Sitting under the awning next to her truck, Vanille looked down the street and decided that the fair was beginning to wind down. She breathed a sigh of relief both because the long day was over, and because she was going to turn a decent profit from working the small town street fair. Considering her name, she might very well have been destined to sell homemade ice cream from the back of a truck, but it certainly hadn't been her plan.
A victim of the economic downturn, she was one of many cubicle dwellers suddenly out of a job. Unemployment wasn't enough to pay the bills, and most of the available jobs weren't much better. At twenty-eight, she was facing a dire future.
That's when the idea came to her.
Her father had used the truck to dish out ice cream at family reunions and church socials, but Vanille had bigger plans. Working small events like the street fair meant a lot of work to make a few dollars, but it also meant that she could stay off the radar of the government, using the money to supplement her unemployment.
Now, she at least had enough money to pay the bills, if not live comfortably.
The crowd continued to thin, and she decided to start packing up. Smoothing back her red locks, she stood up and went to work. It took a while to put everything away and take down the awning, and she wanted to be ready to roll for home once the last potential customers vanished from the street.
Naturally, someone had to break her lucky streak. One of the last people to walk up finally uttered the phrase she'd successfully avoided all day, and had come to despise.
We all scream for ice cream.
Somehow, she smiled and let out a convincing laugh, even though all she wanted to do was scream. It had been cute the first couple of times, but it was really beginning to wear on her.
Just as she was about to close the door of the truck and call it a day, someone came walking her way. Not one to let even a single dollar escape, she put on a smile when the man approached and said, "Can I help you?"
"I might be able to help you, actually." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a flyer. "We're looking for vendors to work an event, if you're interested."
"Always," Vanille said as she took the flyer and squinted at it in the dim light.
"The event is in two weeks, so I'll need you to give me a call soon."
She waved the flyer and said, "I'll look it over and let you know tomorrow."
"Looking forward to your call."
It was only after he walked away that she realized he hadn't even offered a name. Assuming it was on the flyer, she shrugged, and then yawned. Her bed was calling — and calling loudly. Vanille climbed in the cab, fired up the truck, and headed for home.
The next morning began the closest thing Vanille had to a day off. All that meant was that she was on the phone and the internet all day, trying to set up another event, rather than actually working one. She had to get far enough ahead during the summer season in order to make it through the winter and start the process all over again next year.
Sipping her second cup of coffee, she sat down at her computer, and then remembered the flyer. She pulled it out of her purse and took a look to see if it might be worth calling back about.
Her eyes went wide as she read the flyer. From what she was reading, there were no fees of any kind. Utilities were provided free of charge. A chit system meant that she wouldn't even have to actually handle any money. It was everything she usually had to turn on the charm to get, provided up front. If the estimated attendance for the three day event was accurate, she stood to make some serious money.
Too good to be true, she thought, but she picked up the phone anyway.
The voice that answered sounded like the same man who had handed her the flyer, and identified himself by the name on the flyer — Matthew Gerrin. After explaining who she was, she launched into the questions.
"Yes, that's exactly right," he said in the end, confirming everything in the flyer. "So, you're thinking, what's the catch?"
"The thought had crossed my mind."
Matt laughed. "Well, there is one, but I doubt it's anything you would have expected. The event we're hosting is a Nude Day gathering of several nudists groups. It starts on Nude Day and runs through Saturday. All of your customers are going to be naked for the three days of the event."
"That is a bit of a catch," Vanille said and chuckled. "I think it's something I can deal with though."
"Good to hear. Unfortunately, that's not the only stipulation. In order for our visitors to feel comfortable, we require our vendors to be nude as well."
Vanille's mouth dropped open and she couldn't find any words to respond to that.
He continued, "Keep in mind that there are passes to enter the property, and only those who have been invited will be allowed in. Once inside, no clothing is allowed beyond the parking area. Everyone who will be there is a nudist."
"I... I don't know."
"I know it's a shock, and I certainly don't expect an immediate answer. Take some time to think it over. As long as you can confirm by next weekend, that's fine. We'd really love to have you. I've been hunting for an ice cream vendor for the last two years, and having homemade ice cream is just a bonus."
Surprise warred with the potential profit in her head, but neither was gaining any ground. "I'm definitely going to have to think about it."
"Perfectly fine. I'll be hoping to hear back from you."
Vanille hung up the phone, her lips pursed and brow knitting. After a minute or so, she stood up and walked away from the computer. Even though she hadn't done anything like it in several years, it wasn't as if public nudity was entirely new to her. During college, she'd gone through a phase of exhibitionism, and even ended up in two Girls Gone Wild style videos.
That was college, though, and she was pushing thirty.
A tug of her shirt tail revealed her tummy. It certainly wasn't as flat as it had been when she was in college, but not too bad. A few steps brought her to the bathroom, and she took a look in the mirror while pulling her shirt higher. Gravity wasn't taking too much of a toll on her breasts, which was a miracle considering how blessed she was up top. She turned in profile and let out a noncommital hmm.
Pulling her top back down, she turned her back to the mirror and dropped her shorts. She had to admit that her butt still looked pretty good. A shake showed a bit more jiggle than she might have liked, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. When she turned around, the first real problem cropped up — or rather, needed cropping.
The constant struggle to keep income flowing meant that she didn't have a whole lot of spare time, and one thing that had fallen to the wayside was trimming the nest of red curls between her legs. It wasn't as if anyone was going to see that anyway, as sex was something else that had dropped off the radar. She could barely see her hood ring through the bramble patch, let alone anything else.
Trimming, shaving, and some crunches were in order, but altogether, she wasn't falling apart too badly. A little of the show-off within her crept to the surface once more, and she cocked her hips, affecting a coquettish grin. The image smiling back at her caused her to laugh, and she pulled her shorts back up before walking away.
The money was too good to pass up. Barely ten minutes after hanging up the phone, she picked it up again to confirm that she was on board for the event.
Vanille pulled up behind a car waiting at the gate, her stomach full of butterflies. She'd been fine right up until turning onto the last gravel road, but now she felt as nervous as a virgin on prom night. The car ahead went through, and it was her turn. Here goes nothing.
The man in the booth — who was fully clothed — smiled when she pulled up. "I would guess that you're Vanille Melhart?"
She nodded. "That's me."
"Give me a second to give Matthew a call. He'll get you set up and going."
The butterflies went into a positive frenzy while the gatekeeper talked on his cell. Vanille swallowed hard when he stepped out and lifted the gate.
"You'll see the parking area just around that curve ahead. Matthew has his tent set up there, and he's waiting for you."
She didn't have long to wait after turning the corner before the reality of what she was doing hit her. The first thing she saw besides the many cars parked on the gravel lot was a nude, middle-aged couple walking away from their car, farther into the wooded area. A second later, Matthew stepped out of his tent.
He looked completely at ease as he walked toward her truck, a cock of average length swinging with his steps. The only thing he wore was a necklace of colored beads, and he was carrying a similar one.
"Last chance to back out," he said, and then laughed. "If you think you're still up for it, you can go ahead and get undressed, and I'll lead you to where you can set up."
She'd come this far, and the potential to make enough money to conscience taking a real day off pushed her over the edge. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
His smile widened, and he held up the necklace. "Everything is priced on even half dollars or dollars. The white are fifty cents, red are a dollar, blue are five, and purple is ten. We can just take yours out when we pay you each day for how many you've collected. Wallets aren't exactly convenient, considering the dress code."
Her face a little red, Vanille accepted the necklace and said, "I guess not." She put the truck in park, steeled her nerves, and opened the door.
"There are some screens set up over there. Everybody here is a nudist, but that doesn't mean that they all like being watched while they undress. It's a little difficult to understand for someone on the outside, I'm sure."
"I'll be here waiting."
Thinking that the butterflies in her stomach were going to cause her to take flight with their flapping, Vanille walked over to the screens. There were benches set up within each section, in order to sit down while removing pants, she assumed. She chose one that was open, and pulled the curtain closed.
Thinking it best to treat the whole thing like cold water, taking the shock all at once, she started pulling off clothing, trying not to think about it. Once nude, she picked up her clothes and looked at the closed curtain. Do or die time.
With a tremendous surge of willpower, she pulled back the curtain and strode out into the sun in her birthday suit. A man passing by nodded to her, but otherwise acted as if absolutely nothing was unusual. Matthew was much the same, and though the experience was somewhat disconcerting, it was also comforting. Nobody was leering at her, and everyone was just as naked.
Matthew pointed off to a gravel road leading into the trees. "That's the service road. Follow me, and I'll show you where to set up." He then started walking.
Vanille climbed into the truck, the sensation of her bare bottom on the vinyl seats novel, to say the least. She tossed her clothing in the passenger seat and put the truck in gear. The journey through the trees didn't take long, even following Matthew as he walked, but there was more than enough foliage to shield what lay beyond from the parking area. Once in the sunlight once more, she couldn't help a gasp.
A large clearing in the trees encircled a manicured lawn dotted with fruit trees and evergreens. A sparkling lake lay beyond, sporting a wide strip of beach. Everywhere she looked, there were naked people. Some were in the open showers, chatting as the cool water washed over them. The beach was well populated with people sunning themselves, while others swam or paddled in canoes.
Vanille got over her shock at the beauty of the place and followed Matthew's waved instructions to pull up on a gravel pad with electrical and water hookups. She stopped, looking in the mirror to make sure the truck was lined up properly, and then shut the engine down.
"What do you think?" Matthew asked as he walked up next to the window.
"Wow. It's beautiful."
"Thanks. It's taken a lot of years and a lot of money, but we're rather proud of the place. I'll leave you to open up for business. I'm sure you'll be busy as soon as you hang your shingle, and it will only pick up once word of mouth gets around."
Vanille climbed down out of the truck, and almost immediately saw the door of the trailer next to her open. A blonde woman in a long apron stepped out and waved. She then pulled off the apron, revealing that she was nude beneath.
"Elephant ears. Hot grease and naked skin don't go well together. Looks like we're neighbors."
Vanille chuckled, both at the woman's words and the absurdity of chatting while stark naked. "Looks like it."
"What a beautiful name. First time?"
"Does it show?"
"A little. I actually got used to it before the first day was over a couple of years ago. The compliments are a little shocking at first, but they're about the same as someone complimenting your outfit, and it doesn't seem as strange after a while. Just relax, and I think you'll find out it's actually sort of fun."
"So, you're not a nudist?"
"I wasn't when I started, but after the first year, I'm trending that way. It's freeing. Where else can a forty-five-year-old woman be naked and not have people running for the hills?" She held out her hands to the side, framing a body holding up well for her age.
"How's the business?" Vanille asked as she walked to the back of the truck to open the doors. Keeping her mind focused on work helped to dull the strangeness of what she was doing.
"Wonderful. I guess not having to buy clothes leaves you with a lot of spare money. I make out better here in three days than I do at two or three county fairs. Not as much competition for one thing, and you have a semi-captive audience."
"That sounds promising," Vanille remarked with genuine enthusiasm.
"My next batch should be ready for turning, so I'll leave you to get set up. If you need anything, I'm right next door."
Vanille returned her wave, and then concentrated on the task of setting up. The first customers arrived before she was completely ready, beginning a very busy day.
"Doesn't she have the most perfect breasts, Harold? And that belly ring is simply darling."
"Mmm hmm," the woman's pudgy husband responded, and then pointed at his bowl with the spoon. "This is really good."
"Men. I swear," the woman said, and then rolled her eyes as she deposited her beads in the pleasantly full container and led her husband back to the beach to watch the sunset.
Vanille was amazed at how relaxed she was with people not only seeing her naked, but actually commenting on everything from her complexion to her hood ring. If anything, she was finding it exciting. Nudity might not be about sex to her customers, but she was having a little difficulty divorcing the two in her own mind.
Not everyone inspired that reaction, but there were certainly a handful of men whom she had to take care not to stare at for long. With such a wide variety on open display, finding something that appealed to her was almost a certainty.
The first time her nipples had stiffened upon noticing a well-endowed man, she'd discovered just how difficult it was to hide while nude.
With the sun setting, many people were congregating around the tents that had sprung up near the trees all day long. The stream of customers was trickling to a stop, but not before giving Vanille a handsome profit for the day. If the next two days went as well, she might very well be able to take more than one day off, or even buy something nice for herself for once.
"Looks like you had a good day," Karen remarked as she walked over from her trailer, pointing at the plastic jar full of beads.
"Well worth the trip."
"And no tan lines."
Vanille laughed, having grown fond of the older woman during chats between swarms of customers. "True."
"So, are you staying, or leaving and coming back in the morning?"
She still hadn't made up her mind upon arriving here, but the difficulty of packing up and the distance home had made the decision during the day. "Staying. I've got a tent in the truck."
"I'm always up early. I could wake you up, so you can have a shower."
"I've got some wine, too. Interested?"
Karen grinned. "I'll pull out some chairs and the citronella candles." She then nodded toward the lake and twitched her eyebrows. "Looks like you're not quite done for the day."
Oh boy, Vanille thought. The two blond young men had visited her table at least five times during the day, far more than anyone else. They were in the minority, as she guessed that most everyone else was thirty or over. The pair walking up were in their early twenties at the most. Muscular bodies and ample endowments meant that she was in for another hard fought battle to hide the powerful reaction they inspired in her.
"I think we're addicted," the first of the two, who had identified himself as Greg, said as he unhooked the clasp of his necklace to retrieve beads.
"Good for me," Vanille bantered, fighting the urge to look down at what was swinging between his legs while she dipped into the freezer to serve them.
"Never had anything like it," the other, named Brian, added.
"It's just homemade ice cream," she protested.
"Probably going to go broke and get fat on it," Brian said, as the pair deposited their beads.
Even though she knew that she shouldn't, Vanille couldn't help smiling and flirting a little. She leaned over and put her hands on the table, realizing only at the last second how much it was going to make her breasts sway and jiggle. "Should I cut you off?"
"No way," Greg said, and then laughed as the pair turned to walk into the deepening darkness.
Vanille couldn't hold back a quiet growl of arousal at the sight of two such perfect butts flexing.
Having not even noticed Karen walking up, Vanille started and covered her eyes with her hand in embarrassment.
Karen chuckled. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's all about admiring the beauty of the human body, and — mmm — that's certainly beautiful."
"I know. Let's put up our tents and have some wine."
Matthew arrived to exchange beads for cash shortly after the two women sat down to relax, further enhancing Vanille's good mood. Knowing what the beads represented was one thing. Having the money inside the fire safe in the truck was another.
On top of everything, not a single person had uttered her favorite phrase.
The two women sat chatting, admiring a beautiful sunset. The wine flowed freely, and they continued to talk into the night, lit by the glow of flickering citronella candles to help ward off mosquitoes.
It was quiet at first, and almost unnoticeable. The sound intruded in the conversation only for moments, impossible to decipher, and always coming from different quarters. It nagged at the edge of Vanille's consciousness, until one cry of higher volume finally registered.
When her eyes widened upon realizing that what she'd been hearing were sounds of passion, Karen noticed and laughed.
"Guess you finally heard, huh?"
"Well, yes," Vanille answered in a quiet voice. "I thought it wasn't about sex?"
"It isn't, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. I suppose you can only be naked all the time for so long without things coming up." She lifted a finger, miming an erect penis. "There's sort of an unwritten rule that nothing happens while the sun is shining, or out in the open. Once the sun's down and everyone's in their tents..."