Saturday, 2 June 2018

Barenaked lady

It's happening. Slowly, but surely, it's happening, and joyfully, I'm not the one to have initiated it, which must mean that she wants it as much as I do.

I always sleep naked. I have done since I was about 12 - I mean, I own pyjamas - a couple of pairs, hypothetically, even if I'm not quite sure where they are - but they are for social occasions. It's much easier to take off everything and dump it in a little pile before getting into bed... and it's warmer. After a while, anyway. Living in a succession of share houses has proved a little problematic when I'm needing the bathroom in the middle of the night - my dressing gown has been useful in that regard.

Despite the fact that we spent our first night together naked (and didn't actually get around to havng sex until the following morning), the lady with whom I sleep doesn't often do the naked thing as freely as I. Which is fine - I mean, as long as I get to hold her in bed I don't mind what she wears - but I do sometimes find myself missing the soothing, sexy satisfaction of skin against skin, or the shared body heat, or the easy transition to sex.

Over the past month or so, however, I've occasionally had the good fortune to come home and find her disrobed. Whether this is a deliberate thing or not, I'm not sure. But it is pleasing, and it both looks and feels good, and it's hot. I don't think I'm particularly attractive, but I'm fairly sure she does, and I'm not afraid to show her my body; I adore hers, and I'm enchanted by the idea of doing so more often. I'm even finding myself to be more relaxed when sleeping naked with another naked person. It makes me feel - for want of a better phrase - safe. Safe in my vulnerability.

We are getting a flat at the end of the month. I am expecting nudity. Like, all the time.

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