March 12, 2004
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the picture… ( i used to have my markered up naked picture as the profile)
i love my picture. it reminds me of some of the happiest moments of young life. you see, I went to wesleyan university. no, not wellesly, wesleyan, in connecticut. this, my loyal readers, is a very liberal minded institution, and every semester, the quirky crunchy art house throws a naked party. this is a party i did not attend, ever, except in my final days, the last semester in which i would grace the campus.
at the time, i had a part in a play which subtly asked nudity, but the director told me i only had to go to my undies, but i new that i should be naked, so in the last performance, i went balls out, jingling, feeling the cool air of freedom. nakedness slowly leaked into my ken, the excitment of the vulnerability and exhibitionism sparking the pleasure most nudists feel.
and when a cast member talked about always wanting to go to a naked party, i was on that like a hobo on a ham sanwhich (yes i stole that from the buddy lee commercial). we met at my apartment and went to art house only to find it was the wrong day. when we met at the right day, he brought along a few more kids, one of them this cute ass dancer chick i had hooked up with before (more on her later, probably), which was great becuase i now knew a hot girl going in to it. so we walked in, and bam, everyone is naked, and you with clothes, feel weird. and you walk into a declothing room, one for girls and one for guys, and take it all off, and head into the party, trying not to stare. after a while, it just feels normal, but there is a strange sense of… correctness, like this is the way its suppossed to be, all of us running around undressed, unashamed of what we are or have. it breeds a type of happiness i have not felt since.
well, it was quite a night, one room was filled with washable markers so you could paint on yourself or on others. room two had the band, room three had paper and pencils and a modelling stage so you could figure draw or be drawn. guys had warned me that it would probably be a sausage party, but it was almost fifty fifty.
highlights included watching this hot lesbian couple grind it on the dance floor, flirting with this cute frosh girl who i could feel was just dying for some intimacy (i was going out with someone at the time so i didn’t try to prove my theory), and a very embarassing story which turned into my favorite tale to tell:knowing the cute dancer girl, adria, we drew on each other with markers. now, a danger for boys at naked parties is sporting the inadvertent wood, but that is hard to come by, let me assure you. its a bit drafty and just looking at the exposed flesh is not that sexual. but then i began drawing, and feeling her cool soft skin, and being able to see her delicious perky breasts, a nice full B, shapely, and that lucious black triangle of hair peeking out between her legs while sliding my had down her back as i doodled whatever it was, blood began to flow. sensing old sergio (yes i named him and i think it fits well) going into half mast, i quickly finished my drawing and tried to relax, deep breathing, turning into a corner, away from the gorgeuos adria. soon enough, the excitement died down, and i rejoined the party relaxed, not at attention. i kept schmoozing, trying to draw on girls, getting drawn on. a whole lot of fun, feeling at one with nature in this primitive state, when i happened to look down, and low and behold, i was leaking a nice little drop of precum, glistening on my tip. oh the wonders of the human body. of course, i was naked, so i had nothing to wipe it off with, and scurrying to the bathroom, i wondered how many people caught the little slip, and what they thought.
besides that, the party rocked, and when it ended, a few of us were so enthralled by our freed state, we streaked across campus, hitting libraries and dorms in a rush of liberty. when i arrived back at my then girlfriends place, at the end of the night, i had her snap a picture of me to remember that pinnaclle of happiness, and the empirical evidence still makes me smile to this day.
