Libby's Journal - March

March 3

We have had two monthly cycles so far in which we have employed the turkey baster. Although it hasn't actually worked yet, I am feeling very positive. And it has been so nice to see Mona and Jack becoming such good friends. They shoot hoops in the driveway and go at each other mercilessly in any board game or other competition.

Since all of this started, I have been careful to make sure I was wearing clothing whenever Jack was around because I assumed that's what Mona might prefer, at least for a while. I hadn't even mentioned it to her. I had, of course, gone nude in front of several of her dude friends, so it only made sense to do so in front of Jack, but I was determined not to raise that subject myself.

Yesterday was so sunny and spring-like I spent all afternoon outside. We were having Jack over for dinner, so I came in around five and took a quick shower. I was starting to put on a dress when Mona came into the bedroom, took the dress from my hands and hung it up again.

"You don't need to do that for me," she said. "You just stay naked the way you belong."

"Okay," I said, relieved that she had made that decision, and without any prompting from me. "Should we, you know, tell him first?"

Mona laughed and stage-whispered, "hasn't he seen you naked before?"

"Well, yeah, but not lately, and you know I don't like to surprise people."

She shrugged and picked up the cordless phone. As she sauntered out of the room I heard her saying, "Jack, I have a question for you."

But as I would soon realize, she only asked him if he had any red wine.

So there I was cooking dinner naked and bopping to the music we had on. I heard Jack on the back porch, and Mona opened the door, positioning herself so she could watch his expression as he saw me.

I whirled around to say hi to him and caught the grin of surprise on his face. Of course, he had seen me nude many times back when we were dating, and he knew I rarely wore clothes at home and that it was probably only a matter of time before I would do it around him. He just didn't know this would be the day, so he was only a little surprised. But Mona still got a big kick out of it. She laughed 'til she snorted because she had played this little trick on him.

* * * * *

March 7

I went to my shrink today, and she says I am doing really well. Under her supervision, I weaned off of Depakote in December-January for the duration of the pregnancy effort, which of course could take several months. There is a slight risk of birth defects for the first trimester. We have already gone through two ovulation cycles but have not yet been successful, and that has been fueling some churning worry on my part. Normally, my manic periods are happy, carefree and hyper-focused on whatever art project or home design idea I may have at that time, but if I am not careful, that same intensity can re-focus itself on something I am worried about. That has only happened to me a few times in my life, but my fixation on pregnancy is already pretty intense, so we talked about that and how to cope, etc.

Normally, I only see my psychiatrist a few times a year, but monthly I see a therapist to talk about things. So right now I am seeing both of them.

I recently started volunteering two or three days a week at the public library where I've made some new friends. They invited me to join their book group, and I went to my first meeting a couple weeks ago. This, by the way, was the evening after Valentine's Day, so I still had my hearts on me. Most of them were covered by my clothing, of course, but I had a few inches of exposed midriff, so plenty were visible. I did my best to be demure as I explained them, but my audience still found it titillating. These are all straight chicks with husbands and families, and they seem to find me rather exotic. They have no idea.

I have also been volunteering at a food pantry operated by the church I go to. It is a rag-tag little Catholic parish in a poor neighborhood. Some of the other volunteers have been doing it for a long time, and they handle the check-ins and the counting of points at the end. My job is to help people in the middle of the process as they look for things they need, and I am always dashing back to the store room to replenish items. I chat with everyone who comes through.

At home, we are a bustling little household because Andrea and Dana have been staying with us during construction on their new home, which is on "the estate" but still a good hike from our house. Jack is often here, but stays up in his cabin. Every time I go up there, I see more work that he has done fixing up the insides. He owns lots of old books, and so he has built-in bookshelves that are beautifully crafted and stained (because he is a pro at that kind of work). It fills my cup when I see him doing that kind of thing -- not just fixing up the cabin, but preparing it for his books and things.

* * * * *

March 9

Molly came last night for the weekend and overnight it started snowing. In the morning, the snow was still coming down but the forecast called for 40 degrees and rain later in the day. Naturally, Molly and I decided we'd better hurry up and go frolic naked in the snow while we could!

Wearing only boots, we hiked around the estate. There was no wind but just giant wet snowflakes coming down silently and melting on our skin.

We climbed up the hill and stood under pine trees, shaking their lowest branches to dislodge blobs of snow that fell down on us.

While we were going from tree to tree doing this -- squealing in laughter each time we were hit -- we heard an engine down below and saw Jack's old pickup truck chugging up the drive to his little house. The truck is an antique that he restored, with those big round fenders in the front, and in the snowfall, it looked like a Christmas card.

Mona and I had, of course, told Molly all about Jack -- and told him about her -- but they had not yet met. I wasn't sure if she'd want to under the circumstances and told her we could easily make our way back to my house without him seeing, but that if we kept going down the path we were on that we would pass his house.

She did not hesitate a nanosecond to make her choice, and so we went on down the trail and soon saw the truck again, now parked outside of Jack's little A-frame cottage. He was outside shoveling snow off his porch, but when he saw us he stopped, leaned on his shovel and watched us approach.

When we got close enough to talk, I introduced them in a formal way. They were both grinning at the experience and probably exchanging pheromones. Jack told us when he first saw us from a distance he thought she was Mona. We all laughed at that because we knew that cavorting naked in the snow was something she would never, ever do -- unless, perhaps, it was a competitive sporting event.

The snow, by this point, was quickly becoming rain, and both our bodies were shiny wet -- while Jack was up on his porch and dry. He asked if we would like to come in or at least step up out of the weather. I made a polite excuse to decline, thinking (erroneously as it turned out) that Molly wouldn't want to take the nude encounter quite that far. So, we waved goodbye and walked on down the hill. Molly was bubbly with giggly excitement because, she told me, the absolute sexiest thing in the world to her was meeting someone for the first time when she is naked -- and that THIS moment had been especially sexy because she knew that our wet bodies were so brightly lit by the winter daylight reflecting off all the snow around us. And also, she added after a pause, because Jack is "so lumberjack handsome."

I agreed with her on all points, of course.

* * * * *

March 13

When I started going naked around Jack again a couple weekends ago, it felt very natural and not overly sexual because we were just doing normal things like having dinner or talking. But then this weekend I was ovulating, so it was time for us to have another go with the turkey baster.

I was unsure what to do about clothing. I mean, just because I'd let him see me nude a couple of times recently didn't mean that I had to do so during this particular event. But when I mentioned it to Mona, she just laughed and said I could do whatever I wanted but that she highly recommended I stay naked. "It'll be fun!" she said.

So Jack came over, and we all went upstairs. Mona handed him his cup and sent him off to the bathroom, and then she helped me get positioned upside down on the bed with my legs up against the wall.

When he was done with his little task, he waited in the doorway for Mona to come and get it, and then he went down the hallway to give us privacy for the next step. Mona got the turkey baster loaded up and then gently inserted it into me, squirting it a few times with the squeeze ball and wiggling it a little to get every drop out. As she was doing this, she gave my clitoris a little attention with her thumb -- which, you know, is just part of the strict scientific protocol that we follow. So after Mona pulled the baster out of me, she patted me dry with a tissue and then kissed me there for a long moment -- so long that I thought she was beginning the orgasm phase of the protocol, but then she pulled her head away and called for Jack.

This time, instead of meeting him in the doorway, she continued to sit next to me on the bed and just held out the cup with the baster sticking out of it. Jack was a little hesitant, waiting for a cue from me on whether I would be more comfortable with him staying in the hallway. Mona just laughed and motioned him inside, so he looked at my upside-down face to check. I nodded and smiled, and he had to walk all the way to the bed and reach across me to take it from her, which of course she did on purpose because she gets a kick out of this. He looked at my eyes and tried really hard not to look elsewhere -- I could tell he tried. But after all, I was naked and upside down, and even if I'd still had pubic hair, it wouldn't have provided any cover in that position. I knew I was completely exposed regardless of what I did with my legs, but I also knew that HE knew I didn't want him to try TOO hard. After a few valiant seconds to establish his gentlemanly bona fides, he gave up and looked where we both wanted him to look. Then his eyes met mine again, and we grinned at each other, and my face felt hot as Mona laughed and laughed.

So, Jack took the cup and baster and went to rinse them out, giving us time to finish what we all knew needed to be done right then. She started kissing me between my legs, and it only took about four seconds for me to have a thunderous but reasonably quiet orgasm. While I was still panting, she called his name again, and when he appeared at the doorway, she gestured for him to sit in the easy chair next to us like he normally does, and I stayed in position for 15 minutes as we all talked.

And I felt really good about the situation because trying to have a baby -- even with a turkey baster -- is such an intimate thing, and it felt right that he would see me so naked and exposed. Granted, I have been grooving on mania lately, so everything felt right. As always, I felt convinced that THIS time it was working, and in that feeling of joy it made perfect sense that my nakedness should not be hidden from the man whose sperm cells I now had swimming around inside of me.

And as we did last month, we made several deposits while I was ovulating, so this scene played out over and over again the past couple of days.

* * * * *

March 15

I had a nice nap this afternoon and had my favorite dream again. I have had it several times. I dream that me and Mona are both pregnant.

In the dream, we are both eight or nine months along, really really big. And we are laying together in bed, nude, our bellies touching and our arms wrapped around each other. And our babies are moving inside, and we can each feel the other baby moving against our skin. They are communicating, getting to know each other, like twins in adjoining rooms.

I first had that dream a couple years ago and have had it several times since -- though it is a dream I sort of induce myself to have. have written about this and several other dreams on my Dreams and Fantasies page.

* * * * *

It's mid-March so ya know what that means -- Mona watching endless basketball on TV, that's what. Yesterday we watched two games in a row with a bunch of her friends, but one of them was a women's game and I do like to watch those. I have no allegiance to any team, but root for whatever players I am attracted to.

Mona, as you all know, is not just a rabid fan of college basketball but also a former participant. She and Andrea led their small school all the way to the Final Four as a "Cinderella" team that normally wouldn't be that competitive had it not been for a few great players. Six-foot Andrea played center, of course, while Mona was the player who controlled the offense and scored the most points. I went to a different college, a couple years behind them, and paid zero attention to sports and knew nothing about their heroics at the time -- though they did get national attention and were pictured on the covers of both Sports Illustrated and Curve.

Most of their other former teammates are now spread around the country, but one of them, Michelle (aka "Mickey"), is in the process of relocating here and is renting an apartment downtown with her girlfriend, Raygan.

This was a recent development and I met them for the first time about a week ago when the four of us went out to dinner downtown. Mickey is almost as tall as Andrea -- a little skinnier but still muscular. Both times I have seen her, she has worn sleeveless tops and, baby, that girl has some delicious biceps. She also has big blue eyes, a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks, and hair almost as wild as Mona's, but hers is dark brown.

Raygan is a little thing, shorter than me, but otherwise we are pretty similar physically. In the Official Classification of Lesbian Body Types, we are both in the Cute Little Blonde category. Some people would also categorize us both as Cheerleader Prom Queen Type, but that's incorrect because I was neither of those things while she was both. And she still has that cheerleader cheerfulness. No matter what we are discussing, she sounds like she's recruiting you to join the Pep Club. And I don't mean that as an insult because I actually find it very appealing. The world would be a better place if more people had her enthusiasm and positive outlook on life. Although Mickey is more my type physically, Raygan gets oodles of extra hotness points for having been an Actual Cheerleader, while I was That Crazy Girl Who Got Suspended.

So this weekend was the first time they came to our house, and of course Mona had brought up the subject of my nudism during our dinner date so they knew I would be naked when they came over. The other guests included Andrea, Dana and four other sports pals of Mona's -- two of whom are straight chicks who brought along their dudes. I'm okay with having a few guys in the group, but I prefer there not be too many at one time.

In fairness to these gentlemen, I have always found them to be well behaved. They do a little polite ogling, but I don't mind that because heck, I do want SOME attention. And I have to also acknowledge that in my experience, a new girl visitor is more likely to get a little handsy than a dude -- as Raygan did a bit on this occasion. Not that I am complaining because I really like her and was not at all bothered by her bubbly enthusiasm for my lifestyle choice. And technically she wasn't "handsy," but just tended to brush her body against mine. I hate it when guys do that (usually in an elevator or a bar where they pretend there is not enough room for their big manly selves). I am WAY more tolerant when the same stunt is pulled by a frilly little blonde girl and I am naked in my kitchen and she is wearing a teeny dress that exposes a lot of skin and her bare arm "accidentally" grazes my breast as she is reaching for the bottle of wine and she is blushing and giggly and a little drunk. Yes, I confess to having a double standard in these matters.

But anyways we all had a good time. We watched two games, and for the first one I was watching with everyone else because it was a women's game. I lost interest when the men's game came on and retreated to the kitchen with Dana, Raygan and a couple other chicks where we drank wine and danced and I occasionally got my boob bonked. I made sure to keep the beer and food flowing to the other room and now and then I had to dodge around Mona to keep her from getting gropey in front of company, but sometimes (on purpose) I was not quick enough and she would pull me onto her lap, cop a good feel and i would squeal and wiggle out of her arms (but not too fast) and everyone else would get a big kick out of it and tease me until I blushed and felt all tingly, so, I mean, that's not a bad party even if there IS men's basketball involved.

* * * * *

March 20

Last month I wrote about our artists group electing Jayne president and me secretary of the group's new official organization. Jayne and her vice president -- a retired dude who makes dulcimers -- have been negotiating with the town officials and came up with a pretty reasonable compromise (which I will not detail here).

Our board was scheduled to meet again today at Jayne's house, and I had spent the past several days fretting over whether I should perhaps wear clothing this time.

I should mention that I have recently been at the lower end of my bipolar cycle, and so I was not feeling as confident about myself as I sometimes do. Had I been at a higher place in my cycle, I wouldn't have been struggling with this question at all because heck, I'd been naked the first time, and everyone seemed fine with it.

Yes, I now argued with myself, but that had been accidental. I had just stopped by to see Jayne and events played out the way they did. Had I known we were going to have that kind of gathering and that I would be officially elected secretary of the organization, I would not have done that naked.

But now for the second meeting, I told myself, I no longer had that excuse, and it just seemed like the proper thing to do when serving on the board of an organization was to dress like a normal person.

Naturally, I consulted with Jayne and Mona and several others and all of them seemed surprised I was bothering to ask the question. I pestered Mona with this dilemma so much she refused to discuss it any further and just said "it's up to you," but her exasperated sigh while saying those words conveyed her real message which was: "obviously, you should go nude, which is what everyone expects and wants you to do, and what YOU want to do, and what I TOLD you to do the first nine times you asked, yet here you are asking me for the 10th time, and you won't take my advice anyway, so do whatever the fuck your want and leave me out of it." Mona is able to express a lot of meaning when she sighs.

So today was the day, and Mona fled to work so she wouldn't have to listen to me talk about it anymore. I was mulling a new idea: I could wear a dress, but drive instead of walk, and I could mention that I had to run an errand right after the meeting (which didn't have to be a lie if I thought up an errand to go on). If people seemed really disappointed that I was not naked (the outcome I hoped for), I could just whip off the dress, but if they seemed relieved that I had come clothed then I would know that was the right decision.

As the meeting time approached and it was time for me to get ready, I took my shower and did all my usual things leading up to putting on the dress, but as I reached for it I noticed out the window that it was snowing. And not just any kind of snow, but those big, fat, wet flakes that come down when the temperature is just barely cold enough to snow.

My dress remained on the bathroom hook as I hurried downstairs and opened the front door to get a better look. I follow the local weather forecast and knew a winter storm was approaching, but all the predictions said it would pass us to the north. They had been wrong.

Forgetting about my dress or even that it existed, I stepped into my tall boots and left the house without even a hat, and started down the driveway. There was no wind but only silence as giant snowflakes floated down from the heavens and touched my skin. I skipped and danced down the driveway in the fast-accumulating snow, sometimes turning my face up to the sky and holding out my arms and nearly falling down as I twirled on the slippery, sloping ground.

I sometimes visualize my bipolar cycle like the face of a clock with noon as full mania and six as my lowest point. It normally takes days for five "minutes" to click by, but that can speed up with the right external stimuli. I had been between seven and eight when I got out of the shower and now I was clicking up nearly to ten.

As I neared Jayne's house, I saw people gathered in the windows watching me approach, but that made me self-conscious so I did my best to look like a dignified officeholder prepared to conduct important business as I strode purposefully towards the house.

My entrance from Jayne's snowy back porch to her warm kitchen was greeted with much cheering, whooping and applause. As I paused on the little entrance rug, stepping out of my boots, I looked around at all the beaming faces and my heart was filled with joy because I have been blessed with so many good friends who don't seem to mind that I am crazy.

I could feel the weight of wet snow in my hair and it started falling in blobs onto my shoulders and breasts, and then sliding down my body to my now bare feet. On the excuse of dislodging the rest of it, I put both hands in my hair, knowing of course that I was also putting my shiny wet boobs on display. Everyone was filled with questions along the theme of "but aren't you cold?" as I did a really thorough job of shaking the water out of my hair, my boobs bouncing along to the movement, as more water trickled down my body. My "clock" ticked closer to eleven and my feeling of joy was now blended with arousal.

Jayne knew better than to offer me something to dry off with, but some well-meaning soul handed me one of the little kitchen towels -- which I used sparingly, on my face and the top of my head before abandoning it so most of my skin was still wet.

We all took our places at the table, Jayne called the meeting to order and gave her report. I dutifully wrote down who made motions, who seconded, and what was passed in the official Secretary's log book Jayne had provided. It wasn't a very long meeting because everyone had become concerned about getting on the road before the snow got worse.

After everyone else left, Jayne teased me about that moment when I first arrived because she can read my mind and knew it had become an erotic experience for me. I never let on when I feel aroused in a group and just continue doing normal things, but Jayne can tell. Then we saw Mona's four-wheel-drive SUV go through the gate and effortlessly plow its way up the snowy driveway. I kissed Jayne goodbye and was outside again in the heavily falling snow, hiking in Mona's tire rut up the hill.

* * * * *

My mom called this morning and Grandma is getting worse. I don't think I've written about this, but my grandmother (my mother's mother) has been in failing health lately. Just in the past few months she seems to be getting old quickly. She used to be so active and now she is tired all the time and just isn't the same person. It's scary.

She's been to the doctor and they keep adjusting her thyroid medicine and her blood pressure medicine, but she just keeps getting worse. I'm thinking I might take a drive out there and stay at my mom's house for a while and spend some time with grandma. She still lives in the same little house where she has always been and I know she'd hate to give that up. Mom would, of course, take her in to live with her and Anna, there's plenty of room now that all us kids are long since gone.

But I'm worried about her and have been praying for her. Whenever someone I know is facing troubles, I pray for them. However I do not believe in the usual concept of prayer -- groveling and supplicating to an all-powerful deity who CAN help us and who MIGHT help us, but who frequently declines to do so because helping us in our time of suffering just doesn't fit in with His Plan -- which in the entire 788,000-word Bible He cannot spare a few hundred words to explain.

Yet I do believe, or aspire to believe, that there may be something else that happens when we pray.