Time with Diana Ch. 03

Chapter 3: A Passion for Public Nudity

We have seen in the first two chapters that Diana had an obsession with showing off her body in public. She designed and selected clothes on this basis. She carefully planned where and how she could exhibit herself. She luxuriated in the reactions of people to her nakedness. Most of all, she appreciated my complicity in this planning, the actual episodes, and the de-briefing after each event.

The lease on her apartment was about to end, and we planned for her to move in with me. But the weekend before this I stayed at her apartment. She borrowed a camera from her friend Alice, who was a Junior Account Executive at a large Advertising Agency. As day was breaking we took photos of her outside various landmarks. She wore an overcoat she had brought over from London. At each location she would pose, then drop the coat to expose her complete nakedness while I took the photo, and then put the coat back on. We would then drive to the next location. At first we selected sites familiar to us -- outside the offices where we worked, the hotels we frequented, the Club, the nearest Police Station, and as it was very early, there was little chance of being seen.

Eventually we worked our way into the CBD, and were heading for the Opera House, when we approached a bus at a Circular Quay terminus. The driver was standing outside the bus, having a quiet smoke. Putting on her best British accent, she asked the driver if he would mind having her boyfriend take a photo of the two of them standing next to the bus. As he agreed, she posed next to him, smiled, dropped the coat and politely inquired "You don't mind, do you?"

Leaving him somewhat dazed, we moved down to the ticket booth for the Manly Ferry. The lady was just opening the booth. Standing beside the booth, with the lady at the window, the coat was dropped, and the photo taken.

"I hope you didn't mind?" Diana asked politely with the same British accent.

"If I was as young as you, with such a beautiful body, I might be tempted to do the same thing" was the response.

Moving on to the Opera House steps, we encountered the predictable Japanese tourists, cameras clicking as they excitedly viewed and posed. A group of three guys motioned for us to take a photo of them with the Sails in the background. Diana then asked them if I could take a photo of her with the guys together. The coat came off, and there was much enthusiastic mumbo jumbo as they posed with her. Naturally they each wanted to take their own photo of this strange and unique Australian custom. This took enough time for other early-morning tourists to notice, want a closer look, and to take their own photos. Diana happily posed away, completely nude, for three to five minutes, to the combined appreciative gathering of about 12 to 15 people, both men and women.

Moving on up to Hyde Park, Diana posed beside a sleeping vagrant who was lying on a bench beside the fountain. There were now more people about, but this only added to Diana's enjoyment, although she did not linger long as she noticed some children approaching.

Next stop was the Underground Rail Station at the Town Hall. Down on the platform, a train stopped, a couple of people alighted, a few boarded, and Diana dropped the coat and stepped onto the train naked. On hearing the signal that the doors were about to close automatically, she got back off, and the train departed with Diana waving to the dumbfounded faces crowding the windows.

With her coat back on, we were leaving the station to go home, when she noticed a uniformed attendant manually adjusting the Indicator that showed what trains left which platforms for what stops at what times. Again, in the English accent, she asked for a photo with him in front of this Indicator. Although there were now at least 20 people studying the panel, Diana again dropped the coat for my photo, to the generous applause of the commuters, and the look of utter disbelief on the face of the attendant.

The next morning (Sunday) we resumed our adventures in Bondi, in front of the places I had lived in as a child, my school, the church and the shop we patronised. It was too early for anyone to be up and about. We then moved down to the beach, where we came across two older surf club members studying the surf in front of the club. The routine was repeated, the accent, the request, the dropping of the coat and the quasi-apology. While still naked, Diana asked if they had a club cap that she could have for a photo. One of the guys said he would get one, and in a few moments emerged from the club, not only with the cap, but with two more club members and their March Past flag. There were more photos as a few early morning walkers and joggers stopped to watch.

Back in the car, and driving past the golf course, we targeted a quartet on the tee, waiting to hit up onto a short par 3. The same routine was followed, and more photos, including one of Diana trying to hit a ball with a borrowed club.

We took some shots outside the school at which I had taught, and the cemetery across the road.

Down at Watsons Bay Wharf, we approached two figures who were fishing. They both looked like men, but as Diana enquired about a photo, the answer came from a female voice. Using the polite British accent, Diana asked if they would mind if she was nude for the photos.

"Just don't excite the old bloke too much," was the response. "His ticker, you know."

I took a few shots of Diana using a fishing rod, and holding up a fish he had already caught. Then, walking back down the pier, we saw a bike rider waiting for us. He was attired like a pro -- helmet, singlet, bicycle shorts, gloves and shoes -- and he possessed a very flash-looking bike.

"How about a few photos with the bike?" he propositioned.

We spent more than 5 minutes with this guy. Diana posed with him behind the bike, on the bike, with his helmet and gloves on, and she rode the bike a short distance around the park as I took more shots (all without the coat, of course). We took his address and promised to send him some copies of the photos.

The next weekend, she moved in with me. Two young guys shared the apartment next to mine. I had rarely seen or talked to them, but they offered to help carry Diana's things up while I went back to her flat for the rest. Later that morning we shared a few beers with them. Rodney and Allan were their names, aged 26 (about Diana's age) and both were accountants. One worked in a bank close to where we worked, the other for a big Australian company in the CBD. They played in the same squash team, and warned us that their last match for the season was on the coming Thursday, and that the team and a few friends were going back to their apartment after the match, for a few drinks. "It might be a little noisy, but it won't be late, as we all have work the next day. You can join us if you like."

As it happened, I had to work in Canberra that day, and was on a 9pm flight back, and was not home until after 10.30. Diana was ready to party. The blouse she had selected was one she had designed and made -- sleeveless, but with extra deep and wide arm holes, so that plenty of tit was on display through these gaps if she wore no bra (I don't believe she even owned one), and held her arms up or out, and bent forward a little. The skirt was quite conservative, but I knew there would be no knickers underneath. The party did break up early, as predicted, so we were left with Rod and Allan, chatting over a few beers.

"I forgot to tell you, I got our photos back from Alice" Diana mentioned to me at one point, making sure the others heard.

"Why don't you bring them in?" one of the boys suggested.

"I don't think so. They're a little personal" was the demure, but insincere response.

This only whetted the appetites, and finally Diana was prevailed upon. "I've actually spent the evening putting them into an album, and annotating them."

As you might imagine, the boys were engrossed in the album, as Diana enthusiastically explained the location and circumstances of each shot. The boys were obviously shocked and delighted by Diana's lack of any inhibition.

One of them had a camera, and suggested a few shots to add to her album. "Only if we get shots of you guys naked, and me dressed, first" she bargained. "Then I'll do some naked, with you guys dressed."

And so our relationship was cemented. Rod and Allan became eager and imaginative collaborators in our exploitation of Diana's penchant for exhibitionism. And having abetted the production of Diana's album with camera and film development, Alice soon joined us. In fact, Alice became very helpful in assisting Diana exploit my own obsession to be naked in public. (see "My Life as an Exhibitionist").

Each plan became bolder, adventurous and exhilarating. With the passage of time, I cannot recall the exact order, and maybe I have forgotten some of the individual escapades, but here are some of Diana's "dares".

Adjacent to a nearby park was a four-rink lawn bowls club. On a Saturday morning, with all rinks in use, Diana entered the gate wearing nothing but one of my T shirts. She walked to the front of the clubhouse, removed the shirt, and then strolled nonchalantly along the path separating the rinks and scaled the low fence into the park where we waited with a dress she quickly put on.

As a nearby shopping mall was opening on a Saturday morning, she went into the ladies room, removed her dress, and came out giving the dress to Rod. She then walked casually and naked through the mall to the entrance, where Allan waited with the car, engine running, and as I took photos. On reaching the car, Allan edged it forward several times, exposing Diana to more shoppers as they crossed the car park to the mall.

When finally we all got in the car, Diana stayed naked. As we drove down the main road, on the beach front, we saw about 20 people waiting for a bus. Diana asked to turn the car back. She got out 50 metres before the bus stop, casually walking past it and telling the folks what a beautiful day it was. She then got back in the car, 50 or so metres past the bus stop.

Almost opposite this stop was a cinema. Nearby were several facilities to house the "over 55s". On Sunday evening, about 6pm, the cinema advertised "the Pensioner Double Header" -- two movies at a discounted rate for those on a pension. This was always well-attended. People bought their tickets, and had to queue out into the street and along the footpath waiting for the afternoon show to finish. We dared Diana to get out of the car, walk naked by several cafes, past the entire length of the pensioner queue to the corner, wait to cross the busy road at pedestrian lights, cross and meet Alice's car on the other side of the road.

On another Saturday morning, Diana, Alice and I boarded a bus for a few stops before another busy shopping mall. Approaching the stop before the mall, I pressed the button for the bus to stop. Diana and Alice both stood, lifted their dresses over their heads, gave them to me, and then walked down the aisle of the crowded bus, completely naked. When they got off, they waited for about 30 seconds until Allan and Rod met them with coats.

My apartment was on the first floor of a low rise block. The complex's car park was under this first floor. Beside our balcony was a single dwelling with a high pitched slate roof. The French doors leading to the balcony had glass at the top, timber at the bottom. One morning Diana noticed two young guys on the roof, repairing tiles. They could look straight through the glass of our French doors at about eye level. It was before work, and Diana was naked, making coffee, when she noticed them looking.

Pretending not to see them, she walked to the bathroom where I was shaving, told me what was happening, and asked me to open the French doors, so they could see her completely. She then spent the next 5 to 10 minutes making toast, and otherwise busying herself, while I surreptitiously observed them from our bedroom window. No work was being done. They were enjoying the show. The next morning they were back on the roof, but our French doors were now wide open. Diana repeated her performance. She looked up and met their gaze. Brazenly she walked out onto the balcony and, fully naked, started up a conversation with them. They were less than 30 feet away. This was repeated the next two mornings until their work was finished.

Rod and Allan were helping to raise money to send their squash club champion to Perth for the Australian titles. They had planned a barbecue at the club to sell beer and hamburgers. The takings would be very modest, and the likelihood of raising enough money with similar ventures looked bleak. Diana and Alice offered to play a set of squash naked (except for shoes) for an entrance fee, and to price the drinks and food higher. This was then raised to the girls staying naked, and serving the drinks and food at an even higher price. The event was a sell out, and their champ went to Perth.

At about this time, homosexuals were having "Coming Out" parties, at which they announced to the world their sexual preferences. We gave Diana an "Exhibitionist Coming Out Party" at the home of Rod's parents, who were on an overseas holiday. We all invited some friends, both male and female, and finished with a crowd of about 60. The hostess met the invitees at the front door, fully naked, and escorted them out to the pool area, introducing them to other guests. She then moved from group to group, as any hostess would do, serving wine and canapés, and discussing openly, and without embarrassment, her obsession.

Rod and Allan had a friend who was marketing manager at a famous local sports store. They planned a mid-season calendar with Diana as the model wearing various items of sporting equipment, but otherwise naked. The calendar was to be distributed to various suppliers and sporting clubs. Diana's face was not to be shown. On the day of the shoot we had a plethora of "helpers". The professional cameraman had two assistants. There were 5 store staff to help with equipment selection. Rod, Allan and Alice had invited a few friends. For quite a while things proceeded without incident. Diana modelled tennis shoes, racquets, wrist bands and caps. She posed with fishing gear, badminton equipment, boxing gloves and headgear, snorkels and flippers and then cricket bats, pads, helmets and gloves.

She was then dressed in wicket-keepers' pads, shoes, helmet and gloves, crouching in typical wicket-keeper stance. It was then that I noticed her shaved pussy was quite open, becoming moist and inflamed, and the smell of her sex was becoming quite evident. After this sequence we went to a billiard table, for a few shots of her using a cue. The photographer asked her to lean forward as much as possible to get her tits resting on the table, surrounded by billiard balls. To maximise the shot, he wanted her to lift a leg along the edge of the table, standing only on the toes of one foot. One of his assistants helped position the leg along the table, then stepped back, exclaiming what a great shot we would get from the back. Diana asked me to make sure this pose would be "tasteful".

Well, it depended on one's taste. To me it was delicious. The pussy was wide open, the inner lips bright red and glistening with her juices. Diana's odour was now intense. The decorum of the shoot was now abandoned, and Diana allowed herself to be photographed from the rear, close up. A shot was taken with her standing, the cue's end on the floor, and passing up through the pussy lips wrapped around the middle of the cue, to her hand. She sat up on the table over a pocket, with her legs at 90 degrees along the edge of the table, with her pussy wide open over the pocket as a few balls were rolled down towards the pocket. She was breathing heavily. I told her to let herself go. She was swooning. She rubbed her tits with one hand, her pussy with the other. I was afraid she would fall off the table, so I urged her to manoeuvre forward onto the table.

Eventually she was at the centre of the table, fingers working her pussy, back arched, legs apart, as a child's floatie was eased under her bottom. And the table was surrounded by the audience, captivated by the performance. Finally she sighed my name, shuddered, squirmed and allowed the orgasm to come. For a few moments she was almost comatose, but then she opened her eyes, took in the scene of observers, and embarrassed, she jumped off the table, and ran to the room where she had left her clothes. Five minutes later, dressed, she had regained her composure, and listened attentively to the various comments coming from her audience, laughing, and obviously enjoying the debriefing

From this time on, mere nakedness in public was not enough. Other fantasies needed to be given life.

(To be continued...)