Nude PartyCertain blog posts of mine get more traffic than others. One that gets hits every single day is my post about my years at the nude beach in Sandy Hook. So, I thought I’d touch on the popular topic of nudity again, and tell the story of the nude party.

Back when my husband and I were engaged, I was invited to a “lingerie party” by some guys that I used to play volleyball with. I got the invite because these two guys knew that I had frequented the nude beach at Sandy Hook, and we knew some of the same people. When I asked what a “lingerie party” was, I was told you come dressed in your undies or a fancy nightie.

Yeah, that might happen.

The night of the party, hubby and I were just sitting around the house doing nothing. I broached the subject of the party, thinking there was no way in hell he’d want to go, but I have to say, the idea kind of appealed to him. It took a bit of persuading on my part, but at 10 pm on a cold December night, we drove to the address given to me and knocked on the door.

We were ushered in by a middle aged red head who looked like Pinky Tuscadero – she immediately made a pass at me. After a polite, “no thanks” we walked into the kitchen in search of my volleyball friends. The first thing I saw was a pair of naked ass cheeks. The guy turned around and had his package nicely encased in a satin, rainbow, zebra G-string. It was at this point that I wondered if I had made a huge mistake. I wasn’t sure how hubby was going to react to this.

We’d been here less than 30 seconds and I’d already gotten a lesbian come on, and seen a guy in nothing but a G-string. But hubby had a smile on his face. I guess we were strapped into our seats…it was time to enjoy the ride.

The house was filled to the brim with folks in varying levels of dress or undress, if you will. I case you are curious, hubby and I were fully clothed. I think we were the only ones. Some gals were wearing teddies and negligees. Others were topless with just panties on – hubby liked that part. And the men? You name it. Speedos, G-strings, boxers, or total nudity. There was a naked woman with a massage table giving massages in the dining room. And there was one guy whose body was totally shaved.


I couldn’t quite place what was odd about this fellow at first glance. You knew there was something missing, but it was hard to pin-point exactly what it was. Then hubby said, “Did you see the guy with the shaved balls?” So that was it! I’d seen all sorts of men’s bits and pieces at the nude beach, but never a dude sans pubes.

We decided to head to the basement to get a few beers. A semi-clad foursome were playing ping pong. There were tables of food lining the walls. A naked guy with a top hat was pumping the keg. It was a wee bit uncomfortable getting a beer because he was holding the tap right in front of his crotch. It was impossible to not get a very good look at what he had to offer. But I was thirsty, so what the hell.

Hubby was hungry, so I said to him, “Why don’t you eat something?”

He looked at me uncomfortably and said, “I would, but the table’s at dick level. I’d hate to think that while reaching for the chips some dude’s balls landed in the potato salad.”

I about died laughing, but he was right. It did make the idea of sampling any of the food somewhat unappetizing.

We really didn’t know anyone except for my volleyball hosts, so we just mingled and watched the party unfold. Folks who had arrived in some sort of attire were shedding what little they had on as the night progressed. While I’d frequented the nude beach years before, it was odd to see folks naked sitting on the couch, or reaching into the fridge. Somehow nudity seemed so natural at the beach, where you really wear next to nothing anyway. But in the house? was all so…domestic, and so very naked.

At one point we went to the second floor to see what was going on – lots of folks were going up and down the stairs, so we figured we’d nose about – besides, I wanted to find another bathroom. I wish we hadn’t. Seems like the upper floors were reserved for those with a taste for swinging. There were all sorts of sexual shenanigans going on, and we high tailed it back down stairs toot-sweet.

After a few games of ping pong and a few more beers we decided to leave.

We drove to the diner for some wee hour of the morning cheeseburger platters and rehashed all that we’d seen. We were both glad we had gone; it was better than just sitting at home doing nothing. Some times those spur-of-the-moment decisions to do something really pay off. And I was proud of hubby. He’d taken a step into a lifestyle that he might not have been comfortable with, and had not been judgmental or jealous. Instead, he had gone with the flow and enjoyed himself.

And we had one hell of a story to tell as a result.