Two French couples, in stylish T-shirts and shorts, are standing staring on the edge of the nude beach. They've obviously been taking in the sights of Brighton and now they're confronted by another sight - me, like a sweaty starfish, legs akimbo as I catch an all-over tan.
Do I slam my thighs together like a vapid virgin? Never, I spread them wider, giving my audience an even better view of one of Brighton's lesser known lanes - take that you cheese-eating, voyeur monkeys!
It was packed on the beach. I expect, like me, most people thought such stunning days were going to get rarer. As usual, the sun-lovers were predominately gay males. Why-oh-why I wonder, did so many of the hunkier homos keep their Speedos on whilst so many of the elderly ones unfortunately didn't? I'm not a cock expert but I've seen more attractive things pickled in jars.
There were a few women, several on their own and some in couples - I was there with a friend. Most were cool and relaxed and enjoying the feeling of sun and air on your body but some displayed some bizarre Brit prudishness. They went to extraordinary lengths to maintain cunny concealment. One had a scarf artfully tied around the naughty area. Another woman had a thin strand of her thong carefully positioned between her thighs. Another sunbathed naked but immediately slipped her knickers on to take a walk. Two young girls with great bodies settled down near us. One looked Brazilian or something and cheerfully stripped off completely but the other kept her pants on. Why did all these women worry when their bits wouldn't bother at least 99% of the beach.
However the last girl's pants had 'Make me purr' written across them so I could forgive her anything. So ends the Brighton Nudes Update.
Love and no white bits. Sadie