Naked Coed Freshman Welcome Party

(This is my second CMNF (Clothed Male, Naked Female) party story. Both stories have turned out to be love songs to very real women that I've known and loved.

Here's to you:)

I stared at the signup sheet. I looked around. We were in the nicely carpeted and expensively furnished hallway of the college's Administrative building. (Yes, they furnished hallways here.) Seemingly normal people on seemingly normal business kept passing by.

"So... it's for real?!"

The skinny, straight-haired, brown-eyed blonde behind the gold wire rims behind the table in the entry hall didn't even bother to nod.

"It's a ninety-four-year-old tradition. And the rules are all here. It really is all about making our new students feel special and welcome. The fact that our girls aren't dressed is practically immaterial."

She now looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to make some clever remark about the freshman girls' lack of clothing and the use of the word "immaterial."

I did not indulge her.

"I'm signing up," I informed her. I reached for the signup sheet but she placed her multi-ringed, well-manicured hand upon it.

"You haven't even read through our rules and regulations yet," she objected.

I was having none of it. I knew that male attendees were limited to the confirmed number of freshmen girls willing to go nude. I had to put my name in: now.

I raised my hand in a mock vow.

"I promise to obey the rules. I will read and memorize every word of your handout. PLEASE put my name in!"

She sighed and relented. She turned the sheet back around and glanced at my scrawled and printed name.

"Well, James—"

"Jim!"

"James," she continued. "We currently have twenty-two confirmed freshman girls. There will also be six, also nude, female chaperones: seniors, faculty and faculty wives. And no... I am a senior, but I won't be chaperoning nude this year."

She looked away. "I had... an incredible experience, being naked at the party. It was beyond..."

She looked up at me; really looking at me for the first time. "Go in there wanting to check out twenty-eight naked girls— and that's all you'll get out of the whole experience. But go in realizing that these are brave, vulnerable women who are briefly casting aside all of their clothing— and maybe more than a bit of their dignity— just to be appreciated in a very special way by one, hopefully very special guy..."

She actually put her hand on mine. "Then it really will be an eye-opening experience, in more ways than you can imagine."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I learned in the official handout that this most unusual, college-sanctioned, CMNF party started out as a sorority prank in 1929. All of the senior girl chaperones showed up naked— and they eventually convinced many of the freshmen girls to join in their undressed merriment.

Perhaps unsurprisingly— most of the males who were partying quite heartily approved. The surprising part was that at least some nudity was kept up, year after year, until it became a tradition; a regular rite of passage.

There were all sorts of rules and recommendations regarding dress and behavior. Freshman girls were not allowed to wear anything at all: no shoes, not even jewelry, and only minimal makeup. Female chaperones were allowed some jewelry: a watch, a ring, a tasteful necklace. Chaperones would also be identifiable by their ubiquitous high heels.

Guys were expected to wear business attire: ties, jackets, dress shirts and slacks. We also had to fill out an online questionnaire— right on South Valley's website— listing our hobbies and interests. All the materials warned that was not a "nude dating service," however, the party planners would do their best to match "guys to girls."

Oh. The girls would be wearing one thing: a red bow tie that looked as though it belonged on a pretty Christmas present but around their pretty necks instead. Their first name (and initials if needed) would be dangling on a white ribbon between the red. The guy would get to "untie" his assigned girl; the now completely nude young lady would then tie her bow around his left wrist.

Strangely quaint for a CMNF party.

Friday night and I kept checking myself out in the mirror. Silly, I thought; who would be looking at me with twenty-eight naked ladies bobbing about. Still, I did have to look good for my special girl.

It was like getting ready for the strangest blind date ever. Imagine getting a call or an email: "To save time, I'll already be naked. That way, if you see something you don't like..."

Yeah. All I knew was that my eighteen-year-old heart was pounding... and my other body parts were definitely and anxiously biding their time.

Stephen's Hall was a very warm, inviting, old-fashioned building. Furnishings inside were plush, carpeting was plush— and the massive breasts (and matching baby-bottle sized nips) of the apparently totally nude older woman behind the check-in table certainly looked very plush.

I waited patiently for a shy, blushing male student to sign in and receive his instructions. He was visibly sweating through his dress shirt and his tan dress jacket already had underarm stains by the time he left.

I stepped up and tried and failed to maintain eye contact. This was a forty-plus platinum blonde with her hair piled up on her head. She was wearing a pearl necklace and a watch. That was all that I could see from her belly on up.

I guessed her massive mammaries were 42DD...

"44D," she said. "Did you guess correctly?"

I started really blushing and stammering. For some reason I was leaning on her table with both hands. The second female in forty-eight hours put her hand on mine... except this particular female was totally nude. "I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable," she stated. I hoped that she was only inadvertently echoing a lyric from 'I Honestly Love You.' "We know it's overwhelming, all of this female nudity, especially for inexperienced young men such as yourself."

Inexperienced! I was ready to tell this impudent nude woman that I had only recently ejaculated just inside the vaginal opening of a very hot young lady. I was technically not "inexperienced."

"That's why we've all decided to just bring things up, and get things out in the open." And she actually straightened her body up and thrust out her own massive "things" even more, making them quiver lightly in a very enticing unison. Now she squeezed my hand in greeting. "I'm Ms. Mackle; yes I'm Professor Mackle's wife." She leaned in conspiratorially. "You can let him know you've seen his lovely wife stark naked— if you'd like to fail his class!"

I gulped. I had just started classes with Mackle two weeks ago... did she know?

"Seriously," she looked behind me and another bug-eyed young man had lined up.

"None of us would be here if we weren't completely comfortable with nudity. So... it's quite alright if you look! My goodness: eighteen-year-old heterosexual males..."

She shook her head.

I showed her my student ID. She checked out my picture while I openly checked out her big-nipped tits. "Your girl is Elizabeth."She handed me a white card made of very heavy stock. Some talented calligrapher had inscribed that lovely name; perhaps actually using a fountain pen.

Again: very quaint for a CMNF party.

She glanced at the guy in back of me but he was in no hurry. He appeared to committing those 44Ds to memory. Nonetheless, she leaned forward and so did I. Any leaning had a remarkable effect on her breasts. I guessed that those big red nipples staring back at me were always that big and always that red.

Lucky professor!

"Have fun; look all you want but no naughty touching! Just remember: we're naked because we like it, or because we just shrug it off, or because we're young and we wanted to see if we could do it. No one here even contemplated stripping off just for your own personal viewing pleasure.

Now get out there!"

She gestured to my left, dismissing me, but with a wry smile.

The Great Room (?) (that's what I'm calling it) looked more like a very old-fashioned gentleman's club. No: not that kind of club. I'm talking dark, wood-paneled walls, dark carpeting, scattered tables, chairs— and even a few living-room style chairs and sofas. I half-expected to see buck's heads mounted on the walls and gray-haired gents puffing on cigars.

And then—incongruously for a college hall— an actual bar, manned (womanned?) by a nude, older, probably senior girl.

She was a classic, curvy and curly long-haired blue-eyed blonde. She was just turning away from an intently leaning male customer, and I was just at the right angle to see behind the bar.

She had such a sweet, curvy ass with dimples that seemed to be winking at me. Soon, she would have to turn around again. I was primed for a prime pussy viewing experience.

For some reason I decided to keep walking— kind of crablike sideways— with my head turned for the perfect line of sight...

... and I smacked right into a slender nude brunette.

"Oh!" "Oh!" we said nearly simultaneously. It was pure luck— good or bad— that my hands hadn't automatically gone out and grasped onto her perky little breasts as the perfect handholds.

"I was—"

"You were looking! Duh. I think it's to be expected. Since we just happened to bump into each other, why not take a good look at me?!"

There have times in my life when a woman makes a certain statement— and I have learned to say absolutely nothing. This was one of my first times.

She had light brown hair tied with a white ribbon into a ponytail. She had brown twinkling eyes and a somewhat devilish smile.

Her breasts were smallish but pointing out with nipples like hardened rosebuds.

She had a very feminine roundish but flat tummy. And her mound... she had a thick, dark bush that had so much hair cover that it looked as if she had to part the jungle with a comb to keep things clear for peeing— and other activities.

She abruptly decided to explain herself; but how did she know exactly what I was looking at?

"A lot of us girls kind of allowed our hair down there to grow out... once we were sure that we were coming to the party. I know my bush is quite fierce, but it's the only covering we're allowed to have!"

Hmmm.

Her legs were long, slim and shapely. I grinned in spite of my nervous embarrassment when I finally got down to her feet. Perhaps in defiance of the unofficial high heels mandate for chaperones, she had on cute white sneakers and even cuter little white socks.

I looked back into her eyes to signal that my nude body inspection was over. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You haven't even seen my butt yet!" And she promptly turned around and wiggled her naked butt at me; a butt that was as pert and perky and just as perfectly curvy as the rest of her.

She whirled back around to full frontal. "Who's your girl?" she asked.

"Uhhnn" I replied.

(Ladies: when a man has just spent nearly two minutes studying your naked body, please note that the speech center of his brain may be temporarily non-functioning.)

"Oh!" I came back to nearly full functionality and showed her my card.

"Beth?!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god: if Elizabeth is Beth... she is adorable. She's pretty, sweet, so smart and funny." My nude brunette appraised me briefly and nodded "No wonder they set you two up. You two will absolutely love each other."

She suddenly blushed and put her hand on my chest. "Oh god: please don't tell her I said that!" She pointed to a far corner of the vast room. "I'm pretty sure she's on one of the loveseats by the windows; probably enjoying the sunset."

As she left, she kissed my cheek.

"Good luck to both of you."

I never knew her name. I looked for her on campus for a long time afterward; I think I would have recognized her pretty face, even with her clothes on.

I headed to the appointed corner for my rendezvous with naked Elizabeth... or Beth. There were no more nude mishaps along the way, but there was a rather well-endowed blonde who gazed after me with hopeful eyes. I of course had to get close enough to that bare lovely's neck ribbon to sadly ascertain that her name was Cynthia. I backed away, keeping her pink-tipped 36Cs (?), her soft tummy, and her light brown triangle of fur in my constant sight as I reluctantly retreated for as long as humanly possible.

My peripheral vision was improving by leaps and bounds as I was being presented with a new nude female distraction to view roughly every twenty-five feet.

Now; how can I continue this story now that I'm up to the point of my first sighting of Beth, without making myself sound like an overly-romantic idiot.

I can't... so... fair warning.

There was a light tan loveseat in the farthest corner of the Great Room, facing tall, multi-paned windows. The nude, dark-haired girl stretched out on that loveseat had creamy-white skin that contrasted greatly with the light tan— even though her bare skin was lit red and gold by the rays of the setting sun.

I didn't think that she had sought out this far corner to hide out. For one thing, nearly her entire naked body was now lit up by the sun. For another, I was facing her right side: her slender right leg was very prettily stretched all the way out; her left leg was bent at the knee. In this position her furry thatch of dark hair down there was clearly visible.

Was she simply enjoying the sunset, or was she longing for the outside world in which pretty girls were still allowed to wear clothes?

I hesitated. I felt almost dizzy, as if I was teetering on a precipice between my foolish youth and my unknown— and very frightening— adulthood.

I slowly opened my mouth—

"This may sound strange, coming from a naked girl," the naked girl said, "but I feel a presence, gazing upon me." She turned and her whole face lit up. My world lit up. Her big brown eyes got bigger and brighter and her smile melted my heart. I was lost. "I guess my spider-sense is only partly functioning," she continued. "I did not sense that the male gazing upon me had such deep blue eyes!"

I was in love.

Lest you think this was only because I was eighteen, or only because the girl in question was completely nude, I still fall in love with random females fifteen years later. And, the vast majority are fully clothed.

I made a quick decision to sit down next to her to continue our introductory phase. There was just something intrusive about a fully clothed male looming over such a sweet naked lady.

We had by now ascertained by the name on the white ribbon dangling enticingly over what would have been her cleavage— if she had been dressed— that her name was indeed Elizabeth ("please call me Beth!")

Then she confirmed that my name was James. Until that moment, "James" had been reserved for a scolding parent. Her voice however was so perfect, so melodic, that my preferred name became "James" from then on.

She turned so nicely away from me so that I could do the honors of removing the ribbon from her pretty neck. Her back looked soft and smooth; the line of her back extending downward then flaring out into cute little seated buttocks that were as softly rounded as the rest of her.

She was trying so hard to be brave and not to blush, but my lightly trembling fingers still

felt the incredible heat from her body as I gently brushed some of her soft, dark brown hair away from her neck.

As she turned back to me to tie her pretty red ribbon around my left wrist, those probable 32Bs— a mere eighteen inches or so above my left hand— were the second set of pert and perky breasts thus presented to me that fateful night. Her nipples were small, matching aureola minimal, all a light coral and so understated, even in the last rays of the dying sun.

Task done, Beth straightened up and smiled at me.

"There we go. And of course, those deep blue eyes of yours are so uncertain of where you are allowed to look. You're my guy, and I'm your girl tonight; I'm naked for you and you are 'allowed' to look anywhere you like!" And with that declaration, Beth stood and positioned herself only a few feet in front of me, her pretty legs shaking only slightly.

"My breasts," she indicated with a sweep of both hands. I looked again from this new angle. "My... vulva or pussy or private parts... obviously no longer private! Another, lower sweep. I stared, as requested. When she was sitting pretty, there had been a slight cleft in that Valley of Fur. Now, standing with her legs slightly open, her cleft was an invitingly soft crevice filled to the brim with elegant and elongated coral-pink folds— the same color as her nipples/aureola— contrasting nicely with her creamy-white skin.

Before she turned, I caught a glimpse of the tiniest whitish-pink button. Did it just pop out or was it always out? Was I the cause or was it just this ridiculous situation? Even at that tender age I was embarrassed at witnessing something so private. It— and her— should've all been safely hidden under layers and layers of warm and comfortable clothes— not poking out in the face of a wide-eyed, leering but trying not to leer teenage boy.

Beth turned completely around, and the second naked lady in about ten minutes wiggled her sweet round butt cheeks for me as she blushed so sweetly. I've loved curvy female bottoms that fit into my hands ever since that night. Naked women walking away may not be presenting their sweetest side, but oh: the twitch and the bounce of those sacred female mounds.

"Ta da! My body; in it's entirety!"

I felt like applauding. Part of me wanted to give her a standing ovation— and very nearly was.

She sat back down with the daintiness of a girl wearing petticoats— remarkable for a girl whose ass was bare. I kept looking at her face and then glancing at her body; taking her in all at once from her creamy shoulders to her scrunched-up little toes.

Then Beth seemed to make a decision. She placed her right hand right between our bodies: her bare body, my clothed body.

She nodded.

I took her hand so gingerly but then she gripped me so tight.

"I like you," she said softly, eyes turned toward the windows. "You're so quiet, and you're trying so hard to be a gentleman, but you clearly love looking at me. Don't you know that makes this all worth it? All my fussing in front of my mirror, the non-stop butterflies in my tummy: you love looking at me!"

We leaned toward each other without a second thought (or even a first thought) and we shared the most chaste kiss a naked girl ever shared with anyone before.

Beth's face lit up as we leaned back.

"First kiss nonsense over with; now let's talk!"

And... did we talk!

We were both nearly decided on majoring in English Lit. We both were nutty about the same authors: Yeats, Fitzgerald, Frost, Bradbury, Shirley Jackson, Leguin. And then we moved on to movies. And then we moved on to our shared love of history. There were so many historic old homes, historic sites, and scenic walks to breathtaking overlooks in and near our college town that Beth was somehow already planning our next three or four dates.

We had skipped a step— or two or three steps— somewhere along the way. Was the unspoken need to get the girl naked in the normal clothed dating cycle such a waste of time that we had gleefully skipped past it? Who would have known? Maybe a naked dating service wasn't such a silly concept.

What wonders was I staring at in Beth's lovely naked state? For some reason, I became obsessed with her tummy.

I kept trying to make her laugh; when she laughed, her slightly soft tum would constrict and then suddenly let go, jiggling just a bit. The effect was... it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. I vowed to spend hours— or days— kissing and touching Beth's sweet tummy, showing it the love it so deserved.