Nude at the Museum

(A sequel to "Yes, Mr. Johnson")

I knew exactly what Glynda wanted to talk about when she invited me to her penthouse: her exclusive, high-rise suite, overlooking the sparkling clear blue water.

She wanted me to get naked at the museum again.

(And yes: my avant-garde artist's name really was Glynda.)

For those of you who can't bring yourself to read Part One, ("Yes, Mr. Johnson") my name is Laura, a recent grad student. I'm still 34C - 24 - 34 as far as I know and I still have short black hair that curls up so cute just under my ears.

Anyhow. After Glynda heard about what happened the last time: after my very last nude public pose; after my horrible encounter with my crazed fanatic fan, she was nearly inconsolable. I got multiple emails, texts, phone calls and flowers. It was "all my (her) fault," she "pushed you (me) into it," and I was "so sweet and beautiful but I nearly got you killed!"

Well.

I told her that I was a grown woman. I had decided to pose without my clothes, and I had definitely gotten overly excited in a very sexual and much too public way.

I actually masturbated for the jerk, naked on stage-- which was the number one reason why we couldn't go to the police.

The museum conducted their own investigation. Of course he used a phony name and a newly stolen credit card for his museum membership. They also had no record of anyone like him ever working there. He was obviously obsessed with Glynda's live nude female art and he probably talked to somebody who worked at the museum at some point, all to pretend that he was a disgruntled ex-employee.

And that was it. I moved on with my life, and Paul and I moved in together.

I still remember that first night after he literally tucked me into his bed, in his tiny one-bedroom apartment blocks from the scene of the near-crime. He kissed my forehead-- and left. I couldn't believe it.

I had stripped to my panties while he gallantly turned away until my brazen nakedness was safely hidden under the covers. Seven whole minutes went by. I stared at my watch. I got up and stood in the open doorway. He was sitting on his sofa, staring back at me.

"Are you really going to make sleep alone tonight... after everything?!"

As I turned: "I sleep in the nude, by the way," and I started pulling off my panties.

Well I never thought a big man like him could move that fast! He was behind me in two seconds; he grabbed me under my ass; (I yelped); he ripped my panties off; and he had me naked in his bed in all of three seconds.

When he got his own clothes off, I found out that he was a big man in another very special way. He made me forget all about my scare that night as I watched him so gently lower himself deeper and deeper inside my body until I couldn't believe I had room for all of him in there.

I definitely yelped even more-- several times.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Glynda's penthouse suite... I can only describe it by my own reaction as I walked off the elevator, down the plush carpeted hallway, and into her open door.

"Wow! Oh my god: wow!"

The view of the city, the other high-rise luxury condos, the gleaming office towers, and of course the glistening water view: from the harbor filled with pleasure boats out to the impossibly blue horizon.

"Was that 'wow' for the view or for me?" Glynda teased, taking my arm and leaning into me.

"Both," I had to admit. At first glance, my wonderfully thin and leggy artist friend appeared to be wearing a very short, black, terrycloth micro-mini dress. Then I noticed the matching belted tie.

"Yes it's a robe!" She laughed. "I am always running about nude here, being this high up, with reflective windows... I put a robe on for guests... well, certain guests."

I gulped. She was obviously very nude underneath. She sat us down at a round glass table with a view of the water... and her robe rode up another inch or two. Glynda had pencil-thin legs-- but they were so long, they were dynamite legs.

I'm sure she caught me looking before I pointedly turned away.

"This IS an amazing view." I sipped my cool ice tea. If I wasn't here to be seduced-- or to seduce-- than why did I drive nearly forty -five minutes? Why was I wearing short white designer shorts and a tight powder blue top that made me look... fetching?

Well I didn't want to be fetched. I had Paul. No other fetching for me for now.

"You have another job for me." I blurted it out as I turned to face her. Not only was she looking me over as if she was memorizing my body, her robe had somehow climbed up another inch. I estimated there was only one more inch left until "Hello Kitty!" level.

"And I'm posing nude... I assume."

Now Glynda looked away.

"I... I just... I know after what happened to you, and how I felt afterward..."

She put her drink down and scooted her chair closer.

"You are my most amazing, most real, God-honest naturally beautiful model."

Glynda put her left hand on my right knee.

"There's something about you. When you're naked you're... everywoman, but also every man's dream."

She pointed to her entertainment system.

"I still have the unedited digital film of you. I will never post it. I never ever want some other ignorant creep out there, masturbating or--"

She broke off and quickly turned away.

Glynda was actually getting emotional. I put my hand on her shoulder. I rubbed her back.

"It wasn't that bad you know. And-- I got Paul out of the whole crazy experience. And-- it really really wasn't your fault."

Glynda reached out for her ice tea and took a swig as if it was a much stronger drink.

"I know, I know. It's... my therapist tells me I have to be open with the people I love. If I'm not open, other doors will never open."

She licked her lips and looked straight at me.

"I play that film of you naked... again and again. Even though your face isn't in it, it's as if every inch of your body is glowing, just for me. I'm in love with you, or I'm in love with the idea of you. Either way... you are one of the most perfect works of art I have ever seen. I simply have to have you naked again. And I want others to have you too."

I had been wondering if I was going to be facing a seduction attempt as well as a naked job offer. But I wasn't expecting to be told that my beautiful, avant-garde artist was deeply in love with me.

I stared out at the water view until I noticed a change in Glynda's breathing. She too was staring out but there were silent tears falling from her eyes. I put my ice tea down. I took her ice tea from her hand. I moved my chair even closer to hers and I put my arm around her.

She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder. I began stroking her long, much-too-red red hair.

I looked down and noticed Glynda's robe had finally fallen open enough to reveal a bit of fluffy brown hair down there.

I tried to ignore it.

"I think I'm in love with the idea of you too."

She seemed startled at that admission, but stayed quiet, trying to blink back her tears.

"I'm still in awe of you as an artist, and I am continually amazed that you're so beautiful but you don't seem to know it.

But... I'm really not into women at all... never even thought about it. I'm not against the idea..."

I hesitated. The truth was the best option.

"I'm not ruling it out; meaning: I'm never ruling YOU out. You're beautiful, and you've been so sweet and loving to me..."

Then I did something totally spontaneous. I did not want to lead on this sweet, special, very vulnerable lady.

But.

I reached down and fluffed up her brown fur with my fingers... then I closed her robe.

Glynda let out a gasp. I grabbed her and she grabbed me and we kissed hard, mouths open.

"I understand," she sighed as our lips parted. "l'll wait for you to make up your mind.

I am continuously invited to the most exclusive parties around the world. I've been chased by at least two princes around their yachts, one king in his bedroom, and one real Lady... well, I let that particular Lady catch me!

I would give all of that up only to spend a few days right here, being naked with you. Kissing you and touching you and laughing with you and loving you."

She gave a heavy sigh and I held her tight.

"I will think about that. I think I might like that. I think I might be ready for that. But...

First you've got to tell me all about my next nude assignment!"

(I will let Glynda tell this part of the story in her own words, without any more annoying interruptions from me:)

"First of all, this will be taking place in the newly renovated City Museum on the waterfront-- it's only six blocks from here.

You will be suspended over a members only, private viewing area on a special block of glass. The glass is made of the same glass they used on the walkway over the Grand Canyon.

This particular block of glass used to hold seven or eight hundred pounds of ultraviolet minerals; quite a show as people walked under it, lit only by black light.

The glass is encased in and held up by thin steel bars that gleam just like glass and are hardly noticeable. These bars are not just attached to the wall-- they are embedded in all of the layers of wall out to the outside concrete and stone.

You'll be suspended eight feet off the ground... we roll out a ladder for access. The glass is seven feet long and three and a half feet wide-- so you have to be careful up there! Your naked body will be the last thing the museum-goers see as they exit-- two or three feet above their heads.

We like the timed, seven-minute rule. One minute to get in, five minutes really enjoying the exhibit-- and especially enjoying you-- then one minute exiting.

There is some interaction with the visitors... they can ask you to hold any one pose for up to five minutes. Any pose is allowed, no matter how naughty, as long as it's not harmful or potentially harmful to you.

You'll be one of three nude models; you'll go once in the morning for an hour-- technically fifty-six minutes-- and once in the afternoon.

The theme is 'Discarded / Rising Above.' There will be a circular area, enclosed by a plexiglass 'fence.' It will look as if your own glass platform is a diving board over a pool.

Except: this 'pool' won't be filled with water. It will be filled with discarded female clothing:

High heels, pumps, slippers, flip-flops, sneakers, tennis shoes, boots, stockings, garters, socks, pantyhose, leggings, panties, bloomers, thongs, corsets, bras, girdles, slips, petticoats, nightgowns, baby-dolls, robes, dresses, skirts, blouses, jumpers, bikinis, one-piecers, shorts, jeans, slacks, business suits, tank tops, sun hats, caps, bonnets, jackets, coats, scarves and mittens.

Oh! Then there'll be a smattering of jewelry and makeup items; you won't be wearing any makeup at all. Totally nude means totally nude!

You're worried about the routine of driving here, forty-five minutes each way, and then hanging out for your afternoon show. Don't be: I rent a suite a few floors below me; it's yours and Paul's for the week. I guess Paul will be the first one to make love to you out on a balcony with a view of the water... I was hoping it was going to be me!"

Well. Time for me to jump in again. Yes, Paul and I made love (translation: had crazy sex) out on the balcony in the middle of the day. The balconies were very private. Although, if someone in one of those gleaming office towers happened to bring their binoculars to work...

Glynda didn't know that I had become a sort of exhibitionist. Now that's silly: how do you "sort of" run around in public with your clothes off?!

Paul and I had only recently discovered a fairly secluded hiking spot, tucked into the middle of all the suburban sprawl. A parking area for only three or four cars, a quick walk up a trail, and we were suddenly in deep woods. We took the trail all the way up-- steep at times, but Paul was trying to get in shape-- and there was a view of a nearby interstate highway, just a thousand feet or so away.

I looked at Paul and said "I'm stripping." He just stared. I shrugged and pulled off my t-shirt, my bra, then my shorts and panties over my hiking shoes. I jumped up and down with my tits bouncing, waving crazily at the traffic that was roaring by... a thousand feet away, down a slope, moving about eighty miles an hour.

Paul just watched, licking his lips.

"You are crazy but you're beautiful... I love you so much!"

Now guys: that's what you should say when your girlfriend rips off her clothes in semi-public like that! Why? Because we had such crazy-beautiful sex when we got home.

Was that all, you ask? No. I had noticed there were two older guys there, fishing on the other side of a stream. I did what I never should have done: I went back, the same time of day. Alone.

I was lucky. They were there again. I was right on the main path. I ducked behind a tree and stripped. I was only wearing a tee and short shorts. I walked up to the other side of the river. Naked.

They stared.

"Oh my goodness! I guess now was not a good time for me to walk around like this!"

The guy with gray hair spoke up. "Oh that's okay sweetheart; you can walk around like that anytime!"

The bald guy was silent and unmoving.

"I'm really bad: going naked hiking and hoping nobody will see me." It was like I was an actress reciting her lines-- or like when I played the naked secretary in my last museum appearance. I was too much in shock at myself to turn red; I was actually shaking.

"This stream's a bit cold to cross in your bare feet; so why don't you cross over that bridge, come and join us!"

"Oh no," I said. "Now you guys are being bad! My naked hiking's over for today... I just hope my boyfriend never finds out!"

(That part was sincere.)

As I turned to go: "Your boyfriend is one lucky man."

Then the bald guy finally found his voice: "Holy shit! What a sweet ass!"

Paul must have wondered what got into me that night. I begged him to do something to my ass he had never done before. It was a valiant attempt but he was way too big.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My first nude morning scheduled pose and there I was: undressing once again in a backroom in a museum. I walked the six blocks in a loose, oversized tee and some baggy boy-shorts. No underwear; we didn't want any unsightly lines from bra straps or even too-tight panty waistbands.

I put on a very short, very silky, very sexy little robe. It was dark blue and it was both soft and clingy. I loved the feeling on my naked body, especially the brushing of my hard-button nipples against the fabric and how tight yet bouncy my ass cheeks felt as I walked the short, very private corridor.

There was only one door to enter marked "Control Room." I had been told to walk right in. I took a deep breath--

There was a compact, muscular man smiling at me. He had an unruly mop of light brown hair, olive eyes and olive skin. There was a wall of five TV/video screens behind him, a stool, some shelves, and some bulky computer equipment.

"You are Laura and you are the beautiful one. I am Davood and you are my guardian."

"Huh?"

He laughed and displayed a row of perfect white teeth. "My English! I am your guardian. I will protect you. You will never fall or harmed when I am here."

I didn't know what to say or do. Whenever he smiled... wow! He was a beautiful man. I leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. He took my head in his hands and kissed me on the lips instead.

I already said "wow;" wow again!

"Do you want to be the nude in here, or wait until you climb the glass?"

I hesitated. I turned my back to him. I undid my robe. I started to let it fall off my shoulders.

I felt his strong, gentle hands pull the robe off me. He put one of his hands on my shoulder and turned me around to face him as he draped the robe over some type of computer equipment.

He looked me over as if he had never seen a naked woman before.

"You are the one," he whispered.

He took my chin and lifted it up with his right hand. He ran his left hand up and down the contours of my naked form: never being intimate, but making me feel like I was a rare work of art.

"I will hug and kiss naked now; then we will go." He took me in his muscular arms and I nearly melted. His kiss was even gentler now that I was nude than when my robe was on. I ran my hands up and down the rippling muscles of his back.

I kept an image of my sweet Paul in my head: a man who loved me getting naked in public; a man who was desperately trying to get back into shape for me.

Without Paul in there with me, i would have been pulling down chinos and leaning against the wall with my legs around the waist of a man I had just met.

I was that sexed up.

Davood pressed a button and it seemed that part of the wall opened up. I was looking into a much larger area; all white and shiny metal and warmly lit.

Davood grasped what I had thought were clear plastic shelves-- the whole thing was actually a ladder on wheels. I followed him naked into the museum proper... the place where I would be very improperly exposing every part of me that made me a woman.

It was a little like entering a conical-shaped spaceship: everything was white panels, framed by gleaming silver metal. It was a big round area-- thirty feet across?-- and my glassy platform did resemble a diving board, over a sea of women's clothing.

"Wow wow wow" I said. "This is amazing, beautiful..." I had to stop because I was actually getting choked up.

Davood was behind me. He wrapped those strong arms around me and pressed his hands into my firm but soft belly. "You are what makes beautiful... you are only work of art in this place."

I pushed my naked body back against his body until I could feel his hardness against my bare ass.

"No no no," he turned me around. "It is right that you are horny-- She wants your girl juice all over glass-- but I must stay strong and hard without you."

He rolled the clear plastic ladder up to the glass and locked the wheels. I looked up and I was suddenly frightened. Eight feet up is eight feet up!

"Go up back ass: trust me! I must kiss your body along the way to keep you knowing you are safe and warm."

I did what he told me although I was crying softly almost all the way up. When my pussy was level with his lips, he kissed me right there. His lips were wet and he briefly pressed them against the bulge in my hoodie where my currently shy love nub was hiding out-- or hiding in.

Davood's kisses kept me going until he began to nibble my baby toes. Suddenly my naked butt was butting up against surprisingly warm glass.

"I'm here!" I was nearly shouting.

"Take it the easy; sit back, then swing the pretty legs up."

I did everything this beautiful creature told me. I was here: naked on my slab. I was about to show every inch of my body-- and probably some inside inches of my body-- to total strangers.

I looked down at myself. My clit appeared to be uncoiling; springing out like a naughty baby snake. My tits were so hard they almost hurt.

"I'm ready," I said. "Pull the ladder away."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My first visitors were a very attractive, stylishly dressed couple; maybe in their late thirties. They both seemed amused at the pool of discarded female clothes. I didn't realize that there were attached poles with scoops at the end like pool skimmers. I watched the husband play until he scooped up some teeny lace panties. They both laughed.

There was supposed to be much signage outside: "Members Only Area;" "Timed Tickets Required;" and the ever-popular dire warning of "Full Female Nudity."

Then they got to the placard: I was "the brunette." I had risen above my need for clothing, jewelry and makeup and any other manmade artifices. Only their helpful suggestions for poses would help bind my physical body to this plane of existence.