Exhibitionists meet here!
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By flyer356J
#46562
It started in Key West, That's where they have this "FloridaFest" every Halloween weekend. Clothing is permitted, but not preferred. A bit of body paint, in strategic places here and there, is preferable. I had arrived mid-morning, and set up my tent and cot in a camp-ground on Stock Island, (motels for that weekend cost from four hundred to five hundred a night.) and then driven to the city parking garage two blocks over from Duval street (parking costs $50 a day). She was on a parade viewer spot on Duval Street, just standing there, with bare 54" (at least} beautifully curved and supported breasts stuck out over the street. Not even any paint!
I had the standard tourist camera draped around my neck. "Do you want to take my picture?" she said.
"Of course", I said. "How many times have you asked that in the last hour?
"A lot," she replied. "Everybody likes my tits." I took the picture.
"Male and female equally,?" I asked.
"I haven't kept count," she said. "I would guess the males have it. I''m Glenda."
"I have a suggestion," I said. "I'm Thad," and I suggest we go to "Garden of Eden" bar, It's a just a couple of blocks up the street, and up four flights of stairs. You'll have to lose the rest of your clothes, and so will I. Everybody's naked there. I'll buy the drinks."
She was totally agreeable, so we did. At the top of the stairs a naked man took our remnants of clothing, put them in little mail-boxes, and gave us wrist-tags with the box numbers, and welcomed us in to a new world.. It was new for me, even though I had lived in southeast Florida for four years. The girl bartenders were not quite nude, just tiny bikini bottoms, and likewise the three girls who were up on the little stage, putting out some noises I guessed were supposed to be music. It was slow music, not the frenetic modern stuff, and the few couples on the dance floor were responding accordingly, as we had done to Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey in my day.
She did not push, so I did not try the dance floor. I had saved a twenty from the clothing we had surrendered, and the boobs and nipples behind the bar gave us a couple of gin and tonics and change, and we went to the railing around the roof-top, and some couples there moved closer to give us room at the railing. A friendly crowd.
If we had not been already surrounded by naked males and females, I would have found the view quite stimulating. Four floors below, on Duval Street, the middle of the street (vehicles forbidden for this event) was a sea of flesh. Bare bottoms and bare tits were everywhere. Along the sidewalks on either side the crowd mosied slowly along, north to south on one side and south to north on the other. It didn't matter. Both sidewalks were fully occupied with FantasyFest participants, clothing being much in evidence by it's omission. .
Glenda tapped me on the shoulder. "There's a vacant spot at a table," she said. "Let's grab it." We did.
The other two at the table were females, topless, and generously endowed in that area. I would not have questioned their choice, which was denim skirts, waist to knee, almost, but Glenda was not so reticent. "Pardon me", she said to the nearest one, "It's not my business, but I have to wonder. Why the skirts\? You know what this place was. The sign says plainly, "Clothing Optional." You didn't just wander in here by accident. Why don't you partake of the full freedom, as most of us do."?
"Our husbands insisted we come here," she said . "But this is as far as we go. We sometimes do this at home, just topless, not total like you, even privately. It's sort of pleasant, but so strange. You're both totally nude. Is it that much different.'?
I started to formulate an answer, but Glenda beat me to it.. "It's the freedom," she said."Here we make our own decisions. Nobody tells us what to do. It's not seeing or being seen.
It's just the freedom. You can get this on some beaches, and on some other rare events like the Nevada "Burning Man" and in Rio on Carnaval weekend. But this, in the middle of a town, is really unique. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Beautiful tits," chimed in the other of the duo. "I'd rather my husband doesn't see you. He thinks my tits are as good as they come. He won't say so, but I'm sure that's why he married me. He had plenty of other choices".
We chatted awhile, like old friends. The subject had to be comments on the principles and practicality of nudism. Looking around us, how could it not be. I got a chance to propose one of my favorite theories, that nothing should be a crime, or a sin, that did not have a victim, or at least the very high probability of there being a victim (like most traffic laws). We all agreed that laws against nudism were not desirable, from that viewpoint, because if you and I are both nude, neither of us is hurt in any way, and neither is anyone else within view, so there is no victim, and not a shred of probability of there being a victim. If you know a place where there are liable to be nude people, you don't have to go there. If you see one, nobody's forcing you to look. Just look somewhere else. Therefore; there's no real reason for a law against nudity.. We were just beginning to explore the historical and religious biases against revealing only certain body parts. That can get very complicated, so I'm glad we were not able to take the arguments very far. Two rather stout ladies, both nude, came to our table. One said, "Good afternoon, Mabel and Minerva. We're glad to see you, though we certainly did not expect to find you here."
"Oh my!" was all the one in the denim skirt could say. "I don't know what to say or do. If you tell our friends and neighbors it will be the juiciest bit of gossip in town in many years. The PTA and the Ladies' Reading Circle will probably expel us."
"We won't say a word," said one of the newcomers. "And if you tell, it would be the same for us, so let's just enjoy the day, and the unusual circumstances. I'm certainly enjoying it - not bothering with clothes, that is."
The other skirt-wearer, the one with the brown skirt, got up and stood beside the table. "Minerva," she said, "I'm going to do it. It they can be naked, so can we. She unsnapped a snap at the back and pushed the skirt, and whatever was under it, down to the floor. It was obvious the particular patch of skin thus revealed had not seen much sun. It was blindingly white.
"Glad to have you join the freedom lovers," I said, "but I suggest you spend most of your time in the shade of the table umbrella. That sun is still high enough to give you a good burn."
Minerva moved a step into the umbrella's shade, and said, "How about it, Mabel? It's nice, I like it.."
"If you can, I can," said Mabel, and proceded to do so.
Mabel had no sooner doffed her skirt than two naked men showed up. The husbands, we were informed. They were not surprised nor dismayed. They were Jacob and Willie. There was room for them around the table, but just barely. We were all crowded closely, flesh to flesh, together. They tried not to look but that was impossible. Glenda's massive front was thoroughly observed, noted, and put aside.
It went on for an hour or so. We all enjoyed the southern late-summer sun and the warm but not hot breeze. Some strangers stopped by to talk. Three bare and beautiful ladies was, I guess, demanding of notice. . Nobody revealed, or promoted, home towns or famiy history. Not appropriate for that time or place. Then we thought it time to start thinking about the evening meal, so we retrieved our clothes from the little boxes and went down the stairs to the street. We decided on a little Cuban restaurant out on Mary street and started off to the parking garage. We left Duval Street and the police surveilance and Minerva said, "I'm going to be bold and get naked right here on the street. I don't know why, but it seems something I just have to do. OK? Hon," to the husband. "You can, too " Mabel said, "I'll join you." Jacob did not even comment. He just matched the wives bare state.. "Walking along a city street naked just seems like an adventure I have always wanted to so," said Willie," as he shucked off his pants and shorts. How about you two? Will you join us?"
"Why not?" I said. Glenda just said, "Sure", and we did.
The parking garage attendant was a bit amazed, but not fazed. Even in Key West FantasyFest I guess we were stretching it a bit. He did not object.
The parking garage is three levels, with the top being open air. I had parked on the second level as I had the top down and didn't want to put it up. Summer thunderstorms can happen any time of year in Key West. The six of us crowded the elevator a bit, but as we were entering it a man and two girls (I doubted they were 18 years old) crowded in. The girls were topless, with shorts. The man was fully dressed. "Top floor", he said, and I pushed the proper button. He said "You all look like you are ready to party. I've got some good bourbon and Seven-up on ice in the trunk. You're invited."
Now that's what I call friendliness.
The elevator was a bit crowded, so the girls waited until we unloaded on the top open-air floor, and then shucked off the shorts, so it was ten naked people who gathered around the back end of a new-looking Buick station wagon. We still didn't know their names, but the one clothed person introduced them, as he was getting rid of his quite conventional clothing. "I'm Rupert," he said, "and these are my daughters Alice and Alicia. I suppose you can see they are twins, Doesn't matter which name to attach to which. Sometimes I do it wrong, myself."
Now that was a party. Down on Duval Street the evening was getting a bit rowdy, but we didn't mind missing it. There wasn't much you could do to improve our position. Good liquor, just-right air temperature, sun declining to where it was nice and warm, but not burning, and five beautiful, naked, girls.
I have been fortunate to see a large part of the world, and many different peoples. Different skin colors, different religions, different outlooks on life. I can testify that it is only in the USA and Canada where nudity is unfailingly associated with sex. A nude woman is assumed to be advertising that she is ready and willing to mate. It's not true, of course, but all our laws seems to be based on that assumption. Which makes Key West, and especially FantasyFest, all the more remarkable. Five beautiful girls, all totally naked, not even shoes, and nobody was groping another. We were certainly looking, and all of us, both sexes, were proud to be looked at, and approved. As the sun sank slowly into the Gulf of Mexico there was some increase in touching and some hugging, and even a bit of feeling the right places, places seemingly made just right for feeling. It was limited, though, to husbands and wifes, and father and daughters. Plus Glenda and I, of course.
Believe it or not, that's all. When we all felt ready we put on the necessary amount of clothes (didn't take much), had a nice Cuban dinner, and went our separate ways. Glenda and I went back to Garden of Eden for a couple of hours, than to my tent and blow-up mattresses on the ground. I had to go back to work early in the morning, and Glenda just said "It's been nice, Best FantasyFest I ever attended." I agreed, kissed her, and drove back to normal civilization. I'll be back next year, the Good Lord willing an' the creek don't rise.
.








It started in Key West, That's where they have this "FloridaFest" every Halloween weekend. Clothing is permitted, but not preferred. A bit of body paint, in strategic places here and there, is preferable. I had arrived mid-morning, and set up my tent and cot in a camp-ground on Stock Island, (motels for that weekend cost from four hundred to five hundred a night.) and then driven to the city parking garage two blocks over from Duval street (parking costs $50 a day). She was on a parade viewer spot on Duval Street, just standing there, with bare 54" (at least} beautifully curved and supported breasts stuck out over the street. Not even any paint!
I had the standard tourist camera draped around my neck. "Do you want to take my picture?" she said.
"Of course", I said. "How many times have you asked that in the last hour?
"A lot," she replied. "Everybody likes my tits." I took the picture.
"Male and female equally,?" I asked.
"I haven't kept count," she said. "I would guess the males have it. I''m Glenda."
"I have a suggestion," I said. "I'm Thad," and I suggest we go to "Garden of Eden" bar, It's a just a couple of blocks up the street, and up four flights of stairs. You'll have to lose the rest of your clothes, and so will I. Everybody's naked there. I'll buy the drinks."
She was totally agreeable, so we did. At the top of the stairs a naked man took our remnants of clothing, put them in little mail-boxes, and gave us wrist-tags with the box numbers, and welcomed us in to a new world.. It was new for me, even though I had lived in southeast Florida for four years. The girl bartenders were not quite nude, just tiny bikini bottoms, and likewise the three girls who were up on the little stage, putting out some noises I guessed were supposed to be music. It was slow music, not the frenetic modern stuff, and the few couples on the dance floor were responding accordingly, as we had done to Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey in my day.
She did not push, so I did not try the dance floor. I had saved a twenty from the clothing we had surrendered, and the boobs and nipples behind the bar gave us a couple of gin and tonics and change, and we went to the railing around the roof-top, and some couples there moved closer to give us room at the railing. A friendly crowd.
If we had not been already surrounded by naked males and females, I would have found the view quite stimulating. Four floors below, on Duval Street, the middle of the street (vehicles forbidden for this event) was a sea of flesh. Bare bottoms and bare tits were everywhere. Along the sidewalks on either side the crowd mosied slowly along, north to south on one side and south to north on the other. It didn't matter. Both sidewalks were fully occupied with FantasyFest participants, clothing being much in evidence by it's omission. .
Glenda tapped me on the shoulder. "There's a vacant spot at a table," she said. "Let's grab it." We did.
The other two at the table were females, topless, and generously endowed in that area. I would not have questioned their choice, which was denim skirts, waist to knee, almost, but Glenda was not so reticent. "Pardon me", she said to the nearest one, "It's not my business, but I have to wonder. Why the skirts\? You know what this place was. The sign says plainly, "Clothing Optional." You didn't just wander in here by accident. Why don't you partake of the full freedom, as most of us do."?
"Our husbands insisted we come here," she said . "But this is as far as we go. We sometimes do this at home, just topless, not total like you, even privately. It's sort of pleasant, but so strange. You're both totally nude. Is it that much different.'?
I started to formulate an answer, but Glenda beat me to it.. "It's the freedom," she said."Here we make our own decisions. Nobody tells us what to do. It's not seeing or being seen.
It's just the freedom. You can get this on some beaches, and on some other rare events like the Nevada "Burning Man" and in Rio on Carnaval weekend. But this, in the middle of a town, is really unique. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Beautiful tits," chimed in the other of the duo. "I'd rather my husband doesn't see you. He thinks my tits are as good as they come. He won't say so, but I'm sure that's why he married me. He had plenty of other choices".
We chatted awhile, like old friends. The subject had to be comments on the principles and practicality of nudism. Looking around us, how could it not be. I got a chance to propose one of my favorite theories, that nothing should be a crime, or a sin, that did not have a victim, or at least the very high probability of there being a victim (like most traffic laws). We all agreed that laws against nudism were not desirable, from that viewpoint, because if you and I are both nude, neither of us is hurt in any way, and neither is anyone else within view, so there is no victim, and not a shred of probability of there being a victim. If you know a place where there are liable to be nude people, you don't have to go there. If you see one, nobody's forcing you to look. Just look somewhere else. Therefore; there's no real reason for a law against nudity.. We were just beginning to explore the historical and religious biases against revealing only certain body parts. That can get very complicated, so I'm glad we were not able to take the arguments very far. Two rather stout ladies, both nude, came to our table. One said, "Good afternoon, Mabel and Minerva. We're glad to see you, though we certainly did not expect to find you here."
"Oh my!" was all the one in the denim skirt could say. "I don't know what to say or do. If you tell our friends and neighbors it will be the juiciest bit of gossip in town in many years. The PTA and the Ladies' Reading Circle will probably expel us."
"We won't say a word," said one of the newcomers. "And if you tell, it would be the same for us, so let's just enjoy the day, and the unusual circumstances. I'm certainly enjoying it - not bothering with clothes, that is."
The other skirt-wearer, the one with the brown skirt, got up and stood beside the table. "Minerva," she said, "I'm going to do it. It they can be naked, so can we. She unsnapped a snap at the back and pushed the skirt, and whatever was under it, down to the floor. It was obvious the particular patch of skin thus revealed had not seen much sun. It was blindingly white.
"Glad to have you join the freedom lovers," I said, "but I suggest you spend most of your time in the shade of the table umbrella. That sun is still high enough to give you a good burn."
Minerva moved a step into the umbrella's shade, and said, "How about it, Mabel? It's nice, I like it.."
"If you can, I can," said Mabel, and proceded to do so.
Mabel had no sooner doffed her skirt than two naked men showed up. The husbands, we were informed. They were not surprised nor dismayed. They were Jacob and Willie. There was room for them around the table, but just barely. We were all crowded closely, flesh to flesh, together. They tried not to look but that was impossible. Glenda's massive front was thoroughly observed, noted, and put aside.
It went on for an hour or so. We all enjoyed the southern late-summer sun and the warm but not hot breeze. Some strangers stopped by to talk. Three bare and beautiful ladies was, I guess, demanding of notice. . Nobody revealed, or promoted, home towns or famiy history. Not appropriate for that time or place. Then we thought it time to start thinking about the evening meal, so we retrieved our clothes from the little boxes and went down the stairs to the street. We decided on a little Cuban restaurant out on Mary street and started off to the parking garage. We left Duval Street and the police surveilance and Minerva said, "I'm going to be bold and get naked right here on the street. I don't know why, but it seems something I just have to do. OK? Hon," to the husband. "You can, too " Mabel said, "I'll join you." Jacob did not even comment. He just matched the wives bare state.. "Walking along a city street naked just seems like an adventure I have always wanted to so," said Willie," as he shucked off his pants and shorts. How about you two? Will you join us?"
"Why not?" I said. Glenda just said, "Sure", and we did.
The parking garage attendant was a bit amazed, but not fazed. Even in Key West FantasyFest I guess we were stretching it a bit. He did not object.
The parking garage is three levels, with the top being open air. I had parked on the second level as I had the top down and didn't want to put it up. Summer thunderstorms can happen any time of year in Key West. The six of us crowded the elevator a bit, but as we were entering it a man and two girls (I doubted they were 18 years old) crowded in. The girls were topless, with shorts. The man was fully dressed. "Top floor", he said, and I pushed the proper button. He said "You all look like you are ready to party. I've got some good bourbon and Seven-up on ice in the trunk. You're invited."
Now that's what I call friendliness.
The elevator was a bit crowded, so the girls waited until we unloaded on the top open-air floor, and then shucked off the shorts, so it was ten naked people who gathered around the back end of a new-looking Buick station wagon. We still didn't know their names, but the one clothed person introduced them, as he was getting rid of his quite conventional clothing. "I'm Rupert," he said, "and these are my daughters Alice and Alicia. I suppose you can see they are twins, Doesn't matter which name to attach to which. Sometimes I do it wrong, myself."
Now that was a party. Down on Duval Street the evening was getting a bit rowdy, but we didn't mind missing it. There wasn't much you could do to improve our position. Good liquor, just-right air temperature, sun declining to where it was nice and warm, but not burning, and five beautiful, naked, girls.
I have been fortunate to see a large part of the world, and many different peoples. Different skin colors, different religions, different outlooks on life. I can testify that it is only in the USA and Canada where nudity is unfailingly associated with sex. A nude woman is assumed to be advertising that she is ready and willing to mate. It's not true, of course, but all our laws seems to be based on that assumption. Which makes Key West, and especially FantasyFest, all the more remarkable. Five beautiful girls, all totally naked, not even shoes, and nobody was groping another. We were certainly looking, and all of us, both sexes, were proud to be looked at, and approved. As the sun sank slowly into the Gulf of Mexico there was some increase in touching and some hugging, and even a bit of feeling the right places, places seemingly made just right for feeling. It was limited, though, to husbands and wifes, and father and daughters. Plus Glenda and I, of course.
Believe it or not, that's all. When we all felt ready we put on the necessary amount of clothes (didn't take much), had a nice Cuban dinner, and went out separate ways. Glenda and I went back to Garden of Eden for a couple of hours, than to my tent and blow-up mattresses on the ground. I had to go back to work early in the morning, and Glenda just said "It's been nice, Best FantasyFest I ever attended." I agreed, kissed her, and drove back to normal civilization. I'll be back next year, the Good Lord willing an' the creek don't rise.
.
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