DP:Swimming in the buff…

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/buff/

Quite!

My favourite type of exercise is swimming in the buff – or, as it is known more commonly, skinny-dipping. I love being naked – and, despite knowing that my body is not going to launch any ships (flatten them, yes!), am not self-conscious when unclad. The Life Modelling certainly helped in that respect.

But it is more than a lack of shame; it is a positive love of the senses, an adoration of the sensual variety of touch in particular. Water waving over limbs, stomach (and so forth) without the impediment of that ultimate passion killer, the swimming costume, can be immensely sexy, and comforting too: After all, we floated in liquid, butt-naked, for nine months in our mothers’ wombs: Sky-clad, or Pool-clad, is, if you think about it, our natural state!

Back in the Day – or Aberystwyth, as it is also called in my case! – I wriggled out of the impediment of material whenever I could and tad-poled my way around forest pools, lakes, the sea, with gay abandon. There is something unmistakably erotic about the whole thing, even down to the sand or grit incursion around the fundamentals; there is something truly primal, and wonderful, about that special softness of skin that follows a buff wallow in the watery depths; about the relaxation of  mind and limb; about the al fresco possibilities, for adult fun, that suggest themselves as one sports like an undulating dolphin and then lands, all passive softness and brackish warmth, upon land once more!

Ah! I remember once…

But, no; I have told this tale in ‘Come Laughing!’ – and there it must remain!

Frankly, my dears, you can keep your cute one-pieces and crotch-strangulating bikinis. I envy not your suggestive fragments of cloth which hide nothing or your bulging budgie-smugglers!

Give me a warmish day and a sparkling cauldron of water deep along a woodland path, and I’ll strip off in a trice and, buff as a bouncing bonny baby, leap joyously in, rapturously receiving the rivulets of cool water, the lazy lilies lying atop, the branches spilling their woody fragments over, and into, my very own nooks and crannies!

There is just something so animal, in the very best sense, about floating near the surface, sun stroking the wetness of belly and legs, hair floating out like, in my case, rusty seaweed…

Thus, with such sublime simplicity, is my Inner Siren released!

Oh yeah!