John waited beside the jeep as I gathered the final items needed for our weekend at the nudist camp. He immediately grabbed the sleeping bags from under my arms and pitched them in the backseat along side the tent. For the next three days and nights, we would be living out of a tent, cooking our meals over a campfire and enjoying the great outdoors in the buff.
John drove the next two hours while I slept, my head braced against the door. I always slept when John drove, his hand would rest on my thigh, my hand on his. When I awoke, I squeezed his hand and asked if we were close. He replied that we were a few miles from the off ramp.
I yawned and stretched, rubbed my eyes and glanced out the window. The beauty of the Rockies had always managed to astound me. If someone were to ask what my favorite place in the entire world would be, I would have to reply, "Kneeling beside a morning campfire in the early spring somewhere in the Rockies."
John and I had enjoyed many breathtaking weekends camped alongside streams that tumbled down waterfalls, listening to the unforgettable sound of the rushing mountain waters, inhaling the fragrance of wildflowers in the meadows and on the hillsides. We fished, backpacked, hiked, or simply relaxed under the golden aspens in the autumn.
Within a few miles we had left the interstate, another turn took us to the blacktop and as we drove onto the dirt road I began to undress. I tossed my shirt in the back seat, unsnapped my bra and rubbed my breasts, it always felt good letting them out of their cage.
John laughed as he watched. "You weren't this eager, if I remember right, last year." He raised an eyebrow and patted my thigh.
"I know, but that was last year," I grinned.
We joined the line of cars and waited our turn to show Carol our summer's pass.
Bits and pieces of the previous summer ran through my mind. I laughed in spite of myself at the memories.
***
Last year one of John's co-workers had suggested a nudist camp hidden in the foothills near Denver. We were hesitant at first but hashed it over and gave the camp a call. They had sent us some brochures and forms to fill out. With a few more phone calls, we had our visitor's pass, our fishing license, paid the ten-dollar fee to pitch our tent and were on our way.
I had played navigator with the map that they had sent while John drove and within a few hours, we had left the interstate. We were soon on a blacktop that led to an unpaved dirt road. It turned and twisted through the dense pine, soon we approached a wooden cattle gate that crossed the road.
The sign said to honk for admittance so John tapped the horn a couple of times. A small nude woman in her mid forties came out of the cabin with a set of keys in her hand. She stood beside the gate and waited for us to present our visitors pass then unlocked the gate. John got back in the jeep and parked it beside the cabin while I continued to talk with her. She introduced herself as Carol, we later learned that she and her husband owned the camp. She said that there were more pamphlets inside the cabin, to follow her, she would sign us in and assign us a spot for our tent.
With more literature in hand and a map of the twenty acres, we got back in the jeep and slowly drove through the camp. I read the brochures out loud, pointed at different areas we might want to see. There were several rustic small cabins along the road. Some were public bathrooms, and others contained beds and modern conveniences that you could rent for a nominal fee.
We saw outdoor showers beside the swimming pool and a hot tub, a volleyball court and a snack bar that one brochure said served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Near the center of the camp stood a large log cabin, they called The Barn. According to another pamphlet, everyone gathered at The Barn for dinners and dances on the weekends.
There were campers, motor homes, even a couple of mobile homes set up on concrete slabs. Soon the tents came into view, as well as the lake. I checked the map to find our lot.
Once John parked the jeep, we pulled out our tent, let it spring open, and then pounded some stakes around its edge. John put the ice chest inside and I grabbed the sleeping bags and tossed them in the corner. We had brought a couple of lounge chairs and set them beside the fire pit.
We were still dressed.
A woman in her late twenties, blonde hair, tanned from head to toe with absolutely no tan lines, held her hand out as she approached.
"Most people are in the buff by the time they turn onto the dirt road." She laughed. "Hi, I'm Jane, my campsite is just over there." She pointed to the site next to ours. "If you have any questions I'll be happy to help."
She had to be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. No makeup, just a dazzling smile that set off her bronzed Bo Derek face, wide hips, large breasts and the tiniest waist. If she were dressed she would have appeared heavy, but nude she had a gentle and overwhelming beauty.
I shook her hand and invited her to join us. While we talked, I noticed that she had a pale line that ran from just below her breasts to her pubis. She noticed that I noticed and explained that she had a cesarean a few years back. I suppose I had not given much thought to surgical scars, it surprised me even more that that is about how much time I gave to them now.
John had taken off his clothes and tossed them in the tent. It felt strange to see him very nude out in the open. He gave me a sidelong glance, his stance asked if I intended to remain dressed or would I remove the last link to civilization. I stared back at him. Then I looked around, no one had a stitch on except me.
"There's no rush, Anne," Jane smiled, she had noticed John's questioning stare. "We've all been there, some of us just take longer than others, nothing to worry about."
"We carry a towel," she said. "It's good to sit on, lie on or wrap around your waist to cover up your alter ego when you might need to." She looked pointedly at John as she said that.
He stared down at his ego and blushed.
"Our first day," Jane told us between giggles, "Bill and I, Bill's my husband by the way, he's helping shuck corn over at The Barn for dinner tonight. I'll introduce him. He adapted right on the spot, no alter ego problems at all. I think it surprised him more than it did me. I didn't have any trouble shedding my top, my trouble was parting with my bottoms and with my scar, well that made it worse. By the second day we were as nude as everyone else, it just takes time." A flash of humor crossed her face but still she made me feel more comfortable the more she talked.
"I'm headed to The Barn, would you two like to hike over with me?"
John had grabbed a couple of towels from the trunk, one he wrapped around his waist, the other he tossed to me. I took off my t-shirt and bra, put on the bottom to my swimsuit and threw the towel over my shoulders. I held it together with one hand in front covering my breasts. He laughed as if sincerely amused and shook his head. Lacing my fingers with his he leaned over and kissed me then pulled me in the direction Jane had headed.
We followed Jane down the dirt roads that snaked in and out between the cabins. The smell of bacon on campfires mixed with the damp woodsy smell of pine had made my stomach rumble. In the center of the camp stood a large black kettle filled with boiling water over an equally large fire pit.
Jane's husband Bill had stood and waved, as we got closer. He had an ear of corn in one hand as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She introduced us and he invited us to help with the corn husking.
John and Bill chatted away as though they were long lost friends as they headed over to the truckload of sweet corn. Jane and I joined a group of women that were busy preparing the corn for the kettle. All of them were nude. Some sat on tree stumps, some stood, but all of them were busy husking the corn in baskets stationed around the kettle. We found a couple of stumps together and Jane tossed her towel over one then sat down. It took a few moments for it to register that either I sat on that stump with my almost bare butt or I took the towel off my shoulders and sat on it. The thought of John laughing as he removed splinters from my backside made the decision easy.
The men emptied the baskets as fast as we filled them, then they tossed the discarded husks into the fire. Another man stood over the pot, tossing in one basket after the other as he stirred the corn. A line had already started to form at the entrance of The Barn as hungry campers waited their turn.
John had shed his towel and had hung it on the side of the corn truck but I still wore my bottoms.
Jane moved closer to me and whispered, "We usually wear our swimsuit bottoms during that time of the month, if you get my drift." She pulled a few more husks off another cob, "but take your time, you'll get into the swing of it." She winked and grabbed her husband's hand as they got in line for dinner.
I gave her a slow, embarrassed smile that let her know I understood then I signaled for John to come over. When he got near enough, I ask him to walk back to the tent with me so I could get rid of the remainder of my swimsuit. Again, he shook his head and one corner of his mouth pulled into a slight smile.
