“If people can’t face up to the fact of other people being naked or smoking pot, or whatever they want to do, then we’re never going to get anywhere. People have got to become aware that it’s none of their business and that being nude is not obscene…If everyone practiced being themselves instead of pretending to be what they aren’t, there would be peace.” – John Lennon
Doug answered the door fully clothed, invited me in, and promptly made tea (I’ve never drank anything as much as I drank tea while in Scotland). He remained clothed that first evening, but nudity was nevertheless the topic of choice. He taked about his business doing non-sexual bachelorette parties, where essentially grown women giggled at his nudity while playing a few interactive games. The conversation soon led to sexuality (though this had less to do with nudism and more to with Doug and I both being very open and sexual) and he pulled out his chastity toys, explained their various functions, and offered to show a video of him giving a blow job. I had no interest in seeing it so I declined, but I appreciated his straightforwardness and genuineness nonetheless.
The next morning when I woke up and saw him washing dishes naked in the kitchen, I surprised myself by finding it completely normal. I am neither modest nor prudish, but as I was alone with a naked man whom I just met, I had anticipated some sort of naked “presence”, or perhaps even an oppressive air of masculinity. Nope. Those thought originated from my American Catholic upbringing I suppose. He was just a naked man in a kitchen, his flaccid penis flopping about harmlessly, and within thirty seconds I forgot that was even the case.
When it rained too hard for sightseeing, Doug and I spent cozy couch-confined days watching Dr Who, The Big Fat Quiz of the Year, and Train Spotting. We took turns cooking and talked about every aspect of our lives. I normally divulge about 90% of my life’s details to just about anyone willing to listen, but I knew Doug wouldn’t judge me for the remaining, darker 10%. We talked about our past, our ambitions, our fears, our relationships, our sexcapades. He told me he had hooked up with couchsurfers in the past, and I knew he said it in part because of his attraction to me, though he would never have made the first move. He had a good body for being in his 40’s, albeit a bit lanky, and just enough gray hair and wrinkles to look more distinguished than old. In the end, his candidness and confidence made me sexually drawn to him more than anything else. Having him naked next to me made everything seem so much more possible. I wanted to touch him out of a curious, primitive urge; a playful, exciting, well-we’re-both-naked-so-why-not interaction.
As a species we’ve spent 170,000 years expressing ourselves through clothing in much the same way that male birds flaunt their feathers to prove themselves worthy to a mate. But clothing has inadvertently become another way to make people insecure about their bodies and their social status. Nakedness removes one of the many barriers we have between us and makes everyone equal. One quickly realizes that their body is normal precisely because no ‘normal’ body exists.
Would more random sex happen if we were all naked? Probably. Would more rapes and sexual assaults? Probably not, as those are crimes of power struggle and not sex. I doubt we’ll ever walk around completely naked, but hopefully someday in the near future we’ll at least free the (female) nipple from its unwarranted exile. Funny, how those who choose their natural state are the ones considered weird.