An Old Naturist

The old naturist stood leaning lazily against a tree on a small hill overlooking a field of wildflowers. He watched intently as a woman made her way carefully through the flowers to the middle of the field. There she stopped, leaned over and spread her arms to gather in the fragrance that hung in the air all about her. 

Her long, pendulous breasts disappeared among the flowers, mingling among the white and lavender blossoms. It was an enchanted scene, a moment he wished to capture, to memorize, to keep close and take with him, but then she looked up and saw him standing there, watching her, and he looked down and realized he had an erection. 

The moment had already past and it was too late for him to be embarrassed or to hide in shame. She stood up smiling and laughing and called out to him, "You certainly are a handsome fellow today!" 

She couldn't help but be pleased, for he had just reaffirmed what she already knew, that she was still an attractive, desirable woman, and that the man standing there, that man she had married so many years ago was still in awe of her, still enamored by her ageless beauty.

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