(This is the eighth chapter of the Saturday Night School series, by Jessica Tang-Von Harper.)
Afterwards, they fled into the gardens.
They raced across the meadow on bare feet, hand in hand, first running under the night sky but swiftly cutting to the left and seeking refuge in the shadows of the trees. In the course of their love-making, Michelle had pulled off Charlie's clothes, and now he walked beside her just as naked as she was, his clothes bundled in the crook of his arm like a football. He peeked at her, and reflected that, for once, he was actually more naked than she was. She, at least, still wore her stockings.
The night air felt cool on his skin. Charlie looked up at the tree branches that stretched above his head, picking out the occasional glint of a star through the ceiling of leaves. He felt a wary vigilance, walking through the garden with no clothes on, concerned that at any moment they would turn the corner and find someone waiting to catch them. Yet he also thought he understood something of the thrill Michelle felt when she walked outside naked.
His gaze lingered on her body, her skin speckled with the moonlight that slipped through the tree cover. He recalled how she had undressed outside in the parking lot, passing him her garments one by one, and afterwards he had locked the stack of clothing in the trunk of his car. Since that point, she had been nude, without any means of getting dressed again, completely trusting in Charlie to return her clothing to her at some undefined point in the future.
She was nude when they walked into Greenholt Gardens. She was nude when she met Ronni's brother Nick for the first time. She was nude while Nick gave them a tour of the gardens, and when Ronni had to leave and asked Charlie to walk her back to her car, Michelle remained behind, chatting with Nick, still nude.
Michelle appeared very comfortable being naked, even while the rest of them wore clothes, but that didn't mean she was unaffected by the experience. Charlie learned just how much it had affected her when he returned from saying goodbye to Ronni and found Michelle spinning in place in the meadow. Michelle had flung herself at him, greedy with desire, and he'd been quickly divested of his own clothing. He and Michelle had made love on a picnic bench just outside the snack bar, in full view of one of the security cameras.
Charlie pointed out that Nick could be watching them on the security camera, and Michelle was not only aware of the possibility, she was excited by it. She wanted to put on a show for Nick, to show him what she looked like with Charlie's cock inside her. She and Charlie had sex in several positions, and Charlie could tell that Michelle was always aware of that watching camera and the view she offered it.
Until they both climaxed. Michelle tried not to cry out when she came, but she couldn't stop herself completely, and her faint shrieks mingled with the distant calls of night birds. Charlie pulled free and painted a streak of cum along the top of her left stocking. They held each other, sweating and breathing hard, and Charlie could tell the spell was broken. Instead of putting on a show for the camera, now Michelle wanted to flee from it. So Charlie quickly gathered his clothes and they ran for the darkness. They only left behind their shoes, his sneakers and Michelle's heels, which still sat side by side under the concrete table.
They found the pathway known as the Brook Path, which followed the trickling brook that fed the garden's lily pond. The path led uphill, a dark and winding trail with occasional stone steps that took them higher and higher. To their left, they could see the shadowy line of the brook, and could hear the trickle of the water. To their right, the trees and ferns of the Tropical Garden grew thick and high, leaning over them. Charlie could hear small creatures hiding in the darkness, scurrying through the carpet of loose leaves, rustling the low branches.
Michelle gazed into the darkness. "It's a little scary, isn't it?" she remarked.
"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "But I don't think we'll get in too much trouble if we get caught. It'll be really embarrassing, definitely, but I'm sure we're not the first couple to sneak into the garden looking to be alone."
"I'm not so worried about getting caught," Michelle said. "I'm more worried about getting eaten by a bear. Or murdered by a serial killer with an axe."
Charlie tried to smile, but as he looked out at the darkness of the garden, it was impossible to completely dismiss those possibilities. "It's kind of a horror movie trope, right? The teenagers have sex, and then the killer gets them... like punishing them for being immoral..."
"Then we're in big trouble," Michelle said gravely. "We've been so immoral tonight."
Charlie chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist. He pulled her close, enjoying the feel of her skin. "If an axe murderer gets me," he said, "my last words will be, 'Completely worth it!'"
She laughed. "That's what your last words will be?" She stretched up to kiss him. Down below, he felt her fingers circling his cock, squeezing it gently. Her breasts gently bumped against his chest. She murmured, "I think my last words will be, 'Help! An axe murderer!'"
"Don't worry," he told her. "I'll make sure it takes him a long time to kill me, so you have time to escape."
"So sweet!" Michelle smiled and kissed him again. Her hand continued to casually clutch his penis, and he could feel it hardening between her fingers. She tugged on it gently for a moment, and when she let go, Charlie could feel his cock pointing at a higher angle than before.
Now if they got caught, he had the added shock bonus of a visible erection.
They reached an intersection where the Brook Path crossed a wider grassy trail. The grassy trail led to a wooden bridge on their right, traversing the brook. A light pole stood next to the bridge, bathing the intersection in a white glow. A wood bench painted dark brown sat under the light pole.
Michelle walked directly towards the far-left corner of the intersection, and at first Charlie couldn't figure out why. She bent over and manipulated some long metal thing that jutted out of the ground, and Charlie realized that it was a faucet just before water sprayed out of the spout onto the grass. Michelle turned the water off and looked up at him. "I'm going to clean off," she said.
"Okay."
Michelle leaned over and caught the top of one of her stockings. She slowly worked it down her leg and finally tugged it off her foot. "Will you keep track of these for me?" She held the rolled-up stocking out towards Charlie. "Do you have someplace you can keep them?"
"Sure." Charlie plucked the stocking out of her hand and stuck it into the front pocket of his jeans. He did the same thing with her other stocking.
Michelle turned on the water and cupped her hands underneath the spray. "It's cold!" she moaned. Nevertheless, she squatted next to the faucet and splashed water onto her legs, cleaning off the sticky evidence of their immorality.
Charlie looked around the dark garden, feeling vulnerable in his state of nakedness. "Maybe I should put my clothes on..."
"Not yet," Michelle said.
"No?"
"Go sit on that bench. I'll join you in a second."
Charlie thought about mentioning that the bench was positioned right under the light, and he would be clearly visible sitting there. But of course, Michelle already knew that, and didn't care. He walked over and sat down on the bench, placing his bundle of clothes next to him.
Naked in Greenholt Gardens. Charlie looked around, checking carefully to make sure no one was watching them. He didn't see anyone, but couldn't help feeling like he was on display. Maybe someone lurked in the shadows, watching them. The white light from the bulb overhead took away his night vision, and prevented him from penetrating the darkness off the trail.
Michelle turned off the faucet and walked towards him, her body wet and gleaming in the glow of the overhead light. Charlie watched her careful, swaying walk; the contrast of her shining body against the background of dark foliage gave her approach a dreamlike quality. Perhaps that was all this was. Just a dream, and he would wake up any minute to find the whole night had been conjured up by his overactive imagination.
