Naked Holiday

A writer with a publisher’s deadline and a friend’s strange invitation in his pocket goes hunting for a quiet country retreat where he can finish his long-overdue novel. What he finds instead is a sun-bleached nudist colony tucked into the woods, full of bronzed strangers who have left their clothes, and most of their inhibitions, at the gate.

At first the experience feels harmless, even pure: square dances under the stars, lazy mornings at the mess hall, a beautiful blonde who smiles at him over the breakfast tables. But the longer he stays, the more he senses something restless humming beneath all that wholesome sunlight. A drunkard with hungry eyes is watching the women too closely, and the colony’s rules of decency are thinner than the cabin walls.

When civilization finally splits open at the seams, the writer learns that a man stripped to the skin still carries every primitive urge he was born with, and a fight without clothes is the oldest kind of all.