The Parade 1

I had just turned 34 a week earlier on a sunny day in May. A week later the "exhibitionist bug" left me with the obsessive desire to go about outside fully nude.

I'm brunette with a plain face and a short (but not boyish) hair style. One just does not find too many lesbians with long hair and makeup. We don't like that stuff. It's artificial beauty. Anyway, that's enough about me.

My girlfriend and I were sitting on the back porch of our vacation rental home one day not too long ago. She mentioned the up-coming event.

"The parade's gonna be good this year. I saw some of the old cars that will be in it."

"You like 1920's cars."

"They're cool," she replied.

"Have you ever noticed how many guys wear speedos?"

"I don't know. I don't pay attention to the guys."

I chuckled then replied, "I forgot, you're a lesbian."

She chuckled and retorted, "what gave it away?"

"You pay too much attention to the women."

"Stephanie, I don't want them. I'm in love with you."

Danielle and I had met almost a year ago to the day. Both of us had been spectators at the pride parade in this same small resort town.

"You wore a cami top and denim shorts that day."

"I remember that, Steph. You couldn't take your eyes off my ass."

I giggled again.

"I'm betting a lot of women won't be able to take their eyes off my ass."

"OH?" she replied. Her eyebrows raised.

"I wanna walk the length of the parade wearing absolutely nothing."

Danielle broke out laughing. Her hysterical laughter continued unabated for several seconds.

"Who are you gonna call when you get arrested?"

"You," I said.

She shook her head. Her face beamed.

For me it was a game of outdoing the next girl. Past parades had featured bikini clad marchers. I had made up my mind to go fully nude.

"I won't let you do that, Steph."

"March with me then," I replied.

"No way," she retorted.

There was a long, pregnant pause as we stared at one another recalling past parades. I had gone to one wearing jogging shorts and sports bra, and to another clad in just string bikini with triangle tops. I had never marched but instead had ogled marchers. Danielle, clad in denim shorts and cami, stood alone just a few feet away to my left. I couldn't take my eyes off the then stranger.

"Suit yourself."

"Stephanie, if you don't mind me asking, why are you doing this?"

"Because, it's an alternative lifestyle that appeals to me," I replied.

"Okay, so why not just go to a resort where they allow it?" she answered.

"I have been to such places. I once spent a week at Berkshire Vista."

The fact is I like my body. At thirty-four I could still boast a flat tummy with no cellulite in my legs. Firm, round boobs would be sure to attract some attention. My 5 foot 5 inch tall, 120 pound frame carried very little body fat.

Another reason is that I enjoy catching the sun on every square millimeter of my skin. The promise of a hot, sunny day made me think I'd hate to ruin the tan with white spots.

The parade began on schedule at 10 with the antique cars in a procession. The sound of their horns split the air. Behind them came bunches of balloons and those carrying banners. Twirling a baton as I had done in highschool, I brought up the rear. My fully nude body provoked whistles and an occasional shout of "woo hoo"

Throngs of spectators lined the sidewalk to enjoy the procession. Some celebrated coming out. Some of the lesbians in the crowd whistled. Catcalls came out.

"Hot looking babe alert!" shouted a female voice.

Everything I did was calculated to call attention to my body. I began to sashay as if wanting to covey the message that I have a nice ass. The baton twirl that I had mastered years earlier before coming out excited the crowd. A high leg raise flashed pussy at a crowd of horny lesbians. I was really into it.

As I came to the opposite end of the route the surprise awaited me. Danielle, who had come out against my act, stood in the street wearing absolutely nothing. Of course the site of her modest boobs out there pleasured me.

"I thought you weren't gonna do it. you said 'no way'."

"I couldn't let you have all the attention."

Danielle Byrd had become the love of my life. Lost romances hurt but losing her would really hurt.

I giggled. She responded in kind then watched me dress hurriedly. The peculiar thing thing was that I dressed in her blue tank-top and black Levi 512 denim Bermuda shorts. That left her to put on my dark blue T-shirt and denim shorts.

We headed quietly back to our vacation home.