This is my entry into the 2010 Nude Day Contest. It has been inspired by my fellow authors and faithful fans from Literotica. It has given me great pleasure to characterize and expand upon their different personalities. No harm has been intended, only fun. Fear not—no names have been mentioned, but if you do recognize yourself in the story and recognize that you are a part of my life, please feel free to leave a public comment or send me a personal message. I hope everyone enjoys it, and please don't forget to vote...
***** ***** *****
I just woke up from a very disturbed evening of sleep. There was tossing and turning, pillow punching and fluffing, pulling the covers up and kicking the covers off, touching my nipples and playing with my pussy, making myself cum and screaming out his name. It was a busy night to say the least. There have been a lot of things on my mind and the troubles of the day seem to spill over into the sleepless nights. I had spent most of last night dreaming.
I dreamed that I was in heaven for just one day, or one night, or maybe it was just a brief second or two. Sometime during the night, I had stopped breathing and died. Maybe it was a free trial day to see if I liked it. I did and I think everyone else is going to like it, too, when their time comes. Everything is perfect there—the weather, the music, the people, and oh, yes, the people are nude. All of them! What a glorious sight. All of them! I finally found my Nude Day and it was a night made in heaven.
The people in heaven were perfect in every way. There were no two people alike. The tall ones were perfectly tall and the short ones were perfectly short. There were no fat ones, but if there were, I'm sure they would have been perfectly fat, too, and named Peter. Saint Peter to be precise!
Nobody had a scar, a scratch, or a birthmark. Their skin was as soft as a baby's butt. I know this because I touched one of them. Actually, I pinched one of them.
"Hey there, cutie, what's your name?" I gave him a big toothy grin.
"Ouch, lady, that hurt!" He slapped my hand and pushed me away from his keyboard.
"Whatcha writing about?" I leaned my larger-than-large big breasts directly over his keyboard to take a peek at his screen. He tried to cop a feel of my erect nipple, but I'm quick and escaped his finger advances.
"Get out of my way. I'm just trying to write. That's all I want to do. I can't tell you my name. I have a million of them. I mean, I have a million dollars. I mean, I count dollars. I mean, I add numbers up. I'm always adding things; numbers, dollars, words, it doesn't matter. I love to count, but I love to write even more. Now, go away and leave me alone and take all of these other so-called angels with you. I'm allergic to feathers." He made a motion for me to leave, but his cock was fully exposed and fully erect. I tried to give him a blowjob, but he wanted nothing to do with it, sort of, maybe halfway through, he'd change his mind. I could tell that he liked the interaction of another human being, but I wasn't feeling so human; not quite floating and not quite on the ground, either. I left him after that with his fingers flying across the keyboard, his cute male dog companion sitting by his side. It reminded me of a Norman Rockwell painting even though it was an x-rated one.
The blankets got kicked off after that. My feet were hot, but I looked down at my toenails to see that they were painted blue. I knew they would be cool in a few minutes; each one of the digits neatly lined up from large to small, from left to right and back, again, from right to left, and I knew if I could make this seem even cooler, or prettier, all I would have to do is add a painted flower to the big toe, but I knew it had to come to an end. Period, the end. Like someone was chopping away at my thoughts. Cutting me short. Making everything disjointed. Foggy, almost like a cloud. I knew I'd be in trouble, so I drifted.
Being naked in heaven was a very different concept for me. I always thought people wore long flowing gowns, both the men and the women. I say I was drifting, but I wasn't actually walking, nor was I floating, or flying. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I had wings on my back. Probably not, I think I just swore. But, I knew I had boobs and big ones to boot. I kept staring down at them, first the left one and then the right one. When I picked up my head, there was a man gawking at me.
"Do you like what you see?" I took a good long look at him and wondered how long he had been working at that desk. He must have died of starvation for there was nothing left of him except bones, naked bones with a decent sized boner to match his decent sized metacarpals. I liked what I saw, or what was left of him. I raised one eyebrow and gave him a flirty smile.
"Are they real? I like the real ones," he reached for his hat as he began to stand; his bones creaking as he kissed me first on one cheek and then the other. That was followed by a very generous hug with my breasts squished firmly against his ribs.
"Are you hungry? You look like you could use something to eat. I can see right through you. Would you like to go somewhere for a bite to eat," I turned to the open air that surrounded me, but there was nothing there. There was a vast area of nothingness and I caught a chill and reached for the blanket, again. I snuggled with it up around my neck as if I were getting a hug from someone. Maybe it was this man, maybe it was someone else. He had a face, and then it just turned into a skull that began to speak, again.
"Oh, you are a sweet little thing. All I want to do is eat you, and lick you. I want to taste how good you are. Please, take a road trip to the north corner of heaven with me and I'll tell you a story of heavenly bodies, of Gods and Goddesses, of the stars and the moon." His hat was in his hand now waving for me to go with him and I followed where he lead me.
We came upon a bar for our first stop on the road trip. There was a cowboy standing there pouring something into his water. It looked like oil, but he seemed to be having a lot of trouble with it. Everyone in the bar was nude and I could tell this cowboy was used to being nude because he had no tan lines on him. He must be from a place where everything is big judging by his oversized dick that had room for a lone star tattoo on it.
"Good morning, Ma'am. The coffee is ready over there in my trailer." He tipped his Stetson to me and went right back to fiddling with that oil can, again. I could see that he had that erection for quite some time. It was tan from top to bottom and as I walked away, I swear he had oil dripping from that, too, as if it were his whole life and it ran through his veins.
My eyes were next fixed on the young barmaid. She was a blonde, a natural blonde, as I glanced down at her neatly trimmed pussy. But the pour young girl had only one perfect bodacious breast centered in the middle of her chest. She carried a tray full of margaritas in one hand while she swilled down one with her other hand. When she arrived at the table of gentlemen, they all seemed to take a turn to drink from her one perfect nipple as if they were seated at the table of milk and honey. She circled the table, stopping at each one to allow them to suckle as they fed her tidbits of educational propaganda on how to write the perfect paper, for the perfect professor, and for the perfect degree.
It's a large round table with a glass top, perfect for viewing these naked men. My eyes took in their broad hairy chests and lowered toward what was exposed beneath the tabletop and ready for their wench who would deliver their libations of choice. The big hairy one directly across from me growled out his order first.
"Honey, bring me a glass of California Zin, then come sit beside me over here where it's warm and cozy." He handed her an orchid and patted his chest like he was a cuddly teddy bear and the wench accepted the flower and gave him a polite little curtsey. I remember rolling over and punching the pillow a few times to get it just right—all fluffy and soft.
The sweet little guy sitting next to him ordered next. He seemed to be prim and proper and very neat and orderly about his manner. He straightened his napkin and fidgeted with his utensils almost like he had written the directions for the Emily Post manual on proper table etiquette. I could here him mumble to himself.
"Place the fork parallel, one inch to the left of the dinner plate and two inches from the edge of the table. The knife should be to the right of the same dinner plate with the sharp edge pointed toward the right." He was the only one who had his cock standing straight up as if it were a joy stick to a flight simulator. Oh, I wanted to take him for a ride up and down the block and across the big pond.
"Bring me a plum brandy! Then, I'm off to bed to get some decent sleep." I rolled over onto my back and I could feel his gentle hands caress my naked breasts as I drifted deeper into this dream.
There was a much younger man beside him in the circle of bar goers. He was with people and yet he seemed to be alone. There was a long thin piece of black fabric in front of him on the table. He had stretched it out straight, then, turned the ends to themselves, creating a circle. A small Hot Wheel toy car set on top of the cloth road he had created and in the center of the circle was a pile of chips—potato chips. He pushed the car around on the makeshift track as he shuffled the chips, first in his fingers, then into his mouth, hogging them from the other guests.
"I have to pass on this one. I don't know how to drink. I'm just here to meet women. Send me over Red Rover, the one with the bottle-dyed red hair and the lace covered cheeks," he gave the table a karate chop and I thought he was going to break the thick glass that acted as a giant magnifier for all who sat at it.
The last gentleman was tall and thin and spoke with a brogue. I was attracted to him immediately. I'm a sucker for a smooth talking handsome guy with an ample package waiting for me every night.
"Ahh, nothing for me tonight, Wenchie. Me bones are a achin, dun't ye know. Me pipe is all I'll be a needin." I took a couple of deep breaths with him and my sleep became serene and tranquil, once again. A ring of smoke rose and circled above his head as if it were a halo, or was it a real halo? I couldn't tell from the distance between us.
My northern guide took me by the hand and we continued on, not quite walking and not quite floating, but gliding along. Two women stood together. They seemed to complement one another with the objects they held in their hands, and yet, they didn't seem to be together. One had a handful of pink carnations. She was the only one in my dream who wasn't completely naked and had a small veil covering her face. Maybe she was modest, or maybe she was just showing off a new pair of black stilettos. It didn't matter because she looked hot in them and I couldn't see any Nude Day cops in sight anywhere. To the right of the carnation lady was a dark-haired beauty with a vase in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. A cold draft swept through the room and I reached for the sheet to cover my nakedness. I wondered if I had to shield my body from these two women. I wondered if they were a couple. I pulled the blanket up over top of the sheet after that. I wondered if they would find me hot. I wondered if they would want to make love to me. I kicked everything off and rolled to my side into a fetal position.
The noise kept getting louder and louder and it wouldn't stop. It got closer and closer until I sat straight up in bed and screamed. I couldn't take it any more.
"Shut the damn lawnmower off! It's the middle of the night. What the hell is wrong with you?" Oops. I've sworn in heaven again. I know they aren't going to let me stay here. I reached over to grab the shift on that riding lawnmower to shut it down.
"Hey, that's not a stick shift, Babs, but I like how you handle it! Wanna take it for a ride inside my trailer over there to finish up your dream? I can show you some of my etchings." The man on the rider was as happy as a lark.
My guide pulled me away from his stick shift and took me under his wing. He had nice wings, soft with lots of pure white feathers. I still couldn't tell if I had any wings or not. Something kept poking me in the back every time I rolled over. I reached for what was bothering me, but it was just an empty martini glass and I tossed it to the floor. Clink! It landed on the stilettos that I stepped out of a few hours before. I'm only half asleep and half awake.
