smoke.

I have time to think at a moment like this. Clothes are in the washer. The table has been cleared of breakfast dishes. The bed is made. I'll leave any other chores to Alice, my housekeeper.

A few years ago my sister Jane had mentioned that she and her husband Ken often go to Berkshire Vista, a nudist resort near the border with New York. Jon and I rejected that lifestyle out of hand. Nevertheless Jane pitched it enthusiastically.

Sometimes a person changes in ways that go unnoticed by the public. These are changes in attitude. For a few days now the notion to skinny dip has been popping into and out of my head. Only modesty kept me from actually doing so. Like most people, I regarded nudity as a private behavior.

I had come outside dressed in summer casual, a washed mauve romper and light-blue wedge sandals with imitation rope straps.

After about 20 minutes I gave in to the urge to go skyclad. I backed away from the table to pull off the romper which I left on the floor. I unhooked the Sand strapless brassiere letting gravity take it down. I pulled the panties off.

This nudity does feel good. I can stay like this. My mind drifted as did the Icy blue chair in which I was sitting. The time passed as the sun beat down on my body.

My phone rang bringing me back to the deck. The call turns out to be coming from my high school friend Jackie Swanson.

Self employed as an illustrator, Jackie usually works from home on her own schedule.

I would remain nude even long after ending the call because I like it. So what if she sees me.

A half hour elapsed then I heard a car door. Less than a minute later Jackie took the seat facing me on the deck. She seemed to not care that I was sitting naked. It did not feel the least bit awkward.

After several minutes of friendly chat I said, "let's take a dip."

"I don't even have a bathing suit."

"Don't let that stop you."

I stood up and walked to the edge then looked back at her.

"You go in," she said.

I waited in waist dept water for my guest. Will she join me or will she go home? No you can't borrow a bathing suit. So what if I own two of them.

After half a minute she stripped off her ruched Heather Grey teeshirt dress, bra and panties then came into the water.

After a few seconds she climbed into the pool chair. She rested her hands on her thighs.

"My sister and her husband go to Berkshire Vista. It's near the border with New York."

She gave a knee jerk reply.

"Have you ever been there?"

"No I haven't," I replied. I added, "My husband would never go for it."

"It's hot as hell and you won't loan me a bathing suit."

The words came out with a grin.

"You're right."

We stayed in the water for maybe another 15 minutes then went to sit on the deck.

I toweled off and lit another cigarette.

"I'll make coffee."

Jackie and I sipped our coffee and nibbled cookies on the deck while making small talk. Out of curiosity I asked about her most recent project.

"It's about the earth, changes in landscape and animal life. I'll probably have more than a hundred pictures before I finish it."

"Have you met the writer?"

"We met. We talked about the book over coffee at Starbucks before I started the illustrations."

"Is he young?"

"He's in his forties. He's Very handsome."

I nodded. Do you like him?

Instead of that I asked, "is he single or married."

"He's married."

That's too bad.

After a few more minutes Jackie put her clothes back on and gave her excuse to leave. "I have do some grocery shopping."

"Listen I'm glad you came."

Shortly after 5 p.m. Jon came into the kitchen. A pot of chilly was simmering on the right front burner. I was sitting nude having a cigarette. Four stubs filled the ashtray on the table in front of me.

"You really need to quit."

I nodded and took another long drag. I don't want to quit. I like smoking.

Sex need not be confined to the bedroom. Jon and I had decided that long ago.

"Jerk off for me."

He stood putting his back against the counter and started stroking his man parts through his pants. After about a minute he pulled them off then resumed stroking, this time through boxer briefs which barely concealed a large erect penis.

He pulled the underpants off then wrapped his hand around the shaft. He pumped his hand rapidly.

"Do it. I want to see your cum."

A few minutes passed. He kept pumping his hand.

Suddenly white goop streamed landing on the floor inches from his feet.

"Can you go again for me? You know you enjoy it."

"Give me a few minutes."

"I can wait."

By now I have no doubt that my husband wants me to masturbate in front of him. I'll do so after supper.

We cleared the table then came into the living room. I took a seat in one of two tan fabric chairs and faced him in the other chair. My left hand crept to my clit which slowly swelled under the gentle rub.

Meanwhile my other hand gently squeezed one breast then the other brushing each nipple as it did so.

Muscle tension in the pelvic area caused me to pant and quiver. On the brink of a powerful orgasm I said softly, "hon I'm very close."

The words hung in the air barely a second before my climax happened.

"I'm sticky down there."

"I'll bet you are," he quipped.

I slouched in the chair recuperating slowly.

In the meantime Jon had been jerking himself in the race to a climax. He pumped his fist in the air celebrating it.

My eye soon went to the white goop just below his pecs and on his ribs.

"That is so hot," I quipped.