The Naked Runners Club

It started quite innocently. The morning jog through the fields down to the river, a quick dip, then a gentle jog back. Sally loved the sense of freedom she got from being up so early, before anyone was even thinking about breakfast.
One morning, she wondered what it would be like to feel the dew between her toes. She ran back home carrying her trainers. After that, she found it easy enough to run barefoot over the grass.
She jogged with a swimsuit beneath her shorts, but it was a bit of a chore carrying a towel to dry herself off with after her swim. She started leaving the towel at home, drying her body with her T shirt. The T-shirt was too wet to put back on, so she carried it, enjoying the feel of the breeze on her skin. One morning, she forgot to put the swimsuit on. There was no one around, so she skinny-dipped. T shirt and shorts were soaking wet, so Sally trailed them behind her as she sprinted carefully home, sure no one was watching her.
It became a habit. The sense of freedom when running completely naked was addictive.
So was the sight of her. Joe had always been an early riser. All that summer, he never missed seeing Sally in all her glory.
One day, he joined her. Naked. Sally smiled and took his hand. And so the Naked Runners Club was born.
Me too. Nine months later.