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Mark M Lichterman

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Elysium Fields 12: Bare Ass
By Mark M Lichterman
Posted: Saturday, August 20, 2011
Last edited: Friday, September 09, 2011
This short story is rated "R" by the Author.

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Looking at his wife as she lay flat upon her back: Black hair bound into a pony-tail, long legs and thin thighs, her dark hair trimmed to a fine triangle, Marsha had a flat stomach, moderately sized breasts with silver-dollar size, dark areola...

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“I told you I wasn’t going to get naked.”

 

“Like I said, that’s your choice. But you know me and you know that I’d be horny as hell seeing all these naked women...” chuckling, “some of these naked women, but there’s so many I can’t concentrate on any.”

 

“Better not concentrate too much, ‘cause,” flicking his limp penis with the tip of her finger, “I’ll know when you do.”

 

“Hey, baby, you’re the only woman here that's ‘turning me on’, but I guarantee you’re turning other guys on, too.”

 

“ ‘Cause I’m wearing a bathing suit?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So, okay already.” Reaching behind her back, unclasping it, Marsha let the top fall onto her lap.

 

 

Elysium Fields Part 12

Topanga Canyon, California

 Saturday, May 17, 1986

 12:01 PM

 

 “See," Mitchell said, “it’s not all that bad, is it?”

 

Sitting up with her knees cocked hiding her chest, “no, not ‘all that bad’.”

 

Holding her shoulders, forcing Marsha onto her back, her breasts flattening across her chest, “relax,” Mitchell said, “you’re one of the most beautiful women here. You’ve absolutely nothing to be ashamed of!”

 

                                                                                               ****

 

After about a half hour, sitting up, “What the hell,” Marsha conceded, “no one here knows us.” Lifting her buttocks, removing the bottoms, “may as well take it all off!” looking about a few seconds, she then lay back.

                                                                                                 ****

In 1955, at the time of their marriage, stating she’d wanted to have four children by the time she was thirty, Marsha now had four adult children that were able to live on their own.                                                                                         

                                                                  

Truth be told, at age fifty, Marsha Lipensky was still a beautiful woman.

 

One of those enviable, eternally thin women, at five-seven and a half, no one knew where her height came from because Marsha was taller than her brother and both of her parents.

 

Having broad shoulders, a straight waist, practically no hips and small, tight buttocks, when younger, looking at her from the rear, Marsha could easily pass for a slight boy.

From the front, though, there was no mistaking that Marsha Lipensky was definitely all woman.

Her long, curly, black hair framing a beautiful, dark-eyed, classically Semitic face; deeply tanned, the portions of her body that had been protected from the sun stood out in solid contrast to the rest of her body. Though the mother of four children, as when younger, the size of her bra remained 34B, but because she had a wide rib cage, appearing larger than they actually were, her breasts did tend to fill out at the sides, giving her attractive, wide cleavage. Marsha had a thin torso and long, slender legs. Her tightly curled, pitch-black pubic hair was silky fine and had always been trimmed short so that no embarrassing, stray “pubies” could slip out from between the legs of her bathing suit. Which, of course, didn’t quite matter on this day at Elysium Fields.

                                                                                                       ****

Looking at his wife as she lay flat upon her back:  Black hair bound into a pony-tail, long legs and thin thighs, her dark hair trimmed to a fine triangle, Marsha had a flat stomach, moderately sized breasts with silver-dollar size, dark areola...

 

Having his wife to share the beauty of Elysium with him, unable to contain himself, feeling an overwhelming sense of love, “Marcie,” her eyes opening, “I love you,” Mitchell said softly, “I love you so much.” Bringing his lips to hers, they kissed.

 

At the times of their anger; Marsha’s anger triggering Mitchell’s anger, their dislike of one the other was a deeply felt, hateful emotion. At the times of their love; at the times when Marsha’s blood sugar levels were not see-sawing, at the good times when she could actually sleep; at those times, her love triggering Mitchell’s love, their love was a deeply felt very often physical emotion.

 

This being the reason neither sought divorce: At the hateful times both felt they could not live with each other! However – This the reason Mitchell hesitated when invited to have intercourse with Lita. – at the loving times both felt they could not live without the other.

                                          

1:10 PM

The temperature rising, “Mitchie.” sitting up, “it’s getting hot. Want to go to the pool?” She asked.

 

“Yeah, baby, I’m getting hot, too.” Standing, reaching to her...

 

Sitting or lying since completely removing her bathing suit, now though, the thought of standing in the open fully nude with all these people about a far different matter. Hesitating, thinking, I’ll have to get up sooner or later and what’s the difference, nobody here knows me so I might as well go bare ass. Reaching upward, taking Mitchell’s hand, Marsha stood.

 

Walking from the blanket to the pool, feeling the hot air upon her body... upon her entire body, holding her husband’s hand, all sense of embarrassment suddenly gone, knowing that for a woman her age... knowing that for a woman her age with four adult kids she looked damn good. Also, looking to her side, always taking pride in her husband’s good looks, knowing, for a man of fifty-two, her deeply tanned husband was, most probably, the best looking man there.

 

Her love for the man at her side and the beauty of day and, yes, the beauty of this place, for the beauty of Elysium, Marsha Lipensky’s hand tightened about that of her husband.

 

As nobody here knew her... Her sense of pride overriding all sense of embarrassment, Marsha’s body straightened.

                                                                                                       

1:40 PM

“Mitchie...” standing waist deep at the shallow end, Mitchell, having swam to the deep end, “Mitchie,” Marsha called, “I’m getting hungry, so whenever you want to go back...”

 

The one other person in the pool, a middle aged, extremely small busted, dark-haired woman who was standing chest deep in the water with her head held back accepting the mid-afternoons sun…

                                                                                                     

Once again, a slight digression.

 

Mitchell and Marsha, nee Goldman, Lipensky, until moving to Southern California in the mid-seventies were both native Chicagoans.

  

Marsha, a graduate of Roosevelt High School on the near north side of Chicago, graduated at the age of seventeen.

 

Now, near twenty-five hundred miles from Chicago, now, thirty-three years since graduating from Roosevelt High School.

                                                                                                        

Elysium Fields

Topanga Canyon, California

 Saturday, May 17, 1986

 1:40 PM

 

Now, near twenty-five hundred miles from Chicago! Now, thirty-three years since graduating from Roosevelt High School!

 

 Fully nude, but secure in the fact that she had complete anonymity...

 

Standing in the shallow end, water to her waist, “Mitchie,” Marsha Lipensky called, “I’m getting hungry, so whenever you want to go back...”

 

The one other person in the pool, a middle aged, extremely small busted, dark-haired woman who was standing chest deep in the water with her head held back accepting the mid-afternoons sun, upon hearing Marsha’s voice...

 

Straightening her body, looking to the right, her mouth dropping open... “Marsha?” the woman called, “Marsha Goldman?”

 

Hearing her name called, hearing her maiden name called, dropping to her knees, her eyebrows furling in question, Marsha looked at the woman that was now approaching.

 

“Marsha? It is you, isn’t it!”

 

“Uh,” feeling stupid on her knees, hesitantly standing with her arms crossed covering her brests, “Uh, yes.”

 

Still at the far end of the pool, uh, oh!  Knowing the only reason Marsha agreed to spending a day at a nude park was because no one would know her, so, uh, oh!  Mitchell thought as...

 

“Marcie! Oh, my God! I can’t believe it! You! Here?”

 

“Who? uh...”

 

“Marcie, it’s me! Evie Dorfmann!”

 

“ ‘Evie Dorfmann’?” Marsha questioned unbelievably, “from Roosevelt?”

 

“Yeah! Hi!” Hugging her. “I can’t believe it! Marcie Goldman, here!”

 

Never before being hugged while nude by another nude woman, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her head turned to her husband, Marsha, nee Goldman, Lipensky silently worded…

I’m going to kill you!”

 

  

©August 20, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

  


Web Site: mmlichterman.com  

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Reviewed by Annabel Sheila 8/22/2011
Hahahaha! That was bound to happen....it was going so well...giggle...well done, Mark!

Your friend,
Anna
Reviewed by Janna Hill 8/21/2011
.. I wait.
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 8/20/2011
Great story, Mark; well done!

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


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Mark M Lichterman



For Better or Worse

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Becoming

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