I was a shy, eighteen year old girl. A little studious and with no really good dress sense. Hair was always in a pony-tail and I never bothered with...make-up. I would clam up when I meet a member of the opposite sex and the boys at college finally gave up trying to entice me out of my clothes. All of which is probably why I wasn’t asked out. My girl-friends, that is friends who were girls, tried to encourage me but I never saw the point and felt I was missing out.At home, I had a normal. Ellie, Trudi and Martha all picked out spots on the aft deck and watched me work the boat out of the harbor.I had to admit to being nervous with four lovers onboard at the same time and three of them with their husbands. I guess my nervousness must have shown because a couple of times, one of the ladies whispered, "Don't worry. Everything will be all right." I finally was able to settle down.The men convinced the women to join them in a card game in the salon, requesting a platter of sandwiches. I was good at my job and thought the time had come to try to move up the ladder. My boss’ name was Audrey. Her moods were as changeable as her wardrobe; a beautiful haute couture queen who rolled through our maze of cubicles every day like a newly waxed Maserati: sleek, expensive and fast. Her husband Dennis owned the company but you seldom saw him. A stodgy square white-bread type who smoked cigars with a piggish air of self-satisfaction. I loathed the sight of him although I had the feeling. For the first time, I noticed that Mom wasn’t just watching us.She was getting herself off as she did.Session A93:“Okay Mom,” I said. “What would make you want to turn our house into a nudist home?”“I don’t want to talk about it.”“Is there anyone you’d talk about it with?”“Yes.”“Would you tell me who?”“Yes.”“Who would you talk about it with?”“Other parents.”I smiled. That was the answer I’d been hoping for.“Hypothetical: in ten years time, I met a nice girl and we start dating.”Nod. Possibly.
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