Liberte Egalite Fraternite Eng

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité

My story for the

Nude Day Story Contest 2023

© JoeMoe1619 -- June 2023

The three ladies at the window table of the small, family-owned French restaurant nearby the famous York Minster, had been in very good mood. Me, Professor Dr. Louise Clearwater, 48 years old and lecturer at the University of York's department for the history of art, had come back from a six-month scientific and lecturer exchange trip to Paris' thrilling Sorbonne University few days before. This was the first meeting with my closest friends, Amy O'Reilly, who worked -- although of Irish decent - as professor for English literature and drama, and Carol MacKenzie, who was the third professor in our trio, teaching industrial history at our alma mater. All three of us closed in on our fiftieth birthday, had been divorced during our thirties and had raised our in total five children as single mums. Fortunately all five had left home in the meantime, so we three had time to enjoy ourselves and our professional as well as our private life.

"Six months in Paris, it still sounds like a dream", fancied Amy. "I always loved to be in Paris."

"Even better when you get paid for", laughed Carol. "I was always near bankruptcy when I came home from Paris. Too much wonderful things to buy, too much expenditure for good restaurants and entertaining evenings."

"Absolutely true. My grant for these six months wasn't luxurious, but luckily, I was able to get two well-paid expert assessments during that time which kept me going without problems."

"Sometimes it is good to be a worldwide well-known expert in nudity." Carol grinned broadly. "Under these aspects industrial history is significantly more boring and less lucrative."

"I tell you the story about one of these assessments later. It is almost a fiction story."

In this moment the waitress served our first bottle of red wine, followed by the restaurant's patron, who took our orders. As we three had been regular guests at his restaurant we chatted a while about the reason of my long absence. He recognized that I had been to Paris for almost half a year and became even more cheerful. "You are a lucky person, Madame Professor. The last time I stayed in Paris for six months I wasn't even an adult." He shrugged his shoulders. "And now I am in York for more than thirty years. But I welcome you back home. And will honour your return with the best Bas-Armagnac after you have finished your menu."

Me and my friends discussed a lot of aspects and personal impressions from our various trips to Paris, covering a wide time span from our own teenage years until recently. Finally Carol came back to the beginning of our evening. "What is the story about this well-paid assessment?"

"Fascinating case, indeed. I had two siblings in my seminar about 'female act painting over the centuries'. Absolutely clever and gorgeous kids and students. Jean-Jacques is student for art history and economics at the Sorbonne and is taking classes in painting at the Paris college of art. His one-year younger sister Michelle is combining art history with classes in international law, on the creative side she is a very talented sculpturer."

"Unbelievable talented siblings. Why do they read these unusual combinations?"

"Because their father is Bernard Fillon, the famous gallerist and art auctioneer. His children shall take over his business someday and he is investing into their education."

"Well done, Papa", commented Amy. "The most important investment into a company's future."

"You're right. But for me the most beautiful thing was that both siblings are wonderful young people. Not a little bit smug or priggish. Neither against me nor the other students. And with an already brilliant network into the actual art scene in Paris. I can tell you that I have met a lot of very interesting artists. Young as well as old, I've never heard about them before."

"I can imagine." I could hear a small tone of jealousy in the voice of Carol. "Sometimes I really feel that you are on the more attractive side of historical science."

I smiled to her. I knew very well that she had a lot of gender-related conflicts with colleagues in her department who were predominantly male.

"What have these siblings to do with your assessment job?"

"One day in November Jean-Jacques came to me after the seminar and invited me in the name of his father into his office at the gallery. I thanked for the invitation and asked him for the reason of this honour."

"It a little secret Madame Professeur. He will tell yourself", was his shy answer.

"Two days later I took a taxi to the gallery and met Mr. Fillon. After a little small talk he escorted me to a special room in his gallery and placed a schematic drawing in front of me. 'You are a well-known expert in nude paintings, Madame. One of France's most important painting with a female half-act is Eugene Delacroix's 'Liberty is leading the people'. I believe that this schematic drawing belongs to Delacroix's preparations of his colossal painting. We want your expertise, please. Because until today this drawing has been unknown and is definitely not registered."

"Wow. Unknown work from Delacroix. Is this possible?"

"'It is possible.' He told me the background story about this drawing, gave me the results of all scientific investigations and I went to work. Four weeks later I gave him my expertise that this drawing was an original. I was lucky. On the back of the drawing I found part-fingerprints of Eugene Delacroix himself which supported my scientific evaluation."

"How much has it been valued?"

"Mr. Fillon sold this drawing for more than four million Euros."

"Wow", was the answer of my friends, almost like a chorus.

I took my mobile out of my handbag, scrolled down some pictures until I found the original painting. I showed it to my friends. "When you look at this panting you always look to the dominating figure of the bare-breasted, flag swinging woman in the centre of a crowded and chaotic scene with soldiers, militias and ordinary people. Almost nobody looks to the small scenery on the right edge which is almost covered by smoke and fog. It's the landscape of old Paris, dominated by the Notre-Dame Cathedral." I laughed loud. "Can you imagine a bare-breasted woman with the French tricolore in her hand, walking through today's Paris?"

Amy and Carol had been silent for a while, looking at the tiny details of the painting.

"I don't know", was finally Amy's answer. "It is Paris, so why not?"

We three laughed together and ordered another bottle of red wine after we had emptied the first one. Amy and I could see that Carol was in deep thoughts. Suddenly she burst out into a loud laughter again. "I just imagine three bare-breasted ladies, body-painted in blue, white and red with this revolutionary hat on top, marching in front of the French army down Champs-Elysées, each carrying a huge French tricolore flag in her hand. What do you think Mr. and Mrs. Macron would say about such show?"

We joined in her laughter. "Why do you take July 14th, Bastille Day for this?"

"Because some American medias placed the date for National Nude Day on the same date. But until now I can't see any naked soldier marching down Champs-Elysées."

We made a lot of jokes about this crazy idea of three naked women, celebrating National Nude Day during Bastille Day celebrations. Even the restaurant's patron, who served us the promised Bas- Armagnac 'on the house' laughed loud, when he recognized our discussion. He looked at us and smiled broadly. "You should do it yourself, my ladies. Marianne was a lady from the people. She is a symbol of liberty, equality and fraternity. She's not a model, she's an ordinary woman."

Our patron left our table and went back his bar. But he left behind an absolutely crazy idea. I looked to my friends. "Our patron just suggested that three mature English professors should march down Champs-Elysées on July 14th, entirely naked! You got it?"

We looked at each other, first with a lot of prank in our eyes, but from second to second becoming more determined.

"Why not?" said Amy suddenly. "It is such crazy idea. Never done such stupid thing before. So I am in."

I raised both eyebrows and looked to my friends. "You are right, Amy. It would be the craziest thing, I've ever done. But I am old enough to do crazy things. Let's do it!"

This pushed even Carol to commit herself to this idea. "And how would you do it?"

"I have already an idea. I told you from Jean-Jacques and Michelle Fillon. Together with another friend these two are semi-professional bodypainters. I've experienced it myself, but I will tell you this story later. I can imagine that they will join us and will create special body-paintings for such event. They are very creative."

"What experience do you have with bodypainting?" Amy and Carol became curious.

I took a deep breath. "That's Paris live. I don't know whether it is embarrassing, but I enjoyed it very much."

"You got bodypainted? By your students?"

I smiled to my friends from whom I knew very well that both hadn't been prudice by any means. We had some lesbian and bi-sexual encounters between us and together with other partners in the past, so we knew each other very well.

"Jean-Jacques and Michelle invited me to an artist New Year's Eve party at Montmartre and I accepted. There was one dress code condition -- artistic bodypainting was strictly required and the best design would be honoured with a special price. Still today the artists' world at Montmartre and Paris in general has a special atmosphere. You do things you would never do at any other place in the world. So I accepted that both of my students created my bodypainting design for that evening. I shaved myself completely the day before and then it took them almost three hours to create their artwork on me with very colourful greasepaint.

"Do you have pictures from their artwork on your body on New Year's Eve?" Amy sounded curious and really horny.

"Of course." I took my mobile again, scrolled my photo library and presented a number of pictures of my finished bodypaint.

"You had been completely naked?!"

"Absolutely. Not even a string tanga. Their studio was in very close distance to the party facilities. I just took me a coat and some boots to walk the few steps. Some other guests walked even fully naked to the party although it was rather nasty weather." I grinned. "It's Paris."

"So all party guests had been naked and bodypainted?"

"More or less. Some had some lingerie and shorts on which had been integrated in their artwork. But most had been as naked as I was."

"And how was the party?"

I grinned again. "I don't want to go into details, but it was very exciting. After midnight my artwork was more or less destroyed and blended with other artwork. But I had the best sex for a long time. Young, strong, hungry French stallions and similar young and thirsty mares." I paused for a few moments and thought about the events ten weeks ago. "I think I climaxed four times that night."

"Oh my god", groaned Amy. "I would have loved to have joined you. What an event!"

Suddenly Carol clapped her hands. "We can repeat Louise's adventure on July 14th. Let's do it! I need to do something absolutely crazy before I celebrate my 50th birthday. And it is better to do it anonymously in France than in the UK.

Amy and I agreed. So the next two hours we developed a plan for our crazy idea.

On July 8th, six days before Bastille Day as well as National Nude Day three mature English lecturers at the University of York took the train to London and then the Eurostar train to Paris. All three had worked out intensively over the last four months and brought their bodies into real good shape. I was almost 6 feet high and weighted 72 kg. Amy was half a foot smaller, but very athletic because she visited her sport's studio for many years. And Carol was a long-distance runner since her High School years and ran two marathons per year anyway. But all three of us had some nice formed boobs, a direct result of pregnancies and breast feeding.

"We are absolutely competitive with the girl in Delacroix's painting", was my clear view after we inspected each other in the weeks before at an evening with a wonderful threesome.

In the meantime Jean-Jacques and his sister had taken up our idea and had developed bodypainting designs for us. I should become the blue lady, representing 'Liberté'. Carol the white one as 'Egalité' and Amy, who had full red hair anyway, would take up the red colour of the tricolore as 'Fraternité'. These three key words of the French Revolution would be written on our right thighs, from our knee upwards to our hip. The siblings had sent us computer animated designs, so we could see their ideas before.

Michelle had organized our hotel booking in one of the side streets of Champs-Elysées, both siblings welcomed us at the very fine hotel lobby after we reached our final destination by taxi. At the hotel's check-in we got a first big surprise. Prepared to show our credit cards the receptionist smiled. "Sorry, I don't need your credit cards. Everything had already been paid during the booking process."

I looked surprised at Michelle, who stood just beside me. "What does this mean?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "What are you asking for?"

"The hotel manager says that our accommodation plus breakfast is already paid. Why?"

"The gallery has arranged your hotel. So I assume they have paid already." She smiled innocently.

"The gallery?"

"Yes. Jean-Jacques will explain later or tomorrow."

We agreed to meet at the hotel's bar half an hour later to discuss the status of our adventure and the preparations on Jean-Jacques' and Michelle's side.

"I hope, the rooms are fine for you", welcomed Jean-Jacques us at the bar with his unbelievable charm every woman between 20 and 60 would enjoy.

"Oh yes. But we had been more than surprised that you have already paid our booking."

"Yes, the gallery has already done it." He took a deep breath and smiled to all three of us. "When Michelle and I started our work for this project it became obvious that we needed help. So I went to my father"- he looked at me -- "who is very fond of you and your work and asked for his help. When he heard from your idea, he ordered that the gallery should take over the administration and the costs for the project. 'This is a wonderful and unique art event', he concluded, 'and nobody shall disturb it.' So, we all are now part of a special art event. That is the main reason, why we have our kick-off meeting for our last preparations tomorrow morning at the gallery's office."

We accepted this schedule and accepted further the siblings' dinner invitation at a small, but as we should learn, excellent restaurant close to the hotel. I shook my head when Jean Jacques ordered the bill at the end of the evening. "We can't accept that students pay the dinner for three foreign professeurs." I tried to pick-up the bill, but Jean-Jacques rejected my attempt.

"No problem, Madame Professeur. The bill is on the gallery too." He signed the bill without paying it. "My father loves this place and is a regular."

Amy, Carol and I thanked him and his sister very much for this invitation. Then I looked the siblings straight into their faces. "Please, we are an artist cooperative now. Please drop the 'Professeur' and use our Christian names."

Jean-Jacques and Michelle accepted.

Next morning Bernard Fillon welcomed us at the main meeting room inside his famous gallery. "My Ladies", was his introduction, "when Jean-Jacques and Michelle presented your idea to me, I was immediately impressed. And I want that your idea becomes a big art event success for all of us." Then he looked to his children. "Please show us, what you have done."

Michelle took her laptop and connected it to the beamer. "We have been in an intensive dialogue with you in York about the designs and the preparation of bodypainting and accessories. But to create a full-blown event we had to do much more. With the help of father's gallery we applied at the Paris Magistrate for a licence for a patriotic art event." She smiled. "You can't walk down Champs-Elysées on Bastille Day, bare-breasted or fully naked. Nor any other day. The flics would have arrested you after the first five minutes. But the magistrate has accepted and we have a full licence. The good thing with this licence is that we are protected, by our own security, but even better, officially by police. They will not arrest you; they will escort you."

We three looked at each other, impressed by the presentation.

"Then we have agreed with the magistrate on time and marching route." Michelle showed a Power point slide with a map. "We start at 5.30pm at our starting point at Arc d'Triomphe de l'Etoile and march down Champs-Elysées on the northern pavement. Until then all installations from the earlier military parade in the morning will be removed. The police will not clear the pavement, so we will mix with the public. But we will have some private security guards in front of us and at our side. Our march with you ladies in blue, white and red will stretch approximately halfway down the boulevard. Then we turn left and walk to your hotel. We want to make a test run with you three ladies two days before, so we can determine the time you need to walk this distance in high heels."

"How do we reach our starting point, fully painted and prepared?"

"Very easy", was Jean-Jacques' answer. "We have rented a small shop at Place Charles de Gaulle for all preparations of the event, which is actually empty. The shop's entrance is our starting point, just around the corner of Champs-Elysées."

"Oh my god", was my spontaneous reaction, "you have done such a brilliant job to bring our crazy idea into reality."

Bernard Fillon grinned broadly. "Indeed. It is the first art event my kids are creating in their own responsibility. And I am excited to support them as well as you. Three naked mature ladies, all in excellent shape, get bodypainted in the colours of the tricolore and march down Champs-Elysées with our flag. Similar to Delacroix's painting. This is such a fascinating and crazy art happening idea. I love it, especially on Bastille Day."

Jean-Jacques, who sat on my right side, moved over to me and whispered into my ear. "And I am convinced, my dad loves to see you naked, marching down the avenue." He grinned broadly. I understood.

The ongoing presentation showed the final bodypainting designs for us. Jean-Jacques would prepare my blue body, Michelle would take over the white part with Carol and Eric, a close friend of them, who participated in my classes too, would take over the red Amy. Our head covers would be the typical Phrygians, Marianne's liberty hat symbol, each in our colour, combined with a coloured eye-mask to protect our identity.

"We will produce a video of this art event", explained Jean-Jacques. "We will have in total three mobile cameramen, who will escort our walk and one additional camera drone to get moving pictures from above. The event video will be placed on the gallery's website as well as on Instagram, YouTube and other social media."

"That is the second main advantage that we are creating an officially permitted art event", explained Michelle additionally. "It secures us the copyright for this event with all media output it can get."

Amy, Carol and I had been deeply impressed by the initiative and work our artist partners had invested into this project. A crazy idea at a French restaurant's dinner table in York had become an art event. And we, three mature lecturers from York University, became the focus of this event.