She tugged my jacket around herself tighter, a bright smile on her face. ‘Oh good. I didn’t like the idea of sleeping on a park bench tonight.’ ...s if she would be getting any sleep at all tonight. No. Tonight was going to be special. A small tribute and, if I was lucky, it would be just enough. The clerk at the desk didn’t bother with the check in process once he saw my face, his own contorting as if to say ‘another one, eh?’ Hopefully she didn’t pick up on that. I used my real I.D., my real. While I don't wish to drift too far from the focus of this narrative - the erotic dynamics of exhibitionism and nudity in my everyday home life and the influence of same by and on my mother and my girlfriend, I would like to share at least one peripheral memory with you. I do so because it underscores the fact that the impulses that manifested themselves in my main story were already affecting me at an early age.I've always been thrilled by simply being nude, but I guess there has always been. More

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