At the moment I’m probably in the best shape I’ve ever been in my life, which is probably why my desire to show off has exploded having gone from teasing and feigned naiveté to outright exhibitionism on several occasions in the past few months. Trying to think of a situation that would allow me to be naked for a prolonged period of time and let me tease the hell out of the people around me has been challenging but I finally managed to arrange it.
It all started with a telephone call to my favourite running shop, now I buy new trainers from them at least twice a year and it seems I buy new equipment at least once a month which is often enough for the highly professional and knowledgeable staff to recognise me on sight. I also have my gait analysed there at least once a year, which is what I decided to take advantage of. As some of you may already know running without the support and constraints provided by clothing imposes a completely different range of demands on the body and as such your running style changes accordingly.
So I rang the store and asked for the manager (Emma), at first the assistant tried to field the query themselves but finally gave in and put her on the phone. I spoke first “Hi Emma, no idea if you remember me but it’s Alice Fisher here, I need to buy some new trainers and would like to book a gait analysis”. The manager was very polite and said that this would not be a problem and started to ask for the necessary details before I interrupted with “before you take the booking there’s a reason I asked to speak to you rather than the assistant…”, letting the sentence hang in the air. I waited for her to ask me to continue.
“Now let me say that I’ve used you for years since the service is amazing and I’ve never had a blister or chafe wearing any of the gear you’ve recommend me…” she was glad to hear this but seemed to be wondering where I was going with this, “and I want to emphasise that what I’m about to say is not a joke… ” a pause with an embarrassed silence on my part before she said “come on then” in a puzzled voice. I finally responded “well the problem is I’ve never had any blisters while wearing the gear you’ve recommended me… but as a nudist I don’t always have the opportunity to wear it while competing”. At this point she burst out laughing on the other end of the phone.
Once she calmed down a bit I responded “I know, I know but I think you can guess what I’m asking now. Is there any way you can arrange for me to have my gait analysis in a more natural state?”, to her obvious question I pointed out that while running clothing was skin tight it provided a lot of support. After a pause while trying to remain professional and no doubt unwilling to let a good story and an excellent sale go she stated “Okay then, we close at 5pm if you want to pop in at the end of the day I’m sure we can help you. Have to say this is a first”. I thanked her and hung up the phone before sinking down heavily into my seat, I had not actually expected her to say yes but had simply wanted the fun of buying from them later in the month.
It should also be worth pointing out that I knew Thursday was her night off so her young male assistant would be shutting up shop for her. This was too good an opportunity to miss, especially since I knew the first thing she would do on putting the phone down was explain exactly why she was laughing. I would have chosen this night anyway for reasons to be divulged later but for now I booked myself in for a mommy wax (underneath and back only, I’m not a naturally hairy person but it seemed a nice idea since I would certainly be under close scrutiny and it is a good way of removing the fig leaf without being too blatant). It was only Tuesday and my teaching went to hell over the next two days.
After school finished on the Wednesday I skipped the department meetings to keep an appointment at the salon… which is to say officially I was going to a house viewing in the next town over. On the outside it would appear to be a less than salubrious establishment, positioned between a tattoo parlour and a shop that sells strictly ornamental decorative glass tubes, but inside it really is a state of the art establishment and most importantly spotless.
The reception area is always fun since not only is it used by most of the strippers from the nearby venues (very expensive places) but most of the solicitors, firewomen, accountants and anyone else who can afford the owners peak time prices. The regulars will chat happily but it’s always fun seeing the newer word of mouth clients who are still not entirely sure what they are letting themselves in for. The lady who carries out the dilapidation procedures is long past retirement age though in appearance and outlook you would never realise (please let me grow old like her!) but it’s her experience that really counts here. As soon as I walk through the door we exchange greetings and I quickly strip off the sensible clothing I wear for teaching, everything except my socks because the floor is always freezing.
Once undressed I hopped up onto the table and discussed with the owner what I wanted doing, almost like you would in a hair salon. I decided to get the painful part out of the way first and had her do under my arms, not something I normally bother with (again I’ve never really been all that hairy) but it’s the husbands Birthday soon and I know he prefers them that way. Then I moved my legs into the 8:20 position and lay back so she could remove any of the fluff that had snuck underneath. Finally the least dignified part of the whole procedure, where I lie face down on the table bent at the knees using with one hand on each side making sure my buttocks were as far apart as possible. In most places they would do this themselves one cheek at a time, but by helping out she finishes in half the time and does a far better job.
I love her chatter as she goes about her business, but apparently since I last visited they had introduced a new service, anal bleaching, and thought that now with my anus thoroughly exposed this would be the best time to bring the matter up. I’m sure some people would have taken offence but I found it hilarious and was struggling to remain in position as she continued with her waxwork. Especially at the end when she shows you her work and your end result using a mirror. I was able to confidently state that it was already beautifully pink, and anyone who wanted it paler was probably not going to see it anyway, which caused her to grin. She did have one last attempt at convincing me to try by offering to let me see end result on one of her other clients who was in the waiting room and while I will admit to being curious time was short so I did have to decline.
In return for a free session I have allowed one of her more worried potential customers sit in while I’ve had this exact same treatment before. She started off nervous but by the end I kept expecting to see her using a magnifying glass to inspect the work. Still with the treatment over I pulled a light travelling dress over my head and put on my shoes, the sensible outfit folded carefully into the bag for the next day. Underwear really isn’t an option after these sessions as everything is far too sensitive.
As I left I did have to wonder which of the other ladies in the room was in for that treatment, and though I’m pretty sure nobody saw I drove home with the seatbelt securing my dress just under my bust. When I returned home my husband was already there, and was happy to confirm I did not need any bleaching.
(Thanks to the wonderful person who found this part of the story, need to find part 2 now!)