textfiles/sex/EROTICA/O/oobat.txt

--------------------------------------------------------
                    The Taboo of Oobat
                      by Rich Pasco

  Copyright © 1985, 1989, 1993 Richard Pasco
  http://www.richpasco.org/
--------------------------------------------------------

     Let's go for a moment to the mythical land of Oobat.  In Oobat,
as in our 20th century Western world, certain parts of the body are
designated "private" and certain very natural and normal bodily actions
are restricted to married couples in private.  But in Oobat, a different
set of parts and acts are so selected....

     Dennis awoke to find the sun streaming in through the patio door,
blanketing Anne's supple form with its golden light.  It was Saturday,
so he decided to surprise her with breakfast in bed.  Pausing briefly in
the bathroom, he tiptoed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  "A
cheese omelet," he thought, "her favorite."  He took out cheddar cheese,
four eggs, and some milk.  After grating some extra cheese for lunch, he
started a frying pan warming, mixed the ingredients, and poured them in.
While the omelet was heating, he poured two glasses of orange juice and
carried them into the bedroom.  "For you," Dennis said, caressing Anne
awake.

     "Thank you."  She smiled as she sat up.  Dennis always enjoyed
seeing Anne's smile, and he was glad to be the one she had chosen to
share it with.

     Dennis returned to the kitchen and turned the omelet.

     Breakfast over, Dennis cleared away the dishes.  When he had
finished loading the dishwasher he returned to the bedroom.

     "I want to wash the car before the sun gets on it," Dennis said,
wrapping his bandanna over his mouth and tying it behind his neck.  He
tightened it beneath his nose, allowing its fitted form to gently wrap
his chin.

     "I'll help," Anne said, as she veiled her lithe face.  It was a
warm day, so she decided to wear nothing else.

     Dennis opened the garage, released the brake, and rolled the car
into the driveway.

     "Good Morning!" he heard his neighbor Andrea call.

     "Hello, Andrea, how are you?" Dennis called back, admiring her
gently curved breasts with their upright nipples.  He often wondered if
her lips were as beautiful.

     "Fine, thank you," Andrea replied.

     Such a melodic voice, Dennis fantasized, must come from a perfect
mouth.  His reverie was interrupted when Anne appeared with a bucket and
a sponge.  "Hi, all set?" he asked.

     "As ready as ever," Anne replied cheerfully, picking up the hose.
She turned on the faucet and aimed the nozzle at the car.  After rinsing
it, she turned the nozzle on Dennis.

     "Hey careful!"  Dennis called out.  Anne giggled as she redirected
the hose at the shrubs lining the driveway.  He really didn't mind,
since he was only wearing his bandanna.  A balmy breeze quickly dried
his body as the water dripped from his penis.  He lathered the windows
with the sponge Anne had tossed him, then tossed it back to her.  As she
caught it, bubbles flew from the sponge and settled in her pubic hair.
They sparkled in the morning light like the dewdrops on the grass.

     When it was time to rinse, Dennis picked up the hose and misted the
car.  A breeze carried the overspray straight into Anne's face.  Her
dampened veil clung to her lips.  Dennis was so familiar with her lovely
features that he could discern their form despite the veil's flowered
pattern, but he was sure no one else would notice.

     As Dennis and Anne toweled the car dry, George the mailman arrived.
As always, his uniform was impeccable: his hat, gloves, and blue
bandanna were perfectly coordinated.  "You've got the old bus looking
pretty good," he complimented as he handed Dennis the mail, "and if I
may say so, Anne's looking pretty nice, too."

     Dennis thanked George as he took the mail, and cast a knowing
glance at Anne.  She knew him well enough to understand that he was a
bit proud of the way her lips shaped her dampened veil.

     Dennis took the mail into the family room and sorted through it.
He removed a couple of ads and tossed them into the trash, dropped the
gas and electric bill on his desk, and settled down in his easy chair
with his Smile magazine.  He peeled off its plain brown wrapper and
dropped it to the floor.

     Anne came in and picked up the wrapper.  "Dennis," she admonished,
"I don't really mind your reading that trash, but please don't litter
the house, O.K.?"

     Dennis mumbled a weak "O.K." as he turned to the feature pictorial,
"Jeannie."  In the first picture, Jeannie appeared in a long evening
gown, white veil and gloves.  Turning the page, Dennis admired a more
risque outfit: she was simply wearing a black lace veil through which he
could discern a hint of red lips.  Curious now, and somewhat impatient,
Dennis turned quickly to the centerfold.  It was a two-page, full face
portrait of Jeannie.  His eyes homed in on her mouth, which was slightly
ajar.  He could discern the whiteness of four teeth, between which was
faintly visible the pink tip of her tongue.  Dennis felt his own mouth
salivate at the sight before him.  He rested his chin in his hand and
eased his fingers under his bandanna.  He felt his thumb slip between
his parted lips and touch the tips of his own teeth, as his tongue
gently brushed his thumbnail.

     "Oh, Dennnnnis..."  Anne's voice calling from the kitchen broke his
fantasy.  "Where'd you put the cheese?"

     "On the bottom shelf of the refrigerator," he replied, walking
out to join her.  He helped her finish the tuna salad and make the
sandwiches.

     They finished packing the lunch basket and walked together to the
park.  It was rather crowded, even for a spring day, but there was
plenty of room to spread their blanket.  Making sure her veil was
secure, Anne pulled off the shift dress she had worn on the way and sat
down on the blanket.  Dennis dropped his shorts and stood beside her.
Anne gently caressed his thighs, her hands drifting up and down between
his legs.  On the upstroke, her fingers brushed against his scrotum as
his testicles swung to and fro.  He felt a surge of warmth and fullness
enter his penis as it rose gently.  Dennis sat beside her and brushed
lightly across her chest, marvelling at how her nipples tightened
beneath his fingertips.  He hugged her tight.  Feeling bold, Dennis
nuzzled his face next to hers, softly smacking his lips as his bandanna
brushed across Anne's veil.

     "Dennis, no, people are watching!" she protested.

     She was right; this was a family park and such suggestive behavior
was not O.K.  He withdrew his face from hers and redirected his
attention to her vulva.  His fingers combed gently through her pubic
hair.  Gently his middle finger dipped into her dampness and worked
its way up to her clitoris.  He made small circles around it, at first
gently, then more firmly, until finally Anne gasped in ecstasy.  Dennis
knew she was ready.  He gently laid her down on the blanket and dragged
his penis lightly across her chest, down her belly, and positioned it
above her vagina.  She grasped it and gently guided its firmness into
her.  Dennis pumped in and out until he felt that familiar satisfaction
of his gushing semen.  Now totally relaxed, he collapsed into Anne's
arms and fell asleep.

     Dennis awoke to feel the warm sun on his back, buttocks, and legs.
He reached out instinctively to caress Anne, letting his hand graze
across her soft, tanned breasts.  His fingers drifted toward her face,
but he stopped short of her veil, realizing there was a volleyball game
in the nearby court, and they were in plain sight of the players.
 Dennis sat up instead, and leaned back to watch the game.  Anne
followed his eyes.  "Look at the muscles on that man," she remarked,
pointing to young man in a green bandanna on the right side of the
court.  His chest hair was as thick as his pubic hair, and his thighs
and buttocks tightened as he jumped for the ball.  "And look how his
bandanna bulges just below his nose.  I wonder if he has a mustache."

     By noon they were getting hungry.  They took their lunch and
carried it to the snack bar, in search of a booth in which to eat.  But
the sign said, "These booths reserved for customers only.  Picnickers
please use west building."  Dennis knew where it was, so he led Anne by
the hand.  They entered its long, dark hallway and soon found an empty
booth.  Securing the door, Anne unpacked the lunch.  Dennis and Anne had
often dreamed about moving to the country, in the hopes of finding a
sufficiently remote spot where they would have enough privacy to eat
outdoors.  But the superior employment prospects of the city held them
captive.

     Soon they had finished, and prepared to return outside.  "Wait,"
Anne said, wiping her mouth and adjusting her veil.  "O.K., now we can
go."

     As they neared the playground, Dennis noticed that the pressure in
his bladder was beginning to rise.  Looking around, he saw a urinal next
to the playground and stopped to pee.  He idly watched the traffic on
McNamara Blvd as relief came.  "Anne, look!" he called.  "There's our
old car!"  Sure enough, there was the car they had sold three months
ago.  "I'd know that dent anywhere," he pointed out, "Remember when we
got that?"

     Anne did indeed remember.  They got that dent on their wedding
night.  After the ceremony Dennis had been in such a hurry to get to
their first dinner together that he had driven into a parked truck.

     Dennis flushed the urinal and took Anne's hand.  They sat down to
watch a softball game for a while, but the sun was growing too intense
and Anne suggested they go home.

     "Sure, after I get a drink," Dennis said.  On the way out of the
park they walked by the Recreation Center.  In back there were two big
doors.  Dennis opened the one labelled "MEN."  Inside, there was a line
of drinking fountains between the usual privacy partitions.  Dennis
stepped up to one, lifted his bandanna, turned on the water, and drank.
Refreshed, he secured his bandanna.  As he emerged, Anne was waiting for
him.  She took his hand and they began their walk home.

             *  *  *  *  *


     Dennis was working on his model airplane when the jangling of the
telephone interrupted him from his concentration.  "Anne, will you get
that?" he called.

     "Sure," she replied, and soon enough the ringing stopped.  In a
few minutes Anne appeared in the doorway, with her hand cupping the
microphone.  "It's the Jacobs," she said.  "They want to know if we can
come and play with them tonight."

     "That sounds like fun," Dennis answered.  "What time did they have
in mind?"

     "Eight O'clock," Anne replied.  "That will give you time to finish
your model, and..." Anne's voice hushed to a whisper as she continued
coyly, "we can even get a little F.O.O.D. before we go."  Dennis
chuckled and nodded.  Anne returned to the telephone and her voice
regained its volume.  "Eight O'clock sounds fine," she said.  "Anything
we can bring?"

     Dennis watched Anne's veil flutter as she spoke.  While he didn't
know what she had in mind for dinner, he always looked forward to eating
with her, and his mouth watered at the thought.

             *  *  *  *  *


     It was 8:15 p.m. as Anne turned the car into Bob and Serena Jacobs'
driveway.  It was the first time Dennis had seen their new home, a
spacious old three-story structure in an established neighborhood.
"Looks like they're moving up in the world," he remarked.

     "Yes, they are," Anne replied.  "Did you know that they paid
$350,000 for that house?"

     Dennis reflected a moment.  "Serena must be doing well in her
professorship," he said.  He had known Serena from when he was a
secretary in the registrar's office.

     Dennis grasped the wrought-iron gate and opened it for Anne.  It
creaked loudly.  As they approached the front door, Serena opened it
for them.  "Hello," she said softly.  Her long blonde hair fell from
a sparkling white beret and framed her blue eyes and lily-white veil.
Her floor-length dress was equally white.  Its low-cut front exposed
beautifully rounded tanned breasts, with copper nipples contrasting with
the tips of hair which cascaded over them.  White gloves graced her
long, slender hands, and just met her ruffled sleeves.  Her shapely
bare feet peeked out from below the edges of her skirt.  "Come in," she
beckoned.

     "Don't mind if we do," answered Dennis, in his usual style of
speaking for Anne as well as himself.  Anne stepped through the door,
and Dennis followed.

     Bob came down the stairs.  "Hi, Anne; hi, Dennis," he said warmly.
He was wearing a navy-blue sailor cap, red checked bandanna, western
shirt, and blue jeans.  Leather gloves completed his outfit.

     "I didn't know it was formal.  May I make myself at home?" Dennis
said, removing his gloves.  He knew Bob and Serena well enough that they
wouldn't object.

     "It's not formal at all," Serena explained.  We just enjoy looking
good.  Here, make yourself more comfortable," she said to Dennis.  She
handed him a hanger.  Dennis took off his jeans and hung them on the
hanger, handing it back to Serena.  She opened the hall closet and hung
it up.

     "Please come, sit down," Bob invited, gesturing toward the living
room.  Anne followed his gesture and sat on a loveseat, allowing room
for Bob to join her.

     Serena took Dennis' hand and led him to the couch.  Dennis felt
a childlike delight at her tender touch.  His mind raced ahead to the
wonders that lay before him.  Glancing to Anne, he could see that she
too was enchanted by the prospects of what was to come.  He settled down
at the left end of the couch, providing ample room for Serena to relax
at his side.

     For the next hour Dennis and Serena recalled the events which had
lead to Dennis's leaving the university and to Serena's promotion.  The
intervening months were quickly spanned, and soon Dennis felt as close
to Serena as he had on their last day together.

     Serena gasped softly as Dennis gently stroked her golden breasts.
Suddenly a thumpety-thump of little feet ran down the back stairs, and
a clatter of dishes resounded from the sink.  After the water turned on
and off a few times, the kitchen door opened and young Tara entered the
living room.  Her delicate blue eyes peeked over a colorfully spotted
kerchief.  Her otherwise nude form glowed with a golden tan.  "Mom," she
said to Serena, "May I watch TV?"

     "Sure," Serena replied as she caressed Tara's small butt, "But I'd
like you to use the earphones so we can hear our conversation.  I'll
get them down for you."  Serena stood up and followed Tara to the hall
closet.

     Dennis remembered his own childhood.  He had never dared to admit
to his father that he had raided the refrigerator, though Dad must have
known by his growth.  How paradoxical, he thought, that parents know
that eating is a normal part of growth, and by making food available
tacitly encourage their children to eat, yet never allow the children to
witness them in the act itself.

     Tara switched on the television and plugged in the earphones.  She
pulled a small rocker and hassock around in front of the television and
propped up her feet.

     Serena returned to her position at Dennis' right on the couch.  She
leaned back against the armrest and lifted her left foot to the back of
the couch.  Dennis let his right hand brush along Serena's leg until it
grazed her pubic hair.  He pressed it gently into the softness of her
vulva and felt her familiar wetness.  Gently pressing against her
clitoris, his fingertip slipped inside her vagina, until he found her
G-spot, which he massaged gently until she sighed.

     Dennis glanced back at Tara.  By now she was engrossed in the show.
Her eyes were riveted on the screen, and her right hand was pressed
tightly against the hairless mound between her thighs.  Every so often
she would push her feet against the hassock and the chair would rock
slightly, her hand massaging her yet-to-develop pubic area.

     His eyes drifted to Anne, who was sitting with Bob on the floor
before the fireplace, her eyes gazing into his and her legs straddling
his.  She was lightly stroking him from his chest to his legs, letting
her hands graze lightly over his fully erect penis on each pass.  Dennis
felt a surge of pride in knowing that such a sensitive lady had chosen
him to be her husband.

     After several hours had passed and young Tara had gone to bed, Anne
suggested, "Well, Dennis, what do you think about going home for some
shut-eye?"

     Dennis had to agree.  While he was enjoying the evening, it was
getting late, and he thought about the chores that had to be done
tomorrow.  Bob retrieved their clothes from the closet and handed them
to Dennis and Anne.  Before putting them on, Dennis embraced Bob,
hugging him firmly.  "Thanks, Bob, for a great evening," Dennis said.

     "And thank you," Bob replied.  As he spoke, Dennis could feel Bob's
penis gently swinging against his own.  Anne and Serena were similarly
exchanging good-night hugs as Dennis secured his bandanna and donned his
shirt and jeans.

             *  *  *  *  *


     Dennis had been at his business conference for three days when he
learned that his meeting for tomorrow was canceled, so he decided to
return home a day early.  He thought of calling Anne with the good news,
but decided he would surprise her instead.

     It was about 8:00 p.m. as he turned into the driveway and opened
the garage door.  Hunger pangs gnawing, he wearily opened the door into
the kitchen, expecting to find that Anne had snacked by herself, as she
usually did when he had to be away for a meal.  He didn't mind, as she
always visited with him as he ate, anyway.  But this time on the dining
room table he found two dirty plates, two wine glasses, and two sets of
silverware.  Suddenly the pieces fell into place: the extra grocery bag
he had found in the trash last week, the strange bandanna he had found
in his drawer, Anne's lack of appetite when they dined together.  She
had been eating with another man!  Dennis could not contain his shock.
Delirious with rage, he ran to the bedroom and confronted Anne, whom he
had heard calling, "Bob, is that you?"

     "No, it's Dennis!  Remember me, your husband?"  Dennis was livid.
"So it was Bob, huh?  Don't I make enough of a dinner partner for you?
Is it his mustache you crave?  Or the way he chews?"

     "Settle down, Dennis," Anne replied.  She was clearly shaken by
Dennis's surprise return, but she tried to remain calm.  "I can explain
everything."

     "There's nothing left to explain!" Dennis bellowed.  "It's clear
enough to me.  It's over!"  With that, Dennis turned and ran out the
front door, slamming it behind himself.

     Still trembling, Dennis started the car and drove to a nearby
restaurant.  "One, please," he told the hostess.  She escorted him to a
vacant booth and handed him a menu.  The restaurant was kind of a dive;
it had only curtains between the booths, not the solid walls of the more
reputable establishments.  But it would suit him fine for tonight; in
fact, they would be less likely to challenge the fact that he was alone
here.  Soon a waiter appeared and took his order for a hamburger and
fries.  While waiting for the meal, Dennis's thoughts raced.  "Why," he
pondered, "would she cheat on me like that.  What did I do?  And what
can I do now?  Let's see, Mr. Stewart at the office knows a good lawyer;
I'll call him in the morning."

     Dennis's stomach was still churning when the waiter brought his
meal.
 "Enjoy your dinner," the waiter said.  He closed the curtain, turned
and left.

     Dennis loosened his bandanna and let it fall around his neck.  He
picked up a fork and poked mindlessly at the hamburger.  Even though he
hadn't eaten in nearly a day, he couldn't get very interested in the
plate before him.  Visions of Anne sitting across the table from Bob
raced through his head.  He shuddered at the thought of Bob watching
Anne open her mouth to accept a forkful of food.  His stomach churned as
he envisioned Bob chewing a steak while Anne watched.  "How could she
enjoy that with him?" he wondered.  "Didn't we vow to forsake all
others?  How have I failed?  No, it's not me; it's her.  I should have
known she was just an animal by the way she ate.  I should have known I
could never satisfy her."

     Finally Dennis did manage to chew and swallow three mouthfuls of
his burger.  He wiped his mouth with the napkin, put on his bandanna,
and opened the curtain.  The waiter, seeing the open curtain, brought
the check.  Dennis picked it up and took it to the cashier.

     Dennis was too shaken to confront Anne again that night.  He
checked into the motel on McNamara Blvd., the one which he had passed by
every day but hardly noticed because he never before thought he would
need a motel so close to home.

     He had understood that Anne often slept with Bob when he was away;
that was fine with him.  He knew that she was lonely and needed a warm
body to share her bed.  He understood how horny Anne was, and he knew he
couldn't always be with her.  Besides, he knew Bob was a good lover who
could easily bring her off.  But Dennis had always assumed that things
between Bob and Anne were purely sexual, as they were when he had played
with Serena.  He had believed that Anne never removed her veil for
anyone but him (except her dentist, but that was different).  Dennis had
of course fantasized about watching Serena eat, but it had only been a
fantasy, and as such it had never threatened his marriage.
 Now he knew that for Anne and Bob it was a reality.

     Dennis awoke to the sounds of the rush hour traffic beneath his
window and the birds chirping in the wires above McNamara Boulevard.
Opening his eyes, he was momentarily puzzled by the strange room.
Suddenly the events of last night came back to him.  Still numbed by the
shock, he threw his things into the suitcase, put on his best paisley
bandanna, and checked out.

     The familiar streets seemed surreal as Dennis drove toward his
office.  Stumbling past the receptionist with a mumbled "good morning,"
he found his desk and picked up the phone.  Normally Stewart's extension
would leap to his fingers, but this time he had to rummage for the
company phone list.

     "Joe?  This is Dennis.  Listen, I got a problem.  You know that
lawyer you used when you had that accident?"

     Dennis related the incident of last night and his conviction that
his marriage was over.  He soon wrote, "George Penham, Penham and
Dunlop, 1400 Park Avenue, Suite 1210."  "Top floor of the Western Bank
Building," Dennis thought as he wrote.  "This is gonna cost me a pile."

     Luckily Dennis was able to obtain an appointment for later that
morning.  On his way out the door, he turned to his secretary for the
first time this week.  "I've had a personal emergency," he explained.
"If anyone calls, I'm still out of town."

             *  *  *  *  *


     Mr. Penham will see you now," the receptionist said as he escorted
Dennis in.

     Penham was leaning back in his high leather chair, casually
stroking his penis.  "Have a seat," he said.  "What can I do for you,
Mr.  Green?  You said you wanted a divorce?"

     Dennis sat down in the guest chair in front of the mammoth oak desk
and again related his story.  "Anne--my wife--she's been messing around
with another guy.  It's not that she's been a bad wife, you know; she's
a good sex partner and all, but she can't confine her meals to just
between us."

     Penham idly scratched his balls as he pondered what Dennis was
telling him.  Finally he leaned forward, folded his arms across the slab
of glass topping the desk, and looked Dennis in the eye.  "It's not
going to be cheap," he said.  "She'll probably get to keep the house,
and you'll have to pay alimony..."

     "But it was her fault!" Dennis protested.

     "Well, `fault' isn't considered in this state, anymore," Penham
explained.  "And if it were, it was you who left her.  But listen, I
have another idea.  I don't want to get too involved in this until you
two have had a chance to talk to a marriage counselor.  Here, see if
you can get your wife to see Mary Belleville with you."  He pulled a
business card from his desk, handed it to Dennis, and rose to shake
hands.

     Dennis wandered out of Penham's office and back to his own, not
really feeling he had accomplished anything for his time.  Blindly
following instructions, he called Mary Belleville and explained Penham's
referral.  He learned that she would be free all day tomorrow.

     Now for the hard part, Dennis thought, as he called home.  He
nervously dialed his home number, not knowing how Anne would react.

     "Anne, it's Dennis," he said.  "Listen, I think we really need to
talk things out.  Could you meet with me and Mary Belleville tomorrow
sometime?  She's a marriage counselor, and, well, it's worth a try, if
she could help us put things between us back they way they were."

     Dennis was relieved to hear Anne agree.  "Maybe she feels guilty
for how she treated me," he thought.  He was also a bit embarrassed
for his outburst of last night, but he was not ready to admit that to
himself, yet.

             *  *  *  *  *


     During the first session with Mary Belleville, Dennis had acquired
a respect for her perceptiveness, and he was quite optimistic as he
waited in her reception room for their second session to begin.  Anne
entered and sat down across from him.  He nodded to affirm her presence,
but still felt it best to not begin a conversation until Ms.  Belleville
was available to moderate.  He knew that she would be able to call them
at their games and keep the discussion headed in a positive direction.
Instead, Dennis focused his attention on the aquarium.

     A small piece of food slowly drifted down from the surface, but
before it was halfway to the bottom it was engulfed by a hungry fish.
"How simple it is for them," Dennis thought.  "They freely eat whatever
comes their way, in a glass tank where everyone can watch.  They don't
need to pair off in private for their meals...."  Dennis' thought was
interrupted when the office door opened.  Mary ushered them in.

     "So far, we've discovered that you two still have a lot of love for
each other," she summarized the previous session, "but you sometimes get
into trouble when you encounter new situations where you haven't had
a chance to rationally explore your feelings.  Instead, you react
according to deeply programmed messages about how you `should' feel.
Perhaps you need to experience an environment where you can confront
your feelings, challenge what was taught you as a child, and find what
fits for yourselves now."

     "Sounds like a good idea to me," Dennis replied, "but that's all
pretty abstract.  What did you have in mind?"

     "Have you ever considered visiting a...."  Mary paused as she
looked at Anne.  She wanted to be careful that Anne was part of the
process as well.  Anne's curious eyes conveyed that she wanted Mary to
continue.  "...a nudist park?"

     Anne's expression turned to shock.  "I could never do that!" she
protested.

     Dennis was intrigued by the idea but he knew Anne would be hard
to convince.  He recalled about the most risque thing they had done
together: their visit to the adult book store on their last trip to the
city.  Secretly he had been fascinated by the row after row of magazines
for sale.  Not just soft-core, like his Smile, but hard-core ones as
well which actually showed people in the act of eating.  Anne had
been so disgusted that they had to leave before Dennis' curiosity was
satisfied.

     Mary's voice became reassuring and supportive.  "Many people tend
to confuse nudism with pornography," she explained, "but actually the
only thing they have in common is the exposed faces.  A nudist park is
simply a place where people are free of society's restriction to keep
their mouths covered.  No one will salivate when they see you, because
in that environment, exposing one's mouth is not a sign that it's time
to eat."

     Dennis, too, began to grasp the difference.  "Anne, it's not like
what we saw in that bookstore," he reasoned.  "There we saw pictures of
people who were eating for the camera and its paying customers.  The
publishers were exploiting the models to make a profit.  I think what
Mary's talking about is quite different: people take off their bandannas
and veils because the freedom feels good to themselves.  And I'm sure it
would feel good to you and me both."

     Mary nodded in agreement, and from watching Anne she could see
that Anne understood too.  "So you mean, you don't see people eating in
public there?" Anne asked.

     "Of course not," Mary reassured.

     "Well, perhaps it wouldn't hurt, to try it just once, if there
would be no pressure," Anne hesitantly ventured.

     "No pressure," Dennis promised.  He could tell that Anne was
extending herself because she wanted to reconcile their differences, and
he too wanted her to feel comfortable in her decision.

             *  *  *  *  *


     The day was sunny and warm.  As they arrived at the park, they
saw a large sign:  "OFFICE.  Please stop and register."  With some
apprehension, Dennis parked the car at the side of the driveway, got
out, and opened the door for Anne.  He watched her deeply tanned body
slide from the car, and as he admired her he knew it was worth settling
their differences.  He opened the office door and they stepped in.

     "Hello there," welcomed the manager at the desk.  His voice was
particularly clear, and Dennis could see why:  Where one would expecting
to see a bandanna, he instead saw only a mustache which did little to
conceal the lips below forming his words.

     "May I help you?" the manager asked.  Dennis watched Anne for her
reaction.  She was doing her best to look at the floor, somehow feeling
it inappropriate to look at this stranger's naked face.  But the
manager's question caught her attention.

     "Mary Belleville sent us," Anne volunteered.  "She said we should
check in here."

     "Oh, yes, she said to expect you.  Since this is your first visit,
there is no charge, but I will need you to fill out this registration."
He handed her an index card form.

     When they had completed registration, the manager directed them
to the main parking lot.  They quickly found the swimming pool, and
unfolded two lawn chairs on its deck.

     Dennis felt an initial twinge of embarrassment as he witnessed the
scene before him.  Here, dozens of adults of both sexes and children
of all ages shared a common swimming pool.  Every one of them was
completely naked, without even the smallest bandanna or veil covering
his mouth.  Ironically, Dennis was the one who was embarrassed, yet he
was the only one who was covered.  He looked at Anne and was surprised
to see that she had removed her veil!

     "When in Rome, ..." Anne said, and with that she dived into the
pool.
 Dennis recalled the manager's explanation that bandannas were
prohibited in the water, and since he wanted to follow Anne, he took a
deep breath, gritted his teeth, and untied his bandanna.  For the first
time Dennis felt the warmth of the sunshine on his cheeks.  Cautiously
at first, then with greater speed, he let his breath escape through
slightly parted lips.  Something felt different, cooler and more free,
as the wind carried his breath away without a bandanna to trap its warm
moisture against his cheeks.  Now, exalting in his new freedom, Dennis
took a second deep breath and dived into the pool to join Anne.

     With childlike glee Dennis swam the length of the pool.  Each time
he raised his head to take a breath he found it unusually easy.  Without
a soggy bandanna obstructing the air flow, he could inhale in half the
time.  And he didn't need to fear that the water might displace it.
Somehow it all seemed so natural.

     Later that afternoon, Dennis took Anne's hand and led her to the
lawn where a number of people were talking.  By now he had become
accustomed to seeing uncovered faces.

     Dennis thought back to the models in his magazines.  Compared to
what he was seeing now, they had always looked so artificial, with
makeup and lipstick calling attention to their secret parts.  Somehow
the members of the club looked more natural and healthy with their all-
over tans than he had expected.  He looked at Anne's pallid cheeks and
the artificial-looking lines where her tan stopped just below her nose.
He felt momentarily conspicuous as he considered how his own face must
look.  But soon one of the strangers greeted Anne and himself and his
fear was dissipated.

     "Hello," a young lady said, "is this your first visit?"  She was
no more than about 22, and Dennis was having trouble knowing where to
place his eyes as she spoke.  He did his best to make good eye contact,
resisting the temptation to let his gaze fall to the lips talking just
below.

     "Why, yes," he responded.  By now he was avoiding her face
entirely; it felt safer to rest his eyes on her breasts.

     "We're friends of Mary Belleville," Anne offered.  Dennis could see
that Anne didn't want to explain the chain of circumstances which had
led to their visit.  Instead, Anne commented on the game in progress
behind them.  "Is chess very popular here?" she asked.

     "Yes, it is.  I really love the game," the young lady replied.
"Oh, by the way, my name is Anita."

     Anne introduced Dennis and herself, whereupon Anita introduced her
friend Steve and invited the newcomers to sit down.

     After an hour's conversation, Dennis had almost forgotten that
Anita and Steve were nude.  Anne and he were freely conversing with
them, their words freely flowing from uncovered lips with scarcely a
thought to their exposure.  What he did feel was a new comfort which was
difficult to pinpoint.  Reflecting a bit, Dennis realized that their
communication involved more than just the sounds of the words.  Because
he could see the mouths making the words, there was more information
flowing.  The tone of voice was augmented by slight nuances in
expression not normally noticed: a smile or a frown made it difficult to
hold pretenses.  Somehow the people he had met today seemed much more
sincere, more genuine, than people he met in the outside world.

             *  *  *  *  *


     As the sun began to settle behind the trees, Dennis felt some
familiar hunger pangs growl in his stomach.  He had had a wonderful time
today, and for the first time since he had discovered Anne's affair he
felt like he wanted to share dinner with her.  "Anne," he said, taking
her hand and looking into her eyes, "I love you."

     "Oh, Dennis, I love you, too," Anne replied.  "Meals have been so
lonely since you left."

     Dennis watched Anne's lips as she spoke.  He remembered how
wonderful he had felt when they first kissed.  He remembered the many
meals they had shared, how much he enjoyed sharing the sheer physical
joys of ingestion with someone he cared about as deeply as Anne.  "Anne,
let's go home!" Dennis blurted out.  With that, he put his arms around
her and gave her a giant bear hug.

     Anne's arms surrounded Dennis and from the strength of her hug,
Dennis knew the answer was "yes".

     Now Dennis was seeing things in a new light.  "If Anne wants to
dine with Bob, then that's what she should do," Dennis thought to
himself.  "I love her, but after all, I don't own her.  By understanding
this, I give her the freedom to love me, too."  Suddenly it didn't
matter what had happened with Bob.  Dennis didn't care what else Anne
did, if she was happy; all he cared was that they would share more
wonderful dinners together.  A chill ran through his body.  Dennis
didn't know whether it was from his thoughts or from the evening breeze
coming in over the hills, but he knew it was time to go.  Stepping back
from Anne, he again gazed at her pretty face and caressed her body
lightly, running his hands down her back to her butt, around the front,
through her pubic hair, up her chest, pausing briefly to tickle each
nipple, then up to her neck.  He wanted to touch her chin and guide her
lips to his, but he knew that would need to wait until they were in
private.  Instead, he took her hand.  "Let's go," he said, leading her
to the parking lot.

--------------------------------------------------------
                    The Taboo of Oobat
                      by Rich Pasco

  Copyright © 1985, 1989, 1993 Richard Pasco
  http://www.richpasco.org/
--------------------------------------------------------