My first solo driving adventures hadn’t been entirely naked, of course, and while I was learning I was dressed as only the most demure librarian would be, so anxious was I that my instructor might discern my secret yearning.
Once I was qualified, I started going out in an opaque bra, one that really could be a bikini top, and a skirt or shorts below. The air was pleasant on my skin but I missed the feeling of danger, even when I skipped the safety net of keeping a blouse on the passenger seat.
I then went to a two-piece bikini without a skirt, but that was almost everyday clothing around here. Although it had gained a few stares the first time I mis-planned my journey length and had to stop at a gas station to fill up. The coastal parts of California may see their fair share of leggy beach types, but they’re less common this far from the sea. I think I made the day of a couple of truckers and one garage owner, and I wonder how many times they watched the surveillance video. I regretted that I hadn’t taken along some heels to slip into rather than the flat sneakers I prefer to drive in, but then I’m not doing this for everyone else’s benefit, am I?
Read the rest of Cruising, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF