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Petition

By: slyc_willie



(Author's note: The following tale is an official submission to the 2013 Literotica Earth Day story contest. The idea for this one came to me while watching late-night TV, and I ended up writing half of it that first night. Feel free to leave a comment at the end if you wish, put please, don't forget to vote on this and all the Earth Day submissions.)

* * * *

I stared at Kit with a mixture of disbelief and intrigue following her suggestion. "You want to what?"

She giggled, sitting back in the hand-me-down recliner in my apartment. "I'm serious. Earth Day is all about nature and the environment, right?"

I crossed my arms with a smirk. "So you want to walk around naked to raise awareness," I said.

She grinned. Kit and I had been best friends since middle school, back when she was a gangly, pimple-faced kid known to everyone as 'Katie.' Her new nickname had blossomed along with her beauty during high school, as she emerged more and more from her shell. Now that we were both in college, Kit's natural sexiness was an occasionally alarming thing.

"Look, Kevin," she said in that tone that told me she had already made up her mind and was not about to change it. "Professor Avery said that he would give extra credit for the final if we did something 'truly original, creative and effective' to raise awareness over a particular issue. You may not need an extra twenty points, Mr. Four Point Oh, but I'm borderline."

I cocked my head. "But isn't this a little crazy?"

She gave me a sarcastic look. "When have I ever done anything crazy?"

"Exactly. You don't do crazy things. I'm the one who goes cliff diving, and hang gliding, and goes to nude beaches."

"Yeah, I know. Crazy Kev," she grumbled. "Anyway, about my Earth Day idea," she prompted.

"We could never do it," I said. "There's this thing called public indecency. You want to get arrested and thrown in jail with a bunch of butch lesbians?"

She actually seemed to consider the idea. "Don't they have any lipstick lesbians in jail?"

An exasperated huff escaped me.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," she said with a laugh. "Why are you so against this, anyway? You're the exhibitionist. I'd think you'd take any opportunity to let your personality hang out for all to see."

She had a point there. As high school seniors, Kit and I and several of our friends went to a nude beach on the Gulf coast for Spring Break. No one else was willing to take it all off except me, and that first exploration into the world of exhibitionism had been exhilarating, to say the least. I had since made that nude beach something of a second home from May to September, heading down there just about every weekend.

That simple affectation had seen the end of many a relationship, and, I always suspected, kept Kit from being more than just a friend. I simply knew, after the way she looked at me that first time, that she would never accept a nudist lifestyle, even if it was occasional. Kit was just too conservative.

Until now.

I fixed her a look. "It can't be done. Not legally, anyway."

Kit grinned and lifted up in the chair as she reached for the phone in her back pocket. "Au contraire," she quipped, tapping on the screen. "Read this."

I caught the phone with suspicion blooming in my mind. Kit had saved what appeared to be part of an article from some government website. I started reading as Kit waited patiently . . . for about fifteen seconds.

"Basically, what it says is that any individual or agency can, quote, 'adopt alternative or objectionable clothing or even lack of clothing for the purpose of demonstration.'"

I gave my friend a wan look. "Why am I not surprised that you memorized it?"

"Just that part," she said, getting up from the recliner. "Seriously, we can do this. And I'm not just pushing for it 'cause I got a wild hair up my but to do something freaky. I mean, think about it. If a hot naked chick asked you to sign a petition to save the whales or something, you wouldn't even think twice."

"Okay, I see your point," I said with a laugh. "But if we're really gonna do this, we'd have to submit an official permit request to whatever government agency handles that kind of thing, and it would probably help to get Professor Avery to sign off on it, too."

A new, excited grin flashed across Kit's face. "So we're gonna do it?" she asked with all the hopeful energy of a child half her age.

"Just . . . think seriously about it first," I cautioned her. "Something like this will probably make the news. There'll be people who will take pictures or video of it. Ten years from now, is this gonna cause a problem?"

Kit soured a moment, and started to speak, but held back. For a moment, cold rationality appeared to take precedence over her exuberance. "All right, I get what you're saying," she admitted at last. "But this isn't like making a home-grown porn flick or anything that gets leaked out. Famous people get naked on beaches all over the place, and it doesn't hurt them, so why should it mean beans to a couple of college students?"

"That's the other thing," I told her. "If we want this to be taken seriously, we're gonna need more people willing to . . . go au naturale. The more we get, the better chance we have."

Kit thought a moment. "Well . . . I bet I could get Deanna to do it," she said.

The suggestion made me arch an eyebrow. I knew Deanna. While I did not consider myself a breast man, I was nevertheless impressed by her endowments, especially since she had a penchant for wearing tight clothing of rather thin fabric. "It can't just be girls, you know. I might be able to ask a couple of my friends, too."

Kit shot me a warning look. "Just not Bill, okay?" she asked with a look of disgust. "The dude's, like, your height but three hundred pounds. I'd probably heave if I saw him naked."

I frowned. "To be honest, I think Bill would be perfect," I said with a bit of annoyance. "It would be awfully hypocritical if we only wanted skinny naked people asking for signatures."

Kit looked suitably admonished. "Okay, okay . . . you're right. But he better not hit on me. He smells like bean burritos."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll make sure he showers first."

"Now, about the location," she prompted.

"It would have to be a place where there are no kids," I insisted.

She smirked knowingly. "I know just the place."

* * * *

It shouldn't have surprised me that Kit had already scouted a location. She never did anything halfway, and if she told me she "had an idea" about something, that usually meant she had already begun planning it.

Under her direction, I drove us to one of the malls in the city, which lay just off the main inner loop. It was a busy place, having been built up just a few years earlier with a new string of outdoor shops on two concrete levels. The fact that the area was so public made me both nervous and a bit excited. How could we parade naked around here?

We parked, then headed toward a broad set of stairs that lead to a theater on the second floor of the outdoor mall. I understood instantly why Kit had selected the place. The theater served alcohol, and it was framed by a bar to one side and a comedy club to the other; all three of the establishments had age requirements of twenty-one and up. The three businesses formed a nice open courtyard which was only visible if you went up the stairs.

As far as controlling the environment for our little demonstration, this was pretty choice. There wouldn't be any families, certainly no kids, and for the most part, people heading to one of three establishments that served alcohol would be less likely to be disgusted or appalled by the sight of naked men and women than if they were to, say, be going to church.

"So, am I smart, or am I smart?" Kit asked proudly as she stood in the middle of the courtyard.

I shook my head with a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, you're a friggin' genius," I told her, then snapped my fingers. "If you can convince all three of the business owners, not to mention the property manager, to go along with it."

She suddenly pecked my lips with her own. "That's your job," she said, jabbing her index fingers at me. "You're the pitch master. Write something up that'll knock their socks off, then we can pitch it to them together." She effected a bad but somewhat recognizable New York accent. "We'll make 'em an offah they can't refuse."

For a moment, I just stared at Kit, wondering once again, as I often had throughout our years of friendship, if there was the possibility of something more between us. Kit had almost always had a boyfriend, and I had always been the consoling friend when those relationships came to an end. And while we had seen each other naked at various times, the most we had ever done was kiss, and those had always been fairly chaste. Still, every time her lips touched mine, it made me wonder.

But we saw life differently; in fact, I always assumed that eventually, we would go our separate ways, with Kit settling down with a husband and kids in suburbia and me buying an old camper van to cruise the country.

I banished those wandering thoughts as I focused on the task at hand. I took a deep breath and thought for a minute. If we pull this off . . . .

I couldn't help but grin.

* * * *

Even with the benefit of several speech classes and the gift of natural charisma, I still felt the butterflies tickling my stomach whenever it came to delivering any kind of proposal. Given the circumstances in which I was about to speak, I was doubly nervous. But I knew I would make it work. What I didn't know was how the idea would be received.

Through a string of phone calls and email that spanned several business days, I had managed to coordinate the presence of the property manager for the mall, as well as the business owners in question, to a single afternoon on Friday, about two weeks before the Earth Day event.

"Would you stop with the jitters?" Kit asked me in a hushed voice as we waited in the lobby of the theater. The place opened at five o'clock, and was therefore perfect for a three pm meeting.

I stopped my pacing and gave Kit a sheepish smile. "Just going over the presentation in my head," I said. "I think better when I pace."

"Well, you're making me nervous," she protested.

I chuckled. "No I'm not. You're already nervous." I looked her over. Kit wore a short denim dress with snaps down the front that hugged her slender figure nicely. I had specifically requested that she wear it.

She inhaled deeply, staring at me. "Okay, so what. This is my grade, buster."

My eyes narrowed. "That's not what this is about," I said. "Whether you get an A or a B in this class, you're still gonna graduate cum laude. So this grade doesn't really matter."

"Says you," she shot back.

I approached her with a single step. "What's going on?" I asked. "Why is this so important for you?"

Her narrow shoulders rose and fell as she breathed. Her eyes were dewy as she looked up at me. "It just is," she said, her voice sounding more timid and genuine than I had ever heard. "This can be something really . . ." she paused a moment, eyes darting away as she gathered her thoughts. ". . . something really special. Really memorable. That one thing that I can always look back on and say I did it right."

I frowned. "By being naked in public?" I asked.

Kit huffed and rolled her eyes. "I really hope, by the time this is over, that you'll understand why I wanted to do this."

Behind me, I heard a man's voice. "Mr. Landry? Are you ready?"

My eyes were still on Kit. "I hope so, too," I told her.

* * * *

". . . which is why the importance of Earth Day is something that can't be ignored. Every year, awareness grows and the exposure increases. Everything now is 'green.' Green cars, green energy, green food, green businesses. Any business that supports green agendas is a step ahead of the game. And we aren't asking for anything other than the use of your space. No donations, no investments, nothing. All we basically want is your blessing to solicit signatures for a petition to make Earth Day a nationally-recognized holiday. That's it."

I finished my presentation and Kit switched off the PowerPoint in the small theater. The lights came back on, illuminating the seven people seated in the front row. Five were middle-aged men; two were middle-aged women. They all looked, at the best, somewhat interested and at the worst, annoyed that they had sacrificed an hour out of their day for this.

"Mr. Landry," said Charles Jimenez, the property manager of this part of the mall. "That was a very, um, compelling show. I agree that Earth Day is an important celebration. I'm just a little confused about something. You could have done all this through email. Why gather us here together?"

Throughout the presentation, I had suppressed my nerves, but now they came raging back like an inferno in my belly. I made the supreme effort to remain as casual, confident, and professional as I could as I faced the seven people in the audience.  

"Because there's a hitch," I said.

They exchanged glances. One of the women spoke up. "I hope you aren't going to ask for money," she said.

I chuckled. "No, as I already said, all we want is the use of the courtyard space," I told her. I glanced to Kit, who stood off to the side, having been in charge of the PowerPoint. She looked back to me with an expression of both nervousness and excitement.

"It's how we want to use the space that requires a little extra . . . understanding," I said, and motioned to Kit.

My friend hesitated only briefly, then stepped toward me with light clips of her shoes on the polished wooden surface of the small stage. All seven pairs of eyes in the audience were on her as she approached the end of the stage. With more casualness than I would have expected, and even a bit of burlesque flair, Kit jerked apart her blue denim dress amid a rapid series of popping brass snaps and shrugged the garment from her shoulders. As I had asked, she wore absolutely nothing beneath.

I held back chuckles as eyes popped and breaths were held. The intent gazes of seven men and women were riveted to my sexy friend's beautiful body, as I hoped they would be.

"Earth Day is about nature," I stressed. "It is about looking past the trappings of technology and civilization and getting down to the basics of humanity. What better way to illustrate this than by appearing as we were naturally intended?"

For several moments, the seven members of the audience alternately stared at Kit's naked body and exchanged curious looks. Most of the men squirmed in their seats -- for various reasons, I assumed -- while one of the women smiled thinly and the other narrowed her gaze in a contemplative way.

"Are you saying that you are both going to be, um, like this?" asked the second of the two women. She was the part owner of the comedy club, I knew.

"There are going to be six of us," I said. "And yes, we intend to be naked."

"I'm not sure about this," said one of the men. "I mean, hey, nice view, but what about the legal aspect?"

"We've already been approved for the permit," I said, holding up the paperwork. "So long as we conduct ourselves appropriately, we are not breaking any laws. This building is more than a thousand feet from any school, and there won't be any children coming around. We will even have a representative of the police department on hand to keep things orderly."

Another man laughed. "So this is legal?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded. "In this context, yes."

Murmurs and comments rumbled between them. Kit glanced back to me, her cheeks ruddy with what I knew to be a combination of excitement and nerves. I gave her a wink; she smiled and winked back, remaining where she was, proudly nude with her hands on her hips. I had to hand it to her; for my straight-laced friend, the fact that she had gone even this far was a surprise. I could not help but admire her nude beauty. Kit was one of those women who truly looked better without clothes. She possessed lightly tanned skin, toned limbs, a flat stomach, and by far the most incredible ass I had ever beheld upon such a slightly-built woman.

"What kind of benefit can we expect from this?" asked the female co-owner of the comedy club.

I was ready for this. In fact, I had hoped for such a question. With a quick nudge to Kit, I sent her back to the rolling trolley upon which my laptop had been set.

The lights dimmed again, and the towering screen behind me was filled with the image of hundreds of naked men and women walking along an avenue in the mid-day sun. "Have any of you have heard about the Nude Day celebrations in San Francisco?" I asked rhetorically. "The most recent was last year, and literally thousands of participants turned out. More importantly than that, but businesses along the streets where the parade was held enjoyed as much as a three hundred percent increase in revenue, just for the single day the celebration lasted."

Raised eyebrows and favorable nods were exchanged by my audience, and I continued. "While we don't expect such a dramatic response, it can hardly be expected that your businesses would suffer. Once word gets out, it will be the talk of the town. You'll enjoy greater exposure, higher revenue, and earn for yourselves a place in the history books as the most progressive businesses in city history."

I stepped to the end of the stage and gave them my best penetrating look. "Now tell me, how much is that worth to you?"

* * * *

"Holy shit, you did it!" squealed Kit as we left the theater half an hour later. She jumped into my arms and pressed her lips to mine in one of the most soulfully sincere kisses she had ever given me.

I tried not to think that the tips of my fingers, as I cupped her denim-clad cheeks, were within an inch of her naked genitals. "I guess you can say I was inspired," I told her. "You were magnificent."

She made a "pfft!" sound and rolled her eyes. "All I did was take my clothes off."

"Which tipped the scales," I said, looking into her eyes. "This was both of us; we did this together."

For a moment, Kit's soft pink lips parted moistly and she gave me a smile of pure affection. Then she pushed away and hopped down, landing on her feet. "We're gonna do a lot more together," she said with a wicked smile.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

* * * *

With everything in order -- permission from the business and property owners, permission from the city, permission from the police department, and all other attendant sundries taken care of -- all that was left was the waiting game. Kit and I went to our Sociology class every week but shared none of the details with our classmates concerning our upcoming Earth Day event. That was not an easy task for Kit to fulfill, since she was often in the habit of bragging. And in fact, those fellow students of ours who had shared classes with Kit before took her reticence at discussing our Earth Day event as some kind of threat; obviously, if she was hiding something and not bragging about it, it must have been something really, really good.

If they only knew.

As the fateful weekend loomed closer and closer, the anxiety accumulated, compounded when I received a call from one of the local television stations.

"Hello?"

The voice of the woman on the other end was breathy and energetic. "Hi! May I speak with Kevin Landry, please?"

". . . I'm Kevin," I said guardedly.

"Oh, good! Mr. Landry, my name is Theresa Cortes with KWAC Channel Twelve Action News. How are you doing today?"

I chuckled. "I'm doing just fine," I said. "How are you?"

"Just peachy," the woman said with an airy laugh. "Mr. Landry, I'm guessing you know why I'm calling."


Petition



"I have an idea."

"Well, we got wind here of your group's planned demonstration, and I was wondering if you had a moment to share your thoughts with us."

"What do you want to know?"

"I would think the obvious question is about the nature of your demonstration," the woman said. "Our understanding is that you and your group plan to be, eh, how shall I say it--"

"Naked?"

She laughed through the phone. "Thank you for not making me come right out and say it. So, it's true?"

"Absolutely," I said. "We have all the permits and everything."

"Ah, okay . . . um, Mr. Landry, I have to ask, what brought you and your group to decide to conduct this event in this way?"

"Why not?" I asked in return. I found myself speaking very fluidly, more comfortably than normal. "Environmental awareness is something we think everyone should get into. But not many people, it seems, are willing to show their support. So why not put ourselves out there, expose ourselves, if you will, and garner some support? When it all comes down to it, I think this is a classic case of the ends justifying the means."

There was a pause on the other end. "That's . . . a very interesting way to put it, Mr. Landry. May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"I'd like to cover the event with my camera crew, if that would be alright. Of course, we would, um, edit our footage accordingly."

A laughed spilled from my lips. "I think you would have to."

"Right. Of course. But, um, I'd like an exclusive interview with you as well," she said. "Would that be alright?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Well, this wasn't originally my idea, so I think it would be best to interview my partner in this as well."

"Oh, sure! What's his name?"

"Her name," I corrected.

* * * *

It was a surreal moment, to be certain. The six of us stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the courtyard. For the following four hours, we would all be naked in a public environment. The imminence of the situation had me almost visibly trembling with both excitement and apprehension.

I turned about and addressed the others. Apart from Kit, there was her friend Deanna, a pale-skinned redhead with impressive breasts; Tanya, a slender girl with mixed Black/Hispanic/Asian heritage who wore her kinky jet hair in tightly-rolled dreadlocks; and Letty, Hispanic and petite, with long dark hair that reached past her waist.

On the male side of the coin was myself and my lifelong friend Bill, who was so round and stout that he looked like a hairy, life-sized teddy bear. I had to hand it to the guy for being so willing and exuberant about the experience that was about to unfold; he had to know that most women did not exactly find him attractive, yet he was willing to let it all hang out -- literally -- for this event.

"Last chance to back out," I offered, looking the others over.

They all exchanged glances. A few nervous giggles floated through the air. Kit was ruddy-faced with anticipation. But no one backed off.

"Okay. Let's go."

We headed up the steps, which seemed to me to have doubled in length over the previous few weeks. I lugged the folding table, Kit carried a box filled with Earth Day awareness fliers, Letty hefted a large sign on an easel, and Bill toted a large plastic tub in which we would all place our clothing and valuables. Lastly, Tanya had a case of bottled water and some snacks. We had everything we needed.

I had feared that there would have been some sort of advanced warning to the locals, and that a crowd would have gathered in anticipation of seeing a group of college kids naked. But aside from a few dozen people milling about before the opening of the theater, there were only two people awaiting us, standing out from the crowd thanks to a very prominent uniform on one's behalf.

Charles Jimenez approached with a wary smile. "Kevin," he said, offering his hand when he was a few paces away. He indicated the tall man beside him. "I was just going over the basics with Officer Paden."

I shook hands with Mr. Jimenez and smiled at Paden. I had known him for years, when he was just the older brother of one of my friends. He had been hesitant about being our security for the event, but I knew he had long had the hots for Deanna and the temptation of seeing her in the nude was too powerful for him to resist.

"You really want to do this, Kevin?" he asked me.

I laughed and set down the table. "Do you?"

He just rolled his eyes, but helped us get set up. I could feel the nervous tension in the air. The girls kept looking around at the meandering crowd, who had no idea as to what was about to unfold, and shared crooked smiles.

"All right," I said at last, looking upon the table with its fliers spread out. The large sign was already garnering attention, with the words "EARTH DAY 2013" in large, neon green letters, surrounded by flower stickers.

Kit's face was glowing with excitement. "Ready?"

The others all watched me, waiting for a cue. No one wanted to be the first to get naked.

I gave my friend a nod, then casually pulled my shirt over my head. I could already feel eyes upon me before I even reached for the waistband of my shorts. As soon as those dropped to the ground, leaving me in nothing but tennis shoes, there were some gasps and muffled comments.

Those were drowned out by a noticeable hubbub of interested comments as the girls disrobed. Like me, they had chosen to wear clothing that was quick to come off and on. And off it all came, with the girls' faces becoming more and more red as they stripped down. Dozens of pairs of eyes drank in the sight of four naked girls and two naked men. Most of the attention, of course, was on the girls.

"Earth Day two thousand thirteen!" yelled Kit, bouncing up and down on her white Skechers. Her small but firm breasts jiggled nicely. As was her norm, she had shaved off her dark pubic hair, leaving her mound smooth and bare. Kit was one of those women with rather prominent labia, which were noticeable even when she stood.

"Whoo!" echoed Deanna, large, milky round breasts wobbling like moons in orbit. I had always wondered if she was a natural redhead, and my suspicions were now confirmed by the rather abundant orange-hued tuft of hair between her thighs. "Increase Earth Day awareness! Sign our petition to make Earth Day a national holiday!"

A look toward Paden had me chuckling. His eyes followed Deanna's movements with interest and longing. Judging from the way she winked and grinned at him, she was well aware of his attraction for her.

"Earth Day! Earth Day! Earth Day!" chanted Bill, gloriously nude in all his impressive roundness. He grinned as he clapped along with his words. Tanya and Letty joined him, also clapping and calling attention to themselves.

I was mildly surprised to see that Tanya had both of her dark, chocolate-colored nipples pierced with glittering silver hoops, and a matching ring dangled from the hood of her clitoris. Like Kit, she was smooth-shaved. In contrast, Letty's skin was lighter in tone but still had that natural bronzed tint to it. Her pubic hair was trimmed to the shape of a 'V.' Tattoos covered her right arm from shoulder to elbow in a sleeve, and another -- a classic sacred heart surrounded by barbed wire -- decorated the flesh above her petite breasts.

The milling crowd cautiously gathered closer, broad grins upon many a face. The presence of a uniformed officer gave as an obvious measure of legality, telling the crowd that what we were doing was okay.

"What's going on?" one man asked as he stepped forward from the crowd.

"We're raising awareness for Earth Day," Kit responded, as casual as could be in her nudity. I was impressed with how natural she acted. "Do you know what it is?"

"Uh . . ." His eyes wandered down Kit's lovely form. "I've heard of it . . . ."

She handed him one of the leaflets from the table. "Here," she said. "Some light reading for you. Basically, Earth Day is about our environment, our resources, and the impact we, as individual human beings, have on the planet. Would you like to sign our petition to make Earth Day an official US holiday?"

The man chuckled, glancing around at the buffet of nude flesh. "Honey, I'll do just about anything a hot naked woman asks me to do," he said, taking Kit's offered pen.

She grinned as the man signed. "Thank you! Happy Earth Day!" She moved on to the next, clipboard in hand. The rest of us followed suit.

A middle-aged woman approached me with another, younger woman whom I assumed was her daughter in tow. "Is this some kind of naturist campaign?" she asked me.

I smiled. "Not so much naturist as environmentalist," I told her. Over the woman's shoulder, her daughter, who was about my age, was rather timidly trying to sneak glances of my crotch. "We're raising awareness for Earth Day."

Her eyes drifted down my torso for a moment before popping back up to my face with a wry smile. "Oh, you're raising something, all right," she commented, then took the pen I held out for her.

Off to one side, Bill was laughing along with a small group of people as they signed his clipboard. Tanya and Letty seemed to be working in tandem, not minding the ogles and comments their naked bodies earned from the men and women around them.

And, of course, there were the pictures. Some people just stood back, snapping shots of us without coming forward, others wanted pictures with a hot naked girl . . . or guy. I posed for a few myself, including one with a couple of gay men who made some almost embarrassing comments. They, of course, signed my clipboard.

Within half an hour, we had over thirty signatures, accounting for around half of the people we saw in the courtyard. Not a bad percentage at all.

"Looks like we're a hit," I said to Kit during a lull in the activity.

She grinned. "You're loving this, I know," she said, looking me over briefly. "Not that I'm complaining about the view. You always did look good naked."

"Now, don't start giving me ideas," I warned her.

For a response, Kit simply arched an eyebrow and made a noncommittal noise before brushing her smooth hip against my leg and stepping away.

* * * *

After the theater and comedy club opened for business, the crowd grew exponentially. Some had already learned of our presence, and had come to see what the fuss was about, but others were shocked -- some pleasantly, others with genuine affront -- when they saw us. A couple of people approached Officer Paden to demand to know why we weren't being arrested.

"They have the right to be here," he said to them. "I'm here to make sure everything remains orderly."

"It's disgusting!" one woman cried before she dragged her husband back to the steps. "God made us ashamed of our bodies for a reason!"

Such reactions were in the extreme minority, though. While not everyone approached us, they at least looked, and our clipboards became filled with signatures. The six of us became more comfortable in our nudity, to the point where I sometimes forgot that I didn't have pockets or some other place to put my pen.

A few somewhat rowdy men exited the bar at one point and jeered at the girls, begging them to "Flash that gash! Flash that gash!" But a couple of menacing steps from Officer Paden put an end to that.

And then, of course, Theresa Cortes and her cameraman showed up, about two hours into it. The large shoulder-mounted camera was difficult to miss as it appeared above the top of the stairs, especially once the light snapped on. Theresa Cortes herself was very professionally dressed in a white skirt suit, with her hair elegantly coiffed and makeup touched up. She saw me right away and all but plowed her way through the crowd to get to me.

"I didn't think it would be hard to find you," she commented, not bothering to conceal her interest in my dangling penis. She smiled up at me and offered her hand. "I'm--"

"Theresa Cortes," I said. "WMAC Channel Twelve Action News. I know."

Her teeth glowed perfectly. "My reputation precedes me!" she exclaimed with a short laugh I was sure she had practiced many times before. "Quite the turnout," she commented with a quick look around. "You picked a choice location."

"That was all my co-organizer's doing," I said, beckoning to my partner in crime. She bounded over with a grin, sliding up beside me.

"This is Theresa Cortes, the reporter I told you about. Miss Cortes, Katherine Arlington."

"Call me Kit." My friend gave me a dubious look. "They're gonna show this on the news?"

"Oh, it'll be blurred out," interjected the cameraman quickly. The broad grin on his face was obvious. He could not seem to take his eyes of Kit. "I mean, they'll be blurred out. Your, um, your, uh . . . parts. I mean, they'll pixelate everything. Well, not everything, just the good parts. I-I mean--"

"Just get them from the shoulders up, John," Theresa said in an annoyed voice over her shoulder.

"Yes ma'am."

"Uh, this isn't going to be live, is it?" I asked.

The reporter's eyes bulged. "Oh, hell no!" she blurted, then laughed. "Last thing my producers want is your big dick swinging back and forth on everyone's TV. Even if it is blurred out."

Beside me, Kit snorted in mirth. "Might get your ratings up," she commented.

Theresa arched a brow as she once more ogled my penis. "In a more liberal time, maybe," she said, then shot me a smile. I forced a smile back, feeling some heat in my cheeks. The way this woman spoke about me was the way I had heard most guys speak about women. It felt strange to be a physical object.

"Okay, so, you ready to do it?"

Her question snapped me back to the moment. "I'm sorry?" I asked, but then her question filtered through and I blushed with self-admonishment. "Oh, sure. Let's get this show on the road."

* * * *

After the token preening to make sure her hair looked just right, Theresa faced her cameraman as the four of us stood off to the side of the courtyard. Our Earth Day table was still swarmed, yet there was enough attention given to Kit and I as we awaited the reporter's interview. A small group kept their distance, watching through either eyes or camera lenses, as Theresa began.

"Good evening. Earth Day has been around for more than forty years," the reporter informed, holding her microphone in that 'on-the-scene' way as she spoke to the camera. "But it's passage every year rarely involves much fanfare for our city. In this age of green technology and supposed awareness, it seems ironic that little attention is paid to the one day out of the year in which the planet we live on is given due credit. Well, today, we have a group of people who are trying to change that, and bring the literal naked truth to the rest of the world."

Not bad, I thought, feeling impressed by Theresa's words. Not bad at all.

John the cameraman followed Theresa as she moved so that Kit and I -- from the shoulders up, of course -- came into view. "Kevin Landry and Katherine Arlington, local sociology students, have put it all on the line to raise awareness -- and more than a few eyebrows -- for what they consider to be a day worthy of making into a national holiday. Tonight, they have shed both clothing and convention to get their point across."

She turned to me, eyes piercing in a way that was both businesslike and flirtatious. "Mr. Landry," she said. "What compelled you to come up with an idea like this? Appearing in the nude in a public environment is a little extreme, don't you think?"

I surprised myself with how ready I was to answer the question. "Well, I have to give credit where credit is due. The idea wasn't mine; it belongs to my friend Kit, here."

Kit stared at the camera like a doe before the headlights of an onrushing truck. "Hi," was all she said.

"But, an idea takes a lot of work to make it happen," Theresa said.

I nodded. "Yes, it does," I agreed. "And we have put a lot of work into it. For us, Earth Day isn't just a fad or convenient catch-phrase. We really feel that, to go forward as conscientious Americans, we need to take into account the needs of our environment, not just ourselves."

"It certainly seems you're making an impact here," Theresa said, and at her prompting, the cameraman panned back and forth across the courtyard as she continued. "In fact, as far as I can see, a very big impact."

That she glanced briefly to my crotch as she spoke that last line did not escape me. Suddenly, I felt an undeniable urge to best the reporter at her own game.

"Well, we definitely wanted to jack up interest concerning Earth Day," I said.

The corners of her mouth curled as Theresa realized what I was up to. "Doing so in public without clothes? That's certainly a different stroke."

I shrugged. "It's bringing attention to the issue, isn't it?" I asked rhetorically. I gestured around at the crowd behind me. "I doubt we'd have as much of a turnout if we didn't, you know, sweeten the pot. A bird in the hand being worth two in the bush and all that."

Kit suddenly pinched me, almost making me wince, and I did my best to suppress a smile.

"So how many signatures have you gathered for your petition?" Theresa asked, her dark eyes beginning to smolder. I suddenly wondered if my rhetoric had been misconstrued as verbal foreplay. Or maybe she was aroused by a challenge.

"Last I checked --" I glanced to Kit. "-- we had about four-fifty or so."

Kit nodded. "Sounds right. I know I've gone through three sheets on my clipboard, with forty signatures per sheet."

"That's very impressive," the reporter commented, eyes once again dipping to my crotch. I didn't know if she was doing that in the hope of getting a rise out of me, or if she was trying to make me falter by calling attention to my nudity.

"As I said, it was all Kit's idea," I said, slipping an arm around my friend's narrow shoulders. She melded into the hug much more willingly than I had expected, settling a hand to my chest. "She's always trying to get me in trouble."

"But he loves it," Kit remarked.

Theresa's confidence suddenly seemed to waiver, her eyes darting between Kit and I. But then she mustered herself and effected that professional smirk of hers. "So, do you see this is the beginning of a yearly event? National Naked Earth Day?"

"I don't think we want to be those kinds of pioneers," I said with a chuckle. "Maybe someone else will be inspired for next year, and Earth Day will be more than a three-hour carnival on a Sunday afternoon. All we wanted to do was give today the prominence it deserves."

"Through nudity."

"Absolutely," I said without hesitation, and winked at the reporter. "Got you down here, didn't it?"

She glared back for a moment, but the smile stretching her mouth was genuine. "It did indeed," she said, then turned to face the camera. "And is that what it takes to draw attention to a yearly event that, around the world, is celebrated by more than a billion people? Why are we, in this city, content to give Earth Day little more than a nod to those few environmental lobbyists who bother to petition for recognition?

"Standing with these students, before these businesses whose owners have so bravely offered their space, I can honestly say that I am proud to have been at least some small part of an event which I am certain will grow significantly in the near future.

"This is Theresa Cortes, for Channel Twelve Action News."

The light switched off, for which I was glad, and a sudden chorus of applause rose from the crowd nearest us, which grew and multiplied rapidly throughout the entire courtyard. More than simply being naked in a public place, the gesture made both Kit and I blush deeply.

"That was some pretty good writing," I said to Theresa. "I mean, the opening and conclusion. Pretty poetic stuff."




Petition



The woman batted her eyes. "Thank you. I--"

"I wrote it," said John the cameraman with a smug look on his face.

Theresa's face fell instantly. I looked to John and offered my hand. "Good stuff, man. You should be a writer."

He shrugged sheepishly. "Eh, you know. It's kind of a hobby--"

"And it's a wonderful hobby," Theresa interjected with more than a little rudeness. "You're the next Stephanie Meyers. Shouldn't you get back to the van now?"

The cameraman grumbled under his breath, stole a last longing look at Kit, then turned and trudged away.

Theresa flashed her teeth once more, her face softening as she addressed me. "Sorry about that," she said. "Sometimes he forgets he's just the cameraman. I wanted to ask you something, if you don't mind. A couple of little details to fill in the blanks."

I rolled my shoulders. "Sure. What do you need to know?"

Theresa glanced around, then seemed to find what she was looking for. "Let's go over here, where it's not so noisy," she suggested, gently taking my arm.

My initial response was to resist; her pushy demeanor was increasingly turning me off. But I allowed the reporter to steer me aside anyway, after giving a quick look to Kit and hoping I conveyed an 'I'll be right back' vibe. But Kit just frowned in distaste, crossing her arms over her perky breasts.

Theresa led me around the corner of the comedy club, to a breezeway that overlooked the parking lot below. Wind rushing past the building made the air suddenly ten degrees cooler.

With only a quick glance around, Theresa suddenly pressed herself against me, right hand snaking around my cock, fingertips tickling my balls. "Here's the deal," she said. "You guys are done at eight o'clock, right?"

I stammered. "Uh, right," I said, placing my hands on the woman's shoulders. But why I did not immediately push her away I would never understand. Certainly, the woman was attractive, even if it took industrial-strength makeup to get her face to look so smooth.

"I'll be in the van downstairs doing post-production. I'll send John away for coffee or something at about a quarter after eight. Should give us around forty-five minutes to have a little fun."

I frowned, cleared my throat. "Uh, fun?"

Theresa grinned and tugged on my cock. "Fun," she emphasized with a dance of her stenciled eyebrows.

I had to admit the way she was fondling me felt pretty damn good, and where we were fed right into my exhibitionist fantasies.

"I bet I can do things to you girls your age can't," she declared heatedly. "You know that trick about tying a knot in a cherry stem?"

"Yeah . . . seen that at a dozen sorority parties," I said.

Her eyes bore into mine. "I can make a rope ladder," she declared, then passed her tongue across her upper lip.

Despite my aversion to the woman, there was something about her that was actually starting to turn me on. Maybe it was some sort of basic primal male urge to take a woman like this and fuck her the way I wanted, to dominate her. She had such a strong personality, part of me would love to put her in her place, so to speak.

But I resisted. Once again, I realized, I was being addressed like a slab of meat.

"Sounds nice," I said, then stepped back, jerking my now half-erect cock from the woman's grasp. "But I, uh, should really get back to the others."

Theresa lifted her right hand and dragged her tongue up her index finger in a very suggestive way. "Eight-fifteen," she reminded me, then turned sharply on her heel and marched away.

I let out a deep breath, stared down at my cock like it was a friend who had betrayed me. Thankfully, the chilly breeze was having its typical effect, and after a few moments, I headed back around the corner to rejoin my fellow students.

Kit saw me approach and watched me with a scowling face. "What was that about?" she asked with more than a little acid on her tongue.

"Just, uh, filling in some details," I said, avoiding her gaze.

She stepped before me, so close that I had no choice but look at her. "Was one of those details getting her phone number?" she asked bitingly.

I met her eyes, reading anger and jealousy. This was something new coming from my lifelong friend. Kit had occasionally professed disdain for someone I dated, but had never reacted this way. The fact that she seemed genuinely insulted touched me, and made me react as if I had done something wrong and needed to apologize.

"Look, she came onto me, but I'm not interested, okay?"

Kit's glare slowly softened. "She came onto you?" she asked, her voice noticeably less grating now.

I huffed. "Yeah, she did. Look, it's no big deal. I walked away."

A small smile grew across Kit's soft pink lips. "You turned her down?" she asked slyly. "Miss hot TV reporter babe comes onto you, and you turned her down?"

I cocked my head, feeling momentarily insulted. "Believe it or not, just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I'm willing to fuck just anything," I growled, then brushed past Kit and snatched up my clipboard.

* * * *

Despite that bit of awkwardness, the night went well. During the last hour, it became obvious that word had spread across the city about our group's presence, for more and more people showed up with the definite purpose of seeing the truth for themselves. The six of us posed for more photos during that time than during the previous three hours put together.

That the crowd in and around the bar was becoming more inebriated was illustrated when a tall man in a gold-colored shirt approached Tanya and tried to grab her crotch when his buddy raised the camera. She slapped his hand away and delivered such an incredible and inspiring rapid-fire angry monologue, jabbing her finger in his face, that the guy backed off sheepishly as if she had pointed a gun at him. Our buddy with the badge stepped in eventually to nudge the man away.

"Might be time to go," Paden said to me once the episode was over.

"Just another half an hour," I said to him. "But if it starts to get rowdy, we'll pack it up."

Paden gave me a rueful smile, shaking his head. "Don't know how you pulled this off, Kevin," he said, then raised a fist to bump. "Kudos."

I laughed softly beneath my breath. "It was all Kit's idea," I said.

"Well, I gotta hand it to you," he said. "Wish I had a girlfriend like her."

"Nah, she's not my girlfriend," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" he asked, then stepped away.

His question perturbed me, compelled me to glance toward my friend, the girl -- the woman -- I had grown up with, who knew everything about me. At that moment, she was laughing and smiling as she interacted with men and women, so deliciously and casually naked and obviously comfortable in her own flesh. Her skin glowed, her cheeks shone with natural rosy hue, her eyes glittered.

Then, for just a moment, she turned her head and her gaze met mine. The expression on her face faded, yet the gleam in her eyes remained. And in that instant, as our eyes were locked, I lost track of everything else around me. The freight train I had always wondered about came barreling through my brain.

* * * *

It was several minutes past eight o'clock when we realized our time was up. We were all simply having too much fun. However, Paden gave me a look and tapped his wrist, prompting me to look for my phone and check the time. It was eight-oh-seven.

"If I can have everyone's attention!" I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. Scores of faces turned my way.

"As much as I hate to say it, our time's up," I announced, which was met by a rather gratifying chorus of 'aw . . .'

"We'd like to thank you all for coming out to sign our petition, and for celebrating Earth Day with us!"

"Happy Earth Day!" Kit yelled, and her cry was repeated by the others and even by some in the crowd around us.

"How'd we do?" I asked as we all gathered around the table.

"I filled almost six pages," Kit proclaimed proudly.

"Almost seven for me," said Deanna. She grinned wickedly. "Chalk it up to fire crotch power."

"Five for me," said Tanya, whose report was echoed by Letty.

"Well, I got just a couple over four pages on mine," Bill said. "But, hey, I was spreading the manliness. Nice to know the chubby-chaser nation is still alive and well. I got two phone numbers. Does that count?"

"Only to you," I said with a laugh.

"I guess someone's getting lucky tonight," quipped Kit with a quick glance my way.

Bill grinned. "Hell yeah," he said. "Not bad for a fat guy who smells like burritos, huh?"

Kit rolled her eyes, but she laughed nonetheless. "You know I love you, Bill baby."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I got a proposal," informed Deanna with a strange note of pride.

Kit's eyebrows danced cattily. "Don't you mean proposition?" she asked.

The redhead smirked. "No, a proposal," she insisted. "Some old Mexican guy wanted to take me away to his villa in Acapulco."

Kit rolled her eyes. "Only you," she quipped.

We did a quick tally, coming up with a total figure of a little over eleven hundred signatures. That was much more than I expected we would get. When I announced the number, the girls all squealed and hugged. I don't mind saying that the sight of four naked women pressed together in a group hug did wonders for igniting certain fantasies in my brain.

But Officer Paden butted in. "Much as I hate it," he said. "But you gotta get dressed now. The permit expired ten minutes ago. Don't make me arrest anybody for public indecency."

"Oh, pfft!" Kit exclaimed, sticking out her tongue. But Bill already had the tub open with our clothes inside, and we all quickly grabbed our garments and belongings.

"Kit," I said as I slipped on my shorts.

She looked up, smiling, after slipping a long, loose white T-shirt over her head. It covered her like a dress. "Yeah?"

I just smiled at her for a long moment. "Thanks."

She stared back, then approached me and reached for my hands. "So, have you figured it out, yet?" she asked.

Her question made me frown, briefly, but before I could answer, the others were swarming around us with suggestions of going to eat at Denny's, going into the comedy club or the bar, or whatever else they could think of to pester us with. Just like that, the moment was gone.

I dismantled the table as Kit gathered up the sign. The others grabbed what they could and we all descended en masse down the stairs, heading to our cars. We bid farewell to Paden, who told us, predictably, that it had been "his pleasure" to watch over us for the evening. Watching as he and Deanna stepped aside, I did not doubt his sincerity.

We tossed the table and sign in the back of Tanya's SUV, and with another round of hugs and handshakes, she, Letty and Bill took off, leaving Kit and I in the parking lot.

Still clad in just her long T-shirt and sneakers, Kit gave me a beaming smile. "I think I finally understand why you like being naked so much," she said.

I chuckled, my gaze inadvertently darting around. "It's kind of addictive, isn't it?" I asked, but as I did so, I noticed the Channel Twelve news van, parked not too far away from where we stood. The sliding side door was partially open, showing just a hint of the interior. The windows were heavily tinted, hiding everything else.

"What is it?" Kit asked, then followed my gaze. I could hear the drop in her voice. "Oh."

"It's nothing," I said, returning my attention to my friend.

"'Nothing,' huh?" she asked, a challenging tone in her voice. Her eyes hardened with suspicion as she searched my face. "Is she waiting for you?"

I sighed heavily, started to speak, but Kit interrupted me with a single short, loud, barking laugh.

"She is! Holy shit, Kevin, that bitch is actually waiting for you?"

"Whether she's waiting or not, I don't care!" I exclaimed, but Kit was already turning away in a huff, stomping toward her car.

"Kit!" I called. But she only waved her hand dismissively over her shoulder.

I stood upon the blacktop, fuming. I shot a look toward the news van, just as it opened and Theresa Cortes stepped out, an arrogant smile on her face. She beckoned with a finger.

But really, my choice had already been made. I didn't give the other woman another moment of my time, and ran after Kit.

There's no fucking way I'm giving up on this, I told myself.

Just as Kit was opening the door to her car, I was there, slamming it closed. She jumped back, startled, and gave me a frightened look.

"Now look," I growled at her. "Just because I didn't say no to her doesn't mean I said yes. She can wait all God damn night for all I care because I'm not interested in her, and if you would have given me half a chance to explain, you'd already know that!"

Kit stared back, wide-eyed and gape mouthed. I had never been so emotional around her.

"You said, when this whole thing started, that you hoped I would understand why you wanted to do this."

Kit nodded slowly. When she spoke, her voice was soft, timid. "Do you?"

I let out a deep breath, calming myself. "We've been best friends since seventh grade, Kit," I said. "For ten years, we've done just about everything together."

"Just about," she echoed meaningfully.

I felt my heart beginning to pound, and it wasn't from the exertion. "Why go through all this, if you just wanted to . . . to . . . ." I huffed in exasperation.

Her soft pink lips parted in a mischievous smile. "Because sometimes, Kevin," she said, taking a step closer. "You need to show someone, before you can tell them."

I frowned. "Show me what? Tell me what?"

She reached for my shirt, tugging gently. "I wanted to show you that I accept certain things about you," she said. "So I could tell you how I feel."

"What 'certain things?'"

"This," she said, gesturing around us. "What we did tonight. This is part of your world. You love going to nude beaches and walking around your apartment naked. You love being carefree, and spontaneous, and just a little bit reckless. I wanted to show you that I could be all that, too. And you know what?"

"What?"

She grinned broadly. "I had the time of my life," she said, staring up at me.

My heart was hammering now, and I figured Kit's was doing the same, the way her eyes were trembling and how she gripped a handful of the fabric of my shirt like she needed to hang on.

"So what did you want to tell me?" I prompted her at last.

"Something that I think -- I hope -- we've both been wanting to tell each other for a long time."

I inhaled deeply. Is this really happening? I wondered.

"But not here," she said, abruptly backing off. With a wicked smile, she reached for the car door again. "Follow me."

She was inside her car before I could blink, leaving me discombobulated for just a moment. Right! I thought, and bolted toward my car.

* * * *

Kit had always been the type to drive just a few miles below the speed limit, but now she was weaving in and out of highway traffic, goosing the speed limit as if she was channeling the spirit of Carlo Abarth. I actually had to struggle to keep up with her.

What the hell is she doing? I wondered with alarm. She's acting like me!

I followed her, several car lengths behind, as she switched to the north-bound highway. By the time she took the exit at O'Connor, I already knew where she was headed: Wonderstone Park.

At such a time of night during the week, the three-hundred-acre park would be practically deserted. It was a fairly popular place on the weekend for kids to go to and make out, but on a Monday night it was as devoid of human habitation as some pristine alien planet. The only lights were the headlights of our cars; the glow of the city faded away as Kit drove further through the winding roads framed by mesquite trees and red oaks.

Finally, she parked in the lot beside the four-acre kite field, and I pulled in on the right side of her car. Her lights switched off, I heard her car door slam, and the following moment, Kit's naked body flashed in the light of my headlamps as she ran out into the field.

What the--? I switched off the lights and jumped out of the car. The brilliant radiance of the moon rained down upon the vast open field, making Kit's naked body glow with an alabaster hue. She was about fifty or sixty feet out when she stopped and turned to face me. Even at that distance, I could tell she was grinning.

So this is what she wants, I thought, peeling off my shirt and shucking my shorts. Okay. Leaving my clothes beside the car, I jogged out into the field.

Kit laughed and turned, running from me. I was glad for my adventurous life; I possessed an impressive amount of stamina. It helped, of course, that Kit wasn't really trying that hard to get away from me.

Despite the chill in the air, our exertions nearly had us sweating by the time I caught up with her. She was grinning and glowing, her exquisite body fully outlined in the moonlight.

"Is this part of what you wanted to show me?" I asked as I came up to her.

She nodded, licking her lips. Then with a movement that startled me, Kit jumped into my arms, wrapping her arms and legs around me. I could feel the heat of her sex against my lower abdomen. Without a word, she pressed her lips to mine, giving me the most incredibly passionate kiss I had ever enjoyed. She moaned and sighed into my mouth, sucking my lips, searching for my tongue with her own. Arousal charged through me, making me erect. The head of my cock tapped against Kit's firm cheeks.

She drew back, face impassioned. "There's something I want to tell you before we . . ." she smiled. "I want to tell you something, Kevin."

My hands smoothed up and down her back. "What's that?"

Her eyes burned into mine. "I'm in love with you," she whispered. "I think I always have been."

I smiled, my heart fluttering. "You were right," I told her. "That is what I've been wanting to tell you for a long time."

She smiled sweetly. "I just suddenly woke up one day and realized that I wanted to be with you. But I had to show you -- and myself -- that I could be part of your world, your life."

"You picked a pretty memorable way to do it," I said with a laugh.

She nodded. "Yeah I did, didn't I?" She kissed me again, emitting a yearning moan, and squirmed against me. "I want you," she whispered as she broke the kiss.

"Right now?"

"Uh-huh. Right now, right here."

She pushed back and uncurled her limbs, settling to the grass. Face blazing with passion, she lowered herself to a squat before me, bringing her face in line with my erection. Her hands ran up and down my thighs. "Finally," she whispered, gazing upon my cock.

Her lips parted wetly, and she pressed them against the tip of my penis, slowly sucking the head into her mouth. I trembled, letting out a moan of pleasure. Kit engulfed me slowly, taking half my length into the warm recess of her mouth, then stopped, sucking the flavor from my dick. Her hands caressed my thighs, my abdomen, then delved between my legs to cradle my swollen balls. Everywhere she touched left a tingle upon my skin.

She finally slid back, gazing up at me. I had no words, no way other than through the expression on my face to convey how incredible I felt at that moment. It dawned on me that, for the first time in my life, this wasn't just sex. This was making love.

"I'll do anything you want, baby," Kit whispered up at me, lips fluttering against the head of cock with each word. "Anything you've ever wanted a girl to do. I mean it."

I swooned, almost falling over, but steadied myself by lowering to my knees. I touched Kit's face. "That goes both ways," I said. I let out a sudden, small laugh of wonder. "God, I love you."




Petition



Her eyes glistened, and she shuddered with a deep breath. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that."

We kissed again, and I gently eased Kit onto her back in the grass. Her hands were all over me, running from my shoulders to my ass and everywhere in between. She cupped my face and kissed me eagerly, wantonly. I left a cooling trail down her neck and breasts as I nipped and licked my way down. Kit sighed in passion beneath me, parting her thighs as I hovered over her abdomen. The fragrance of her need drifted to my senses, fresh and enticing.

I positioned myself between her thighs, admiring the beauty of her sex. Kit possessed sleek, bright pink lips that curled out beneath her clitoral hood, already moist with anticipation. I kissed her smooth-shaved mound first, then pressed my mouth the junction of her thigh and pelvis, where the tendon stood out. Kit hissed in pleasure, squirming in the grass beneath me.

Slowly, savoring every moment, I licked up and down her wonderfully fleshy folds, getting a taste of my lover's passion. I sucked one, then the other into my mouth, massaging them with my lips, then slowly slid my tongue past her silky curtains and into the heated tunnel of her sex.

"God, oh God yes," Kit panted, gripping my hair. She splayed her legs wide, lifting her feet from the ground to open herself up as fully as she could. "Eat me, baby . . . ."

So I did, licking deep within her increasingly wet pussy, bracing my hands on her inner thighs. Kit's flavor was incredible, unlike that of any woman I had tasted before. Rich and sweet, with a hint of bitterness and a touch of something almost spicy. It was like licking candied ginger. It only changed -- becoming even richer -- when I covered her clitoris with my mouth and sucked.

She shuddered and moaned once I did that, her body twitching and breath coming out in staccato gasps. Kit lifted her radiant face and stared down at me, mouth slack and eyes heavy. "D-d-don't stop," she begged heatedly.

I managed a smile but kept sucking, swirling my tongue in a massaging motion around her clit. Our eyes were locked as I brought her closer and closer to orgasm. Finally, she gasped loudly and let her head fall back into the cool grass, and erupted in orgasm. "Oh, God!"

Kit thrashed as she came, and I hung on, drawing it out for as long as she could stand it. Her pussy literally gushed, and I slipped my tongue down for a taste of an even sweeter fluid.

Suddenly energized, Kit pushed me back and sat up, hissing like a feral woman in heat. She kissed me deeply, sucking her own flavor from my lips. "Your turn," she panted, wrapping her hands around my cock. Leaving my mouth, she doubled over and slid her lips down my shaft, sucking ardently. I leaned back on my hands, legs folded beneath me, and watched as Kit enjoyed herself.

She sucked and pulled, stroking my shaft in time with her bobbing head. Her lips were like silk soaked in rose oil, her tongue a massaging rod encased in velvet. From her soft muffled moans and urgent movements, it seemed she was determined to make me come.

She paused for a moment to uncurl herself and get on all fours. "You can get off more than once, right?"

I nodded vehemently, my cock as hard as it could possibly be, glistening from her mouth. The cool night air washed over it, making me tremble. "Definitely," I managed to say.

Kit grinned. "Good," she responded. "'Cause I wanna taste it."

I groaned as she went back down, using just her mouth now. She bobbed and sucked, pulling with her lips on each upstroke, eagerly working me towards an eruption. As my breathing became shallower and I started rolling my hips with my impending rush, Kit mewed excitedly, knowing I was about to burst.

And burst I did, grunting and trembling in intense pleasure as my cock swelled and pulsed and began ejaculating into Kit's mouth. A long, slow moan escaped her throat as she tasted my seed, and she sucked gently to get it all. I gasped at the heat and sensations coursing through my groin, feeling every nerve at the tip of my cock tingle as every drop of fluid was spent in Kit's mouth.

I fell back, panting, and Kit stayed with me, suckling softly and running her hands around my torso. The world tilted this way and that as I stared up at the inky sky. The moon blazed overhead, its face smiling down upon us.

Then Kit was atop me, kissing my neck, my face, my lips. I could just taste the residue of my orgasm on her tongue. "Jesus, you're incredible," I told her once I had found my voice.

She grinned. "We're incredible," she corrected. "Together."

I nodded and smiled. "Together forever?"

Her eyes flashed. "Sounds good to me," she said, then straddled me. The heat of her damp pussy seared through my penis. I was still fairly hard, and returned rather swiftly to full erection as Kit reached back to position the head of my cock at the entrance to her pussy.

"Forever," she whispered as she slowly impaled herself, eyes fluttering closed as drew inch after inch into her body. I groaned, my groin still tingling from the recent orgasm. I could feel every ripple of Kit's inner muscles along my shaft. The feeling was maddening.

For a moment, once I was seated deeply within her, Kit sat still atop me, eyes closed and mouth slack. Her vaginal muscles twitched and pulled, sucking automatically on my cock. Then, slowly, she began rocking back and forth, placing her hands upon my chest. Her eyes opened and she gazed upon me with a look of pure passion and rapture.

"Can we just . . . do this . . . for the rest of our lives?" she asked with a heady smile.

I reached up and massaged her firm breasts, pinching Kit's small nipples, making her catch her breath. "I sure wouldn't mind," I managed to say.

She gazed upon me with adoration and affection as she rolled her hips, massaging my shaft inside her. "Why did we wait so long, Kevin?"

I eased up, spreading my legs and slipping an arm around Kit's slender waist so that we remained together, and kissed her. "I don't know, but we're not gonna stop now."

She giggled. "Oh, hell no," she affirmed, lacing her fingers together behind my neck. Her feet planted on the grass to either side, she moved up and down, staring into my eyes as she impaled herself again and again. I lowered my head and teased a nipple with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth. She hissed when I nipped at it with my teeth.

I rolled forward, placing Kit on her back, then straightened, holding her lean taut thighs far apart. Kit clawed at my chest for a moment before I started thrusting roughly inside her, and then she fell into a series of gasps and moans and gentle cries. There was just enough light that I could see the way the pink petals of her pussy flared around my cock. Her clitoris glistened like a freshly-revealed pearl.

Kit moaned and panted as she came again, her vagina clamping down so hard on my cock I couldn't move. She shuddered in ecstasy for several moments, then suddenly surged up and pushed me over until she was on top yet again. This time, she squatted over me, hands braced on my abdomen. Her hair was sweaty and tangled around her face as she rode me.

"Come with me," she demanded, eyes blazing with lust. "Don't hold it back. Come with me!"

I grunted and gripped her hips, thrusting upward each time she descended. Her cheeks smacked against my hips over and over. Her pussy sucked on my cock, practically spasming all the while. I alternately watched the erotic sight of my cock being swallowed again and again and Kit's beautiful impassioned face.

"I'm gonna come, baby," she whimpered, face pained.

I nodded, and felt the flood gates beginning to weaken within me. Just as Kit began heaving with yet another orgasm, I pushed myself up onto my hands, thrust deep inside her, and joined her in orgasmic bliss.

My head fell back and my arms trembled as every ounce of energy passed from me, through my penis, and into the woman I loved. Kit growled in pleasure, gasping and moaning all through her own ecstatic explosion. I felt her inner muscles milking me for every last drop of fluid, making my cock burn.

Finally, my strength was gone and I collapsed onto the ground, Kit atop me. We gasped for breath, clumsily touching and petting one another. I was incoherent; I'm sure I babbled something, and maybe Kit did as well, but it was lost to post-orgasmic shutdown.

Eventually, the chilly night air roused our sweaty bodies. I realized we were both shivering; the temperature must have dropped a good ten degrees or more.

Languidly, Kit lifted her head, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes. She looked drunk, and I figured my own expression must have matched hers.

"Take me home," she whispered, then smiled. "Your home."

I smiled and kissed her.

* * * *

It was just before ten when we stumbled through the door of my apartment. Neither of us said a thing; we did not need to. Sharing tired, satisfied looks, we headed to the bathroom and flicked on the light. Laughter sputtered forth as our true appearance was revealed to us. Scratch marks adorned my body, from my shoulders to my back to my outer thighs. Kit's knees were red. Mud was smeared across our feet, hands, and buttocks. We were consummate messes.

Beneath the warm spray of the shower, Kit and I soaped each other up and shared numerous long, loving kisses. I loved the way her body felt against mine. Despite being so slender and athletic, Kit actually felt soft against me.

Clean and toweled, Kit crawled into my bed while I mixed us a couple of rum cocktails in the tiny kitchen.

"Babe!" Kit called. "You gotta see this!"

"See what?" I called back, taking up the glasses and heading to the bedroom.

"We're on TV!"

My eyes darted to the TV in my bedroom as I crawled onto the bed. Kit had tuned in the Channel Twelve news, and there we were. The footage from the interview with Theresa Cortes had been edited, but still . . . .

"Look!" exclaimed Kit with a giggle. "You can totally see my nipple!"

I chuckled. "God, I hope your parents aren't watching."

The color drained from her face for a moment. "Oh, shit," she breathed, then laughed. "Nah. They watch Channel Four."

The clip ended with Theresa delivering her cameraman's eloquent conclusion, then switched back to the news studio. The anchorwoman sat smiling at the camera. She was a middle-aged woman who had been headlining the news for as long as I could remember.

"Well, that was a revealing piece," she commented, then glanced beside her. The camera pulled back, showing Theresa Cortes, looking as professional as ever.

"It certainly was, Angie," the reporter said. "One thing I have to hand it to those kids is that they were bold enough to risk public scrutiny by doing something like this." Her eyes drifted to the camera. "Kevin and Kit, wherever you are right now, let me just say that I admire your conviction. I certainly won't be forgetting Earth Day anytime soon."

The camera focused on the anchorwoman once more. "Well said. Up next, Steve Brown has the latest from the NBA--"

Kit flicked off the TV and rolled atop me. "So," she said, looking ungodly sexy with her damp hair framing her fresh-scrubbed face. "You sure you wouldn't rather have spent the night getting some from the Action News girl?"

I ran my hands up Kit's body, admiring the natural luster of her skin. In the soft light of my bedside lamp, she looked like a golden idol. "To be honest, I never considered it for a moment," I said. "Not seriously. I knew I already had something better waiting for me, if I was smart enough to realize it."

Her features softened. "I've been waiting for you for a long time," she said earnestly, then corrected herself. "No, that's not exactly true. I've been waiting for . . . for me to realize I could be part of your life. That what you wanted was what I've always wanted, too."

My brow furrowed. "You mean that?"

She nodded. "I mean it, Kevin. I'm in love with you. I don't ever want to be away from you."

I traced a random pattern on Kit's stomach, making her giggle softly. "You know, your parents don't exactly approve of me," I said.

She shrugged without hesitation. "They'll just have to get used to it," she said. "I've been living their life long enough. I want my own life, now. And I want it with you."

I smiled, took her hand, kissed her fingers. "I want it with you, too."

She bent and kissed me tenderly, then straightened with a deep sigh. "God, I can't believe everything that's happened today."

I chuckled. "Seems like a weird dream, doesn't it?"

She laughed. "Yeah, it does."

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think," I said as I sat up and gathered Kit in my arms. I settled my gaze upon hers. "That I'm never going to forget Earth Day for as long as I live."

She nibbled her lip. "'Cause it's the first day we made love?"

I gave her a meaningful look. "'Cause it's gonna be our anniversary now."

Her eyes became liquid, and she kissed me deeply.

-fin-

(I hope you enjoyed this little romantic tale. Please leave a vote and comment below if you wish, and don't forget to read all the other submissions to this year's contest. Happy Earth Day.)



Petition for Exchange of Sex



Petition for Exchange of Sexual Congress

State of Texas 
County of Harris

Court Fifth Circuit Sexual Practices
Docket No. Fifty two forty five (5245)

In re:  Exchange of Sexual Congress   

Name of Petitioner:  Justin Aaron Fitzgale

Name of Petitioned:  Janet Elaine Siewalls

From: Initial foreplay
To: Final presumed mutual orgasm(s)


Petitioner makes the following declaration:

1. Birth Date and Place:   Petitioner was born on February 15, 1982 in  Lampassas [city],  Lampassas [county], Texas [state]. A certified copy of petitioner's birth certificate is attached to this petition.  Petitioned was born on September, 3, 1984 in Old Dime Box [city], Lee [county], Texas [state].  A certified copy of petitiioned’s birth certificate will be attached upon acceptance of petition.

2. Proposed Sexual Congress:  Petitioner proposes a complete and mutually satisfying congress from initial sweet-talk and light petting through orgasm for both petitioner and petitioned in a variety of negotiated activities.  Petitioners initial plan of progress would begin with light kissing, leading to open-mouthed exchange of low risk fluids (saliva), followed by manual fondling of clothed and unclothed breasts, with some oral stimulation of said breasts.  Congress would continue with invitation for petitioned to mutually reciprocate general fondling of petitioner’s chest, and nipples, with either accidental or faux accidental contact with any erect members of petitioner’s body.  Petitioner then proposes manual contact and stimulation of petitioned’s moistened opening (wet pussy) and sensitive nub (clit), hopefully, if agreed to oral contact with lips and tongue of aforementioned opening and nub.  Then, based upon final negotiations, petitioner’s erect member (throbbing cock) will be available for oral stimulation by petitioned until the moment petitioner plunges said erect member into petitioned’s moistened opeing.  Initial plunging penetration will be followed by continued and escalating pelvic thrusting driving petitioner’s erect member into petitioned’s moistened opening until both have achieved orgasm, if not simultaneously then separately.

Be it known that petitioner proposed sexual congress is a general outline of mutually acceptable, possible activities and that the petitioner is open to any alterations, suggestions, additional means of contact, and any other delights petitioned may recommend.
Be it known that petitioner has provided an affidavit of health and cleanliness, with physician’s confirmation that high risk fluids (cum) may be exchanged with no or low risk to petitioned. If petitioned so chooses, all contact can be made without prophylactic disease control.  Petitioned is formally asked to confirm or deny other reproductive control procedures are current, so use of measures can be considered by petitioner.

Contact is assumed between only petitioned and petitioner as of the date of this petition unless the petitioner would like to offer the following exceptions, if any:  If petitioner would like to bring along a female friend or two, petitioner would be agreeable. _____________________________________________________________________
[list all legal names of proposed additions].

3. Residence:  Petitioner resides at 1432 Ariel Way, Houston, Texas  77020 [insert residential address] and proposes this location for the congress unless petitioned recommends another location.  Petitioned has lived at this address for four years, three months [insert length of time in months or years at this address].

4. Petitioner's Assertions: The petitioner asserts that while his flaccid member size is of underwhelming size: one and one-half inches, the fully erect length of member does extend slightly beyond the average male member size for petitioner’s race, health and general economic status.  

5. Reason for Sexual Congress: Petitioner seeks to exchange sexual congress with petitioned because: I’ve been dying to fuck the daylights out of this woman for as long as he has known her: and offers the following reason(s) for seeking to do so: I would also love to eat her glorious pussy. 
_____________________________________________________________________________.

6. Legal and Creditor Status:  Petitioner does not have any outstanding judgments, has never been convicted of a crime, and is not involved in any pending legal actions.  

7. Additional Declarations:  In addition to the foregoing statements, the Petitioner further declares: Petitioner is not married, but is interested in pursuing a long term relationship with petitioned.
_____________________________________________________________________________
[insert additional declarations, if any].

NOW, THEREFORE, the Petitioner requests that the Petitioned exchanges sexual congress on the following date (s):

From: Friday, April, 14th
To: Saturday, April 15th as many times as mutually acceptable.

 Verification

I, Justin Aaron Fitzgale ___ [name of Petitioner], affirm under penalty of perjury that I am the Petitioner in the foregoing Petition to Change Name of Adult and that all statements in this Petition are accurate to the best of my knowledge.

 Petitioner’s Signature: __________________________________________ Date: April 8th, 2006

Petitioner’s Address, Line 1: 1432 Ariel Way________

Petitioner’s Address, Line 2: Houston, Texas  77020_______

Subscribed and sworn to before me on this  30th day of March, 2006.


Willamina Johansen
Sexual Notary, State of Texas



Petition for the Dissolution...



Georgia Plummer walked into the lobby of the four-story building, across the marble tile floors, past the polished limestone walls, and to the stainless-steel doors to the elevators. She didn't bother to stop at the information desk; she had instructions that told her that the office of Smith, Brown & Wilmott, Attorneys at Law, LLP, was on the fourth floor. 

The security guard at the information desk, hearing the click-click-click of her heels as she walked across the lobby, smiled at her, although as she passed she didn't reciprocate. That didn't really bother him, he just appreciated the fine figure she cut anyway. She was a dirty blond with light brown eyes; he estimated her height as about 5' 4", with shapely legs showing beneath the bottom of her skirt, enhanced by the heels of her shoes. The heels also lifted her derriere, tightening it, which, along with the underlying panty hose, gave her one of those almost perfectly heart-shaped asses. Damn, he liked a tight ass!

She was well endowed in the breast department as well, but the guard was cognizant that women have long known magnificent and deceitful ways for adjusting their apparent breast size to their needs of the moment. He thought that she was between a 34 and 36, residing in perhaps a 'C' cup. Her age, he guessed was mid-thirties. She was, in fact 42 years old. It took all of thirty seconds, from the time that she entered the foyer until she disappeared into the elevator.

When the elevator had delivered her to her destination, she exited and found herself facing the SB&W lobby. SB&W rented the entire floor, so there was no way to be lost — Georgia could only go one place, straight forward.

She passed through the glass doors with the SB&W logo embossed on it, treading on a sumptuous gray carpet, plush by commercial standards, she walked up to the reception desk. The light-blue colored walls were no doubt intended to warm the atmosphere.

"May I help you?" asked the young woman sitting behind the desk, looking up at Georgia through her fashionably small, ovoid-shaped glasses.

"Please. I am looking for," Georgia looked at the piece of paper in her hand, "Anne Wilmott. I have an appointment."

The receptionist flashed her professional smile at Georgia, who might, after all, be an important client, and then picked up her phone, dialing a few numbers and quietly speaking into the mouthpiece.

"Ms. Wilmott will be here in just a minute. May I get you some coffee, or tea? Or perhaps, you might prefer some water — we have bottles," the receptionist giggled, "they even have our name and logo on them," as she pointed to a half-empty bottle on her desk.

"Actually," Georgia, replied, "A water would be great," as she sat down in one of the plush burgundy overstuffed chairs in the waiting area. The young woman handed her a bottle,

"We're informal here, but if you want a glass...?" she questioned. 

Georgia just shook her head, twisted off the top and took a sip.

The question came from the side. It was a warm voice, soft and smooth, pitched a little on the low side for a woman.

"Mrs. Plummer?" 

Georgia turned her head, seaching for the source of this seductive feminine voice, to see a woman walking towards her from the side hall into the waiting area.

"I'm Anne Wilmott, Mrs. Plummer," she said, as she came up, her right hand extended out.

Georgia stood, automatically took her hand, and found it to be a warm and firm, but completely dry grip, as they shook hands in that understated way that women introduced for the first time do.

In that single moment, Georgia took in Anne Wilmott, in a single glance.

People's opinion was split when they first met Anne Wilmott. Was her most striking feature the long and wavy Titian-red hair, or the green eyes against her pale, but perfect complexion. Encountering her the first time, tended to result in a slightly extended pause, while they took in a first impression.

That was followed by the realization that even without her high heels on, Anne Wilmott would have been at least 5' 7", and that underneath the professional gray woolen skirt and jacket set, was a lean, well contoured body. Her breasts weren't as large as Georgia's, but they weren't small either, and she still looked like the swimmer that she had been through her university years, the upper-body strength transparent through her coat.

An aquiline nose, with high cheek bones, over a surprisingly full and sensual mouth, with lips that needed no enhancement, the second impression of Anne Wilmott was of a passionate woman. 

Georgia hated Anne Wilmott on sight, and her lips, thin and at that moment rather bloodless, tightened.

"I want to..." immediately came from Georgia's mouth.

"Please," Anne smiled as she interrupted Georgia's immediate outburst, "Come into my office and we can talk there." Georgia followed in Anne's footsteps, her demands placed on hold.

Georgia found herself sitting in a red leather upholstered chair, across the desk from Anne Wilmott. The lawyer had asked if she could allow her a minute, while she spoke with her secretary, giving instructions not to be disturbed, as well as a few other directions. Anne left the room. Georgia heard her with half-an-ear, while looking at the degrees and pictures hanging on the wall.

If Georgia's math was correct, hardly ever a certain thing, Anne Wilmott would be about 36 years old, based on the undergraduate degree in its frame. Her law degree was dated several years after her undergraduate diploma, but Georgia really had no idea what the combination of Columbia and Michigan Law implied. Georgia had attended the state university for a couple of years, but found it unedifying, when not plainly confusing. The best she could say for it was, she met her husband there.

Georgia speculated about the photographs. One of an older couple, probably parents, given the man's red hair, and the woman's facial resemblance to Anne Wilmott. Graduation photos. Photos in front of the building with several older men in suits — presumably other lawyers in the firm. Finally, there were a number of pictures of a young boy, about ten or twelve years old. A recent school photo, a portrait of the boy with Anne Wilmott, and a photo of the boy playing soccer, taken at the moment his foot connected with the ball. The most interesting to Georgia was the lack of any pictures of Anne Wilmott with a man who looked like a lover or husband.

Anne reentered the room,

"Pardon me, but now we should be able to talk without a constant stream of interruptions," Anne smiled as she sat down across the desk from Georgia. "By the way, thank you for coming in, I know it was on short notice."

"I don't understand what is going on," Georgia stated, quite firmly, even petulantly, "I don't understand why I am here talking to you, and I want to know where my husband is. Where is Don? Do you know where Don is? That is what your email implied." Her eyes glared across the desk.

Anne didn't seem to notice Georgia's attitude, and instead shuffled around some papers on her desk, as if she were looking for one paper in particular. Then she found it, looked at it and seemed somehow satisfied.

"I know in general terms, Mrs. Plummer, but no, I don't know specifically where he is at the moment. I do know how to contact him," Anne concluded, looking the entire time into Georgia's eyes.

"Then contact him," came Georgia's preemptory command, as she suddenly sat more upright in her chair, in an attempt to display her displeasure.

"It's not quite so simple," Anne explained, "I need to ask you a few questions first. Your husband suggested that I should try and clarify what has been occurring in your relationship, before he reestablishes contact." Anne's voice had remained calm and even soothing the entire time that she spoke, but somehow to Georgia, there was something not right. She didn't bother to respond.

"Good. Now, as I understand it, Mrs. Plummer, you moved out of the house that you shared with Donald for the past 10 years, along with your younger daughter..." Anne glanced down at the page in her hand, "Elle, about a year ago. Your older daughter," she looked again, as if to refresh her memory, "Samantha, who would have been a sophomore in college, was living on campus, and consequently didn't accompany you. Is that all correct?"

"Yes. Donald and I had been having some marital disagreements, and I thought that a period of separation would be good for both of us to cool off and clear our heads," Georgia smiled as she responded, "So I moved into an apartment not far from my where my parents live — about fifty miles from here, in Greensville."

Anne nodded as if in agreement, although it was just acknowledging that she understood what Georgia had said. She went on to her next question,

"And, as I understand it this was not a 'legal' separation; Don paid for your apartment, continued to pay for your car and insurance; you and your daughter remained on his medical insurance, and, he also paid you an amount of money for Elle's expenses?" Anne looked very serious as she asked these questions, after all, not every husband would be so scrupulous looking after a wife's well-being, who wasn't living with him.

"That's all true, but I continued to work as well. I'm employed by an insurance company, and I was able to transfer to our Greensville office," Georgia admitted, "and it wasn't like Don couldn't afford it. You know, he owns his business, and makes oodles of money." Georgia unconsciously glanced down at the designer dress, the Gucci handbag, and Prado shoes she was wearing, evidence of both Donald's ability to make money as well as his largesse towards his wife and her rather expensive habits of dress.

Anne looked at Georgia with the appraising eye of a woman who knows just how much the outfit and accessories would cost. Not that Anne's apparel had carried a lesser price tag, but she had earned every penny of it herself.

"I'll take your word for it," Anne replied, after a short hesitation, "And, correct me if I'm wrong, but you moved back here and into your home with Donald some four months ago?"

"Yes. After some discussion, I decided that we'd been apart long enough, and we came to an agreement with respect to our marriage with which I felt comfortable," Georgia answered the question easily enough, but to someone with Anne's training, her body language was crying out that she was concealing something, as Georgia crossed her arms and retreated back as deeply as she could into her seat.

Anne continued,

"During the roughly, eight months," she caught Georgia's eyes to confirm the time period, "that you were living in Greensville, Donald saw Elle," her eyes sought the paper again, "three times?" 

At this, Georgia was visibly fidgeting in the chair, uncomfortable about where the discussion was leading. Not surprisingly, her voice took on a defensive tone when she answered,

"It was very difficult to arrange things. Donald is always so busy, and my schedule and his often conflict. And Elle had become a very active girl — school, sports, and boys, of course," Georgia's chin raised slightly, in that 'go ahead give it your best shot' pose, " So I suppose that he didn't see Elle as much as he would have liked. But that's hardly my fault!" The tone in Georgia's voice was provocative, and she was visibly irritated.

Anne let Georgia have a moment to collect herself, just allowing a brief quiet pause. 

"Let's move on, then," Anne said to Georgia's great relief.

"You started calling around trying to find Donald three days ago?" the question Anne asked seem so innocuous, that Georgia answered without really thinking.

"Yes. Donald had driven our daughters back to school, they're both attending the same university now, and the drive takes about a day each way. They had one of those rental trailers that Don was towing with his SUV. The girls will be living together in an apartment at school this year, so Don was going to help them move in, and stay for a couple days to make sure that everything was working out for them — you know, in case there were any problems that he could fix before he came back. Then, he was supposed to return. But he didn't. Return, that is." She took a deep breath after the explanation.

Anne looked at Georgia with a somewhat skeptical look on her face.

"Wasn't he supposed to be back over a week ago?" she queried.

"Umm, I guess," came Georgia's non-committal reply.

"You didn't notice that he was at least four days overdue?" this time Anne asked with complete incredulity, her eyebrows raised in disbelief, "You didn't notice that his side of the bed was empty at nights?" At this Anne actually chuckled, while shaking her head.

Georgia pounced on that.

"We have separate rooms, and busy schedules. Not that it's any of your business." Georgia almost hissed at this irksome woman. This time she pressed on,

"I think it's time that you tell me where I can find my husband!" Georgia spat out, her eyes growing narrow, leaning forward in an aggressive stance.

But Anne didn't give any appearance of having heard her. She was holding a photograph that she had taken off the wall. A red-haired boy with incredible joy on his face, kicking a soccer ball.

"Parker," she said, as if that was an explanation.

"My son Parker. He's twelve now. I've been divorced from his father since he was two years old," Anne's words came from her mouth, but her eyes were staring into space, back in time, 

"His father, Ted, was an alcoholic. A brilliant man in many ways, but a horrible man when he was drunk." She paused and took a breath, "The couple of times that he hit me, I took it. I made excuses for it. It was really my fault, I would say. I tried to get him to change, tried to get him to stop."

Suddenly her eyes were very focussed on Georgia, almost making her shiver, "But the night that drunken bastard accidentally broke my babies' arm, MY TWO YEAR OLD BABIES' ARM, was when I realized that you can't change someone, make them better, force them to behave the way they should. There comes that time when you have to bite the bullet and cut the ties."

"I filed for divorce the next day, and since that time, I've never seen him again. After we'd been divorced for about six months, I never heard from him again, either," she concluded.

"But," Georgia asked, a little afraid of this woman after her outburst, "what does that have to do with my husband?"

"Your husband, Donald, is Parker's soccer coach." came the simple, calm, reply. "I'll bet you don't even know that he was giving his time a couple of days a week coaching a team, did you?"

Georgia just shook her head without saying anything.

"In fact, you don't know very much about your husband, because for all intents and purposes, you left him and your marriage over a year ago didn't you?" Anne's voice was becoming harsher now, and it was she leaning forward over her desk, the aggression visible in her lovely green eyes.

Georgia seem to almost shrink and wilt in the face of this verbal assault, saying nothing shaking her head.

"In fact, the story that you've told me today is a sanitized, self-serving version, a fairy tale, that you've concocted to portray yourself as a virtuous wife, when in fact you have been having an affair for over a year?" Anne pressed her hard.

"You didn't move out because you and Donald had 'marital disagreements' did you. Does the name 'Brian Cushing' mean anything to you?" Anne demanded.

"He works for the same insurance company that I do," was Georgia's almost whispered reply.

"Isn't the truth that you moved to Greensville so that you could continue to see your lover, Brian Cushing, who had been promoted to a management position at the Greensville office?" Anne continued to hammer at Georgia.

"No, no, no!" Georgia stammered, without conviction, tears filling her eyes.

Without a let up, Anne continued, "And while you were living in that apartment in Greensville, wasn't it convenient that you could send your daughter to your parents, sometimes for days at a time, so that you could entertain Brian Cushing in an apartment for which your husband was paying?" 

Georgia was whimpering slightly, and shaking her head, but not answering.

"And all the while, Donald was calling you each week trying to set up times when he could come and see his daughter. But you would disappear with her — shopping, going to a movie, anything to keep him from seeing her. Worse, telling her that her father didn't care about her, that he didn't want to be bothered with her," Anne's face filled with contempt, as she spoke.

"But she didn't tell you about the cell phone that he gave her after the second time he saw her, did she? You never knew that she was actually able to speak with her father when she wanted, did you? Did you wonder why neither of your girls said goodbye to you when they left for college this year? Or did you even notice?" It was a pounding indictment that Anne was laying on Georgia.

"Then, four months ago, you suddenly decide to return with Elle. Did you think no one would understand the connection between your lover being moved back here by your company, and your sudden urge to return from Greensville?" Anne was almost laughing as she spoke, "The best part —your demand to Donald that you would return, but only on the condition that you would have an 'open marriage' — meaning you would continue to see your lover. Because you know Donald too well, and know that he wouldn't cheat on you, despite your behavior, as long as you were married!" 

Georgia, though, was ready to fight back.

"You can't prove any of that!" she exclaimed, but her protestations didn't matter to Anne, she just continued.

"I don't suppose that you have even noticed that you haven't had, what we in the legal profession call 'conjugal' relations with Donald for over a year, have you. Did you ever notice that Donald stopped asking for, or expecting sex from you, from the time that you started your affair with Brian Cushing? That it was within days of when you initiated your sordid little liaison that Donald moved out of your bed and into the guest room? That he put a lock on the door to keep you out. Or were you just too self-centered to notice?"

Georgia, had tears streaming down her face, when she started to argue back,

"It is true that I haven't been paying attention to Donald like I should, but that's about to change. He's going to have more sex than he has ever..." she stopped in the middle of her sentence, as a sudden epiphany shattered her complacency.

She stared hard at the woman across the table from her, younger, beautiful, no — stunningly gorgeous woman sitting there, her faced flushed with emotion and passion. She wasn't some neutral party, she was a player in the game, fighting to win Donald for herself!

"You're in love with Donald, aren't you?" the question reflecting the horror in her eyes, "You are having an affair with MY husband." Suddenly Georgia started to assert a new confidence. "You won't get away with this. Donald is MY husband, and he's going to remain my husband." Her face visibly hardened, her eyes became slits, her lips two horizontal lines.

At that instant, Anne slid a document, stapled together, across the table, the print facing Georgia, in order that she could read the large "Petition for the Dissolution of Marriage" written at the top of the front page.

"I don't think so. You have been served." came Anne's quite reply, "Don is 'biting the bullet', 'cutting the ties', just like I did ten years ago." She sat back in her chair. There was a pause. 

"I met Don shortly after you had moved out. He was coaching my son Parker's soccer team. He seemed like such a great guy, but there was also this deep sadness about him, when he wasn't working with the boys. He just loves coaching those kids," Anne explained, looking into space again.




Petition for the Dissolution...



"One Saturday, after a game, the whole team went out for pizza afterwards, and eventually Don and I were the only adults left, and we started talking. I told him my horror story about my divorce, and he told me about you and your affair. He couldn't help it, he cried. I think that I may have first fallen for him right then, a man who could love so deeply, be so hurt, and still struggle on each day. Even finding a place in his heart to be there for other people's children," her face had a sudden pensive look. But then, Anne returned to the matter at hand.

Her hand reached to the papers, and pointed out the stated cause: irreconcilable differences.

"Donald," she said, "is citing irreconcilable differences, rather than adultery, as the cause. He is offering you a very generous settlement, more than I would have recommended, given the circumstances. Obviously, child custody isn't an issue, since both of your daughters are now legal adults. That's why Donald waited until now to file."

"He won't get off this easy!" declared a now outraged Georgia, "He can't prove a thing, and I'll counter sue based on your affair. If he wants this divorce, I'll take him to the cleaners. And as for you: I suspect that your relationship with Donald will raise some eyebrows when you try to explain how you can represent someone with whom you are having an on-going love affair!" Georgia had a triumphant look in her eyes, as she struck back at this arrogant woman.

Hearing that, Anne laughed.

"I'm not Donald's attorney! My practice is entirely corporate law. Donald just asked me if I would care to be the one who served you with your divorce papers," was her reply, the glint in her eyes mocking the soon-to-be ex-wife across the desk. 

"When you get back home, you'll find the door to Donald's room will be unlocked, and it will be empty of his personal effects," the look of triumph now on Anne's face.

"And just for your information, yes I love Donald deeply, but we've never had sex together. Not because of me — I've been willing; no, more — I've wanted him, for some time, but because Donald is too honorable and honest to betray his vows, regardless of how you've treated them, he refuses to make love to me until... you're at least legally separated," she stated as she sat back in her chair, looking exhausted from her efforts.

"You just tell Donald, it isn't going to be that easy," was Georgia's reply through clenched teeth.

Anne once again displayed that beguiling and enigmatic smile, as she reached into a drawer and began gently tossing photographs across her desk for Georgia's edification. They were pictures of Georgia and Brian Cushing locked together in various sexual positions and acts. Georgia was horrified and shocked — they were from inside the apartment in Greensville.

"No court will allow these," she sneered, "This is a massive invasion of privacy. I may have all of you arrested." She had moved forward in her chair again, her elbows on Anne's desk, looking like she would enjoy nothing more than reaching across and choking the life from her rival.

"Ah," Anne answered softly, "Did you think that Don would pay for your apartment, your little private love nest for you and your lover, out of the goodness of his heart? Have you always thought that he was stupid?" Anne was truly curious about that, because to her mind, trained in legal logic, there wasn't really another answer.

"That was Don's apartment. He paid for it, remember? That was his name on the lease. He had a key. He had every right to have monitoring equipment installed. No, you're wrong, these pictures are entirely legal, and if you try to fight the divorce, they will be used in the proceedings," Anne wasn't even gloating anymore as she explained the reality of the situation to Georgia.

Georgia had sat back in the chair and was clearly focussed inward, not seeing through her open eyes, when Anne spoke again,

"I do have a question for you. There are an awful lot of photos and hours of videos of you and Brian. Was it all as boring as it looked? Did you really give up Donald and your marriage for that?" Anne just shook her head. She found it incomprehensible.

Georgia was locked in her own thoughts, and didn't even hear Anne's last question. She was at a loss regarding what she should do now. Brian had dumped her the week before, claiming his wife had put her foot down. So much for his promises that he would leave his wife. At some level, Georgia knew that the real reason for his callous and cavalier attitude was that he had seduced one of the younger women at the office. She even thought that she knew who, the bitch who was dressing up a bit these days, and who seemed to look at her with contempt as she passed. 

What Georgia didn't know about, were the photos that Brian's wife had received, from an anonymous source. Don wouldn't have approved sending the photos, but Anne thought that it added a certain symmetry to the situation.

In truth, Georgia had never considered that she wouldn't be able to return to Donald and restore her marriage. But that vanity had just been swept from her imagination. What would she do now?

The voice in her head had no answer.

Slowly, Georgia, lifted her self from the chair, and began to walk towards the door. Anne silently rose as well, and retrieving the documents from her desk, handed them to Georgia before she left.

"Oh, by the way," Anne stopped to say, "Donald is at one of the soccer fields around town with the team. The boys are playing for the championship of their division today. But I still don't think he wants to talk you."

Dazed, Georgia didn't remember leaving the building, but the Security guard was shocked. He could hardly believe that the woman who could barely walk out of the building was the same 'fox' who had entered less than an hour earlier. She appeared to have shrunk, to have collapsed inside herself. Where there had been drive, there was now despair, the confidence was now humbled. She was a different woman, and her expensive clothes, her tastefully applied makeup; nothing could hide the change.

xxx

Driving home in her black Mercedes was one of Anne's pleasures in life. It fit in with the expectation of what a high-powered attorney should drive, but more important to her was the feeling of control that she had as she would speed down the road. 

That need to feel in control was one of the 'gifts' from her ex-husband; that and the two dental implants where he knocked out two teeth. They looked completely natural, the color matched her other teeth perfectly, which they damn well should at almost $2000 apiece. Way better than a bridge.

But today, her mind was on other things as she returned to her home.

Another result of her disastrous marriage was that she didn't trust men. For ten years, well, nine years, anyway, Anne had been completely uninterested, despite the many men who made it clear that they would be available, if she were in the game. 

That was until she met Donald Plummer.

She had indeed met Donald when he was coaching her son's soccer team. He was a little older than she would have normally considered 'eligible', at least for her. At 43, he was seven years older than she. He was handsome, and still physically fit, and one of the things that Anne noticed while watching her son's practices and games was that there was never a woman waiting for him when he finished coaching. Never. Not even when the teams would go out for lunch or dinner after games, when most of the coaches wives would show up at least part of the time. He wore a simple wedding band, but that might be camouflage.

It was also an anomaly that he didn't himself have a son playing.

With other men, the combination of no wife around and no son playing might have raised other questions. But, as soon as she inquired of some of the other 'soccer moms', she heard the short version of his story. Married, but with wife living in Greensville. The separation, job related; at least that was the story.

What impressed her most about Don, was his character. He was kind and generous to the boys, even those whose skills were not completely up to par with their contemporaries. He was unfailingly polite to everyone, even the refs! And to Anne's complete surprise and admiration, he never 'hit' on her, something that she was accustomed to from almost every man, fifteen year old Romeos to seventy-five year old Lotharios. He treated her in a friendly manner, as an intelligent person, but without the pressure of any sexual innuendo or expectations. 

That was before their mutual confessions after the pizza dinner. As she trembled recounting her tale of woe from her first marriage, Don covered her hand with his, gently patting it, just a simple gesture of comfort. When Anne got Don to reveal his more recent wounds, he began to quietly weep, trying to resist, but unable to hold back, Anne moved to his side of the table and put her arms around him and held him, until his grief had passed. 

It was her fault, if fault it was. That night as they returned to their cars, she pulled him to her, and they kissed. Nothing between them had been the same since.

It still hadn't been easy for her to trust, even Don. With the resources at her disposal due to her law practice, she had a background check done on him, just to be sure that he was telling her the truth, and that he wasn't some sort of parasite wanting to be supported by a high-earning wife. To her great surprise, the report revealed that she didn't even come close to having his earnings or assets, he had a well-managed and profitable business, so money didn't seem to be his motivation. And other than his deteriorating marriage, there didn't appear to be any other skeletons in his closets. He was the real thing.

She activated the garage door opener, the door rose and she pulled into her house. She gathered her purse and briefcase and entered into the kitchen. She dropped off her purse and keys on the end of the counter, in a corner where they would be convenient to retrieve in the morning as she left. She put her cell phone on the recharger at the same time.

"I'm home," she called out.

"Hey, honey, I'm in the living room," came Don's voice.

"Give me just a minute," Anne called back, as she entered into the master bedroom, and took her jacket off and hung it up.

She returned to the living room where she found Don behind the bar. He walked out, and they embraced in a passionate kiss. Just like the very first time in the parking lot, Anne melted in Don's arms. She felt warm, protected, loved — all of the things that she wanted but hadn't gotten from her ex-husband. 

When they finally loosened their embrace of each other, Don reached over to the bar and handed Anne the Strawberry Daiquiri that he'd been preparing for her when she entered. He grabbed his J.D. rocks as soon as his hand was free. 

He looked at her, his vision of loveliness, his Aphrodite. His face lit up and the worry lines relaxed.

"You are now officially separated from your wife, and your divorce is in process." Anne told him, raising her glass and touching his in an ironic toast, "At last!" she sighed.

Don wasn't overjoyed at the news, he wasn't by nature a vindictive sort of man. Although he was reconciled to the notion that divorce from his wife was the best course, he still wondered how he had failed as a man in his marriage. He took a drink, and asked,

"How did she take it?"

Anne thought before she answered,

"As well as could be expected. I think that she somehow thought that she would just crook her finger at you, and you would come running. You would forget about the past year, forget about how she treated you."

"The girls?" she asked.

"I called them a couple of hours ago. They weren't terribly surprised," came his reply.

Don stepped forward and hugged Anne again, but at least this time he was smiling.

"Well, it's time for us to get on with our lives. What did you plan for tonight?" he gently inquired, while hugging his Anne.

"Parker is staying over at Jenn's place with his buddy Mark tonight. The house is ours." she giggled a little,

"We have dinner reservations at 7:00 PM at L'Escoffier," she allowed, "followed by," and at this point, Anne's hand ran across the front of Don's pants, stroking his rather evident erection, "a quiet evening at home, just the two of us, making up for lost time..."

Don groaned slightly, "Good lord, Anne, be careful down there with your hand. It's been more than a year since my friend last visited a woman. I'm afraid that I'm going to disappoint you, because I'm not sure how long I can last!"

Anne looked at Don with a loving look in her eyes, and reached up put her arms around his neck and kissed him again,

"Baby, it's been ten years for me since the last time anything masculine has taken care of me between my legs, so you've got your work cut out for you," was Anne's response.

"Your gynecologist?" he teased.

"She's a woman, mister. Now that you are officially 'free' and I'm finally getting my shot at you... let me put it this way, I doubt you're going to be walking in the morning!" she claimed, with that look of lust in her eyes. "Don't worry about getting off too quickly the first time. I'll keep you hard all night."

"Good thing I'm the boss then. I'll declare tomorrow a personal holiday!" was Don's wistful reply.

They kissed again, before leaving for dinner.

This story was derived from a situation described in a Sue Grafton mystery. Over several novels, her female detective character becomes involved with a policeman whose wife has first left him for an extended period, taking their two daughters with her, and then moves back in with him, with an announcement that she will live with him, but only if they have an 'open' marriage. I found that to be a perfectly outrageous situation. So I delighted in developing a little scenario in which the man decides to divorce his errant wife, and has his younger, prettier girlfriend serve her with the divorce papers. Of course the characters and actions in this story are completely original, and only the general circumstances are similar to the Sue Grafton novel.