Do you think that being naked all the time causes me to think about sex more than I would if dressed? After all, my cock and balls are treated to a wide variety of sensations and temperatures as I go through my day. Sometimes, I have to move my balls out from under me when I sit down. Other times, my hand drops to my lap, and bumps into my cock.
Direct physical contact with my genitals requires no effort at all. Despite that, I don’t find myself getting erections during the day. Sure, when I write about sex, something tends to pop up between my legs. Otherwise, I stay calm the same way I would if fully clothed. Still, I feel a heightened sense of vulnerability because I am naked.
Over the years, I’ve noticed that Mrs. Lion spends more and more of her time naked as well. Is nudity contagious? Have we become a nudist couple? After all, Mrs. Lion has no requirement to remain unclothed. She does it because she wants to.
I’m not sure that she even notices my nudity any more. It never comes up in conversation. She very rarely makes a remark about my exposed cock and balls. Of course, I don’t expect her to offer a running commentary on something I’ve been doing for over 15 years. I guess it’s just part of me now. Clothing is for going out and for when company comes. My natural state is bare and nearly completely hairless.
The most I have actually have on is my chastity device. When wearing that, ironically the only part of my body shielded from view is my penis. Well, you can see some of it between the bars of my cage. This state is so ordinary for me that I rarely even think about. It came to mind today only because I went out for physical therapy and then as soon as I got home, I got naked as usual. While I was undressing it crossed my mind that what I’m doing is far from typical.
My post the other day that mentioned purple panties drew a little extra attention. One person wistfully noted that he badly wanted his wife to require him to wear women’s underwear all the time. He said that she is unresponsive to this request. He bought some anyway and wears panties now and then. For the record, between me and shopping trips with Mrs. Lion, I have a fairly extensive collection of frillies. Most of the items are still brand-new never worn.
I’m not complaining. If Mrs. Lion decides to put me in panties, we’re all set. Meanwhile, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that I’m naked and hairless. Speaking of which, hair has been growing back and it’s time for waxing again. Mrs. Lion reduced the area she removes hair. Of course, she removes all pubic and butt hair. She also cleans off my chest, underarms, shoulders, upper legs, and back. Essentially the only fur I have left is on my arms and lower legs.
I asked Mrs. Lion to remove all this fur. I confess that I like the way I look. There was one time a few weeks ago when my hairlessness caused me some concern. It was during the long power failure. We decided to go to the local community center for showers. The men’s locker room is open with no place to hide. Even if I wrap the towel around my middle, my hairless chest and underarms, not to mention my legs are visible for one and all to see.
We went at a time I figured that few, if any, people would be in the locker rooms. When I arrived and undressed to shower, I was the only one there. After my shower, when walking back to the locker where I put my clothes, another man was nearby changing into his gym shorts. He glanced my way and I’m sure noted my lack of fur. I didn’t see any change of expression, no gasp of horror, just a glance over to me and then he resumed undressing.
I have no idea what I expected. What could a stranger possibly say? “My God! He has no body hair!” That’s just silly. Also, why should I care what a stranger thinks of my personal grooming. Ironically, when I had surgery for removing a kidney stone, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that the entire surgical team would see my lack of pubic hair. When I had to go back to the doctor’s office to remove a stent, again I was naked in front of his nurse and the surgeon himself. I wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t even think about it.
I know it doesn’t matter how others will react. I’m me and I come packaged with almost no fur. Big deal. My blasé attitude would certainly disappear if someone I know wasn’t aware of our kink, saw me this way. A friend would almost certainly comment. At this point, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t blush. Though deep down, I’d be, at least momentarily, embarrassed.
That’s not a bad thing. After all, part of my kink is this sort of gentle humiliation. It’s no different than wearing panties. It’s a kind of naughty fun.