Wild At Heart


I wore clothes to bed for the first time in a while.
It was a particularly cold night in this here middle of winter Australian season. I thought to myself, I’ll just rug up. Sleeping nude can sometimes leave a chill and the last thing I want is to catch a cold. 
So I compromised. I took off my pants and left my shirt on. I figure keeping my chest warm was more important than my legs. 
For the first moments in bed, I was restless. My body screamed. An itch would snake its way up my back, under my right shoulder blade. Around and around in circles it slithered, knowing full well it was beyond the grasp of my arms as I tried to ease the itch. 
I tossed and turned, turned and tossed. I could feel the shirt construct me. Could feel the heat off my skin cooking underneath. Something didn’t feel good. Something didn’t feel right.
And the more I rolled left and right, the more my t shirt twisted beneath me, limiting my movements further. 
Enough was enough – I sat up and tore off my shirt and threw it to the space beside my side of the bed.
The feeling of peeling off the t shirt. Revealing bare skin, the cool middle of the night air skimming every surface of my body, the fact that I was naked…
My mind was instantly transported back to my youth. I had snuck away from the house, deep into the bush where I would undress. And run through the shrubs, feeling the wind on my body and a sense of freedom. I would masturbate there after a run. Feel my bare cock grow beneath my hands.
In that moment, I wondered how other people, those who enjoy nakedness, felt when they peeled off the last layer of clothing and felt completely and utterly naked in the world. 
In that moment, I thought of how it might felt for a woman to unclasp her bra and feel her breasts freed? The gentle breeze on a nipple, the feeling of them swaying as they are released. How a man might feel the air on his bare cock, how it might feel to touch that. 
I was reminded of a moment in time again: I had put a winter jumper on my pug. Moments later, I returned to the back yard to see she had removed it. She didn’t want it.
I, too, am the animal. Wild at heart, wanting not to be bound by clothes. Wanting to feel the world around on my skin.
And I have learnt my lesson – always sleep nude. 

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7 thoughts on “Wild At Heart

  1. I love the imagery. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of air on your body, it’s an instant effect. As for wearing clothing in bed, that would be like wearing a parka for dinner; it just doesn’t feel right.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My thoughts exactly. Sometimes I can curl up in anything I’m wearing if I’m dog tired but more often then not, I’ve been sleeping naked for as long as I can remember.

      I’m glad I could get you to like the imagery!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. When I was younger I couldn’t ever see myself sleeping nude. But snuggling up to my husband with both of us naked is so bonding. If I could just keep my shoulders warm it would be perfect, even in the middle of summer they get cold.

    Like

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