Good Company
The night I found the absolute perfect balance of wholesome and horny.
It was not the first time I walked into a club to find a line of beautiful men getting naked and stuffing their clothes into a garbage bag.
I’ve been to my fair share of underwear parties at gay clubs: Events where you disrobe at a “clothing check” before prancing to the dance floor in a thong or a jock. I’ve also been to cruising clubs and bathhouses, where nudity is the default as you lurk in a labyrinth or steam room.
But here was something slightly different, a hybrid of sorts: A dance party at a gay club where the (obligatory) dress code was total nudity.
So after showing my ticket, I too start shedding layers and filling a blue plastic bag. My eyes wander, first to the men lined up next to me at the table, and then beyond to the sea of others filling the club’s adjacent rooms. I witness friends greeting each other with two kisses on the cheek, pulling each other in for naked hugs, socializing as if their skin is not bare for all to see.
After checking my textiles (and my phone), I wander into the crowd and find a long queue snaking the length of the club: The line for the buffet. Because of course there’s a buffet at the naked club night in Italy. Of course!
With my gin-tonic in hand, I slouch against a counter and wait for my friend Carlo1 to arrive. The gays around me are chatting up a storm, and a drag performer, wearing only a wig and makeup, is making rounds.
When Carlo arrives, we get in line for the buffet and fill little red plates with various combinations of bread and cheese. While we’re eating we bump into two other friends, and soon migrate over to the dance floor. The drag performer is finishing up a number. We all cheer and bop along and, when that gig is up, the music and dancing kick in.
😈 This is your content warning! 🌶️ If your sensibilities aren’t offended already, this post is only getting spicier from here.
Uncharacteristically, I’m eager to start dancing. I move my hips and try to get Carlo closer to me. He’s dancing too but I’m not sure if we’re going to be just friends tonight or more. We haven’t had sex since the first time we met (on Grindr), and the last two times we hung out were totally platonic. I let my hands graze his skin a couple times. He doesn’t recoil, but he doesn’t float closer, either.
Around me, in the mass of naked men, some pairs are staring to smush their mouths and dicks together. A truly beautiful sight, of bodies dancing and loving, free of shame.
For once at a gay club, the music is actually good, too. Like, they’re playing whole, real songs that I can recognize and sing along to for more than five seconds (what a concept)!
For a while we’re just dancing and vibing to absolute bangers by Britney Spears and Madonna. But at a certain point, our pod of friends (Carlo and the two others we ran into) drift closer to each other.
