Tag Archives: full tan

Never Argue with mother

Never argue with mother, and never, ever, call her old fashioned. I learned this the hard way. After a year at college, I thought I knew more than she did. I even told her so. that did it. She taught me the meaning of respect.

You see, for the first few weeks of summer vacation, I had been waiting for Mom to head to work, for me to head to the back yard to work on my tan. Last year, I showed up on campus with a nice dark tan and bright little tan lines. I do mean little, too. Last summer I wore this daring little micro mini bikini just to get the small tanlines. I wanted the other girls to see I was no prude. They needn’t know I only dared to wear that bikini in the privacy of my backyard.

Well, it worked, but not the way I intended. The girls rationalized if I was willing to wear such tiny bikinis, what difference did it really matter if I went without? A square inch or two of material for covering? I was practically naked, so when I had to get naked on campus, they just reminded me I was practically naked all summer. All I was showing anew were my nipples since, the tiny strip of bikini left much of my breast exposed. And as far as my bottoms went, the tiny tanline strip over my pussy was barely visible. I got no sympathy from the girls at the dorm whether I was stripped during an inspection, and stripped I was, a lot.

Forced to wear sheer tops to minimize the inspections like other girls, I got more inspections because at a glance, the tanline appeared to be a top under the blouse. Any short dress gave glimpses under the hem of a flash of tanline that the inspectors thought I was trying to wear a g-string under my dress. I was being stripped search all the time. And with such a dark tan, it took much of the school year for that tan to fade.

So my solution this summer? No tanlines. I started laying out back naked to make sure my tan was all over. I even placed a pillow under my hips to ensure no cheek smile tanlines with my legs apart towards the sun for a complete tan between my legs. I took the same precautions to get a full tan under my boobs without any hidden tanline.


All was going good, or so I thought.

Then one day, Mom returned home midday and caught me laying naked outside. She was not happy about my decision to be naked outside. I said those words I regretted. She simply locked the doors to the house and left me outside naked as she returned to work.

Now, being naked outside was not a big deal to me, but I had been careful to avoid letting the neighbors spot me, and I even had a few close calls with the meter readers. Now, I was locked outside for anyone coming through the backyards. Somehow I managed to go undetected that day even though the one neighbor did mow his lawn.

When Mom got home, she left me outside until dinner was ready, then she served the meal on the back patio. I was not allowed inside until it was dark. I was stupid, too. I did not apologize. I made her believe this “punishment” was no big deal. I fell for her trap, and she locked me outside naked once again. This time, the mailman delivered a package, and came around back to leave it. He found me there. I shrugged. He smiled.

It seemed day after day of being locked out of the house meant more and more people seeing me naked. One day, I had to go the bathroom, and I was forced to walk next door to ask the neighbor. He was all questions about me not just being naked, but being so tanned with tanlines. I spent much of the afternoon at his place telling him the story.

He thought it unwise for a young girl to be locked out of her house all day, so he offered his place to me for as long as my mother was punishing me. I should not have accepted his generous offer so quickly. I came over the next day since it looked like storm clouds only to find him and two of his retiree buddies playing cards. I was the fourth for Bridge. They all wanted to see that I had a full and complete tan, too.

When this neighbor had to leave town for a few days, he asked the other neighbor to check in on me, and soon, that other neighbor and his golfing buddies all spent a considerable amount of time with me. I’m not even sure how they convinced me to go to their golf club to “caddy” for them, driving the cart all around the course without so much as shoes or a visor cap. Now, their golf club had seen me naked, and I was invited to come back as many other club members would enjoy a naked caddy for their golf games, too.

I just never told Mom what I was doing during the day. She assumed I was hiding in the backyard. So when she was starting to think I had learned my lesson, I was really having fun and making some spending money.

Mom eventually found out because some idiot at her work place was bragging about having a naked caddy at the club, and Mom put it together to surprise me at this exclusive club. She made sure I was working there full time, too. She dropped me off there each morning, and picked me up after her work. Not to be satisfied with that, she drove me to the strip club where I danced all night. She figured if I was going to be naked for the world to see, I should be seen plus I should make some serious money for tuition.

The only thing saving me was that my friends were not old enough for the strip joints and not members at the country club. Mom finally figured out having my friends know of my naked summer would be embarrassing, and she made sure they all got their time to see me naked on my days off from dancing and caddy work.

So, here is the middle of summer, and I realized in my quest to minimize my nudity on campus, I just maximized my nudity at home. I knew by the time I went back to college, public nudity would never bother me again. And it would have to be that way, too. The one time I peeked into my closet just to see and touch my clothes, I discovered Mom had removed all my clothing and donated them to the Goodwill. She replaced my entire wardrobe with a few very sheer nighties. She told me that was all I would need at school.

Never argue with mother.

images courtesy of DOMAI.com, used with permission