Still nude, we followed Deb back to the reception area where Melissa was waiting with our clothes. “You want to follow Doctor’s advice and leave these off?” Caitlyn asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
We took our clothes in our arms and walked out of the office. The office was on the second floor. We took the steps down to the lobby and exited without seeing anyone. It was October, so the sun was setting, but you could still see clearly. There were other cars and people in the parking lot. I don’t know if they noticed the two naked people who left the office building, got into a car, and drove off.
In the car, Caitlyn said, “that was fun!”
“What did you enjoy most?” I asked.
“You and me standing in the hallway naked, talking to the four doctors in clothes while other clothed people walked by,” Caitlyn answered.
“Why did you enjoy that?” I probed.
“Well, several things about it were fun, I think,” Caitlyn said. “For one thing, we seemed more naked since every else was dressed. The contrast of us being naked and them being dressed drew attention to us. I also felt like we were enjoying a special privilege. We got to be naked while they all had to stay dressed. It was also fun to be naked in a place where people don’t usually go naked.”
“You liked the fact that attention was drawn to your naked body?” I asked.
Caitlyn giggled. “You know I like that,” she answered. “You like people looking at your naked body too.” She knew me too well.
“Do you think Deb Braxton set that up so we would be the only naked people with clothed people around us?” I asked.
“Of course, she did,” Caitlyn responded. “We need to thank her for that. I hope we get more opportunities to be the only naked people somewhere.”
I was driving very carefully. Still, as I turned into our street, I saw a cop car behind us. I turned into our driveway and pushed the garage door opener. The cop car stopped in front of our house. “Please don’t get out of the car until the garage door’s down,” I told Caitlyn.
We heard our front doorbell as we went into the house from the garage. Caitlyn looked out a window and said, “it’s only Sherry Holden.” She went to the door and opened it.
Sherry walked in in full uniform. Although Sherry had seen us naked and fucking before, it still felt odd to be standing naked in front of a uniformed police officer. “Are you guys always naked at home?” Sherry asked.
“Of course,” Caitlyn replied.
Sherry thought for a moment before saying, “that does sound nice. I realized I never gave you a copy of the drone video.” She held up a flash drive. “Here it is. Craig and I have watched it several times and, each time, it got us going.”
“Craig?” I asked.
“My boyfriend,” Sherry answered. To Caitlyn, she added, “He thinks you have a very hot body. It almost makes me jealous.”
“It’s too late in the year to use the pool,” Caitlyn said, “but we had a sauna and a hot tub put in. Why don’t the two of you come over some time and use it with us. Then, Craig can see us naked side-by-side.”
“Let me think about that one,” Sherry replied.
One of Caitlyn’s professors from the Music School called a couple of days later. The City’s symphony orchestra, which had an international reputation, was starting a program to encourage local talent. The professor wanted Caitlyn to know he had sent the symphony’s music director a recording of Caitlyn’s piano concerto. About a month later, Caitlyn got an invitation to meet with the orchestra’s music director. That led to Caitlyn being “commissioned” to write a full symphony to be finished in 18 months. Caitlyn would be paid $ 2,000 for the composing with no guarantee the orchestra would perform her work. However, if the orchestra decided to perform her work, she’d be paid an added $ 10,000.
You’ll notice some significant time has passed in this narrative without mention of my daughter Amanda. After graduation, Amanda and Simone had both taken jobs with the non-profit they had worked for during the summers, Sustain The Lakes, Inc., based in Milwaukee. They weren’t paid much, but STL had an arrangement with a major university in Wisconsin that, so long as the girls stayed with STL, they could pursue Master’s degrees tuition-free. Amanda talked to Caitlyn more often, and more candidly, than she did to me. It was a while before I learned, from Caitlyn, that Amanda and Simone had formed a threesome with STL’s executive director, a 34-year-old named Justin DeMarco. Given that I had married Amanda’s best friend from high school, who was I to criticize?
We’d made it through the holidays. Amanda had called but had stayed up north with her lovers Simone and Justin. Caitlyn’s workload of film music, and the symphony, caused her to think we could not visit her mother in Florida. Except for a New Year’s Eve party at the Braxton’s (clothed, sadly), we spent a quiet nude holiday together. It didn’t have the excitement of some prior holidays, but it may have been the nicest.
Between Christmas and New Year, Caitlyn got a call from Sherry Holden. “She was more comfortable talking to me than you,” Caitlyn said. “She’s talked to her boyfriend. They’d like to come over, but they aren’t sure whether they want to go nude in the sauna or hot tub. I told them we’d fix dinner and stay clothed through dinner. We can talk about it. They can bring suits and wear them if they really don’t want to strip off, but Sherry understands that you and I will get naked after dinner and stay that way.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s fine. When are we going to do this?”
“Saturday the eighth,” Caitlyn said. “A week after New Year’s. Sherry that, after the first of the year, she won’t be on duty weekend nights anymore unless someone else is out.”
It started snowing in the middle of the afternoon on the eighth. Caitlyn and Sherry talked by phone about whether to postpone, but someone’s weather app said the snow would be light and stop in early evening. We decided to go ahead.
It wasn’t until she walked in the door in a sweater and jeans that I realized I’d never seen Sherry before other than in uniform. She looked much less intimidating in street clothes. She carried some extra pounds, but she was cute, and she seemed even friendlier out of uniform.
Sherry’s boyfriend, Craig Watters, was a probation officer. He had been in the Army infantry, I learned, and had been one of the last US soldiers to leave Afghanistan. “Never should have been there to start with,” he said. “The people may not have wanted the Taliban, but all they wanted from us was as much of our money as they could take.” Sherry and Craig were, in at least one respect, well matched. Sherry’s personality and attitudes were almost the opposite of those of the stereotypical cop. Craig, I learned, was anything but a stereotypical soldier/veteran. He was, however, much more reserved than Sherry.
Over dinner, we talked about our town, the abutting city, politics, Caitlyn’s music, and nudism. I let Caitlyn take the lead talking about nudism, thinking it would sound less threatening coming from a beautiful young woman rather than a middle-aged man. With the conversation and dinner, the four of us managed to consume three bottles of wine. We also did not notice that the snow hadn’t stopped, it was coming down harder.