My friend Alicia and her husband Dom had left my apartment barely 10 minutes ago. Like every visit, this one was pleasant. We had chatted about a wide variety of different topics: movies and actors, incidents in our daily lives, gossip and even the ongoing Soccer tournament. Empty coffee cups still sat on the dining table along with the partial cake. The empty pot sat on the counter.
Sometimes people reveal secrets about themselves or their lifestyle. Alicia was not an exception.
She had mentioned that she and Dom enjoy being nude in their apartment. I did not reply.
What ever floats your boat, I said silently.
She added that her sister Jenny and brother-in-law Tim had convinced her and Dom to spend a week with them at Ponderosa Sun Club, a clothing prohibited resort.
How did she let herself get talked into that lifestyle?
The rooftop patio on the apartment complex in which I live is surrounded by windows above it as are most of rooftops in this city. It's furnished with tables and chairs, chaise lounges. I've sat up there on many a warm night listening through my noise canceling headphones to a book or jazz music on my i-pad.
I'm 30 and single. Twenty minutes a day on the elliptical at the gym helps keep the cellulite off my legs and the rolls off my tummy. I seldom eat junk food. At 5 7, my body is a slim vase-shape.
Guys on the beach, and probably a woman or two, have ogled my body. I don't mind them looking. I generally ignore them. On a deep subconscious level, however, being an exhibitionist appeals to me. All it would take to bring out that desire is a little prod. I suppose Alicia had the same subconscious desire at one time.
I have a huge crush on a colleague at ITW named Michael Fantini. That black-haired 5 8 hunk is the stuff of fantasy. I'd love to be naked on the rooftop with him. I just need to flirt.
Monday morning sees me at his desk just because I like chatting with the handsome young Italian of Neopolitan descent.
"Michael how was your weekend?"
"It was good Stephanie. How was yours?"
"I had fun. I took a long walk on Montrose Beach yesterday."
We chatted for a couple of minutes, just as we've done on many occasions during the past year. A light touch on his shoulder is intended to send a message, that message being 'ask me out on a date anytime.'
I headed to my desk in accounting and he to his.
That afternoon on my way out the door I stopped by his office again, this time to have him walk me to my car.
Friday I would leave work in a very good mood, thanks to him.
"I'll meet you at there at 6."
"Six is good," said Michael.
That morning I had donned a Tiel sleeveless sheath dress which I opted not to change and kept the pumps on my feet. I wanted to look nice for my date.
Pat's Pizza, the eatery he had suggested, is a place where we've each been a few times, just not together.
I found him sitting at an outdoor black metallic-lattice table and took the seat facing him. He was wearing a gray blazer with light pink shirt.
"I like just sitting outside on the rooftop patio looking at the stars."
I took the first bite of our shared pizza then added that "I'm usually wearing headphones."
"What are you usually listening to?"
"Jazz music."
Part of me thinks that telling him that like sitting naked is too personal for a first date. On the other hand, maybe I can lead with gossip about Alicia and Dom.
"My friends Alicia and Dom like going to nudist resorts. They go for a week every summer."
"A lot of people go to those. I'm just not one of them."
"I don't see anything wrong with it."
