Chapter 15 Lara Palooza

Kate's Exhibitionist Journey

Chapter 15 - Lara-palooza

In which Kate meets up with Lara, tries to prove a point, and finds her situation spiralling deliciously out of control all over again.

Lara hadn't changed a bit, either.

Again, she really shouldn't have. Despite the story I'd weaved for Becca to explain my trip to the seaside, I wasn't actually here to see an old friend as such. I was here to meet someone I'd only met once before. Someone who was now seeing me, really for the first time, with my clothes on. Which is something I guess only I can say without it sounding

completely

insane!

But still, as she greeted me at her door, she was exactly as I'd remembered her. The same cheerful wit, the same piercing blue eyes, the same long, flowing brown hair, the same delightfully full lips--Um, ahem, yes. She...hadn't changed a bit.

I had arrived a little early, having only stayed on the beach for another hour or so after Becca had left. I'd sunned my bare body for a time, part of me hoping she might make a speedy return, possibly even with a sheepish nude boyfriend in tow. That'd serve him right for calling her boring! But she didn't come back, and that was fine as well. I just hoped I'd done enough to give her own journey a kick start. Why should I have all the fun, after all?

Still, once she had shown no signs of returning, my excitement at being nude with all of the other deeply comfortable nudists around me had begun to wane. So, I packed up my things, allowed myself a final frisson of solo exhibitionism by waiting until the last possible second before getting dressed again on my walk back up the dunes, and then left the crashing waves and the soft sand behind.

I had then grabbed my overnight bag from my car, checked into the distinctly modest hotel I'd booked for the night and grabbed a shower to wash the sand and the brine from my skin to get myself ready for my evening with Lara. I was halfway through applying my makeup when I suddenly felt a little self-conscious. It sort of felt like I was getting ready for a...date? Which was preposterous, obviously. This wasn't a date. Lara was with Liam, and besides, I didn't even like wom--Well, she was with Liam, anyway. That was the important part. This definitely wasn't a date. I was just here to catch up. Nothing else. Remember that, Kate.

To underline that definite fact, I hung up the pretty summer dress I'd worn (

very briefly!

) to the beach and pulled on the plain top and skinny jeans I'd packed in my bag for my drive home tomorrow. That settled it. I'd never wear something this plain and boring on an actual date. Ergo, this wasn't a date. Confirmed.

With that matter settled, I spent a while longer making sure my makeup was as perfect as it could be, then set off for the address Lara had given me. I stopped off along the way to pick up a semi-fancy bottle of wine, the sort that two friends would drink together when they were just catching up and weren't on a date, and then before I knew it, I was knocking on the door of her terraced house a few streets down from the seafront.

She greeted me with a smile and warm hug, and I instantly felt a flash of guilt, recalling the white lies I'd told her, and how she'd explained to me that she had only recently moved out here, and was looking for new friends. Given how happy she was to see a random girl she'd once met on a nude beach, I wondered how well that friendship hunt was going. I had to tell her the truth, I reminded myself. I didn't want to upset her, and I was more than happy to stay in touch with her. In fact, I really, really wanted that. But I needed to tell her the truth.

Then, as it turned out, clumsy old Kate managed to put her foot right in it and upset her before she even got close to that particular subject.

"So," I smiled as she handed me a glass of wine and sat down next to me on her comfy old sofa, "Will Liam be joining us tonight?"

I saw I'd made a faux pas as soon as I said it. Her face failed to hide the instinctive flinch.

"Ah," she winced in her delightful Irish burr, "So, yeah, me and Liam are...not so much a thing any more."

"Oh no!" I gasped immediately and reached out to squeeze her free hand with mine, "I'm so sorry."

She mustered a half-smile and squeezed my hand back. Ugh,

why did that feel so nice??

"It's ok. We're still friends. I think. Maybe. But...he really didn't want to leave London, and I just got bored of the whole 'long distance' thing. So I told him, it was me or the city. Stupid really, I thought there was no way he could resist my charms, but..."

She looked down into her wine glass sadly, and I felt my heart weep. The signs were obvious that she clearly wasn't entirely over him. Part of me felt angry with stupid hunky Liam for breaking her heart. But...part of me felt different. Oh god, was I actually a little bit...excited at the idea of Lara being single?

No, Kate, stop! Firstly, it's totally wrong that that's what you're thinking about when this poor woman clearly isn't over her breakup. She needs a friend right now. That's it. And secondly, why would you think she'd be interested in girls? She was dating a Greek god. Gorgeous Liam, the Adonis you saw naked on the beach, with his lovely big pecs, and his washboard stomach, and his...slightly smaller than average penis. Are you really going to assume she'd be interested in you based solely on her checking you out when you'd been nude next to her? That doesn't mean anything. If you had five pounds for every heterosexual woman who'd been intrigued by the sight of your naked body over the last few weeks, you'd have enough for another session or two with Mistress Veronica!

But then, it wasn't just the looks she'd given me that was making me think this way about Lara. It was another moment. A moment that, on top of all the escalating sexual experiences I'd enjoyed on my journey, from Nicole's fingers, to Ange's tongue, to those four delightful roaming hands after dinner at Veronica's house, had stuck with me. The moment when Lara had gently stroked my bare breast, ostensibly to wipe a drop of cold ice cream that had fallen onto my skin. The first time I'd really been touched by a woman. I still remembered the crackle of fire I had felt throughout my body when she had done it. And that feeling had remained flickering in the back of my mind ever since.

"...Anyway," Lara continued, oblivious to my usual chaotic flurry of internal thoughts, "Long story short, he's not gonna be joining us tonight. So...here's to people who don't live in fucking London, eh?"

She held her glass out in a toast, still holding my hand as she did so.

Oh no.

The guilt inside overwhelmed any other emotions I might have been feeling. The memory of Lara's soft finger tracing its way across my chest vanished back to the depths of my mind. Stupid Kate! What are you even doing here? Why the hell have you driven here again, on a six hour round trip? Knowing that, all the while, Lara thinks you live a ten minute walk away, that you can be her new gal pal while she tries to find her feet, miles away from her old friends. And her now ex-boyfriend. What a mess you've gotten yourself into this time, Kate. And all because of what? Because this nice lady sort of touched your boob once, and now you're obsessed with her?! Grow up, Kate!

I stared back at her, and the wine glass she was holding out for a toast. I considered just perpetuating my innocent little lie that seemed to be getting less innocent and less little by the second. But I couldn't do it. I'd come here on the proviso that I'd tell her the truth, and now seemed like as good a time as any. So, instead of clinking glasses, I took a long gulp of wine from my glass to fortify my resolve, then set the glass down and turned fully to Lara, crossing my legs on the sofa and keeping a hold of her hand as she watched in confusion.

"Ok, um, look, Lara," I began, feeling my skin starting to heat up, "I should tell you--I just...I need to--I want to explain that--I'm...I live in London."

She stared back at me, partly perplexed and also a little amused, as if she wasn't sure whether this was a confession or a really weird joke. I sighed deeply and forced myself to continue. Get everything out, Kate. It's for the best. If she hates you, then she hates you, but at least there'll be no more lies. But...how to explain myself? It took me a few attempts.

"Have you ever seen the episode where Rachel--? I mean, um, the thing is, I was making breakfast this one time, wearing a towel, and-- Um, so, I sort of found that I really liked it when I was--"

This was useless. Lara's expression had shifted further. Now mild irritation seemed to have joined the party along with confusion and amusement. I sighed again, grabbed my wine glass and downed the rest of the burgundy liquid inside, and committed.

"So, when you met me on the beach, I said--I told you that I was a...first time nudist. And that was kind of true, but not entirely. Not really. I guess the truth is that I was still trying to figure out what I was. I thought I just liked being nude, but...it turned out it was more like...I like it when I'm nude around other people. Non-nude people. People who like to, um, look at me...when I'm nude. Look at my body, enjoy w--what they see. I'm sorry, it's all a bit strange when I explain it like this..."

I looked back at Lara, who didn't respond. She just sat, staring at me. But she was still holding my hand, which I took as a good sign. So I continued.

"So, I'd been trying to find some way to...explore all that. And that's why I came here the first time. I drove all the way here from London because of the nude beach. Because I wanted to explore whatever I was. Except, when I met you, and you just assumed I was from around here, I guess I...kinda panicked. And I just played along. I mean, admitting the truth, that I'd committed to driving a six hour round trip just to...take all my clothes off on the beach like that, I guess I thought you'd think I was insane. And to be honest, at the time, I wasn't sure I wasn't insane."

I mustered a limp laugh at this, but Lara just continued to stare.

"So," I persisted, squeezing her hand a little tighter, "I'm really sorry. But it's true. I live in London. I have a stupid apartment that's way too small for how much it costs to rent. I ride the stupid Tube every day to my stupid copywriting job, where I buy a stupid overpriced salad for lunch every day because I'm too stupid to make anything at home and bring it with me. I didn't mean for it to become such a big lie. I just thought I'd never see you again, but then you asked for my number, and...I dunno, I'm just really, really sorry, Lara. And I'm really, really, really stupid."

I looked back at her hopefully, watching her process the confused stream of consciousness I was sending her way. After a second, she shifted in her seat and replied.

"So...why are you here?" she asked, still confused, "Did you drive up here again?"

I wished I had more wine, but I'd already gulped down all the Dutch courage in that glass, and it seemed a bit rude to ask for a top-up right now. Still, I kept to the truth, because she deserved it. So I explained how I'd wanted to tell her everything in person, how I'd hoped to make it another day trip, but when she'd suggested evening drinks I'd ended up booking a hotel, even how I'd spent the afternoon at the nude beach again. And how, even though I'd been so stupid (a fact I kept underlining), I still very much wanted to be friends with her.

"Wow," she managed when I was done, "That's...a hell of a lot to take in. Anything else you want to tell me, Kate?"

I paused for a moment. Her lovely features (

stop it, Kate!

) seemed to have lost their irritation and confusion. She was now just amused and entertained by my words. And whether it was the comfort of seeing that, or the glass of wine I'd just downed, or the feeling of her soft hand holding my own, I suddenly decided to commit even further. I'd come here to tell her the truth. And if she couldn't handle the truth, well, then our friendship wasn't meant to be, I guess. We'd just have to go back to being two random women who lived three hours apart. So...here it was. The truth, and nothing but the truth.

Oh my, I told her everything. Everything that had happened since we had last seen each other. Laying out the delicious details of my whole journey. I told her about my nude breakfasts, about my naked moments in changing rooms on Oxford Street. I told her about the trip to the villa, how I'd spent virtually the entire time there in the nude, indulging my exhibitionist desires in ways I'd never imagined. How I'd discovered my submissive side, my assertive side, my naughty side, and my shameful side. I bashfully told her how I'd been fingered to orgasm by my best friend, and then had another woman go down on me. How I'd been repeatedly spanked on my bare bottom. How I'd been driven miles from the villa, without a stitch of clothing to wear, and how I'd entertained a group of strangers on a secluded beach. How, even after returning home, I'd greeted my best friend in the nude at my front door and then accidentally flashed a delivery guy. And...

oh god!!

...I even told her all about my trip to Mistress Veronica. And everything that had entailed. And I also admitted that I was still not entirely sure what it was that I wanted, or where my journey went from here.

I talked and talked and talked, going from being a pretty little liar to a pretty little oversharer in no time at all. I had bared my body to her when we had first met, and now I was baring everything else. And she just watched and listened. Sometimes gasping, sometimes laughing, sometimes giggling at the more...sordid moments. Oh god, I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't sure if it was the residual guilt of lying to her for so long, but I suddenly felt the urge to be completely and utterly truthful with this woman.

Except for one thing. I didn't mention how I was still hopelessly obsessed with the memory of her finger touching my breast. A girl's gotta have one secret, right?

Eventually, I reached the end of my impromptu and decidedly x-rated TED Talk. And Lara shook her head slowly as she took everything in.

"So, yeah," I managed in summary, "It's been a...busy few weeks."

This made her laugh again. Oh god, I loved that sound. I

loved

it!

"I'll say," she replied eventually, "Holy fuck, Kate. I had no idea that was the sort of girl I was talking to back on the beach that day."

"Neither did I," I shrugged back meekly.

She laughed again and then grabbed the wine bottle where she had set it down next to the sofa and topped up both our glasses with what was left inside. I gratefully took another thirsty gulp as my heart pounded away inside my chest at the thrill and the fear of everything I'd just admitted.

"Although," she continued after a sip from her own glass, "I guess I did sort of think there was something about you, on the beach that day. I couldn't figure you out, but there was definitely something there. More than just a girl who didn't like tan lines..."

I blushed slightly at the memory of the first time I'd used that excuse. It had felt so feeble and flimsy at the time, but in hindsight, it had actually proved to be a surprisingly robust reason to give people as to why you simply had to strip all your clothes off in front of them as soon as possible. People just seemed to accept it without much question.

"But," she conceded, "I'd probably never have guessed that. So...you don't like being naked alone, but you love being naked around other people?"

I blushed a little more, but nodded back. There was more to it than that, I knew, but as a simple explanation, it was good enough.

"Well," she offered with a smile, as she let go of my hand and leaned back a little on the sofa, "You're not alone right now, are you...?"

Oh my god!!

My jaw dropped. Literally. It felt like it physically dropped to the ground, like a character in a silly old cartoon. What was she saying? Was this woman, who I still barely knew, inviting me to strip nude in her living room? Oh god, why was I instantly thinking about doing it? Come on, Kate! Try and keep your clothes on for at least one social interaction in your life!

As soon as she saw my flustered reaction, Lara stifled a grimace.

"Agh. Sorry. I--That was cringey, wasn't it? I mean, if a guy tried a line like that on me, I'd be out the door in a flash."

"No pun intended?" I offered back with a coquettish smile.

Lara chucked, and the mood relaxed again. But I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd just said. I mean, I'd been nude in front of her already. In fact, as I'd noted earlier, this was really the first time she'd seen me with clothes on. But equally, this seemed more illicit than when we'd been hanging out at the beach. It was just the two of us now, indoors. And, while this obviously wasn't a date, if I'd gone round to see a guy and his opening gambit had been to tell me to get undressed, I'd have thrown the rest of my glass of wine in his face and stormed off without a second thought. And yet...here, now, with Lara smiling at me, I couldn't shake the idea from my mind. To be nude again, with Lara.

Eep!!

"Well," I offered thoughtfully, as I sipped my drink, "You're right, I guess. I'm not alone right now..."

I carefully set my wine glass down on the coffee table next to the sofa, doing my best to disguise how much my hand had started to shake. As the now-gobsmacked Lara watched on, I slowly stood up, and before I had a chance to think too much about what I was doing, I reached for the hem of my top and began to pull it upwards.

Almost immediately, I stopped and looked back at her where she sat, open-mouthed.

"I mean," I managed, "Unless...this is weird for you."

I stood there, halfway through taking off my top, my bare midriff already visible to her. And to my relief, rather than looking disgusted or outraged at the sight of what I was clearly about to do, she laughed out loud again.

"Is it weird? That this woman I barely know, who just admitted to driving three hours across the country to have a drink with me, is apparently about to strip all her clothes off in my living room? Yeah, that's weird. That's very weird."

I felt a little sheepish as she laid it all out like that, and began to lower my top back down. But she continued, with a happy glint in her eye.

"Lucky for you, Kate, I like weird. And I'm especially starting to like your kind of weird. So, you do what you've gotta do."

She leaned further back on the sofa and gestured for me to continue, sipping her wine as she prepared to watch the impromptu strip show. For a moment, I remained exactly where I was. Her words seemed to linger with me.

Do what you've gotta do.

I mean, I didn't

have

to do any of this. Despite how it sometimes felt, there was no ethereal force at play here that compelled me to strip nude at every turn. I was just here for a glass of wine and a chat, after all. Which I could certainly do while remaining clothed. And yet, it felt like she'd laid down a challenge. Like I'd entered into a strange game of chicken. Would she stop me before I got completely undressed, would I have an attack of modesty before I got to my underwear? And...why was I even thinking so much about this? I'd happily taken my clothes off in front of plenty of people by now. I'd even been nude the last time I'd met Lara. So...why did this feel different, if I was to take my clothes off with her when it was just the two of us, in her house, on what was definitely not a date--?

Oh, stop it, Kate! Stop overthinking everything! You know what you want to do! Just do it!