“Let’s get naked,” he’d often say, while sheepishly grinning at me and tugging at the edge of my pants.
I’d giggle and kiss him again, but my buttons and zippers remained closed, at least for a while.
Alex, my college boyfriend was trying very hard to get naked with me, but being Catholic and a goody-two-shoes at the time, I was resisting his advances as best I could. I claimed I was going to wait until marriage, but that didn’t last long…All it took was this very handsome (and persistent!) boyfriend, the summer blackout of 2003 (so I couldn’t go home when I worked at a job in Queens and he lived nearby), some red wine and candlelight and an introduction to Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond.
I finally got naked. And surprisingly to myself, I did not feel terrible about it or think that I was going to go straight to hell. So I kept getting naked… with Alex until we broke up and then with other men, and sometimes women, and sometimes men and women at the same time.
Later I’d get naked at sex parties, in front of dozens of people. I would fuck while many of them (or at least the ones that weren’t engaged in their own trysts) were watching.
And, yet, there are so many different ways to get naked. Some people that I had sex with on numerous occasions still didn’t know me at all. Others, who never saw me literally naked, knew the inner workings of my mind and psyche so well that whenever I was with them, I felt like they could see straight through me. There was no need to put on airs or pretenses with these people, they knew me as I was and have always been.
Personally, I like to strip down the minds of the people I find fascinating.
Let’s get naked?