My Naked Marathon with Amanda

"Here!" she triumphed and pointed to her right inner thigh. "I found somewhere to put it."

"Isn't that a sensitive spot?" Werner asked.

"Do I seem like someone who is afraid of tattoo needles?" Amanda asked. "As long as you keep these spliffs coming, I'm just going to lay back and enjoy being tattooed."

"Way to go!" Werner laughed.

Amanda put out the last bit of her joint in the ashtray and reached for another beer. We had reached the city and soon we stopped at a red light. Pedestrians crossing in front of us noticed the well-endowed naked women at the centre of the front seat. Amanda waved back at them and laughed.

"No. I don't want that stinking blanket, you boring lawyer," she said, as I tried to cover her.

Finally, we reached Werner's basement shop which was in a lively neighbourhood at the harbour. It was evening. People were sitting outside bars and restaurants or drinking beer from bottles in the streets, while trying to evade the deep puddles the heavy rain had left.

Luckily, Werner had his own private parking spot close to the entrance, so we managed to get the naked Amanda inside almost unnoticed.

"I want pizza!" Amanda demanded. "Can we go somewhere and have pizza?" she asked, apparently forgetting all about our present financial situation.

"I'm going to make you that tattoo," Werner said to her. "Lie down, please!"

She lay down on the couch in the middle of the shop, as Werner passed me a 20 € bill:

"There's a pizzeria down the street on the left. Go and buy a couple of pizzas. You can take my denim jacket if you like."

"Can I please have another joint?" Amanda demanded.

Werner handed her one while I put on his jacket and wrapped the blanket around my lower body. An awkward outfit for a trip out into the nightlife but probably less problematic than sending stoned, naked Amanda out to buy pizzas.

There was a long line of customers and it was a little humiliating to stand there, frantically holding on to the old blanket that was covering my private parts. But what the hell... I was never going to see these people again. It took me more than half an hour to get back with two pizzas, a quattro stagioni and a frutti di mare.

7. On the run

I got a shock as I was about to enter the tattoo shop's basement entrance and Amanda, naked as before, almost ran me over as she came storming out. I managed to hold on to the pizzas as I yelled:

"What? Why? Wait!"

But Amanda had already gained a head start of more than 10 meters in a northerly direction along the harbour and I decided to follow her. I nearly stumbled in the blanket that I had to let go of. Then I ran in Werner's old, short denim jacket with my dick and balls dangling back and forth below.

People were cheering and clapping at the spectacle as the naked blonde led the race with a guy with no pants and two pizza boxes. We had reached point where the street turned slightly away from the harbour before I caught up with Amanda who had slowed down a bit by then. We were outside the party zone and only the people in the cars now stared at us and commented on our nudity by honking their horns.

"What happened?" I asked, out of breath.

"He put his fucking finger up my yoni while he was tattooing me!" Amanda explained furiously.

"Idiot!" I commented.

"Let's go somewhere and eat the pizzas. I think I know the way to the border."

"What do you mean?"

"That fucking moron... Werner... explained it to me before he tried to finger-fuck me."

Amanda led the way down a side street along some old railway tracks that had been paved over with asphalt and into an industrial area that was almost deserted by this time of the evening.

"You want the jacket?" I asked. I thought it could at least cover her boobs and maybe part of her ass and pussy.

"No. Keep it. I don't want anything that belongs to him."

There was a lawn to our right, surrounded by burning torches, and in a corner some people were having a barbecue and drinking beer. We passed through the area and a few of them turned their heads but seemed to mind their own business, hardly taking notice of our remarkable lack of clothing.

We sat down on a jetty in the small yacht harbour.

"It's easy to find from here. Just along the coastline for a couple of kilometres, and we're at the border," Amanda explained.

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yes. The jerk gave me a detailed description."

"And you sure you don't want anything that belongs to him."

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I just found a pack of cigarettes in his pocket," I smiled and produced an almost empty pack of Marlboro Reds from Werner's jacket.

"In that case, I'll make an exception."

Amanda grabbed the pack, picked one of the two remaining cigarettes, and lit it at one of the torches. My dick immediately applauded with a standing ovation. I hurried to take off the jacket and use it to hide my erection.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked as she sat down next to me.

"It's just... it turns me on when you light a cigarette."

"What?"

"You look so hot when you smoke."

"So hot that it gives you a hard-on."

"Yeah!"

"So you would like to fuck me right now?"

Amanda inhaled extra deeply from her cigarette.

"Yes!"

"Don't you think the place is a bit crowded for that?"

"I agree. I'll control my erection. Want some cold pizza?"

"Okay," she said and took one of the pizza boxes. She opened it and ate her pizza while smoking, looking expectantly at my face and the bulge in Werner's denim jacket whenever she in- or exhaled smoke.

After eating the pizzas, we found a waste bin for the empty boxes and continued down the road. Amanda lit the last Marlboro with her cigarette butt, and I had to tie the jacket around my waist to hide my erection.

"So smoking makes you horny, huh?" Amanda giggled.

"Your smoking does."

"So whenever I feel like a fuck I can just light up and you'll come running?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Nice to know!"

We reached a lawn with some bushes and trees and a path leading to the beach. Amanda scouted around.

"Let's see if we can find a spot...," she said.

"For what?"

"For our fuck. We'd better find somewhere before I finish my cigarette. Otherwise you might lose interest."

"I wouldn't worry about that," I assured Amanda while I sensed my dick get even harder.

She put her half-smoked cigarette between her lips and dragged me to a private corner of the small park behind some bushes. Kneeling down in front of me she removed the jacket and took me into her mouth. Her cigarette and my dick took turns being in her mouth.

"I'm coming," I moaned.

She immediately turned around.

"Come inside me, doggy style."

I slid into her and came, forcefully, inside her wet pussy.

Amanda got to her feet.

"I need a quick dip," she said and took a last drag from her cigarette before dropping it on the grass. She ran to the beach and threw herself into the fjord. I followed her, leaving Werner's jacket in the sand.

When we were covered in water to the chests, Amanda pointed to the woods to the north.

"That's the other side of the border. That's Denmark," she said. "We just have to get there."

A few minutes later we were enjoying the comfortably warm summer evening, sitting on the beach on top of Werner's jacket. It was after nine and most people had left. This was no nude beach but our nakedness seemed to attract little, if any, attention.

"What about the tattoo? Did you get that beer label tattooed on your thigh?"

"Well... sort of," Amanda laughed.

She showed me the upper part of her right inner thigh where the oval outline of the beer label was now tattooed with the letters FLENSBU in it.

"Do you think you can get someone to finish that at home? I guess you're not going back to Werner to get it done."

"Right. I don't know. I might leave it as it is. It's a souvenir from a crazy day and a good story to tell."

"Okay. And I guess it's on a part of the body where not too many people will notice it."

"You never know, do you, Svend?" she smiled.

"Should we move on?" I asked.

"Yeah. We'd better. And I guess you can control your dick now that I'm out of cigarettes?"

"Who knows. I think you're really hot also when you're not smoking."

I leant toward her and kissed her. At the taste of her smoky breath, I could feel my dick harden. I got up before getting too visibly horny.

"Let's go!" I suggested and gave Amanda a hand to help her up.

Staying on the beach or on a path in the wood along the coast we were able to walk the next couple of kilometres almost unnoticed towards the border despite our being very lightly clad (me) or even outright naked (Amanda).

What had to be the Danish coast ahead of us seemed really close as we, at some point, had to leave the beach and walk along a road.

"We have to turn right down a small road somewhere here. The jerk wrote down the name on my hand. It's Dammweg, D-A-M-M-W-E-G," Amanda spelled it out to me as we looked for the road.

"There it is!" I said and pointed to the sign while Amanda was ignoring a group of young men in a car, shouting obscenities at her in German.

We turned down the Dammweg and reached a small wooden bridge.

"This is the border. Denmark starts right there. This is exactly as the moron described it to me," Amanda said and pointed to the bridge.

8. Crossing the border

Apparently, we were all alone. It had begun to darken even though it never really gets dark on Scandinavian summer nights. Hand in hand we crossed the wooden construction that bridged the estuary of a small river into the fjord.

"We're in Denmark!" I cheered.

"It's so good to be home!" Amanda agreed and hugged me.

"Now we just have another 30 kilometres to walk before we're back at the house," I said.

We had walked just a few more meters when that problem was solved. On the gravel road in front of us, a police patrol car caught us in the headlights.

The two bored policemen were very friendly as they informed us that we would be punished with a fine of 1.000 Danish kroner each for crossing the border without a passport. Luckily, that amount also covered a trip on the back seat back to the summer house, during which the two cops checked our identities and tactlessly had to go through the reason why Amanda had lost her driving license and the part of the fine she still owed the state.

Have you ever had sex in a garden hammock? We did that night. Amanda smoked most of the cigarettes she had left in the house and the sun had risen before we finally fell asleep in each other's arms under a blanket.

After breakfast we went back to Odense in the Audi. I drove Amanda almost all the way to the house where she was living with her boyfriend. We exchanged phone numbers and kissed goodbye in the car. Then she left, covered with a blanket, carrying her stiletto sandals and her cigarettes in one hand.

9. One year later

About a year later, on a grey summer's day, I was at the car park of this big mall in the south of Odense with my parents. In the corner of my eye I caught sight of a woman lighting a cigarette at the entrance. I turned my head.

It was Amanda, inconspicuously dressed in white sneakers, ripped blue jeans, and a baggy, pink sweatshirt. I sent my parents ahead and walked toward her.

"Svend!" she said, smiling as she saw me. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping with my parents," I explained.

We hugged and I recognized Amanda's familiar scent of cigarettes and perfume.

"And here am I, smoking!" she said and took an enticing inhale from her newly lit cigarette. "I hope you can keep Little Svend inside your pants."

"I think I can manage," I said and felt the hardening of my dick.

"I don't know about that," she smiled and pointed to my crotch with her cigarette and her long, red fingernails while exhaling smoke.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I don't have one."

"What do you mean?"

"A dick. I don't have one."

She smiled.

"No, I mean... what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for my husband and daughter."

I sensed a sting of disappointment.

"You got married?"

"Yeah."

She took another hit from her cigarette.

"To the guy you ran away from last summer?"

"Yeah. We kind of patched things up and decided to get married."

"So how's it going?"

"So-so. We have our ups and downs, you know. But who doesn't?" she said, blowing clouds of smoke as she spoke.

"Right."

"What about you?"

"I'm not married."

"I thought so. You're not exactly the impulsive kind, are you? Are you a lawyer now?"

"Yes. I work at this law firm in central Copenhagen."

"Sounds boring! You're on a career track, huh?"

"Maybe. I have some interesting cases."

"Oh, I bet. But no time for fun?"

"Not like that. I do have time for fun. Just call me whenever you feel like another kayak trip. We bought new kayaks for the summer house."

Amanda started waving at somebody behind me while taking a final inhale from her cigarette.

"Oh, there they are. I've got to go," she said, dropped the cigarette on the asphalt and extinguished it with her sneaker. Then Amanda gave me an intense look:

"I may take you up on that offer, you know. Some day. I've got your number. And I really like... kayaking."

She winked at me, exhaled the last plume of smoke, and started walking in the direction of her husband and daughter.

I moved toward the entrance of the shopping centre without looking back, wondering about the visibility of the bulge in my trousers and looking forward to a phone call from Amanda.