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Mark M Lichterman

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Short Stories
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· BK1:Becoming; 1940#3

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1 Old Naked Lady 2
By Mark M Lichterman
Posted: Saturday, June 30, 2012
Last edited: Friday, August 10, 2012
This short story is rated "PG13" by the Author.
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There was a speeding boat with a man standing on the bow, who had binoculars, too, and he, too, was looking towards the rocks—and though Mitchell couldn’t hear him—the man was shouting, “Faster! Faster!”

Becoming can now be purchased as a Kindle Ebook @ $4.95


Letting his breath out, swinging his gaze to the ocean, noting that the closest boat was far enough away not to see the lady, bringing the glasses back…

“Holy shit!” He held his breath again because, as he watched…

Lifting her body, the lady pulled her bathing suit off her hips, down her buttocks, thighs, calves and ankles, and…

“Holy shit!”

Rolling the bathing suit, using it as a pillow, the lady’s breasts flattening and laying to her sides, she lay back altogether naked: wonderfully, beautifully, altogether exposed, and…

“Oh, lady!” Thinking, For an old lady you are B-U-tee-full! The binoculars moving from her breasts to the… Said softly, under his breath, “Oh, God,” the binoculars moved to the hairy, black tri-section of her thighs and crotch… then, back up to her head, and—the lady’s hair was light blond—smiling, licking his lips, “Only you and your fighting Coast Guard know for sure!” he said aloud, then…

“Uh-oh!” He looked at his watch, 3:07. The fucking clock should’a been hit seven minutes ago!

 Old Naked Lady 2

 .......but if he went onto the catwalk the lady was sure to see him!

The chained key was on the southwest corner of the shack, precisely in the direction she would look if she noticed any movement within her peripheral vision. The door was on east side of the shack. Normally, the watch went out the door, turned to the right and right again, punched the clock and returned the same way, but… It wouldn’t work that way now, so…

The time clock held about his neck by the strap, going through the open doorway on his hands and knees, turning to the left, he crawled to the northeast corner, turned left, went to the northwest corner, dropped to his stomach and, slithering, he was then, from the naked lady’s perspective, on the back side of the southwest corner. Bringing the clock to the dangling key, he shoved it into the slot, clicked it twice, then backtracked, backwards along the steel catwalk, through the door and into the shack.

Standing, not bothering to brush the dirt off his denims, grabbing the binoculars, “Great!” he studied the lady’s flattened breasts, her wonderful, sun- and air-puckered nipples and, “Mmm, God!” her fuzzy, mismatched black crotch… for approximately five seconds, when…

There was a motion just on the fringe of his vision and, grudgingly, he swung the binoculars from the naked lady’s crotch to…

There was a speeding boat with a man standing on the bow, who had binoculars, too, and he, too, was looking towards the rocks—and though Mitchell couldn’t hear him—the man was shouting, “Faster! Faster!”

A thick trough of white wake followed as the boat sped towards shore for a better look.

“Oh, no!” Mitchell whispered. “Schmuck! Stop! She’ll see you!” Now shouting, “Asshole! Fucker! Son of a bitch! As…

Oh, yeah! She did! The lady did hear the roaring of the motor and, sitting up, did see the rapidly closing boat, as…

“Faster! Faster!” the man on the boat shouted. As…

Even faster, the lady pushed her feet, legs, fuzzy mismatched black crotch, and…

Oh, God!

…her moderate-sized but, Oh, yeah, categorically noticeable breasts…

“Faster! Faster!”

…along with her wonderful, sun- and air-puckered brown nipples back into the green and yellow, one-piece bathing suit and, grabbing her towel…

The speeding boat hit an ocean swell, became airborne a moment then, slamming down, the man on the bow lost his balance, did a summersault in the air and fell into the water. As…

…scampering off the rock the no-longer-naked lady ran diagonally across the point of land to the road, and within seconds was out of sight.

Fortunately, the man in the water was wearing a lifejacket and, waving to it, the boat was circling to come back to him.

“X-ray… Baker… Two…” Speaking slowly, enunciating each word clearly, “to X-ray… Baker… Three.” He pushed the receive button on the transmitter.

The patrol boat cruising the bay answered, “X-ray, Baker, Three, to X-ray, Baker Two. Over Baker Two.”

“X-ray, Baker, Three…” speaking at a normal speed, “we’ve a man overboard one hundred yards off shore, south of the point. Over.”

“Roger, Baker, Two. We’re on our way. Out.”

“X-ray, Baker, Two to X-ray, Baker, Three. Belay the last call; the man’s been pulled aboard his vessel, but I advise to detain and issue a citation for reckless water endangerment. X-ray, Baker, Two, over.”

“X-ray, Baker, Three, to X-ray, Baker, Two. I roger that. Will you guide us to him, Baker, Two? Over.”

“X-ray, Baker, Two to X-ray, Baker, Three… Bet your ass!”


A "Becoming" excerpt

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©July1, 2012 / Mark M Lichterman

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Reader Reviews for "1 Old Naked Lady 2"

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Reviewed by Annabel Sheila
It's such a great story, Mark!!! It would make an awesome movie! Who knows...maybe one day....

Your pal,
Reviewed by Budd Nelson
what agreat part there a 3?
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Great story, Mark; well done!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn. :D

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