Clara and the Star

Dearest reader

Thanks for clicking on this. It's my first effort at E/V. You don't need to have read any of my tales before, though the protagonist Clara appeared briefly in Eve & Lucy, which also involved lots of public nudity. (There are also spoilers here for several other of my stories, if you care about that kind of thing.)

Regular readers of mine, please be aware that there won't be any lesbian sex here!

Happy reading!

T x

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"Okay," said the assistant over the loudspeaker, "Spencer wants Group 3 to form a line up along the left hand side, in pairs, facing towards the Star. Leave about a metre between each pair."

Dutifully, I moved upwards with the rest of my group, two dozen of us, pairing up with an older lady who looked to be in her forties. She smiled kindly at me. We lined up on a line of masking tape with number 4 on it.

"Okay, stay where you are please." Then various assistants started moving down the line, adjusting our positions, then turning back to Spencer on his raised photography platform to check they had it how he wanted it.

This was only the rehearsal. We were still clothed. Later, we would be doing this nude. In front of a celebrity audience no less.

Gulping, I fiddled with my fingers. I tried to focus on the single installation on the otherwise empty gallery: The Star, a globe that pulsed and shone in a range of lights. It was dazzling. The photographer in me couldn't help but admire the choice of gallery for this shoot - the differing lights on bare bodies would make for a range of fascinating compositions, not to mention the possibility of silhouettes.

This was why I was here. To watch and learn from a celebrity photographer who had been working in the field for over thirty years. While I don't think mass nudes were exactly what I wanted to do personally, there would be few opportunities to observe such a shoot up close.

"Are you nervous?" the lady next to me whispered.

"Terrified!" I whispered back.

She chuckled. "Don't be. It'll be a lot of fun. I was there at the first one, twenty years ago."

"Really?" I asked, genuinely interested, "how does it compare?"

"Honestly? Much the same. I don't think Spencer's had an original idea in thirty years."

I nearly bit my tongue at her affectionate dismissal of this celebrated photographer.

"But it was such a blast," she went on, "that when I heard about this, I had to do it again. You know he emailed as many of the original participants as they could? That's how I got the invitation. How about you?"

"Oh, I emailed asking if I could be an assistant - I'm a photographer too, and I wanted to have that experience - but they said he didn't need any more, but that I could be a volunteer model so..."

She nodded at me kindly. "What kind of photography do you do?"

I was about to answer, but then shouted instructions stopped me.

"Okay, everyone, that looks good," came the instructions, "so make a mental mark of where you are, and remember that spot for later. Look at who you are with too, though remember that they may look very different tonight!"

That brought some nervous laughter from around the room.

"Right, thank you everyone. So remember, first position will be on the entrance verandah, then the gardens," I wondered briefly what they would have done had the weather been forecast to be bad. "Then we move inside to the stairs. In here will be the final shoot. We'll see you at 7pm tonight."

There was a burst of applause which I joined in with.

"Thank you for talking to me," I said to the lady before she disappeared.

"My pleasure... sorry, what's your name?"

"Clara," I said, "Clara Newton."

"Well, Clara, having been an assistant to Spencer myself back in the day, I can tell you that you aren't missing out on much, I promise."

My mouth dropped open.

"But, perhaps in terms of your career, perhaps I can offer some tips. Here's my card."

I gawped at the name on it. I'd seen her photos in The __________! "Oh my God! I know your work! That portrait you did of _______ was just wow!"

"Thank you," she said. "Send me some of yours."

"Okay, I will most definitely!" I was already mentally flicking through my portfolio, thinking what I would send her. The one of Amanda and Carrie, obviously, and perhaps some of my portraits of Samaritan volunteers. "Thank you!"

"See you tonight," she called over her shoulder as she swept off.

I quickly stuck her contact details into my phone, and slipped the card into the case, determined to preserve it like a holy relic.

Well, wow, this evening was already looking up.

Now all I needed to do was get naked in front of a few hundred people.

* * *

My stomach was in knots. Honestly, I don't think I'd ever been so nervous, not before exams, not before results day, not before the operation to remove a lump from my boob (at 14! Can you imagine?) Not even when I lost my virginity to dishy Dougal at Michelle's birthday party. And I had fucking good reason to be nervous then too, though I didn't know it at the time.

Others seemed relaxed, many chatting to each other as if they were old friends, which they might well have been. However, I didn't know anyone, and had nobody to talk to. I looked around to try to find the female photographer I'd spoken to earlier, but couldn't see her.

No, I was on my own, alone in a crowd, about to get naked in front of hundreds of strangers.

Seriously, I thought I might vomit. I was shaking.

"Okay, everyone, please remove your clothes and place them in your bags. Assistants will collect these. Then take your positions for set 1."

But regardless of my fears, good girl that I am, I followed the example of those around me who were calmly stripping off. My dress went over my head.

Some clearly shared my nervousness, looking around at others, instinctively covering themselves. Some were visibly vibrating, looking pale.

I stuffed my dress in my bag and unbuckled my sandals.

Others though were acting like it was nothing, as if they were in some sports' centre changing room. Pinging off my bra, I found myself rushing to get my clothes off, to keep pace with them, figuring with some strange logic that being the last to get naked would somehow be more embarrassing than being first.

Pulling down my knickers, and pushing them into my bag, I stood up straight, trying to will myself into a state of calm. I wished I did meditation or tai chi or something that would have taught me to control my emotions. Hell, actually, looking at the taut and tanned body of a young man next to me, who thankfully didn't notice, I wished I did yoga or pilates or something to make my stomach a bit flatter or my bum a bit smaller.

Still, glancing around, I was relieved to see that there were plenty of wobbly bums, flabby tits and large tummies on display. And that was just the men. The volunteers were nearly all white and, my male neighbour an exception, pasty. This was England, after all. But despite the lack of racial diversity, there was a large range of ages and body shapes on display. Women with c-section and mastectomy scars; men with beer bellies and bald spots; cocks of all sizes, though mostly small. It was no parade of models. No tattoos - that had been one of the criteria for volunteers, which made me wonder if that was one of the reasons why the volunteers skewed old. Looking around, I seemed to be definitely one of the youngest there, and, I was pleased to note, rather averagely sized up top, compared to what other women had.

I shivered a little in the breeze. It has been a warm day, in the mid-twenties, but it was early evening and, while it was still light out, the temperature had dropped a bit and the shadows were lengthening.

"Okay, everyone, first positions please!"

"Sounds like we're at the ballet," giggled an older woman next to me, which made me smile.

The marble of the verandah floor was mercifully warm on my bare feet, as was whatever material the column I had to lean against was made of. I was facing forward, full frontal, everything on display. My face, my breasts, my legs, my bush: it would all be captured by the camera, shared around the world, published in newspapers and magazines, online forever. True, I would just be one body of over two hundred but it was still... a thrill?

I wasn't prepared for that. I had thought that my dominant feeling would be shame, embarrassment, fear even. Oh, those emotions were all present and correct and very much making themselves known to me. This was everything all those PSHE lessons on avoiding sexting and not sharing images online had drummed into me that I should NOT do.

Yet, above all of that, rode this buzz of excitement. I felt the skin around my nipples tightening, puckering, the flesh there stiffening, as goosebumps rose across my arms. It wasn't just the breeze doing that.

Commands and instructions were shouted, positions subtly adjusted, people moved and the first shoot was soon over.

Applause erupted.

"Okay, well done everyone!" the assistant called, "second positions please!"

I wasn't particularly looking forward to this one. We were being asked to kneel on the lawn in front of the gallery, upper bodies prostrated, arses in the air, worshipping the western sun. I would be showing everything to anyone behind me. For that reason, I'd managed to get myself into the back row.

Yet, as I turned and followed the others down, I caught sight of faces in the windows. The invited guests were watching us. They would be artists and collectors, but also celebrities and politicians, people with connections. And I was about to show them everything.

Feeling flushed and hot, the cool grass under my feet was a blessing, but did nothing to shake my fear. I tried to rationalise it to myself. "You don't know them Clara, they don't know you, you're just an anonymous person, a body, a living sculpture."

My photographer friend from earlier smiled at me kindly as she walked past, and I smiled back, somewhat calmed. She was tall, taller than most of the women, and the sun pulled out the copper in her hair. I thought to myself that I hoped I looked that good in my forties.

"Positions everyone."

The freshly cut grass tickled my shins as I knelt, the smell of it wafting up. Then, following my neighbours, I bent from the waist. My breasts brushed the grass - it was a maddening sensation, but I suppose it at least distracted me from the fact that I was now mooning some of London's brightest and best. I kept my knees together, but I still had no doubt that anyone looking from behind - as all the guests were - would be getting a great view of my labia and bum cheeks.

At least my face, which I had no doubt was bright red, was hidden from view at this point.

And, I told myself again, at least you don't know any of them.

It seemed like we had to hold that position for an age, the sun warm on my back, the breeze cool on my bum, the lactic acid building in my arms. Yet it felt... exciting. By the end, when they finally told us to stand, I was trembling. I almost positive it was just from fatigue. Almost.

"Oh me knees," I overheard one gentleman volunteer near me complain as we straightened.

"Tell me about it!" somebody else chorused.

We started to move inside to take our positions on the interior stairs. I wasn't sure where the camera would be here, but I was near the wall and blocked by several others in my group. I wasn't too worried about this one.

Until we got through the entrance door.

Applause and cheers broke out from the clothed crowd there. We basically had to walk through a gauntlet of the great and good.

I was mortified. And strangely excited. It was cooler in here, and I wasn't sure whether my nipples hardening again was due to that, or the fact that this may have been something of a turn on. Because, it kind of was.

Until I started recognising people.

There was Luz Valencienne. Jessica Tyler! Fuck, Chloe Ngata! Basically a wish list of powerful, successful women that I'd give my right arm to photograph.

Shame and awe and, yes, jealousy and excitement warred within me as I squared my shoulders and sucked in my stomach in a vain attempt to match up to these stunning women. I was hiding nothing and there was nowhere to hide; here I was exposed and vulnerable.

"Are you okay?" a guy next to me asked.

"Yes," I managed.

"Okay, because you looked like you were hyperventilating."

Luckily, we moved past them quickly, and took our positions on the stairs. It was even cooler inside, yet the heat of my shame was keeping me warm.

I managed to get my breathing under control.

Thank God we weren't doing this in Bristol or Belfast, I reflected. Here in London there was no chance anyone would recognise me. I didn't know anybody famous.

"Could guests please clear the stairwell," came a polite plea from the loudhailer. "Unless you'd like to disrobe and join in?"

There was a general chuckle amongst the crowd and few wags shouted out, "come on, get your kit off", which brought more laughter.

I was just started to relax, sharing smiles - and eye contact, always eye contact! - with those around me, when I heard a familiar voice call, "no thanks! Been there, done that!"

My skin prickled all over, as I turned my head, looking for the speaker, hoping, desperately, that I was wrong.

Fuck. I wasn't.

She was just disappearing behind a door, hand in hand with a taller woman. I could only see her from behind, and only for a moment, but I was certain it was her.

Amanda Richards. Which meant that the taller woman she was holding hands with was Carrie Huntley.

Fuck.

They were actresses with a real buzz around them, having been in a hit Netflix adaptation and had just been slated to be in the next Bridgerton.

But before that, they'd been Bristol University students. I didn't know them well at all, but through our mutual friend Keke, I'd taken publicity photos for two of the University productions they'd been in. In fact, they were responsible for my greatest photographic success to date, when one of my photos was used by the Guardian to illustrate a piece about some viral videos they had created.

Okay, so my photo was published based on their merits, not mine, but still, it was my first photo in a major newspaper.

Plus they'd both been naked in it. So, I guess they could at least relate to this. Hell, Amanda had been naked on stage for five performances.

What was I worrying about? They wouldn't judge me.

Hell, they probably wouldn't even see me. In fact, I'd make sure of it. I'd be out of here as soon as possible.

Volunteers had been invited to stay on for the after party - on condition that we remained naked. Apparently, this was exactly as they had done twenty years ago. But I had my bus ticket booked back to Bristol for 9, so I couldn't hang around anyway.

Position 3 seemed to take the longest, as Spencer roamed around, taking photos from various angles. At one stage he was right in front of me, crouching down. I couldn't see what was on his viewfinder, but it looked like he was shooting through my legs. The thought of my legs and pussy framing a bunch of other naked people, and the resulting photo potentially being blown up and exhibited here, for the general public, made me flush both hot and cold.

I didn't know whether to be mortified or excited, thrilled or devasted. Perhaps it was all of them.

Finally, we were told to move through to position 4, the gallery. The Star.

Trying very hard to stay in the middle of the crowd, I moved amidst a group of taller men, some of whom seemed very pleased by my proximity. I probably sent out all kinds of wrong signals, but honestly I was trying not to be seen, as curious celebrities peered around corners at the flood of nude bodies moving through to Gallery 4. I really hoped Amanda and Carrie wouldn't recognise me!

I took my place at spot four and was shortly joined by my partner from earlier.

"Hi Clara, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Kind of! It's pretty intense!"

"Are you staying for the party afterwards? It'll be fun."

"I wasn't planning too... especially as I know two of the guests! I didn't know they would be here!"

She chuckled. "Sweetie, I've taken portraits of half that crowd over the years."

"Oh my goodness!" My body flushed hot at the thought in empathetic embarrassment. "So it's even worse for you."

She laughed again. "They won't recognise me. The men will all just stare at my tits and anyway, they are used to me having a camera obscuring my face."

"True!"

"Quiet please!" came the call.

We stilled. Light washed over us, bathing our skin. Row, upon row of nude bodies, facing the Star. It was mesmeric and exciting, almost transcendent.

As the photos were taken and The Star cycled through its spectrum, I thought about what my partner had said. Nudity was, in a way, its own disguise, and though I had met Carrie and Amanda at parties, even there I most often had a viewfinder to my eye. They might not recognise my face without a camera in front of it.

Maybe I could get away without them seeing me.

"Thank you everyone, that's a wrap!"

The room burst into applause. To my consternation many people were hugging each other. I'm not sure I wanted some stranger's naked body pressed up against mine.

"Thanks Clara." My fellow photographer just offered me a hand, which left me feeling relieved.

"Thank you, pleasure to meet you."

I wanted to say more, but the crowd was moving and more instructions were being called over the loudhailer.

"Your bags will be in the cloakroom. Remember that you are most welcome to stay for the after party, but you will need to stay in costume."

But as the momentum of the crowd took me through the door, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm.

"Clara! Look, Carrie, like, I knew I'd seen her!"

And I looked up into Amanda's smiling face. I felt like I'd just been plunged into an ice bath that was simultaneously boiling. I didn't know whether to run, or scream, or cry.

But before I had time to do any of these things, she was pulling me to her, an arm going around my bare waist. "Look who I found!"

My heart almost stopped as I came face to face with not just Carrie, but their co-star Suzy Wilson, who had also been to Uni with them, but also Bristol singer-songwriter Ms Nadine and - oh fuck - Chloe Ngata. There were a bunch of other women that I didn't know, and Amanda was explaining how she and Carrie knew me, making it sound as if it was the quality of my photo, not her bravery and ingenuity, that had been responsible for getting her the profile in The Guardian that helped kick start their acting careers.

But I was very aware of the fact that they were all clothed and I was very, very naked. Breasts, bush, bum, all out on display in front of two of my absolute heroines and three of my friends. I thought I might faint or vomit or both.

A glass of champagne was thrust in my hand and I swigged half of it, managing not to choke on the bubbles while Amanda did introductions.

"You, like, obviously recognise Chloe, right? Suzy's going to be acting with her soon, right Suze? Well this is her wife, Luna," a very similar looking woman waved at me as I stared wide-eyed.

"Oh my God, that's amazing Suzy!" I gushed. "You're going to be a star!"

Suzy smiled at me happily as Amanda continued the introductions.

"Do you know Kate? She teaches at Bristol Uni; you might have seen her around?"

Oh fuck, I thought as I shook my head, please not in the Earth Sciences department! I'll never be able to show my face again.

"Good to meet you," said the tall, handsome blonde as she shook my sweaty hand. I didn't even remember extending it. This was some kind of nightmare.

"And this lovely lady is Mel, Nadine's partner and, like, manager."

"Hi," I gasped weekly.

"Have I seen you at a show?" she asked. Oh shit this just got worse.

"Yes, um, you arranged for me to be in the photo pit for the last Academy show."

"Wait," said one of my favourite singers ever, while pointing in the general direction of my stiff nipples, "did you take that shot of me catching that keffiyeh?"

When I managed a weak nod, she snapped her fingers at me. "That was a sick shot, trust."

"Thanks," I said, blushing to my roots. All of them.

"Nice one," said Mel, "well, we'll have to get you invites to some more shows."

"Wow, that, that would be..." I knocked back the rest of my champagne, "great," I said, waving my arms expansively, then immediately realising what this must be doing to my breasts.

"So, how did you get involved in this, Clara?" Suzy asked.

"Well..." so I gave them all, this Oscar winning actress, this brilliant musician, these other talented women, the same story I'd given earlier. It was so surreal.

"Wow, that's brave as," said Chloe. Inside I was screaming - I just got complimented by Chloe Ngata!

"Not really," I said, trying (and most likely failing) to seem relaxed and cool. I really didn't know what to do with my arms. Should I cross them over my chest? Hang them in front of me to cover my bush? "I mean, it's no more than Amanda did right? Or, you know, you did Suzy?"

"True," agreed Amanda.

"Yeah, but then we had our roles to hide behind," said Suzy, handing me another glass she'd just plucked from a passing tray, "it wasn't really Amanda naked on stage, it was Eve. Just like it was me and Carrie making love on screen, it was Ray and Sarah. Whereas, here Clara, this is you. It's so brave."

If that was meant to make me feel better it really didn't work. I don't think I'd ever felt so embarrassed.

"You look amazing by the way," she added with a wink.

There was a chorus of agreement, and it suddenly dawned on me that most, if not all of these women, were gay or bisexual. I take photos in queer clubs all the time, but suddenly I felt really exposed. Because I was, literally. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could feel their eyes on my skin. I felt suddenly very glad that Suzy was here, as I was fairly certain she was straight.

Shuffling closer to her, I knocked back more champagne.

"Well, thanks, it was great to meet you, but I really have to get going, I've got to catch a bus back to Bristol."

"No!" they chorussed.

"Don't be silly," said Suzy, "Kate and Priya can give you a lift home tomorrow, right Kate?"

"Errm..." Kate began.

"They're staying with me, as are Carrie and Amanda, but there's still space."

"Umm..." I began.

"Yeah, please Clara, it'll be cool to, like, hang out," said Amanda, but she wasn't the one hanging out here, "Suzy's dads have got loads of space."

"It's just round the corner too," added Suzy.

"Um... yeah, we're driving back tomorrow," Kate said, "we've got a lot of gear, but should be able to fit you in."

"Plus," said Suzy, slipping her arm around my shoulder, "this way you won't have to miss the performance."

There was the click of a shutter, and I realised a press photographer had just taken a shot of me standing naked between Suzy and Amanda, Suzy's arm around me. Suzy who would soon be starring with Chloe Ngata.

Like that wasn't going to make it in the papers tomorrow.

"Performance?" I said weakly. The alcohol was going to my head.

"Yeah," said Nadine, "my bestie Priya - Kate's partner," she gestured at the tall blonde, "got a gig to write a soundtrack to The Star installation. It's getting its debut tonight."

"That's why I'm here," said Kate bashfully. "Chemistry professors don't usually get invited to these things unless their partners are performing."

"Tell me about it!" said Luna. "Well, it's true!" she said to her wife, when Chloe raised her eyebrows at her.

"It's why we're here too," added Amanda, gesturing at herself and Carrie, "we know Kate and Priya a bit from Bristol."

"Have you eaten, Clara?" Carrie asked.

"Yeah, I had a sandwich before..."

"Oh, there's loads of lovely food through here," said Suzy, taking my hand and leading me off.

The rest of the evening was a whirl. Suzy introduced me to her dads, who were on the gallery board apparently. Go figure. They were super sweet, but it was still incredibly embarrassing, standing there naked, talking to these smartly dressed gents.

Amanda and Carrie stuck with us most of the time, as did Chloe and Luna. My fingers itched for a camera! In the end, I asked Carrie to lend me her phone and I snapped a few of the group and some portraits of the two couples.

I refused to let them see them. "Please, give me a couple of days, let me work my magic with filters, then I'll send them, I promise. This isn't representative of what I do."

"Chill, cuz, she'll be right," Chloe said. "Give your email to Luna here, she'll be in touch, eh?"

After I did, Chloe leaned in closer. "Look, Luna and I are gonna stick with you, yeah? There's a few fellas in this crowd I know can be grabby as, but they won't try anything with Luna here, eh?"

I looked around apprehensively, noticing how the girls had formed a ring around me, with Luna at my back. There were other naked guests still, true, but mostly male and, of the women, none as young as me.

"Thanks, appreciated."

I did meet other famous people, some of whom pretended that they were coming to speak to Chloe or one of the others, but were clearly coming to ogle. The girls would lead those who just stared at my tits off elsewhere, but others looked me in the eye and if their interest in me was feigned, it was very convincing. The new James Bond was dreamy, and Chloe's successor as Dr Who was simply stunning in the flesh. One MP who came over quickly moved off when I started haranguing him about not standing up for refugee rights, which had Chloe and Luna high fiving me.

The whole time I was fighting a battle with my limbs. I still didn't know what to do with my hands, and working out how to stand was worse. Legs apart or close together? One in front of the other? I figured showing embarrassment would be like showing weakness and attract the predators, even though I had an honour guard. And my arms: should I place my hands on my waist, power pose style? Cross them over my stomach? Over my chest? Clasp them in front of my lap? In the end, I suspect I drank way more than I should have, because it was just easier to have something to do with my hands. I

Serving staff moved through the crowd that ebbed and flowed, sometimes forcing our ring to contract.

"Sorry," I gasped to Suzy, as my stiff nipple pushed into her bare biceps.

"Not a problem at all," she reassured me. Her smile was very forgiving.

Eventually, I stopped apologising: there really was little point. Though I definitely had two points for most of the evening.

"By the way, I was sorry to hear about you and Chen," Suzy said at one point.

"Yeah, like, me too," added Amanda, "I thought you were good together."

"We were," I said, "until we weren't."

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" asked Suzy.

"No."

"Yeah, me neither. We can be singletons together," she said.

Photographers weaved through the crowd, snapping away, though I lost count of the number of times I was the subject after the tenth time. Some looked like they were just taking candid shots, but a few asked me to smile or even pose. Good girl that I was, I obliged.

Images of my naked body would be everywhere in the morning it seems.

"It's because you look amazing, glowing," said Suzy.

But her praise did nothing to dispel the dread of the comments I would get from grandparents and old school 'friends'.

I was definitely tipsy by the time the performance started. Suzy led me through, and found us a space by Mel, Nadine and Kate.

However, I wasn't too drunk to appreciate it. It was incredible. Priya, Kate's partner, played layered loops of sound on cello and keyboard, while another person - Mel told me their name was Leila - punctuated it with trumpet and guitar. The sounds were ethereal and yet also immense, creating a sense of grandeur that filled and exceeded the space. Then, a dancer appeared.

"That's Cristina, Leila's partner," Mel whispered to Suzy and me.

She wasn't doing any kind of dance style I recognised, but whatever it was, it worked. The percussive clicks of her heels were precisely timed to fit the music, increasing in frequency, even as she threw lurid shapes in the glow of the star.

Then, as the music cut out, all three of them started singing, each in a different language, harmising, rising to a crescendo as the star pulsed brighter and brighter and brighter, blinding us. I turned my head away instinctively, pressing my face into Suzy, my arms going around her.

The silk of her dress on my bare skin was shockingly sexy.

As the three women wove the threads of their song into a final note, the star went dark and they stopped. It was eerie, the darkness and silence that followed, like fate made manifest. I was intensely aware of Suzy's breath on my skin, the weight on my waist from her arms, the heat of her.

It was so erotic. But was it her, the alcohol, the situation, or my exposure making me feel that way?

Dim light bled back into the gallery and the applause erupted. I turned to clap, and Suzy stepped up behind me, keeping her arms around my waist as she clapped.

The three performers took their bow.

"Suzy, we'll see you back at the house, okay? I'm going to go and help Priya pack up," Kate said.

"Okay, cool. We'll meet you there. You've got the code and the key, right?" Suzy said.

Mel and Nadine said their goodbyes too. They were going back to Nadine's parents' house and Cristina and Leila were staying with them.

"You ready to go?" Suzy purred in my ear. My hands had automatically covered hers where they were joined around my waist.

"Sure. Just need to get my bag and get dressed."

"You don't have to, you know? I only live two streets away."

"I don't have to what?" I asked, twisting to face her.

"Get dressed!"

My mouth fell open at this, even as a hot thrill flashed through me at what she was suggesting. To walk naked at night on the streets of Chelsea. The idea was weirdly exciting.

I gulped. "Okay."

Her smile was so wide it must have hurt. "Cool! You're awesome! Amanda? Carrie? You ready to go?"

We made our way to the cloakroom. There were still plenty of volunteers walking around nude, but soon I'd be bare on the streets, and it'd be just me. My heart was racing at the thought. My mouth was dry, but I thought I might be wet elsewhere.

"Wait cuz, are you not gonna get dressed?" Chloe asked me, as we said goodbye.

"No!" I stunned myself with how brave I sounded. I really wasn't. It was cold outside by the entrance, but I wasn't just trembling from the chill.

"My dads live really close, just two streets away," said Suzy.

"Are you sure about this, Clara?" Carrie said.

I wanted to yell no, but before I did Suzy jumped in, "I think this is so cool Clara! What a story this'll be! Chen will feel so stupid when he hears about this."

"Yeah nah, Luna go with them, eh? I'll wait here for you," Chloe said to her wife, before giving her a quick kiss. "It was choice to meet you, Clara. Luna will make sure nobody bothers you, eh?"

"Um, thanks, great to meet you too!" I really hoped I'd get to photograph her properly one day. "I'm a huge fan, but didn't want to gush."

"Save that for later, hey?" said Suzy.

"Suzy!" Amanda laughed, whacking her. "You should be so lucky!"

"Oh, I know," Suzy giggled back.

I didn't quite follow.

"So, which way then?" asked Luna, as I slipped on my sandals. Carrie slung my bag on her back.

"Over here," Suzy led off, her hand in mine.

The further we moved from the venue, the more terrified and excited I was. It was Chelsea, so the streets were well lit, and thankfully traffic was light.

Yet it was still so intense. My blood felt like it was going to burst from me, and my skin was on fire, despite the chill of the night air.

"Keep moving," Luna growled at a pair of guys who slowed down as we passed, phones in hand. Gulp more photos. Or film!

"You sure you don't want your dress, Clara?" asked Carrie more than once, even offering it to me once, after two cars had beeped at me.

"We're nearly there!" said Suzy.

But despite the embarrassment, the humiliation of tomorrow on the horizon, I was on a cloud. The sensation of the air on my skin, the heat of Suzy's hand, the thrill of this transgression, layered on the alcohol of earlier, had me buzzing. I was in so deep at this point, why not go a little further?

I was almost disappointed when we arrived at Suzy's building. I gulped taking in the size of it; I hadn't realised she was so rich. Looking down, I found her smiling at me coyly.

"Okay? I'll head back then. Nice to meet you all," said Luna, shaking hands.

"Thanks Luna," we all chorused.

"Can I just... just stay here a moment longer?" I asked, as we watched her walk off.

"Of course. Here's the keys, Carrie, head on in," said Suzy, passing them over, "you remember the code?"

"Yeah. Listen, Clara," Carrie said, turning to me, "don't do anything you don't want to do."

"But," added Amanda, "sometimes you have to, like, give things a try, right babe? Where would we be if I hadn't, you know?" She smiled at Carrie, her look full of love.

As they headed up the steps to the front door, Suzy and I stayed for a moment on the street. I doubted I would ever be naked in public again - though you never know - so I wanted to enjoy it for a few moments longer, especially that specific sense of night-time air in a city, the weird warmth of the pavement radiating up, the odd breezes, the sounds of traffic. The excitement of it and the vulnerability.

"So," began Suzy, "you've never done anything like this before, huh?"

"No. Not in the slightest. I've never even sunbathed topless."

"Have you enjoyed it?"

"God yeah. I really have. I'm not sure I want to do it again. But it's been thrilling. Strangely, uh, exciting." I'd really wanted to say erotic, but hadn't dared.

"Exciting, huh? Cool! So, tonight's your night for new experiences then. Do you want to try another one?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

And she stepped up to me on tiptoes and placed her lips on mine. Inhaling through my nose with shock, I stiffened slightly as her arms went around me and her hot, wet mouth moved gently on mine. Thrills and chills ran through me, even as a car horn blared behind my bare back.

"Shall we go inside and see what happens?" she asked, eventually, after another car had beeped at us.

"Um," I gulped, "okay."

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Thanks for reading. Comments and votes are always appreciated. Many thanks to redgarters and SugarStorm for letting me borrow their characters - go read their stories! x