This is a completely true story without any exaggerations or embellishments. And I guess the only reason I am sharing it here is, today I drove along the interstate, right past the spot where this happened some years back. I have told it to a few friends and ex-lovers who always get a kick out of the story. And it does not have any information that could identify me, so why the heck not? I have changed some minor details for what they call "plausible deniability", just in case.

Anyway, most of you must have read my story Naked Delhi Daredevilry. Without going into too much personal detail, let me say that the story has a small autobiographical element to it. I have a thing for taking risks related to being naked outdoors. There are some personal episodes related to that obsession of mine, and its repercussions which will go to the grave with me. But this episode is, well, fairly benign.

A few years ago, I was in the United States on one of my many work-related trips. The month was December. I had a bunch of meetings to attend all over the midwest and the north-east so to save my company money, I had decided to rent a car and drive from meeting to meeting over the course of two weeks. On that day, I had finished a meeting in Columbus, Ohio and was on my way to Pittsburgh, where the next meeting was. The meeting in Columbus had gone very well, so I was in high spirits. And the high spirits might have made me foolhardy.

Like I said, the month was December. The month when it gets really cold in that part of the country. And a month when the amount of snowfall really varies from year to year. That wasn't exactly a blizzard-filled December like this last one (2009) was, but there was enough snow to make everything look white. People were talking of a possible white Christmas. It was the middle of the afternoon and about an hour out of Columbus, I had stopped at a tiny diner for a filling late lunch and taken a big cup of coffee to drink while I was driving. The food was yummy, the coffee was perfectly brewed, and I was generally in a great mood, singing along to oldies on the radio as I drove east along I-70.

And then it started snowing. Not a blizzard, but some serious snowfall. The roads were perfectly clean, thanks to the efficient salt-trucks that keep plying on the interstates in winter. There was very little traffic that day. So the driving conditions weren't hazardous and even with very little experience of driving in the snow, I felt no discomfort going at 70 mph.

The countryside, already covered with snow, looked beautiful, with only the odd house sticking out. The heavy snowfall made it all look even prettier. The snowflakes crashed against my windshield and were harmless swept away by my wipers. And even as I drove, I loved how amazingly gorgeous everything looked. I felt like I was inside one of those small glass things that you shake and it feels like it's snowing inside. What are those things called? Snow globes? Yeah, I felt like I was inside a snow globe.

And then I hit a stretch where there were no more houses or farms. Just woods. Tall naked snow-sprayed trees on both sides of the freeway. And a bee that had been buzzing in my bonnet since the start of this December roadtrip, reappeared. And it started playing with my head, tempting me.

You see, for a while now, I had wondered how it would feel to be naked outdoors in snow. How the snow would feel against my naked body. How my body would react to the cold. How would it feel to have a snowflake melt on my nipples? On my butt? And maybe other places? Obviously, my stay in the US was always work-related so I never got a remotely appropriate opportunity to try it out. Until now. The voice in my head kept saying - go ahead. Pull over. Walk into the wood. Get naked. And live out the fantasy.

And my high spirits, combined with the indescribable satisfaction from a hearty meal, half a liter of coffee, and the upbeat oldies music made me think - yeah, what the heck? I have taken worse risks before. This is pretty safe.

So I waited until there were no vehicle before or after me as far as the eye could see. And then slowed my car down, and pulled over on the shoulder of the road. I took the coffee cup and downed it all down my throat. Then looked in the rear-view mirror and waiter for the approaching cars and trucks to pass by. And then grabbed my thick woolen overcoat, my cap, and my gloves, my cellphone, my keys, and got out of the car. Locked the car, put on all the woolens, and started walking towards the treeline.

The snow on the ground was about 6 inches thick, so I was glad I was wearing my heavy boots. A few friends, veterans of midwestern winters, had made fun of me when i bought those boots. You only need such heavy boots if you go skiing, they said. In the cities, the curbs are always cleaned, and using these boots would be an overkill they said. But as I trudged along the snow-covered countryside and past the tall naked trees, I commended myself for being over-cautious.

I walked inwards carefully, trying to make sure I wouldn't slip. But there was really no reason to worry, with those boots on. After a while, I stopped focusing on my walking and started focusing on the heavy snow which was spraying against my face. It felt so wonderful. I am a Bombay girl at heart and nothing will compare to the sheer pleasure of getting soaked in the first rainshower in June. But this was pretty nice too. Snow, despite being made up of water, is dry, and even though it moistens you wherever it touches, it still leaves you unsoaked.

After about ten minutes of walking, I was a little breathless. Walking in heavy snow, with heavy boots, can be a bit tiring. I stopped and looked around. I was far enough from the freeway that I couldn't see it. All around me were naked trees and white snow. And a few feet away, I spotted a thicket of small evergreen shrubs, which stood out like a light-green oasis in the middle of all the white.

I also realized that I was feeling a bit warm, and my palms were a little sweaty. Maybe because of the mild workout of walking in the snow, and my excitement mixed with nervousness. I took off my gloves and put them in the pocket of my overcoat. I then stretched my bare palm forward and felt the heavily falling snowflakes (well not that heavy, because the trees although naked, did stop some of it from hitting me) hit my palm and melt. I felt like a little girl experiencing snow for the first time.

Now then, I said to myself. Time to go through with "the project". The shrubs seemed like a good place to act as my clothes-rack. I walked over to it, took my coat off, and put it on the shrub. Then I took off my cap and put it on top of the coat. Then I looked around carefully to make sure absolutely no one was around and took off my sweater, which I was wearing over a button down shirt. I wasn't too surprised when i did not feel too cold without my sweater. It's a phenomenon many of you who grew up in the tropics like me, but visited temperate regions later in life, must also be surprised by. In the winter, especially early on like December, when it is actually snowing, it does not really feel as cold as when it is not snowing. Of course, if there is wind accompanying the snow, yeah, it's biting cold.

But that day, there was no wind. Just snow. And it didn't feel as cold. I don't know the exact physics behind it. Maybe the clouds enclose the land and trap in the heat, or some such bull. Plus there is a lot of residual body heat, so it takes time to really feel cold. Whatever. I'm not sure. All I know is, although it was snowing, so it must have been 0 celsius, to me it felt like it was about 10 celsius. I scanned my surroundings again, and took off my shirt. Another scan and off came the bra, leaving me topless.

And then I stood there, leaving back slightly as the snowflakes hit me chest and boobs. Oh yes, it did feel magical, sending tiny shivers all over my body with every snowflake hitting my body and melting. I grabbed my boobs (which are, well, big!) and sort of bent them upwards, and a few flakes would, now and then hit my nipples, making me feel even more tingly. This was fun! I stood like that, boobs in my hand, torso arched backwards, letting the snow hit my boobs. And I started feeling a little colder than I had been. Better hurry up with the rest of it, I thought.

I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, and putting my thumbs inside my panties, lowered both of them down together. I tried to get my jeans off my leg. But then, problem. My heavy boots seemed like too snug a fit with the jeans' legs. The jeans wouldn't just slide off. They needed some coaxing. I put my left hand on top of the coat-covered shrub, bent my left leg in the knee and raised my ankle to I could pull the jeans off. In that awkward posture, I chuckled at how I would look to someone walking by - bare-ass naked, contorting her body to get the jeans off. It was a bit of a struggle, but I finally got them off and deposited them on the shrub.

And there I stood, completely naked in falling snow, with only my boots on. I was feeling chillier, so I decided to get on with it before I started feeling well and truly cold. Fully naked, I walked deeper into the woods, for a couple of more minutes, until I came to a small clearing. Just what I wanted. I stepped into it, for my body to enjoy the showering snowflakes, unhindered by trees. The flakes hit my hair, my face, my shoulders, and occasionally my boobs, back, and my butt. But as someone who has walked around naked in a windless snowfall will tell you, my lower body wasn't getting much of it.

So I got down on my hands and knees, wincing as my knees and fingers sank into the cold snow. The snow hit my back and my ass. But I gotta tell ya, that part, kinda disappointing. Snow on the ass, not much fun. My hands and knees were feeling cold so I got up and stood straight. There was still snow stuck to my hands.