Nude Therapy - Phase 05 - CFNM

Okay: it was technically Phase 3 of the Intimacy Portion of the Nudity Project. But this is my fifth story that I've shared with you of those crazy, early naked days... those days when nudity in public and at work was downright shocking. I was right there in the middle of it all, from the very beginning...

Anne rushed in, a little late as usual. It was Monday, our first day back to work after our honeymoon at an All Nude Caribbean resort. That whole island country had basically gone nudist in response to America's sudden obsession with all things au natural. We got home late on Saturday night and yes, I was dressed by then and I also wore clothes on Sunday.

Why am I emphasizing the common habit of wearing clothes? Because I was eating my morning bagel and drinking my morning coffee stark naked-- and I was going into work that way. This Monday, my company was experimenting with Phase 3 Nudity: Clothed Females, Naked Males. Why was I going through with this insanity? Because I needed my job and because the prospect of working nude and being teased and groped by women all day was exciting.

Anne was wearing a pretty little sundress that showed off her incredibly long bare legs. She was carrying one of those Certified Nude totes. The logo was a big "C. N" in which the big dot between the letters was the head of a nude female figure, like you see on ladies room doors. Although, this was no stick figure! This caricature of a naked lady had big breasts and was standing with hands on her hips and her legs rudely open.

Anne stared at me and frowned. She looked amazing as usual: short dark brown hair, a cute little pixie face, and a lingerie model's body and legs. I licked my lips as I knew that she had absolutely nothing on under that sundress. She would soon be slipping into flip flops and walking the two blocks north to the closest Certified Nude zone. There, the sundress would come off and go into her tote and her cellphone would come out. She would only enter her Nude Uber if the barcodes matched and the door automatically opened for its next naked passenger.

Anne's company was still in their transition period to all-the-time Full Female Nudity called "Naked Monday." There was actually a TV commercial for it: a harried executive is rushing into his office. His secretary is getting up to hand him a note. "Nothing makes Mondays better" states the voiceover "than remembering it's Naked Monday." The camera cuts to behind her desk to show that this pretty professional is totally bare-ass above her sexy high heels. The harried exec is now grinning from ear to ear.

There's a framed color photo in our hallway that I can see from the table. Supposed to be one of the first Naked Mondays and a lucky photographer was there to capture the ladies as they walked out gloriously nude for the very first time. Seven or eight lovely ladies; most are trying to be brave with big scared wide eyes and plastered-on little smiles. Though, one unabashed hottie spotted the photographer and is starting to lift up her sweet tits for him. Yet another girl has her hands up over her face.

But what gets to me is a guy standing up and applauding to the left. He looks so goddamned happy that I swear he has tears in his eyes. That's the way I feel: we've always loved working with women, but now that they're naked we can show them our love all day and they definitely have all of our undivided attention.

"You're not walking out like that, are you?" Anne was impatiently waiting for the Keurig to fill her travel mug. It was funny: that was a line that wives have used on their husbands ever since Mrs. Lincoln criticized what Old Abe was wearing to the theater that night.

"It's only two short blocks to the Zone. And look at my legs-- long and fast."

Anne shook her head and glanced at her watch. "You could still get in trouble on those two short blocks." She paused. "You're loving this, aren't you. You want somebody to see you naked." She glanced at my lap and she didn't need a lie detector. Silly thing gave us guys away every time.

"Well... I was gonna say 'suit yourself,' but..."

She bent down and kissed me and gave my stubbornly hard member a little love tap.

"I've got to run. Please tell me you at least have shorts and a tee in that bag."

I gave her a thumbs up as she ran out the door, already summoning her Nude Uber.

I followed her out in a few minutes. I slipped into my flip flops at the door, dropped my keys and phone into the handy tote pockets-- and stepped outside my townhouse, naked.

I had of course been nude outside before-- my entire honeymoon, I didn't wear a thing for six nights and seven days. But this was way different: anyone could see me, and this was still technically illegal.

I was breathing hard and my penis was rather reluctantly softening. I could see the Certified Nude zone only three hundred feet ahead. Yes! There was a naked female jogger, wearing nothing but sneakers and socks and an open-shelf jogging bra. She was a real cutie-- probably eighteen or nineteen, a college coed from the university that was only a mile or so farther up the road.

"Well! David! Haven't you umm... forgotten something?!"

I stopped dead and turned. It was my sixty-something neighbor, Mrs. Murray, out walking her pug, Maxwell Smart.

Max was looking at me strangely. Mrs. Murray-- Lorraine explained: "He's not used to seeing you this way; nor am I! Oh my goodness! Who knew what you had packed away under those tight little shorts of yours?!"

I was... what?! Do all women get this way when they have a naked man in their sights? I really think they're worse than us guys!

I stammered and blushed as I tried to explain Phase Three at work; how it was our turn to work naked.

"Makes me wish I was still gainfully employed," she laughed. "Although, with this body, I don't know about me going all bare!"

Lorraine had dyed blonde shoulder length hair that she had let go gray and silver. She still had a pretty, mischievous face. Her body had gotten a bit thick as in many older ladies: her bust waist and hips all seemed to have merged into one unit.

"I really have to run," I said, trying to escape. "I'm really sorry about this..."

"Oh, don't be sorry at all! You just made my day, week, month, year..." Her eyes were twinkling as she thoroughly examined my naked form. She did have a pretty face and her DD+ bust-line was still impressive.

"Just do me a slow turn before you go; let me see the boy."

I couldn't believe it but I sighed and did what I was told. It was gonna be like this all day at work; might as well get used to it!

When I turned back to face her again, my penis took this as an occasion to get happy. I was at half-mast and rising.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Murray was whispering as she looked around, then back at my cock. "Step behind these bushes, you poor man! At least until you get control of yourself!"

I tried to protest but then she put an arm around my waist as her hand dropped to my bare butt and I was practically pushed. Poor Maxwell ended up with his leash all wrapped around a fire hydrant. He let out a puzzled bark: why was his owner taking ME for a walk?

Once behind the bushes, Lorraine made a big show of looking all around. "I heard that if you give it and the boys a squeeze, it goes back down."

I couldn't process what she was trying to say. Then Lorraine's manicured hand was between my legs, cupping my balls and squeezing my cock and my scrotum together.

I gasped.

She was looking right into my eyes. "Just relax while I squeeze these bad boys a little more..."

Wow! At first I was so hard although she really was applying the pressure. I looked more closely at that sweet face, those smiling eyes, then down at her breasts. She would have years of experience under her belt in pleasing men...

I had nowhere else to put my hands, so I placed them lightly on her hips, drawing her closer.

"Naughty boy," she whispered, as she squeezed even harder. We both looked down. There was a big drop of pre-cum oozing out. It seemed to hang suspended, then it fell onto her fingers. I tried to apologize.

"Sshh... sshh..." she cooed. "Not only was that perfectly natural, I am thrilled that that particular drop of your love was for an old lady like me. I am going to happily lick you off my fingers after you're gone."

We looked back into each others eyes. I felt so strangely close to her then-- we had just shared such a moment of sexual intimacy.

She squeezed harder and kept murmuring "Relax, relax, relax. Such a big boy, but now you're safe in my hand."

Then Mrs. Murray, my three doors down sixty-something neighbor, finally and reluctantly let go of my now softened penis.

"See? There you go." She patted my ass."Anytime you need help with things like that, just let me know!" She winked. "Of all the wickedness I could have gotten into with a beautiful naked young man after all these years-- and I go and make him soft!"

I kissed her cheek as I sprinted away from her. She turned quickly and tried to make it lips on lips but I was just too fast.

"Oh my god you even look good leaving!" she called out to my bobbing bare ass.

Holy shit! How could I ever face that woman again? She would occasionally ask me over to help her with something-- what if she now expected me to be her naked handyman?

I sent for my Nude Uber and I was so lucky it was just around the block. I held up my phone as we matched bar codes and the passenger door slid open and I slid in.

The naked driver was looking at me in her mirror. Over 75% of all Nude Uber drivers were female, and all women were required to be as naked as their passengers. They were in what amounted to an ultra-secure, sealed driver's bubble. There were cameras on both of us-- someone was monitoring us live.

My nude driver was a dark-haired petite little number with tiny poky tits-- all I could see from my vantage point.

"I don't get many naked guys this time of day," she observed, with a light Spanish accent.

"Do you get many at all?" I enquired.

She shrugged her bare shoulders. "Certain guys who go to certain clubs. You know, once they heard all the girls were getting naked, they said 'so can we!'"

We smiled at each other in the mirror. "So... what is the occasion?" she asked.

I explained it all over again. My second lady in ten minutes who wondered why I was wandering around with no clothes on.

"Oh my!" she laughed. "You are going to have fun today, but I bet the ladies will have even more fun. They've been storing it up you know; putting up with being stared at naked and felt up all day. Now it's your turn!"

I had to smile into the mirror but then I turned away. If my older neighbor's reaction was any kind of precedent, today was going to be... interesting.

I'd completely forgotten that Nude Ubers had to let their passengers off in front of our building; I was so used to the parking garage. This was not a C. N. zone. I gingerly climbed out and had about fifteen feet to go to the glassy, automatic doors. And I was naked.

I didn't look around. I was determined. "Holy shit!" a male voice across the street. "It's a fucking naked guy!"

"Should we still get a video?" another male voice.

"Nah," said original voice, dismissing me. "He's not showing his stuff, so how many hits would that ass get?"

Hey! I was offended. A very nice lady just told me I had a great ass.

As I strode to the elevators, I caught the eye of the security guard behind the front desk. He was staring, trying to figure me out. Then, in about three seconds a look of realization crossed his face and he gave me a thumbs up. It was to say 'it's our turn to be naked? Enjoy it!" I sincerely echoed the intent behind that sentiment.

As I rode the elevator up alone, I found myself a little worried about the reception I would get from our normally nude receptionist. Barb was a forty-nine-year-old bundle of pure muscle from countless leg lifts and bench presses. Okay, she scared me!

I turned the corner up on our floor not knowing what to expect. Ella, my boss, had teased that the female employees would be dressed to impress... well, they'd be dressed to keep us guys hard!

Nothing could have prepared me-- Barb had on a skimpy black dominatrix outfit-- a black cap with visor, a black open shelf bra with her nipples painted black, long black leather gloves with open black-nailed fingers, and a convenient whip on her desk. Oh my! And I hadn't even seen her below the waist...

She stood up. Holy...

Barb had on black stockings attached to black garters that framed her leather, open vulva thong. Her inner lips were rudely sticking out, and I wondered if she routinely pulled on them to keep up that effect.

Of course I had seen Barb nude before. Every Friday I would take on about five female employees who would enter my office nude, one by one, and take turns easing their open cunts down onto my throbbing cock. It was wonderful having the girl do all the work to keep me hard: a squeeze of their internal muscles, a naughty bounce up and down, while all I did was lie back and play with each new pair of tits.

This was different. Barb grabbed her whip and came around the low wall in front of her reception desk. "Flip-flops off," she barked, "no clothes allowed AT ALL!"

I did as I was told and she kicked them away. "Hands on your head, legs spread and slowly turn for me." When I had done a 180, she ran the whip against my ass crack and then gave me a smack with her hand. Fully turned around, I was hard as hell and turning red.

But Barb was grinning. "Good reaction! You missed our meeting Friday; just remember to keep that big guy hard all day. We will be insulted if you get soft and you will be punished." She opened my tote which I had dropped on the floor and pulled out my shorts and tee. "I'm confiscating these; you'll get them back when you leave." Then she dropped in one of those travel-sized baby oil bottles. "These are already warmed. You'll find fresh ones throughout the office all day in case you need extra lubrication."

"Okay, drop your hands and hold out your dick." Barb was bending close, hands on her knees. "Balls too-- lift 'em high!" She reached forward and touched a finger to my hole. Another drop of pre-cum appeared. Barb dipped her finger into it, sniffed it and then tasted it.

"You haven't had sex today, right?"

I shook my head, afraid to speak.

Barb reached down and pushed my hands away and became the second woman in the last hour to cup my testicles in her hand. "Nice and hard," she observed. "I'll bet you deliver quite a load." She looked around, stood up and whispered: "I'm selecting one guy to give me a really good fuck before we all go home. You're only my fourth candidate so far, but I will keep your beautiful cock in mind!"

Just when I thought we were done she attached a white plastic collar around my neck. It had a lanyard dangling with a clear plastic pouch intended for a photo badge. I strained to look down and saw that it was stuffed with index cards instead.

Barb pulled one out and casually ran her hand over my chest hair, down to my belly, then gave my penis a little squeeze. She leaned over the reception wall and scribbled something with a company pen. I was taking in that taut, hard-muscled ass of hers.

She turned around and smiled as my cock was pointed skyward. "Good boy! You love momma's hard ass." She slipped the card back into the plastic. "Notes for your next handler," she explained. Barb put her hands back on her knees and then out of nowhere put her mouth around the head of my cock. She swirled her tongue around and made some "Mmmm" sounds.

Barb let me pop out, stood up and licked her lips. "That's how good, hard boys get rewarded. Bad boys..." she reached for her whip, curled it and smacked my ass. "So be good today!" and then she waved me off, dismissively.

I padded down the hallway in a real state of unfulfilled arousal; I guess I would have to get used to that. I rounded the first corner and nearly bumped into Stephen, our straight out-of-college intern. He actually yelped and spun around to face me-- most unusual for one naked guy to another. He was way too late: I saw more than a glimpse of what looked like a Playboy bunny tail sticking out of his ass.

He backed away mumbling things like "Wow this is crazy!" and "Sorry!" I don't make a habit of checking out other guys but there it was. Stephen was short-- maybe 5' 6"-- and I guessed his unimpressive cock was proportional. I'm sure he didn't realize he was doing it, but his hand kept going down there, trying to rub it into a much harder condition.

At last he disappeared. Holy crap! Who would put a bunny-tail butt-plug inside that poor guy! It was only 9:15-- did he dare to walk in on Barb without a hard-on?

I made it to my office deliberately not looking for Tami, my extremely hot and sweet and totally amazing new personal assistant. Of course we had already seen each other nude during her "interview"-- during which we very nearly had full intercourse, which is something like 110% against company policy.

"Company policy;" what would the company think if they found out I had taken the virginity of a sweet college girl two weeks ago Sunday, right here in my office?! She had for some strange reason picked me to be the one, and then company policy as well as any half-baked commitment to remain sort of faithful in some way to Anne flew straight out the same office window.

There was an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper taped to my door: "No hiding out in offices for naked men today-- you are assigned to work in the open sales area. Hard penises must be kept in plain sight!"

I just shook my head. I recognized Ella's block print. I was sure my boss would be along shortly to personally conduct an inspection to make sure that I was actually getting some work done while maintaining an impressive-enough erection.

I strolled determinedly toward my open sales area.

"Aren't you even the least bit curious to see me... to see how I dressed... so to speak... for your special day?"

I stopped dead. It was the sweet, very professional voice of my beyond lovely P. A., twenty-five-year-old, redheaded Tami. Her voice alone would make any man hard.

Her office was right across from mine. I took a deep breath and walked right in, damned penis bobbing up and down. It was good that I had taken the time to breathe...

Tami was standing in front of her desk, providing me with a full view. She had on white stay-on stockings that went almost all the way up to her white thong panties. Oh, and to complete the theme, her high heels were also white. What a contrast to her long red hair, and to her sparkling blue eyes.

Did I mention that she had absolutely nothing on above her tiny waist but a choker of faux pearls around her pretty neck? I had confirmed that her luscious breasts were 32C, they were now rising and falling slightly more than usual-- I had stopped breathing, Tami's breathing was seemingly getting out of control.

"Are you okay?" I went up and put my hands on her bare shoulders. She started to go into full hug mode, then she remembered my current condition.

"Ummm...." Tami tore off a paper towel from a roll on her desk, folded it and handed it to me. "It's embarrassing but, Ella has me all dressed in white--"

"Half-dressed," I corrected.

"Anyway," she continued, "can you just pad a certain something before we hug?"

I understood. I was pointed upward and constantly leaking. I carefully positioned the folded paper between my downstairs head and Tami's bare belly before I hugged her back.

"This is weird, right?" I asked.

"Very," she agreed. "I'm one of the last hired so Ella informed me she would dictate how I dressed. How was your honeymoon?"

"It was hot and we both were naked." I pulled back a little to take in her soft, curvy form as I rubbed her back. "You look snd you feel so goddamned good to me," I breathed out.