Naked People Make Me Fall Asleep

Why the Asexual Is Thinking About You Naked

Not long ago I met a photographer who processes photography in old-timey ways—daguerrotypes, rather than Polaroids. (His name is Nicolas Laborie and his work is pretty neato.)

Nicolas is interested in gender and how people present themselves and so on so we had a thought-provoking chat and exchanged social media information, as you do these days.

After we parted ways, he looked at my website, which puts right out there that I’m asexual and kinky and a lesbian and whatever else. And somehow we got onto the subject of whether people were more interesting with or without clothing on. (I think it was a question posed on twitter you were supposed to retweet with your answer about which you found more interesting.)

I said I found clothed people more interesting by far, which he was intrigued by.

Nicolas is a photographer and artist so it’s understandable that he’d find nudity beautiful and the human canvas and… whatever people think. I can sort of understand it, but naked people do nothing for me.

You’re a Blank Canvas…Mostly

It’s not that I find nudity offensive or dirty or gross or anything—obviously, it’s natural. You’re not born with clothes on.

But to me bodies are bodies. They’re just there. I’ve spoken before about how I don’t care about food or sex. You have to have food to keep yourself alive. Your body is there to carry around your brain.

A naked body doesn’t tell me a great deal about the person inside it. Now, I can look at certain sizes, shapes and gender presentations and think, ‘You have had to put up with a lot of bullshit that I haven’t’ or ‘Wow… the story about that scar must be something else… that that person can tell me in their own time.’ Or ‘That is a person who used to have lots of money. Now they have lots of tattoos. Those on the ribs must’ve hurt, woo.’

In general, though, I’m not learning much.

(I’m so used to seeing people with at least one tattoo now, that when a person doesn’t have any—or if they have no moles or freckles or other marks, they just look… blank.)

There’s a particular fascination to flawless skin, but when it’s an entire body it seems like something that’s waiting to have an image projected onto it.

Because I don’t sexualise nudity it’s all body parts to me. Which only sounds a little like something a serial killer would say.

But clothing—that tells me loads about you. How you feel about yourself that day. How you feel about the world. What you could find in the dark after that one-night-stand.

Clothes have thousands more textures and layers—both figuratively and literally—than bodies.

The Clothes Don’t Make the Woman…but They Don’t Hurt, Either

Some clothes, on some people, carry a particular frisson for me. A woman in a pinstripe suit or a frock coat? I don’t care how emotionally connected I was to that same woman, seeing her naked wouldn’t be nearly as interesting. Even seeing her in lingerie wouldn’t be as intriguing. And it’s not the clothing, because that frock coat just lying on the bed or hanging up has no personality. It doesn’t have a Dominant woman in it. A tailored, black blazer and a white silk blouse can’t tell me how it likes its coffee then tell me to be good while it’s out at work during the day.

This is a frock coat. A Dominant Lady in this frock coat would have an easy life, indeed. (source)

It’s not all about the clothes on the Dominant woman—I’ll still happily sit at her feet if she’s in her comfy jim-jams with her hair up. And if she wants to be naked then that’s her choice and I’d never be the sort of s-type who was only interested in submitting if my Domme was wearing just the thing I like (or actually dressed at all, in my case). If being naked made my D-type happy, then naked she shall be. ‘And what SPF will that be, ma’am? Nipple burns are not to be trifled with.’

Brains vs Tongue First (Again)

I engage with the world intellectually rather than ‘tongue-first’, as a book my friend Bean recently discovered called it. Tongue-first is tasting, touching, smelling, sensing things rather than thinking about them—something I discussed in this essay. I’m decidedly in the brain-first camp, and due to that, I’m more interested in what a person looks like dressed for the reasons listed earlier. Your clothes give me more information about what’s important to me than your bare skin does.

(Also, naked people always look cold to me—probably because if I’m nude I’m cold so I’m projecting, but I always want to give the nudies a caftan or something.)

If you want to run your senses all over someone then it follows that nudity would be A+ in your book. The ‘goods’ are available for assessment, a naked person’s pheromones would probably be easier to smell than someone layered in textiles, their hairy, smooth, stubbly and…whatever else bits are there to be touched in whatever way you both agree is a-okay, and, if you were inclined to lick them, well, everything is at your disposal.

Seeing how a person holds themselves when naked would possibly give you an idea of how comfortable they were with their sexuality or within their own skin, as well, which would be useful information about their capacity for sensuality. Though you may not process it so coldly and rather intuit it.

The Squishy Bits

I have other thoughts on the genitals specifically, but I’ll save those for a future writing. I just know you want to know what the asexual thinks about genitals.

{This essay originally appeared in a slightly different format in episode 48 of The Pageist podcast during the My Submissive Life segment.}

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