Nudist 4
Elysium Fields
Topanga, California
Sunday, May 11, 1986
11:10 AM
Glancing at Mitchell, nodding her head, the woman walked down the three steps, dunked herself in the semi-cool water, stood, and, water streaming in silver rivulets against her black skin, diving beneath, she swam the length of the pool. Reaching the far end, kicking off the wall, she swam at an angle mid-way across to the side wall where she could stand in water to her chest.
Only this dream from out the past and myself in the pool, my heart thumping, considering everyone I’d met so far at Elysium very friendly, hoping she'd be, too, “Hi,” I said, “ I’m Mitch.”
“Hi, Mitch,” Smiling, “I’m Lita.”
On opposite sides, both of us about midway between the deep and shallow ends, I swam to her.
“Lita,” holding my hand forward, “nice to meet you.”
Her smile broadening, “Yeah, Mitch, me, too.”
Her hand shaking mine, “Don’t meet too many naked people in swimming pools, too often, do you?” I asked.
Laughing, “No, not too many naked people,” adding, “too often.”
Closer to Lita, yes, she even had almond shaped eyes, and yes, she was even lovelier than when I’d seen her across the pool. “You belong here very long?” I asked.
Her hand motioning in the air, “Here?”
“At Elysium.”
“Today’s my first day.”
“Oh,” I said, looking for something to say, “you’ve one of those ‘one day trial things?”
“Yeah,” her eyes crinkling a bit, “and it’ll probably be my one and only day.”
“Why’s that? You don’t like it here?”
“Oh, no!” Looking about, “it’s beautiful here. but...”
Taking a chance, “but there’s not too many like you here?”
“ ‘Like me’?”
Uh, oh. Hope I didn't say the wrong thing. “Yeah,” having no where to go. “there’s not too many black people here.”
“Oh,” she said, a bit glumly, “you’ve noticed.”
Relieved, “yeah, I’ve noticed... That’s why today may be ‘your one and only day’?”
“Yes... That and that I’ve been here since nine this morning and you’re the only one that’s even talked to me.”
“Today’s only my second day here...”
“Really? I saw you walking across the field and you seem so much at ease being, uh, you know...”
She noticed me! “Naked? Nah,” My eyes drawn to her breasts, “I’m still nervous, but I met a couple yesterday and we spent the day together and they, kind of, helped me get at ease being this way.”
Her head tilting downward, looking to where my eyes were looking, at her chest. “Weren’t you afraid that seeing so many naked women that you’d... uh?”
Finishing her sentence, “Get horny? Yeah, I was, but there’s so many woman to look at that I couldn’t quite focus on any one...” Lita’s hanging breasts beneath the surface of the water, the areolae of her nipples tightened into twin black cones, “like, uh...?”
Evidently a physically visual place such as Elysium accelerated erotic emotions along, apparently, with things said to relative strangers that normally would not be said to relative strangers, along, also, with easily noticed penile erections.
Looking downward; slightly distorted by the gentle movement of the water, my, in my opinion, categorically average sized penis was also slightly magnified and easily visible in the clear water.
Finishing my sentence this time, “Like that?”
Following the downward motion of her eyes, positive I was blushing through my tan, “Well, yeah, Lita. I am, kind’a, focusing on you now. Sorry!”
“Don’t be!” Lita said forcibly. “I find it enlightening to actually be able to see what a man is really thinking, and also flattering.”
Oh, yeah! And I was finding it erotic as hell to be a few feet from this newly met, beautiful woman that was not only looking at my erected penis, albeit through rippling water, that actually thought it flattering that I even had an erection. Correction, by this time it was a stiff standing, raging ‘boner’!
“You married, Mitch?” she asked bluntly.
***
July 6, 1951
Chicago, Illinois
The ebony-colored girl was small, about five-three, and maybe fifteen years old. She had a thin, Caucasian nose with wide, flaring nostrils, sensuous—though not overly, by Mitchell’s standards—full lips and, for a girl her size, unusually large breasts. Her almond-shaped black eyes looking up from under long, thick lashes. “Hi.” she said.
That night, in bed, That wasn’t so bad, Mitchell thought.
Never having more than a fleeting contact with people of the Negro race, it was not as though he’d had any preconceived conceptions about Negroes—he’d had no conception at all, and not knowing is what had frightened him.
Those kids aren’t all that different from us. He further thought. Yeah, the way they talk is different, and they have different ideas about going to school and the way they live.
Not knowing that with most people prejudicial and economic conditions dictate the way they’re forced to live.
Ain’t nothing wrong with them! Mitchell concluded, They’re just kids with brown skin… And, God, that Lousy!
The dual thoughts of the dark intensity of her nipples and, if her pubic hair matched the tight nap of the hair on her head, Mitchell spent the next twenty minutes concocting a passionate, although totally impossible scenario where he and Louise, to the best of his imagination, were naked together and, shvartzer or not, yes indeed, they did have intercourse.
***
May 11, 1986
Topanga, California
Beautiful, absolutely beautiful; a grown up version of the fourteen or fifteen year old beautiful black girl that I, in my imagination, saw nude and made love to, that now, in real life was no more that three feet from me... fully nude.
My heart thumping, pumping – though I had no idea how much more could fit in there – I was sure my thumping heart was pumping more blood downward to what was by now an extremely – well, I was in a nudist park, after all – visible ‘boner’ And what, I ask, was I supposed to do with it, stuff it between my thighs?
“You married, Mitch?” she asked bluntly.
Glad for the diversion, my thoughts coming upward, ‘Am I married’? Other than a few curt words:
“Don’t give a damn if you ever come back!”
“Fine! Maybe I won’t!”
“Don’t threaten, Mitchell, do it!”
Thinking, We haven’t talked to each other for almost three weeks! We haven’t touched each other in about a month and haven’t made love in... God knows how long.
“My wife and me,” I said, at the moment truly thinking it true , “are separated.” Asking, “You?”
Taking a long moment to answer, “yes, me, too.” Lita’s expression souring, Charlie... my husband’s screwing around with another woman and that’s, kind of, why I’m here.”
Very surprised that a woman I met no longer than a few minutes ago was making this kind of an admission.
Although, truth be told, standing with ones erection poking onto one’s thigh could tend to make friends of strangers rather rapidly. “Your husband’s ‘fooling around’, that’s why you’re here, at Elysium?” I asked.
“Well, I was feeling rather insecure, which is something I’d never felt before, well, not as I do now, and thought I needed a change, to, uh, maybe see...”
If I were concocting a fantasy sexual scenario this could very easily be it.
Finishing her sentence again: “To see if you’re attractive enough to give a guy you just met a ‘boner’?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lowering her eyes, knowing she was looking at ‘it’ again, “a white guy.”
“ ‘A white guy’!” Laughing, “In case you hadn’t noticed,” holding my arm alongside hers, “I’m not such ‘a white guy’.”
If one were to equate color to a number: ten being black, Lita was probably an eight, and me? With the tan of my arm intensified by water, I’d probably rank as a six.
“Yeah,” Lita said. “But,” once again peering at my extended penis in the water, smiling now, “you’re not tan all over.”
Laughing again, “oh, okay!” Impulsively hugging her, “let me tell you, if that’s what you want, you sure found the right white guy!” Of course, feeling our cool, wet bodies held closely breast to breast, certainly didn’t hurt... “Because,” I said emphatically, “you sure gave this 'white guy' one hell of’a boner!”
My excitement mounting even further, rather than standing stiffly, I sensed Lita relaxing within the momentary hug.
Thinking of where I wanted this to go, of where I was hoping this would go... to one of the three rooms used, where, as Gwen had said: “Where people go when they feel themselves becoming very friendly; where they can have some privacy.” Then again, on the other hand, I was afraid that this really might lead to that room.
About this time a family of two adults along with a boy and girl aged about eight and ten splashed into the water.
“Where you sitting?” I asked.
Jerking her thumb over her shoulder to the right, “kind of opposite the tennis court.”
“Ah, that’s why I didn’t notice you. You want some company?”
“Thought, you’d never ask, Mitch.”
Leaving the pool to the splashing, rather noisy family, following Lita up the three steps, behind her now, I saw the smooth, deep depression between her waist and hips along, I might add, with, compared to the rest of her shapely body, fairly large buttocks and not too thin thighs... All of which, yes! I truly appreciated.
After spending the amount of time in a pool that I had, most men would come out with their penis’s shrunken into their pubis’s. However, now walking closely alongside the beautiful and beautifully statuesque Lita, oh, no! Although no longer sticking straight forward, there was no doubt that ‘I’ was still there, and rather than the embarrassment one would think I would be feeling walking through a field of people, whom, by the way, due to the fact that Lita was Negro and I Caucasian, having no doubt that we were watched, maybe even gawked at, embarrassment was not what I felt... rather pride.
Having retrieved my pannier along with the beach towel and brown bagged lunch, Lita on her back, me on my side, our bodies pleasantly drying in the mid-morning sun, Lita’s hair, cut to just above her shoulder’s – though at the time I had no idea this was done – had been straightened so now lay softly to either side of her face. Answering my two questions of lo, those many years ago, now out of the water, the areola of Lita’s quarter sized nipples were perfectly smooth and did have the intense darkness of her hair... Answering my second question, looking downward, the tightly curled hair there appearing to be course to the touch, “Lita.”
Turning her head, opening her eyes...
My head cupped in my hands, looking now at the darkness of her eyes, actually becoming lost in the darkness of Lita’s eyes...
“Mitch?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Lita, can I do something?”
Smiling, “If it doesn’t hurt, but in front of all of these people?”
Laughing, “It won’t hurt, I promise, but, uh...”
“What?”
“Can I touch you?”
Becoming serious, “I wouldn’t mind, but where?”
“Here,” motioning to her crotch, “I’d like to feel your hair there.”
Glancing about, seeing no one presently looking in our direction, “sure, I can understand why.”
Taking my hand, Lita placed it onto her pubic hair, and held it there longer than needed for my little investigation, as, closing my eyes at the thought of where my hand was, my heart again thumping, my penis again jumping, leaning forward, my lips touching her lips, her tongue parting my lips...
Oh, God! Not wanting to! But here in the open? Here, among possibly better than a hundred people” Here, now...
Knowing I’d...we’d better stop... now! Forcing my lips from her lips, my breathing harsh, my words difficult, “So... uh,” needing something to say, something to take my mind from where my mind had been. “So, uh, what do you do for a living?”
Catching her breath, quiet for a number of seconds, “Real Estate.”
Trying to calm, “really? Me, too!”
Turning now, on her side now, facing me, “Broker?” she asked.
“No, just an associate... You?”
“Yeah, me, too.” Lita said. “How long you’ve been doing it?”
Thinking a moment, “since seventy-four... You?”
“I got into it in eighty-two.”
“Rough times, huh?”
“Yeah. Well,” Lita said. “But we sure learned what ‘creative finance’ means.”
The recession of the late seventies, into the early eighties a thing of the past.
“Mitch...”
“Yeah, Lita?”
Her hand onto mine, “let’s go to a room.”
