Busted - Sort Of

 

Continuing this story from Facebook…

The morning didn’t go down like the photo, but the image is close enough. I was happily buck naked, rolling the recycle bin to the street, when I noticed the Sheriff’s SUV roll to a stop at the bottom of my driveway. I considered turning around and making a mad dash back to my casita, but I was only a few steps from the curb. I placed the bin and stood firmly behind it, trying to hide my cute and buff, but very naked body.

 The Sheriff got out of her SUV, shaking her head. I know her. She lives a couple of streets over with her boyfriend. She has a pretty name, Heather.“Morning, Sparks,” she said, “We had an alarm go off in the cul-de-sac. You haven’t seen anything strange, have you?”

 I choked and managed “No, nothing out of the ordinary.”

 Heather kept eye contact, carefully ignoring my nudity. “I’ve been up for a while with no coffee. I don’t suppose you could offer me a cup?”

 I think I was precariously near hyperventilating as I gasped, “Sure, come on up.” I turned and walked, as unhurriedly as I could, to the casita, Heather right behind.

As we entered the casita, I said, “One sec, let me put something on.” Heather replied, “No need, you’re inside your house now.”

 I quickly tossed on a tiny house dress anyway, then put the kettle on.

 Heather was hovering in the kitchen, looking out at my back yard oasis, my cozy Sonoran desert retreat. It’s very southwest, colorful, and makes me happy.

“You’ve casita is marvelous! This has to be one of the nicest ones in the ‘hood,” Heather said.

I was unsteady, at best, thinking I was totally busted, as I took a carafe of coffee elixer (I call it that, my own special cold brew) from the fridge. “Have you had breakfast?” I asked. 

She thought a moment and replied, “No, and no wisecracks. I had a day-old donut in my unit.” I laughed and kept the wisecrack that did come to mind to myself.

My kettle is extremely fast. The water was starting to boil now as I poured elixir into two mugs and led Heather to my breakfast table, facing the patio. I was about to explode with emotions.

“Heather, uh, Sheriff, am I busted?” She sipped her coffee. “Deputy. I’m just a Deputy. This is good coffee, cold brew?”

“Yes, I said, "Peruvian medium roast.”

“Excellent.” I waited, watching her savor the coffee. It is excellent, but I could tell she was toying with me.

Finally, she offered, “No, you’re not busted. Most of us know of or have heard about your naughty little recycling habits. In Arizona, if someone is nude in a private setting, such as their own property within a gated community, and there is no visibility to the outside, they may not necessarily be violating any laws. Someone would have to file a complaint for there to be an issue. That’s my take, anyway.

My heart finally had permission to stop racing, and I could exhale. “Thanks, Deputy.”

“Heather. Call me Heather.”

“Okay, Heather. I can’t imagine the odds of you driving by just as I was putting out, I mean, putting out the bin.”

“You wouldn’t believe me how often law enforcement just ‘just happens to be driving by,’ at the most unlikely times. Listen, Sparks, I think your hijinks are a hoot. If I had your bod, I might flaunt it too. How do you do that?”

“Gym rat, four or five times a week. Five to six miles three or four times, running, maybe 30 miles on a bike.”

She looked at me like I was more than a bit off-center. “Jesus.”

"Yeah.”

 “Here’s my official warning. Wear something. If you make an effort, however small, to give the appearance of trying to cover your nipples and slit, you are not technically nude, even if you fail.”

All I could say was, “Thanks. I will.”

"Okay, duty done. May I have another cup?”

Oh hell yes, I thought and made more coffee for us both. We talked over the second cup about the weather, our work, and ICE (she is not a fan). We clicked a little. I sensed we could become friends.

As I walked her out to her SUV and said goodbye, I thanked her again for her understanding and advice and for not busting me.

“Do what I say. You can still show off without risking arrest. If I catch you again, I will not bust you, but I will certainly consider spanking your cute little butt.”

“Police brutality!" I laughed.

“Invite me over for coffee sometime. I’ll bring fresh pastries.”

It happened just that way. 

The River

The sun was setting, creeping down the rim of a side canyon across the river. It allowed a wedge of sunshine on the sandbar that was otherwise already in canyon shade. In my little slice of heavenly light, sitting in a small mesh river chair, the fading blast of the sun’s heat bathed my body in delicious warmth. I had just showered in about a quart of water from a handheld solar shower. Exposing my body directly to the last sunlight dried me quickly and left me feeling warm and toasty and randy. I desperately wanted to touch myself.

Precious moments on the river like this are part of my camp routine. Sometime between rigging the boats, setting up camp, cooking duties, camp games, campfires, and storytelling, I find moments to be with the canyon, the sky, the stars, and myself, nude. There is a peace to be found, away from the passengers, listening to the sounds of the river and wind, an occasional bird, or a jumping fish -- just me among the stone of the canyon and the freedom of the sky. My anxiety, my fear, the agitation of my spirit flow out of me. When it is gone, as a well-known litany of fears says, only I remain.

Cory, one of the 12 participants in our six-day river adventure, drags a river chair over to share my little patch of sun. She’s maybe 30, not quite as petite as I, and a well-muscled triathlete. She isn’t pretty in a girly sense, but her long dark hair and androgenous features fascinate me. I was drawn to her from the moment I saw her at the welcome dinner the night before our trip launch.

Cory plopped her chair down in the last of the sun next to me, sat down, and shivered. The one-piece swimsuit she wore was still wet. She tried drying the suit with a camp towel. She didn’t react to my nudity.

“I should have taken my swimsuit off for the shower,” she said.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked.

“Peer pressure. None of the other girls were getting naked,” she replied.

“Shower nude tomorrow. The others will follow,” I offered. Then, I couldn’t resist. “You can take it off now,” I said, smiling innocently.

What a quizzical look came over her face. She hesitated only slightly, then shed her suit and quickly dried herself before sitting, nude like me, in the warm sunlight.

“Better,” she said, “thanks.”

The sun lasted another ten minutes or so. We soaked up the last of the sun’s glow together, naked as when we were born. It was just enough time for us to connect. Cory and I were definitely on the same wavelength.

With the sun below the canyon walls, it was time for me to help prepare dinner with my trip leader and get our passengers organized for the evening activities. Cory and I walked back to camp together, attracting curious looks and smiles as we found our campsites and got dressed.

 

 

 

Update Dental Hygienist - Amber

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Donut Shop Run!

 

 

I rolled out of bed early this morning as “horny as a ten-peckered owl,” and hungry for … donuts! Feeling feisty and more than a little naughty, I quickly brushed my hair and slipped on a tiny tank dress that I usually wear over a swimsuit. I thought about panties, but noooooo, not today! I drove to the donut shop, strutted in, and unabashedly flashed the shop owner and, oops, omg, unintentionally, two policemen. Ordering three glazed donuts and a light roast coffee to go seemed to take forever as I attempted to keep the hem of my tank top low enough for a modicum of decency. As I left the shop, the owner shouted, “Thanks, Miss, come again!” The cops watched me go, both chuckling and nodding approval. What a rush! When I got home, I enjoyed the best donuts and coffee ever!

Short Dress Surprise

 From my post in Facebook. Some friends who have left Facebook asked me to post this here.

 

 

I went shopping early this morning to beat the 105° heat. Since I was just getting a few groceries and produce at the fresh market, I threw on a super short little cotton dress.

As I was filling my grocery cart, my phone rang. It was my dentist’s office asking if I had forgotten my appointment. Yikes! I had forgotten it because I didn’t add it to my iPhone calendar. I started apologizing, but the receptionist was way ahead of me: my hygienist had an opening now to come right over. “On my way,” I said.

When I arrived at the office, I was ushered straight to a dentist’s chair for my cleaning. Sitting, I immediately regretted my choice of dress. It was so short, in the specialized chair, my lady bits were exposed entirely! I hadn’t bothered with any underwear for the short jaunt to market.

I was panicking, desperately looking for something to cover myself, when I felt my hygienist’s hand on my shoulder. She leaned toward me, whispering, “No worries, I got this.” At which she produced two dentists’ bibs and arranged them over my exposed kitty, securing them with the built-in little Velcro strips.
I was embarrassed, as I finally made eye contact with her. She smiled, a little coyly, and asked, “Is that dress for me, or do you have a date later?”

The cleaning went very well, and we talked as much as possible during a dental cleaning. As she completed a reminder card for my next appointment, she added her personal phone number, drew a little heart, and wrote, “Call me.”  

I shall do that.

Girls Kissing Girls

 I found this .gif for Pride Month. Am unsure if it is appropriate. Your thoughts?

Happy Pride Month 2025

 My favorite photos from Montreal Pride a few years ago.