I experienced an overwhelming compulsion to jog nude at night in parks and elsewhere. The insatiable desire would get a hold of me around 8 or 9 p.m. and I could think of nothing else but my nude treks around Lake Hollingsworth that began around 11, sometimes midnight.
I would wait until most neighbors would be asleep; then sneak out the back with nothing on but shorts and tennis shoes. Then I'd run down to the park which circled the lake, take off my shorts and shoes and pack them behind a bush near a covered picnic area. That would begin my nightly nude trek when I'd be gone for 2 hours or more.
The full-knowledge that my clothes were packed away behind a bush a mile or two from where I'd be jogging produced more excitement. I suppose the risk of getting caught without a chance of recourse added a sense of fear mixed with erotic pleasure, because I fully realized if I'd been caught, my "established" life and career would be history. Since I knew there'd be a price to pay, it ironically made the adventure more appealing. Do you understand the logic?
But being totally liberated via the symbolic gesture of public nudity seemed worthwhile at the time. At least to me, in my state of mind that craved absolute freedom. Actually, there were many times, at least dozens, that I accepted the risk.
My adventures were in Orlando, Florida when residing there. So, it was "winter" when temperatures in Florida are about equal to what others experience in "summer," ideal for the sport!
"Streaking" became trendy at two or three intervals from the 70s through 90s. It was primarily a "male recreation"; females were reluctant due to obvious vulnerability, as one can reasonably understand. But males, for the most part, welcome unsolicited advances, especially when they advertise themselves by way of open nudity in public places. They can fend for themselves, unlike the other gender.
I was acquainted with a cop at the time, yes a policeman, who enjoyed running nude. One night he ran through the mall in Lakeland with nothing on but a helmet which concealed his identity. When asking witnesses to identify birthmarks or any other distinguishing feature, investigators could only get them to recall either his athletic ass or his well-endowed male equipment. One could understand from their testimonies where eyes were focused. Apparently that wasn't sufficient to locate the lawbreaker. So, the cop did it at least on five more occasions before "retiring" to another sport. I knew the guy; he was a laugh-a-minute with high integrity. He just enjoyed the sense of freedom experienced by baring all. I understand the feeling. And he loved to make others laugh. Streaking was simply a comedic outlet.
The lakes of Central Florida were also good cover. Municipal parks circle the many lakes that dot the towns and cities. When sensing danger of being caught, I would simply slide into the water. Yes, there were alligators. But few people are ever harmed. Honest. The Central Florida lakes are spring-fed and many are crystal clear as a result. Most of them are circular-shaped. Not many outsiders know this.
The "sport" including people of all backgrounds.
So, not only do we "sex perverts" enjoy running around naked, skinnydipping, or nudity outdoors, it's common among all classes and belief-systems, gay and straight. The only thing holding the trend back from becoming accepted permanently is the prude element in the world -- those that demand their narrow moral standards imposed on others, to where they become universal -- for all people.
While nudity is not immoral per se, the prudes of this world believe it's a gate to the immoral -- since the sex organs are visible which send out undeniable signals of arousal and/or lack thereof.
"Body language" takes on a whole new dimension when nude. Especially for males of the species. LOL! No healthy man can hide the fact he's aroused by the appearance of an object of attraction when in the au natural condition. I guess that's why society has forbidden the naturist state from the public arena: Vulnerability. Vulnerability leads to embarrassment and embarrassment leads to shame and humans can't tolerate the mere thought of shame. Some had rather die first. Cover-ups are extensions of self-righteousness, prudishness and false-pride.
And then there's the question of truth and truthfulness. With nudity, there's nothing to hide. One has to be honest in that state; a "truth serum" is unnecessary. If we were all truthful, there'd be nothing to cover-up, would there be? Coming out of the closet is similar to coming out of one's clothes, when relying on that point of view. Baring all physically is symbolic of baring all mentally, psychologically, and spiritually. In that sense, it's an expression of honesty. "Thou canst not then be false to any man."
My experience of night-streaking are similar to others -- dodging traffic, avoiding getting caught, and making a game out of it for long periods of time until the trend fades or the person takes on other pursuits.
One common characteristic that streakers exhibited was the sense of joy and laughter. If one thinks about being naked outside where others could see them, it is funny. I was laughing nearly the whole time I was out in the condition, thinking that if I did get caught, how the hell would law enforcement be able to identify me without any documents? When interrogated, I could just plead the Fifth.
But of all the guys who indulged in the same streaking fads, none to my knowledge was ever charged. Policemen, for the most part, just laughed it off as harmless. Because they're human too.
One night as I was streaking around Crystal Lake, two guys spotted me as they were sitting in their parked car. They had their windows down and yelled at me from a distance, "Hey, you! Nude dude! Come over here a minute so we can get a better look at ya."
At first, I felt like jumping in the lake, but then the tone of the invitation intrigued me. So, I stopped jogging and slowly walked across the parking lot to their car. "What's up?" I asked nonchalantly.
"Oh, nothin'. We're just out here enjoying nature -- getting away from our bitchin' wives for a bit." (Long pause as he inspects my body) "So, what's it feel like naked outside at night?"
"Well, to be honest.... It feels GREAT! It's like taking a dare, except better. I get more exercise this way 'cause I run harder to escape anyone who could see me. Nobody's ever caught me yet."
"Come over closer so we can see you better."
I stepped over to the driver's door. They both smiled, then burst out laughing. I joined them. It was really funny to imagine a naked guy standing next to some strangers' vehicle shooting the bull in the middle of the night.
All at once, the driver reached down and grabbed my cock unexpectedly.
"Now, how's that feel, naked boy? You like that?"
"Well, yeah. It feels good." My cock was swelling inside his hand. He then used his other hand to grab my butt muscles.
"And how's that feel, streaker? You have a nice bod."
Looking inside, I could see the guy on the passenger side snickering. Both of them wore wedding rings which confirmed what was first explained. They needed an excuse to escape the nagging wives for a break; so they had each other as best buds for alibis. They both had been drinking; the smell was obnoxious.
It was dark outdoors except for the moon and a few lights which dotted the park circling the lake and the water reflecting the moon.
The driver finally let go of my swollen cock. I stepped back, and the door opened. He stepped out and faced me. "Hey, I wanna try that. You want to go for it, Jack?"
"No, Dan, you can. I'm good."
So, Dan sat down again in the driver's seat, removed his shoes and socks, then stood up, slid his T-shirt over his head, unbuttoned his pants and dropped them and his underwear to the asphalt. Then he tossed his clothes in the back-seat.
"Yeehawwww! This feels gooooood! Goddam! Hey, Jack, you gotta try this. It's different from being naked at home. Much better."
"All right, Dan, just a minute."
So, Jack stripped in a hurry, piling his clothes in the back-seat beside Dan's.
Dan removed the keys from the ignition, then slid them under the rear tire. Next he went around the car locking all the doors. No turning back now.
"Now what do we do?" Dan turned to me and asked.
"I guess you can just jog with me around the lake if you want."
"Naw, we're not runners. What else can we do?"
"Skinnydip in the lake? Walk? I don't know." I gave up. "What do you want to do, guys?" I asked.
"How about this?" Dan abruptly grabs my cock again, then moves his other hand up the crevice of my crack. He and Jack are laughing loudly again.
"Now, this is not exactly what I had in mind, guys. Streaking is a sport, a method of exercise. Not a sexual position," I explained with a smile.
Jack came from behind and joined his friend in feeling my bod. "Nice!" Jack commented. I was in excellent shape, I admit. But three naked guys in a public park at night was not the best situation in which to be apprehended by the cops. I could just envision being hauled in the back-seat of a cop car with two other naked guys, one on each side. And then the reaction at the precinct station!
I suggested, "Why don't we walk over behind those trees so we can't be seen, okay?"
They nodded in agreement, so we passed the covered picnic area to a clump of trees and bushes.
That's when the two so-called straight guys went wild. Was it because they were drunk? Or because they lived in a state of denial? Whatever. They seemed experienced in the gay department; probably were lovers who both married for convenience.
Jack asked me my name finally before we got down to business. I was grateful for a little bit of courtesy.
Dan asked, "Why don't we get down in the grass and wrestle? That'd be fun."
All three of us started wrestling on the wet grass. It felt great against our bare skin. We slid into various positions. Dan got a lock on my head while Jack pinned me down at the lower end. Then Dan slid his throbbing cock in my mouth. "Take all of it, you mother-fucker. All the way down your faggot throat." He forced his dick down to where it rubbed my tonsils.
Meanwhile Jack was getting my ass ready by prying my anal cavity with his rough fingers, then using spit as lube. I was lying in the grass on my belly with my head tilted while giving head when I felt Jack's monstrous cock penetrating my ass. I screamed in pain, then it subsided as I adjusted to his enlarged organ.
Dan, meanwhile, was moaning in pleasure as he was pumping his cock down my throat. I had my hands around his asscheeks.
Dan said to Jack, "Let's time this thing to go off together, K? I want to cum at the same time as you."
Jack started humping me doggie-style. His thrusts were powerful and his huge cock felt like it was penetrating up to my stomach. Dan's member was going in and out of my mouth, but high-tide was all the way down my throat. I could taste the salty precum and noticed the strands of honey stretched from my mouth to his cockhead as he withdrew at ebb-tide.
Then I felt Dan's butt muscles tighten up as he groaned in delight. At the tailend I felt Jack's legs tighten simultaneously.
"I'm about to cum, Jack," Dan announced. He thrust his male organ all the way in; his pubes tickled my nose and face; his hairy balls were bouncing against my chin. Jack's cock was plunged all the way in me; I could feel his ballsack slapping my lower backside -- a sign that he had penetrated me all the way.
All of a sudden both men let out loud growls as Dan squirted his load down my throat and Jack shot spasms of hot jizm that bathed my intestines. I was FUCKED!
Dan pulled out but wasn't finished. More ropes of white fuck shot out all over my face, hitting my right eye, nose and cheeks. His buddy didn't pull out, though, but kept his pulsating member deep inside me until he was completely drained. I could feel waves of hot liquid bathe my insides.
We lay there a few more minutes to relax. I hadn't cum yet but waited 'til I got home. The other guys were totally spent, ready to crash.
We walked back to the car. My face was still covered with Dan's cum. I couldn't see out of my right eye. In fact, my eyelid was sort of glued shut from his fuck. It actually felt sort of cool. Jack suggested, "Hey, you look sort of fuck-faced, pal. Let me help you out."
Jack stepped up to me and started licking Dan's fuck off my face. It was one of the most erotic episodes of the night. I couldn't believe he was doing this, but it felt great.
After returning to the car, we shook hands, exchanged phone numbers, and they drove off back to their bitchin' wives.
We got together a few more times after that, but not in the park naked at night. The first experience was certainly the best, not because of its "newness" but because of its "nudeness." It was the sense of total freedom, breaking the rules, and doing what comes natural outdoors that made it exhilarating.
I will never forget my adventures of being the Nude Dude at Night.
------------------------------------------------------------ NOTE: The above story is written as a true story, although embellished to a degree for dramatic purposes and edited somewhat to discretely protect identity.
Written 6/6/6
If interested, write to MtWhiteRock@aol.com Derek Hammil