Naked Tao (2 page)

“Don’t get lost on the road to hope.” – Ch’ing

Friends provide insight and comfort in a crisis. I definitely needed some insight and comforting and my friend, Eric, lived nearby. I should have called first, but I didn’t. Eric and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember, but calling first was something we always did. Of course, as it turned out, not calling was another mistake. 

Eric lives to the east of Louisville, in Prospect. My favorite route is River Road, a scenic byway that runs along the Ohio River from downtown. It offers spectacular views of the river. On most days you can catch a glimpse of Louisville’s small sailing community out on the water. The sailboats mix with the Belle of Louisville, an authentic steam power paddle wheel, and barges running coal up and down the river. The Belle gives the river a whimsical, out-of-time, Mark Twain mystique. 

It was a short drive from downtown Louisville. Thanks to my soon-to-be ex-wife, the only transportation I had was an old pickup truck my dad left me. It’s a real gem. The damn thing is fighting a losing a battle with rust, and rips off an occasional noisy backfire. 

Initially, I kept it for sentimental reasons, but as things turned out, it was all I had.  It should have kicked the bucket long ago, but no such luck. It’s a survivor. You could also say that about me. I learned long ago to just let go. Otherwise, grief would have choked the life out of me. My soon to be ex-wife had thought I was a cold fish. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I wonder if she wasn’t right. 

Prospect is an affluent community overlooking the Ohio River.  Most of the residents work as professionals in Louisville. Each evening they endure rush hour traffic to escape to the quiet comfort of home and family. Most take pride in their homes and are known to gossip about a poorly tended lawn. They drive luxury cars like Mercedes, Lexus, and BMW. Dad’s old Ford doesn’t fit in with all of the fancy imports, but no one ever seems to pay it much mind. They probably assume it belongs to a handyman hired by one of the neighbors. 

I don’t remember much about the drive. I was still in shock over the disastrous turn of events and must have been a couple of blocks past Eric’s house before I realized his driveway was full and there weren’t any parking spaces on the street. Homeowners in this neighborhood have big garages to park their vehicles and these quiet suburban streets are usually empty. I scoured the area and was lucky to find a space two and a half blocks away I could squeeze into. 

As I approached his house on foot, I noticed every light at Eric’s place was burning. The shades were closed and music was blasting from out back.  Figuring I’d find him near the music, I followed it to the rear of the house and slipped through the eight foot privacy gate. 

Eric’s back yard is designed for entertaining.  Every inch is utilized as living space with curved paths, fountains, koi ponds, and various sitting areas situated around the yard. Each area has a different theme. There are areas designed as a Zen garden, tropical beach, backwoods campfire, and Parisian café, among others. 

The place was packed. Eric was throwing a huge party and he hadn’t invited me. My feelings were hurt and I felt a sulk coming on when I noticed a naked girl sitting on a guy’s lap. I pulled my eyes away and quickly surveyed the rest of the crowd. A few people were clothed, but most were nude.  I could tell you it was sexy, but it wasn’t. The truth is, it both turned me on and made me really uncomfortable. What the hell was going on? 

The crowd was divided into small groups. Except for the bare bottoms, it looked like an ordinary cocktail party.  Obviously, unselfconscious about their nakedness, most of the guests gathered in small groups chatting about what sounded like ordinary topics.

There were a few exceptions. For example, two chicks were kissing in the hot tub. Not much ordinary in that. I had never seen anything like it before. At first it was hard to pull my eyes away from them, but public displays of affection make me extremely uncomfortable, let alone nude public displays. The discomfort won out and I would not allow myself to look at them again. 

Strangely, none of the other men paid the kissing girls much attention.  Instead, a boisterous group of guys were gathered around Eric’s new pool watching a petite blond entertain two guys on a lounge chair.  If her moans were any indication, she was enjoying herself immensely. The crowd cheered her on like it was the super bowl. 

Of all the naked people at the party, the one that caught my eye was an exquisitely shaped brunette with the all-seeing-eye-of-God tattooed on her lower back. I couldn’t see her front, but the backside was flawless in a Barbie doll sort of way. She was tall and athletic. Her flawless legs led the eye upward toward a tight little behind, while waves of soft dark brown hair fell gracefully onto her broad swimmer’s shoulders. 

As if the eye couldn’t possibly convey all that she is, her musical laughter sliced through the party chatter and found its way to a familiar place deep inside of me and a memory buried deep.  It was disconcerting. 

I reluctantly pulled my eyes from the woman and appraised her companion. He was a few inches taller than her and several shades darker. Whereas her skin tone was olive, he was chocolate.  His frame was packed with tightly compacted muscle that rippled in unison with their flirtatious back-and-forth banter. This guy was formidable and the nudist environment made it possible for him to display his greatest asset, dangling like a thick rope, between his knees. The guy was hung like a freaking horse. 

He touched her lightly on the arm and flashed an eye- crinkling smile just before leaning in to whisper something in her ear. She pushed him playfully away, but softened the rejection with a light-hearted laugh that, again, sounded strangely familiar.

He answered the laugh with flared nostrils and a gentle push of his own. She rolled with it and counter-grabbed his upper arm in a surprising move that unbalanced him. He managed to drag her with him as the two of them tumbled into the water, making a huge splash that reached the cheering group of men surrounding the lounge chair. 

When they surfaced, I saw the chick’s face for the first time.  I couldn’t believe it was her, and found myself torn between the urge to run away and a strange need to watch her every move. It was painful watching them move close together. She laced her fingers behind his neck and leaned in for a whisper, but he kissed her instead. The kiss was innocent enough at first, but quickly became passionate. 

Her right hand disappeared into the water where it fumbled for a moment before she gasped. Head tilted back, her eyes were unseeing squints, but then suddenly opened wide. She had seen me for the first time. She let out a little squeak before pushing him away and scrambling from the pool. Once out of the water, she looked wildly about for her clothes, before giving up and turning for the house. 

Her flight was interrupted when a throaty voice called to her. “Are you okay, Ginny?” 

One of the few clothed women rose from a white wicker chair and walked toward her. It was Eric’s wife, Kinsey.  She is tall like Eric and thin as a model. In fact, she did a short stint of modeling in New York before returning home to marry Eric. 

If it wasn’t for the boob job, her most prominent feature would be her large boney joints. She picked-up the boobs in New York and likes to refer to them as evidence of her misspent youth. Her strawberry blond hair frames a long face filled with freckles. 

She is one of those people who could easily slide into unattractiveness, but has always made the most of what she has. Kinsey owns her sensuality, and because of it, she turns heads when she walks into a room. 

It was the first time I had seen Ginny since high school. It had been ten long years and I couldn’t stop looking at her. The awkward Plain-Jane had grown into a beautiful woman. Ginny has an aristocratic high bridged nose set between wide cheekbones. Her slightly flushed face narrows into a high forehead. I even spotted a few freckles on her broad shoulders.  Believe it or not, the eyes are her best feature. They are the color of a tropical sea and filled with intelligence. I saw something else in them that I remembered well, grit. This woman had always been tough. 

Ginny stopped in her tracks at the sound of Kinsey’s voice, but did not change directions. Her body was still pointed toward the house when she glanced backward over a shoulder. Ginny’s eyes darted in my direction before quickly returning to Kinsey. Clearly, she was torn. Exhaling, she finally gave up her escape and turned in Kinsey’s direction. Her decision had been made. I’ve never quite understood how chicks can shift gears in an instant, once their friends are involved. 

Ginny sent a hard defiant look in my direction before answering Kinsey’s question with a question of her own.  “This is such a hot party Kinsey! Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

Kinsey gave Ginny a big hug, “Oh, thank you! That means a lot to me considering you party like this in the world’s sexiest places. It’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other. You look great, Ginny!” 

Ginny stepped back and inspected Kinsey, “Me? Look at you. You are so hot! That dress looks amazing on you. I love it that you’re wearing one of my designs.” 

Kinsey spun around and said, “Well of course. It gets me all kinds of attention, and honey, I need a lot of attention.” 

Ginny cut her eyes to the crowd at the lounge chair and said, “As much as her?” 

Laughing Kinsey said, “Sometimes sexy is what you wear, not what you don’t wear.” 

Ginny giggled as she said, “Tell me about it. I make a good living because of it.” 

“You’ve got to admit,” said Kinsey, “it sure beats those awful knee length skirts the nuns made us wear at Sacred Heart.” 

“I loved those skirts,” I murmured. 

Sacred Heart is the sister school to Trinity High School. They are about a half mile apart. Sacred Heart is a Catholic girl’s school and Trinity tried its best to educate the boys. Eric and I played football for Trinity. Sacred Heart provided us with cheerleaders and girlfriends. Eric met Kinsey at one of the Saturday night mixers and they dated all through high school. 

Kinsey nodded in my direction, “Have you ever noticed the look these guys get when you mention a school girl skirt? They’re so predictable.” 

Ginny giggled, “It’s one of my best selling lines. Go figure.” 

I heard Eric’s voice behind me, “Well, well, well…if it isn’t Grant with a beautiful woman.” 

That brought me back to the reason I had come here. I needed to talk to Eric about everything that had happened at the office. He would help me put everything in perspective. 

I glanced over my shoulder and the first thing I noticed was a cheesy gold chain around his neck. It really stood out because it was the only thing he was wearing. The last time I saw Eric in the buff was in our high school locker room. It had made me uncomfortable then, but I had to adjust if I wanted to play football.  This was worse. We were outside and there were chicks everywhere. 

Eric is tall, lean, and well-proportioned.  I’m a couple of inches shorter than Eric and more muscular. My face, hands, and body are square. His blond hair and blue eyed Viking good looks drive chicks crazy. Not that they don’t love my brown almond eyes and dark hair.  At the moment, Eric’s eyes were glued to Ginny. 

Kinsey spoke up and said, “Babe, Ginny’s here!” 

Eric’s phone rang. He ignored it. Instead he looked at Ginny and poured the charm on. “Wow!” said Eric. “How did I miss you coming in…it’s a pleasure to have you back in town.” 

Eric was on a roll. Instead of waiting for an answer, he pointed toward me and said, “I take it you’re not with this scoundrel. Good thing too! Grant, you remember Ginny from high school. She moved away right after and has made her mark selling the hottest slut wear in the world. She and Kinsey have stayed in touch all this time, but this is the first time since graduation she has returned to Louisville.” 

I was surprised she had changed so much. In high school she was Kinsey’s nerdy best friend, Virginia, and even Kinsey didn’t know the painful secret we shared. She wore thick glasses and hardly ever spoke. Her hair was always pulled tightly back into a severe bun. Her clothes hung loosely on her without showing any sign she was making the transition from child to woman. She was an awkward Plain-Jane and I felt a strange mix of mortification and longing whenever I was in her presence, so I had avoided her at all costs and never spoke to her. 

Ginny stiffened and she narrowed her eyes. High School had been painful for her. I was trying to think of something to say to make her feel better when someone put hands over my eyes and whispered, “Guess who?” 

Geez, I knew immediately who it was…Cindy, the cheerleader I dated off and on in high school. What was she doing here? It was like a damn naked class reunion! 

Instead of answering her question, I reached up and peeled her hands off. She slipped around and positioned herself between me and Ginny. 

“I’m surprised to see you here, Grant,” she said. “You were such a prude in high school. Glad to see you got over that.” 

Ginny was a head taller than Cindy, who couldn’t have been more than 5’2”. I looked over the top of Cindy’s blond head and into Ginny’s hard gaze. This was feeling more and more surreal…and awkward.