PIT #11: Evie

Points In Time

woodland Hills, California

Saturday, May 17, 1986

8:34 a.m.

“So you’re sure now?” He asked while slathering cream cheese over one half of a toasted bagel, then spooning a heaping tablespoon of orange marmalade onto it.

Feeling a bit queasy over her discussion, yet at the same time elicited also…

Tipping the frying pan, the three ‘sunny side up’ eggs slipped onto her husbands dish to lay alongside two pork sausage paddies.

Putting a pad of butter into the sizzling frying pan, Marsha cracked two eggs and watched as they began to fry.

Bored with her everyday, day in and day out ‘sameness’, she had been vacillating over her decision this past week.

Needing a change…

‘Needing’ some kind of a change...

“If you promise that I don’t have to get all undressed…” she said half-heartedly “...yeah, I guess.”

Looking at his wife over the rim of his coffee cup, swallowing. “Yes! I told you, Marcie, it’ll be completely up to you.”

Knowing his wife, whole-heartedly wanting to avoid a future confrontation over this.

“I’d love it if you come with me, but it’s ‘got’ to be ‘your decision’!”

Putting the cup down, using the edge of his fork, Mitchell cut into one of the sausage paddies.

Marsha watched the outer edges of her frying eggs began to turn crispy brown...

Elysium Fields

Topanga, California

Saturday, May 17, 1986

10:05 a.m.

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.

“Good morning!”

“ ‘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 hadn’t told Marsha 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 whole different matter’.

Writing a check, he handed it across the counter.

“Hands!”

“Hands?”

Looking at his wife. “Ultra-violet waterproof hand stamp…” Mitchell explained “...so they know only those that belong here are here.”

The queasy sensation never leaving. “Oh.” Marsha said.

“You want to show your wife around?”

“After we get our stuff, 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 Fields, standing stock still it took Marsha a number of moments until she realized they were all nude and a sense of surrealism came to her...

Marsha saw what she saw. But the living concept of Elysium was so contrary to all she’d ever known that for those few moments the sight of dozens of fully nude people refused to register and 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 along with the possibility that she might return on this day, Mitchell went far beyond the spot he’d sat with her last week.

Dropping the picnic basket, taking either sides of the blanket, they spread it onto the grass on the far side of the of Ken and Sandy’s tree, that at this time of day was in full shade.

Kicking his shoes off. “le’me get undressed and I’ll show you around.”

Watching. Actually watching disbelievingly as her husband took all of his clothes off… In public!

Marsha then removed her shorts and blouse reveling a two piece bathing suit beneath.

“Come on!” Taking her hand, they walked to the large building opposite ‘Administration’.

Feeling strange walking among all of these naked people.

Feeling even stranger walking alongside of a naked man — walking among all of these naked people even if that naked man was her husband...

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. Pointing out the three ‘year round’ live in apartments and the swimming pool that now contained seven or eight nude people, causing Marsha to blush and turn away. Then cutting across the field, to the upper area and the Jacuzzi that no one was in at the time.

11:03 a.m.

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.

Seeing men, realizing that her husband was no less muscled than most of the men she saw… And certainly had no smaller penis than most… and most certainly was far handsomer than all the men she studied…

Although then there were those few men with truly long— As they walked by… there were those few men with truly long swinging penises that — reviving the long buried memory of old ‘Nate’ exposing himself, gave Marsha Lipensky a cold nauseous twitch in her stomach and…

One arm covering his eyes from the glare of the sun...

...Looking to her side, at her husband laying flat out— with possibly three inches of exposed flaccid penis lying limply onto his thigh…

Looking at her husband laying flat out becoming even tanner… without tan lines, sensing a warm twitch in her uterus

“Mitchie, I’m feeling really conspicuous.”

Sitting up. “Marcie...” looking about “...there’s got to be, what? Possibly fifty or sixty people here all naked... And you, in a bathing suit. So who do you thinks going to catch their eyes? Who do you think people are going to notice?

“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.”

Thinking, That’s for sure!

“Hey, baby…” he said “... 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.”

Her knees cocked, somewhat hiding her now fully nude chest. Although actually enjoining the sensation of sun warmed air on her breasts and especially her sensitive nipples.

“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.

A beautiful woman that had been afflicted with the heretofore practically unknown ‘bipolar syndrome’ since the age of eighteen.

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 old enough and well 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 pubic hair trimmed to a fine triangle, Marsha had a flat stomach, moderately sized breasts with large, dark brown areola…

Having his wife with him to share this beauty 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 unknown ‘bipolar’ 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 ‘with out’ each other.

12:o5 p.m.

The temperature rising.

“Mitchie...” sitting up “...it’s getting hot. Want to go to the pool?”

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

Sitting or laying since completely 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 appearance knowing, for a man of fifty-two her deeply tanned husband was 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.

12: 40 p.m.

“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, dark complected 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 early seventies were both native Chicagoan's.

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.

Now...

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. dark complected 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!”

In the meantime, the name ‘Dorfmann’ ringing a bell in the brain of Marsha Lipensky’s husband.

 Next PIT#12: The Group