(This is a true story, strange as it may seem.)
My workplace was my home in a large city, in a larger metro community. I did some consulting, some accounting and, in season, some income tax preparation work. Occasionally, I needed some help.
There are two kinds of people who have their own small business. There are filers and there are pilers. I'm a piler. Some pilers I know, are aware of where they have piled things. Ask for such and such, and they might say, "Oh, that's in that pile, about two thirds of the way down." The item will be just about there.
That's not me. I usually have know idea where anything is, in any pile. That's when I yell for help. I need someone to turn my piles into files.
In the city there is a small sexually oriented, tabloid type newspaper that has been around since the late fifties or early sixties. I won't name it but if you live there you will know what I'm talking about. It first appeared about the time topless dancing appeared on the scene. Those were funny days. Clubs would have dancers behind white screens, showing their silhouettes. They announced the first time a dancer said she would take off her top. The police just happened to be there and arrested her. Eventually, through many court dates and hearings, it was decided by legal authorities that topless, nude and even swingers clubs could exist, though severely limited in many ways. This was what the newspaper was originally about – promoting such activities.
At the time I had my home office, there was an extensive want ad section in the paper. I took advantage of the virtually uncensored format to advertise for "help wanted". I ran an ad that said, essentially, "Nudist man with home office needs a part time assistant to help with the business."
I had used the medium before when I had other business. I was accustomed to having a lot more calls that real interest. A lot of people just wanted to talk about it. Several callers were men, but the position was "filled" by then. Eventually it got down to two or three probable's. This story is about one of those.
A young woman called and asked about the job. Just about the first thing she said was, "So you're a nudist." I said that I was. She said, "Well, we weren't born with our clothes on were we?" I admitted that was true. She wanted to know if she come and interview. I agreed and gave her direction. Her conversation led me to conclude she also was a nudist. Wrong conclusion!
At the appointed time, she appeared at my door. Her name was Merry. I was naked as usual and answered the door that way. She was dressed in shorts and a pull-over top. She had on a bra since she was fairly large of breast and I don't know if she wore panties or not. I invited her in and we sat in the living room and chatted a bit. She was pleasingly plump with a nice complexion. I figured she would be enjoyable to have around, body-wise.
I said, "Come on and I will show you the office." I went and she followed. The office was in the back bedroom, where I had a couple of desks with computers and other office furnishings, a copy machine, shredder, files cabinets, and the usually trimmings. We were near the desk where the "employee's" computer was when I asked if she was a practicing nudist. She replied, "I never have."
Oops!
I wasn't sure what to make of this situation. I had in the past had a couple of female voyeurs that just wanted to see if I was really a nudist.
At one point as we were going out the office door, I kind of caught her between me and the door frame. I took hold of her exposed waistband and said, "Don't you want to take these clothes off? I don't intend to be an exhibitionist, I expect my helper to participate in the nudity."
She kind of recoiled and said, "If this is about sex, I'll want a lot of money."
I told her it wasn't about sex, but I was looking for someone who would also be naked. She replied, for the first time, "I think I could learn to work that way." That was the first time she said it but there were many more. She often didn't seem to know what to say, so she continually repeated herself.
We returned to the living room and sat across from each other. She had gotten a ride to my house and could not be picked up for some time. I had no way to get rid of her. So we talked – about the work.
She had a constant nervous smile on her face and kept repeating, "I think I could probably get used to working naked."
