I live in a small town in the south of Sweden. It's basically a rural area with large woods and small farms although the town itself is prosperous with modern industry. Most of the farms are nowadays too small to give a living. The woods are valuable though. Almost everyone seems to have a connection to a farm. It's very common to live on the farm and work in town. The people want to keep the land open although farming isn't profitable so they do.
I am a journalist at the local paper. I like the way a paper like that has to be run with a lot of local news. I have no ambition to make the big scoop. What I really like is to write about the oddities in our society. My work takes me to many places and I meet a lot of interesting people with a deep knowledge in areas beside the mainstream. Many are lovely women.
I am very content with my life. I married a local girl and we were married for about ten years before she left me. She said she couldn't stand my odd hours and that I always seemed to be going somewhere. She also wasn't pleased with my lack of ambition. Maybe she had hoped that we would move to a bigger town, perhaps even our capital Stockholm. She is now married and live on a small farm with two kids. We never got any. Her husband works regular hours and comes home at four-thirty sharp every day.
I have inherited a small farm as well. I live in the house but the open land is taken care of by a neighbor. Except for a meadow that is situated on its own deep in the wood. It belonged in the old days to a crofter's holding. The house is gone since long.
A couple of years ago there was a change of tenant farmer. The new one didn't want to take care of that tiny meadow. It was too small and too far away from the rest. There was no direct way from my farm and the last part was little more than a path through the wood.
I decided too take care of the land with my own hands. I was raised on the farm and know how to use a scythe although I had had little practice in recent years. But I found out that the old skill came back after practice for a couple of days. It was hard work though.
I like to use a few days of my vacation to take care of that land. I like to keep the land open using the old methods. I like to work alone in my own pace surrounded only by the wood. I like to use my muscles and the exercise it gives.
This year was no exception. The weather was fine, warm and sunny. I had added a thrill. I worked in the nude except for a pair of boots. I feel great having the warm wind and the sun all over my body. I dislike having pale parts on my body when the rest is nicely tanned and I also dislike to sun bathe. This was an excellent way to get an all over tan.
I started to work in the morning. The sun was already warm but the air was still crisp. I worked slowly to begin with to get my muscles used to the work and took many pauses leaning against my scythe contemplating. The sun filtered through the trees. Suddenly I saw a pair of roe-deer not far away. It was very peaceful.
It was lunchtime. I rinsed the sweat off my body in a small creek with fresh water and sat down with my lunch box and a beer that I had cooled in the water. I took a deep swallow. Suddenly there was a movement on the other side of the creek. Another roe-deer I thought at first. But no, it was a woman who suddenly appeared between the trees.
How was I so sure that it was a woman? Well, she was naked as the day she was born and she was very womanly indeed. At first I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating. But it soon became clear that she was of real flesh and blood. And very nice flesh I must say.
"Hi there, may I join you? That creek looks lovely. I should want to have my lunch there as well and I would like some company."
She jumped graciously over the creek to my side.
"Hi, I am Diane. Fellow souls aren't we? Like to be outdoors in the nude. You don't mind, do you?"
She wriggled a rucksack I hadn't noticed from her back and sat down at my side. She was very calm and casual. Well, she must have seen me long before I had seen her and made up her mind to come forward.
"Oh no, not at all. A bit surprised that's all. I hadn't expected anyone to come to this remote clearing. Do you want a beer?"
Diane accepted with a broad smile and I hauled another beer from out of the creek. I had brought quite a supply. She took a swallow and sighed deeply.
"Lovely isn't it. This clearing, the trees, the sun, the quietness. I really hope you don't mind my intrusion into it." She smiled at me and straightened her back letting her impressive boobs swing slightly. She wasn't expecting an answer really.
We unpacked our lunches. She had brought only a sandwich while I on the other hand had a rich lunch with eggs and sardines which she readily accepted to share.
She was good company, making nice small talk but not too much. We enjoyed the nature and the quietness in silence now and then. The roe-deer passed again which made her to draw her breath.
"Oh, look at them," she whispered. "So lovely they are. I must make a sketch. I am an artist you know or trying to be."
She pulled a pad from her rucksack and started to sketch the roe-deer. She worked fast catching the outline. She was skilled as far as I could understand. She made three sketches before the roes moved away.
We sat chatting and she quickly found out the most essential things about me. No, I wasn't married. No, I had no steady girlfriend. Yes, I liked women. I was a journalist. Yes, I liked working with my body from time to time. Yes, working in the nude like this had become an obsession.
She on the other hand freely told that she was an artist without any ties but that she still hadn't got her great breakthrough. It was tough but she made a living.
"I take a lot of odd jobs. Among other things I am modeling, also in the nude. I have nothing against that. I love being in the nude and show off. I also do modeling for sculptors. It pays better. Do you know why? Well, it includes touching." She laughed happily. "There is a long tradition claiming that sculptors must get the feel of the model in their hands. And why should young sculptors object to that? Oh, I have to admit that I like it. Think about it. To have three or four pairs of hands all over your body, weighing the boobs, squeezing the ass, grabbing the hips, moving over the belly and cupping the mound when the session starts. And also now and then during the session. What I like best is when they are working in clay. I let them touch me without cleaning their hands. The smooth clay feels good and my body gets smeared all over from it. Lovely, just lovely. But that is as far as it goes of course."
The lunch break had been long but very interesting. I had to start working again although I was in no particular hurry. But I wanted to finish the work in two days. I packed the remains of the lunch in my basket.
"May I stay here and make sketches while you work?" Diane asked. "It's so seldom I came by a male model. I can't afford to hire one myself," Diane asked. "Not to mention a male nude model." She added laughingly. "In fact I have never had the chance to sketch a male working in this way. Please, I think I could do something great."
