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In some of my previous entries, I wrote about experiences I had in my first couple of years in college. Now. I'm going to jump ahead a little. After I graduated, I moved to another city where I started my master's degree and got a job at a downtown office building. I am, of course, innately friendly and outgoing, so I did not have much trouble connecting with people I met at school or work. But when you are a person who likes to go naked in social situations, it takes a bit longer to cultivate just the right friendships.
The first person I really clicked with was a husky butch chick named Shelly. She wasn't my type romantically, and she already had a long-term girlfriend, so we quickly became pals. Through her, I started playing on a softball team that included several other lesbians. Technically, I am not a lesbian myself, but just bisexual. I have dated men and might do so again if the right dude comes along, but at this particular moment in my life, I just wanted to be immersed in the company of other women -- preferably gay women so I could harmlessly flirt with them while naked.
The chicks on the team included Bea and Dee, a forty-something, leather-wearing dyke couple. They had genteel-sounding Southern accents, but cussed like sailors and seemed able to answer any question with a quaint idiom into which they had inserted swear words. For example, if a movie or meal turned out less impressive than expected, one of them would say, "Well, that didn't blow my fuckin' dress up." I giggled the first time I heard that one because I was pretty sure neither of them had worn a dress since sixth grade. Bea read my mind and added, "that being a fuckin' metaphor."
We would go out drinking after games and practices (sometimes instead of practices), and they seemed to get a kick out of me because, compared to them, I was so frilly and girly-girl -- and I got their full attention when I started talking about nudity. Relishing having just the right audience, I related in lavish detail my lifelong compulsion to go nude. I was definitely blowing their dresses up.
Soon afterwards, Bea and Dee invited me for dinner at the peeling-yellow Victorian house they owned in a hardscrabble little neighborhood close to downtown. They shared the house with four other women, including Shelly. It was a gigantic old house that had huge, high-ceilinged rooms and a kitchen so big it had room to spare for dancing, even with a thick-legged wooden table big enough to re-enact the Last Supper. Great music came from multiple speakers tacked up among the shelves and hanging pots. And there was alcohol -- beer and wine in abundance during the preparation and consumption of the meal -- and afterwards a bottle of Jack Daniels and some shot glasses sat on the countertop for any who wanted a jolt.
Between dinner and dessert, Bea and Dee took me on a tour of the house -- up the grand front staircase to the second floor where most of the women had their bedrooms, and then up another flight to the smaller rooms on the third floor where servants once lived. They opened the door to a tiny room barely big enough to hold a twin bed and a dresser.
"This here's the only room we have open right now," Dee said apologetically. "It's bitty, hon, but we can rent it to you real cheap if you want it."
I moved in the following night.
Just as when I first went to college and lived in a dorm, I knew that the most natural opportunity for me to be nude would be in and near the bathroom.
The next day was a Monday morning, and everyone was getting ready for work. I stood naked at the top of the stairway on the third floor for a few minutes, listening to the bustle of the house awakening. I crept down the little stairway and peeked around the corner where Kay, in her bathrobe, waited by the open bathroom door.
Suddenly unsure of myself, I almost backed away, but Kay noticed me and started talking nonstop. "So you're next in line after me for the showah," she said in her New York accent, "but if you hafta do your business, the toilet's free right now, and as you see, we have that pretty oriental screen around the toilet for your privacy. I dunno if I can still say 'oriental' screen. Maybe it's an asian screen now, I dunno, but that makes it private enough so even when ya doin' your Numbah Two leave the bathroom doooah open. If ya not puking up ya dinnah or giving birth, leave open the dooah."
I definitely had to pee, so during this speech I went in and sat down.
"Morning, Miss Molly," Bea's voice came from the steamy shower. "Kay, show her the coffee when she's done with her tinklin'. I'll be done in five minutes."
"C'mon," Kay said, taking me by the elbow as soon as I finished washing my hands. "We only got a couple minutes. She led the way, and I followed her down the staircase. I was absolutely gleeful to be naked in the kitchen so soon. I thought I was going to have to work my way up to that, and here I was naked in the kitchen!
"The coffeepot turns itself on at 6 a.m." Kay was saying, "And there's instructions taped up for how to make a second pot if you ever need to. It's nice you're so comfortable in your altogethers, cause most of us ain't very, but we're the ones that's wrong, not you, sweetie -- you're refreshing. And this way there ain't no doubt you're a natural redhead, though I knew you was anyway, pubic hair aside. You have the complexion, the freckles. So here are the cups on this shelf. Use any that you like, and if you have a personal one you want saved for you, those we keep ovah hee-yah."
"Time!" Bea yelled down the stairway, and as Kay headed back up the stairway, I heard her telling someone, "Molly's aftah me, then youse two can decide who's next. I just showed her the coffee."
I selected a bright green cup that I could tell was handmade because it was slightly lopsided, and was nervously pouring myself some coffee in what I hoped was an inoffensive pose as Elle and Shelly came into the kitchen grinning at my nakedness.
"My, my, don't you look nice!" Shelly declared. "Damn, I could get used to waking up to the sight of you every morning."
"Down, girl," Elle said to Shelly. "So Molly, did Kay tell you all the kitchen etiquette?"
Suddenly, I felt a wave of fear that I had misunderstood. "Omigod," I gasped involuntarily. "I probably shouldn't be naked in the kitchen. I'm sorry, I--"
"Oh yes, you should!" Shelly laughed.
"I meant refrigerator etiquette," Elle said. "Goodness, no, don't worry about that. We would never have a rule against you being naked in the kitchen."
"We should have a rule the other direction," Shelly said, looking me up and down again. "I'd vote for that."
"So about the ref-FRIDG-erator," Elle repeated, and explained all the little customs of the house.
That day at work, I replayed everything from that morning in my mind and decided that I was going to go nude at dinner that evening -- but then I chickened out. Evenings at the house were different. In the mornings, it was just the Roommates, but in the evenings, there were often 10 or 20 additional people in the house.
I was still getting used to the rhythms of the House, but I already knew there were several Ex-Roommates who still had their keys and came and went as they chose. Then there were the Honorary Roommates who seemed to drop in unannounced, and that was clearly fine with Bea and Dee, who always made plenty to eat or would whip up a quick omelet if anyone was hungry. Although most of these women were gay, some were straight, so occasionally there was a random husband or boyfriend in the House.
A few nights later, late in the evening after all the guests had departed and it was just the Roommates, Kay said to me, "Molly, I just want to say again that we're all so glad you've joined our little family. You really brighten up this place."
"Especially in the mornings," Shelly added with a grin. "I almost need sunglasses, it's so bright in the mornings." The others hooted and laughed at this and I felt embarrassed, but of course this is the kind of attention that I wanted.
"Speaking of that," Kay said, "I was wondering -- and you can tell me it ain't my business -- but are you just a morning nudist but not one at night? Is that a thing?"
"No, I'm a-- I feel the same way in the evenings," I stammered, feeling myself blushing. "It's just that there are other people here at night and I figured some of them, you know, might not want to . . . see me naked."
Shelly snorted a laugh. "Are you kidding? Listen Molly, your body--"
"Let me handle this, sugar," Bea interrupted. "You're just going to make it sound all dirty."
Turning to me she said, "Honeypot, in this house the only folks who have any say are those that live here, and I know I speak for all of us when I say that you are welcome to go naked whenever the fuck you please, and it don't matter who else is here because they don't have a fuckin' vote -- not that anybody in their right mind wouldn't want to see you naked."
Everyone cheered and threw back the remains of their drinks, and then Shelly said, "Yeah, Bea, that was SO much classier than how I woulda said it."
That Saturday, I had a really long day at work and other things I had to do, so I was away from the house most of the day and came dragging in, starved and grungy, well after dinnertime. Dee, as always, made sure there was still food warm on the stove, but it was something spicy, and I decided I just wanted popcorn. Popcorn and a stiff drink.
My stiff drink of choice is normally a vodka tonic, but the Roommates had made a pitcher of mai tais. Dee poured me a glass, and as I took the first sip, my upper lip tingled. This was a kick-ass-strong drink, but well-timed.
"Want me to fix you up some popcorn, Sunshine?" she asked.
"I'd love that," I said, "but I need to take a quick shower first."
As I headed up the narrow staircase, Kay called after me, "And remember, you're welcome to stay in your altogethers after. If you want, of course. Up to you."
"Do it, Molly, do it!" Shelly yelled, and I heard the other Roommates shouting out their agreement.
I went up to my room and undressed, then back down to the bathroom where I placed my too-strong drink on the marble windowsill and pinned up my hair so it wouldn't get wet. While I showered, I reached out for my glass now and then, and by the time I stepped out of the shower, it was half empty, and I was totally feeling the buzz.
Out in the hallway, I stood in front of the full-length mirror and let down my hair. It had remained mostly dry, but the humidity frizzed it out, and I just ran my fingers through it to poof it out more and let it be as wild as it wanted to be. I considered putting on a dab of makeup, but decided I wanted to just be squeaky-clean and natural.
My glass now nearly empty, I navigated my unsteady way back down the twisting stairway and made my entrance without bothering to peek through the door first. The Roommates cheered and clapped and told me I was beautiful, and I basked in their attention, but I also I realized there were several more people in the room than there'd been before -- a few of whom I had never met.
For a second, I was unsure of myself and stood rooted to the floor until Bea came over with the mai tai pitcher and refilled my glass. She took me by the elbow, saying, "let's get y'all met up," and led me over to each new person for an introduction. Throughout the evening, Bea topped off my glass whenever it was nearly empty, and I don't quite remember what time I went to bed.
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