The Reader is a Nudist

"Would you like to take boat ride? I'll show you the lake. You really should see the mountain from the other side."

Aspen hesitated.

Brandon put his hand on her arm.

"You go. I'll clean up. But you better take a sweatshirt if it turns cold."

Aspen leaned over and kissed Brandon on the cheek. She ran up to her room and grabbed the red Razorback sweatshirt. She considered grabbing a pair of shorts, too, but it was still very warm, and she felt comfortable with her bikini. To be honest, she enjoyed the way Lucas looked at her when she wore so little. It was a reaction that she knew would never come from his father. She slipped into a pair of sneakers and ran easily down the stairs and out the back door.

Lucas was at the edge of the property, ready to descend the stairs and path down to the pier on the lake. It was quite a distance, and the steepness of the slope made it look even farther away. At the bottom, she expected a putt-putt fishing boat. Instead, she saw a powerful, sleek vessel whose bow rode higher in the water than the stern. It was the kind of boat that could pull a couple of skiers easily.

Lucas helped her in, and tossed her a life jacket.

"I love what you're wearing, but safety first."

She strapped it over her, then twirled to show that her ass was still free.

"I'll take it," he said. "Now, hang on."

Lucas gunned the engines, the boat reared skyward, then zoomed across the lake, bumping noisily against waves. The sun beat on the lake, bouncing rays in every direction onto the boaters. Aspen wished she had bought the sunscreen with her. That led to the thought that she would have liked to have Brandon's hands, too, to apply the lotion.

Lucas had to shout to be heard, but pointed out the features of the lake of which Aspen should be aware. After thirty minutes, Aspen had reached information saturation, and nodded no matter what Lucas announced. The lake narrowed at the far end, and Lucas slowed the throttle to allow the boat to glide easily into a verdant cove. He jumped overboard, and guided the hull onto the gradual shore. He secured the boat and assisted Aspen to wade to shore. Then he leaned into the craft, opened a compartment and removed a waterproof packet. Inside were pencils and a sketchpad. He held it up for Aspen to see.

"If you don't mind..."

Aspen shrugged. She removed the life vest and placed it on the ground like a pillow. Then she knelt, sitting back on her haunches. She stretched out on her tummy, with her cheek on the vest. Although she still wore the bikini, she was virtually naked from behind. She tensed her buttocks a bit as she crossed her legs at the ankles, bent at the knees.

"Perfect," said Lucas, and began to sketch.

Aspen didn't keep entirely still. She rolled her ankles, and swayed her legs side to side although the knees kept on the grass. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her back. When she opened her eye to watch Lucas, he was entirely engaged with sketching. He glanced at her only occasionally, spending most of his time with small lines, shading, and erasures on the page. Then she noticed that he had already torn off four sheets, all showing her figure on the grass. She might as well been nude, because that's what the pictures showed.

She had begun to perspire, and rose up on her knees. She shook her hands to loosen them, then pointed to the lake. She needed to cool off. Aspen waded into the water, and crouched until the water rose to the level of her neck. It felt cool and soothing. Lucas's eyes had followed her into the water and she was tempted to remove her bikini to please him. However, she noticed another couple enter the cove from the wooded area, and spread a blanket to enjoy the waning afternoon. Even so, when she emerged from the lake water, they watched her climbing out of the lake. The wet bikini clung like paint to the curves of her breasts and was nearly transparent between her legs. She raised her arms to push her brown hair back, which allowed everyone to see her lightly clothed body. She had never considered herself an exhibitionist, but she found it thrilling when she saw the reaction of people to her scrawny body. What was their problem?

Lucas still held his sketchbook, waiting for her to return to her spot. This time, she lay on her back, up on her elbows, her knees partially bent. She let her head drop back, accentuating the lines of her neck. The warmth of the sun warmed the pieces of fabric on her body while evaporating the water drops dotting her skin. She couldn't help but smile.

When he had finished, Lucas put his sketchbook aside. He tapped together the sheets he had drawn and fastened a small clip at the top. She watched him put the material back into the waterproof container. Lucas didn't get up yet. Instead, he just sat in a relaxed posture, watching Aspen, observing her, paying intense attention to the minutest aspects of her figure. She allowed his eyes to crawl over her body, while taking slow, long breaths.

Eventually, he stood, and helped her to rise up. They waded into the lake, and Lucas lifted her into the boat, and tossed her the life vest. Aspen gave a mock frown, and put it on again. Lucas put his weight against the hull to push the craft off the beach, sliding heavily until the hull was completely free. Then he mounted the side like cowboy on a horse. The engine sputtered to life, and he performed a nearly tipping u-turn and headed back to Brandon's pier.

It was close to five o'clock by the time they got back. Aspen put on her sweatshirt to climb from the pier up to the top of the mountain. It reached past her bottom to the tops of her thighs. She was glad she had put it on when she saw who else had dropped by to see Brandon that day.

"Hello, Mother."

Compared to the warmth Aspen had sensed between Lucas and his father, an overwhelming chill accompanied the greeting Lucas gave to his mother.

"Hello, Roger."

"Lucas, while you may not respect me, you should at least respect the education and skill that Dr. Roger has demonstrated. Please call him Doctor."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I've had difficulty recognizing his doctor skills when he seduced the wife of his patient."

"Please grow up, Lucas. You're no longer twelve years old. I assumed you'd be an adult by now."

Brandon stepped between them.

"Lucas, Norma, let's be civil. What brings you here, dear?"

Lucas smirked.

"Isn't it obvious? She must have heard that Aspen came to church with you this morning, and she couldn't rest until she had an opportunity to eyeball her for herself. Isn't that right, Mother?"

Aspen suddenly felt she was the center of attention, if not the bone a couple of dogs were snarling over. She began to slip away, moving in the direction of the cabin. She hadn't gotten far when Lucas grabbed some of her sweatshirt and held her in place. His grab had the unfortunate effect of raising the hem of the sweatshirt above her ass, revealing that it was all but naked. Norma's eyes grew three sizes at the sight.

"So, she is a nudist. Is that the kind of tramp you hire as, ahem, 'a reader'?"

"I'm not a nudist," Aspen muttered. She couldn't argue the "tramp" appellation.

Doctor Roger approached her, looking at her slender legs. He leaned forward to examine her eyes, sniffed, then pushed up the sleeve of her sweatshirt on the left arm. When he saw the old track marks along the vein, he straightened with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Junkie," he pronounced.

"Recovering!" protested Aspen. "I've been clean for seventy-nine days and counting." She pulled down her sleeve and the hem of the shirt. She pulled away from Lucas, and stomped toward the cabin.

"Leave, Norma," said Brandon.

"Yes. Please leave, Mother."

"Come on, dear," said Dr. Roger. He led her toward the cabin, following Aspen onto the patio and into the cabin. Aspen felt them behind her, breathing down her neck. When they were out of earshot of Lucas and Brandon, Norma used a harsh whisper to address Aspen.

"Don't get too comfortable. You won't last, dearie. Neither Brandon nor Lucas has any record of staying with a woman for any length of time."

"I'm a reader, ma'am, not an escort. Please leave me alone."

Dr. Roger muttered one word before they left, "Junkie."

Aspen ran up the stairs to her suite, where she showered for twenty minutes, and still felt soiled.

Aspen spent the next week posing for both Brandon and Lucas, usually spending time with each separately. Brandon used his fingers to explore her face, her hands, and her feet. After he had constructed sculptured pieces of those body parts, he asked if he could do a piece using her legs. He posed her in a reclined posture, and used his hands to explore her thighs, her knees, and her calves. As he did so, Aspen remembered the great job he had done applying the sunscreen lotion, and the accompanying massage.

For Lucas, she posed as he positioned her. Sometimes he asked her to sit on a blanket on the floor of the studio. Sometimes she stood leaning against a table. He brought a chair with an extension to hold her feet, and seemed most pleased with the sketches and images he was able to pull from her poses.

Between the sessions, Aspen read from Fifty Shades of Grade for both Lucas and Brandon. She read slowly so that she wouldn't make easy mistakes. Very soon, though, the men both became amused by the story, and urged her to hurry to the next scene that they could howl at.

Lucas made his boat available to tour the lake with Aspen, and they frequently found time to go swimming, usually skinny-dipping. Aspen's concern that she might be observed didn't last long. People thought she was a nudist, well, so be it. She didn't flaunt her nudity, but she was no longer ashamed of the body that she inhabited.

On Wednesday, Brandon's red-headed friend Ashley stopped by. She was dressed in a business suit, and Aspen made an effort to imagine her not as the hooker in the negligee, but as a knowledgeable counselor for her clients. She kissed Brandon when she arrived, but he was obviously surprised that she had visited midweek.

"What brings you here?"

Ashley pulled out a new Apple laptop.

"This is for your new guest, your reader, Brandon."

Aspen was overwhelmed. No one had ever given her something as nice and expensive as this thing. She'd never had a computer, but she knew that it opened up the world to those who could use it. Despite being naked, she stepped forward to accept Ashley's gift.

"Thank you, thank you," she stammered. "I can't repay you. But I'll owe you. I promise."

"Don't mention it, darlin'. I figure you need something to occupy your time and your mind, right? You still have that roarin' Wi-Fi, right, Brandon?"

Aspen held the laptop close to her, and couldn't help shed a few tears.

"Thank you."

Brandon walked Ashley to the door, out of Aspen's hearing.

"So, your real reason for providing the laptop?"

Ashley gave a smile so sweet butter wouldn't melt in it.

"I thought she should have somethin' to keep her busy besides attendin' to your needs, alright, darlin'?"

She kissed Brandon passionately on the lips, then used a tissue to remove her lipstick from his mouth.

"I'll see you Saturday night, lover?"

"Of course," he said.

Ashley raised her eyebrow as she took another look at the naked young woman cradling her new laptop.

"I'm countin' on you bein' ready to burst from workin' all week with your young eye-candy. So, no cheatin' before Saturday. Deal?"

"I'm only human," he said.

Ashley pulled his face to hers again, but instead of kissing him, she bit his lip.

"Bye, darlin'."

By Friday, with Lucas's help, Aspen had learned to navigate the web fairly well. Then she made the mistake of typing in her own name. What appeared were photos and videos taken of her. Some were recent — this past Saturday, when landscaping crews had caught her in front of her windows when she had not been dressed. Other videos were from times she could not remember, or chose not to remember, from back in her using days. She had fallen pretty far, and was willing to do anything with her body to get to the next high.The videos showed that she was someone who didn't care for clothing, and didn't care who saw her. She would dance on bar tops, pool tables and diving boards. She wandered through dance clubs, agreeing to flash anyone with a camera. Then there were the sadder pictures: Aspen lying in a heap in a doorway, or sprawled across the cool tiles of a restroom, or asleep but lying half-off someone's bed.

Aspen knew that those images were of her, but she didn't have a memory of those times, thankfully. She tucked the laptop away, and went to the Friday afternoon session with both Brandon and Lucas. They wanted to both be present, since time was short. The musicians would be coming at eight o'clock that evening or thereabouts, and they needed to finish their work well before that time.

Aspen walked into the studio wearing a silk robe around her shoulders.

"Where would you like me?" Her voice was flat, mirroring how she felt.

Lucas indicated the center of the studio floor, where the sunlight had just begun to scrape across the wooden floor. At the center she shrugged off her robe, and let it pool at her feet. Lucas gasped.

"What?" she asked.

"You look...different," he said. "More mature. Maybe sadder. Did you have bad news? Have you some trouble you are not telling us about?"

Aspen shook her head, and the short brown hair whipped against the sides of her cheeks. She bent one knee, and stood with her weight primarily on her left leg.

Brandon spoke to her. "Lift your right arm and put your hand behind your neck."

She did. The movement extended her chest.

"Put your other hand on your hip."

Aspen did so. The sunlight warmed the tops of her feet and soon would move up the length of her legs.

"That looks wonderful, Aspen." Lucas began to sketch. She heard the scratch of pencil and ink pen on paper as he worked.

Brandon came forward. He placed his hands on her back, and moved up to her shoulders, noting the way her muscles were positioned differently on the right and left side. Then, his hands slid down her back along the line of her spine. At her waist, his hands stopped. He tried to encircle her waist with his fingers and found that with just a little pressure, he could do it.

Lucas watched Brandon's exploration. At each position, Lucas made sketches. Her waist was so much smaller than he had been able to draw it previously.

Brandon's long middle finger went into the cleft of her buttocks. Aspen caught her breath, remembering the intense pleasure he had elicited from her with the sunscreen. This time, he was gauging the depth. It was important if her ass was to appear realistic.

He stood in front of her, his hands on her waist again. With a slight movement down, he noted the fecund width of her hips. His hands slid along her hips until they began to narrow again. Aspen stood as still as she could. He was measuring her. She was just an object to him.

Aspen heard the front door open and close, but Brandon didn't stop his examination, and the scratchy noise from Lucas's easel didn't ease up. Aspen wondered who had arrived, and why no one seemed to care.

"Hello! Your door was open so we just came in. Brandon? Hello!"

Aspen recognized Layla's voice, and heard her heavy footsteps before she saw her zaftig figure in the doorway. She wondered who else was with her. Ashley again?

"Oh, honey! You are so lovely standing there in the sunlight. No wonder Lucas has a lovely hard-on."

"Layla!" Lucas said. The noise from his ink pens stopped for a moment.

"Oh, don't deny it, honey, and don't be ashamed. It's only natural."

"You shouldn't talk about my son that way, Layla." But it wasn't Brandon who spoke. It was his wife, Norma. "Hello, Brandon. Hello, Lucas. Hello...I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

Layla chuckled in a deep-throated way. "Like hell you don't, Norma. You begged to come with me to check up on these two men. I told you they would be painting and sculpting, but what were you expecting? An orgy?"

Norma walked into the studio and stood looking over Brandon's shoulder. "I can see why you want to make her into something you can touch whenever you want to. She does have a certain waif-like charm. Does she remind you of me, Brandon? I think my tits were nicer. Remember my tits, Brandon?"

"Mother, disgusting," said Lucas.

"You can leave now," said Brandon. "What brings you here, anyway?"

Layla placed a cardboard box on one of the tables, clearing away tubes of paint. "I had some Mary Kay samples that I thought your reader might like."

Layla stood next to Norma, and marveled at Aspen's body. Brandon moved his hands from Aspen's hips up to her rib cage. Then he touched her breasts, one hand on each.

"They are like small birds," he said. "So light, but so warm."

"Mine are nicer," said Norma.

"Mine are bigger," said Layla, "but I don't think that what he's looking for right now."

Aspen's breath became more ragged. Her breasts fluttered in his hands, and her nipples became harder. Brandon separated his middle fingers and let the tips of her breasts ease through them. Then he squeezed them, and pulled back, stretching the nipples until they popped from his fingers. They remained stiff and sensitive and pointed toward him like the spout of a funnel.

"Again," Aspen whispered.

Brandon's fingers separated as he grasp her small breasts, squeezed on the nubs and pulled on them until they popped back.

"Ah!" Aspen cried. Then she pressed her lips together.

"Pretty hot," said Layla.

Brandon's hands drifted lower. His left hand found her abdomen and rested there. But his right hand went lower and his middle finger separated the wild growth of her pubic hair. Aspen's breathing became faster. She wanted to remove her hand from her neck and guide Brandon's hand to her most sensitive spots, but that would not be what a model should do. She could feel a slick wetness between her legs, and from the way his finger moved back and forth, Brandon had found that moisture, too.

She pressed her lips together again, but couldn't help but moan a little. Her pelvis tilted toward Brandon a little, making it easier for him to find his way in.

"Too much pussy hair," said Layla.

"We should shave her," said Norma. "You'd love to feel a smooth pussy, wouldn't you, Brandon? And, Lucas, you could paint her showing her as smooth as a plucked chicken."

"Disgusting, Mother."

Brandon's finger hadn't stopped moving deeper and deeper within Aspen. It was longer than she had imagined, and felt thicker, too. It was a busy fellow, circling, seeking the nub of her sex. It wasn't long before he found it, and let the tip of his finger slowly measure its diameter.

Layla opened the sample box she'd brought, and took out a pair of scissors, some shaving lotion, a lady's razor, and some aloe.

"You'll thank me later," she said.

Layla pushed Brandon back while she trimmed the longest hairs from Aspen's vagina. Then she applied the shaving lotion and used the razor to stroke the remaining tufts. Norma brought a chair for Aspen to sit on while Layla spread wide her legs to scrape off all the stubble that was visible. She laughed as she worked, finding great amusement in denuding Aspen's sex.

Norma had a smug smile on her face. Aspen recognized that look. It was the mean look that the proper girls always gave her when they wanted her to feel inferior, unworthy, and unwanted. So many years later, it still hurt her. She couldn't stop tears from welling in her eyes.

Norma threw Aspen a towel so she could wipe herself. Then Aspen wiped her eyes and resumed the position that Brandon had requested, one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her hip. Brandon edged forward, found her, and slid his hand over her smooth mons. Lucas squeezed out tubes of paint and started to fill in the sketches he had begun.