That Wonderful Smell.. Of Your Pee!??

Ahh… The wonderful moment when You smell the Aroma of Fresh-Brewed Coffee…

…Then you realize that aroma is coming from your pee…

WAIT! WHAT??

You mean You do not find enjoyment in everything you do in life? You do not learn, laugh, and understand why your pee is suddenly scented, or colored differently?? Oh how you are missing out on some great parts of life…

You know how it is: You are not really focusing on the fact that you are peeing, you smell fresh-brewed coffee, smile, and enjoy the aroma. It is wonderful. It delights your nostrils, makes you smile, and gives you that feeling of “What a beautiful morning!” Then you laugh. You laugh and wonder how many others have done the same thing? You wonder if you are the only one who notices your pee smells just like whatever you have recently consumed. You begin to think that you have never before heard anyone else ever mention this. But do they notice, and just never say anything, or do they not notice?

Ever notice what your pee smells like? Could it be I am The only one who notices such aromas? Could it be because I often pee in places that others do not? (But that is an entirely different post… it will be titled “The Places We Go”) I tend to be very attuned to my surroundings, and smell, or scents play a key factor in my daily life, the memories, and even the feel of any given moment. Who sez going pee needs to be just a necessary chore of life? I say, enjoy it, and find all there is to learn about the body in the process! Also, in addition to noticing the scent, have you ever noticed how your pee is colored differently, depending on what you have consumed? (Yeah, yeah… it is yellow… but there are Soooo many wonderful shades, hues, tints, and brightness of yellow!)

You Know you have had either the perfect amount of coffee, (or possibly too much!) when you go pee, and the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee rises up to greet your nostrils. The aroma of Coffee is usually a welcome aroma… even when you realize it is coming from your pee. But there are other items we consume which scent your pee as well. Some are delightful, and some are not so pleasant.

One of the funniest (surprising) aromas I can remember is the time I ate an entire bag of Funyuns. You know… those onion-ring shaped “Chips” (for lack of better description), that have  a sweet-onion flavor, are super salty, and once you eat one, you cannot stop until that bag is entirely gone! 

Well, after I ate that entire bag, the aroma from my pee was not entirely as delectable as the original flavor and aroma when they were still in chip-form. It was quite comical, though, because it was unmistakable as the aroma that eating Funyuns would create! Sure, the smell was still of onions, even sweet, too. But it also had quite an overwhelming pungency…. But not in a bad way. It is really difficult to describe, so I guess you’d just hafta try it for yourself!  And be prepared to laugh at yourself, and how the amazing human body processes all we take-in, and how different items completely change the chemistry in our bodies.

There are soo many other foods, beverages, etc that change the chemistry in our own bodies. Take, for example, Pineapple (or pineapple juice ) on how it is used to help change the way …umm, shall we say “taste”? (Yes, of course I am gonna dare go there!) Perhaps you have not heard of this… Let’s say you happen to enjoy various activities with your partner, activities which may involve your mouth, and their… umm, shall we just say “regions down there”. Many people do not like how a person tastes, but pineapple juice changes the chemistry, making it more “tolerable”. Of course, there are many other “flavorings” which work, too, but this is one that is more-widely known than some of the others. The point is that almost anything we consume Does change how the body smells, tastes, even sometimes feels. (Of course, it would be simple to apply something topically to change the scent, flavor, or feel… but that is like putting salt on the rim of your favorite Margarita… it is only on the edge, the flavor in the cup is still the same. If the margarita is not a good flavor, the salt only goes so far to cover it. If the flavor is changed from within, then you need not lick the rim to enjoy the cup… you can simply go enjoy the cup, and not worry about where the salt is not covering… or if you will run out of salt before you finish the cup.)

Enough about that area… let me get back to my original thought on the way our pee is scented.

Other foods which I have noticed create some particularly pleasant aromas, even more-fun colors, would include large quantities of popcorn, pretzels, nuts, chips, and cheeses. Even pizza, or bread-sticks loaded with butter, seasonings, and other flavorings! If you notice, most of these are high in salt. I have concluded that somehow the salt plays an important part in getting these scents into the urine, whereas other less-salty foods may have slight scents in the urine, they are not as noticeable. With the popcorn, it is especially fun to discover how the different flavors we often add to our popcorn creates various smells. Popcorn, all by itself is wonderful! But add lots of butter, and suddenly you have a smell of sweet, salty fresh buttered-popcorn! Make your popcorn cheesy, and you end-up with a wonderful aroma of cheesy popcorn! Of course, on the topic of cheeses: If you enjoy cheese, you know there are so many choices, and each is suited for its own occasion. You know how strong, or sharp, or smoky various cheeses are to the taste. Now imagine how much those same features become very prominent in your pee! Like smoky cheeses? Your pee will have a wonderful smoky aroma. Like Jalapeno cheeses? Yup! Jalapeno-pee! Like Extra sharp cheese? Yup… you get a very strong, sharp scent in your pee! How about nuts? 

(The ones that grow in nature, not the ones grown as part of a male’s anatomy!~ ugh, you all have such dirty minds… Oh, wait… I Do Too!) Every kind of nut creates its own scent. Don’t believe me? I guess you need to experiment for yourself! Keep in mind, I am talking large quantities of any of the above foods, not simply a handful, or nibble.

On the topic of beverages, Of course Coffee is high on the list of ones creating pleasant aromas. But almost any beverage would do the same if consumed in large quantities. Try various flavors of tea. How about your favorite fruit-juices? I like Cranberry Juice. But I only notice the smell appears when I drink it hot. Yup, just warm it in a mug in the microwave, and drink it like a tea... ~Ahhh, heavenly! And of course the smell is unbeatable as it scents your pee! Yup, even alcohol will be Very obvious in the scent of your pee. (Even tho’ I never drink any more, and it has been a very long time since I did experiment with alcohol.) I learned from my own experiences, plus by being near others when they pee’d.

I know I am not the only one whose urine is scented like what has been consumed, but the few times I have ever mentioned this to anyone else, they seem to think it is the craziest thing they have ever heard-of! I have often been around others when they pee, and have mentioned what scent I smelled, and they thought that was weird. I am always wondering why others do not notice their scent(s). I wonder if my sense of smell, or my awareness if it is different, or if it is simply that they never paid attention. I tend to pay attention to details many do not, and often those who notice what I observe are amazed. I tend to think the scent of urine detection is in that category. It seems that few notice it, and those few who do, would rather not admit, or discuss that they do.  

I have never been offended just because someone pees. Sure, it is often embarrassing, or somehow humiliating to either see anther go, or to have them see you… but as long as it is happening, might as well enjoy it, right? (I will address this topic more in the soon-to be posted topic of “The Places We Go”)

How about you? Have You Ever noticed what scents your pee has? Would you admit it if you did? Have you purposely consumed certain foods, or beverages to see what it would change? (And if you have not, … I am betting you will soon… !)

Meanwhile, I think I will have another cup of coffee…  Happy Pee-ing Everyone! ~=:-)
A Caution!: As if this whole writing isn't gonna already be a tad-off-color... I do not wanna totally shock ya. This Next Picture might be considered a bit more shocking. Yes, I am nekkid in this picture, but nothing is visible... except the coffee cup... I think it is funny, and fits this topic quite well, but if you aren't sure you wanna see me covered only by a coffee mug, then perhaps, either enter with an open mind, or closed eyes... Or just don't scroll any further. 

May You consume what gives you wonderful smiles as you pee... :)

I picked up a HitchHiker, Part 2

Only Once have I ever Picked-up A Hitchhiker:

This is the second-part of The One and Only time I ever picked-up a Hitchhiker. To fully grasp all that has happened to get to this point, please read the first part. You are welcome to read only this part… your choice, but you will not grasp all the importance of these events…

~~~~~ A Word of caution about the following events described in this post:Some people may find this to be a VERY disturbing writing. Just the feelings that came to me, and reminded me of this time in my life are extremely difficult to allow to surface again. Beginning to blog, just over a year ago was an Incredibly hard decision. The idea that I was actually going to allow myself to relive the events that have shaped so much of my life was therapeutic. The idea that I would finally put these into writing was hard to grasp. The idea that I would actually allow another to be able to see some of what I have kept a secret for most of my life is even more difficult. Why, you might ask, am I writing these events? And more importantly, Why would I allow them to be public? Simple: Some of the greatest help I have received in dealing with my own struggles is that which came from someone who had also been through a similar situation. Finding one person who can relate, and make you understand that things happen, and those things are what makes us into the person we later become, it all it takes to plant the seed of hope. I have been given that courtesy by others, and I have also given that hope to others. By choosing to actually find the words to put into writing, and make it available for anyone who might need that connection, understanding, or support, Then That Is Why I write my life’s events, and allow them to be viewed by others.

In No way would I want someone to begin reading this without knowing it confronts and deals with subjects many are not comfortable reading about. Just searching to put the feelings into words is an emotional roller coaster. Writing about the struggles, fears, shame, and imprisonment often heaped upon victims of sexual molestation, victims of rape, and victims of anything that would make people feel insecure, dirty, or even ashamed of their own body, the naked body, normal functions of the body, or anything that would normally be seen as sexual is one of difficulty. These topics are also often forbidden in society, so it makes it even harder to write about them without being too offensive, or even considered too graphic.

Often, just allowing anyone to even know what I have been through is embarrassing, and could be humiliating. People are mean, and often just allowing myself to be vulnerable by sharing what I feel, what I’ve battled, and how I view things is a hard choice. Fear is crippling. But Freedom is far greater. I strive for freedom daily. Sometimes, just allowing some “secret” part of my life to finally be released takes away the self-imposed (or often society-imposed) imprisonment.

The following events involving the picking up of a hitchhiker made me confront and deal with topics I wished did not exist. I hate more than anything in this world that people will harm another. It is amazing, though, how by allowing yourself to help another when they are in need, you often are shown how to deal with your own fears, insecurities, and overcome some of your own greatest barriers in life. It makes me wonder: Did God Place the hitchhiker in my path to help her, Or To help Me? While the underlying causes of the events below are horrific, Know I will not take you to that place. I will show you how those events took many people, myself included, to one of The most Positive, Most Rewarding places One could ever hope for. Good Truly does come from what is thought to be bad.

This event, involving the hitchhiker Does in Fact cover some Very Graphic, Very horrific feelings. Be warned, and know I discuss Rape, Molestation, and so many other Topics which are Some of The Most Difficult to confront in life. (At least for me, they are difficult.) If you Read Further, Know You Will read details about The human anatomy (yes, My own, and others, too), reactions (often considered to be sexual by many, but NOT intended that way by me), and some Very Private, Very Personal  Issues. I do not wish to discourage anyone from reading, learning, and understanding, But I DO Want to Be sure You Understand the content may be offensive. Please, As You Read Further, Enter With an Open Mind… Or With Closed Eyes. ~~~~~ (Enough about cautions, let’s get back to the event of The Hitchhiker!)  

I crashed-out in a solid sleep almost as soon as I laid down. I did not bother to put any clothes on for sleep this time. This was not the way I normally slept.  At this point, I had only slept naked occasionally, but not often, and was not used to sleeping naked… especially with a girl in the apartment, where I might have a reaction, or somehow cause alarm. I also was cautious usually about if anyone might walk-in with my door always unlocked, and not ever wanting to allow those I knew to ever see me naked. But this night was different. I was not concerned about naked one bit. I thought I would be up, showered, go get my laundry, and be dressed before anyone else in the building was up, and also before I woke up Laura. I figured the girls would transfer my clothes to the dryers, then leave them there for me to gather in the morning. I figured I would be dressed, and have Laura’s clothes next to her bed so when I woke her, she would feel comfortable, and not exposed. I was not worried, and surprisingly comfortable and relaxed about sleeping naked this time. I had not felt this comfortable sleeping naked since I was a kid at Gramma’s house. It was a good feeling.

Oh, did I ever sleep solid! Nothing could have disturbed me. When my alarm went off, I realized I was not alone, was naked, had another naked hum laying on top of me, and was being held intimately close by another human. (And I could tell this human and myself were Very …shall we say… Close!)  I was groggy, and not yet awake enough to grasp all this. It was so seldom that I ever had another person in my bed, that it took me a moment to clear the fog from my mind, and really figure it out. It also took me a moment to grasp that I was on the living room floor, and not in my bed. That is when I recalled what had occurred the night before, and that Laura must have awakened during the night, and come to join me while I slept. I also could smell that she had showered, plus brushed her teeth, too. I could feel her face just inches from mine, watching me come to life, but that too was not a bad thing. As I focused my eyes, and looked at the face barely inches from my own, sure enough the face right next to mine and the arms that were wrapped around me, and the rest of the body that was almost-one with mine were attached to her. I was trying to grasp why I was waking up naked, and intimately close to someone I did not know. Laura was there, smiling, holding me close with both arms wrapped comfortably around me, and watching me wake up. I could feel she was naked, too. To say I was bit confused would be an understatement. She was definitely more awake than I was, and could see my fogged-brain attempting to make sense of this. She waited until I registered it was her, and saw me smile, then gave me a kiss. It was not a kiss as in wanting romance, or attempting anything else. It was a kiss of gratitude, trust, and thanks. This too was new for me. Seldom have I been kissed by anyone who was not seeking more, (it took me back to when I was a kid, and the best-friend I had then!) It was wonderful! She did not say a word, just smiled and held me as I slowly got my brain in gear. Her smile, the way she held me, and the kiss said more than any words possibly could have!

She watched as my fogged-brain slowly got into gear. She ran her fingers gently across my face, seeming to want to memorize every feature. Her touch, and the way she traced my features felt like this was already comfortable and familiar to her, almost as if she had done this before. I sensed that she may have touched me while I was sleeping, and she was so safe, (plus The fact that I was zonked-out) that she did not disturb me, or set off any of my ‘alarms’, by entering my safe-zone, told me all was safe and good. I have learned to trust what presents itself in a safe manner, even if it is new to me. Her touch also felt as if she was not simply touching me, but wanting to feel what I felt from the inside, understand, and grasp the energy, and spirit within me. As I woke, I realized even more to my horror, I had gone to sleep naked, and noticed I had awakened with ‘morning wood’ and not only could she feel every bit of it, but also that she was in a position that I could feel every bit of her! Even with what had happened with the girls downstairs last night, at this point in my life, the last thing I ever wanted was for anyone to Ever see (or feel!) it! I was mortified. I almost freaked-out, and got some space between us. But in the seconds I was coming alert and grasping all that I was feeling, I noticed she was definitely completely aware of my reaction, and not only welcomed it, but seemed to ‘embrace’ it. I knew instantly that This time, it was not shameful, or anything I should be mortified about, even Knew this was a completely good thing right now. This was confusing to me, but I accepted it, even wondered if I could just enjoy it. She had managed to make me more comfortable than almost any person I’d ever allowed to notice, see, or especially feel such a reaction. (The exception would be the ones I grew up with, and was close with as a child, but none since the age of 12.) The way she had positioned herself against me made it so I was, shall we say, umm… literally I could have been having sex with her! (but she showed me without doing anything more, that it was in no way intended as sexual.) She was not in any way harming me, nor doing anything offensive. She was not taking advantage of me in any way, and certainly not doing anything that I would later wish she had not. I was conflicted, yet knew I needed to not freak out. I was not inside of her, but was perfectly aligned between the folds of her Vulva. I also could feel that she had shaved while in the shower. She did a good job, and was not stubbly, but very smooth. I also could tell that she had reapplied powder to herself, plus applied some to me so there was no roughness between us, especially against her tenderness in and around her vagina. She was not rubbing in any way, just snug against me so we each were fit nicely together. I also could feel that the energy from her vagina was not in any way that of desiring sex. I cherished this feeling, and energy. I understood exactly what she desired, and how my penis against her like this was healthy. I felt Very humbled that I could be the one she chose, and was beyond happy to the deepest part of my soul that We could help each other. She was watching my face, and seemed to know what I was realizing. As she noticed what I was feeling, she pressed herself closer (I had thought we were as close as could be, but she pressed those parts closer…, more umm, wrapped, more snugly fitting, and even so I could feel more of her, umm shall we say ‘warmth and tenderness’?), so as to assure me that it was in fact intentional for her to be where she could feel so much of me like this, and likewise so I could feel that her swelling had gone down, and she was welcoming this contact in a soothing, comforting kind of way. I was not accustomed to having someone umm, be so intimate with me like this. I could tell she was not trying to sneakily get me inside of her, but rather to hold as close as possible. To allow us each to feel a positive energy from sources we each usually were repulsed by. She had carefully aligned my penis so I in no way entered her, although it would have been easy to shift slightly by either of us, and simply have that happen. I understood how she purposely placed us so close, yet she understood I would not make it go further. After the way I helped ease her discomfort last night, she knew I would in no way do her wrong when I simply could at that moment. Yet she wanted to feel every bit as was possible in this way.

She started crying, but not a sad cry. She was crying a happy cry, yet also a bit from pain, too. I could tell she was still very sore, and tender down there, and when she pressed herself closer, she winced a bit, even flinching, almost pausing down there before she accepted the pain, and welcomed the 'embrace' as she so delicately made it happen. (For me, describing Any of this is extremely difficult, and even often mortifying. Just the mention, or thought of mentioning my own reaction is often something that is extremely difficult for me to allow myself to accept. It is hard, for me, to describe without getting too graphic, or even mentioning some of my own mortification.) She winced, and flinched every time she felt my ....umm... 'pulsing, or... umm... let's say 'throbbing'. (Man, That was hard for me to say!) But I understood the significance of her 'embracing' in this manner. It was good for both of us, and for equally meaningful ways to cope, heal, and move forward. 

She softly told me everything that was going through her mind: (of course, I am paraphrasing, because I likely do not recall every word she said verbatim.)

“Thank you. Last night, you made me feel so special. Before I met you, I swore I could never find any good in any man, or any penis ever again. I was scared when you backed-up, but I knew You were the one I needed to allow myself to be seen by. Dozens of other drivers slowed, and looked similar to how you did, but they could not see me, and proceeded onto the freeway. When you first looked at me, I knew you were going to stop. I froze, and got nervous, but did not flee. Then you shined your light my way, and still did not see me. Only once you backed-up, and I looked right at you, could you see me. Then I knew. I knew you would not hurt me, and actually would understand, and help me. But I was not sure what I was supposed to do. So I just asked God to have you lead the way. You must have asked Him for the same, because you did exactly that, and I never once felt scared.”

“When you pulled off the freeway under the overpass, My first instinct was to be afraid, but I knew I was safe. I did not know what you were going to do, but you knew how to explain, and help me. I saw you, too, were scared to be seen naked. I was terrified when you first got naked, but I still knew this was just programmed fears every time I ever saw a penis. But I saw you were shaved down there, and immediately thought you were some sort of sexual pervert, yet I knew this was not true. I had never before seen a shaved man. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. Yet, I also knew you were in no way like any other I had ever met. I knew I could trust you. Then I watched you. You never once got aroused, or looked at me like others with a penis would have. Then when you even offered to turn off all the lights so as to not make me so visible when you removed my wet clothes, I knew you understood.”

“ You thought I was shivering from cold, but I was trembling with fear. Yes, I was cold, too, but the fear outweighed any feeling of cold. You made sure to not feed that fear. I watched your eyes as you undressed me. You never once looked at me like I was something for you to get your jollies with at my expense. I knew you could tell what had happened to me, but you never acted like I was the freak, or should be ashamed. Then when you went to towel me off, I looked again at your penis. You still were not aroused. I kept staring because it looked so strange without hair, but I did not want to have you notice me staring, or to make you uncomfortable. I almost smiled, because it was so unusual, and so were you. You were not aroused, even still. I waited and watched. I watched your hands and your eyes as you toweled me off. When you reached to hug me, I actually felt comfort with your penis being right in front of me. Then as you hugged and explained, I could feel your penis against me, and I did not mind. Then when you removed my top, and your penis was between my boobs, I actually felt a positive energy from it. I was certain with your penis rubbing my boobs, you would arouse, yet you did not even look at me like I was naked.”

“You Showed me from the very first moment you understood, and also that you could feel more in the dark about a person than could be seen by vision, or the normal sense of touch. I was still trembling, because I knew you would be able to ‘feel’ the wrong that had been done to me down there. Yet, I allowed myself to move my covering towel so you could continue. I was not worried that you would know. In watching your eyes, and feeling how you moved, I felt that you could feel it, yet you did not once look like I was dirty, look horrified.”

“Your touch and care made me accept and welcome your willingness to sooth me in that way. The first moment you began to clean my butt, I felt relief. Then when you moved forward, Oh it hurt so much! I wanted to kick you for even beginning to dry me there! I thought I never wanted it touched, ever again. I did flinch when it hurt so bad when you toweled me off there, and you wanted to stop, so you would not hurt me. Then when you held that towel so firmly against me, I thought I would scream from the pain, yet you knew, and I could tell you knew how to help me. I could feel you releasing all the tension. Then even more when you pushed that towel inside, and held the pressure. I would have thought any touch, especially a firm pressure would be horrific, but you knew. You released the built-up tension, you took all the bad energy and got rid of it. Then you gently cleaned me in a way that was the most delicate I had ever experienced. I thought that, too would be horribly painful, but the contrast of the cool wet cleansing wipes and your warm fingers inside me were a new level of comfort, and even more release of the bad energy.”

“Again, I was amazed that a touch from any man could be welcomed, and even comforting. I forgot about the pain. I welcomed your gentle cleaning, and even allowed the warmth of your fingers to give me warmth. I felt every bit where your fingers touched me inside. It hurt. It also helped. Your touches in there seemed to fill me with a warm, positive energy that made the negative feeling flee. Your touches were not like any form of groping, or to see what you could feel. Your touches were safe. You gave me hope. You took away my fears. I was for that moment able to forget all the horrors.”

“I finally was allowed to sleep. I cannot remember the last time I actually could let myself relax and actually sleep. You gave me safety. I did not have to worry where you would take me, or what would happen. I was just finally allowed to sleep. When I woke up earlier this morning, I was not sure where I was, I was naked, but knew I was safe. Then I felt the baby powder down there, and was so happy that you had taken such good care of me, and taken away so much of my suffering. I did not feel vulnerable getting out of the bed naked. I did not even first look around to see where I was, or who was near. I knew I was safe. I used the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, feeling a freedom I had never before felt. I showered, then saw you had even placed a toothbrush out for me!”

“I went to go climb back in bed, but decided to look around a bit. I saw that you had placed me in your own bed, then made a separate bed for yourself. You truly made sure I was not threatened in any way. You understood how bad it would be for me to wake next to a man in a strange bed. I saw that you, also were sleeping soundly, and felt completely safe. You did not even stir, or wake when I used the bathroom, or stood looking at you. I saw a stack of folded clothes and blankets by the front door, and saw my clothes were washed and folded there also. I was tempted to put my clothes on and flee before you woke, but I knew I was safe, and should stay. I also noticed you left your front door unlocked, so I knew you were safe. I opened the door and looked into the corridor. It also felt safe, even with me standing in the opening naked. I knew you and your home were where I needed to stay until you were ready to have me leave.”

“Normally, I would be terrified any time I saw a naked man. But with you, I hoped you still were, so I lifted your covers to see. I found myself smiling, instead of terrified to see your penis. Then I smiled more when I recalled how I first felt when I saw it last night. I watched your penis for a while, and felt safe, happy. Your penis was the first I had ever seen that did not harm me. I knelt beside you and placed my hand on your thigh, right next to your penis, just like you had let me do last night. You knew how to allow me to find my own level of comfort, unforced, unsolicited. I remembered how shocked I was when I accidentally touched it last night, but then realized how it also did not feel bad. I screwed up the courage to allow my hand to move onto it, not grabbing, or stroking it, simply just resting gently on it. I felt the energy you have. I even allowed myself to gently hold your testicles, and was surprised I did not find fear there either. I found I was trembling at first, but also only because of my own fears, not because of you. I was not even worried that I might cause a reaction, but I was very happy to find that I did not. I held you, and even traced the edges of it for a moment more, just gently allowing myself to touch a safe penis. You did not react at my touches. I covered you up again, and returned to the bed in your room.”

“After a moment, I decided instead to come and join you. I grabbed the bottle of baby powder. I did not even hesitate to be naked, and climb in next to a naked man. This, too, surprised me, because I swore I could never be near a man or especially a penis ever again. I powdered you, and allowed myself to touch more freely what otherwise would horrify me. You did not wake, but now my touches aroused you, and I was actually happy about that, not afraid. I had not intended to cause arousal, but found I was pleased when it happened. Even your penis has wonderful energy. It is not an aroused, sexual energy, but an energy no words can describe. I was happy to have you aroused, because I knew that while penises of bad men had caused me pain, your penis could actually help me. For reasons I do not understand, I told myself that allowing your penis to be as close as possible would be good for me. I thought this was the craziest idea I ever had, and tried to talk myself out of it, but something made me feel I needed to embrace this moment. I did not want to in any way violate you, because you were careful to not violate me, and I could tell that you valued that far more than any man ever did.”

“When I showered before joining you, I could not get enough hot water or soap, or enough scrubbing to ever remove the awful feeling down there. Then I saw your razor and shaving cream in the shower. I remembered that you were shaved, and I thought it was odd. Then it hit me. You, too, have been treated wrongly, and while no amount of soap, or water, or scrubbing could ever remove that feeling, removing all the hair might be very cleansing. I imagined how delicate and thorough you would be in taking care of the shaving if you were the one shaving me, and shaved myself in the same way. I have never before shaved down there, only occasionally trimmed, but not even often at that. I cut myself often, not knowing the technique, but I was excited to continue. But the completely smooth feeling does an incredible job at removing the feeling associated with what has happened down there. Feeling cleansed by removing the hair, then feeling you as you got aroused, I knew I needed to embrace that energy, and closeness.”

“I knew you might object, or be embarrassed to have me feel your arousal, since that was not what your intentions were. I also figured out that you had been similarly harmed, and that any unwanted arousal, or touch cold be as bad for you as for me. I knew I could give you the same level of trust and comfort that you provided me. I hoped you would not freak-out before you had a chance to understand what I was doing. I hoped once you woke and realized I was not going to hurt you, you would welcome it.  As you woke, I could first see the way your first reaction was to get away, but I saw also how you quickly felt the same thing I did, and in seconds accepted and welcomed me in this way. Having you like this right now does more positive than any amount of soap, or scrubbing could ever do. The energy you have is very comforting, very healing, and even against my bruises, cuts, and scrapes, the tenderness does not hurt, but instead is comforting, healing, and safe. I feel your penis against my vagina is the most-healthy thing I could have done to move forward. I hoped you would not object. I meant you no harm. I knew it was a risk, and selfish, too, but I felt it was right. Just like you helped me to not feel embarrassed last night, I want to be sure and give the same comfort and trust to you. I was tempted to just feel you for as long as I could until you began to wake, then quickly move away, or leave your bed so you would not know, but I knew you deserved to not only know, but to also feel what I had felt, and you would welcome it, and it would be mutual, instead of just selfish on my part.”

She had let all her worries and thoughts flow. She was happy to have safety and comfort. Now, she just smiled and looked into my eyes. When I first saw those eyes on the freeway ramp, I saw a completely different look, but there was also hope. Now that hope is not a distant vision in those eyes, but a bright feature.

In answer, I wrapped my arms around her, and held her tight. I kissed her in the same way she had kissed me. We both felt the same gratitude, and thanks. She only initially caused alarm and the reaction to be “mortifying”, but I was reacting on pre-programmed fears, much as she had when she saw my penis the first time.

It was rare, but I actually did not wish the reaction to go away. This was strange, too… that I would willingly allow someone to either see, or feel me reacting, and enjoy it myself, too! Also strange was that this reaction was not one where I felt I would orgasm, or in any way like it would lead to the dreaded feeling I get with sex, or an orgasm. I did not know what she had or had not done prior to my waking. But every inch of my entire body felt as if it had been somehow touched with a magic energy. It was not a feeling as if I was just feeling good, or that the closeness and trust caused. It was not a feeling that the kiss(es) caused. It was not even a feeling associated with any reaction, or the closeness of us to embrace that. It was a feeling as if something (someone) had purposely taken the loving time and care to feel, touch, and understand every single inch of my body. It was a feeling that one gets after you have shared a treasured time allowing someone to have the freedom to do as they pleased, when they truly wanted to know everything there was to know, feel, and understand about you. But unless she volunteered what had been done before I woke, I would not make her uncomfortable by asking. I suspected that she had not just traced my face. The feelings I felt in every cell of my body (and not just on the surface of the skin) was that of having been lovingly touched... Deeply felt, and not touched just to feel the skin, but touched to feel the energy that the skin was just a shell for.

To say she knew exactly how to treat me would be an understatement! She could tell I was not interested in sex, but fully understood that sensuality, understanding, and trust were important! She treated me in exactly the same way I had treated her. We did not know one another, but each treated the other with such kindness, respect, and care. It was very wonderful! Her face showed gratitude, appreciation, and peace. She kissed me one more time, again, just showing gratitude, and the safe-feeling. She clearly was not seeking anything more. Her kisses melted me in so many wonderful ways!

I allowed myself to begin moving my fingers along her body. She welcomed my touch. I could feel the new energy she had today, that she did not have last night. Her cells now felt alive, and energized, compared to barely existing last night. Last night her cells felt as if they only were attached, but not alive. This morning, they were very alive, and welcoming. Without separating, or disturbing the closeness she had managed to create, and certainly not wanting to remove my penis and her vulva from the snugness she had wrapped so well together, I traced all that I could of her. I could tell she had done something similar with me before I woke, but I also could tell there was more that I did not know. While last night, she had been wary of any touch but seemed to not flinch when I did, this morning, she seemed eager to have me touch as much as I desired. While I normally would not allow myself to dwell, or even focus on breasts, simply because I normally do not really find them that fascinating, this time was different. As my fingers gently traced, I could also see her own willingness to welcome more. She was showing a welcome to what previously would have been negative touch by other men she had been near, yet finding great comfort in it now. I had to admit, for reasons I did not understand, I actually found it to be … Umm, shall we say ‘Very stimulating’? I also did not mind this time, even welcomed it. Her own responses were very much the same as mine. (For me to even be able to write any of this is baffling to myself. Accepting my own self is often one of my most difficult battles.) We both allowed ourselves to explore freedoms we seldom had...fully, uninhibited.

We both wanted this to continue just like this. But she also was no dummy. She asked what that alarm was set for, implying she knew I needed to get up and get moving for something. I told her my 'plans' for the morning. 

She got up from the bed, teasingly pulling the covers with her. She grinned as now my reaction was, umm... very exposed, and visible. Keeping the mood light and positive, knowing I likely would still not be thrilled to have my reaction viewed, (although I seemed to accept it was very much felt) she made it funny. She offered me a hand, and when I held my hand out, she jokingly said “I was Gonna Grab that Handle! (Pointing at my penis) So she did. She pulled on my hand, And on the “handle” that was seemingly there for that purpose. I appreciated that, and told her “Ah, so that’s the purpose of that thing!” We both laughed, and the lighthearted nature made it so I did not care that I had a visible reaction, nor that her hand was still wrapped around it. 

She asked if she could look closer some more. I gathered from this that she had done plenty of looking while I was asleep. I decided this was a good time, and I was in a good place, too, so it would not make me uncomfortable. I also recognized her need to be able to look at something she thought she could only hate, but instead has found positive, and healing in such an item. She knelt down, so it was at her eye-level. I watched her eyes and was quite satisfied to see what she saw. Her eyes showed that she was not simply looking at a man’s penis, but at something far more important. After “Pulling me up” she had never let go. She had gripped and tugged quite firmly, because she had literally pulled me up like she playfully had suggested, and allowed her tight grip to remain. I found it odd that her holding me so tight was not at all uncomfortable. She applied a firm grip, much the same as I had to her last night. She seemed to find peace in studying how it looked, felt, and ...ummm... throbbed... in her grip. I also was pleasantly accepting of this, and still kinda amazed that I did not mind, or feel uncomfortable. (This, too took me back to the best-friend I had a kid.) It seemed as if now that she had accepted it as not a bad thing, she wished to “hold on” to that feeling, both metaphorically and physically. Now as she looked closely, she allowed her grip to relax. It was almost as if she had “captured” something potentially dangerous, then once she had her face where she could watch, she let it go, to see if it was no longer a danger. She just looked for a few minutes. Watching, looking from every angle, really close, and seeming to inspect it at very close proximity. She reached again, gently to touch with her fingers. She traced every bit of it, much like she had been tracing my face earlier.

I knew without a doubt that she had done this with my entire body, because the feeling left behind after her touch was the same as I described earlier about how my body felt like it had been magically touched. I knew immediately that she had felt every cell on my body, yet was not saying she had. Yes, her touch was very much arousing, and for a second, I wanted to make her stop. But I watched, and let her continue. She was creating a feeling that was unlike any normal arousal, and it was in no way a sexual arousal. I could tell that she was not taking me to place that was sexual, or possibly would lead to my most hated feeling of an orgasm, but she was allowing herself to feel what touch alone cannot feel. She was feeling the spirit, the energy, and all that was within me. She had closed her eyes, and was feeling what was an invisible thing to the sight, yet following with her fingers the energy flowing within each vein. It was very intriguing to watch as she traced and followed every vein that was currently so visible. I could feel what she also was feeling. I watched, and could feel what she felt. I could also see, what she could not, and without her seeing, she would trace a vein that was not in any way raised, or large by any means to have a bump to feel, and allowed her fingers to feel without seeing. I could see where the various colors curved, and she followed them precisely only by touch. She was following the flow of the blood in the veins only by feeling the energy. She continued this in absolute silence and the peace she exuded as she did was incredible.

I could literally see her spirit glowing. As she continued, I was completely carried in with her relaxed safe spirit. While she had created such an arousing feeling, as she continued, it had the exact opposite effect. She continued until there was not an ounce of it in an aroused state. The smile she showed, as she felt the absolute-relaxed state, was once of having conquered the greatest fear she's ever known. She still had not opened her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed my penis, still smiling so proud, confident, and alive. I felt the same. It was incredible to watch this acceptance and trust. Still without opening her eyes, she stood, only inches from me, brushing her breasts barely against me, Leaned in and kissed me one more time, not having ever looked to see where my lips were. And, no… I Did not object one bit that she kissed me immediately after she kissed my penis. It was also funny, since I saw that she had gotten white lips from the baby powder, and then gave me white lips as she kissed me. I knew she would see this once she opened her eyes. She hugged me. When she opened her eyes, I saw a soul that had found peace. It was incredible to have witnessed the transformation from the scared, troubled soul I saw in those eyes last night. I held her tight. I knew she would be alright. She looked at my powdered lips, smiled knowingly, and without a word, she went to use the bathroom. I went to make the coffee.

As soon as I had coffee made, I poured two cups. I went into the bedroom to see if she was still in the bathroom. As I passed the front door, I noticed the girls had indeed finished all the laundry. They had even folded and stacked it all nice and neat, placing it just inside my living room. They had come in while I was sleeping, and not disturbed me one bit. I continued to the bedroom. Laura was sitting on the windowsill, with the curtains wide open, watching the sunrise, still naked, and not caring if anyone could see her. I knew I was in a fog, when I had not even bothered to look outside yet! I handed her the cup, and sat next to her, still fogged. As she turned to face me, she saw my lips were still slightly covered in baby powder, she knowingly smiled again. She laughed , looked at my baby powdered penis, and jokingly asked how I felt about having seemingly kissed my own penis. We both laughed. In answer, I leaned over and returned the favor. I kissed her now bare, but powdered vulva, then kissed her. She, too had white lips now. We both laughed. We both smiled. We both understood how our otherwise repulsion by such things had become a bond between us, and could actually accept and embrace those repulsions. We drank our coffee, naked, not concerned, watching the sunrise in silence. I noticed it was no longer raining, and was actually going to be a sunny, clear day. That made me happy that she would begin the rest of her journey in sunshine, instead of rain. I asked her what she wanted to do from this point. She smiled, and said “Continue to California.” I told her “I think your clothes and shoes are dry and next to the front door.” Her smile broadened. She asked what I meant by the “I think”. She had thought I was the one who folded them and placed them there. So I told her about the neighbor girls who offered to help. I never got a chance to tell her how much they did or did not know, or even about our shared adventures after I put her to bed. I was not going to tell her that they had come and seen her while she slept.

Almost as soon as I had told her about the neighbor girls, and the laundry, my front door opened, and all three girls walked-in. We were in the bedroom, and could not see the front door. Normally, I would have hid my nakedness, but since they had been so comfortable and safe last night, I did not hide this time. Laura grabbed a blanket to cover herself. While she had allowed herself to remain comfortable around me, not feeling the need to hide the bruises or her nakedness, she was not sure about these girls. I half-expected to see them all three still muddy and naked, but they were clean and dressed. I introduced each of them. They were grinning, and it made me wonder what they were up to. They took Laura by the hand to the front door. She looked a bit puzzled, but did not resist. I followed. They opened the door and took Laura into the main corridor. I heard them telling her “These are for you.” Laura dropped her blanket, and hugged each of the girls, again not worried one bit about being seen naked, or allowing her bruises to be visible. Of course, I needed to see what was so exciting. I squeezed between all the girls to see. The commotion got some of the other neighbors to open their doors and peek out. We told them ‘hi’ without covering or offering explanations. They simply greeted us and went back into their apartments.

I knew the girls were up to something for asking to see her size last night while she slept. I had an idea that they might attempt to get a set of clothes Laura could wear, but I really did not expect them to do much more than find a pair of pants and a top. What a Surprise! They had several days’ worth of clothing stacked neatly outside my door! The girls picked up the piles and brought them in for Laura to see and try –on. Laura was not the same size in any way as any of the three girls, but they had gotten clothes that would fit her! The girls even brought bras and panties that were the perfect size and fit for Laura! They had successfully gathered clothes for entire outfits, including two more pair of shoes. They were busy during the night! Laura was speechless, crying joyfully, hugging each girl, and me, too. I told her I had nothing to do with the clothes. She and the other girls insisted I totally was the reason for the clothes. They all insisted that if I had not helped Laura, they would not have had a reason to help her either. The girls insisted Laura hurry up and go shower so she could get dressed and enjoy her new clothes. Laura hugged everyone again and thanked them, then went and showered, to get ready for the new day, and new clothes.

While Laura showered, I decided to make breakfast. I asked the girls if they would like some, too. They all agreed they would. Then they joked about me being naked while making breakfast. They made jokes about “Are we having sausage and buns for breakfast?” They joked about if I would pee out the window if I had to go, or would I use the sink? They teased that I could of course just go pee in the shower while Laura was using it. Usually, I would be mortified at this. The fact that I had openly peed with them and knew they knew more about me than I normally let anyone know was kinda a good thing. Normally there were so few I willingly allowed myself to be seen naked in front of that I knew. Those few who had seen me naked were only for brief moments, and I certainly would not have been naked for extended times around them, especially socially while making breakfast!  But for whatever reason, being naked in front of them was actually comfortable, and felt good. They, too noticed this. This was very healthy for me. 

I had mostly hidden myself for the past 10-years. There were occasionally a few safe people I would not hide myself from, but there had not been many, and certainly not to this extent, where I was freely interacting, and not worried.

As I continued to make breakfast, each of the girls told me how they had previously seen me naked when I had thought nobody could (or thought I might be seen, but thought I had not) see me. One girl’s window faced the area I thought was very concealed outside. This was where I would go late at night and watch the stars. When she would see me go out there, she would go and get the other two, and they all three would watch from her window. This surprised me, and embarrassed me a bit. They saw this, and assured me it was not that they were watching to embarrass me, but to see they joy and freedom I felt while doing it. That made me feel good, even safe in knowing they saw that. (It also reminded me of the time I was twelve and a high school neighbor girl and her friends told me how often they watched me when I thought I was secretly alone, and how happy that made them!) One of the girls had an apartment door that faced mine across the corridor, and she would watch with her door barely ajar when I would go and do my laundry late at night when I thought nobody was looking. She told me how much fun it was to watch me bounce joyously down the corridor feeling my naked freedom, and thinking nobody saw me. As soon as I was down the stairs, she would go down the set of stairs on the other end, and watch from behind the stacks in the basement. She said how much she enjoyed watching the freedom I allowed myself when I was down there. The first time she saw me pee in the floor drain, she had to stifle her laugh. She explained how she thought it was so funny that I found joy in that, and also watched in amazement at my making sure I always aimed perfectly. She said one time she saw me miss, and go find a bucket, fill the bucket with hot water and wash the floor. She told the others about this, so they all started to sneak down and watch, too. They discovered if they were outside, because it was dark out and bright in the basement they could watch me without hiding. By them telling me how much and how often they had watched me, it actually helped me, not scare me off. They proved safe, and comfortable. They told me about other neighbors who watched me regularly, too, and every person thought it was wonderful because I went about it in a way that did not shove nakedness in others’ lives, but instead showed I wanted to enjoy it, but be semi-private about it.

It was strange, yet freeing to allow the girls to be so close, looking, and talking about me in such a positive way. As I continued to make breakfast, they each began to look closer at my body, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable. At first, I noticed they were seeming to "sneak" closer glances. One noticed I had seen another "trying to peek", and giggled. The one who "got caught" was embarrassed. I reached to give her a hug, and tell her it was alright to look, be curious. Another, giggling, asked quite teasingly if "touching was also alright?" She expected me to say 'no'. They were genuinely interested in learning more about me, and I could see that this was a good time, not making me uncomfortable, or feel like I was on display. I also could tell they were not going to be mean in any way to me. I always allowed those who genuinely wanted to learn and understand different aspects about me to do so when it was not done in any kind of mean, or cruel way. For any who treated me with kindness, and respect, I seemed to let all my walls down. One thing I have learned in life is that too many people hide when someone wants to learn about the body. I always valued those who welcomed my curiosities, and in turn would allow others the same freedom.  I told her, "Yes, Touches were OK." She looked slightly embarrassed, even suddenly bashful, but allowed herself to begin to gently touch, and explore. People are curious, and in a safe place, curiosities often lead to touching, feeling, and exploring. The girls were happy to watch, feel, see, and learn how different bits moved, reacted, and changed. I too was interested in allowing these, since I was learning more about myself, too! (keep in mind I was still young, at 22, and had not had much 'experience' like this since the age of 12. They, too were my own age, and seemed also to not have much 'experience' like this.) Funniest of all was when one had cold hands, and discovered how fast cold changes things. (Have no worries, they were quick to warm parts up again.) To have so many touches, and different people all at the same time learning, touching and watching was new for me. In my life, I have had one or two curious touches, or even one or two looking, but to have all these at once, yet it be totally safe was a new venture for me! For me to not wish to hide, or even allow a reaction to remain visible was an incredible step-forward for me! I normally would hide and be mortified any time a reaction happened or was visible. (The oddest part was when I got a reaction, not from any touches to those regions, but rather when one girl was tracing my ribs!) The girl who was touching my ribs when I reacted stopped touching me as soon as she saw the change. I surprised myself by not suddenly wanting to hide it, or cover-up. But after last night, and how safe these girls were, I did not feel I needed to hide it. I actually was happy to not feel I should. Naturally, All eyes were suddenly watching this change. Mine were too. They had seen this last night, but we all knew the situations last night were different. I smiled, then said “I guess you found the switch!... and go figure, the rest of us thought it was down there.” This made us all laugh, and not worry about it. It was funny, because I had not reacted one bit while there were touches down there, yet from her touches to my rib! Then teasing her, I said: “Now you need to figure out how to make it go away”. This made us all laugh. She grinned at this, and said, “Nope. I wanna watch, not get rid of it.” To my surprise, I was OK with it remaining, even being watched, touched… More learning for all of us. Laura came out of the shower, and stood watching these interactions. She smiled, and could tell how safe all this was. The girls looked to Laura to see how comfortable she was with this. She smiled, and confidently said she had done the same for a couple of hours earlier while I had slept. This caught my attention, and she saw the look of curiosity on my face. She smiled, seemingly like she had been caught with a guilty pleasure. Then looked at the girls, then back at me, seeming to see if it was alright to further explain what she meant by her statement. I grinned and told her “Do tell.” Each of the other girls grinned and nodded, noting we all wanted to know what I had slept through.

She proceeded to tell me, (and the girls) how when she woke up in the early morning hours, she was at first disoriented about where she was. …Proceeding to fill the girls in of what she had already told me... She said she looked at the alarm I had set to see what time I would wake up, and knew she had two hours available. Then she continued telling what she had done after she came to my bed. She told how for almost two hours, before I woke, what she had done: She had allowed herself to feel every single inch of my body, trace every bone, every muscle, every vein, and every cell. She wanted to allow herself the freedom to touch a man who had been the only safe man she’d ever been around. She wanted to feel every ounce of my energy, and fill herself with the same. She was thrilled to find that I would react not from her touches to my penis, and testicles, but how I reacted when she touched my face, or my hands, or my feet. She would watch, and trace some more. The first time she caused it she told us she got scared. But when I did not wake, and also when it did not change the way my energy felt, she decided to embrace this otherwise thing she feared. She blushed a bit as she told this. I went and hugged her, and just held her. She looked around and asked if it was safe to tell? We all assured her she could tell us, and it would not be shameful. She looked confident again and continued telling what she had done: She had decided to hold it next to her face. Then as she held it, she began to kiss it. She liked how much this felt like she was thanking me, yet at the same time, she was finding her own strength, and willingness to accept that at least one man could be decent. She not only kissed it, but then kissed every bit of it, making sure to not miss any bit. She was worried that I might get too aroused, and she decided to not focus on it for a little bit. But the kissing made her feel it was better than simply a touch. She said she could feel what felt like little fireworks in every cell each time she kissed on it. She held it in her hand, and just enjoyed feeling it, and the blood flowing in it. She said she had never before actually enjoyed holding one. Then, she decided to start kissing every bit of my body. She wanted to bring those little fireworks to every cell in me, since I had helped her so much, and this also helped her, plus gave back to me.

I dished-up breakfast, and we all ate as she told us more: She proceeded to tell how she kissed every bit of my entire body, and as far as she could kiss down toward the part I was laying on.  She noticed how my reaction would go away, and then come back again. Each time it came back, she would watch to see if I might wake. She said I only smiled, but never moved like I would wake, so she would again place her face next to it and hold, kiss, and grip it. Each time, taking it a bit further, feeling what I was feeling, not wanting to take it too far. After she had done this many times, she knew how far and how much she could do without causing me to be overly stimulated, and cause orgasm. As she told this part, I thanked her. She smiled, and told me she knew it would be bad for me if I woke to an orgasm. I hugged her, and told her I wish more women understood this! She continued telling: She watched as the clock got closer to 5:30. She had made sure to let the reaction go totally away, so I was not anywhere near overly-stimulated. She re-powdered herself, then powdered me, too. She said this made me stir a bit, but not wake. She kissed my body some more to make sure I would remain asleep. The she positioned herself so her vulva was perfectly aligned over my penis. She told how it was completely relaxed at that point, and how fun it was to have a soft penis in between her vulva folds. She laid there, just allowing that to feel so wonderful. Then she began with the touches, and kisses again. She had learned what areas caused more of a reaction than others, and focused on those. She said the feeling of my reaction with it snugly sandwiched, perfectly aligned inside her like that was the absolute most healthy thing she had ever experienced. She had never felt a penis in that way, and it was incredible to embrace it as it happened. That was what I woke to when the alarm went off. Just having her tell it, and how she went about it totally caused me to react again. I did not feel I needed to hide it. We all just smiled.

Watching my reaction occur once more as she told this, she decided to tell me (and of course the girls, too, but she directed it at me) about how it felt when I began to allow myself to touch and explore her. She did not skip any details, and told these with such a sparkle in her eyes! I was amazed even more at how much just her telling these feelings was causing me to react more and more right now!

As we all sat happily, comfortably enjoying what had happened in the past twelve hours, the level of comfort, and safety we all felt was beyond comparison. Then she commented that if I had not stopped to help her last night, I would not be so safe and comfortable today. She was correct. For whatever reason(s), God placed her in my path last night, and also made it so these neighbor girls would be in her path, too.

The neighbor girls then told her what had happened after they saw me come home. They seemed to enjoy that the telling of the events caused me to continue to react even more. I was not used to this! I was, umm… more, umm… let’s just say I had more reaction in this past few hours, and even past hour than I normally had in my life!! But I was not uncomfortable for some reason. I did not mind one bit, and the girls all seemed to enjoy it as much as I was.

The girls suggested I head to the shower (and joked I may need a cold shower!) and they would help Laura try on her clothes. Laura was excited, and kept coming in to show me each item, and how good the girls had done in finding the right size and fit! She of course started with the bras and panties. She was especially thrilled to show me how well her bra and panties fit. I got the impression she had not previously had good-fitting ones, or even flattering ones. It struck me that I did not yet know anything about this girl. I quickly gathered that she was probably very poor, or had never known she could flatter herself, or possibly that the person/ people she was running from were not the type to appreciate her, or ones she would want to feel pretty  and flattering around.

It always amazed me how much more alluring it was to see a woman in bra and panties, when she was proud, happy, and flattered, than it ever was to see her naked. It created a mystery, and for some reason, I always found that to be sexy, yet never saw a naked woman as sexy. To me, viewing a body is not in itself sexual, or even a turn-on. But the opposite is true when in bra and panties… but not always. If I saw someone changing, that was no big deal, or even alluring. Even when a woman was showing/ modeling yet the items were not flattering, or properly fitted, there was nothing exciting about the bra and panties. But to have someone showing, modeling in ones that are flattering, properly fitted, and make her feel special almost always was. It was similar to the girls last night and how they caused me to notice how alluring, even sexy they were. There was something about the presentation, the way a girl stands, even proud to have you look when she is modeling herself like this. That made me happy. (Yes, she definitely caused a reaction, and I was not ashamed of it. She noticed which items caused the reaction, and even commented similarly.)

Then they all came into the bathroom. The girls had brought hair-stuff, and makeup too for Laura. They proceeded to do her hair, and her makeup (only a bit, nothing fancy) while I showered. Good thing I was not mortified to have them all see me!

Once I finished showering, I too went to get my clothes (which were still piled in the front room.)  All four girls jokingly said they needed to help me get dressed, too. I laughed and asked if they were planning to do my makeup, too. We laughed, but it turned out they were not joking. They really wanted to dress me! They were continuing from how safe and open I was allowing this morning to be. I decided to allow them this playfulness. This was weird for me. They of course started with my underwear. I at first thought, ok… no big deal, so they pick out some underwear, and slide it on me. Simple, done! Nope! They each wanted to try a different pair on me. They took much delight in this. I was not sure how to react. The weirdest and most bizarre was that each had a different idea of how I should fit in my underwear. In keeping with the light-spirit and learning, safe atmosphere, I decided to just let them. I gotta say, it was a completely new experience, and weird, too! Never before had anyone ever dressed me, let alone adjust my parts into so many different ways in my underwear! None of these girls had seen me in just underwear, so none had seen how I positioned my parts. (Laura saw me undress the night before under the overpass, but had not taken the time to notice these details.) Also new to me was in having my parts touched so much, yet it be completely safe, and in no way was it uncomfortable. It was definitely a new experience! Once they each had done what they were satisfied with in the underwear, they finally moved onto the shirt, pants, socks, and sweatshirt. Those did not prove any challenge, or even any level of creativity. But over-all the being dressed was quite fun for all of us!

I grabbed a small duffel bag to pack Laura’s new clothes in. She was very happy to ask me to throw her old ones and the shoes in the garbage! I showed the girls where I had some posterboard and markers, so they could make her a sign that would attract the right driver headed to California. I gathered some food and even made a couple of sandwiches for her, gathered toothbrush, toothpaste, the hair stuff, and the makeup, and packed it all in the duffel bag. At the last minute, I thought about grabbing a raincoat. I did not tell her about that, just included it so she would find it later. As I was ready to go for work, I asked again if this is what she wanted to do. (Meaning hitchhike to California.) She looked confident, and said she did. I did not doubt this was the right thing, just wanted to be sure it was what she thought she should do. The three girls walked with us to my truck to say good bye to her. They each dug into their pockets, and altogether handed her about 20-dollars. It was not much, but it might come in handy for her. She did want to take it, insisting they had done enough, but they insisted. She stuffed it in her pocket, then gave each one a tearful goodbye hug, and we drove toward the freeway.

She did not say anything, just smiled confidently as we drove the short-distance. It was a beautiful sunny morning. It felt like the world was happy to see this Laura greet it today, rather than the Laura the world saw last night. I heard her quietly say, “Thank You God.” And her smile, and confidence literally glowed.

I parked as near as I could to the onramp. We each got out. She was crying, but not sad tears. She was very happy. I was too. She hugged me tight for a long moment. Kissed me, thanked me, grabbed her duffel bag, sign, and confidently marched up the onramp. She stopped briefly to look, smile, and wave goodbye. Goodbye Laura. God be with you.

I went to work. Coworkers always liked to hear about my adventures when I went to Portland for a couple of days. This day was the same. Everyone asked if anything exciting happened. I told them about the things that I did with my Mom and sister, and what we did around Portland. I did not tell them about the hitchhiker.

A couple of days later, one coworker who had been off since I had come back, came in and was grinning like she knew something I did not. This was not uncommon. Her husband was a police officer, and often she found out the scoop about something that had happened around town, or to someone we mutually knew, and she always liked to tease me and see if I had found out the same details she had. This day, she asked me if I had anything exciting to tell about my trip to Portland. She was grinning, like there was something she knew, but would not tell me until I spilled-it myself. I cautiously asked her why she asked. She decided to turn it on me, and asked how I felt about picking up hitchhikers. But she already knew how I felt, and knew I Never did. This was something we had discussed at length previously. But I knew she knew something about Laura. She was grinning, so I knew it was not bad, or that anything had happened that involved the police. To safely answer her question, yet not spill too many details, I said, “Under the right circumstances I might pick one up.” She said, “If her name was Laura, would you?” This caught me. I looked at her and said, “spill it!” She was laughing, and I knew she was dying to tell me:

She began to tell me how her husband had found an old pickup in Redding, California he wanted to buy. They decided to go down with his truck and trailer, get it, spend a day relaxing out of town, and then head back with his new toy on his trailer.  They headed out at 8 in the morning the same day I came back to work after being in Portland. (I could see right now where this was going…) I had dropped Laura off at the onramp about 7:45, then was at work by 8. As her and her husband entered the freeway, he grumbled “Another Damned Hitchhiker gonna get themselves killed.”  As they went by, they both noticed this was not a normal-looking hitchhiker. Her husband pulled over near the top of the ramp, and grumbled about “That pretty girl does not belong out here. Something doesn’t fit.” Being the cop, even off-duty, He always stopped if something did not sit well with him. They discussed how clean she looked, and, even noticed she did not have a tattered cardboard sign, but instead a decent, neatly written one on posterboard. They also could tell she was not from here, but then got to wondering how she had gotten here. This was not a typical place out of towners would be for hitchhiking. Usually, they would be two-exits down, where all the truckers came and went, where the other cross-roads met the freeway. They noticed the girl did not run to where they had stopped. They had not stopped to pick her up, and she did not feel she should force herself on whoever had stopped up there. This, too was odd. Normally any hitchhiker will run to any vehicle that has stopped, whether it was intended for them or not. They both got out and walked back to her, hoping to talk her into not hitchhiking. As they approached her, he identified himself as a police officer, even showed his badge, and told her she was not in trouble, nor were they here to harm her. She happily greeted them, and asked what she could do for them. They had not expected that. They talked to her for a bit, then ended up offering her a ride. They at this point still did not know I had a connection at all. Laura had told them she was hoping to go to Redding, because she had friends there. They asked how she got here, and where she came from. She told them “God sent me someone last night.” But they could tell she did not want to say more (yet).  My friend and her Husband both felt they should give her a ride. They asked her if she would like to come with them. She did. The husband, of course being the cop, told Laura he would ask lots of questions, and make sure everything was alright. Laura’s answer: “A Calm, knowing smile, and a confident “It already is alright.”

They drove down to California. As they drove, and asked questions, they began to put the pieces together. Laura was cautious, of course about how much she revealed, but soon could tell these people were totally safe. They were able to get details from her about what she was running from, and even her full name. Laura was happy to tell them, and seemed not to be needing to hide anything. At one rest-stop, the cop husband made a couple of phone calls (and told Laura he would, so as to not deceive her. He had her trust, and did not want to do it any other way.)  to see if Laura had anything that did not check out. Laura was confident, and did not object. They verified she had in fact run from a bad domestic situation. It was her own family who was hurting her like that. They also verified she had called the police many times seeking help, but  never could get true help. She finally fled, only with the clothes she had on, and hoped to find a better life. He verified she was not in any trouble, or wanted by any authorities.

Without Laura ever telling them who had picked her up, she revealed she was picked-up in Wilsonville last night. She also told them she was taken care-of, helped, and given a safe place to stay the night. Then she was given clothes, food, and dropped off on the freeway ramp as the one who picked her up went to work. After Laura told them these little bits of information, both my coworker and her husband smiled, exchanged a knowing look, but did not let-on that they knew who had helped her. They  both knew I had come through Wilsonville that evening, and had gone to work at 8 the next morning. They both knew my nature, and how I loved to help people.

My coworker was giddy about knowing my little secret, and also knew I likely would never tell a soul if it was not brought-up. Now 22 years later, I am feeling the tug to write about such an important day in my life. I mentioned at the very first of this post that I recently met a young lady who reminded me of Laura. Yup… another hitchhiker… but I will write about her in another post… someday. (Maybe 22 years from now?... maybe tomorrow. We’ll see when the inspiration strikes.)

I still wonder to this day If I was The one who was helped, or if She was. Either way, I Know God works in wonderful ways, and I always am glad when I am receptive enough to actually do what was supposed to be done. 

Ever Picked up a Hitchhiker?

Ever Picked up A Hitchhiker?

I did... once:

Recently, I came across a young lady that reminded me of The One and Only Time I ever picked-up a Hitchhiker. …Well, Sorta. She was not really hitchhiking… you’ll have to read it to understand…

Every day of my life, I come across someone seeking help. People seek help in getting something, whether they seek food, booze, smokes, money, shelter, or help in getting somewhere else. The problem comes in deciding if that person is legitimately needing help, or is scamming others.

Some people have no problem never helping another. I am not one of those. I Thrive on helping people in need. I know how wonderful it is to have gotten help when I've needed it, so I willingly pass that along to others. Yes, sometimes being such a giving person bites me in the butt. More than once I have been taken advantage-of. It makes it tough to decide if helping is the right thing to do… but since that is such an important part of who I am, I usually continue to give.

The one rule I follow is: “Will I put myself in danger?” This rule often leads to an argument in my own brain between what I should do, and what I want to do when it comes to helping others.

Ironically enough, it would seem that by following that rule, I would Never let a stranger into my own home. But, it is the complete opposite. I let strangers into my home regularly. And, also ironic is the people I let into my home are the ones most in society would never even go within ten-feet of, or help them at all. If I choose to help someone, by letting them into my home, I KNOW without a doubt they will not harm me, will not steal from me, and will not do anything I will regret. Likewise, those I allow into my home Know without a doubt that I will not harm them in any way.

But, where I will not let someone in as readily is into my vehicle. I have always had a tough-time with this dilemma. For some reason, I KNOW those I let into my home will do me no harm, Yet I cannot be so sure about letting them into my vehicle. I go with what I feel is right. And oddly enough, when I come across a hitchhiker, I get the feeling that tells me not to even slow down, let alone stop. It makes me feel bad, because I really want to help, but I know I gotta trust that feeling.

I have come across thousands of hitchhikers in my travels. Not once have I felt it was right for me to stop… EXCEPT ONCE…

Seems Safe Enough ... Would You?

One time, and only one time I felt it was right, and I did. I was not wrong. I was really glad I did.

~~~~~ A Word of caution about the following events described in this post: Some people may find this to be a VERY disturbing writing. Just the feelings that came to me, and reminded me of this time in my life are extremely difficult to allow to surface again. Beginning to blog, just over a year ago was an Incredibly hard decision. The idea that I was actually going to allow myself to relive the events that have shaped so much of my life was therapeutic. The idea that I would finally put these into writing was hard to grasp. The idea that I would actually allow another to be able to see some of what I have kept a secret for most of my life is even more difficult. Why, you might ask, am I writing these events? And more importantly, Why would I allow them to be public? Simple: Some of the greatest help I have received in dealing with my own struggles is that which came from someone who had also been through a similar situation. Finding one person who can relate, and make you understand that things happen, and those things are what makes us into the person we later become, it all it takes to plant the seed of hope. I have been given that courtesy by others, and I have also given that hope to others. By choosing to actually find the words to put into writing, and make it available for anyone who might need that connection, understanding, or support, Then That Is Why I write my life’s events, and allow them to be viewed by others.

In No way would I want someone to begin reading this without knowing it confronts and deals with subjects many are not comfortable reading about. Just searching to put the feelings into words is an emotional roller coaster. Writing about the struggles, fears, shame, and imprisonment often heaped upon victims of sexual molestation, victims of rape, and victims of anything that would make people feel insecure, dirty, or even ashamed of their own body, the naked body, normal functions of the body, or anything that would normally be seen as sexual is one of difficulty. These topics are also often forbidden in society, so it makes it even harder to write about them without being too offensive, or even considered too graphic.

Often, just allowing anyone to even know what I have been through is embarrassing, and could be humiliating. People are mean, and often just allowing myself to be vulnerable by sharing what I feel, what I’ve battled, and how I view things is a hard choice. Fear is crippling. But Freedom is far greater. I strive for freedom daily. Sometimes, just allowing some “secret” part of my life to finally be released takes away the self-imposed (or often society-imposed) imprisonment.

The following events involving the picking up of a hitchhiker made me confront and deal with topics I wished did not exist. I hate more than anything in this world that people will harm another. It is amazing, though, how by allowing yourself to help another when they are in need, you often are shown how to deal with your own fears, insecurities, and overcome some of your own greatest barriers in life. It makes me wonder: Did God Place the hitchhiker in my path to help her, Or To help Me? While the underlying causes of the events below are horrific, Know I will not take you to that place. I will show you how those events took many people, myself included, to one of The most Positive, Most Rewarding places One could ever hope for. Good Truly does come from what is thought to be bad.

This event, involving the hitchhiker Does in Fact cover some Very Graphic, Very horrific feelings. Be warned, and know I discuss Rape, Molestation, and so many other Topics which are Some of The Most Difficult to confront in life. (At least for me, they are difficult.) If you Read Further, Know You Will read details about The human anatomy (yes, My own, and others, too), reactions (often considered to be sexual by many, but NOT intended that way by me), and some Very Private, Very Personal  Issues. I do not wish to discourage anyone from reading, learning, and understanding, But I DO Want to Be sure You Understand the content may be offensive. Please, As You Read Further, Enter With an Open Mind… Or With Closed Eyes. ~~~~~ (Enough about cautions, let’s get back to the event of The Hitchhiker!)  

In 1990, I lived in Roseburg, Oregon. I regularly traveled between Roseburg, and Portland. It was a three-hour drive. I had my routines, my favorite places to stop for gas, the restroom, and food.  I had my favorite places I always stopped, whether it was night, or day. I knew every mile of road, knew where I could pull-off the road and enjoy a creek, or just get away from the traffic on side-roads. I knew every exit, every tree, and every bit of the beauty along this stretch of Oregon.

Back then, I was not open about my love of being naked. I enjoyed much of life naked, but did so mostly in a secret way. (I went into hiding about my nakedness at the age of twelve. I was 22 at this time. It would be many more years until I allowed myself to “come out of the closet” so to speak.) I was mostly mortified to ever allow anyone to see me naked, but there were exceptions. In my quest to always find places to enjoy naked, I would explore every road that led away from the majority of travelers. I found many places I could stop for a skinny-dip in a creek, or to just sunbathe naked in a field. Depending on the weather, I would enjoy the sunshine, or dance in the rain, the snow, or just in run-around naked under the stars. Often in the summer, a moon-lit skinny-dip was one of the most rewarding things you could do! The feel of nature on my body always was a delight… but I was mostly in hiding about allowing anyone to ever see me naked. Oddly enough, even in simply going pee, I would often seek places I could do so totally naked, instead of in a traditional bathroom, door closed, out of view of anybody possibly seeing. I often would find a spot in nature to go pee along my travels. (Why use a smelly concrete, crowded place when nature was available all around?) And I reveal later in this writing about one of the places I’d been caught peeing as a “secret” guilty pleasure by my neighbors.

The irony in my “mostly secret” naked life was that it was mostly only secret to those who knew me… …or when I thought nobody was looking if I happened to be where those who knew me might see me. I was often very cautious around my own home, yet at the same time, that is where I tended to take most of my “risks” in another “catching me” so to speak. When I met strangers, they accepted me for who I was, and I was not at all ashamed to be seen by them. Another oddity in my own hiding, was that I never felt the need to hide when sharing a bathroom with someone who happened to be in my life at the time. Whether in my home, or when traveling with friends, it always struck me as odd that those who normally hid any nakedness from each other, would forget “the rules” if they needed to share a bathroom. If people were sharing a bathroom, they tended to not get worked-up if they saw another. In my quest to always find naked freedom, I often was seen when I did not intend to be when I would be in nature, or even a laundry room of my apartment building. But I learned that nobody every freaked-out when I was seen, so it just became another “safe” place to allow and accept nakedness in my otherwise “secret” lifestyle. To me, naked was not sexual, and I never could understand why so many people made simply naked into something it was not. (You might ask why I include this bit of nakedness acceptance here? Because it is important for understanding how I helped this hitchhiker…)

This day was no different. I had spent a couple of days-off in Portland with My Mom, Sister, friends, and enjoying my favorite city. I needed to head home to Roseburg that night, since I worked at 8am the next morning.  I left Portland around 6 in the evening, which would put me into Roseburg around 9. Plenty of time to get settled-in, get plenty of rest before work the next morning, and start my week again.  It was dark, cold, and raining hard. (That was not unusual in Oregon.) But this night, it seemed darker and wetter than normal. It was a gloomy night to say the least. I drove a small Toyota pickup. It had no extra-cab, and hardly had room in the front seat. I always knew how to keep my bags dry when I put them in the back, but today, I had crammed them into the front seat with me, not wanting to bother with the rain-proofing of them.

I headed South on the freeway like I normally would. In Wilsonville, I stopped to gas-up, and grab a burger for the road, just like I normally would. As I got my burger, for a reason I did not understand, I actually ordered two, and a second order of fries, too. This struck me as odd, because I never got two of either, but I KNEW I needed to, even though I hardly had enough money to buy two of each, I did so. I have learned in life to trust and follow those “feelings”, knowing it was not usually my own thoughts, rather those of God who was directing/ guiding me. (Yeah, I am often stubborn, and will still attempt to do things my own way, instead of The Way I was Meant to, but most of the time, if I get the feeling about something, I know I need to follow and trust it.) Getting an extra meal was one of those I just knew I was supposed to do, without knowing why.  Then I hit the freeway South. The freeway onramp there always has hitchhikers, and I had gotten used to going past them every time. This was the last spot before miles and miles of wide-open country. They always had some sort of sign, or antics hoping to attract someone who would stop and give them a ride. It was nothing abnormal, or strange to see at least one on this onramp. It was the last place a pedestrian could easily walk-to before being in the no-man’s land between cities.

On this particularly dark, wet night, however, there was not the usual crowd of hitchhikers. I was slightly surprised to not see any out there. As I got up to freeway speed near the top of the ramp, something caught my eye in the dark, through the rain. I saw a face… part of a face, only eyes peering out from under a dark hooded sweatshirt. It was unusual, and I tried to look twice, but I was already passed what I had seen, plus the rain, and darkness made it seem like I had only imagined it. But I knew I had seen eyes. I knew the eyes I had seen were begging for someone to notice… but not notice because of anything else done to get attention… notice by the chance that God had intended them to be noticed.

(Many times in my life, I have been led to things, places, or people that are completely unexplainable to anyone, even those who witness it. I understand how and why these things happen, and Know this is how God works. I know to trust it, and not question it. I cannot explain it, nor can the person who is helped by it. It is just something that one must accept, and be willing to allow to happen as it is meant-to.)

I hit the brakes, pulled-off to the shoulder and looked back to where I had seen those eyes. I could see nothing. My first thought was to just go-on, and ignore what I thought I had seen… But I Knew I could not. I knew it was not a thought, but that it was actually someone there that only I was supposed to see. I got out, and looked again, so I was not looking through rain-splattered windows. I could not see anything along the ramp. Another car came up the same ramp, and even with their headlights lighting up where I had seen the eyes, I could see nothing. After that car passed, I grabbed my flashlight and shined it back down there. I still saw nothing, but I knew there was something I was supposed to notice. I climbed back into my truck, wet from the downpour, and was tempted to just get on the freeway and go…

…But I Knew. I backed down the ramp to the spot where I had seen those eyes. I looked again, and still saw nothing. I grabbed my coat, and flashlight and got out to go look. As soon as I pointed my flashlight in the direction of where I had seen the eyes, I saw them again. Those eyes looked scared, but hopeful. Those eyes looked as if I was the only one supposed to see them. I saw eyes of a scared, but relieved person. They were eyes of a young lady who looked like she could not trust a soul in the whole world, but had just seen what she needed. She appeared to be in her young twenties (the same age I was at the time). I lowered the light so I would not blind her, and shined it toward the ground. I told her my name was Jon, and she showed a slight hint of a smile. I removed my coat and stepped toward her. She did not move at all, just watched with her eyes, looking with slight relief. She was wearing dark clothes from head to toe, and the only thing visible even with my light was her eyes… and a slight hint of a smile. The smile was not one of joy, but of relief, trust. She had the look of fear of any male, yet of trust that I was not like most males. I could tell immediately that she had been repeatedly mistreated by a male, or many males. I knew this look, and also knew that God often placed me in a hurt-person’s path so, they could find good again.

She was not dressed for rain, or even the cold. She was not dirty, did not look confused, or even mentally-gone, or even on drugs.  She was just cold, wet, and standing there, looking like she wished she could just flee, but knew I was supposed to be there, too. I wrapped my coat around her. She did not back away, nor look worried. As I wrapped the coat around her, I looked at her eyes to see if she was willing to allow me closer. I wrapped my arms around her, held her, and asked if she was all right. In response, she wrapped her arms around me, too, and quietly said “I will be.” She remained hugging me and was shivering. I could tell from holding her that she only had on a thin layer of clothes, and was not dressed or prepared to be out here. I asked if she would like a ride. She nodded again.  She was shivering, and soaked. She was wearing black canvas shoes, black sweatpants, and a dark brown hoodie sweatshirt. She was not wearing any socks, and it was fairly obvious she also did not have on a bra. I guessed she also did not have on any underpants. It seemed she dressed and left whoever or whatever very quickly. Her hands were tucked up inside her sleeves. There was no mud or dirt on her shoes, so I could tell she had not gone off the gravel, and had walked here, or been dropped-off here. I asked if she had a bag, or any belongings with her. She shook her head ‘no’. I shined my light around, just to double-check, and there was no sign of anything having been near her. She clearly was out here all alone, not dressed for the weather, or even to go anywhere. I led her to my truck. She stood there, still shivering, and not saying a word as I took my bags from the seat, and placed them in the bed, not taking the time to place them in water-proof wrappings. I grabbed a blanket out of one bag and wrapped it around her, and motioned for to her to get in. She smiled slightly as she sat down. I reached in and turned the heat up to high, and closed the door so she could begin to warm up. I quickly made sure none of the bags would blow out, and thought about attempting to place them in plastic, but decided they were already soaked, so it would do no good. I would just need to do laundry as soon as I got home.

I got into the truck, and at that point understood why I had gotten two burgers and two fries. I pulled one of each out and offered them to her. She looked like she was hungry, but would not take the food I offered. She looked at it as if she wanted to, but she did not want to take away my dinner. I told her how I felt I needed to order two of each, and showed her both. She happily took the food and quietly began to eat. I could tell she was hungry, but her fright made it so she had no appetite. She nibbled, slowly, but did not scarf-it down.

(I already KNEW I was supposed to pick her up, and take her with me, and KNEW without a doubt  God had sent me to do exactly that. I Trust when I am put into these situations, and know they are right.) Before driving again, I told her I would not harm her, nor would I pry into her troubles. She looked at me, and without saying a word, I could see in her eyes that she already knew this about me. I asked if she wanted to tell me her name, and where she hoped to go. She quietly said “Laura, and California.” I asked if She would allow me to take her as far as Roseburg. She said, ”I do not know where that is.” I told her Roseburg was 90-miles North of The California border, about three-hours from here. She smiled, and said “I’ll go there.” So, my intention was to head to Roseburg, then drop her off at the exit, and she could continue on with her journey.  

After a few minutes on the freeway, I was still cold from having gotten soaked, and she was still shivering. Even though the heater was on high, and she was wrapped in my coat and one of my blankets, she had been out in the rain and cold too long, and could not warm up like this. I took an exit I knew had a secluded underpass where there was a creek I often stopped at for a swim. Tonight, I was not stopping for a swim. It was waay to cold for swimming! But this overpass would give me a dry place to get each of us out of our wet clothes, and allow her to warm-up.

Normally, if a driver would pull-off a road with a hitchhiker, and seek a secluded underpass, it could mean only trouble. As I took the exit, she watched and looked, seeming to wonder, but not showing any fear. Her eyes were wide and watching everything, but she did not ever look like she felt she was in danger. I told her I needed to get each of us out of the wet clothes, and get us warm.  She showed a slight smile, and continued to look at me, not worried, not scared, simply like she knew she was gonna be alright. She was looking around, seeming to think I was heading for a place with a building which would be suited for this.

Once I was under the overpass, parked out of the rain, and turned off my headlights, she smiled a bit more, yet also looked nervous, seeming to understand my idea. She asked, “here?” She did not look worried like I was going to harm her, but worried like she could not allow me to see her naked, or to allow herself to see me naked. I told her I would not embarrass or humiliate her, and respect would be my priority. I told her the fastest way to get each of us warm and dry was to first get us out of our wet clothes, and asked if she would be offended. She looked relieved, yet still concerned. I knew that look. She was mortified at the thought of having me see her, and it seemed she was not thrilled to see me, either. I was not so sure I wanted her to see me changing. She got out and watched as I opened my bags, hoping some of my stuff was still dry, but it was all completely soaked. I knew my clothes would not fit her, but I hoped I could at least give her some socks, and a warm sweatshirt to cover-up with, and wrap her in a warm, dry blanket. I had hoped to find enough dry clothes that each of us could wear something other than our wet clothes, but everything was completely soaked.  She saw my disappointment, and she too looked disappointed.

I always kept towels and blankets behind the seat, so I looked to see what I had this time. Sure enough, I had several towels, and two blankets… all nice and dry! I told her we could get dry and warm, but I had no dry clothes for either of us. I assured her I was not interested in getting her naked, nor in anything else associated normally with naked. I only intended to get us each dry and warm, and asked if she was ok with that. She only nodded, and continued to look at me as she did. Her eyes said she was ok with this, yet her body told me she was still uncomfortable with this whole situation. But she did not look like she truly knew what to do. I told her she was the one I was more concerned about first, then I would take care of getting myself warm again. She nodded again, but still looked unsure of how to proceed. I asked if she was comfortable in me seeing her naked, just to again make sure she was not weirded-out. She did not answer, or even nod, but looked down at her feet. I could tell she was wanting to trust me, and wanting to get warm, just not sure she wanted to bare herself. I asked if she would like me to help her, or if she wanted me to turn-away. She shyly asked if I would help her, but would not look at me.

I went around, and took her to the tailgate, set a dry towel on it, and motioned so she knew she could sit and undress. She looked at me again with eyes that said she was not comfortable in undressing herself, but needed (wanted) help. I understood this. It is an interesting dynamic, where we do not want to make ourselves ‘vulnerable’, or ‘revealed’, but if another helps us in becoming this way it is completely different.  So, I reached to unwrap the wet blanket from around her, and she got a bit of a grin. Still shy, and slightly embarrassed, but said “You First.” She was still shivering, but the food had taken effect, and she now had energy. She was willing to allow me to help her undress to get warm, but now to get her courage up, she wanted me to go first. I also understood this way-of-thinking. If we are slightly scared of ‘revealing’ ourselves, it is easier if we see another do it first. It is kind-of odd, how this works, but it really does help in removing the fear, when we see another able to do the same thing we ourselves are afraid of. It also helps in taking down any barriers that may be there, also helps in making it so both are on the same level. Also in having me go first, it would allow her to see I was not interested in just getting her naked. It would give her more to feel how much I could be trusted, and whether I had other intentions.

Normally, if anyone was asking me to be visibly naked, or paying attention as I was undressing I would be mortified. There were three things that made this unlike any other undressing situation: First, I was in nature, not in a building, or any real place where ‘naked’ was not allowed. Second, I did not know her, so in my mind it made it ‘safer’. Third, I knew we both needed to get out of our wet clothes to be dry and warm. (I also knew I had to get her dry and warm, and to not lead the way would not be good for her.) Of course I was nervous. ANY time I allowed someone to see me naked, it was a test. It could easily become an embarrassing situation, or make me very vulnerable. The irony did not pass me by in that she was now going to see me in a very vulnerable way, and that I too needed to totally trust that God had led me to this spot for the reasons I felt it was supposed to happen like this. But I knew she was safe, and this was the right way to go. So, I sat down on the towel right next to her. She did not move away one bit. She made sure she was watching me, but not looking directly at me. As I reached to untie my boots, I was visibly shaking from the fear I was now feeling. She saw this, and reached her hand to mine. I looked at her. She said “You are as scared to reveal yourself as I am.” I told her “Mortified.” I knew she was not thrilled to even see a man naked, and also that she was not wanting a man to see her. I asked if she would rather I undressed out of her sight. She thought a moment, then hugged me, and told me “No, I want to have both of us undress right here.” Then she said “Thank You”. That gave me just enough support to proceed in front of her, and to know she was conquering her own fears, as well as helping me with mine. While sitting, and while she still half-hugged me, I removed my boots, socks, pants and underwear. She no longer looked away, but watched, and looked at every detail. But for some reason, I suddenly was not mortified, just comfortable. But sitting was different than standing. But I needed to stand to not whack her in the head as I removed the top layers. As I stood and removed my layers on top, I was completely naked in front of her. She did not laugh, or make me uncomfortable. She handed me the towel with an intense look of studying and wanting to know every inch of me. Strangely she did not make me uncomfortable in doing this. She was not wanting to be obvious, but she definitely was looking longer at my penis, and watching it very much. She was not looking as in admiration, but more of a look that she wanted to hate it, yet the look was also one of interest. I was not sure exactly what she was looking for, or why she looked so intently, but I also was surprised at how comfortable I was with her looking like that. I dried off, still shivering, but felt an incredible warmth around me. It was cold, but no longer being wet gave a warming feel, plus the way she had shown support, and the way she looked at me was warming, too. I picked up all my wet clothes and piled them into one of my wet bags.

I asked if she was ready? She nodded, looking alternately from my eyes to my penis again. She remained seated, and the blanket was still wrapped around her, and under her butt and legs, too. I was shaking again, both from the cold and wind, and because I was about to undress someone who I wanted to not harm, or humiliate in any way. I was So afraid I might make her uncomfortable! I reached to remove the wet blanket from around her. By doing this, it literally placed my penis inches from her face. When I am cold, and also when I am scared, my penis will become almost non-existent, almost retreating up inside me. She watched carefully, and I knew she could tell how far it retreated. Especially with it right in front of her face! Most people would take that opportunity to make remarks to make me feel even more insecure. She only watched. She never reacted, never backed-away as I leaned close. She just let me do what I needed to do. Since the blanket was wrapped around so much of her, I only could get it down around her. Then I removed the jacket. I reached for the sweatshirt, and she took my hands in hers. She saw I was still trembling, and nervous. She held my hands in hers, looked into my eyes, then smiled a bit. She was helping me more than I ever could have imagined! I decided I should undress her in the same way I undressed myself. This would allow her to remain slightly more covered even once her pants were removed. I removed her wet shoes. I watched her for a second to see how she wanted to proceed. She had accepted that I was going to undress her. She remained still, studying my every move, watching my eyes, watching my hands, watching my penis. She definitely was getting a slight smile every time she watched my penis. It slowly relaxed and returned to normal size as my own fears subsided. I was not sure what exactly her smile was about, but I could tell she was feeling safer. I reached to remove her sweatpants, and she stopped me. She looked slightly worried, and asked if I truly would not stare, or ask questions.

I sat next to her, hugged her and told her she was safe, and I would not make her uncomfortable in any way. She sat for a moment, just allowing me to hold her, her new fears still keeping her from leaning into my hug. She looked and watched my penis as I did this. I now realized what she was watching for. She was seeing if I was going to get aroused, or in any way inappropriate. I knew from her look, and worry that she probably had something she wished to hide, and this was going to reveal whatever that was. I also could tell that she had never been around a man or a penis that did not harm her. My guess was bruises, cuts, or other marks that would tell what she was leaving behind would be clearly visible once her clothes were removed. I also would smell a scent on her that was unmistakable. I smelled it as soon as she was inside my truck, and the doors were closed. I could smell it now, too. It was a smell that sent me fleeing, and that, to me was setting off all my alarms, telling me to not go near it. But I knew I needed to be strong, and force myself to suffer through it. As her fears surfaced, the scent also grew stronger. That scent was one of recent sex. But it also was of not so recent sex. It pained me to know she had been raped not only once, but many times, and the horror was only magnified by the fact that she still carried it with her, had not washed, or even had an opportunity to attempt to clean. There Is No amount of scrubbing that can remove that nasty feeling once you’ve been raped. Yes, cleaning the area is helpful in removing anything the rapists left behind, but it only removed the left-overs, not the feeling. She still felt every bit of it down there. The thought of removing her pants only magnified that shame and humiliation even more. I knew I likely would see evidence around her vagina showing the harm that had been done to her. The night was very dark because we were nowhere near any city lights, plus the heavy rain made it especially dark, too. It was not very light under the overpass, but there was enough light from my truck’s interior light, plus my parking-lights were on. I had left these on so we could easily see what we were doing, and not fumbling around. The light reflecting off the overpass above did make it so it was hardly dark. I asked if she wanted me to make it completely dark. She thought for a moment, then said she would be more comfortable if I did not see her naked. No problem. Her safety was my priority. I hugged her tightly, and told her she would be alright. She relaxed a bit and leaned into the hug, welcoming the comfort and reassurance. As she did, her arm relaxed, letting it fall. Her hand landed directly on my penis. But she was not totally focused on that for the moment. Then she wiggled her fingers, and realized what she had done. She yanked her hand back, reflexively, and looked horrified. But she did not pull away from the hug. I held my hand out to allow her to place that hand in it, both giving her a ‘safe place’ to rest that hand, plus showing her she had not caused offense. She allowed her hand to rest in mine, then looked to see what the reaction was from my penis. I had not reacted at all. To me it was not a turn-on, or in any way sexual. It was simply a touch, inadvertent, and not meaning to grab anything. She smiled a bit, allowed herself to completely relax again, then allowed herself to rest her hand on my thigh, Very close to my penis, but not directly, allowing the normal movements of it and my penis to touch. To her, this was a safe test, yet also gave her an opportunity to see if she was truly ready for this. She watched, and smiled more as there was no reaction, and just leaned into my hug. She said, “You can get me warm now.”

As I went to turn off the lights, I also grabbed a tub of wet-wipes I kept under the seat. I turned off all the lights, and came back to where she was. She could tell I could still see clearly, but she could not. She asked if I have excellent night vision. I told her I was like a cat. This gave her a smile. I told her it was good to see her smiling. She said, “So you will still see every detail once I am naked?” I told her “I am not interested in looking at your body. I promise you will not feel me looking.” She now had energy, and was able to smile more, but was still shivering and cold. She saw how comfortable I was naked in front of her, even seemingly warm without anything on my naked body, because being dry is half the battle. She then smiled again and told me to “hurry up and get me warm”.

She was helpful in the undressing. She lifted her butt to make the pants easier to remove. I was not surprised to find that she did not have on underwear. I could indeed see more than a little evidence of having been raped. Her matted hair was full of semen, and her vulva was very swollen. She had huge bruises all over her legs, and inner thighs, and the smell was almost crippling. Almost as soon as I removed the pants, she seemed to suddenly feel vulnerable again. To not have her more exposed than was necessary, I handed her a towel, but she just held it against her bare front. She remained seated on the wet blanket I removed from around her. I got another towel, dried her feet and legs up to where the wet blanket was still under her. She was still looking into my eyes, but the look was now of a fear that I had seen more than she felt comfortable with. I leaned in, hugged her, and told her I would help her, and she will be alright. She nodded. I asked if she wanted me to continue. She nodded again. Without moving, I reached down to pull off her sweatshirt. Since I removed her sweatshirt while mostly hugging her, I inadvertently managed to have my penis between her breasts as they came free of the top. She watched, noticing I did not stare at her now bare breast, also noticing I did not do anything sexual, or react, it was just simply touching.

I hugged her again, and this time pulled her up to a standing position, to get her off the wet blanket, and so I could properly dry her. She kept her hands on the towel, covering her vagina, which of course placed both hands on my penis. This time she did not flinch, or react. She looked down, smiled, then looked into my eyes again. This was good. She was comfortable with my nakedness now, and accepted that just because I had a penis did not automatically make me a bad person. As I hugged her, I told her she was not in any way going to be harmed. She smiled bigger. I told her again how good that smile looked on her. I went to continue drying her, beginning again at her toes, then working up. As I dried her, she still held her towel against herself, seeming to hide, yet moving it as I needed to dry each part of her. She did not flinch, nor object to allowing me to thoroughly dry each part as I went. She did not at all seem uncomfortable with allowing me to take care of her, and make sure she was dry. I knew she did not want me to know, but at the same time, she could tell I would not embarrass or harm her. As I got to the top of her thighs, I did not proceed directly to her vulva. She did, however remove her own hands and the towel she was covering with as I got near that area. Without making it a big deal, as I got to her vulva, she moved her own hands and towel away, seeming to know I would help comfort her. I dried her butt first, and as I got to her anus, she winced, and flinched. I could tell she had been raped there, too. I made sure to be gentle, and she noticed I could tell. She relaxed enough for me to continue drying there. I got a couple of wet wipes, and began to clean her back side. I was not sure how much she would want, or be willing to allow me to clean. I began with only attempting to clean her butt cheeks. She seemed to like that I was doing this, and moved enough so that I could easily clean not only her butt, but easily between, and to her anus. I was not thinking I would be able to do a thorough cleaning, or would even attempt to go inside. I figured that would be too much, but I would clean what was comfortable for her. She relaxed almost quite suddenly as soon as she felt the soothing wet cloths against her anus. This showed me she was wishing me to continue. I did. I cleaned as much inside as I could without causing too much discomfort. She was in pain, and I hated to cause the discomfort, but I also saw she wanted that stuff out of her, and was letting me help her. I dried her back here, then proceeded to her front. Instead of coming around to the front side, I continued forward from behind. This gave me a better angle to firmly, yet gently dry her very sensitive parts. She welcomed this, by moving her legs apart enough, so I was not hurting her bruised thighs. I gathered more wet wipes. I held my hand with the towel gently, but very firmly against her swollen vulva. I applied a solid, very firm continuous force directly to the area that was most tender, and hurting. I could tell it hurt, and I saw her wince, so I pulled back a bit, but she placed her own hand on mine to say she wished me to continue.  She pressed my own hand and the towel more firmly with purposeful applied pressure. I understood what she wanted and needed. I pushed the towel quite solidly between her vulva, and into her swollen vagina, then just held it there. I could feel the tension releasing, and that she was accepting this, painful as it was. Without stopping the pressure, I reached around with my other hand and began gently cleaning with the wet wipes. I kept the towel and pressure firmly against and in her vagina, and while doing this, methodically cleaned all through the hair, and down to her vulva. I used many wet wipes, and make sure I removed all that I could, gently. I could see her understanding of what I was doing, and how it was a comfort to her. Yes, it was horribly painful for her, and I could see and feel that! But at the same time, I watched her eyes and saw she was feeling the effects of the cleansing, and release of tension. By applying the solid firm pressure, it released all the tension, plus it made the wipes feel so soft, cool, and gentle.

As I removed the towel, I made sure to go in with the wipes. I watched her eyes and body movements to see how much was good. I thought she might only wish me to go a bit inside, or not at all, but she fully welcomed as much of the cool cleansing wipes as I was willing to do for her. (A note about how hard this was for me: I really have an aversion to the fluids and smells created by sex. I especially have a hard time when there is semen involved… yes, even my own! To willingly place my fingers in the semen and stickiness as I cleaned her was something that under different circumstances I would have not been able to, likely would have thrown-up, and been absolutely disgusted! Yes, I even have a huge problem with the fluids and scents naturally found inside a vagina, even if there has not been sex involved. I am not grossed out by the human body, or that it is the vagina at all, just simply that I react strangely to fluids, scents, and textures of those fluids. To me, the vagina in itself is quite amazing, and to understand how a woman works, you must embrace and understand how a vagina is shaped, what it feels, and how it functions. I absolutely love anything to do with that aspect, just can’t handle the fluids, scents, or textures associated with those. Then add to that the fact that there was old and new semen from more than one man mixed in, plus in all her hair, and I willingly, carefully cleaned every bit of it. And when she welcomed me to clean as much of her vagina as I could, I of course was honored to be able to give so much, but it was a huge test of my abilities! I wanted nothing more than to escape, throw up, and clean myself from head to toe!)

Yes, my fingers touched her inside, and while I was not intending touch in this manner, I could feel her welcoming and embracing it. She was so tender and swollen, it was heart-wrenching. Her swollenness made it difficult to adequately move a finger, let alone a cloth, but I did what I could. She knew it was difficult, and it had to be extremely painful, and not feel good at all. I could tell it hurt her incredibly, but I was happy that she would let me finish as best I could. I knew all too well how getting those remnants out was the best thing that could be done. Before grabbing a towel again, I used plenty of wet wipes on my own hands and fingers, too! There are some things I just cannot allow to remain on my skin, let alone smear across the rest of her own body.) I grabbed a clean towel to carefully dry her after the cleaning, wishing I had my baby powder with me to give her more comfort. I gently dried and caressed with the towel, this time with no pressure, or force. Then I got another new towel to continue up the rest of her body. Her eyes were watching mine as best she could see in the dark. Once I got to her face, I noticed her looking into my eyes, and stopped to smile at her. She said “You are not horrified, yet you know.”

I hugged her and held her. She clearly could tell that I understood what she wished to hide, and could tell that I understood, too. She did not resist the hug, nor want to stop. She wrapped her arms around me, and held me, as if she just found her security. After a few moments, she said “Do you realize you just felt more details about what I am going through, learned more about me than I’ve ever let anyone know, and now I am hugging you while we are both completely naked, your penis is directly against my vagina, yet you never once reacted, were inappropriate, or made me feel dirty, ashamed, or vulnerable?”  I Told her, “Yes, I Know”. She held me in the hug for a long time. She never once wriggled against me, or made me feel uncomfortable. She stopped shivering, and I could feel her relaxing. She again thanked me. Once she was completely relaxed, and warm, (even though we were both naked still… the comfort, and security went a long way in creating the warmth) I asked if she was ready to continue South. She asked if she could wear a blanket. I told her “Of course!” I wrapped her in a blanket, and got her settled into the seat. I gathered all our wet items from the back, and shoved them into a bag. Then wrapped myself in the other blanket, and climbed-in. What a sight we were… two naked messy-haired, barefoot people wrapped in blankets driving down the freeway.

Laura fell asleep almost immediately once we hit the freeway again. She now was warm, safe, and knew she would not be harmed by me. It made me smile to Know God had placed Me in Her path to help Her. That night I did not even need to turn on any music during the drive. I had plenty of happy music to listen to… The sound of her peacefully breathing while she slept was more joyous than any music I could have played on the stereo. It continued to rain really hard for the entire drive. During the rest of the drive to Roseburg, she did not stir, or wake one bit. I needed to stop and pee one more time before reaching Roseburg. Since I was naked, I obviously did not find a rest-stop. I found another underpass where I could go without alarming anyone. I was worried about waking her when I pulled-off, or even stopped and opened the door. But she slept soundly, peacefully.

Originally, I intended to let her off at the exit of the freeway once I hit Roseburg. But since she was not wearing any clothes, and was still sound asleep, I knew I needed to take her to my home until morning. Even once I parked at my home, she did not wake, or even stir. She was out! She was sleeping solid, and looked like she had just let-go of every worry, every care, and every concern she had carried for who knew how long. I knew I would need to carry her into my apartment, because I was not gonna be able to wake her.

I lived in an old converted schoolhouse. It was three stories above a basement. There were six apartments on each floor. So it was easy to be friends with your neighbors, yet at the same time, there was not an abundance of people here. I lived on the second floor. All the doors to the individual apartments faced common corridors on the inside of the building. While I was still in hiding, mostly about my nakedness, occasionally I would go naked from my apartment to the laundry room in the basement. The laundry room was hardly private or secluded. It was in the basement of the building, and was wide-open.  The basement was one large, open place with stairs on each end, a few storage-closets in between, and many support pillars. Many tenants kept some of their belongings down here, just piled in the wide-open, so there were barriers to wide-open visibility, but at the same time, it was not totally secluded. There also was one window on each side-wall. The stairs went halfway, then doubled-back on themselves, with no doors. So, while it was not directly visible from the top of the stairs, it was fully visible from halfway down. Plus the windows were not exactly covered, or hidden, so if anybody decided to look in, the entire basement was visible. Occasionally a homeless person would be seen sleeping in here, but they never touched anything that was not theirs, and were clean and respectful, so nobody bothered them. It was not uncommon for a homeless person to strip off their clothes and do a load of laundry, since the machines were free. They never paraded around naked, and often would sleep while they laundry went, only walking naked from their bedding to the machine and back. Nobody ever was concerned, because they were respectful.

Occasionally, I would go outside naked for a short-time during the darkness of night, watch the stars, and just feel free for a bit. Sometimes, I would take a bowl of ice cream and go to the top floor, and sit in the window of the stairwell, and watch the cars go by on the highway at night. Occasionally someone would come along and use the stairs while I was there naked, but they simply said “Hi” as they went on by. I did notice occasionally, it seemed the girls my own age would purposely make extra trips up and down the stairs, if they saw me, but they never made big deal of it, and did not make me uncomfortable. More often, though I might be seen dancing in the rain… especially if I was already doing my laundry naked, and felt I was safe to venture out. But I never went out when I thought others might see me, or where I thought I was visible from their windows. The corridor from my apartment, down the stairs and in the basement I always felt safe, and like I was not seen, yet I knew I easily could be at any time.

Because of the extra stops, and time needed to get Laura warm and dry, it was well-after 10pm when I arrived home, so I knew I could safely go up wearing just the blanket, thinking I would not be seen. I went up, and opened my apartment, and pulled the bedding back, so I could just carry her up, and lay her in the bed. The bathroom was also in the bedroom, so I turned that light on, and shut the door mostly. This would provide light if she woke later, and not be so bright as to be in her eyes. It was enough light that the room was not in darkness. I knew I would not be able to carry her while I was wearing the blanket, so I just left my blanket in my apartment, and went back down naked. It was still raining hard, but the rain actually felt refreshing on my skin. Even when I carefully pulled her out of my truck, the rain hit her face, and I semi-clumsily carried her up to my apartment, she did not wake, or stir one bit. I carefully unwrapped the wet blanket and placed her in my bed. I gently applied baby powder to her sensitive region so it would sooth and help remove the pain, then covered her with the covers, so she would continue to sleep.

I was half-torn about whether I should dress or not to go get all the bags of wet clothes from my truck, or whether I should just remain naked. I was very wet, but not cold, and nobody was out, so I decided to just continue naked. I was invigorated, and it actually felt very safe and very comfortable. This whole night had been made to feel that way. So I continued naked, knowing that on this night if anyone saw me, they would be comfortable, and I would not freak-out... But I also was betting that in this rainy darkness, nobody would be out, let alone looking out their windows.

As I picked up the first soaked bag, and realized how much of a mess this would make in my apartment, I had to laugh. I had piles of clothes, blankets, towels, and other misc stuff that were so soaked, I knew they would make a huge mess in my apartment. Plus, I knew I needed to somehow get Laura’s clothes dry before morning. I decided to go straight to the laundry room in the basement. This apartment building had many machines that were all free, and available any time of day or night. The bags were so heavy, since they were soaked, I could only take one in at a time. I plopped the first bag down, and headed out for the second one. Just as I got outside the door, I was surprised to find three other tenants carrying them in for me!

I stopped-dead in my tracks! Here I was naked and soaked, and suddenly I see three barely-dressed female tenants out in the rain carrying in all my bags! They each smiled, and said they wanted to help as they marched right on past. They did not stop, or say anything more, or even look at me as if I was naked. I was just standing there dumbfounded as they went on by. So, I went and locked-up my truck, and went to the laundry room, where they had gone. As I entered the laundry room, I cautiously covered my naked self. They just laughed, at this, and told me I did not need to hide, or cover. I knew these three young ladies. They were friendly neighbors from three different apartments. I knew at least one had seen me often, but she never said anything about it, so I did not either. They all assured me they had seen me naked many times, and this was the first time they felt they could come out and let me know, without freaking me out. They had already begun dumping, sorting and stuffing the machines. They acted like this was a normal daily thing for them.

None of them had taken the time to put on more than they were wearing before coming out to help me. None of them had shoes on. Two had wet socks on, and one was barefoot and also not wearing any pants, only panties. All three had on only a t-shirt on the top. None had on a bra. Needless to say, they were almost as naked as I was. The dash out in the rain gave them each wet-tshirts. As much as I did not normally find excitement in just seeing a female’s body, I found this quite alluring, and was surprised to find I was reacting. All three girls had flirted with me previously, and I just was not very interested. Sure, I was interested in having friendly neighbors, but the rest that came with the flirtation, I was not really interested in.

I was, to say the least, a bit unsure how to proceed! Besides attempting to hide my reaction, I stammered, and tried to speak. I was flustered, and now embarrassed. They seemed completely unconcerned that I was naked, unconcerned at how they were now mostly naked, and not at all concerned that I was reacting. They saw my nervousness, and unsure-how-to-proceed, so the one without any pants came, took my hands from covering my reaction, stood on her tip-toes to place her own crotch on top of my own reaction, and gave me a hug. She knew what she was doing with this. She literally buried my reaction in her wet panties (wet from the rain, not any other reason), and crotch. It was an awkward hug for me, because for many previous years, I had gone into absolute hiding of any reaction I might have. She explained how they were all just hanging out in her apartment, (which explained why she did not have on pants, but the other two did… She was comfy in her underwear at home, and was not going anywhere in the corridors. The other two would still be walking out later, so had on their pants and socks) and saw me pull into the parking lot. (I suddenly realized that I never even once looked up at any of the windows to see if anyone was looking, or if any lights were on!)Then they saw me go into the building wearing just the blanket. Then saw me come out naked, and get the girl out of the truck and carry her up. That got them wondering who I was helping, and what the situation was, so they continued to watch, knowing I would be back since my truck was still open. When they saw me lug the wet bag in, and saw there were more, they knew how to get involved and help me. They came out wearing only what they had on, got soaked in the rain, and literally gave me more than I expected. As she hugged me, and had my reaction well-buried in her own crotch, she managed to squeeze it with her thighs, causing even more of a reaction. She smiled quite proud of what she was feeling. I was surprised that I actually was not mortified.  She released her grip down there, although I had not attempted to pull away. Then she let go of the hug, moving one hand down to my butt, and the other to my penis. Again, I was surprised that I did not pull away. Something in the way she did this made me actually appreciate her touch. She did not attempt to take me to any other level, and certainly was not trying to make me uncomfortable. She simply was showing me she appreciated me like this, and I should not be embarrassed. She asked if I was ok now. I was. I still had my reaction, but I was not feeling like I needed to hide it, or that it was a problem for anyone. The other two girls grinned, as they saw I was willing to allow them to look.   

Because they had shown me they were helping me, and not at all concerned that I was naked, had a reaction, or worried one bit about it, but actually enjoyed it, it helped me to relax, and know I was safe with them, reaction or not. My first question then was “How and when have you seen me naked?” They just laughed (but not in a mean way) and told me they had been watching me since the first day I moved-in, and would tell me more details in the morning. They all wanted to know about the girl, and it was clear not one cared I was naked, or that were nearly naked. I told them how I found Laura, and most of the rest of the details that led us to here. They all wanted to help her, too. I still needed to go upstairs and get my laundry soap, so they came with me. They wanted to see Laura.

I had not told them about what I saw and what Laura had wanted to hide, but I guessed they could tell. In the bags of wet clothes, were also the towels, and wet wipes. I saw them notice, and discreetly throw the wipes in the trash, and the towels, plus her clothes definitely had the smell, so I was sure they knew.  The light shining through the door crack of the bathroom was enough to light her up enough that she was not in darkness, plus the light from the front room was shining in on her, too. The girl without pants asked if I would pull the blankets back for a minute. She clarified, before I had a chance to even ask. She simply wanted to see her body size, not gawk at her. She did not want to give me more details, and I caught what she was hinting at. I knew exactly what she had in mind, and also though it was a good idea. She intended to find clothes for Laura to wear in the morning. I warned them they may not like to see how bruised she was. I pulled the covers off long enough for them to see her size, and they did exactly that. They looked at her body-size, not the details on her body, although the bruises were clearly visible. They might easily have noticed, but were polite and did not make it obvious. Laura did not stir even when we did this.

The three girls and I all went back to the laundry room, and got the washers started. They told me to “get some rest, and they would take care of the laundry for me”. I tried to argue that they did not need to, but they were persistent, and insisted I had already done more than my share tonight. So, as I hugged them each, one suggested I go pee down here in the laundry room before I went up to bed, rather than risk waking her using my bathroom.  The other two giggled when she said this, and all three gave me a knowing look that told me that they had seen me do this many times before, but I had thought I was not seen. (Yep, I have been known to use an available floor-drain to go pee. Call it a guilty pleasure. Yup, my own bathroom was just a few floors up, and it was not like waiting two minutes was an issue, I liked going pee any place that was not a conventional toilet. I always have. I am careful with my aim and make sure I do not create anything that could be considered an unhealthy environment, or pee any place it would not be acceptable. One day, I will write about this ‘secret’ joy in life!) I asked how they knew this, slightly embarrassed. They told me they would tell me about that in the morning, too, but not to feel I had anything to be embarrassed about. (I was beginning to realize they had been ‘secretly’ watching me for a long time, although I had hardly hidden, or been sneaky, I had not really thought any had noticed, or the few who had just acted like they hadn’t.) They all grinned, and stood there waiting.

I asked if they expected me to pee in front of them? They all insisted I had done it many times before, and they actually found it to be a guilty little secret to watch, especially since I did not attempt to hide, they figured if no harm was done, they could find pleasure in it. I agreed! I was a bit shy, when put on the spot like that, so I told them I can’t ‘perform’ when I know I have an audience… an expectant audience! I was, however a bit flattered. Imagine my surprise to find out that my ‘secret joys’ actually made others smile! One asked if it would be easier if all of them did it, too. She pointed out that there were enough floor drains that we all could go at the same time. That made me laugh… and relax, too. But one girl protested saying “her aim was not that good, and it would be messy.”  Then another said it would be more fun if we all could face each other, and go at the same time. I suggested we all go outside and pee in the rain at the same time. I asked if any of them had ever felt the pouring rain and wind against their bare skin while they pee’d? They exchanged glances, then one suggested how difficult it was to balance with pants around the ankles, and not get any on your pants, too. Another said “Not if we aren’t wearing any!” And immediately removed her pants and underwear, giggling as she did. The one was already without pants, but she happily removed her panties, to show she was ready. The third one looked a bit hesitant. She was the one who suggested it was difficult to balance, so it was clear she was nervous, and just used that as an excuse. She looked at each of us, grinned at the sight of her two friends wearing only wet t-shirts, and decided to strip, too. We went upstairs to head outside, into the rain. One girl stated “we might as well be naked, as she watched her shirt become even more transparent. The other two said it was more fun this way. I agreed! It also surprised me, and it was all I could do to not get another reaction. For some reason the sight of them in only their wet t-shirts, and cute bare butts bouncing free really was alluring to me. I asked where they would feel comfortable squatting, and all three made a circle facing me, and said “right here!” (I had suspected they would be a bit more discreet, or wish to maybe be a bit spread-out, so it surprised me when they all wanted to pee together, facing each other, right in front of me.)  I’d pee’d in front of others many times, especially outside, but this was new and fairly arousing to be so close, and with them like this. I did get a reaction, and all three grinned as they watched. Strangely enough, I was totally ok with this, yet at the same time I wondered about what was the real reason I was reacting. But I tried to not think too much about that, and just enjoy what was happening.  For some reason outside always removed most barriers we tended to put up around us. For some reason outside seemed to always be more free, more accepting, and more comfortable. I was laughing, but somehow knowing these girls had seen me pee before, just had not let me know they had seen me was quite comforting. (Also it was not terribly surprising, just that I had not realized it.) Now, standing in front of them with a reaction, they each were giggling as the rain and wind hit their bare parts, plus eagerly watching my own reaction. One commented that they were having an impromptu wet-t-shirt contest.  I told them I likely would not have reacted if they were simply naked. This made them all laugh, then they each assured me they were glad they had Not been naked, then. (Meaning they were happy to have caused the reaction.) The girl who first removed her pants said “you start, we’ll join” and they all squatted in front of me. I could tell they had seen me many times, and were not in any way weirded out by this. One of the things I always liked about peeing outside was I did not need to hold or aim it. But since I was not hanging relaxed, I felt I should squat to help keep any from getting on them. It took a moment with my reaction, but the rain totally helped. It was odd to think I was doing this just barely in front of them, facing them. As soon as I started, the one who had hugged me earlier when I first showed the reaction, reached and held it. She smiled proudly. I was surprised also that I did not have a problem with this. Then as soon as she held my penis while I pee’d, she started, then the other two did also. All three never once took their eyes off me. I had to admit, it was actually fun to watch them, and quite a thrill to have the one hold me as I went! Even dare I say? A Turn-on, too! I had seen girls pee before, and it was never any big deal, but to have them purposely want to watch me, and have me watch them simultaneously, and so close, too! It was fun! (Yes, it played with my mind to even entertain the thought that this was in any way not kinky, or a weird-thing. I knew it was. It was totally weird, and totally kinky! But I’ve learned not all things considered weird are bad, and I also have learned to embrace those that do no harm, are mutually enjoyable, and can be a shared, joyous moment between people… It just takes the right situation for me to allow it to happen.) It reminded me that we, as adults, tended to put-up silly walls, and forget how to just enjoy the simplest things in life. As a kid, it was never weird, or ‘kinky’ to go pee with your friends, male or female. It was never weird for a friend to hold your penis as you went, and certainly never strange to allow another to feel your reaction, or to cause it, so why was it so bad as an adult? Also the joy of watching, and freely allowing another to watch you was quite good for one’s self esteem. The girls enjoyed the experience as much as I did. 

They were definitely having their wet-t-shirt contest, and found it to be quite funny, especially since their most exposed parts were not their tops. They were more impressed by their own exposed breasts due to the rain than they were about their bare bottoms, and visible vulvas. To me, seeing breasts was no big deal. Seeing them through a semi-transparent top did something different for me. I never understood why a simply naked person was never alluring, but the allure created by a bit of cover, or suddenly that cover becoming revealing, yet still in place was a turn on I could not deny. But what was even more of turn-on was the playful freedom they were allowing themselves in the rain, and I enjoyed that they could find such joy in it. They each hugged me before I went in, each one rising onto her tiptoes to place my reaction snugly between their own thighs, and totally against their vulvas. They knew how to embrace the moment, so to speak, and to show they were glad they had caused my reaction. Normally, I would have been absolutely mortified for any to see it, let alone hold, or “mount” it like that. They truly found an opportunity when I would let my guard down. Strangely enough I was totally ok with this. I had to realize how many years it had been since I had allowed myself that freedom. It was good for me, too. I went inside to get some sleep, they were removing their wet tops as I went in. Just before I went into my apartment, I looked out the window in the corridor above the stairs, overlooking where they were playing. Sure enough, they were now naked, and stomping in the muddy puddles! I DID want to join in that fun, but I was tired, and knew I needed to get some sleep. It looked like they would play out there naked until it was time to move the laundry to the dryers. The way they were playful, I guessed they would all end-up going to one of the girl’s homes and showering to warm-up, probably remaining naked as long as possible.

Again, not wanting to make Laura uncomfortable in any way, I set up a bed for myself on the living room floor. I left my front door unlocked. (Like any place I have lived, where I know God protects my home, I always left my door unlocked whenever I was home.) I remembered to set-out a new toothbrush on the bathroom counter. (Yes, I always had spare toothbrushes, still in the packaging, so any guest would always have a fresh toothbrush.)I set my alarm for 5:30 in the morning, knowing I needed to go gather my laundry, shower, eat, get Laura up and moving, then head-out for work by 8am.

This post is another exceptionally long one, so I decided to break it into two parts. The second will be posted soon.  Here is part 2: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/12/i-picked-up-hitchhiker-part-2.html