Stripping was going to be awkward. Getting naked in front of a group of nude women was the last thing I wanted to do, especially with a growing boner. Even so, I decided that I had no choice but to comply. Clearly, I would eventually have to join the clothing optional norm of the colony.
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and unbuttoned my shirt, took it off, and laid it on the table. I then took my shoes and socks off and placed them next to my shirt. I undressed as slowly as possible, trying to drag things out for as long as I could in hopes my erection would go down.
I undid my belt, unzipped my jeans, let them slide down to my ankles, and stepped out of my pants. I tossed them into the air with a flip of my foot, caught them with my free hand, folded my jeans, and laid them on the table.
I remembered how my mother always told me to wear clean underwear in the unlikely event that I had to go to the hospital. I prayed that there were no visible racing stripes marking me as I stood in my tighty-whities. A small but noticeable bulge was making a tent in my shorts. I could feel myself blushing as I noticed Alice and her daughter staring at me with interest. All the colony's sisters seemed to be paying close attention to developments in fact.
The attention on my private parts by so many women produced a chilling effect on me. A wave of apprehension spread across my body. Being naked was the ultimate in performance anxiety. I knew that my junk was about as average as you could get; my circumcised penis measured five and a quarter inches when fully erect and just under three inches when flaccid. If the girls expected a well-endowed porn star, I would not measure up.
I removed my T-shirt next, folded it, and placed it on top of my jeans. I stood dressed only in my underwear for a few moments as I worked up the nerve for the final act. I debated with myself; I had few choices: I could either chicken out, or I could drop my drawers.
Well, I would give them a show since they apparently wanted one. I slowly lowered my shorts and exposed a patch of light brown and gray pubic hair. I paused and then turned away from the table and slowly slid my shorts to a half-mast position, leaving half my buttocks exposed. I slowly lowered them to my knees after another dramatic pause, and then let them drop to my ankles.
I turned around, faced the women, and proceeded to do an exaggerated bow from the waist with my arms spread wide. I heard Alice's daughter giggle. There was a smattering of happy amused laughter from the sisters.
Thank God! My fear and stalling tactics worked; my erection subsided to the point where my prick was only semi-stiff, halfway between flaccid and hard.
"Well done and nicely played," Sheila said with a smile, as she gave me a thumbs up.
"I think this would be a good time for you to introduce yourself to our group, Dennis. Why don't you take a few minutes and tell us about yourself," Alice said.
"Thank you, Alice. That's an excellent suggestion. You have the floor, Dennis," Sheila said.
Chapter 6
The sisters' leader was testing me. Earlier she had wanted to know if nudity by the colony's women would bother me. Now she was testing the sisters to find out if my nudity would bother them; quite clever actually.
I'd done my share of public speaking over the years, but it was different this time. There's a certain something about standing naked in front of an audience which compels honesty. I decided to give a very brief and unvarnished account of my life thus far. I stood in thought with my head bowed for several minutes.
Two things worked for me during this interlude; the first was an old showman's trick: keep the audience in suspense by never starting on time.
The second was a political trick: use any extended silence to buy time and gather your thoughts and wits. Show your audience that you're thoughtful and caring, or as my dad used to say, “Sincerity is everything. If you can fake that you've got it made.” I was going to use the body language of my audience to gauge my reception while I spoke.
"Hello. My name is Dennis Nathan Richards, and I was born in New Haven, Connecticut. I am a retired Vietnam Veteran with a one hundred percent unemployable disability from Agent Orange exposure while in Saigon. I served in the United States Air Force, mostly in Japan and Vietnam.
I searched the faces of the sisters while I spoke as I tried to access my ability to engage each woman at a deeper and more positive level. I was, in essence, trying to seduce a room full of naked lesbians. Talk about your lost cause.
"You can stop me at any time if you want to ask a question. I would rather this be a dialogue and not a monolog," I said in an effort to break the ice.
The invitation to ask questions resulted in one brown-haired woman tentatively raising her hand. I asked her to remind me of her name, and she said, "My name is Amelia. One question ... you said you got a monthly disability check from the VA. What kind of disability? You seem to be in good shape."
"Good question, Amelia. My disability is mostly invisible. Type II Diabetes because of exposure to Agent Orange while in Vietnam. And, more specifically, severe neuropathy in my right hand and in my feet, which is a side-effect of Diabetes."
"What are the effects of your neuropathy?" Amelia asked as a follow-up question.
"Neuropathy is nerve damage as a result of too much sugar in my blood. In my case, the result is numbness and tingling in my hands and feet. The other effect is rather embarrassing," I said as I paused. I was not sure how much detail I wanted to get into.
"Do not stop there. Please explain," Amelia asked as she pressed me for more information.
"Well, sometimes I, um, it's difficult to get it up and keep it up," I reluctantly volunteered to the group.
Amelia and several of her sisters nodded. I noticed that Sheila and Alice were paying very close attention to the conversation.
"The result sometimes is a limp dick, for lack of better words, when the nerves connecting my prick to my brain shut down due to high sugar levels," I answered.
Several sisters responded with stifled laughter or nervous giggles and additional follow-up questions. Sex is always an interesting conversation. I had their attention at least.
"Can you still orgasm?" Alice asked with a look of concern on her face.
"Yes. Even when flaccid, a guy can still ejaculate. It just takes a little more effort, and it's not nearly as much fun," I explained.
"I don't understand. Darlene says you're a fantastic lover. How can that be if you don't get hard?" Alice asked. I heard several sisters say, "I was wondering the same thing."
"My goal or mission as a lover is to provide the necessary emotional and physical stimulation required for my partner to achieve an orgasm. I do that orally," I said.
Standing stark naked in front of a table full of attractive and nude women while talking about orgasms and oral sex was having unintended consequences. I could feel my semi-flaccid penis begin to stiffen. There was no way to hide my growing arousal.
"I thought you said that you couldn't get hard, but you apparently can," one of the women observed.
"I get an erection sometimes, and sometimes I don't. It tends to be a hit or miss affair. My prick has a mind of its own, and I can never depend on it to respond as I want it to. It's all rather embarrassing and frustrating," I explained as I shared far more information than I wanted.
Looking at several sisters' body language, I saw signs of what looked like sexual responses from about half of them. Nipples had slightly hardened, many had leaned forward a bit more than usual, their faces relaxed and smiling or friendly neutral. Body postures showed a focused interest. At some primal level, pheromones floated like mist in the air, and my body was responding.
I looked down at my gradually stiffening penis; I covered myself with my hand. "Sorry about that, but all this talk about sex and stuff seems to be having an effect on my hardware, as I'm sure everyone can see. It never seems to respond like I want it to, as I said, and a public boner is rather awkward," I explained. I could feel the heat of a blush burn across my body.
Darlene came to my rescue. She walked up to me and gave me a big hug and lingering kiss, and then turned to face her companions while holding my free hand. "I think Dennis is thinking about the lovemaking session we'll have when we go to bed," she said with a foxy grin.
Darlene started to rub my ass while she stood next to me, much to her sisters' amusement. The sensation of her warm hand massaging my bare behind did nothing to diminish my arousal. I continued to stiffen to about three-quarters erect, a little less than four inches, under her playful touch.