Nudist 6: Uh, oh!
Elysium Fields
Topanga, California
Saturday, May 17, 1986
10:05 AM
Having no idea what to expect, walking into ‘Administration’, Gwen’s appearance surprising her, “Good morning,” Marsha said to the homely, rotund woman behind the desk wearing a caftan covered with pink flamingos.
“ ‘morning, Gwen. I’d like to sign my wife onto my membership.”
“Opening the deep side drawer, “Name again,” Gwen asked.
“Lipensky.”
“Ah, yeah. here you go... That’ll be another seventy-five.”
Mitchell didn’t tell Marsha that she could spend the day at Elysium with a ten dollar guest membership because he felt, if it only cost ten dollars, she might not want to come back, but spending seventy-five dollars would be a different matter.
“Hands!”
“Hands?”
Looking at her husband, Mitchell explained, “ultra-violet waterproof hand stamp so they know only those that belong here are here.”
“Oh.” Marsha said.
“You want to show your wife around?”
“After we park, Gwen, thanks.”
***
Walking from the parking lot into the park area, at this time of day on a warm, Southern California morning, dozens of people having staked their little square of Elysium, it took Marsha a number of moments until she realized they were all nude and a sense of surrealism came to her... She saw what she saw, but the living concept of Elysium was so contrary to all she’d ever know that for a few moments the sight of dozens of fully nude people refused to meld into her conscious mind.
“Come on, baby,” leading her by the hand, “let’s stay here, okay?” Hoping not to be recognized because of Lita’s rapid departure, Mitchell went far beyond the spot he’d sat last week.
Dropping the picnic basket, taking either sides of the blanket, they spread it onto the grass.
Kicking his shoes off, “le’me get undressed and I’ll show you around.”
Watching, actually watching disbelievingly as her husband took his clothes off. Marsha then removed her shorts and blouse reveling a two piece bathing suit beneath.
Feeling strange walking alongside of a naked man, even if that naked man was her husband...
“Come on!” Taking her hand, they walked to the large building opposite ‘Administration’ . Going inside, he explained the three rooms ‘where people go when they feel themselves becoming very friendly; where they can have some privacy.’ Outside again, the two ‘year round’ live in apartments and the swimming pool, then, cutting across the field, to the upper area and the Jacuzzi.
***
11:53 AM
Sitting up, ‘people watching’... One of Marsha’s favorite things was to ‘people watch’, and what better place to really people watch than a nudist camp, however, now the watcher of people sensed she was being watched.
Looking to her side, at her husband laying flat out becoming even tanner... without tan lines. “Mitchie, I’m feeling really conspicuous.”
Sitting up, “Marcie,” looking around, “there’s got to be, what? A hundred people here all naked... and you, in a bathing suit. So who do you think’s going to catch their eyes? Who do you think people are going to see?”
“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 are.”
“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.” Hesitating, Marsha removed the top.
“See," Mitchell said, "it’s not too bad.”
Sitting up with her knees cocked hiding her chest, “no, not too bad.”
Holding her shoulders, forcing Marsha onto her back, her breasts flattening across her chest, “relax,” Mitchell said, “you’re beautiful!”
Laying for a while, “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.
Truth be told, at age fifty, Marsha Lipensky was still a beautiful woman.
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.
Tall: five seven and a half; one of those, enviable, eternally thin women; though on the soft side with faded stretch marks...
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 large, dark areola...
Having his wife with him to share the beauty here 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.” Bringing his lips to hers, they kissed.
At the times of their anger; Marsha’s anger triggering his anger, their dislike of one the other was a deeply felt emotion. At the times of their love; at the times when Marsha’s blood sugar levels were not sea-sawing, when tired she could actually sleep, her love triggering Mitchell’s love, their love of one the other was a deeply felt emotion.
This being the reason neither sought divorce: At times both felt they could not live with each other; however – this the reason Mitchell hesitated when invited to have intercourse with Lita – though at times both felt they could not live with each other, both knew they could not live without each 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 laying since removing her bathing suit, now, 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. 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, 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.
***
“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, 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...
***
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.
***
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, 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, drooping 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, “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, Goldman, Lipensky silently worded, “I’m going to kill you!”
