Nudity is For The BirdsbyKethandra©
"For today, abandon rude or disrespectful unneighborliness, photography without explicit permission, and uninvited groping, all ye who would enter here. Tomorrow, ask yourself if you want them back."
-Sign above the gate at Potter Farm's Annual Birthday Suit Bazaar and Celebration of The Skin You're In.
Robin almost didn't go that year. Two years in a row she had joined a small group of her sorority sisters at the local Nude Day celebration. Two years in a row she had posed the same riddle, like the Sphinx terrorizing Thebes, with an unspecified reward for the first brave and brainy hero who could solve it. She had nearly lost hope that anyone in this backwards, Miller High Life-drinking corner of Ohio met her idea of a hero.
The three girls at her door seemed genuinely dismayed, though. She rarely joined their 'fun,' and her quest for her own unique nude knight had become something of a sorority legend.
"Yay!" The three jumped in a mock-cheer when she acquiesced, not wanting to disappoint her sisters. Even if she knew one of the reasons they most wanted her presence was to attract more men to them with the proven combination of her long red hair, sweet lovely face with that big sincere smile she'd been told melted hearts, and two of the most magnificent, perfect breasts any of them had seen in their young lives. And the riddle, of course.
Usually, pretty young girls did not particularly seek out the company of girls like Robin who would steal the spotlight, but her riddle game guaranteed the boldest of boys and men would approach the group, only to be spurned. And spurned men, in the presence of multiple naked lovelies, tended to refocus their attention elsewhere very quickly. Her sisters shared more attention than they could possibly want.
Robin pulled on jeans, bra and t-shirt for the drive to the Potter farm, just over the county line, where the annual event was held. She heard the sigh when she pulled her shoes from the back of her closet.
"You're not wearing those hideous shoes again, are you?"
She looked up at the three as she slipped on the worn but still bright blue leather boating shoes. She had spent countless hours in these shoes, sailing the waters of the East Coast on family vacations. "Love me, love my shoes. They remind me of my family."
"That last thing I want to be reminded of when I'm surrounded by naked men is my family. Yuck." That was Christine, the willowy blond that got most of the attention once they failed Robin's test. The other two giggled. Christine was a major flirt, in defiance of her Ohio family which had preachers going back four generations.
Robin grabbed a small bag, made sure she had a couple of generic "Hello I'm" name tags and a marker in it, and they headed toward the beat-up Dodge Dart Swinger that the sorority had invested $200 in for the girls to share. Once inside the car and off campus, arms slipped in through arm holes and the girls did that magical dance that allowed bras to escape without undressing, Christine steering from the passenger seat while the driver made the change. No one wanted any creases or red lines spoiling the view once they disrobed.
After the elderly Dart, nicknamed the "Swingmobile" because of the ludicrous Swinger designation Chrysler had given the boxy model, was parked in the packed dirt parking area of the farm, the girls bailed out, stretching and looking out for any cute guys also arriving. It seemed as though almost no one from their small, conservative college, Mount Unity, either knew about or dared attend the annual event, fortunately. Only local students and those taking summer classes like Robin were still around in July anyhow.
All four girls stripped, each carrying only a small bag for wallet and essentials slung over a shoulder. Momentarily panicked, Robin eyed the overcast sky thankfully: she'd forgotten sunscreen. With her fair skin, a sunny unprotected day could mean a week of pain and peeling. It looked like rain - not at all uncommon during the humid summers here - was more likely than blue skies.
The lovely redhead carefully affixed the two small, self-adhesive name tags, one above each beautiful breast. With the marker, she had carefully crossed out the "I'm" and written in "We're." As had become expected, she received the amused shakes of three heads. Like everyone else, her sorority sisters had no idea what Robin was thinking.
Naked except for their small purses and their shoes (two pairs of canvas sneakers, Christine's wedged heels that stretched her long tanned legs out even more than usual, and the eye roll-worthy blue Topsiders), the girls headed toward the gate, prepaid tickets in hand. No tickets were ever sold at the gate or the day of the event, and no alcohol was allowed inside, to limit unruliness and appease the local authorities.
"Come on, Jaybird. It'll be fun."
"There'll be titties. Lots and lots of titties."
"Riddle-me Red will be there."
Jay looked up that last. "How the hell do you know?"
Vern, the big, lumbering former guard on the local high school football team, now a part time janitor at the one of the two rubber band factories in town, shrugged. "She was there the last two years and she's here at Mount for summer school classes again."
Jay knew why they wanted him to go: Billy had been called in to work at the family IGA grocery store today and no way was Vern not getting paid for the fourth ticket. In 1983, ten dollars was no chump change. Otherwise, Jay was not usually on the top of their list for "it'll be fun" weekend company, especially if titties might be involved.
Even though he has gone to elementary and middle school with the rest of them, Jay was considered odd. He'd disappeared to go "back East" somewhere to a special college for the young and gifted. Now 19, he would have a college degree by Christmas. None of the others had any schooling past graduating from the miserable local high school, except Billy with one year worth of marketing and general Ed. classes at "Tri-C," the local community college. Even Mount Unity, known mainly for its Ag department, seemed an intellectual world apart to them.
Riddle-me Red. Vern had come up with the name when he came back with stories from the Birthday Suit Bazaar two years ago. Held back in second grade, he was a year older than the rest of the boys in his class, so he had met the eighteen year age cut off a summer sooner.
In the small town, Red stood out, and once the guys saw Brainiac Jay (if Vern been had been a little quicker with words and thought, 'Jayniac' would have been the kind of teasing label he would have used tirelessly) turn into a clumsy fool at the sight of her, they were merciless.
Other than Brainiac, the best Vern had been able to do in terms of nicknames for him had been Jaybird, after Jay had been spotted bird watching as a twelve year old in an orchard outside town, his dad's heavy old binoculars around his neck. Bird watching, like being smart and reading anything not specifically required, was just plain odd.
With the limited creativity Vern generally showed, it was no wonder he was so proud of coming up with Riddle-me Red. Taking a line from the Riddler on Batman from TV and combining it with another word that started with the same letter (alliteration was not a word in Vern's world) was the very peak of his inventive prowess.
Brainiac Jay's public downfall had been at Fred's Root Beer drive-in last summer. Riddle-me herself had passed near as Jay was carrying a full tray of root beer in frosty thick glass mugs, burgers, and deep-fried mushrooms. Distracted by the sighting, his foot had caught on the low curb he had stepped over successfully since he'd been a toddler, sending food flying. It has gone downhill from there when she bent over to help him. He caught a glimpse of her cleavage as she leaned down and he turned into a stuttering klutz, failing three times before he got the spilled mugs and now soaked paper-wrapped food back onto the tray.
Vern and Billy had witnessed it from Billy's old "three on the tree" Ford pickup, howling with laughter. The story had only grown from there with each telling. The worst part of the teasing was the truth behind it: Jay found girls in general rather confounding, especially pretty ones, and the redhead was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
The vision of her blue eyes looking into his, and her sweet smile, without a hint of laughter at his clumsiness, combined with the brief glimpse of her pale full breasts pressed together over the thin line of lace bra haunted his fantasies ever since. He still saw vividly the speckling of faint freckles that has been revealed to him in that soft creamy valley whenever he thought of her. And he thought of her often, especially in bed when the lights were out.
Jay signed. He knew he wouldn't approach her close enough to see those freckles again, but the chance to see Red naked was too good to miss. "Okay, I'll go."
Vern had managed to borrow his parent's station wagon. Jay was in the back seat with Troy, the quiet slim one who had been Vern's yes-man and shadow since kindergarten. For once, Troy spoke up, leaning over the back of the vinyl-covered bench front seat. "What's Red's riddle again?"
"Man, it's two words! You've gotta mind like..." Vern paused, stumping himself with how to finish what he'd started.
Jay pitched in. "Swiss cheese? A sieve?"
"Shut up, Brainiac!" Troy turned to punch him in the arm, already pissed he was stuck in the back with the nerd.
Chuck, sharing the front seat, answered. "Two name tags, one over each perfect, full, squeezable boob." His hands gestured as though they lovingly cradled one of the legendary mounds. "Instead of 'Hello I'm' she changed it to 'Hello We're', as in 'We Are'."
Troy was still trying to get it. "So, we're supposed to fill in the blank?"
Chuck shrugged without turning around. "I guess. No one knows for sure."
"Are there ellipses?" Jay asked. He pronounced it ee-lip-seez.
"Jesus, Jay! Lips what?"
Jay explained. "Three dots. Periods. That would make it clear she's looking for whatever comes next."
"Periods?" Vern was laughing at his own joke before he got it out. "I hope not. Naked periods walking around would be nasty."
Chuck chimed in. "And Jaybird will be what comes next. Probably shoot his little load as soon as he sees her."
Laughter filled the station wagon. Jay even joined in at that one, but still blushed at the insult, wondering if there was some truth to it.
Jay felt better about himself once they'd stripped in the parking lot after sitting in the hot car too long, gathering their courage and watching the couples, singles and small groups filtering in. They didn't recognize anyone from town. As usual, it seemed most of the attendees had driven down from the bigger cities like Akron and Canton and even as far away as Cleveland. More than a few looked suspiciously like hippies and most were older and wrinklier than a young man's idea of what he'd hope to see at such an event.
Jay had the advantage of being a swimmer, competing on his school's team in the winter and an AAU club during the summer. That meant he had a fair amount of lean, toned muscle and a good even tan everywhere a Speedo didn't cover.
The other three had some version of a "farmer's tan:" sun-browned arms and a tan ring around the neck, pale everywhere else. Chuck and Troy apparently both wore short sleeves outside: their tan started at the bicep, with Chuck adding the extra triangle of a v-neck. Vern had bordered on fat even when he played football, and the time away from sports hadn't helped. Combining that with the habit of wearing just a sleeveless undershirt and cut-off jeans whenever outside left him with a flabby two-tone hick look that made the others appear in a far more positive light.
As they headed to the gate, tickets in hand, Jay's mind went over the riddle again and again. There had to be some trick to it. Something these clods had missed. And every other clod too, since apparently no one had yet solved Red's mystery.
By noon, the girls had endured a near endless stream of attempted riddlers. Christine was the only one still with Robin. The other two had left a little while earlier with a pair of cute Akron University basketball players who had turned their attention elsewhere after their riddle-solving attempts came up short: "Absolutely perfect" was complimentary and not gross, but woefully unoriginal; "the early birds, looking for their worm," accompanied by a knowing glance at his own naked worm, had gotten a chuckle from one of the girls and a synchronized eye roll from the others.
Christine's vote for best answer so far had come from a distinguished looking man showing a little grey around the temples and a fit body with an even head-to-toe tan. He'd tried out "definitely more than a handful, but absolutely nothing wasted."
Even if he was several inches shorter than she was in her wedges, Christine was disappointed he hadn't moved on to chat her up. Something about his smooth voice and that full body tan piqued her interest. Plus she liked older men, as two of her Mount Unity professors and a tutor had learned.
But not as old as the little chubby gnome with the denim paper-boy cap covering an obviously bald head. He came up with the attempt, and was slapped hard for violating the don't-touch rule.
"Hello, we're...here to scare the bees." He offered, a small smile curling his lips.
Robin was confused. "Huh? Scare the bees?"
"If you say so." Alternating, he poked each of her boobs with one extended finger on each hand several times in rapid succession. "Boo bees. Boo bees. Boo bees."
His delighted cackle was cut short by the sharp crack of Robin's full swing open palm, thrown like a hard topspin forehand in tennis. He looked like he might have a dislocated jaw the way he probed it gingerly as he scuttled away after he retrieved his hat.
It was amazing and disappointing how many guys tried just to fill in the blank with the simplest, coarsest failing attempts...
And the coarse if not quite as simple...
"Backdoor love handles."
"Mammalian protuberances." Points for the Zappa reference, but nothing else.
"My next meal." Yuck.
"Our baby's first meal." Double yuck.
"The world's finest hot dog bun, ready for my foot-long." More original, but even yuckier, since the fat slob with the world's worst redneck tan delivered it like a line he'd been practicing since last year, and his current lack of pants made the foot-long suggestion particularly laughable. Literally laughable, as both girls had looked down in unison, seen a mushroom paler and less appetizing than any cave-grown fungus, and failed to hold back their audible amusement. Robin gave an unconscious shudder as she remembered him from last year, with almost exactly the same line and result.
Vern had stomped off after Troy (next meal) and Chuck (baby meal), his large pinkish (the sun had begun to shine through thinning cloud cover) belly jiggling. That left Jay alone, thoughtful and nearly petrified with fear. At least he tried to remain thoughtful, while alternating images popped in and out of his mind's eye.
Perfect freckled cleavage framed in lace. Root beer-soaked fried mushrooms. Freckles. Mushrooms. At least the ruined mushrooms he saw weren't Vern's.
She was truly gorgeous. Not beauty contest, make-up and hairdo gorgeous. Natural, towel-dry-and-ready-to-go stunning radiance, especially with her hair shining even more resplendently in the recently-appearing sun's rays. That wonderful smile always near the surface.
And her body! He couldn't see freckles from here, but he could sure see nipples, pink and protruding but not too much. A belly that swelled that slightest just enough to lead the eye down to a short, shapely triangle of orange-red hair peaking out between her legs. Her legs were decidedly curvier and softer than the tall, slim beauty next to her. Creamy smooth legs that would be heaven wrapped around your hips or sliding softly over cheeks as your nose and mouth nuzzled closer to their moistening zenith.
Jay rarely considered himself a poet, but Red brought out his inner sonneteer. His eyes continued their journey the length of her legs, stopped at her shoes. Boat shoes, kind of preppy, in a bright blue. A blue that went well with her red hair and blue eyes, but an odd choice.
Think, Jaybird, think! You're different from these clods, these bumpkins that have been universally wrong. You're brilliant in school, you know calculus and organic chemistry like few your age, you have personally seen and identified over 207 species of birds. Why would you be intimidated by a pair of boobies?
An image came to Jay then of Boobies, the pelagic birds similar to the Albatross, bobbing their heads in their unique, comical mating dance. Nature shows on TV love to score the motion with upbeat Jazz. Red wanted to do her own mating dance, or she wouldn't be here, naked, having strange men lineup to try and solve her riddle. While wearing those odd blue shoes.
What was her mating dance? Don't step on my blue boat shoes? The blue-footed shuffle?
Blue-footed! Could it be? Jay's heart was racing. He waited, took a few deep breaths, like he did before mounting the starting blocks before a race. His heart slowed. Still, he was nervous enough to wonder if he'd be able to articulate words once he was face to face with her.
A muscular, tanned man, at least five years older than Jay, with flowing blond-streaked hair, was approaching Red. The kind of man who made Jay feel completely uninteresting to women. He saw the taller girl eying the man almost hungrily, openly appraising him while his attention was on Red.
Then the man was striding off, muttering and shaking his head. Jay stepped up. Red smiled at him. Instead of being intimidated, her smile calmed him, like a soothing warmth passing through his body. He noticed a slight wondering look to her eyes.
Her smile broadened. "Hi."
He checked over his shoulder. No one was waiting yet.
"Do you like birds?"
"Huh?" That was tall, tan, and slender, as though he'd just uttered the dumbest pick up line ever. Quite an accomplishment in the current social climate.
But Red's face lit up in genuine surprise. "I do! I'm named after one."
It was Jay's turn to be surprised. "Me too! I'm Jay."
He held out his hand in greeting.
"Come on, buddy. Take your guess and beat it." The annoyed voice came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, two guys had come up close, one tapping his foot, arms crossed over his naked chest.
A soft warm hand took his. "Don't mind them. I'm Robin. Nice to meet you, Jay."
Her voice was as soothing as her smile, but he sensed a nervous excitement from her hand in his. An anticipation in her eyes. Could he be right?
"They're Blue-footed Boobies." He blurted it out in a rush.
"Oh my god!" She dropped his hand, leaving him momentarily empty inside at the lost contact. Then her arms were tight around him, her soft hair and its unexpected intoxicating scent covering his face, her body pressed close to his as she squealed in delight. "Finally!"
The comforting, calming effect of Red's - Robin's - smile and touch was lost on Jay now that the entire, and entirely naked, girl was so close. He could feel her soft but firm breasts as she hopped in celebration against him. He could feel her nipples against his chest. The fear was back: the very likely erection popping up could ruin this moment.
He could push her away, but that would mean putting his hands on his living, jiggling fantasy. He became aware of sharp, uncomfortable irritation on his bare chest. It didn't actually hurt, but he concentrated on it. He noticed it was actually two spots, one on each side, above each of her nipples.