How a Naked Man Feels?

Some years ago, I visited Barcelona. It was a terrific trip, and I enjoyed walking late at night down the Ramblas, taking in the sights and smells. In particular, I was fascinated by the live statues that we encountered. Young men and women would paint themselves the color of marble or bronze and strike poses reminiscent of classical Greek sculpture. They were often in pairs and were sparsely clad. The women usually wore a thong and skimpy bra, and the men donned only loin cloth or, on occasion, just a flap of cloth covering their fronts. Unfailingly, their bodies were luscious.

Every so often, usually on a side street, we would come across a woman who had removed her top. Sometimes, there would be a man posing with her. I found it very erotic to see a woman exposing her breasts in public, especially under the gaze of a watchful male audience.

On one occasion, we came across a beautiful, full buxom woman posing in a way that gave prominence to her large breasts. The man, who was wearing only a small cloth covering his front, stood a few feet from her eyeing her features. After they broke the pose, I approached the man and offered him a fairly large tip if he would remove the cloth covering his loins and pose with me. To my surprise, because I had not seen any naked male models during my time in Barcelona, he accepted.

When he dropped his "fig leaf," I notice that he had also covered his privates with a paint that resembled marble and that he was reasonably well endowed. As I walked toward him, I asked my husband to take pictures of us. I don't know how innocent a grown, fully dressed woman draping herself of a completely nude man can look, but my intentions were anything but.

I must admit that I know a thing or two about how to arouse a man, and it was my intention to put on a show. I rubbed my large breast against his arm and let my other hand dangle down his back side. When we changed poses, I brushed up against his penis and felt him respond. Finally, when I was sure that his fire was lit, I took several steps back from him and let my gaze lock on to his gorgeous penis. Almost immediately, his penis lengthened and began to rise. In no time, he was at full erection. It was clearly something he had not planned for, and he tried to nonchalantly cover his arousal. I however shook my head no and insisted that he remain exposed as he was. It was truly a magnificent sight.

That night, after making love with my husband, my mind returned to the experience of that afternoon. I began to wonder, for the first time I think, what it must be like to be a man standing exposed in public. I tried to place myself in his body and to experience what it must have felt like to be exposed in that way. Not surprisingly, I ran into a block. How could I imagine what it must be like to be a man when I am a woman? My only recourse was to begin with my own experiences.

To be honest, I have modeled nude several times for an art class that a friend of mine teaches and so know how it feels to be naked before a viewing audience. At first, I limited myself to exposing my breast and only later uncovered my lower half. To my surprise, I felt myself more exposed when I revealed my breasts than when I unveiled my sex. My breasts are ample, and they were right out there in a way that resisted any attempts to hide or conceal them. I felt exposed, and although it wasn't an unpleasant experience, it made me feels as if I was on display.

Displaying my sex was different matter for me. Somehow I felt I was making known something more intimate, personal. I remember well the sense of trepidation I felt as I dropped my robe and bared it all. I was sure that everyone's eyes went straight to my pubic area. I felt more vulnerable than exposed perhaps because I was presenting the sexual gateway to my inner being. But again, the vulnerability I felt was not unpleasant.

I realized the very first time I stood completely naked before a viewing audience that I was hooked and would not be able to stop until I crossed what I knew was a further bridge. I knew that I hadn't exactly put my sex on display because it was concealed by my pubic hair, which covered it and thus hid it from view. I understood that I would not be fully naked until I allowed my viewers to see the slit that opened to my sex.

I admit that I was apprehensive about this last move because I have a rather large clitoris. Even when I am not excited, it protrudes ever so slightly from the folds between my legs. Shaving my pubic hair would expose to my audience the center of my sexual pleasure. I am not at all sure that courage is the right word, but this would take some courage. Even when I had finished removing its hairy cover, I was unsure whether I would go through with it.

The only way I went through with it was to place myself in a position where I couldn't turn back. The excitement pulling me forward and the apprehension pulling me back was intense and almost paralyzing. Only when I was standing on the stage and reached for the belt on my robe did I know that I was going to expose myself in a new way. As before, it was not an unpleasant experience, but it was clearly a different experience. This time I felt both exposed and vulnerable.

As I thought back over these experiences, I knew I was getting some where. This was, I believed, an important point of contact between male and female nakedness – the feeling of being both exposed and vulnerable. A naked man has no way to hide his penis. It is manifestly on display, inescapably there for all to see. There is no way to diminish its presence. I imagined that this must be the pinnacle experience of exposure. Having my clitoris on display was as close as I would get to the experience of having my penis on display.

The question of vulnerability left me still wondering. The sense of vulnerability I felt had to do with visual contact with my sexual being. Man's penis makes known his sexual register; it is what indicates the state of his sexual arousal. When naked, a man opened himself to the possibility that he would announce sexual desire. I had seen it happen with the young man on the street. Moreover, it said that these are the dimensions of my erotic life, the size of what is put in play, the instrument of my lovemaking. It was an announcement that made him very vulnerable in a very personal way because it revealed intimate details. At once, I knew that there was one more bridge that I needed to cross.

After I returned home, I called my friend and scheduled a time for me to model for his class. When the day approached, I went into the bathroom and shaved my pussy. I also arranged for my husband to attend the session. I, however, told him nothing about my plans, not even that I would be modeling nude.

You should have seen the look of surprise when I walked on to the stage and dropped my robe and even more when I took a pose that parted my legs directly toward him. My clitoris was on full display. My eyes caught his looking directly at my sex. The fact that I knew that those around him were also seeing the same exhibition only added to my erotic energy. I could feel myself becoming aroused and knew that I was now showcasing a very swollen clitoris that seemed ever so slightly like a small erect penis. In truth, I loved it because ... I was not sure.

I wasn't sure, until I actually did it, that I would bare myself in that way. I had to conquer the apprehension I felt about exposing that dimension of my sex life. While I found it exhilarating on the whole, I could easily understand that it could be experienced otherwise. Nor was I sure that I would feel the same next time, if there was a next time, or even if I would be able to do it another time. It wasn't the sort of experience that, once you have done it, it's a piece of cake from then on.

When I got home later that night, my husband was sexually on fire. As we undressed for bed, I noticed that he was hard and ready. I should let you know that my husband is very, very large. When I first met him, I couldn't take him, and even now, I often have to take it slow. What I love is to take him in my mouth because I can use my hand on what I couldn't possibly get in mouth. I pushed him on to the bed and went to work. In no time at all, he came. My mouth filled with his semen. I loved the intense musty taste because it was him.

I kept working his penis until his spasms subsided. His large spent member flopped on to his stomach, but I, however, was not through. I used my hand to keep him hard enough to enter me. I felt, as I usually did, stretched to the limit as I pounded away straddling his large manhood, taking as much of him into me as I could manage. I felt my body shudder as wave after wave of ecstasy broke over me. Finally, I felt his body stiffen and release another orgasm into me. We fell exhausted into each others arms.

I later realized that I had learned another aspect of what a man must feel when his exposed penis rises before a viewing audience. I register my sexual response within my body; it is something that happens inside me. I wondered if a man experienced his sexual response as an extension from his body, something that he projects outward. As we undressed for bed the following evening, I asked my husband about it. He said he wasn't sure as he lower me onto the bed and then stuck that "third leg" of his in me. Our lovemaking was intense and personal, and after we were finished, I ask him for his verdict. He answered that he wasn't sure and that we would need to try again to answer it. I put his manhood in my mouth and again brought him to climax. He was still non-committal. I have a feeling that I might not ever get an answer out of him and will be doing this sort of thing for the rest of my life. It wasn't an unpleasant thought.