Spirits

By Michael Jesse

Chapter 36

The next day after work, they walked over to his apartment together. As he put a frozen dinner in the oven, she went to the bathroom and returned nude, carrying a floppy disk which she placed on the table next to his laptop.

"And what might that be?" he asked.

"My draft for the conclusion of the Molly & Jaye story," she said as she opened the refrigerator and got out an unopened bottle of wine. Jack watched with anticipation as Millie peeled away the seal and began twisting in the corkscrew. As she did so, Jack went through the motions of inserting the disk into his laptop and clicking open the file, but he kept his eyes on her because he did not want to miss what was about to happen.

To extract the cork, Millie did what she always did. She held the bottle between her thighs and pulled hard on the corkscrew handle until the cork popped out. Lots of people probably did it that way. But Millie was naked, and because she preferred white wine, the bottle was quite cold. Jack loved the expression that spread across her face when the bottle came in contact with her bare thighs. Her eyebrows went up and her mouth formed a circle. It always looked like she was surprised, but Jack knew it was actually an expression of delight. He loved that expression, but that was only the first part. The next part was even better because when the cork finally came out, her breasts jiggled crazily for just a second. Jack knew from experience that one dared not look away at the wrong time or the moment would be missed.

He was still watching her as she took two wine glasses out of the cabinet and filled them both halfway. As she handed him his glass, she said, "Focus on your task, Johnny."

Jack knew her well enough by now to be aware that she appreciated . . . being appreciated, and so he gave himself another long moment before reluctantly pulling his eyes away and focusing on the draft. "This is really good," he said, laughing.

"I need your help with the dialog. You have a talent for witty repartee."

"Witty repartee is a craft, not a talent," Jack said with mock indignation as he got to work. He quickly became absorbed, and when the oven dinged, Millie took the meal out and dished up their plates. She sat next to him as he finished up his recommended edits. He slid the laptop to her and she read through it, making her own edits. When she was ready, she logged in as Molly and posted the story.

Millie giggled, leaning back in her chair, a hint of blush on her cheeks and chest. "That was fun!"

"Make sure you check back later for the comments," Jack said. "You'll get plenty."

They moved over to the sheet-shrouded, extra-wide easy chair in front of the big window overlooking the city, taking their usual spaces. Jack had his left arm over the back of the chair, and his right hand rested on Millie's knee.

"I have another idea for a story," she said, "but not about Molly herself."

"Oh?"

"Earlier on, you posted – I mean Molly posted a couple of fictional stories — that is, fictional to her, who is also fictional to us — but of course she doesn't know that."

"Because she's an atheist who doesn't believe in an Author?"

"Oooh, now you're starting to sound like me."

"Thank you. So what do you want to do with that kind of story?"

"Well, those stories were about girls who can go naked in public because it's not illegal where they live. But just saying it's legal isn't enough. There are already places in the world where public nudity is technically legal, and maybe in those places, there are occasionally big nude events, or maybe a model will pose for nude photos in the town square. But that doesn't mean a woman would be comfortable going about her daily life that way."

"Oh, right, because men are still dicks."

"Most men aren't, but it only takes a small percentage to ruin things. So, for that kind of story to work, we need to establish that this is not just another city in our own world, but in an entirely different parallel universe that looks exactly like our own, except in THIS universe, there is no such thing as rape or sexual harassment. It just never happens; never even crosses anyone's mind. AND their society also doesn't teach little girls they need to look a certain way to be attractive."

"That would definitely be an improvement on this universe," Jack said, "though it's a low bar." As they spoke, he was caressing her legs, but he was in a holding pattern, waiting for a signal from her.

"It is a universe where no boy ever grows up to abuse women, and no girl ever grows up hating her body."

"Okay, that's an intriguing setup for a story," Jack said, "even if there's no nudity in it. Is there nudity in it?"

"Of course there is, but we have to establish the universe first. And because we want our girl to be the only one naked, we also need to establish that even though all women feel good about their bodies and have no fear of assault, the vast majority of them don't go naked anyplace except beaches and swimming pools."

"I'll bet you would," he said.

"In a heartbeat, but unfortunately for me, I'm not in this story. For dramatic purposes, our heroine needs to be a very shy girl who would never-ever do such a thing. But then -- through a series of unlikely coincidental events worthy of a screwball comedy -- our poor girl somehow ends up naked in public and is dreadfully embarrassed."

"But not ashamed or fearful."

"Certainly not. So she just keeps her chin up and goes on with whatever she is doing even though she is nude -- intending to get dressed again as soon as possible -- but THEN guess what happens."

"I have no idea."

"She meets her true love. Or at least someone who might be. And there they stand, chatting together, becoming acquainted while she is nude."

"Sounds like you've got this all worked out."

"The genre could be called Naked Girl Romance."

Jack kissed her neck and whispered into her ear, "Tell me a Naked Girl Romance story."

Millie giggled. "I don't have a whole story. Just some scenes." As she said these words, she opened her legs just a little, but enough for him to notice.

"Tell me," he whispered again as he accepted her invitation and began gliding his fingers along her inner thighs. She widened her legs again.

"Mmmm, well," she said, looking him in the eyes, "it's about this very shy girl who has just gotten a job in a new city, and before she even starts, she is invited to the company's big annual party, which is quite formal. So she puts her hair up and gets dressed in an elegant gown, high heels, long white gloves, and a double strand of pearls with matching dangly earrings."

Jack chuckled. "I like your attention to detail," he said, "but I think something bad is going to happen to that poor gown."

"Yes, but I haven't figured out how to contrive that yet."

"We'll come up with the details later," he said, his hand now fully between her legs, his fingers beginning their work. "Just take it from there."

"So after that somehow happens, she is completely naked except for the aforementioned four-inch heels, long white gloves and pearls."

"That does sound like a nice outfit".

"It's in a lot of my fantasies. And somehow she's outside, on the sidewalk in the bustle of downtown, and everyone is looking at her, but of course, she is in no danger. She is right in front of her hotel, so she hurries inside, walking purposefully towards the elevator, just trying to get to her room. BUT the lobby is where the fancy company party is happening, and everyone is watching her . . . captivated by her. She tries to pretend she is very busy as she works her way through the crowd, but everyone wants to say hello to her, and they are all so nice, and she doesn't want to be rude. But we know, and perhaps she does too, that the real reason she pauses is because she is so enchanted by what she sees in their eyes as they look at her -- and she doesn't want that to stop."

Up until this point, Millie had been maintaining eye contact with Jack, occasionally kissing him in between phrases, but now, as his thumb became quite busy at her clitoris, she closed her eyes. He knew she was near as she let her head rest against his arm and continued with her story.

"So . . . so she pauses to exchange pleasantries as a waiter with a tray comes by -- and now she is holding a bubbly champagne flute as more people gather nearby -- not crowding her but wanting to be part of the conversation with the beautiful naked girl. The lobby walls are mirrored so she can't help but see reflections of herself . . . and she feels so happy that everyone seems to . . . adore her. And now, because she has introduced herself, everyone around her realizes she is their new coworker, due to start work on Monday, and they are . . . so delighted that she is apparently a nudist who will be coming to work naked. She wants to correct them, to explain that it was just an accident, but she does not want to break the spell, and in a rush of joy she realizes that this is what she wants to do. She will go naked all the time . . . all the time . . . all the time."

Although Jack did like having his own orgasms when possible, there was nothing he enjoyed more than watching Millie have hers -- especially out here on the chair in front of the sunny window. She was no longer telling her story, but just sighing "oh . . . oh . . . oh . . ." and each "oh" was at a slightly higher pitch, though not very loud. After five or six of these, each succeeding "oh" had an additional tone of surprise and then even a hint of trepidation, as if someone who thought they were watching the tsunami from a safe distance was beginning to wonder if they had miscalculated. When she reached the final "oh," she went stiff for several seconds and then exhaled in a long, enchanting, moaning sigh. Her damp, naked body rolled into him and became so completely relaxed, he wondered if she might have fallen asleep. But that would be fine. He would hold her as long as she wanted -- content just to look at her white skin and red hair glowing in the sunlight. If he could have only one moment in all of Eternity, he knew he would choose this one.

Each evening that week, Millie came over for a little while after work. Sometimes they made love; sometimes they didn't. She would check Molly's site after dinner and read to him any new reader comments. She usually knew what she wanted to say in reply, and he was content with the role of sounding board and copyeditor. When she had a final draft ready to post, she would read it aloud the way she envisioned Molly saying it. At about nine o'clock each evening, he walked her to her car and came back to his apartment . . . and he did not have anything further to drink beyond the wine they'd had at dinner. He was surprised how easy it was -- as if he had reached into his own brain and simply flipped a switch. He didn't say anything to Millie because there was nothing to say anymore since he had it under control now. Every night when he went to bed, he said to the Spirit of the Sentient Earth, "Thanks for being with me today," and in the mornings he said to it, "Please be with me today."

By Friday, they were making plans for the weekend over dinner at a restaurant. She was teasing and joking with him as always, but something seemed off. He prodded gently a few times, but she shrugged it off. When he walked her to her car that night, he asked again if something was bothering her.

"I have something I need to tell you," she said, "but I don't want you to react or say anything back to me. We'll talk about it this once and then not any more, okay?"

"I hate agreeing to that before I know what it is. Can you just tell me?"

"Technically, at this moment, I'm pregnant. But I won't be for long."

"You mean you're going to--"

"I'm not going to 'do' anything, Johnny. It's just going to go away on its own like it always does. I am just waiting for it to happen. And I'm telling you because it's right for you to know, and because I don't want to keep secrets from you. If I don't mention this to you again, then you will know that it happened. So, please don't bring it up ever again."

She got in her car and he watched her drive away. He walked back through the quiet downtown, imagining the mysterious entity so tentatively inside Millie at this moment, its flickering spark of potential future consciousness perhaps carrying with it bits of other past lives from the Spirit, maybe even including her long-ago lost Atticus, making another try at breaking through to this world. Jack wasn't sure he wanted it to succeed, but did not dare wish otherwise.

Bells jangled as he pushed through the glass door of a shop under a one-word sign written in blue neon script.