Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta clothes. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta clothes. Mostrar todas las entradas

miércoles, 14 de enero de 2015

Unapologetic

  It wasn’t that he had an urge to be different or something like that. He just like the way the world felt when no clothes were worn. It made him feel alive, as if the pants and shirts he wore for work were just the symbols of a servitude he had never been happy with. He didn’t understood how some people love to wear such clothes but the important thing was that he hated them and, if he had the choice, he would have chosen never to wear them again.

Let’s go back a bit in this story to better understand Nicholas, or Nick, as only his closest friends called him. He didn’t allow anyone he didn’t know to call him Nick; he thought it was just wrong. Two loving parents, which had belonged to the hippie movement back in the sixties and early seventies, raised him like that. He hadn’t been around them at the time, but their choice of living certainly showed some of those things learned in life.

Nowadays they lived in a small farm, taking care of various animals and planting most of their food. They would avoid doctors if they could, and all electronic devices except a cellphone, which made the connection, once every two days, with their son. They would always give him advice on eating healthy and how to be a better human being and Nick took the advice. His friends appreciated his humanity and inherent openness.

Anyway, from his childhood nick had learned to respect all creatures and not to be ashamed of him, both physically and mentally. He was taught the human body is beautiful and that this beauty should always be appreciated and taken care of. And the reinforce this idea, his parents would often take him to the beach to look at people and make him sick that “ugly” rarely meant “hideous”. Most often, it meant, “I don’t like it”; a personal opinion. Respectable but not universal.

Of course, those beaches were nude ones. People would go around without any kind of underwear and, from an early age, he knew that was normal and just played as any other kid on the beach, building castles and bridges and making pits with the salt water. And he enjoyed it thoroughly. For him, his parents were just ideal because they let him do whatever he wanted but just remained him to be responsible. And Nick was smart so it made it a lot easier for them.

Of course, he received a fair share of bullying in school. Because he was so young, he just told everyone about his holidays, like any other little boy or girl did, but when he said he had being in a nudist camp or beach, the kids would laugh at him and the teacher would call his parents, who would explain their views to her, with no success. They would push him and call him names only because he wasn’t ashamed.

That’s when he learned what hypocrisy means. He was a bit older than ten years old when he learned that older men thought often about younger naked women and they were magazines and TV channels showing them, not necessarily being pornographic. And that was ok in general, although not unspoken. But when someone mentioned liking being naked after showering for some minutes, people thought of them was instantly a depraved person and someone to watch out as he or she might become dangerous.

But Nick, now aged thirty-one, knew there was nothing depraved in going to the beach and just not get any tan lines. He was amused that, when a sexual partner asked him how he did to be so evenly tanned and he answered with the truth, such person would get even more aroused. Still, after so many years, it was almost seen as a fetish. For Nick, that wasn’t the case. It was just him being who he was.

If he stayed at home a whole weekend, for example trying to finish up some work or because of the weather, he would always be naked. He showered and took care of himself, so there was nothing really bad about it. If someone visited they would ring before hand to be let into the building so that gave him a couple of minutes to grab some pajama pants and a t-shirt, or something of the sort. And he would be “presentable”.

He did that because he was aware most people were not comfortable with nudity. That’s why, and he said it loudly when drunk, he just loved sex. And it was because he felt free, not only because it felt good or was fun. He just felt more like himself during sex and also when he stayed naked at home alone. He wished it could be like that all the time but, of course, it wasn’t possible.

Nick had learned from his parents, though. When he had time to spare, and only after visiting his parent’s farm, he would go to a nude beach or to a nude camp to fish. He loved fishing too and his father had taught him everything he had learned from his father who was a fisherman, the kind that captures rare crabs or lobsters. The lake was not like the ocean but the teachings were just as effective.

The best about it all was that he had no secrets with his parents. He was absolutely honest with them and they would tell him every problem they would have. He would drive his father to his prostate exams and would laugh with his comments about it afterwards. Same with her mom and her gynecologist appointments, which he loved because of the faces of the other ladies there. Nick, in turn, would tell them about work, love interests and his love for the naked body.

It was obvious they deeply loved each other. Nick’s friends envied this relationship he had with his parents because, as they told him, it wasn’t strange that parents and children became apart with time, as their priorities change and even distances settled in. But most, he knew, had not really being that close with their families when young so, there wasn’t anything to wonder about.

One fun thing about being naked was that some people thought it was fascinating. Some of his best friends knew about it and didn’t mind (as long as he did only in his house) but people he had met randomly or through them would take an interest in it. Nick found that to be kind of awkward but always tried to answer every question as accurately as he could and sometimes even told them to ask a doctor because most questions related to some physical problem, as if you required a special set of physical and mental skills to be naked.

It was Jenna, an older woman who was a teacher of fine arts in a university, who asked him if he could model for her class. At first he said yes but then he recalled the days he had been bullied and pushed around. What if they laughed or stared in an annoying way? He loved being naked but he didn’t like to be the center of attention; one didn’t lead to the other. But he had already said yes so he went and, for once, he did love to be center of attention, even if it was to twenty students trying to draw his body.

Afterwards, he was able to see the pictures the students had painted and he was surprised to see many of them were very talented. He somehow thought students would just try to do something decent but quickly reminded him that artists become artists even before they are aware of it. When he was about the leave, he met another model and talk to him for a while. He was studying architecture and paid his lunches and other expenses with the money he made standing naked in front of the students. He quickly became one new friend.

Nick had known other people that liked nudity before but they would always like it in relation to sex, which he found to be a bit obvious, to easy if you will. Besides, they would vanish fast, after promising to call, to write or to meet again. But with Greg, he had stronger connection: Greg’s mother had been a hippie too and his dad was just the most loving guy one could meet. In his words, his dad loved everyone just because they existed.

So from then on, they would often meet and talk, not necessarily naked. Nick liked to be around someone that understood him and got what he thought of many things. In the holidays they shared a trip to the beach and had a great time. They would even go dancing at night and stay in one of their apartments each time, that was the degree of friendship and trust. Sex? No, it never happened. They were friends. And kept on being friends for a long time after they met, almost all of their lives.

Nick did love being naked but what he liked the most was people. And not any people but the people that made him who he was, who loved him for who he was and who didn’t judged just because for what he liked. Yes, he was a man that loved being naked; he was not ashamed of himself and was unapologetic. But he was also a great friend, a dedicated son, an open mind and one great fisherman.

martes, 9 de diciembre de 2014

The places in my pain

This is a dream. This is not real. None of this is. Not his smile, not him in any way. Not this place, maybe not even me. I know why I'm here, I remember...

When it started, I found myself laying on a bed, watching the sunrise through a large window, with no blinds or curtains to stop light from entering. It was truly beautiful sight, like no other I had ever seen. But then... Yeah.  I had actually seen something like this before. On a trip with my parents when I was younger. I think we had been camping on a forest and then the sun appeared behind the mountains. My dad had awoken everyone to see it. Why was I dreaming about it?

This dream... It felt strange. I could actually control what I was doing, not merely witnessing things. I stood up from that bed and walked towards the window. It was impossible not to gasp when seeing what was beyond the window: a cliff.

The place were I was, a house I thought, had been built overlooking a deep cliff, with the ocean at the bottom and several pointy rocks. What did that mean? I was sure it meant something. After all, it was a dream.

Then I realized I was wearing a shirt, a blue one. I had never worn one, as office work made me crazy. Then again, no office had considered hiring me so... I was also wearing white socks and that was it. For the first time in the dream, I was scared: what if this was a nightmare? Maybe something I disliked or hated would step in anytime.

I entered the bathroom and realized there was no shower, bath or sink. The door opened to the outside of the house. And I wasn't wearing a shirt and socks anymore, but a sleek black suit with a tie. I had always hated this kind of clothes. How weird...

As I walked on the grass outside, I realized the house slowly fell into the abyss, in silence. It was like seeing someone die or being born, slow paced and beautiful, in a very strange way.

Beyond the grass there was a forest and, somehow, I knew I needed to go there. So I walked. The tie felt looser and so did the shoes as I crossed the grassy fields and neared the forest. When the eucalyptus smell filled the air, I found myself stark naked. I looked for the suit behind me, but there was nothing there, just grass.

"Who cares", I thought. Clothes come and go apparently. What was important now was to keep going and see what all of this was about. As I penetrated the thick forest, stepping on branches and logs, I thought the forest was a very clear memory I had stored for years.

Near my grandparents house there was a park, not that big, but with very tal eucalyptus trees. Those kind of trees were not indigenous to the country and you could feel it in the air and in the soil. They would take me and my sister to that park. And we would play for hours on the benches, on a sand box, and all over the playground someone had put there to make children happy. And it did. We would eat ice cream after that or something sweet and then go back to the house. My grandparents where exceptional people but they never had too much to spare.

That forest in the dream was the park I had played in, replicated thousands of times by my mind. I didn't see them or my sister there, however. The place was silent and there was no one living there except me. Nevertheless, I was still nervous because the dream appeared to be taking a lot of time to end.

After a long walk, I finally arrived to the shores of a lake, that appeared to have the shape of a raindrop. I didn't thought much of it. I just walked towards the water and smiled when realizing it was warm. So nice and cozy, like a bed. So I decided to get all in and dive. My whole body felt warm, so I closed my eyes and let the current take me wherever she wanted.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying again but not on a bed but in a sleeping bag. How odd... After that one time with my family, I had decided never to camp again and there I was again, all cozied up in a sleeping bag. I would have stayed there if it hadn't been for the sound. Finally, my dream had sound. And outside, something or someone was moving so I got up and stepped out.

This time, I was wearing boots, a jacket, thermal pants, gloves and a cap. I only gave a few steps before realizing were I was: a high mountain, another lake very near. There was snow all around and, very far, I could see more mountains and no people. Except one.

There he was. I didn't know this place, or that person, but I ran towards him. He was happy to see me up and starting telling me about the birds he had seen since he had woken up. I heard all of what he had to say, very patiently, calmly. And, to my surprise, I could understand and answer very naturally. We hugged and kissed and laughed and then we had breakfast together. I don't remember having such a good time with anyone, not in a dream or in reality.

This place and that man... I had no idea who he was or where I was but I frankly didn't care. I felt safe. Not like before when I thought that might be a nightmare in disguise. Now I felt nothing could be better and I prayed, in my head, for it not to end soon.

As he put up the fire, I got the cooler where we had brought the eggs and ham, tomatoes and a white onion. And chopped it all as he got the fire started. I found myself looking at him for a long time. He would just smile and keep doing his thing. It felt so strange, so unnatural in a way. I felt great but I knew I had no idea who he really was.

We put it all in a pan, tomatoes, onion and ham and then four eggs and mixed it all. We would share all of it. He told me he was hungry and then kissed me and it felt great. But I couldn't stop thinking: do we really know each other? I s my brain creating this person out of nothing or have I actually met this face?

When we started eating, I didn't care. He just smiled and laughed and made me laugh. He was such a happy person and I felt a bit guilty because I knew the dream would end soon and then we might never see each other again.

After breakfast, we got in the tent and kissed, a lot. I didn't felt the outside cold anymore. I just felt his warmth and that was all I need. His hands and lips felt so real, as if I was really there with him, feeling his hair and breath near my skin. That smile... I would never forget his smile.

But then, it all vanished and I opened my eyes. As soon as I woke up, the sudden urge for vomiting was uncontrollable so I just did there, in my bed. It wasn't long until some nurse came in and cleaned my face and changed my pillow.

The pain was strong, my throat was sore and it felt as if my head had been use as a rattle. I couldn't get back to sleep so I just cried my heart out waiting for everything to end once and for all. That was the only way I could get him back, him and my peace.

lunes, 17 de noviembre de 2014

The Hunt

He let his body fell into the water. It felt like ice surrounding him but he didn't mind at all. He spend a whole minute below water, before he had to emerge again, a bit less dizzy.

The lake was almost pitch black at this time of night, only the moon casted some light over the water and the nearby trees.

The man pulled out of the water, on the other side of the lake, and stripped down, entering the water again, now naked. The water felt less chilly now but he shivered anyway, his teeth chattering also.

He swam a few meters away from the shore but came back after his buttocks and feet started to hurt from the cold. As he had no way of drying himself with a towel, he remained naked, sitting down on a big rock, waiting for the water to slide down his body.

As he stroke his skin to get the water off, he heard the barking of dogs, far away, on the other side of the lake. So he had run far faster than them but they were still looking for him. He kept drying himself with his hands, making a special effort to hear every single sound on the forest.

Again, he heard the dogs, nearer. He grabbed his clothes and hid among some trees and waited there. Sure enough, a group of five men, each with a german Shepard dog, scouted the area, walking fast all along the shore. The dogs seemed puzzled as his scent ended there, in the edge of the lake. They were there for almost an hour, even checking the water with a flashlight.

After the hour, they left, entering the forest on the other side. The man could finally breath at ease and came out of the trees again. He left his clothes on the floor and sat down. He began to think on all that had happened that night. It was unreal to him, it seemed like a really bad prank. But it wasn't. Somehow, all of it happened.

He gazed at the clothes and saw that they still had stains of blood all over. Even if he got rid of the stains, he knew the police was aware of his clothes when he escaped their custody, so he decided to dig a hole and put them there. As he covered it all with dirt, he watched the sky: the night was clear and beautiful. He could see all the stars above and the constellations. He finally found the North Star and stood up.

He pointed at the star and moved his hand down, to a point behind the trees he had been hiding on went the dogs and police came. He then washed his hands, stomped on the ground to make it seem natural and then penetrated the forest.

The man walked for several hours and when he finally got to the edge of the forest, he encountered a road. No car was visible. it must have been really early in the morning and he knew it wasn't wise to be a naked guy near a road as it would be very suspicious.

He decided to cross the land, away from all roads or paths. His skin got scratched and hurt several times by barb wire and other elements that separated every single lot on his path.

That night, he didn't sleep. He just couldn't and wouldn't either. He decided to keep walking and when he got tired, he just lay on the ground, preferably on grass or against a tree, were shadows protected him.

The next day, he passed by a house that appeared to be empty. He grabbed some sweatpants and a hoodie from their clothes line and then stood by the back door for several minutes. He doubted if he should go inside or maybe try some other site. He needed shoes and socks, if he could find them. His feet were in very bad shape.

He finally decided to go in, as he was desperate and waiting was not an option. He knocked on the door and shouted "Hello?". He preferred, if people were inside, to be believed a homeless man and not a crazy killer or something.

The first room was the kitchen and his stomach growled instantly. He looked on the cupboard and grabbed some bread and drank milk that he found in the refrigerator. When he was done, he walked to the next room, the dining room. Connected to a sitting room.

Everything was so well done, so well decorated. There were pictures too, of a happy family: Mom, Dad, an older son and two younger daughters.

 - Who are you?

Scared by the voice of a young girl, the man dropped the picture and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces on the ground.

The girl was standing not too far from him. She was holding a knife. She looked 14, maybe older. She was wearing pijamas and slippers.

 - What are you doing here?
 - Please...
 - I'm calling the police.
 - No! Please. No...

The girl did not move from her spot. She got closer as he walked back to the kitchen. There, the girl opened a drawer and pulled out a gun. She left the knife on the counter. Pointing at him, she talked again:

 - Why did you took our clothes?
 - I was... I don't have clothes. Just, let me go, please.

The man gave a few steps towards the back door but the girl charged the gun and yelled " Don't you move!". The man, too weak to argue, fell on his knees and begged her to let him go. He swore he wasn't a thief or a murderer. He only needed clothes as he was escaping.

 - So you belong to the police. What innocent person escapes?

He gazed up and looked her, straight to her eyes.

 - Someone who is desperate.

On that precise moment, the girl flinched. The guy took advantage of this and stood up fast, pushing the door hard and running as fast as he could. The girl stood on the door and fired three times but she seemed to have failed her target.

When her parents got home, she told them all about the intruder. Her dad called the police and officers scouted the area but no one was found. However, some blood did appear on some corn crops belonging to the family's neighbor.

No one ever saw that man again. Months after his intrusion into that house, they found the clothes he had taken in a bin inside a restaurant located 20 kilometers to the north. But they never stopped looking for him. He was believed to be the killer of, at least, six people in the most brutal way possible. but the truth was even more twisted and difficult to believe. It was easier to hunt him down.

domingo, 14 de septiembre de 2014

Afterwards

Helena got of bed carefully, not wanting to awake Dave. Last night had been fun but she saw no need of staying around, least of all in his bed.

She pulled the covers as slow as she could, thanked God for Dave being on a fetal position on the opposite side and tiptoed all the way the the bedroom's door. She opened it fast and closed it softly.

- Fuck!

She realized her clothes were in the room. She was only wearing her panties.

The young women, rather short and with a beautiful average body, entered the room again and stayed on the doorframe trying to locate her belongings: her stockings were just beneath the bed, her shoes just by them, her dress near the door and her purse under his briefs.

It was funny, but she had always being judgmental about men wearing briefs. She saw it as a childish thing to wear them but all indications lead to her not minding about that the night before.

As she took her clothes, Helena felt some nausea, feeling her head hurt as she bend over to grab her things.

She went out the room, again, and walked to the living room. She had to be honest, the view from there was just amazing: from there you could see all of downtown and even more. As she noticed the apartment was on a high floor, she decided to dress by the window, checking everything out.

The girl could see people walking on a park below, some cars passing by, a rather peaceful day. She recalled it was sunday but had no idea of the time. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her cellphone: almost dead. Any way, it was 1 PM.

She got scared as maybe her parents had called home or something, but she was soon put at ease when the cellphone begin ringing. As the volume was on full mode, she almost dropped it, scared Dave would wake up.

She went into a bathroom by the living room and closed the door. Now she could answer.

- Hi mom.
- Hey sweetie. Where are you?
- I'm buying bread.

She just said the first thing that came to mind.

- Oh, sleeping late?
- Yeah. Had Monica's birthday yesterday.
- Right... How was that?
- Good. Had... fun. Mom could I call you back when i get back home?
- Sure sweetie. I'll wait.
- Ok mom. Bye.
- Bye.

She hung up on the middle of her mother's "bye". It wasn't a good idea to keep talking in a place where there was a man she didn't wanted to confront.

Helena got out of the bathroom, put on her shoes and took a last look on a mirror Dave had as decoration. She was a little pale and her makeup was a mess. She decided to clean up her face so she entered the bathroom and rinsed her face with water. When she was ready to dried it up, she let out a scream as she saw the man on the bathroom mirror.

To be honest, she didn't screamed because she saw him awake. As she walked out the bathroom she confirmed what she saw: Dave was stretching, still half asleep, naked in front of her.

- Hey... - he said.

She didn't answer. Her face was soaking wet and it seemed as she had forgotten how to talk or move.

- You should dry yourself up. I don't like wet floors.

She reacted then and took a towel. As she did this, Dave entered the kitchen, only separated by the living room by a black marble counter. He turned on the coffee machine and took out a mug from a shelf.

No, Helena didn't even faked it: she saw his body as she hadn't seen it the night before. He was really not a model or the example of perfection but there was something really attractive. She couldn't really point out what it was.

- You want coffee?
- Sure.

No doubt. She needed coffee. She came out of the bathroom again and walked to the counter. He poured some coffee on two mugs and had a big sip before speaking again.

- Have to go?
- Yeah, kinda.
- Oh, ok... Last night was great.
- Guess so...

He smiled.

- What?
- You were drunk, I knew it.
- I wasn't!
- Yes, you were. Do you even remember it all?

It was not her style to lie. She didn't saw the utility of it.

- No.
- It's cool. Just a crazy night then.

He winked at her and drank some more coffee. She only sipped some, not really in the mood to stay longer.

- Look, I have to go.
- Sure, ok.

Helena walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob and turned to Dave.

- I remember you're great in bed and I hadn't had so much fun having sex or talking to sometime in quite some time. Thanks.

He smiled and raised his mug, as if toasting. She smiled too and went out the door.

Dave finished his coffee, scratched his belly and passed one hand over his hair. After thinking of her one last time, he took out some bread from the pantry and put them on the toaster.

He went to the living room to turn on the TV and entered the bathroom to pee. As he did so, he noticed something by the sink: Helena's cellphone.

Sure enough, just after Dave had put on his briefs, he heard the doorbell. Second chance was ringing.