Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been ages

It’s apparently been five months since I’ve posted to this blog and – yep, it definitely feels like that long. A lot has happened, not gonna lie. I suppose I’ll have to work my way through it as time goes by. I keep telling myself ‘tonight’s the night I’m going to go back to writing’ and every night I just end up wrecked from work and crashed out on the couch watching TV or reading (I’m re-reading It at the moment). Energy levels have not been conducive to writing although the thought is there – not that that helps!

So, what’s happened?

In chronological order:

  • I’ve developed a thing for latex. I bought a black latex pencil skirt before we went on holiday and I loved how it felt (and looked – my ass looks fucking incredible in it, not going to lie) so much, I bought another skirt the other week (a blue pencil one with a full length zip up the back) as well as a black lace up corset. I had plans to buy a full latex outfit – matching skirt and top – to wear at a NY party we were going to throw but we’ve canned that idea so I’m reconsidering buying the outfit (turns out latex isn’t cheap – but goddamn, it looks good)
  • We had a week-long fling with a friend we met up with in Barcelona. She’s in an open marriage, which adds an interesting element, but we haven’t seen her since we got back to Sydney (she travels a lot and lives on the South Coast). I think she’s the first person I’ve see Jared really quite like and develop a connection with so that has been interesting for me (and also for him, no doubt)
  • We had a foursome and a fivesome that both included other MEN (the foursome was two girls, two guys and the fivesome had an extra girl). Anyone who has been reading (or, more to the point, anyone who actually remembers what I used to write about) knows that our ‘arrangement’ was always open to other girls but never guys, as Jared wasn’t comfortable with me being with another man and isn’t actually into guys himself.

    Well. That has changed (not the into guys bit, sadly). We’d spoken about it a lot and I think the fact that our Barcelona fling is in an open marriage with someone he knows and respects gave him a bit of a different perspective on things. I think it definitely helped that the guys were of absolutely no ‘threat’ to him but still, it happened and there have been no negative consequences from it for us.

    For me, I wasn’t particularly attracted to either guy but was more interested in having the experience. Both to see how Jared would react seeing me with another guy and also my reaction – how would I feel during and after sleeping with another man? These being the first men that I’ve slept with, besides Jared, in nearly 12 years. If I’m perfectly honest (as I like to be here), the foursome was ok. The sex with the other guy was average but the group interaction was pretty hot. The fivesome – I was not into the guy at all. I didn’t feel pressured at the time but, after the fact, I have felt quite grossed out by it. Not that anything was actually gross about it – just that I don’t find him attractive and the thought of him touching me is highly repulsive. His girlfriend is super hot though and the sex Jared had with the other girl (the third girl) was pretty intense, if a bit distracting for us other participants (the girl was quite noisy – and a really aggressive kisser – but maybe that wouldn’t have bothered me so much if I was more into what I was doing).

    All in all, I think it was good to do but, if we ever do it again, I will definitely be demanding that the guy is someone I’m into otherwise it’s not on. I just can’t get into sex with someone I’m not attracted to – whether that’s physically or mentally, and in this case, I had neither

  • I bought a new sex toy, something that’s supposed to work for the g-spot (yes, I’m still chasing that elusive g-spot orgasm). I’ve only tried it once so far and it was fun but Jared was the “driver” and I think I need to spend some time alone with it so I don’t feel rushed or under pressure. When this is going to happen, I do not know as every time I think to use it, it’s run out of charge so I have to charge it but by the time it’s charged my playtime window has passed *sigh* First world problems
  • A girl we used to see back in the day (I’d have to go searching for her code name, I can’t remember it), and also 1/4 of the foursome we had, has since started working at one of Jared’s bars, which has lead to a flurry of fantasy activity on my part (you may or may not recall my very strong cuckquean tendencies). She has a boyfriend now (yes, the other 1/4 of the foursome) but regardless my mind does tend to wander with thoughts of secret trysts in bathrooms, basements and tiny management offices while I work diligently upstairs, totally unaware of what my husband and her are up to mere metres away. As I said, the flurry of fantasy activity is well underway.

That’s it for the moment. I will do my best to get back to a regular schedule. I really want to start my erotic fiction again. As a teaser, here’s something I wrote when I first started posting erotic stories on here back in 2015 (fuck, that sounds so long ago now!) and it just so happens in ties in relatively well with my ‘flurry of fantasies’ mentioned above. I present to you:

I haven’t written anything erotic for a long time but here goes…

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The appeal of debasement 


Image credit: Splooshworld

As someone who considers herself a fairly strong woman who very rarely takes any kind of shit, I’m frequently surprised by my desire to be sexually debased. I know many people reading this will be able to explain why this may be and I understand it myself – what we desire in “life” and in sex are very different – and yet still the question persists… whhhhyyyy? As a victim of sexual assault, why would I be drawn to encounters of roughness, humiliation and power play? Why would I essentially want to disregard an element of my humanness at such a vulnerable moment?

If I put on my rational hat, I’d probably think it has something to do with being able to take back some measure of control or rewrite an unpleasant situation. It makes a lot of sense when you consider it that way. Yet it surprises me that things that happened so long ago could still be in play when it comes to my desires. Or is it that they became intrinsically linked to my desires when they occurred? Probably a bit of both. Also, I think that, as someone whose experimented a lot and watched a lot of porn, maybe I’m desensitised and looking for something that makes me feel more. Not that sex without intimidation, humiliation, etc. is boring… Hmmmm, I actually don’t know where I’m going with this line of thinking. 

When I watch porn, I vary to extremes; either I like the nicely shot stuff with the attractive people and the respectful looking sex or I like when the girl is treated like a mostly inanimate plaything, usually with more than one guy. I don’t want her to be crying or anything like that but I’m ok with some visual discomfort and rough housing. The men view her as something attractive to play with. If she feels pleasure it’s purely incidental, a by-product of their actions or maybe something they instigate for their amusement but never the main focus. What matters is what they take from her and the visible and audible pleasure they get from using her body. 


Image credit: Storify

For myself, I haven’t really explored how far down the rabbithole I’m willing to go. Thoughts of being owned, commanded, verbally debased, physically overpowered and shared at will are all highly arousing. When I read about it, I want to experience it for myself – but always in submission to a man. Gender plays a huge role in it for me; somehow it’s not as appealing to be dominated by a woman. The element of power, strength and danger seem to fall away even as I know I could be just as easily be overpowered and controlled by a woman. Who do I think I am?! I’m tiny, a ten year old child could probably overpower me! A man with a female accomplice is gettting back on track but not a woman on her own. It’s fucked, I know, but the crotch wants what the crotch wants (crude as it is). There’s actually a small part of me that’s attracted to dominating another woman but it’s definitely not as defined as the part that wants to submit – to be debased, humiliated, controlled, belittled, manipulated, used. Whatever word you prefer, it amounts to this: to be made to not feel like a person in any sexual sense of the word, to be just a plaything, an object someone can treat as they will and for their own pleasure. 


Image credit: Polyvore 

But then again, how many of our fantasties turn out to be less than stellar once realised? I could think I want it and then realise it’s way too confronting. Who knows? The mind is a fickle thing. 

First holiday post (sorry, it’s not really about the holiday)

I’m writing this while on the train from Paris to Cognac. I’ve now been on holiday for a week and a day and this is the first time I’ve found time to write. Actually, that’s not a 100% true. I’ve had time to write but I’ve used that time to work as I’m not totally free of my work commitments while on this grand adventure of ours. Just under eight weeks left of Eurotripping spectacularness. 

I’ve been logging on each day to review event proposals/quotes and respond to any emails our Event Manager can’t handle on her own (or has questions about). Unfortunately, one week into our holiday, our Events Manager resigned due to a family emergency. Luckily, she’s offered to stay on and work remotely from Colombia until I get back but the dream of a smooth transition back to work, with someone competent working alongside me, has been shattered. I’m going back to where I was seven weeks ago; interviews, recruitment, training – all back to square one. I’ve stressed myself out about it for the last few days. 

When I worked as a PA, I never had this much responsibility. Well, I had responsibilities but it was more in the background, making sure things ran smoothly. Even when I managed a film studio, I was in charge of people and things but it was really just making sure the client experience was good and that we delivered on time and on budget, managing contractors, team mates, etc. but somehow it felt different. With my current job, I’m accountable for revenue. I have sales targets and I’m privy to the business targets and revenue. I see when a target is missed, if staff hours are cut because of a quiet night and I feel keenly the loss of revenue if someone fucks up an event. 

As the wife of the owner of multiple businesses, I would often get told about this anyway but being a paid member of the team shifts some of the responsibility onto my shoulders. It’s a heavy burden and one that often fills me with fear as I want to do well and I push myself very hard. Now I’m not saying these businesses are struggling, more just that now I have a lot more insight into how businesses run and it’s quite scary. There are so many moving parts and, if one part doesn’t know what the fuck it’s doing or isn’t engaged or committed, every part suffers. 

My trust issues are also sorely tested. In general, I have control issues. There I’ve said it; I don’t trust people to do as good a job as I would. I don’t trust them to understand it all and to work as hard as I do and not fuck it up. Of course, I’m not perfect and I definitely make mistakes but I also push myself very, very hard not to make them more than once. I also fear that if I (or my husband, let’s be honest, he’s as bad, possibly worse than me) push them too hard, they’ll quit. I fear this every fucking day. It’s terrifying. 

Even after saying all this, I’m still loving my job. I like the autonomy. I like being part of something bigger than me. I like being part of such a great team. I don’t mind working long hours because, being the wife of one of the owners, I can directly see how the business will benefit our future. Not that I’ve ever slacked off at previous roles but things change when you’re working for a business you have an actual stake in. 

I’m going to try and not let the stress of what’s waiting for me at home affect the rest of my holiday. God, what an empty sentence. Of course it’s going to affect me. What I’m going to do is try and not let it spread into a nameless dread of the work hours that will surely ensue once I return. But that’s eight weeks away. Right now I need to focus on sun and wine and cocktails and eating all the food. 

Natalie, don’t stress about something you can’t control right now. 

*sigh*

Can we talk about men in women’s clothing for a second?

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Image credit: Highlight Hollywood

I came to a rather shocking (for me) realisation while watching American Horror Story – Hotel last night. Men in ‘women’s’ clothes are fucking sexy! Now, this was all before I woke up to the shitstorm that is the newest Trump scandal (him supposedly saying he likes the women in his team to ‘dress like women’ and the internet responding with images of women wearing any type of damn clothing they please with the hashtag #dresslikeawoman). But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to write about. In fact, it’s killing my buzz just talking about it.

What I did want to talk about is how fucking hot Denis O’Hare looks in AHS Hotel. He’s not normally what I’d go for but there’s something about how confident his character is sashaying around the hotel, doling out sassy words of wisdom to the other characters. He just owns it, outlandish eye makeup and all (don’t get me started on Lady Gaga’s epic wardrobe, holy shit!). But yes, he nails it and I found myself eye him off with something more than just appreciation for his acting skills. That being said, I liked him in True Blood as well. He played a very charismatic character then too. But I didn’t like him so much in the Freak Show season of AHS so it’s not like I’m always lusting after him.

I suppose this isn’t a totally new realisation. In the past, I’ve found guys attractive when they turn up to costume parties dressed as women. I think it’s a confidence thing. It’s awesome to see a guy all kitted up in women’s clothing – heels to boot! Pun intended – and just reveling in it. But in most cases, those guys aren’t trying to be sexy. They’re doing it for fun, to make people laugh, to be wearing the most interesting outfit at a party and maybe get laid. It gets me every time but this is different.

When Liz Taylor (O’Hare) is cutting around in his hotel room is his wife’s silky slip and fur coat, he’s doing it for him. Or should I say, she’s doing it for her. Liz believes she’s a woman on the inside and wearing women’s clothes feels more natural than what society has deemed acceptable for who she is on the outside. When the Countess (Gaga) gives Liz a makeover and she struts her way down to the ice machine (the first time she’s been out in public in this type of clothing), I felt all the feelings as I watched how scared she was at first and then how happy she became when she got to the ice machine and was like, “Yes! I am woman, hear me roar!” Why shouldn’t she be able to dress however she wants? And for that matter, why shouldn’t a man, who believes he’s a man inside and out, also be able to wear ‘women’s’ clothing? Why do we even have men’s and women’s clothing?!? It’s just fabric. Who gives a fuck?!

But I’m getting off track. This isn’t meant to be a political/gender diatribe. I was talking about how sexy it is to see a man’s body in women’s clothing. Maybe it’s because it’s taboo and I do love taboo. Or maybe it’s the contrast of seeing a muscular, hairy body draped in soft, silky fabric. Maybe it’s purely the confidence it takes to wear something society says isn’t for you and do it with a fuck-off attitude. I don’t know what it is but that’s definitely part of it. It’s not just a ‘oh he’s funny, he’s dressed as a girl for his buck’s party’ thing. Although, that’s sometimes sexy too. What it mostly is is having the confidence to be who you are out in the world (or in the privacy of your own home) unapologetically dressed as you please. I wouldn’t find it attractive if someone dressed that way to please me but I would find it hot as shit if they dressed that way for themselves and didn’t give a fuck what I thought.

So there you have it. I’ve added men in women’s clothing to my list of things that turn me on. It’s come as a little bit of a surprise to me but hey, you like what you like!

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Image credit: Movie News Guide

 

Bad dates and updates

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Not quite the right dynamic but you get the picture. Image credit: Evan Marc Katz

We had a few dates with a girl recently. I couldn’t really figure out if I was into her, which in hindsight should have been a clear indication that I wasn’t. Anyway, she was older than both of us, which isn’t a problem at all, but for some reason she felt a lot younger in the sense that she seemed a bit immature and kind of annoying, like a teenager might be. Maybe it was her constant chatter or maybe it was the way she seemed compelled to prove she was different and interesting. I expressed my concerns to Jared just before our third date but he said to not overthink things and to give her the benefit of the doubt. I thought – ok, Nat, you’re tough on people. Give her go.

Third date rolls around and things take a turn for the worst. She only eats vegetables and cottage cheese, which in and of itself is fine, yet she chose a restaurant that didn’t really cater to her diet. I ordered for us and told her to pick some extra stuff if she wanted. She didn’t. But then she said she wasn’t hungry anyway and just wanted to drink. Jared and me are huge foodies. We eat out a lot and love trying new restaurants and, when she announced her food preferences on our second date, I immediately had concerns. I felt like she would eventually feel left out of that part of our lives. Even if she was always happy to just drink, it’s not quite the same as all going out to dinner and enjoying a fabulous meal together.

Part way through the date she demands that we tell her how hot she looks. We oblige. I’m happy to give compliments even if they’ve specifically asked for. She then demands that we pay excessive amounts of attention to her, i.e. she didn’t really like it when we spoke to each other, even as part of the group conversation. I think she must have noticed that things weren’t going well because her chattiness amped up and she then started lightly scraping her nails across my legs. Now, I really don’t like being touched by people I don’t know that well. I’m sure if I was more into her, it would have been fine but I wasn’t so it just made me really uncomfortable.

When we left the restaurant and headed to a nearby bar for a drink, I sat on the seat opposite and left Jared to sit next to her in the hopes that I would be our of reach. I wasn’t and I probably should have said something but I didn’t want to be mean. I’d already pretty much decided this was never going to happen so my goal was just to get out of there without hurting anyone’s feelings. After we’d finished our drinks, we left the bar. I think she thought we were all going back to our place or maybe getting more drinks but, thankfully, Jared swooped in with something about us all “taking it slow” and I guess she got the picture because we haven’t heard from her since (this was Saturday night). This was probably one of the worst dates we’ve been on, which, if I’m going to be honest, it wasn’t really that bad. I mean she wasn’t batshit crazy, she just wasn’t the right fit for us.

As we headed home in the taxi, Jared was very quiet and I was worried that he was upset we weren’t going to sleep with her (he assured me he wasn’t but I think he might have been maybe a tiny bit annoyed). When we’d spoken about the date earlier, he’d been of the mind that we sleep with her anyway because how are we going to know if someone’s a fit without doing so? My thoughts were that if we know she’s not a right fit or aren’t sure that we click, we shouldn’t sleep with her because then it will complicate things. The next morning, Jared told me that she was quite needy and we were right not to sleep with her. He agreed that trying to deal with the fallout afterwards wasn’t worth the brief pleasure of sleeping with someone new. I’m glad he came around to my point of view although I still have my doubts as to whether our styles of dating are totally compatible.

By the way, we did talk about my thoughts on us seeing people separately (a post or two ago) and – well, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I generally consider him a very confident person but, as our conversation progressed, I saw him spiral into a mess of insecurities. It was really quite terrifying and had me fearing for our relationship. Of course, what I’m proposing scares me too but I suppose I have a bit more faith in our relationship. We’re already doing things that challenge my trust and faith in ‘us’ whereas he’s not threatened by women (something I feel means he hasn’t really thought the whole thing through) so nothing we’ve done so far has really put that much strain on our relationship from his perspective. Anyway, he wants to talk to a counsellor about his insecurities because he sees how irrational and somewhat sexist they are so we’ll see how that goes. I can’t imagine it will happen anytime soon because it’s not something he really wants to happen (which is fair enough, it’s me that wants to change things) so it will be a very slow process.

On the upside, we’ve taken an interest in this little French chick that one of my friend’s occasionally sees. I suppose he’s kind of polyamorous too – he never sees anyone exclusively (or hasn’t for ages) and doesn’t get attached to anyone or demand they only see him while also being very respectful and not leading people on into thinking he’s offering him more than he is. So we’ll see how we go with seducing her. She’s coming on this boat cruise with us on the 11th so we’ll try our luck then.

Thoughts about swingers clubs (that kind of got a little out of hand)

We’ve gone on a few dates with this girl who told us she’d recently been to a swingers’ club on her own and hooked up with another girl. After telling us the story, she asked if we’d ever been/wanted to go to one. I said I did but Jared isn’t/wasn’t keen.

I actually used to work in one when I was about 18/19. It was a brothel on one side and a swingers’ club on the other, just on Saturday nights, if I remember correctly. I think it was also a strip club some nights too. God, it was so long ago. Anyway, I worked behind the bar, which wasn’t licensed to serve alcohol so the patrons brought their own in and we stored it for them, sold them mixers and mixed their drinks. It was actually a really fun job, if a little slow at times. Especially when everybody disappeared up to the rooms and into the spa baths.

When there was no one around to serve mixers to, it was my job to pick up the empty glassware and bottles and I would find an excuse to wander into the various rooms, ostensibly under the guise of tidying up. Of course, I wouldn’t go into any rooms with closed doors and, if people were ‘busy’, I would just glance at them and move on. I knew enough at the time not to be intrusive. It was one of those clubs that allowed couples and single women only. No single men. Couples would often invite me to join them but I only ever remember seeing a few women I was interested in. I would always say I wasn’t allowed to play but one time I broke and made out with one of the women while I fending off her partner, who I wasn’t interested in. She was beautiful – mixed race or at least brown skinned like me. The specific details are a bit fuzzy 15 years on.

Regardless, this girl bringing up swingers clubs got me interested in them again. And, like a goddamn Xmas miracle, I turned a page in The Ethical Slut and – shazam! – there’s a Public Sex, Group Sex and Orgies chapter. Oh my god, I thought. All my Christmases have come at once. It’s a sign! Of what I’m not sure but I thought I’d at least write about it.

Despite Jared’s reluctance, I would definitely be keen to go to one. I know there are a few in Sydney so it’s not like we don’t have the option one day down the track. Thinking of it, my mind runs wild with the possibilities. You might have guessed that I like to watch, which is what I tell Jared we could stick to if we were to go. We don’t have to participate. In fact, for our first visit, it would probably be better if we just watched then went home (and fucked) and discussed how it made us feel. Then, if the general consensus was that we felt good and it was a turn on, we could go back and see what else eventuated. For me, watching alone is plenty of fun. Seeing another couple or group of people all tangled up in one another, enjoying each other’s bodies, hearing the sounds of sex. Live and not on the internet. It’s part of what makes it so hot for me to see Jared with other women. That voyeuristic element where you’re watching something that’s normally so private and intimate (or, in the case of Jared and other women, that’s traditionally just reserved for me).

Of course, the adventurous part of me would eventually want to get involved in some way. Even just flirting with someone who’s not your regular partner in a sexually charged environment would be exciting and something I would imagine to be so different from going on a date in a normal public place. Flirting in a swingers club where you may or may not be scantily clad (or nude) and with even the slimmest possibility that you might fuck that person – oh my! The naughtiness of it all. The rush of being new and intriguing to that person, of finding out about them, playing that game of body language and eye contact that is most intense between people who have never actually fucked (in my opinion at least – I know it can still happen after you’ve fucked but I don’t think it’s ever quite the same).

I’d want to be able to look over and see Jared deep in conversation with another woman. Giving her his undivided attention as I’ve seen him do so many times with women who’ve taken his fancy. He’s an excellent flirter. Much more aggressive than I am (not in a bad way, just more forward). He makes them feel like they’re the only person in the room, which they pretty much are at that point. He’s very tactile and not afraid to move in for the first kiss. While he’s getting to know her, maybe I’m flirting with her partner and, seeing as we’re all hitting it off, we decide to move to one of the rooms.

The idea of being naked in front of a man that isn’t Jared is a little bit scary and a whole lot exciting. I’d imagine that we’d all end up on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. The girls kissing, each couple kissing, everyone taking turns kissing. In my wildest dreams, the boys would also kiss and, you know what, this is my fantasy so, fuck it, they’re kissing too! Fucking another man with Jared deep inside another woman right next to me would have to be pretty high on my fantasy list.

I’d be able to hear his noises and her noises while also enjoying the attention of another man, feeling a different cock with a different rhythm inside me. I love hearing Jared make other women come. And then hearing him come as well. I think that would probably be enough to send me over the edge – if the guy I was fucking needed any kind of extra assistance, that is.

God. Didn’t this take a sudden turn. I think I need to get back to writing my erotic fiction. Will start brainstorming ideas, which is always the hardest part for me.

Public nudity and body positivity

Tonight I went with a friend to the Art Gallery of New South Wales to see Nude Live, a collaboration between Sydney Festival and the Sydney Dance Company. It featured about seven dancers (male and female) totally clothes-free set amongst the Nude: art from the Tate collection exhibit. So not only were the dancers nude, so was all the art. Perfect! Little teaser video below:

To say it was amazing would be doing the show a disservice. The dancers were incredible. The choreography was so beautiful – funny, sad, emotional. There was one piece between a guy and girl where it was like the girl was trying to get the man’s attention and/or affection and he was very listless and unresponsive – it made me think of depression, mental illness or even falling out of love. So many feelings during that piece. My friend actually teared up.

AND to make matters better/worse, there was one session where the audience could go along and get nude. Of course, loving public nudity as much as I do, I was SUPER keen to attend. Jared was a very definite no when I asked him. The first time they advertised it, I couldn’t find anyone to go with and missed out. Then they released two more nude shows. One friend couldn’t afford it so I asked this girl we’ve been on a few dates with and she said yes but, by the time we worked it all out, it was sold out. I nearly cried, I was so upset to miss out again.

Which leads me to today’s point: nudity. Some people are ok with it. Some not. Some are ok in a private setting with someone they’re intimate/comfortable with. Some not even then. And some, like me and a few other people I know, are willing to get their kit off anywhere, anyhow. In fact, with the current heatwave we’re experiencing and me working from home most days, I reckon I’ve spent more time naked than I have clothed… And I couldn’t be happier. Any yes, I do like having pretty adornments (i.e. clothes and shoes) but I’d much rather be naked and I don’t much care who sees (although of course I don’t like to make people feel uncomfortable).

I probably have 3 – 5 other friends that are similarly comfortable naked – although perhaps to varying levels of degrees depending on who’s around. Not to say there’s anything wrong with not wanting to be nude in front of people but it takes a certain level of comfort in your own skin to drop your clothes and be like “ta-da!”. One of our gay friends is always eager to prance around in his undies (or nude). I have one girlfriend that I regularly shower with after we’ve been to the beach or are getting ready to go out. I remember one day when we’d been at the beach and all went back to my shower-friend’s house to get ready. The two of us had a shower together and then my nude-loving gay friend and another female friend hopped in the shower (separately) but then we all sat on the bed nude and chatted and rolled around. My gay friend and I danced around the room – our bits jiggling freely in the breeze (ok, we were inside so there wasn’t a breeze but you get the point).

It was all very innocent and in good fun – not sexual at all, which is what I think a lot of people don’t realise. Nudity doesn’t have to be sexual. Of course, it can be and when it is it’s glorious but the human body isn’t immediately made sexual just by the simple fact it’s nude. The show I saw tonight was a case in point – fantastic but not sexual at all. The dancers had different types of bodies and all of them were beautiful in their own right and they were so comfortable striding around the gallery amongst the fully clothed audience. Goddammit, I’m so devastated to have missed out on nude audience tickets! Aaaargh!!

And you know what, I’m sure there’s a mental health practitioner out there ready to pipe up about there being a fine line between being comfortable with public nudity and being an exhibitionist. And you know what, I’m sure there is. But who cares? How does it hurt anyone? I know people will mumble something about children and consent but why should our bodies be looked at as something to be ashamed of. Naked bodies are normal and, as long as no one’s doing anything indecent/inappropriate, it might actually do people some good to see a normal body ‘in the flesh’ so to speak. 🙂 Which is why I love this shot of the male half of sassycoupleok walking down the driveway to get the mail – in the nude (obviously).  Without a care in the world. If only we all could be so free…

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Image credit: sassycoupleok (posted with their permission, of course!)

I would be extremely happy for it in this heat – although I suppose I would have to slather myself in a shit tonne of sunscreen everyday. Small price to pay really. 🙂