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Tales of the Second City: The Etiquette of Naked Dining

I have one friend who enjoys nothing more than hanging out at home… in more ways than one.

My partner originally met him online and they would get together for the occasional naked coffee at our place. Apparently, we crossed paths at the conclusion of one of these soirees, yet I have no recollection. This is surprising, as he should have made quite an impression, being the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with expressive eyes, a playful smile, and the softest hint of an Italian accent, which gets noticeably stronger when he phones his favourite pizzeria.

A beautiful man blessed with charisma and humour.

Back before we became acquainted, my partner told me about his friend who might need somewhere to stay whilst searching for new accommodation, “He would want to be naked around the house though,” I was warned. “Would that be okay?”

I pondered for a moment, “No, I don’t have problem with that.”

Friends and family were vying for invites when I told them about our impending houseguest. Sadly, circumstances changed. He never came to stay.

He has subsequently become an adored friend to us both… after inviting him over for naked dinner. I’d done Grindr meets, sex parties and saunas (plus trolling my milky complexion up and down many a nudist beach), but naked dining was a whole new ballgame.

“I’m sorry, but how does this work exactly?” I finally asked, “when do we take our clothes off? I’ve cranked up the heating AND lit the wood burner. I’m sweltering!”

After the initial awkwardness of undressing for dinner, it just felt like a normal social occasion. We stood in the kitchen chatting and drinking as food was prepared (keeping safe distance from spitting pans) then sat around the table like any other dinner party, albeit with obligatory photos of us posing with humorously positioned vegetables.

When I relayed our unique dining experience to a close colleague, she told me how her gentleman friend belonged to a naked rambling group and suggested I join their excursion to the Sussex Downs.

I was game for a day on a bluff in the buff, but there was one little thing that concerned me.

“What if I find one of the group attractive? I might not be able to hide the effects.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured me, “that’s not going to be an issue.”

As it turned out, my fellow ramblers put me in mind of a saucy postcard where two old ladies are sat at a bus stop when an equally elderly fella streaks by.

One woman asks, “Did you see that?!”

“Yes, I did,” her companion replies, “and it needed a jolly good iron.”

Observing my fellow ramblers trapsing naked through the countryside (a line of grey heads, paunches, and drooping bottoms), I turned to the chap next to me and commented, “I feel like I’m in a very strange episode of Dad’s Army.”

He laughed, “As the youngest here, does that make you Pike?”

“Very probably,” I replied, “and I have never needed his woolly scarf more than I do right now.”

The whole naked rambling event was a well-planned affair, as you can imagine a ten-mile naked trek through the East Sussex countryside would need to be to avoid undue attention.

Apparently, it is not illegal to be naked in public, it only becomes an issue should someone complain. A designated guide performs a recce of the route in advance to identify problem places, where the group might potentially worry the sheep or cause a dog walker to bristle with Daily Mail indignation. In anticipation of such encounters, we were instructed to carry a pair of ‘emergency pants’, which could be donned at a moment’s notice. A line of mature ramblers, parading past in nowt but their underwear, was somehow deemed less likely to attract attention.

“Nothing to see here, just out for a stroll in our skivyies,” our intrepid leader could declare. “Oh, and good afternoon vicar!”

I opted for modest pyjama bottoms.

I toughly enjoyed this unique afternoon of hiking hills, crossing streams, walking woods and meandering meadows in the company a dozen brazen older men. Two were in their late eighties! The rear view of a naked octogenarian straddling a stile is an image I’ll never forget… no matter how hard I try!

I am delighted to live in a world where splendidly unapologetic enthusiasts like this exist. You have to admire their balls… and believe me… I had ample opportunity.

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