Spring Rounds
by Jacqueline Jillinghoff
Copyright© 2013 by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Chapter 1

The atmosphere is not a perfume ... it has no taste
of the distillation ... it is odorless,

It is in my mouth forever ... I am in love with it,

I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised
and naked,

I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

— Leaves of Grass

I’d barely been naked all winter. “Barely naked” is redundant though, isn’t it? I guess I mean “hardly naked.” Right after Christmas, Mom and Dad caught me nude for the first time since I was little, and after Mom got over being mad, we had a lot of fun with it. I even got to sit through an entire movie with nothing on — and I mean in a theater. But it got cold in January, before I had a chance to really explore my new freedom, and if it was a choice between showing off my body and not freezing my nips off, I elected to cover up. Even sleeping naked was uncomfortable. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a bad case of chilly-butt, and as much as I hated to do it, I’d get up and put on my flannel nightie. After a couple weeks, the Naked Family Christmas was pretty much forgotten, and I got used to hanging out in sweaters and wooly socks. My parents didn’t say anything, but I’m sure they were relieved — especially Dad. He says it’s “inappropriate” for me to be naked in front of him. Which is another way of saying it makes him hard.

If they thought I was going to be a modest little nun from now on, though, they were sadly mistaken. I guess I was mistaken, too. I really hoped I could get over it. It’s dumb and risky to take my clothes off all the time. It’s gotten me into trouble at school, but risk is half the fun, and when the weather finally got warm again, I couldn’t resist the urge.

Sometimes a girl has got to be naked.

It hit me on a Saturday afternoon near the end of March. Mom was off teaching, and I was helping Dad with spring cleaning, dusting and vacuuming in the living room while he scrubbed the bathroom tile. We’d thrown open every window in the house to air the place out, and a muggy breeze was lapping my face like a big slobbery dog. Suddenly, I wanted to feel it all over. There was no thought behind it, no struggle with my conscience, not even a moment when I told myself, Yeah, do it. It was what my science teacher calls a quantum jump: one second my sweats were on my back, the next they were in a heap on the sofa. The air was so yummy I thought I was going to come right then, but I managed to go on with my vacuuming. (Everything’s more fun nude.) Naturally, between the noise of the vacuum and the throb in my pussy, I didn’t realize Daddy was done in the bathroom until the vacuum suddenly went dead.

I twisted around, and there he was with the plug in his hand.

“Oh dear,” he said, looking at my butt. “This again?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “I shouldn’t be doing chores barefoot.”

This was the moment to settle which one of us was really in charge. If I could get away with being naked in the living room, I could get away with it anyplace, and we wouldn’t have all the drama we had last Christmas.

“Just don’t let the neighbors see you,” he said.

“Afraid they’ll find out your daughter’s a nudist?” I said.

“I don’t know if you’re a nudist or an exhibitionist.”

But his eyes never left my bare bottom. It had been an easy victory. I turned toward the front window and stood with my legs apart, and my hands on my head.

“You should try it,” I said. “The air feels so nice.”

He got quiet. Facing the window, I didn’t know if he was looking at me, if he’d given up and left the room, or what. Then I felt his hands on my shoulders, and his mouth on my neck, and his bare body against my back.

“Does feel as nice as the air?” he asked.

“Better.”

His hands went down my front, gliding over my titties and stomach, and he slipped a finger into my hairless crack.

“Yeah,” I said. “Lots better.”

“Promise me, though,” he said.

“OK ... what?”

“Don’t let anybody see you.”

His finger was far between my legs now, and his penis was growing along my spine.

“Promise me,” he repeated.

“‘K,” said. “I promise ... Do that. Do that more!”

I wasn’t so sure who was in charge now.

I’m proud to say I kept my promise to Daddy for a whole week, which I think was pretty good But finally I had to give in. It was nighttime, though, so I told myself it didn’t count. Mom and Dad had taken me to one of their gigs. They belong to a regional orchestra that plays at the big Jewish center not far from us. They did some Mozart and Haydn and Beethoven’s Fourth. It was really good, but it started late, because the conductor showed up drunk. At least, that’s what Daddy said. We all went right to bed when we got home. Dad and Mom said they were dead tired, but I guess they weren’t too tired to fool around. I could hear them from across the landing. I took off all my clothes and got into bed with the covers down and my door open a crack. I fingered myself listening to them, but I couldn’t put myself over. I couldn’t sleep, either, even after they got quiet. My mouth was dry, and my armpits felt damp. I kept tossing and turning, and thinking about how nice a night it was.

Finally, I looked at my digital clock. It was one-thirty.

“Screw this,” I thought, and all at once my heart was going a mile a minute. I knew what I was going to do. What I had to do.

I got up and, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs, I listened at my parents’ door. One of them was snoring. It sounded like Mom. I thought of going back to my room for my sweatshirt or my nightie — something I could throw on if I got caught. But then I thought, Nah. I had to be far from my clothes, or I wasn’t really naked.

My heart was still racing as I padded downstairs. My chest felt tight and my legs were trembling. I had to lean against the wall and take a couple of deep breaths. It was crazy, but I couldn’t stop, and I didn’t want to. It was like it wasn’t even me doing it. It was my body, or whatever was controlling it, acting on its own.

I went out through the kitchen. The back door made a kind of sucking sound when I opened it. It was quiet, but the way I felt, with my nerves on edge and my senses super-heightened, it seemed awfully loud. My hand shook while I made sure the doorknob would turn from the outside. Then I carefully pushed open the screen door and slipped out, pulling the main door all the way shut behind me.

Going outside naked is like taking off my last piece of clothing. I mean, I go naked inside all the time, but that’s inside. It’s private. It’s like I’m still wearing my house, if you know what I mean. Out on the back steps, I was truly, totally naked.

I stood still for a minute while I got used to the darkness, and to the exposure. I raised my arms, like I did in the living room, and let the night air lick the sweat from my armpits. It was a little chilly out, but just enough to make me more aware of my body. A big half-moon was rising over our garage. It was bright in the clear sky, and it turned my skin a silvery blue. I looked like a ghost with purple nipples. My pussy-groove was nothing but a shadow as thick as my little finger.

My body felt new to me. It was fascinating. I look at myself naked in the mirror all the time, searching for any signs of development, but this was like seeing myself for the first time. I ran my hands down my chest, up my thighs, and between my legs — more of that later, I told myself — and back around my ass. The only thing I was sad about was that I couldn’t see my bare butt in the moonlight.

In a minute I was thinking clearly. That’s it, I told myself. You’ve had your fun. Go back to bed. But that was just a game I was playing. Part of me was would say, “Don’t do this,” and the other part would say, “We’re just getting started.” I went down the steps and around to the front yard.

We live on a winding street full of little Cape Cod houses, and it felt deserted this time of night. There are no sidewalks, so I stayed on the edges of the lawns. The grass was cool and soft on my bare feet. I went from streetlight to streetlight, watching the way the light played on my skin, and the way my shadow shrank and grew, almost daring somebody to look out their bedroom window and see me. The air felt amazing, and so did my middle finger, which I keep between my pussy lips sometimes when I walk around naked.

I was halfway down my block when I saw some headlights floating up along the cross street. They stopped, then came around the corner, right at me. Where I was standing, there weren’t any bushes or trees to hide behind — just a big empty lawn. So I scampered back into the shadows between two houses and laid down, flattening myself on the grass. I was out of sight for like half a second, but one of the houses had some kind of stupid motion sensor, and suddenly my bare ass was caught in a spotlight. I clutched the grass in my fists and tried to flatten myself even more.

Wouldn’t you know it: the car was a blue and white police cruiser. The cop looked right at me and slowed down. I recognized him. It was Officer Boone, the guy who taught the DARE program when I was in fifth grade. He had just caught his star pupil bare-ass on somebody’s lawn, though I doubt he recognized me without my clothes on. This was the end. Five minutes outside in the nude and my life was over. Officer Boone’s head was just a round shadow, but it was definitely turned in my direction. Maybe he thought my blonde head was some kind of bush, and my ass was a couple of white stones, or I was a lost dog. Or he didn’t notice me at all, and he was just curious about the light going on. It didn’t matter. If he came over and checked, I was one dead little nudist. I wondered if I should get up and run, or if I should offer to lick his penis or something if he’d let me go. Actually, I kind of liked that idea: I had a little crush on Officer Boone when he taught our classes, and I was curious about what a black guy’s penis would look like.

The shadow moved inside the car. The door opened. A foot dropped down and landed in the street. The door opened wider. This was getting too real. I decided to run for it. Yeah, run, I told myself. That’s it. So why wasn’t I moving?

The spotlight on my ass snapped off, and I heard a voice. It was a woman, speaking very clearly, though I couldn’t make out the words. Officer Boone’s head snapped back toward his dashboard. His foot went back inside the car, the door slammed shut, and he drove off fast with his red and blue lights flashing.

I swear, I peed with relief, right there, face down on the grass. It was a long one, too, a warm stream that made a muffled spattering noise on the ground, and even before it was over, I began to shake. This crazy trembling started in my pussy and rolled out through me like ripples in a pond — but deep, heavy, violent ripples. Before I knew it I was shuddering all over, hard, like a cold wet dog, and I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t coming, exactly, but I’d never felt anything like it.

And it gave me an idea.

Now, Dad had asked me whether I was a nudist or a full-blown exhibitionist. What I did next pretty much settled that question, I think.

When the tremors finally stopped, I got up, with little bits of grass stuck to my wet thighs, and I slunk down to the corner where I’d first seen Officer Boone’s headlights. It’s a four-way stop, but the cross street is bigger than mine, and even in the middle of the night, there’s always a few cars. There was a row of forsythias on a lawn on the other side, bordering the road. They were the only things in the neighborhood in bloom. I went over, crouched between a couple of them, and waited.

It seemed like a long time, because I was so wired, but at last, I saw the flicker of headlights far down the road. My arms tingled as I watched them coming closer, getting bigger in the dark, and just when the car began to brake for the stop sign, I shot across the street. The headlights flashed over my body. For an instant I wondered how they made my ass look, and how much the driver saw. I reached the other side of the street and kept going, charging as fast as I could, not looking back, down the block from lawn to lawn. And it happened again. My pussy started to clench, like my Kegel muscles were grabbing at something that wasn’t there. I couldn’t run any more, and I went down, rolling end over end and landing on my ass. I was really coming now, and I didn’t even have to touch myself. I just squirmed on the grass like a crazy dog.

“Oh ... wow,” I said, laughing quietly. “Whoo!”

My breathing and my heart gradually came back to normal, but I was still shivering. Then I stopped. Then I shivered again. I hugged myself until I stopped completely. I tried to get up, but my legs were weak, and I fell right back on my butt.

So I lay there looking up at the stars, with my arms crossed over my chest, taking deep breaths, and feeling the sweet air on my wet pussy.

The car I flashed hadn’t followed me. I wondered why. Maybe the driver wasn’t sure what they saw, or maybe they didn’t believe it. Or maybe they were too tired to care. I suddenly realized I was tired, too. Exhausted, in fact. The adventure was over.

I got up, still wobbly, but at least I could walk again. I wiped the grass off my butt and marched home, humming a bit of Beethoven’s Fourth.

The back door was still unlocked, the kitchen was still dark, and mom was still snoring behind her bedroom door. It was like nothing had happened, even though a lot had.

Believe it or not, I put my pajamas on before I crawled into bed. It sounds weird, but after running around naked and coming so hard, I was feeling modest, even virtuous. I wasn’t sexed up anymore, like I’d been just — I looked at my clock — seventeen minutes ago.

I pulled my covers over my face. It felt good to be warm and wrapped up like a baby ... I fell asleep with a smirk, promising myself I’d learned my lesson with Officer Boone. I’d had a close call, and I wasn’t going to take any more stupid chances.

Yeah, right.