This is a celebration of July 14, not a sex-filled tome. It's a (mostly) true account of our fun with new neighbors. Enjoy and then go make your own National Nude Day memories.
Cheers
Zoo
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"Really?"
"Yep."
Over a few beers one Friday afternoon, my neighbor, Louis, and I discovered a very interesting coincidence.
"So, she doesn't know you saw her?" We ask each other.
Turns out we had both seen the other's wives topless, the only difference being his wife had no intention of exposing herself to anyone. While Bonnie wouldn't have cared, his wife Dianne definitely did. That she was topless in the first place was a huge turnon for him, but Dianne had no idea anyone else saw her.
That said, Louis wanted to see his wife topless on a public beach. From what he told me, he had been working on her for some time in the hope to get her comfortable and confident enough to do it. Not that he was jealous of me, but he definitely admired Bonnie's free spirit as he watched her through the slat in the fence dividing our backyards.
"What about completely naked?" I ask.
"Even better."
Thus, our plan was hatched.
"Good morning"
After several years of marriage, these words are among those I cherish most hearing every single day. Sure, I had to fight through a fear to commit to this woman and my own failings seemed to doom us. And yet, here we are, two humans who know everything about each other. We know how to love, how to push buttons to enrage, how to honor and serve, and especially how to navigate life together. While we are definitely not perfect, we work hard each day to be a good couple.
"Good morning, love."
It's such a simple statement. I suppose I could be more eloquent. I prefer simplicity, especially early in the day since I always have the rest of the day to honor such a magnificent woman. Bonnie and I have had some wonderful adventures together, and this summer is proving to be no exception. This week, in the middle of July, we are actually at home as we are between a couple of small trips within the States. We hadn't planned on being home, but we suddenly found ourselves unable to reserve a beach side condo in South Padre, probably due to the lifing of pandemic restrictions in Texas.
That said, Bonnie definitely spoiled me last year, but somehow upped the ante this year.
"Okay, lover. What's on the agenda? It sure is early." Bonnie always was able to immediately wake up. Morning people, sheesh.
"Well, I have three activities planned, maybe a fourth time permitting."
Looking at the calendar last month, I realized we would be able to avoid big crowds and thought of some really unheard of places for us to go. Basically,
the slate was clean, and Bonnie volunteered to provide the entertainment for however I decided to paint the canvas. Therefore, on today, July 14th, she and I decided to create some National Nude Day memories.
"What should I bring?"
"Wear clothes for golf, and bring a suit for kayaking. Whatever you bring, you should be prepared to lose at any time along the way." I tell her.
"Oh goody."
With the earliest tee time I could find, we have to leave the house before the sun is up. Getting into town should be easy, and the golf course is a privately owned hotel course. The goal is simple: play some golf well enough to get my caddie naked.
As the sun makes its first appearance, we find ourselves on the first golf cart of the day. Bonnie will drive while I play. She's not a golfer, but loves to caddie and drive the cart.
"Okay, so I get to predict how well you'll play a hole?" She asks as we approach the first tee.
"Yes. If I beat it, I get to take an item of clothing off you. If you guess my score correctly, you don't lose an item, and if I go over your prediction, even by just one shot, you get one piece of clothing back." I explain. Bonnie is determing MY par for each hole.
"Nice. This first hole is a par 4, 389 yards. I think you'll score a 6."
"That's a safe bet. It's reachable, at least for me."
Trying hard not to count my chickens too soon, I take a quick look at Bonnie. She is wearing a visor which hold her sunglasses. Her hair is pulled back, and held in place by a hair band. She is wearing earrings from her favorite designer. Under her light sweater which is currently helping her fend off the cool early morning air, I can see a collared pink golf shirt on top of a bra. Bonnie is also wearing a short skirt which shows off a lot of leg as she sits in the driver's seat. My best guess is she wearing a favorite thong under the skirt. Bravely, she did not wear sweat pants, and her feet are kept warm by socks inside her shoes. Aside from a watch on her wrist, I don't see much else to take off her body.
With 18 holes to get approximately 15 pieces of clothing or jewelry off her, I have my work cut out. My first tee shot doesn't bode well for my chances as I slice it. We discover my ball in a very playable position, and I'm able to hit it effectively enough to get to a nice approach. But, I top the approach shot and it bounces harmlessly to the front edge of the green. Surveying the green, I see it's quite wet. So, I decide to putt from the fringe and leave it just short of the pin. Sinking the putt for the 5, I giddily walk back to Bonnie.
"Let's start with the right earring."
"Interesting. Here you go." Bonnie hands me the earring.
"By the way, if I get a hole-in-one, you have to completely strip and go get the ball."
"Ha! Nice one. Next hole is Par 5, 515 yards. I think you'll shoot an 8." Bonnie smiles at me.
"8! You may as well take off that bra now." I reply as Bonnie drives us over to the tee box.
"Well crap!" Bonnie exclaims as I smash the ball off the tee and straight down the fairway.
I chose this playing time carefully so there wouldn't be too many players in sight. As the grass, still wet from the morning dew, catches and holds my ball, I realize this hole is playing much longer that its 515 yards. At least it is until I reach the green with my third shot. My approach shot hits perfectly, then rolls imperfectly right past the green and down the side of the hill surrounding it. This course is known for its greens which drain very efficiently so now I have to watch my ballspeed. No matter, I'm happy to card a 7 and watch Bonnie dutifully remove her bra from under her shirt.
Bonnie guesses the next few holes perfectly, and loses nothing. I have to scramble on the fifth just to avoid having her put anything back on. As we get to 6, I feel I have a chance to finally get some skin exposed here and on the seventh. Keeping my mouth shut, I try to look dejected as Bonnie predicts a 6 on 6. It's
a short par 4 either she was hoping for a 5, or doesn't think I can get it. This is actually one of my favorite holes on the course, and I earn an honest par.
"Lose the sweatshirt."
Bonnie obliges me, and her nipples clearly show through her shirt. As I tee up on 7, the sun shines from behind her and the silhouette of her tits is magical. I have to look away for a moment to concentrate on this par 3. It's a short shot, and Bonnie predicts a 3. After I loft the ball high, we follow the trajectory toward the pin. Never before have I hit such a sweet shot. The grass catches the ball perfectly, allows one bounce, and holds it just feet from the pin.
"Damn, Zoo. That was really nice."
"Looks like I have a decision to make." I say, looking at Bonnie.
Instead of staying in the cart this time, Bonnie gets out and walks to the flagstick. As I line up my short putt, she lifts her shirt.
"Damn, Bonnie. Those are really nice." I say, stopping to admire her tits.
"Enjoy."
As I tap the ball to start its journey to the bottom of the cup, Bonnie lifts up the flag. As the trail looks true, she drops the stick and removes her shirt in one smooth movement. Now topless, she picks the ball out of the cup and tosses it to me.
"Nice shot." Bonnie tells me as she replaces the flagstick.
"I was inspired." Looking around, we are still alone. The sound of mowers in the distance indicate we are behind them as they move from hole to hole.
"Looks like I underestimated your skills. Let's see what's up with 8."
In the cart, Bonnie drives us slowly over to the number 8 tee box. As I grab my club of choice, a hybrid 3 for this par 4, she sits still without even trying to cover up her breasts. Standing outside the cart to her left, I'm able to caress her tits as she sums up the possible score.
"I'll have to predict a 5. You seem to be on a roll."
While driver would have been perfectly acceptable here, I love this hybrid club and it rewards me with a nice, long drive to within thirty yards of the green. Bonnie drives me up the middle of the fairway and drops me off at the ball. With my wedge and putter in hand, I wonder what she's thinking as she drives back to the cart path and parks where I can see her sitting in full sunlight. My approach is easy to navigate, and I land the ball right at the front of the green and watch it roll on top of the freshly manicured grass.
I will never forget this hole as I putt for a birdie. I stop to admire the line of the putt after the ball hits the bottom of the cup. I'm also very much frozen by the sight of Bonnie dropping her skirt to the ground and calmly walking out to the hole to retrieve my ball. Walking back to the cart, Bonnie calmly tosses the ball a few times, catching it each time. In just a thong, she appears completely naked with the exception of a string around her waist.
Suddenly, Bonnie jumps into the cart and bends over in her seat. The reason is quickly apparent as a couple of guys on mowers come around the path leading to
9. I catch up to her quickly and stand close to her to try to shield her from their view.
"Hey." I hear from behind me.
"Morning." I reply, turning only my head to look at them.
"We've had a water line break on the back nine. You'll want to stop here." The guy on the closest mower explains.
"Well darn."
"Yep. You can go get a full refund, or come back later for a full round. Just bring your receipt to the office."
"Thanks, guys." Bonnie says, almost yelling, while bending her body to look around me.
My guess is they probably saw at least her tits, but both mowers sped off to the clubhouse with no further conversation. Water on the course is undoubtedly more important than a naked woman.
"Where are you going?" I ask Bonnie after getting back in the cart. She drives us toward the 9 tee.
