I’ve written here of my experience while as an undergraduate student at university of working as a nude model for the art classes there. For those who missed my earlier post, please click the following title for a direct link: Posing Nude. One aspect of my employment that I neglected to mention was a hazard of posing naked, although “hazard” is perhaps too negative a word to use.
As a bare practitioner (naturist/nudist), I am accustomed to being without clothing. Maybe I am just too comfortable being clothes-free for my own good. Even before leaving to go away to university, I was nude whenever possible. Growing up in our family home, I shared a bedroom with my identical twin brother, Alex. The two of us reached an uneasy truce with our parents in our battle for nudity – as long as we were in our bedroom, we could be nude. Anywhere else in our home, we were required to wear clothing.
This resulted in us both having complete comfort and confidence in being naked. Our older and younger brothers didn’t have the preference for clothes-freedom that we did, but they adjusted to the fact that our bedroom was our “nude domain” and so when they entered our room, they didn’t react to our lack of clothing. In turn, Alex and I became familiar with our nudity while our siblings wore clothing.
This familiarity with being bare while others were textile (clothed) almost caused a campus disaster once we left home for university life. My own experience began shortly after I had started posing for the art students.
It was on a beautiful Spring day, a pleasant breeze with plenty of sunshine and everyone wishing they were outside instead of confined inside a classroom. I took my place in front of the class and the entire time I posed I had one recurring thought: “When this is over I can begin to celebrate the weekend.”
I thought the class would never end. It seemed to last an eternity. Finally, the professor announced the time and wished all of us a happy weekend.
There followed a mad rush to the door as all the students were anxious to get outside. I believe I was the last one to leave and had just gotten into the hallway when I noticed how people were staring at me and a few were even laughing.
As I approached to doorway to exit the Art building, one of my friends waved to get my attention and motioned me over to where he was standing. He was shaking his head and barely contained a huge grin.
He pointed directly at me.
I was completely naked.
In my haste to leave, I’d forgotten to get dressed into my clothes! If I hadn’t seen my friend, I would have walked out of the building and been in the middle of campus, totally bare!
I don’t think it would have caused me any embarrassment had that happened. By this stage of my life, I was fairly confident with my nudity and was already known throughout the campus as a naked model for the Art School. I don’t think the campus security would have summoned the Washington, D.C. police, after all, it was an honest mistake.
Or, was it?