Gotcha

Nudity does not equal sexuality.

At least not in my book, although I acknowledge that most of the world sees it as such.

But ask any nudist if nudity equals sex and the answer will be quite different.

I like nude resorts.

I love swimming and sunbathing naked.

It just so happens that when I do those things, I do them at a local resort where social nudity is acceptable.

The other day, I was texting a new man – a fireman, of all things – and I mention that I’ve been invited to a naked hot tub party with my friends.

He laughed, and assumed it meant freaky things were going to happen.

Typical, for someone who has never been to a nude resort.

Nude resorts do not equal lifestyle resorts.

It’s not a free-for-all-sex-party.

Actually, it’s quite the opposite.

People are more respectful and hands-off because everyone is vulnerable, without clothes to wear as protection.

I find men in the nudist community WAY MORE APPEALING than men outside it, because they understand the courage it takes for a woman to take off her clothes and walk around naked in front of other people.

Plus, and I mean this as sincerely as possible, no one looks.

Oh ok.

We look at first.

We give sideways glances but eventually, it just becomes nudity and it fades into the background.

So here I am trying to explain to this doofus that I’m not going to a sex party, that I’m going to a nudist party when he shuts me down.

“GOTCHA” he says.

Conversation terminated.

And I’m left feeling frustrated and misunderstood.

Such is the response of most unindoctrinated vanilla man.

And just like that, the conversation ended.

His loss.

Many snores

I just took a trip to Reno to visit my sister.

We got facials and used the facilities at the Spa Toscano at The Peppermill.

It was ah-mazing!

I actually fell asleep during my facial and woke myself up when I snored.

Yup, I snored in the middle of my facial.

Twice!

I was obviously SO RELAXED!

In the women’s locker room, there were several spa features:

  1. A hot tub
  2. A cold plunge
  3. A steam room
  4. A sauna

Personally, I stripped naked and jumped in the hot tub.

I was surprised to see all the other women in swimsuits.

Even a bridal party of seven skinny women did not have the balls to strip naked in the ladies locker room.

Given the opportunity to get naked, I ALWAYS get naked.

In fact, hanging out at the spa made me miss Lupin Lodge in the Santa Cruz mountains, where you can walk around naked as they day you were born in the beautiful sunshine.

My sister and I eventually put on swimsuits and went to the Caldarium (an indoor area with a soaking pool and hot tubs where you can eat and drink).

She soaked in the pool while I hung out in the hot tub.

Afterwards, we got to eat at the Bimini Steakhouse at The Peppermill and I KID YOU NOT, we both ordered the filet mignon and the Australian lobster tail and when our food arrived, there were TWO LOBSTER TAILS FOR EACH OF US.

Too much food to eat, so we basically forced ourselves to eat the lobster tails and took most of our filet mignon home.

A dessert of cherries jubilee, and we were finished with our day of pampering.

Reno might not be the city you think of when you think of a weekend of pampering and relaxation, but I’m here to tell you it is.

I wish you all many snores!

SoulFire (aka the night I lost my pants)

I can’t BELIEVE I haven’t told this story yet.

As you know, SoulFire is near and dear to my heart.

And it’s because of the people and cherished memories.

So many loving hugs, smiling faces, and open hearts!

Each time I’ve gone to SoulFire, it’s with my BFF Tejas.

The first time we ever went, we took his Motorbeast (the RV) and did a “mock up” of Burning Man.

To see if we could live with each other.

Within minutes of arriving and setting up, I was making Tejas a cocktail.

A margarita.

He handed me his cup, which was a LARGE MCDONALD’S cup that used to hold soda in it.

I made him a QUADRUPLE!

Actually, what I should say is that I MADE HIM A QUADRUPLE WITHOUT TELLING HIM!

[I call it a QUADRUPLE, but really I have no idea how big it was.  I just kept pouring tequila.]

I thought it would last the next several hours.

Well, he drank it down, not realizing how much tequila I put in it. . .

. . .and proceeded to forget the rest of the evening.

No memory of having dinner. No memory of getting nicknamed by a sexy woman.

Nothing.

I, on the other hand, proceeded to walk around naked (it was a naturalist resort, btw) then semi naked in a tank top and booty shorts.

Let’s just say when I woke up in the morning, I couldn’t find my jeans!

Late into the evening however, someone came to fetch me to bring Tejas home to his RV.

He was sitting on a bench, happy as a lark, ready to go to bed.

And do you know, I managed to get him to the RV, undressed, and even got his C-PAP machine on him before I went to bed.

I am one hell of a good friend (or good at making up for being a BAD friend and getting my BFF wasted).

Tejas and I always have a good laugh about it now.

The night I got him drunk, lost my pants, and put him to bed!

Semi Prude

Several years ago I attended a retreat at some nearby hot springs.

I signed up for the retreat AS I WAS DRIVING THERE, so I never got a chance to read the emailed instructions they sent me detailing what the weekend was about.

We make it through ALL OF FRIDAY NIGHT, sleep in community, and then get up for Saturday’s activities.

Somewhere around noon, the instructors mention that it’s “Clothing Optional” time and everyone starts to strip.

They ask, “Did anyone NOT know this retreat was clothing optional?”

I raise my hand.

I mean, I knew that the hot tubs were clothing optional, but the WHOLE RETREAT?!

This I did not know.

So I swallowed VERY HARD, TOOK A DEEP BREATH, and I STRIPPED.

Yes, I did.

When in Rome, you know.

And as it turned out, it wasn’t that bad.

We, as Americans, have far too prudish an attitude about nudity than other countries.

I made it through my naked weekend just fine.

But it’s been years since I did a naked retreat and I must admit, the idea of doing it again kinda scares me.

Why am I bringing this up?

Because I’m going to a party which is clothing optional and I will of course be invited to socialize in the nude.

In some way, being naked is wonderful because it removes all the barriers we put up to keep people at a distance from us.

There’s lots of connection when you see the vulnerable side of people.

But in other ways, being naked is awful because it removes all the barriers we put up to keep people at a distance.

And that provides safety.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but if I had to guess, I say I’ll go in the hot tub naked but I will socialize with my clothes on.

This American is only SEMI-PRUDISH!

What happens in the hot tub stays in the hot tub

I was at a party when I noticed that some friends were hopping into the hot tub in various states of undress.

Some wore bathing suits.

Others wore half a bathing suit.

And still others wore their birthday suit.

Well, there is nothing I like better than socializing au naturel, so I stripped and climbed (almost fell) inside.

I’m so dignified (cough).

I know you’d like to think that there was action.

And perhaps there was.

A little.

But it was all PG-13 rated.

I swear!

No one got past first base!

Sadly, I had to get out of the hot tub prematurely because my dear friend Tejas needed encouragement to consume water (not booze).

[How he managed to find CINNAMON SCHNAPPS when I told him to drink water for a while I WILL NEVER KNOW.]

That man is nothing if not resourceful.

So I have saved the memory of the hot tub activities firmly in my mind and will enjoy watching it play on repeat to my utter delight.

Sneaking around naked

This may or may not have happened at Mercey Hot Springs:

After imbibing MANY gin and tonics with FRESH lime juice, an entire bottle of champagne, AND a few glasses of red wine, two women decided to sneak off to the “CLOTHING OPTIONAL” soaking tubs to take a dip in the hot water.

The hot tubs are empty and have to be filled with hot water for each user.

The hot tubs are also crawling with black beetles that have to be flushed down the drain BEFORE you can use the tubs.

So the women rinsed out their hot tubs, got rid of all the beetles, and filled their tubs with water.

Then they carefully removed their clothing, placed everything on a nearby chair, and stepped into their hot tubs to soak.

The water was hot and enveloping.

The night breeze was warm and relaxing.

One of them turned off their Coleman lantern so that they could see the lights from the stars.

As soon as the light went off, the women were cloaked in darkness.

The light from distant starts started to appear before them.

It was the Milky Way, almost close enough to touch.

So beautiful

So striking.

Before long, the women were joined by two other couples, who each snuck into their own tubs to watch the star show.

And then, one of the women started snoring.

She was sleeping in her hot tub.

Her friend, realizing it was time to take her back to the tent, rustled her awake.

“Time to go to the tent.”

In order to not put on a peep show to the light of a Coleman lantern, the women opted to wrap their towels around themselves and sneak back to their tent, hopefully avoiding staff.

The woman who was awake had a yellow towel and she wrapped it tightly around her body.

The sleepy woman did not do very well wrapping up her nudity. She was losing her towel right and left, so much that the other woman had to turn off the lantern lest they be seen in the light.

They carefully made their way, giggling loudly, in the dark to the campsite.

Home sweet home!

Reliving the good and the bad

Just the other day I was chatting with Yvonne over dinner and the topic of Lupin Lodge came up in comparison to Harbin Hot Springs.  In my experience, Harbin is a bit more comfortable a space to walk around naked in than Lupin Lodge on account of the guys chasing tail at Lupin.

I had to go back and read Yvonne some of my posts from my first trip to SoulFire (which are now private on account of them mentioning He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Mentioned.

So I’m posting some of what I wrote below:

 

What could I possibly write to capture the bright lights, holographic, mystical fun that was SoulFire?

It was, in all honesty, the best party I’ve ever been to with 350 of my closest and dearest friends.  You instantly felt at home.

It was also an ego fest for me.

Two younger men, Father Figure and Mr. Security, were chasing my tail. Father Figure did it much better than Mr. Security, who felt compelled to adjust my top without my permission whenever he felt like it.

I was camping with Tejas in his RV.

motorbeastIt was hard, hot work setting up camp, which is great when you’re having sex but sucks when you’re organizing an RV.

We set up on Friday afternoon and got down to the business of having fun with other guests.

I wore my Orgasm Donor t-shirt.

orgasm donorWe went to our local pub – the Dusty Bumm. The Dusty Bumm has a ceiling canopy made entirely of women’s thongs. I have a black vinyl one I want to donate to the cause.

At the Dusty Bumm, they’d make you whatever drink they could for you and then you’d stand around and enjoy it with new friends.

Everyone was friendly at SoulFire. Everyone hugged hello and goodbye.

Everyone kissed.

It was heaven.

Tejas and I ventured to the pool and hot tub and had some fun soaking while he talked to people about OMing.

I left (naked) with Mr. Security, who showed me his hut in the mountains and shared a “cigarette” with me.

The rest of the evening is mostly a blur of walking around naked, finding my clothes, going back to my RV. Trying to find Tejas. Mr. Security cooking dinner for me because I was too drunk to do it myself.

After eating dinner, Mr. Security and I decided to wander around. We made our way to the Dusty Bumm. I was wearing nothing but a tank top and red underwear at this point. Someone came up to me and told me I needed to help Tejas, that he was really drunk.

I found Tejas sitting on a bench across from the Dusty Bumm, happy as a clam and ready to go to bed.

With the help of a Ranger, we managed to walk him to the RV where I got him ready for bed, before he crashed.

It’s wasn’t a super late night, but it wasn’t an early one either.

So to recap:

  • Michelle was so drunk a guy had to cook her dinner
  • Tejas got so drunk he had to go to bed early
  • Michelle lost her clothes, then found them hours later
  • Michelle walked around naked for a while
  • Tejas had a great time having women sit on his lap at the Dusty Bumm

A GREAT time was had by all and my only regret is that I can’t remember more of the evening. But hopefully that’ll return to me in time. Until then, party on, right!

 

UPDATE:  I NEVER recovered any more memories of that night.  WHAT was in that cigarette?

Am I Worth 200 Nickels?

lingerieThis is NOT going to be a post lamenting my single status.

As you all know, I very much enjoy being single and playing the field.

No, this is not a post about that.

This is a post about the TOTAL WASTE OF SPACE MY LINGERIE COLLECTION IS TAKING UP.

It’s so UNDERUSED.

Seriously.

Do I need to wear a sign around my neck that says date me?

Or maybe it should say something else?

Don’t go there.

Respect.

Even if there was a man I could wear lingerie for, I doubt he’d appreciate it.

Honestly, I can count on one hand the number of times a man has stopped in the middle of the action to remark on my lingerie.

It’s just something that gets in the way of all that delicious nudity.

On the other hand, if I had a nickel for every time a man paused, shook his head slowly, and remarked on what a nice body I have, I’d be rich.

Well, I’d at least be able to buy myself a beer.

Does size matter?

Size doesn’t matter

Or does it?

I’ve always been attracted to big, tall men. In part I am sure because they make me feel like a petite, delicate female.

I also am not typically attracted to pretty boys. I prefer men with faces that hold my attention. They’re complex.

Looking at my history, I usually wind up with:

  • Tall
  • Athletic
  • No college education
  • Strong jawline, though not necessarily a handsome face

So imagine my surprise at being attracted to Austin, a man with a beautiful face, 5’10” tall, and small-ish hands.

Not exactly my type, or so you’d think.

But he is a very good kisser (just read Kisses That Go Nowhere). And he has a jawline that could cut glass.

And he looks like this naked.

Yes, I am posting a pic of Austin in the buff, at least part of him.

Now you can see why my brain turns to total mush around him.

And you can also understand a little of my confusion over why he’s interested in me.

I’m neither petite nor delicate.   When he stands next to me I’m almost his height. Doesn’t he want a tiny girl to make him feel big and masculine?

There is a possibility here…

Maybe size doesn’t matter. Maybe size is all in our heads. It’s what you do with what you were given that matters.

Maybe the biggest, strongest man is the one who internalizes his strength and doesn’t need the outside world to continually verify for him what he already knows.

The shortest man can still cast a very long shadow.