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LINKS
HOT LINKS     |
15/05/2010
One hot summer in the eighties, my friend Jenny and I decided to go nude swimming at midnight in a tiny place called Thurstaston, which is located on an estuary in the north west of England.
We drove to the place in her car, which we parked on a boat slipway at the river’s edge. After having stripped off, we left our clothes and shoes on the back seat of the car and dived into the water, which was really refreshing. After swimming around for about an hour I lost sight of her. I was a bit worried in case she’d got into difficulties in the water. However, my anxiety turned to horror when I heard the car engine start and she drove off, leaving me alone and nude on the beach.
Naturally, I was absolutely furious, but all I could do was sit on some rocks totally naked and hope that she would return. Luckily for me, the night was still very warm.
After about an hour I heard the approaching sound of not one, but two cars. Fearing that Jenny had returned with some “spectators”, I immediately dived back into the water in order to provide at least some cover for my bare body.
Then I heard Jenny and another female voice calling my name from the slipway, so I swam towards them and padded up the slope. To my surprise, the other woman was a uniformed blonde policewoman in her mid-twenties.
Apparently, Jenny’s original plan had been to drive about a mile away to a secluded lane and get dressed before returning for me within 15 minutes or so. However, the prank went wrong when she had been pulled over en route by the police officer, who had spotted Jenny driving naked and was quite reasonably curious as to why she was doing so. It had taken a lot longer than quarter of an hour for Jenny to convince the officer that she was telling the truth about what was going on…
At least the policewoman had allowed Jenny to put her clothes back on before they drove back to me at Thursaston. I felt extremely embarrassed and under-dressed as I self-conciously stood nude in the company of two fully-dressed women!
These days there’s an annual charity walk I take part in, and the route takes us past the very same boat slipway at Thurstaston. I swear that my fellow-walkers can see me blushing at the memory of what happened to me there.
We drove to the place in her car, which we parked on a boat slipway at the river’s edge. After having stripped off, we left our clothes and shoes on the back seat of the car and dived into the water, which was really refreshing. After swimming around for about an hour I lost sight of her. I was a bit worried in case she’d got into difficulties in the water. However, my anxiety turned to horror when I heard the car engine start and she drove off, leaving me alone and nude on the beach.
Naturally, I was absolutely furious, but all I could do was sit on some rocks totally naked and hope that she would return. Luckily for me, the night was still very warm.
After about an hour I heard the approaching sound of not one, but two cars. Fearing that Jenny had returned with some “spectators”, I immediately dived back into the water in order to provide at least some cover for my bare body.
Then I heard Jenny and another female voice calling my name from the slipway, so I swam towards them and padded up the slope. To my surprise, the other woman was a uniformed blonde policewoman in her mid-twenties.
Apparently, Jenny’s original plan had been to drive about a mile away to a secluded lane and get dressed before returning for me within 15 minutes or so. However, the prank went wrong when she had been pulled over en route by the police officer, who had spotted Jenny driving naked and was quite reasonably curious as to why she was doing so. It had taken a lot longer than quarter of an hour for Jenny to convince the officer that she was telling the truth about what was going on…
At least the policewoman had allowed Jenny to put her clothes back on before they drove back to me at Thursaston. I felt extremely embarrassed and under-dressed as I self-conciously stood nude in the company of two fully-dressed women!
These days there’s an annual charity walk I take part in, and the route takes us past the very same boat slipway at Thurstaston. I swear that my fellow-walkers can see me blushing at the memory of what happened to me there.
Poster:
Carol T.
