Nude Pensioners

Copyright oggbashan July 2022

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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Our Pensioners' Group Committee had a bad idea. For years, possibly a decade, our meeting closest to 14th July had been French themed, to coincide with the anniversary of the French Revolution.

They concluded that they were bored with the Revolution and decided that Nude Day, although National only in the US, should be the theme for our July 14th meeting this year.

That had some sense. They decreed that it should be for married couples only, not the singles. That would be eight couples. Each partner should talk for a few minutes about their partner's naked body, what it meant to them and how it had changed over the years. After about an hour, we would get dressed and join the singletons across the road in the French restaurant.

Marion could talk about my battle scars -- the bullet and shrapnel wounds that were normally covered by my clothes except for the gap in my hair caused by a sniper's bullet that had creased my head when I had my helmet off, examining it after it had been hit by an earlier bullet. I had sheltered behind a tank before taking the helmet off, but another sniper had been positioned to fire down that side of the tank. The wound had looked worse than it was. My scalp was bleeding profusely but it had been a shallow wound.

But what could I say about Marion's body? When we married, I was unscarred. She had been slim and elegant. She was still fairly slim but with sagging breasts and a small tummy roll. I suggested that I had a look tonight before we went to bed.

"You're sure, Harold? Don't you know my body well enough?" Marion asked.

"If I am going to talk about it, I need to remind myself. I love it. I kiss it, frequently, but usually with the light off. I doubt I have looked at it properly for years."

"It's going to be easy for me, Harold. I know every one of your scars, where and when you got them. I spent weeks changing the dressings on them, But my body? What can you say? Except that I've got old. I'm going to be worried at exposing myself in front of our friends..."

"Most of whom have got bodies in worse shape than yours, Marion. A couple have really let themselves go and are shuffling around on sticks propping up their overweight bodies. Take Jane for example. She needs a hip replacement. She would not have needed one if she had kept her weight under control. She's what, nearly twice the weight she was when she married Bob. And he's nearly as bad. He was overweight when they married and is about one and a half times the weight he had been then. By comparison you're marvellous."

"I know you love me, Harold, always have, and you show your love for my body several times a week. That makes me feel good about myself. But I'm still worried about being naked on that day. What are you going to say?"

"That I love Marion's body? That would be a start. But I want to look tonight. Whatever I say I will agree with you first. I know you are worried. You shouldn't be. Neither of us have anything to hide and besides we go swimming in the local baths once a month. Then all my scars are visible and your backless costume doesn't hide much. Nor does it have to. Apart from your breasts sagging, which they don't do in your costume anyway, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"You're sure?"

"Yes" I said emphatically.

"Sagging breasts? I suppose mine aren't as bad as Jane's..."

"Or Heather's?" I suggested.

"Heather? I'd forgotten about her because she's not as heavy as Jane, but her breasts? Without her bra, and I've seen her in the changing room at the swimming baths, they almost reach her waist. If I were Heather I might excuse myself from the 14th July event."

"I wonder whether any of the other couples might not attend?"

"It might be easier, Harold, to work out who will. Albert and Emily? Of course."

Albert and Emily are our oldest members, on the committee and have been for over a decade. They are both small and wiry and seriously fit. They stopped running marathons about eight years ago but still run half-marathons, 5 and 10k races, and join others for a skinny dip on New Year's Day. They are the only married committee members.

"Us? If you're up for the challenge, Marion."

"Yes, Harold, I will."

"Peter and Helen?"

"Probably. They have nothing to hide."

Peter and Helen retired last year and are currently our youngest members. They were Physical Education teachers and still run some evening classes. They organise walks for the group some of which are beyond most of the members, but they also suggest shorter walks for the less fit. Marion and I have been on their longer and shorter walks. At first the longer walks were an effort but practice has made them easier.

"That might be it, Harold. Three couples and we will be the most battered."

"If so, the meeting won't take long, but I think we might be five. I doubt Jane or Heather would come, or Sarah. Sarah is disabled and has difficulty standing. She doesn't like what her body has become nor that her husband has to be her carer. They don't often come to the meetings unless she has a very good day. But the other two couples? Maybe. They aren't obese, not as fit as they would like to be perhaps, but not in bad shape."

That night in our bedroom I looked carefully at Marion's body. Yes, she has scars but not as obvious as mine.

We had the bedroom light on, possibly the first time we had been naked with the light on for what? A decade? At least.

I said I would agree with Marion what I would say.

I started with her right hand, turning it over to examine in carefully. Nothing except some rough skin from gardening. Her lower arm? There were scars on the underside.

"They're still visible, Marion? It was fifteen years ago."

"Sixteen next month, Harold."

We had been out for a country walk, just the two of us, and were crossing a field when the bull we hadn't noticed started charging at us. Marion crossed the stile quickly, not noticing a stray strand of barbed wire which had lacerated her arm. I had to take her to the Minor Injuries Unit to get patched up and have a tetanus injection. I would have thought that scars of a not very deep wound would have faded years ago but they were still there.

I kissed each mark carefully while Marion stroked my hair.

"If you are going to kiss everything, don't be too long. I will get too excited."

There were no more scars on her right arm, her neck, head, and across her body above her breasts. I started on the left arm. Nothing until the left hand. On her index finger there was a line.

"That's when my knife slipped when I was cutting a swede," Marion said as I kissed it.

I moved to her breast and lifted the left one to see the scar I knew would be there from a lumpectomy. At the time we were seriously worried it might have been breast cancer but it was just a small benign growth.

"That tickles, Harold, but this needs more attention."

She pushed an erect nipple into my mouth. I nibbled, sucked and kissed as Marion started moaning.

"I think we ought at adjourn there tonight," Marion said between groans. I want something else, NOW!".

We did, and had a satisfactory coupling, better than we had managed for a couple of years. If examining each other's bodies had this result, sod the meeting. The idea had started us exploring our naked bodies for the first time for years.

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The next night I only managed one scar -- her caesarean from the twins. That was too close to her sex and she wanted my mouth on it instead of on her tummy.

I played with her for at least half an hour before she wanted me inside her.

In the end it took six days before I had completed ny examination of Marion's body, followed by great sex each time.

When Marion began her examination of my battle scars, as expected it took longer -- a whole fortnight.

We were surprising ourselves after years of occasional sex before going to sleep, by coupling passionately every night. That continued even after we had our stories correct for every mark.

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At the Nude Day meeting I had been right in that only three couples attended. One other would have but had gone to see their new grandchild, born last week.

Albert and Emily went first. Emily spoke about Albert's muscles, now more prominent than they would have been a decade earlier, but still impressive. Albert's appraisal of Emily was just as good. They put most of the rest of us to shame. Well, not Peter and Helen, the next couple.

Peter and Helen's bodies were seriously fit, as they should be as active Physical Training instructors. They both had more curves than Albert and Emily, and more flesh covering their muscles. I couldn't stop an erection as Helen showed off her body with enough curves in the right places to show she was a very desirable female.

The others seemed to appreciate my account of Marion's marks, but when it came to Marion's turn for her to describe my battle scars there were frequently exclamations of 'ouch' and indrawn breath. I had never said anything to our fellow members about my army experiences so it was all new to them.

I was pleased to get dressed and go to the French restaurant. While we had been baring our bodies they had been at the bar and were all slightly merry. They wanted an account of how the nude meeting had gone. My scars had been considered the most interesting so I had to strip to my waist for Marion to explain again. When we sat down for a meal I felt as if I had been exposed for everyone.

That evening, and for many subsequent evenings, Marion and I went to bed naked with the lights on and enjoyed ourselves more than we had done for years before the nude meeting had been scheduled.

We were the only couple who had good experiences from the nude meeting. The committee decided for next year that we would forget Nude Day and go straight to the French restaurant.