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Naked Ambition.

by Bobo 

Posted: 28 August 2003
Word Count: 959
Summary: Inspired by a job I did at University before gravity started to take its toll on my droopy bits! Would really really appreciate feedback. xxx


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Have you ever had that dream where youíre totally, utterly, Ďbitsí on full display, naked? You know the one - everyone else is fully clothed, decency wholly preserved, while you are starkers, not a stitch on. Iíve had that dream a number of times, and if I were to take dream analysis seriously I would accept the diagnosis Ďa fear of being found outí, or some such like twaddle. Of course, I donít take on board what the supposed íexpertsí say; at the end of the day they donít know me, me or my foibles, so how can they profess to know what goes on in my subconscious, huh? No, the whole Ďfear of being found outí thing is pretty far off the mark. Itís a prime example of how alleged Ďspecialistsí make things unnecessarily complicated, an over-egging of the pudding, so to speak. No, with me itís always been a case of what you see being exactly what you get - Iíve no need for symbolism, not even in my dreams. The reason Iíve always had dreams of being publicly naked is simply because Iíve always wanted to be publicly naked! Iím something of an exhibitionist, you see, an exhibitionist of the flesh. Oh yes, Iíve been flashing my knickers since a very early age, always liking that taken-aback expression of on-lookers. Sweet and oh-so-cutesy in little girls, downright alarming in a fully grown womanÖ And, before you ask, no, Iím not French or any other nationality of whom you may like to think my exposure fetish more acceptable; Iím English through and through, right down to the Union Jack tattoo on my right buttock!

Finding an outlet for my passion has always been a difficulty - by that I mean something which doesnít culminate in court proceedings. Itís only when you want to illicitly expose yourself that you realise the full extent of English prudishness!

Iíve tried streaking at sporting events, though Iíve never been one for sport really. The 1990 England V South Africa Test Match springs most readily to mind, seeing as I was rather a pert wee thing then and was so excited by the opportunity to flash my wares at Ian Botham ( whom Iíd had something of a crush on for years ) that I was verging on the orgasmic ( which made it difficult to run, quite frankly ). Ah yes, streaking was quite gratifying in the early days, but the novelty wore off after I was arrested for the fourth or fifth time; I started to develop an awful rash from the blankets the police used to bundle me off in, plus the tabloids can be so cruel about even the lightest dusting of body hairÖ

I even gave the whole Naturist jaunt a go, but, well, youíre just one of many and so it defeated the object somewhat - no shock, no admiration, no leers, just God-forsaken acceptance ( whatĎs the point in that ?! ). Plus, it was so difficult to come to terms with the full horror of some peopleís bodies - for many, clothes are indeed a blessing - I often couldnít eat meat for days! Chicken giblets everywhere I lookedÖ

Iíve no regrets; one has to give these things a go, donít you think? Live and learn. Suck it and see. All part of lifeís learning curve, and all that. But how was I ever going to satisfy my need, satiate my craving? Friends made all sorts of suggestions - most useless, reflecting their total lack of understanding - nudist beaches, strip-o-gram, various religious sects, etc, etc. Iíd almost given up, thrown in the towel, resigned myself to a life of clothed modesty.

And thenÖEUREKA!!!

Now Iím absolutely in my element. Happy as a pig in pooh! Oh yes, this is indeed the life. Not only am I naked; I'm actually admired ( regardless of the state of my bikini line, thank God because it does tend to spread at the rate of a bush fireÖno pun intended, obviously ), and Iím actually being paid for it. No, no, not the kissagram thingy ( so very common ), nor am I a stripper ( vulgar, to say the least ). Iím an inspiration, me. My bosoms, my buttocks, my íbitsí - all of my naked body - being studied, in detail, and immortalised. This curve, that curve, this crevice, that crevice, this shadow, that shadowÖthe whole bloody lot of me. Ten pounds an hour and itís better than therapy. Sometimes the poses can be a bit challenging ( you try standing on one foot for twenty minutes! ), but I rate myself as a true pro and so never complain. The odd bout of wind can be a tad problematic also, but, again, I just put on a brave face and hope nobody notices ( theyíre all pretty preoccupied with their brushes and palettes and trying to catch the teacherís eye, so probably
oblivious! ).


Anyway, what I really wanted to say to you is this: if ever you have the Nude Dream, look into yourself, deep into yourself, for its real meaning. Donít feel you have to side with the Ďexpertsí, be your own person, explore the possibilities. Without meaning to alarm you, there's the very real possibility that you, like me, just need to get your kit off in public. Do try streaking or Naturism if the urge takes a hold of you ( and youíre not repelled by my earlier tales ), though don't say I didn't warn you! But, overall, art classes are really where it's at for me and I can't recommend them enough. Suck it and see, as I said before - go on, you know you want to...









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Comments by other Members



Bee at 11:57 on 28 August 2003  Report this post
Bobo, I liked this a lot! I found it refreshing as well as very entertaining and funny! Heh - I have had the 'dream' of course, though I wake up in cold sweats praying for it all to be just that!! Alas, tis.
Thanks!

Bee

old friend at 13:35 on 07 September 2003  Report this post
Hi Lisa,

I have never 'streaked' but I have shared the dreams of birthday suits and delved into bare-bottomed beaches.

You asked for 'HELP'. There are so many avenues for 'writing' but you will have to make up your mind in what 'direction' you wish to travel. Poetry is (I am sure) the finest form of writing but, except for the few - or when you are dead - there is little money in it.

There is an enormous amount of crap writing around today and much of it does find its way onto the large or small screen or onto our bookshelves; but if you have a belief in yourself and KNOW you can write then MAKE your opportunities. I could go on...

Anyway interesting piece you have written.

Len

Bobo at 09:37 on 09 September 2003  Report this post
Hi Len -

Feel the need to ask you more about your delving into bare-bottomed beaches...!

Thanks for your words,

BoBo x

old friend at 07:04 on 06 October 2003  Report this post
Hi Bobo,

T'was on the Isle of Skiathos that I showed all. Banana beach was the place.
All species were bare - 'starkers' you'd say - examples of the human race.
I saw lots of this and I saw lots of that - an experience unusual and rum.
But one thing I did fail to see was a flag on somebody's bum.

Regards,
Len

Bobo at 08:10 on 06 October 2003  Report this post
Len - thanks for that...it made me smile. I went to Skiathos last year...loved it, though didn't get my kit off on Banana Beach as it was a chilly day!

Lisa
x


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