Photo by Simon Bolz
The final step came when, one late afternoon, I walked out to the car in my bikini, wearing my tallest heels and sunglasses to hide my eyes. I caught a sight of my reflection in the door mirror as I walked and it made me stop. I felt like I was the very essence of sex appeal. And then, I realised that I needed to get rid of my safety net. I unclipped my bikini top and untied the bottoms and tossed them back on the porch. I continued the walk to the car naked and climbed in, feeling like a supermodel and wishing that someone was there to see me.
I pressed the starter button and the V8 engine roared into life. I carefully checked the fuel gauge: I had well over half a tank and I was only going to be out for an hour. I was all set.
I pulled out of the driveway, onto the suburban road and cruised slowly past the few houses that dotted the hillside. I had never driven this part naked before and I realised that if anyone happened to look out of a first floor window then they would be looking right down at me, and they would recognise me and the car. I also realised that I didn’t care what they thought, and the risk even turned me on.