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When Eve Met Adam by Kay Masters Adam woke up as he did every morning, covered in light dew where he lay in the soft, luxurious grass. He got up and looked about the Garden of Eden, remembering with a grin the previous night, when God had taken the stage. "I see we've got a human in the crowd tonight," said God, up to his weekly comedy routine. "Maybe I should speak slower." The crowd of creatures present broke out laughing. "But seriously, I love this guy," God went on. "I made him in my own image, you know. When I told my therapist that, he booked me for another year to work on my self loathing." Another fit of laughter. "Some ask where I got the name Adam for him. See, I pulled him out of the earth and I just thought to myself, 'ah, damn' and it stuck." Laughter again. Adam joined in. He was a good sport, always could take a ribbing from God. And now that he lay on the grass on the morning after, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it still felt like his sides were splitting. He put an experimental hand to his rib cage. Something was missing... "Hello!" came a new voice, a high and cheery one that Adam had never heard before. "You must be Adam. God said we should hook up. My name is Eve." A new figure stepped out of the foliage and Adam, as he had done with everything else, named her for the first thing that came out of his mouth when he saw her. "Whoa, man!" he said, standing up to greet her. Eve the whoaman was instantly Adam's new favorite of all of God's creations, punting the kangaroo to a distant second place. She came forward to shake his hand, her hair long and beautiful, her smile warm and friendly, clad in nothing but her created-day suit, and her entire being apparently made from soft curves. "I was made out of one of your ribs," explained Eve. "Wow," said Adam. "I must have excellent ribs." Eve shrugged. "So anyhow, why don't you show me around here?" "Sure thing!" said Adam. "Follow me. That over there is the Fig Tree. It looks like it's starting to put out the fall fashions. I guess brown is in again this year. Oh, and that over there is the Apple Tree. You're not supposed to eat from that one." "Why not?" said Eve. "I am not sure. God said that Apples do nothing but cause problems. Just don't eat from it." "Okay. Hey, what's that over there?" And thus, Eve pointed randomly off to the side in what was thereafter known as the oldest trick in the book. Adam turned to look and Eve grabbed an Apple off the tree and took a big bite. "I don't see anything," said Adam. "What are you... hey, you're not supposed to eat that!" "But it's good! Besides, while we are not burdened by doctors yet, we might as well eat one a day to keep them away." "Gotcha," said Adam, taking an Apple of his own. "By the way," said Eve. "Which came first? The chicken, or the egg? I've got a bet going with a goat." "The chicken did," said Adam. "God learned his lesson when he put down all those dinosaur eggs while I was a-rarin' for breakfast." "Ah-ha." "Hey, what are you doing?" said God, suddenly appearing behind them. "Well, I'll be damning. I can't leave you kids alone for one minute, can I?" "Obviously not," said Eve. "Well, this'll call for a little punishment. Get out of the garden, both of you. From now on you'll have to suffer the toils and pains of manual labor, child birth, bad weather, taxes, mainstream media, and politicians." "Oh, well," said Adam, putting an arm around Eve. "So long as we have each other." "And I'm tweaking the dress code," said God. "From now on, it's clothes covering both of you at all times." Adam has not forgiven that one yet.***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Tuesday I had to speak on taxes and investments at the local college. I just love college towns. Our town is very small, but because of the college, we have a very high number of PYG's. We have the added pleasure of being a tourist destination. This keeps the well of beauty from drying up when the college girls go home for the summer. Running late as usual, I had been going over my notes on my laptop while driving. I pulled into a parking space and tried to finish preparing for my seminar. Taxes are boring so it came as no surprise when a pretty girl caught my eye and my attention. This time of year we have very cold mornings and very warm afternoons. You never know quite how to dress. This girl had it figured out. She was wearing a warm and fuzzy blue sweater the accentuated her breasts, and a very short cotton mini-skirt. She had firm tanned legs that hinted at a very active lifestyle. Did I mention that our mountains give the PYG's plenty of opportunities to hike, swim, mountain bike and ski? This must have been my lucky day. Her car was parked next to mine. I thought I would try DOMAI's theory of staring openly instead of getting caught peeking. It obviously worked because she gave me the sweetest smile as she walked between her car and mine. Evidently, she needed to get something out of the passenger seat because she leaned in the passenger window with her back to me. My staring was rewarded when she leaned far enough for me to see her white cotton panties with tiny red roses on them. I slowly drunk in the beauty of her long smooth legs from beginning to end. Suddenly I realized she wasn't moving. She had looked back over her shoulder and caught me staring. She flashed another of those sweet smiles as if to say, "Its okay. I'll stay here until you are finished looking." I smiled back and, without breaking eye contact, she slowly stood up. As she walked away I decided to never again glance or peek as if I was doing something wrong. She dressed that way because she wanted men to look at her. Why should I deny her the pleasure and confirmation of knowing that she truly is a work of art? At 33 I am now a full fledged "Dirty Old Man."
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Dear DOMAI Let me just preface this note with a little about myself. My entire life I have been conditioned to not look at women. Not by my parents or anything like that (my upbringing was really quite liberal). I first started to notice women at six or seven, but that was mostly on TV, as the female form tended not to be showcased around my suburban home. If there was someone to be seen, then I looked, but then looked away so as not to let my parents know that I had any interest (when they were around anyways). Fast forward to my high school years, where the female form began to make itself much more available to my eyes. Did I look? Constantly. Did I make it known? Unfortunately not. Since then I had become quite the master of stealing glances, a skill that was only serving to let me torture myself better. Then recently, I happed upon DOMAI through a link of a link of a link. After admiring all of the gorgeous models, and even trying to replicate a few of them with my drawings I got a chance to read a good portion of "the essentials" as well as the past newsletters. I finally realized what I was doing to myself. This happened a few weeks ago, and I have since strived to stop the censure of my eyes. This is unfortunately a hard thing to overcome, as I'm sure many readers know full well. I have made some improvements, and even at this very early stage I'm beginning to reap the rewards. I now receive many more smiles from Pretty Young Girls who seem to approve of my approval. It's definitely a very good feeling, both the beauty they have, and the fact that they don't mind my enjoying it. I just can't say thanks enough for this site and all the writings (and pictures) contained within. DOMAI was certainly the key in unlocking my desire to view beauty. Simply put, DOMAI has changed my life. With great thanks, Zach
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Currently unemployed due to a disability I have had time to "Work the Web." I found your web site via English Wife and have enjoyed it for a few days now. I am impressed for it expresses very much my own feelings and philosophy as though you have read my mind. By using my computer and logging onto your site did you adjust your words or my mind to match the thinking almost perfectly???? That might be another story for a Science Fiction writer. Inspired by stories from others that you have placed into your newsletter I would like to submit the following about a father reliving an experience through the eyes of his son. I have read almost all your newsletter archive and was inspired to tell of a long ago experience I had which follows: I was in the Navy, lonely, and divorced, but I had the great fortune to be able to visit with my son whenever I pleased. He was in his high teens and we were finding it harder to communicate as he aged toward manhood. Despite this we had one hobby that bound us and bridged, though flimsy, the painful gap between us. We backpacked as often as possible for we lived in an area that had many state and national parks and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) sites within a days drive from his home. On this particular outing we started under a gray sky and a gray mood also hovered around my son for he had earlier showed reluctance to start this trip because he expected it to rain for the whole time on the trail. We arrived at the trail head late so we camped there as we had expected we would have to do. There was only one other car sitting at the trail head. We suspected that itâs occupants had already started into their hike earlier. Pleased with the fact that we would have the trail essentially to ourselves the next day because the others would be a distance ahead of us we bedded down just as the sky opened and dropped large raindrops onto our tent. With the patter of rain on our tent fly we slept fitfully. In the morning we heaved our packs onto our backs with their 6 days of meals, extra water and the wet tent. In short order my son was a distance ahead with his strong legs and a body that was about twenty plus years younger. It was the usual routine for us on these trips. In his younger days I was able to keep up to his short strides but as he gained height, and an athletic grace that I never had, he would go ahead and wait at a turn in the trail or a particularly beautiful view for me to come huffing and puffing from behind. As the gap between us grew his insolence was demonstrated by how far ahead he would get and the breaks I needed to catch my breath would be shortened by the abrupt slinging of his pack and going on ahead. For the lunch break my son had picked a resting place near a bubbling and very lively stream, no doubt enhanced by the rains the previous night. As we sat on the bank we bared our feet to dangle them in the cool water. We began the break in silence, my son was wanting to speak but words were difficult for him. After eating we lay on our packs for a short siesta. He spoke. He told me of his dreams, his fears and hopes. They echoed through my memory as they were the same as mine when I was his age. I remained silent. Thinking how could I be reassuring without sounding like a parent but as someone that has been there. I slowly began about what being a man is about and what a gentleman is and how similar yet how unalike they can be and how to choose when and what to be in situations that he may encounter in life. The thoughts of honor and integrity that a man should use as a guide in these times of decision As I rambled on in a low tone we became aware of sounds of laughter as light as the sound of the bubbling stream. We remained silent as the human sounds approached. Sitting as we did, with our feet crossed and leaning against our packs and bushes around us we knew we were virtually invisible. At the downstream end we were both surprised to see two ladies in the nude and walking up the middle of the stream. The sunlight filtering through the trees, the sparkle in the water and the tan on their bodies made them look almost like forest nymphs. We watched as they approached but we were too enthralled to even breath. They had similar looks about the face and the bodies were of like proportions and shape. One was older. The other was most likely the daughter. As they approached I thought it best to warn them of our presence so I coughed and made sounds of clearing my throat. They stopped and whispered to each other then continued toward us. My son then said, in a louder than necessary voice, that we should continue our hike. I shook my head yes as we slowly stood up and made stretching motions as though we were napping. They did not hesitate to continue their approach. They stood in the stream directly in front of us and smiled widely with the glow of enthusiasm demonstrated in the young of heart. They mentioned that they saw us as we had passed their camp of the night before. It turns out that they set their tent up in the rain and most all their clothes were wet. When we had passed by them my son, in his hurry took little notice, and in my own lumbering way, with my head down, I had also failed to notice. We talked as they stood before us naked. I reveled in the beauty my eyes beheld. The mother had short blond hair with hints of red and brown while the daughter had more red/brown and wore hers to just past her shoulders, though at the moment it was tied up under a floppy hat. Their breast were much the same and swayed in a soft and gentle way with their movements. The curve of tanned, unblemished and very smooth/soft skin as it cascaded down passed their hips and on two long and sculptured legs with feet neatly tucked into very wet boots. The two had a presence projecting from them that we could not describe but caused us to feel honored by their being near. When my son held out his hand to help the younger one onto the stream bank she nearly fell into his arms on the moss and grass. I, in turn, helped the mother regain dry ground. I thought, as my son and I picked up our packs, that these wood nymphs would be gone from sight shortly as we recaptured the trail to continue our wanderings. Our hearts were lightened by the encounter but it continued for they remained flittering in and out of our journey. We saw them as they passed our camp and when we passed them on the trail. A few times we ate lunch together. They were not always nude but they still projected an aura of magic and mystery, dignity yet child like playfulness and the innocence of not knowing their own beauty. The last day we, the four of us, traveled the last leg together in a silence. We knew our time was special and did not speak and in the end there was only to part at the trail head. On the rest of the hike my son and I had walked together and he shouldered some of my load from me. We had not enjoyed an outing like this in a few years and it had not rained but for that one time. My son and I did not talk of this with anyone or even between ourselves for over three years. He mentioned it when he asked me if I thought he was growing into the kind of person we had talked of by the stream that day. My son (and I) had changed after that trip. He understood what I tried to explain about honor and integrity and the difference between a man and a gentleman from the very meeting of two wood nymphs. And I was given a reaffirmation of my convictions/life values. I cried for my son pleased me with his quality as a person.
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Nudes In My Book? No Way! We were the only two left in the classroom subsequent to the dismissal of the after-school program group. Already knowing that she had a surprise for me, I was awaiting it's appearance as she was pulling it out of the bag that was over her desk. This woman was crowned one of my favorite teachers the moment she presented me with this gift that would prove to be treasure-some for a long time to come. The gift was a package of two sketchbooks of excellent quality, plus a bonus trace pad with oiled sheets. At this time, I was thirteen years old, being the most widely known and acclaimed artist in the whole middle school. This teacher was one who was especially fond of my work and desired to encourage me further by giving me this package. Of course, I showed my gratitude by thanking her dearly. We began to get into a conversation about her experiences in a college art class. Of all the things she mentioned and the things we discussed, one thing in particular proved to be notoriously memorable after I left. She told me that in her class, her teacher would regularly bring nude models in the classroom for them to draw. She encouraged me, also, to take up this area of art. Being thoroughly uneducated about the whole thing, I thought, "What? Nudes in my book? No way! That's nasty!" I tactfully implied these thoughts of mine to her, and she took them politely. Of course, I've gone on for many months in strong disbelief that I would ever draw or even look at a naked body. Of course, I thought, as many others do, that nudity equals pornography. And knowing that pornography is bad, I had no interest in the area of nude art. During the summer after graduating the eighth grade, I visited my cousin who is also in artist. We browsed his collection of half-painted canvases of oil, which featured some unfinished but impressive portraits of celebrities and friends. But what I saw that there gave me biggest impression in any painting I've seen in a long time is the impressive display of contour, color, and grace, that was showed in a painting of his girlfriend. I was shocked to see such life like quality and beauty showed in this painting of the woman, all right before my eyes! I left feeling inspired as an artist. I felt like this painting I saw stirred too much emotion, to much inspiration, too much too keep in. I felt like I had to some how, some way, do something with it. So, I immediately starting to conduct the necessary research online to put into practice what I saw. On the way, I learned many things. Included is that I learned that what he did was called "figure painting," and my application of this would be "figure drawing." But there was one major aspect about the whole thing that was very hard for me to accept. It was the fact that to be able to do this whole figure drawing thing, you must study and learn to draw the nude body. "What? Nudes in my sketchbook? NO WAY!" I thought. "There must be some other way." So, after searching and searching, I found that it was impossible to get any good at figure drawing without studying the nude, as this provides the basis for the artist to identify parts, shapes, and other characteristics of all the areas human body. The only issue then is whether or not looking at the nude body was a moral thing. I thought of any nude image to be pornography, and from what I knew about the effects of pornography on people (which would be a whole other article), I was very reluctant to do this. I felt this way until I came across many articles as the ones seen in the DOMAI site. I learned gradually that nude or non-nude images with the sole purpose to arouse and that display sex is pornography, not the subject being nude itself. With this in mind, I was able to continue my research in figure drawing. The irony in this dates back to the when I was given the gift by my teacher. The same sketchbook I held in my hand while despising nudity and nude art is the same sketchbook I, many months later, used to get serious in nude figure drawing with. The controversy of the world in my right hand "Would you like to see my work?" For years I liked to walk around with my sketchbook to draw things around me, or carry it just to draw attention to my art. When someone noticed my drawing, they would usually approach, look, and compliment whatever it is I'm doing. I would, almost all the time, follow their compliment by asking them if they would like to see my work. They would browse in awe of the book and return it. This sort of display routine made me feel proud of myself, as many people love what they see, but was getting a little repetitive. However, the routine changed pretty much when I started drawing nudes. I remember the first few times I displayed the sketchbook with my first nudes in it to people. The reactions were totally different from when I only drew cartoons and still lives. Of these reactions would be some dirty looks at me from the viewer. Some would jump back in shock and surprise, then ask me questions like "Why are you drawing these?!" There were even some who returned the sketchbook immediately with a disgusted facial expression. Reactions like these made me feel pretty embarrassed. I was discouraged to continue figure drawing at all, because all I was getting were bad reactions. Things were was so much more peaceful when I drew cartoons only. So, I started to contemplate some solutions. There were times I decided to only draw nudes outside my sketchbook, but I couldn't do that because I felt like all my art just needed to be in one place. Then, I thought that maybe I could draw a lot less nudes and a lot more other stuff, but I couldn't do that because the figure drawing genre of art takes lots of practice and repetition to improve. Discontinuing was not an option either, because figure drawing was just too much of rare and rewarding skill to pass up. Finally I realized what I was doing and came to my senses. I realized I was trying to censor myself from what I could truly be and accomplish. I was holding myself back from a great skill and a great form of self expressions just because some people didn't like it. By holding back my art, I would be putting at stake my own self, and would be cheating the "rebels" of the past who fought hard to make this form of art of some acceptance in society. I'd be doing all that because of a few bad looks. I decided, then, to draw as many of what I wish, when I wish in my sketchbook because it was...MY sketchbook. Not anyone else's. I started to apply this view of mine. As a result, there usually were two kinds of people I was able too meet through their viewing of my work: the kind that agree and the kind that despise. Among those who agreed were the ones who thought that despite the controversy, nude art was natural, healthy, and pretty nice to look at, too. I was able to also hear some surprisingly intelligent ones express their reasons why, and that usually encouraged me to continue. Then, there were the kind that despise. Meeting with them, at the time, was still discouraging. Some of them would have such big reactions that make people turn around and look at me. Others return my sketchbook and not even give my art a chance, or even try to see what's next. Still, others would try to convince me that what I was doing was no good, some with no reason why. This shamed me to an extent, until I came up with this thought, which I'll close with: Before I started figure drawing, people saw my art and all usually had the same reaction. They all loved it, and returned it. This same cycle would be so forever. When I started to put in something a little different, like nude art, I got to see how many different types of reactions people have, and how many different reasons why people may have them. I got to see people from a whole new set of specs. When they returned my sketchbook to me, there was almost always something to talk about. Controversy is interesting because it gives us always something to talk about and prevents the world from being a boring place. So, my carrying the controversy of the world in my right hand, I keep the world an interesting place.
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Last night, as I sat and reflected on a rather wonderful experience within the realm of the “average” DOMAI short story, one of my fellow conspirators asked me a question; he wanted to know if my desire to see women naked came from a hormonal imbalance. Yet I can say without hesitation that my intents were completely honest and innocent, and that no lust entered my body or my mind. That has forced me to do some further retrospective study on what this experience - my personal relationship with the female form and with DOMAI in particular - is all about. Allow me to backtrack for a moment, as I am a stream of consciousness writer. Yesterday I spent some time with several friends on a camping trip, and we were camped next to a rather calm, cool river. Naturally, the urges of young adulthood turn that water into something far more alluring during the moonless night. A female friend (let’s call her “Sarah”) suggested that we all go skinny dipping, and being the consummate fan of your site, I immediately said “sure, sounds like fun.” When we all headed into the water, we swam in our bathing suits for quite a while, and no one made any move to change that fact. So, as we were letting the tide take us and basically heading back to shore, I decided to call everyone’s bluff. I excused myself, saying that I did indeed intend to shed my shorts, and swam upstream a bit. Sarah said that she would love to swim naked as well, so as incentive I proved that I was indeed skinny dipping by holding up my clothes. This seemed to be enough of a cue for her, as she immediately removed her bathing suit and held it up as well. Everyone else... er... followed suit (pun intended, sorry :) During our swimming, we all made a very conscious effort to remain under the water, so that our friends could not see us naked. I don’t know why we did this, perhaps it was the final great barrier that we would have to overcome, but unfortunately I was enjoying myself too much to be the trendsetter on this one. However, I did have the fortune of looking at Sarah right as she attempted to stand up, and realized that the riverbed was much more shallow than would allow her to stand at full height and retain her desired since of modesty. The image, now permanently seared into my retinas, was quite simply breathtaking. I am a fan of a good A-cup, and she was definitely that; her breasts were perky, firm, glistening with the slight reflected light of a streetlamp which seemed a thousand miles away. And, the water was obviously a bit cold for her. Would that I could describe in more succinct words the perfection of those soft jewels in the night, I would spend the rest of the essay writing on that topic alone. Words simply do not do her justice. Just as quickly as I received that much blessed view, it was taken from me, as she sat back down and the river once again enveloped her. We soon had to don our attire again and head back to shore, but, as has often been spoken before in such stories, I shall never forget the beauty that I had presented there. But it did not feel like lust. I had no desire to betray our bond of friendship right there and have my way with her – quite the opposite; I felt that to do so would be to erase the wonder of that moment. So if my reaction was not lust, then it was not the standard male reaction to bare and exquisite beauty. In that respect, I suppose, I do have a hormonal imbalance, but one which I would not give up! The answer to my question came this morning, as I arose with the dawn and began making preparations to serve breakfast and strike camp. I had cause to look out onto the river, and I could now see something previously hidden from me the night before. Around the next bend in the river was an amazing cliff, which the early light turned into a fantastic display of reds and golds and greens. Again, the view was stunning, the awesome power of God carved out of the rock to stand for many millennia as a testament to a wonderful, loving creator. Words, again, could simply not do justice, and I found myself staring in awe at the beauty of nature. It felt as though, in that brief moment of time, I had grown closer to my Lord. It was the same feeling I had had the previous night, though I daresay breasts and cliffs are two very different things! (Unless you’re a lonely Frenchman, and end up naming a mountain range Les Grand Tetons!) Long ago, there was a term to describe this sensation; Platonic. Plato’s ideal of love was transcendence from a merely physical passion to an almost religious appreciation of things universal. In Christian terminology, a spiritual enlightenment brought about by the pursuing of an earthly physical relationship. This is what Dante expressed in his Divine Comedy toward the object of his affections, Beatrice, who it must be said was not his wife! Yet most in the Christian faith still regard this as the greatest work of poetic art in the last two thousand years. That’s what I felt last night, and what I feel every day when I visit the DOMAI website – I feel a spiritual enlightenment, a pulling of my heart that leads me to think of things greater than my job or my hobbies ever could allow. The beautiful women displayed here are not intended to be the objects of crude, hustler-esque lust, but are instead portrayed in an innocent, thought-provoking manner, which lends itself to a much higher ideal. After all, “a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” and in these pictures may be preserved the awesome creation of God for another millennia. So it's awe, not lust. That's also why I can't help but stare.
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Hello there. First of all, I wish to complement you on your site. I have a friend of mine who did recommend it. She did indeed steer me in a good direction. I particularly enjoy the letters and stories and such. That said, I would like to share something with you and perhaps your readers. Unfortunately, unlike many of your reader, I have no stories of my youth. Reading them, I became somewhat envious of such fond memories. The testimonial that I can share with you happened last summer, here in Minnesota, in the United states. To start off, it helps to have some background. My Brother has a son, Matt, he is now fifteen so last year he was fourteen. In order to give Matt some experiences outside of the city, we agreed that he would spend a week up north with me, camping in what is known as the Boundary waters. (my brother is not really the outdoors type) This is a area that everyone should see. For it is truly a magnificent area. The beauty of the true wilderness can really clear ones mind. I try to get up to this boreal forest many times of year. While up there is it not uncommon to see animals such as moose, deer, eagles and otters. My goal of this week was to share this area with Matt and to give him some sort of appreciation for such beauty. This goal was met early in the trip. For Matt really seemed to enjoy this area. We were camping, using a canoe to go to different camp sites. Many times during the day during the day we would take a break from our paddling to do some fishing. It seemed like every time that I suggested that we take a break, the fish would start biting. This can't help but to raise the status of any uncle. Needless to say, this little venture was going quite well. On our third day out things did get a bit more interesting and we got the chance to appreciate some beauty of a different sort. Matt and I had been paddling pretty hard for most of the morning and I thought that it was a good time to take a break. I needed to rest my arms and Matt wanted to do some fishing. The location I chose was ideal for this. For it was a connecting stream that linked one lake to another. There was a current, but not unmanageable. I could relax in the sun shine as we just drifted down stream. We did this for about fifteen minutes when I could begin to hear what sounded like some people talking or laughing. This seemed strange to us, for we had not seen anyone else since we put our canoe in the water earlier in the week. As we rounded a bend in the river it became clear as to who was making these sounds. Four girls, I figured in their late teens or early twenties were camped on the rivers edge. Like us, they were canoe campers but two of them had kayaks. As the river pulled down stream, I noticed from the two lying on the rivers edge, that these girls were not expecting too many visitors. For the girls on the river's edge and the girls in the water, I was soon to find out were completely nude. Their clothes were hung on a line between two trees and were brightly colored, and seemed to be on display like the flags of so many different nations. The two girls in the water, were dark in their completion and had hair as black as a raven's wing, were the first to notice our presence. I thought to myself, what is the proper etiquette in such a situation? Should I take the step of turning the canoe around and paddle up stream to give them the chance to get themselves decent for us? I don't know why I did not do this. Perhaps it was noticing their relaxed reaction to seeing us. For when the ladies on shore were alerted to us, they simply sat up and waved. Seeing this I waved back and continued our drift. The girls on the shore were fair in there complexion, not unlike Matt and me. I notice by looking at them that they were all in really good shape. It was easy to see the results of their healthy active life style. Each possessed lean stomachs and well muscled arms. All four of them were beautiful in their own right. One of the girls with black hair must have been nude outdoors frequently, for she lack the tan lines of her friends. She swam up to our canoe and we began to chat. As we engaged in small talk about the great weather and fishing and such, she then let us know that we were not in very deep water by standing up and revealing all of her glory to us. She was like a real life version of Aphrodite as she rose from the water. Her breast were not big but they were well formed in their shape, sat high on her chest. Each of them glistening with the droplets of water. She smiled sweetly when she notice that I was clearly doing my best to keep my cool. We continued our conversations for about twenty minutes, all the while Matt not saying a word. As we continued our chat I was awestruck as to how at ease these ladies were. All of them comfortable in their own skin, and without any hang-ups. This trait in particular I found to be the most attractive. We eventually continued on down stream. I looked back once, as if to confirm that this really did happen. They smiled and waved as we paddled down stream. Matt and I had about four more hours of paddling before we were to set up camp and we really did not talk much during this time. I can only imagine the wonderful imagery that was playing inside his head. It was only after we were finish with dinner that he coyly asked me if that was the beauty of the north woods that he wanted me to see? I smiled and laughed but didn't answer his question. Perhaps some day he'll write you a letter with his perspectives of this magical moment in time. If he does write such a letter, I would enjoy reading it. Kind Regards. Geoff
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Mr. Stobblehouse: I would like to share with you and the visitors to your site an experience that had a major effect for the better on the course of my life. The experience that I am referring to occurred during my junior year in college. I had discovered the joys of photography, and become a compulsive "shutterbug" as an eleventh grader in high school. A year after that, shortly before my high school graduation, I had been initiated into the joys of photographing the nude. During my college years I did a great deal of photography not necessarily nude photography but photography of all kinds. Early in my junior year of college I was introduced to Janet by a mutual friend, who had been asked to recommend a photographer to do a shoot of the women’s tennis team of which Janet was a member. Janet was a junior as I was and a truly stunning looking young woman. She was 5’9" tall (about 1.75 meters; for some reason I have always been attracted to tall women). She had glossy back hair and amethyst-colored eyes that contrasted beautifully with her fair complexion. She moved with the fluid grace of the natural athlete; besides being one of the mainstays of the women’s tennis team, she was an avid swimmer and ice skater. She also was active in modern dance, and had studied ballet as a child. We started seeing each other, and on one occasion I mentioned that I also liked to ice skate. This resulted in several dates at the local skating rink, which we both enjoyed greatly. It was after one of these dates that Janet said, "You know, skating rinks are all well and good, and I have nothing against them, but you haven’t really skated until, you have done it the old-fashioned way, out in the country, on a frozen pond." I told her that I had never had a chance to do that. She said that we would have to remedy that. A few days after this conversation, she told me that she had talked to her grandparents, who lived on a farm in the country, about fifty miles from our town and our university. She said that they would be glad to have us visit them during the upcoming semester break. "Bring your camera," she added. "You might want to take some skating pictures." We arrived at her grandparents’ farm on the second day of the weeklong semester break, and her grandparents made me feel welcome right away. They suggested a number of things that we could do, including skating on the frozen pond. After Janet’s grandparents had given us lunch, Janet and I headed for the pond. It was a fairly large pond with plenty of room to skate on, and not visible from either the road or the house due to a grove of trees that surrounded it. We put on our skates, sitting on a single bench that was there to accommodate swimmers in the summer and skaters in the winter. Janet was right: The atmosphere was very different from a skating rink. The reflection of the bright sun on the snow and the quiet unbroken except by the occasional song of a winter bird made for a completely different environment. Janet and I skated together, and I took pictures as we skated. Janet did a number of figure skating maneuvers, into which she incorporated some moves from modern dance. I marveled, as I had marveled before, at the incredible grace of her movements; she seemed to defy the law of gravity. When I had used up one of the two roles of film that I had brought I sat down to reload the camera. Janet’s skating outfit was now soaked with sweat and clinging to her body. I asked her if she was tired and would like to take a break. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "I’m just getting started!" "You aren’t tired" I asked. "No," said Janet, "not tired, but sweaty and hot. For the next roll let’s try something different. How would you like to shoot me skating nude?" With these words she pulled off her sweat-soaked skating dress, folded it and laid it on the bench. A minute later her panties and sports bra were lying on the bench beside it, and she was gliding across the pond, naked except for her skates. Janet skating naked on that pond in the afternoon sun was truly a sight to die for. I had to stop and catch my breath before I had the presence of mind to pick up my camera and start shooting. Her fair complexion contrasted breathtakingly with her glossy black hair, the dark coral-colored nipples of her firm upturned breasts and her rich dark pubic hair. Her whole upper body perfectly complemented her long graceful athletic legs. The maneuvers that she executed now were even more involved that those she had done earlier, and if she had seemed gravity defying before, she seemed absolutely supernatural now. She seemed to float on air. I shot more slowly this time, taking more time between exposures, but Janet didn’t seem to mind, didn’t seem to tire. She came across as exuberance incarnate. After I had used up my last roll of film, Janet said "There is one more thing that I would like you to try." She skated over to the bench to where her clothes lay and picked up a canister that I had not noticed before. The canister contained a roll of infrared film. "Let’s see what we can come up with using this!" I had never done any work with infrared film before, but I certainly was willing to give it a try. The result added a whole new dimension to my photography. The effect of a nude body in a cold environment on infrared film has to be seen to be appreciated. The contrasting light and dark silhouettes have an effect that is absolutely surreal. After all the exposures on the infrared film had been used Janet said "We have had a nice productive photo shoot, now let’s skate." I left my camera and the rolls of film on the bench and rejoined her on the ice, but she still made no move to put her clothes back on. We skated together the rest of the afternoon, talking, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Only when the sun was low on the horizon, and it was time to go back to the house for dinner did Janet bother to get dressed. Two significant developments came of this afternoon. First of all, at Janet’s urging I entered the best of my infrared photos in an art show sponsored by our university, and won first prize for photography. The other develpment is that shortly after our graduation the following year, Janet and I were married. We celebrated our sixth anniversary last July, but we still think of the anniversary of our afternoon skating at the pond as the one that perhaps counts the most. -Morris "Mole the Shutterbug"
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Dear DOMAI, As a longtime subscriber to your newsletter I have experienced the joy of reading the stories of other members and watching the lovely and tasteful pictures of the beautiful young girls on your website for quite some time now. If I weren't a student who is always short of money, this website would be the first (and probably also the only one) that I would join. In a few years, when I finished my studies and make enough money, I certainly will join this website. Nowhere on the internet I have been able to find any site which even comes close to the continious high standards of domai.com. Most sites make the girls look like cheap models who are only on the earth to please men. I am totally disgusted by these sorts of sites. Domai on the other hand, makes the girls look like the pieces of art they deserve to be. I always look forward to next friday to read the new letter of the week and look at the new pictures. After receiving your latest newsletter with the pictures of the breathtaking Vlada posing in the woods, a flashback shot through my mind. I would like to share this flashback with you. ------------- About three years ago, my cousin (he was 20 years old at that time, just like me) were spending our holidays together in Norway. As we both adore the lovely nature, we figured there was no better way to spend our holidays than to go backpacking in the beautifull country of Norway. We both didn't have a girlfriend at that time, so it was just the two of us and nobody at home to worry about us. We visited the amazing wild nature on the coast of Norway with the beautiful fjords during the day and went to the local pubs in the evening. And as we were staring at the gorgeous (mostly blonde) local girls, we were bragging to each other what we would do when we had a girlfriend like "that pretty, tall, blonde girl over there". None of us had the guts to step up to one of these girls as the prettiest girls were always accompanied by their huge and muscular boyfriends. But the more beer we had been drinking (which cost us a fortune by the way...) the more we were bragging to each other about what we would be doing with a girlfriend like that and what we had been doing with previous girlfriends. Most of it untrue of course, but that is just how it goes with 20yo students who are drinking to much: their mouths get bigger than their brains. After enjoying the lovely nature and fun nights out in the pub for almost three weeks, our holiday was about to end. We had one more night and one more day to spend. On our way back to Oslo (from where we would depart two days later) we decided to spend our last evening and day in a small village called Nesbyen. We arrived there in the afternoon and after cooking ourselves a simple meal, we decided to spend our last money in the local pub. It was a thursday evening in June and it was not very crowded there. My cousin and I sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers. Before we had finished our first beers, two of the most gorgeous young girls came in. The first girl was a very pretty, blonde girl with a very tiny figure. And the other girl, I swear to God, looked exactly like the breathtaking brunette Vlada you showed in last weeks newsletter. They were both wearing simple summerskirts loosely around their sun-tanned bodies. My cousin and I looked at each other and we were both obviously thinking the same thing. We got up, walked to the two girls and tried to make conversation, offering them drinks, obviously hitting on them. They made quite clear they were not at all interested in us. And I must say that I can't blame them, as they were obviously way out of our leagues. Disappointed as we were, we went back to our seats, ordering more beer. And after a couple of beers our big mouths were there again. And as we had been drinking way to much by the end of the evening, we were now making slightly degrading remarks about the girls, just loud enough for them to hear us. I'm getting kinda sick of myself, looking back at how we behaved at that moment. The next morning we woke up early to spend out last day walking in the hills. While we were following a route leading towards a small lake somewhere high in the hills, we were talking about the night before and the beautiful girls that were not at all interested in us. After walking for about three hours we reached out target: a lovely quiet lake, deep in the woods in the hills where no cars could ever come. We decided to rest there for a little while, sitting in the tall grass in the shadow of the trees. After we had been sitting there for maybe fifteen minutes we all of a sudden heard some voices. It turned out that like fifty meters further on, two girls were enjoying the quietness as well. As they were completely hidden by the tall grass, we still couldn't see them, but we could only hear their voices. My cousin and I looked at each other and remained silent. Then, all of a sudden the two girls stood up, arising from the grass. We were pleasantly surprised to see the two girls we met at the bar last night, standing up, wearing nothing but their bras and panties. We made sure to stay down in the grass so the girls wouldn't see us. I saw a big grin on my cousins face as the girls were walking towards the lake, never even looking in our direction. Just before they walked into the water they stopped and took off their underwear. Just standing there completely naked, looking at each other for just a split second before they walked into the lake. They swam and played in the water for a few minutes The lake was only like one meter deep, so when the girls were standing up, their sun tanned upper bodies were fully exposed. Drops of water dripping from their wet hair on their firm and youhtfull breasts. Their small nipples fully erect by the cold water and the gentle breeze which was stroking their bodies. Pure innocence on their sweet faces, completely unaware of us staring at them. And just as the girls were both standing up and the pretty brunette was gently stroking her fingers through her long, wet hair, a bright sunray broke through the trees and carressed the wet bodies of these two amazingly beautiful creatures. As if God himself wanted to say: "This is how I meant it to be...let Me shine a light on this...". I was completely amazed by the whole situation, the light and the two perfect girls standing there completely nude. I didn't know what to say or think. The only thing that went through my mind was how terribly childish and disrespectful we had been acting over the past few weeks concerning our attitudes towards women. I dare to say that at that place and in these few minutes of my life I have found deep respect for the amazing beauty of women. I looked at my cousin and I saw he was staring at the girls with his mouth half open. He then slowly turned his head towards me and still didn't say a word. He only shook his head real slowly like he was in a complete shock. He then quietly stood up and started walking away from the lake. I followed him and we walked back to our campsite without even saying a single word. In the evening we packed our bags as we would be leaving the next morning. Only that next morning my cousin spoke to me about our encounter with the two girls. He said: "Yesterday changed my life. I will never again be able to look at a girl like I used to do before. And I'm so extremely thankful for that. I think every man should experience what we experienced at least once in his life." I said nothing but just nodded my head. I knew exactly what he meant and fully agreed to it. ----------------------- Thanks DOMAI, for bringing back this beautiful memory! Kind regards, Marco
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** The Land of Enchanting Women Allow me to share a camp story. When I was in my mid-teens (not too long ago, mind you), I went to a week-long sleep-away camp in the wilderness of New Mexico. Contrary to popular belief, New Mexico has forests and rivers and, yes, we are a part of the United States. Anyway, to keep a group of angst-filled teenagers entertained, the camp did all sorts of activities in the state parks. One day, when the choices were either rock-climbing or a hike, I had no choice but to hike, being out-of-shape and a coward when it came to immediate heights. This would have been like any other walk except for a chance encounter at a small pond we passed. It was around two o'clock in the afternoon and somewhere around 95 degrees. There were about a dozen of us, mostly male. A small stream ran along the trail, both of which lead to the pond that is still in my mind. The pond was picturesque. It was deep with the green waters shared by most fresh bodies of water. There was a cliff wall, overgrown with vegetation, about twenty feet above the surface. Quite simply, it was an oasis, despite being in a largely wooded area. And there, jumping off of this cliff and sunbathing on its banks, were three college-aged women, completely nude. There was a moment of shock as ten hormone-driven teenagers (myself included) stood dumbfounded. Even our counselor, a sensible man just out of college, was unable to break free from their presence. Even a few of the female members of our group were staring. They were girls, but these, these creatures diving off of the rock wall, were women. I had never actually seen a live nude woman, and it knocked me senseless. My jaw quite literally dropped. There were three of them. One was sunbathing, lying on her back on the grass. As if reacting to our presence, she pulled off a small white shirt that had barely covered her breasts. One woman was at the top of the cliff and the other was diving off of it. The sunbather had apparently just left the water, because her body glistened with beads of water. It was probably about five seconds before they noticed us. The one on the cliff waved and the one in the water said "Hello," which was enough for our camp counselor to wave back. The sunbather just looked at us and smiled then went right back to reclining on the grass. She didn't have any qualms about being seen naked by a bunch of kids. None of them did. We watched as the one still on the cliff dove into the murky green waters, then emerging in a splash. She smiled again and began swimming to the rocky shore. Regaining his senses and coming to the realization that he might get fired for this, he herded us along the trail. They paid no mind to us and kept right on relaxing while we continued our trek. Though many of the boys talked amongst themselves, commenting on the parts they had seen or trying to change the subject, I continued in silence with nothing more than a new image engraved in my head. Sure, when we got back, that was the gossip topic of the day. We were all branded as perverts (except for the girls with us, because according to them, or the conservative households they had been brought up in, there's nothing wrong with girls seeing other girls). Being from a liberal background, I argued "Why? Why can't a guy enjoy something like that?" I was labelled as the second largest pervert there, but it was worth it. Sincerely, Chris
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Dear Eolake, What a breathe of fresh air Domai is. I am probably going to be a first for your site and in writing to you. I am an ordained Minister who is involved in counselling married couples. Of late more and more of my counsel has involved men being directed my way by our lady counsellors of which the wives are complaining of their husbands looking at pornography. The men, the women are ashamed of themselves. They are unsatisfyied. This is a new area for me so it entailed me having to do investigative study so that I had an idea of what they were referring to. It is one sickening experience. One gets sicker and sicker the more they pursue the smut. Prior to my conversion to Christianity I was loose and fancy free as to the ladies. There was not to much I did not know about. Pornography was not one of my fortes. However what I was hearing of being called pornography, to me sounded to general. Why even the Sears catalog was being called pornography. In bra and panties. In full one piece bathing suits. Hem lines to high, necklines to low. Pornography??? Something wrong here I thought. I have always been attracted by beautiful women. I married one. I am in my 45th year with her. Everywhere one goes there are more than the eye can behold. My stiff neck is loosening up - again. In fact I have been called ãtoä on more than one occasion by my fellow pastors for commenting on ãisnât that a beauty.ä I now add ã a beauty - of God.ä I am a firm believer of the Word of God. It is very clear in Genesis 1 chapter 1 that God made male and female. In fact He says they were very good. HE was pleased with His handy-work. As a good man of God, I am to admire the creation of God. I always did. But then after hearing so much from the church leaders (so called) of the wrongs in society how that looking at women is sex, therefore immoral. Wrong. I thought my seniors were probably correct ö but today I have more doubts than true facts. Now a senior, I am finding I do not agree with their former ideas. Eolake I like your site philosophy. In fact I see it as a freeing of the bondage that has been put on society over the years. Sex is trying to rule the world. The word sex is in the Bible only as referring to gender. Why is it every time a pretty woman is featured on TV she is referred to as sexy (looking)? That is what degrades a woman. Telling a woman she is beautiful does not degrade her. However telling a woman (someone you do not personally know) that she is beautiful could (and does) get one into trouble today. Unfortunately some women feel degraded by being told they are pretty. They think of it as a come on. Woman need to learn that they are beautiful. There is no shame in a beautiful woman ö and too, a beautiful woman nude. Interestingly, in the Book of Genesis chapter 2 it says they were naked and ãnot ashamed.ä It is when sin entered that they became ãashamedä and covered their nakedness. Says a lot about today doesnât it. We are losing the innocence ö if it is not lost already. Nakedness is getting more and more shameful. Only because it is seen as sex (sin.) And it is with your site ãDomaiä and ãSimple Nudesä, it is the innocence, free of sexual perversion, that is so refreshing. I can sit and admire the creations of God just as I can admire His creation of nature. Free of any guilt knowing ö and God created woman. As I read many of the newsletters I realized that what man needs is a wholesome site to look at. A site of a woman on Domai. I like the letters from women confirming your site. I have sat here debating whether to join your site as a member. In my position of the so called cloth, I fear what could be (mis)interpreted by my joining and someone found out. My wife handles my accounts. May be a little fear I need to overcome to be truly free. I am honoured by being able to view so many beautiful women freely. I think this is a great credit to you. Most sites give only a picture or two and an enlargement needs a membership. To me it is the quality, not necessarily quantity that is so refreshing. I think more will join you because they see in your site a genuine philosophy that society wants, something better than the smut that is being put out on women. She is NOT a sex object ö she is a beauty to behold. I would have no problem referring my couples to your site. It is clean, pure and beautiful. There is no suggestive positions to cause one the be sexually aroused. Innocence as God Himself intended. Keep up the excellent work Eolake. Richard.
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Dear Eolake Firstly my thanks to you for a superbly exquisite site. My week is not the same without a visit to your site. Unfortunately living in South Africa and having an exchange rate of almost 10rand to 1dollar I am unable to contribute financially to your site, therefore I would like to contribute an experience I enjoyed many years ago that I hope will find its way on to your site. The mid 80's in South Africa was a time of serious social upheaval, the apartheid government was still in control and inter racial contact of any kind was a serious no-no. It was under these circumstances that I enjoyed an experience that has stayed with me for all my life and eventually dramatically changed me for the better. Our family lived on a beautiful farm out in the Free State area, my father employed many laborers and all of these had families that stayed on the farm property - away from the main house as the law dictated. Myself and my brother and some of the young black boys would play together, running and playing in the fields in the winter months and getting rowdy in the farms many natural rock pools in the summer months. During all this time quietly the young girls grew too although we had no interest in them at all, at least I did not, until one baking hot afternoon in the middle of summer. The summer heat in the Free State has to be experience to be appreciated, although I can tell you on that particular day the temperature was over 38C degrees. My brother had gone away for the week to visit friends and the thought of cycling all the way to invite the other boys to come swim with me was just too much effort. So I pulled on my swimming trunks, grabbed my towel, jumped on my bike and headed for the rock pool. The pool was about a kilometer and a bit from the house, beautifully shaded, large trees protected the water from the sun, keeping it wonderfully cool and a small waterfall had formed just a bit to the left of the pool after the last rains. I approached the pool, dropped my bike at the entrance to the path and began the 100meter walk to the pool. As I got closer the sound of singing caught my attention. I stopped for a moment and listened to the voice but could not recognize it, so slowly I began to creep up to the pool. I approached and took cover behind a large tree. Thoughts of jumping out from behind the tree and scaring the daylights out of my as yet unknown victim filled my boyish mind with mischievous delight. I mentally practiced my big scare for a few moments and once I was sure I had it right, I jumped out from behind the tree and yelled......not a sound, not a word, not a whisper. There in front of me was the most beautiful creature I could have ever imagined, naked in all her glory. It took a moment for me to see what was in front of me, but a lifetime would not be enough to erase it from my mind. The sun streamed through a gap in the tree line and this is exactly where my goddess stood. Her skin dark as chocolate, smooth as silk and as unblemished as a fine pearl. Her eyes dark as 2 bottomless pools, her lips full and inviting. Her breasts youthfully firm and delicate. Not a mark, not a blemish, not a spot interrupted her beauty. A beauty that ran down from her beautiful breasts, across her unblemished stomach and down 2 beautifully defined legs, a beauty only interrupted by a shriek of surprise. A shriek that vanished as fast as she did as she dived into the pool. Her spell for a moment was broken and I thought of running back down the path and getting away, but something made me stay, something made me run to the waters edge and look for her. Then no more than 2 arms lengths away she rose up out of the water, majestic, beautiful, lovely..... and gave me such a fright that I fell into the water. After that it was impossible to do anything but laugh as I lifted myself out of the water spluttering and coughing. Nompumalelo as I found out her name was or Norma as she became known to me, reached out a hand and helped me up. We spent the rest of the afternoon, talking, laughing, playing and not once did she bother to get dressed, not once was she ashamed of her body, not once was there a hint of discomfort. Her innocence and beauty broke down every social barrier those around me had worked for so long to build up. Eventually the day drew to an end and she headed her way and I headed mine, but the next day she was back and so was I, and the next and the next. We grew closer with each passing day and our love grew for each other. A love that eventually blossomed into the marriage and 2 children we now have together. I wish you all the best with a wonderful site and hope one day to be able to make a more meaningful contribution to your efforts. Rgds Brendon === Good day, I just had to share a wonderful moment I have just experienced at the supermarket of all places. I was calling in to the shop to buy a few necessities and some ice cream to help me deal with the unusually hot weather in the UK at the moment. I live on the coast and so during the tourist season it is not unusual to see females in vest tops (usually with a differently coloured bra strap clearly showing, which I find particularly unattractive, but that's just me), shorts or short skirts and so on. However, today I saw a PYG whose summer dress blew me away. Now I have always been a fan of summer dresses on women, with their light floaty material, thin straps and large amounts of uncovered skin, and I think women look good in them. This particular PYG had chosen a pretty red number with small white flowers printed all over the material. The bootlace straps crossed over at the back - making wearing a bra underneath it practically impossible if you want to have any air of sophistication about you - so I was pleased to see that she had chosen not to wear one. Her tan was warm and even, and the lack of lighter marks over her bare shoulders clearly indicating that when she did sunbathe it was done topless. The skirt of the dress barely brushed the top of her thighs, yet was quite full and flouncy. In all the ensemble had obviously been picked to take maximum advantage of both the bright sunshine and any cooling breeze there might be. Furthermore she had shoulder length auburn hair done into pig tails behind each ear, both of which I like very much. She was also pushing a pram - one of those expensive three wheel, all terrain jobs - so I assumed that she was here on a family holiday. As I followed her out of the building I got a real treat. A sudden gust of wind lifted the bottom of what skirt there was and lifted it clean up to her waist. There on display was a beautiful, firm looking bottom, devoid of underwear, which just like her shoulders had the same even tan to it. One could imagine that she spent much time outside in the nude and had slipped just this dress on to go to the shops. What made the scene all the more refreshing was that she made no desperate grab to tug the skirt down again, letting it relax back gently into place as she walked on. I thought to myself how wonderful that she could feel so relaxed and comfortable and unashamed with her body even in such a potentially embarrassing environment. I then felt a small twinge of guilt having only the previous weekend proposed marriage to my girlfriend (now fiancee - she said 'yes' ;o) ), enjoying this sight. Then I thought of DOMAI and the pictures and stories on the site, how enjoying beauty was something to be cherished and rejoice in, and the guilt went away. Appreciating beauty in whatever form it takes cannot be bad, and the fact that I had taken pleasure in the sight of this PYG in no way affected my love for my fiancee. The PYG walked on down the road happy and carefree while I got into my oven like car. A lovely moment on a hot day. Howard === DOMAI, Its been a number of years now since i first saw my fiance. It was my first year of college, and during freshman orientation I was a little bit lost. I was attending a small school on the east coast, and being from a small town in eastern Oregon, I knew no one. Sarah was in the same orientation group as me, and was definetly one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I was immediatly enfatuated with her, but I wasn't the most outgoing of guys there. Its not that I was shy back then, but I didn't have the courage to go right after any girl who I had a crush on. The first night after i had seen her, I got to talking to my new roommate about her and he took it upon himself to make sure I asked her out. There was an optional camping trip for about 40 of us at the end of orientation to get to know people better. To my surprise, I came back to my room one night to find out that my roommate had signed both of us up for it after he learned that Sarah was going as well. I got to know her a little better the next couple days before the trip, and we were both excited to go on it. She was very outgoing and seemed to be getting to know everyone there, and I didn't think my chances with her were very high. That weekend on the trip however, turned out to be one of the best of my life. I ended up hanging out with her and my roommate a lot on that trip and was having a great time. In the afternoon on the second day of our trip, Sarah and I snuck away and went for a hike. We had been hiking for about 30 minutes or so when we found an amazingly beautiful lake off the trail a little ways. Before I knew it she had taken off her clothes and was swimming in the lake. I was awestruck, and didn't know what to say. She had simply smiled at me and began to undress. No words or suggestions to go swimming, she just slipped out of them. I couldn't believe it. As she stood there, I was able to see her perfect, shaply breasts and amazing body as she slipped into the water. We weren't at the lake for more than half an hour, but it seemed like an eternity. It has been many years since then, and we will be getting married next spring, but everytime I see her naked I still get the same feeling I did that first day I saw her at that lake. Thanks for everything, JJ Scul
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** To Eolake Thank you for your fantastic website. While I am not a subscriber (maybe sometime in the future - cost being an issue), I look forward to the regular newsletter with its interesting, honest and uplifting stories and experiences from people and also stimulating short essays on issues regarding nudity and society. I come from a rather strict family where nudity was not accepted but rather frowned apon and not allowed. I remember when I was about 10 or 11, I found a picture of a nude woman in a magazine while cutting out pictures for an art class. I took the picture home, fascinated by the beauty of a woman with no clothes on, but when the picture was found by my parents I was told off and subjected to a lecture about disgusting images, using womenâs bodies as objects, etc. However, when I was 15, something occurred which changed my view of nudity. Our family had gone to stay with my uncle and aunt and their kids in the country for a few days over Christmas. I was sharing a room with one of my cousins, a girl of 16 years. Our families are close and I was and still are great and close friends with my cousins and we have a great time together whenever we catch up. It was the last night before we headed back home and I was getting into bed when my cousin, came in after having a shower. Clad in only a towel, with wet, dark hair she looked pretty and innocent, but then she took off the towel, and naked, she was even more beautiful. She was slightly larger and shorter than the ãperfectä figure, and her body had not reached maturity, but she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I could not look away. The soft light of the bedside lamp on her skin, still damp from the shower was a magical image. Her breasts were small, tipped with delicate rosy nipples, her legs shapely and a pretty tuft of dark curls hid in the shadows between her thighs. After a moment, she caught me staring, but far from being angry or annoyed, she paused for just an instant and smiled at me, before putting on her pyjamas. I have not seen her nude again nor have we spoken about that night since, but I sense that neither one of us regrets what happened, and we are still great friends. That night made me realise that nudity is a beautiful and wholesome thing and not disgusting and filthy and unacceptable. Too often in our society nudity is equated with sex and pornography, but this does not have to be the case. Far from being sexual or erotic or disgusting, that night I was admiring the beauty of a womanâs natural, nude body and that is nothing to be ashamed or disgusted at. Thanks to Domai, which is showing the way to appreciate and admire the beauty of a pure, simply nude woman. It is a breath of fresh air amongst the rubbish of most of the Internet and I hope that it will not only continue but also spread and maybe begin to change some of societyâs ideas about nudity and the beauty of women. >From Jason Cook Melbourne Australia ===I have very much enjoyed your site and some of the links for the past few months and finally decided to have the courage to put down in words an experience that I had a few years back. I hope you think it worthy of the mail competition. Thanks Donny. It was one of those long hot summers that the North Coast of New South Wales (Australia) is famous for. The local pizza cafÚ was doing it tough, with the lack of tourists stopping, in this out of the way town, the weather being so stinking hot for so long, and the state of the economy being what it was everywhere, and to top it of one of the big multi-nationals had recently opened in the town. The owner of the cafÚ had come up with an idea to use local girls, scantly clad in bikinis &/or lingerie, to help boost the failing sales, especially at lunch-times and decided to try it a few times a week to see if it took-off. It did at the beginning, especially with the young males of the area (both married and single). But after a time, this too became routine and only a few regulars were left - including myself. During this time a few of the more friendly girls would sit down with us in the quiet times and over a period we got to know some of them quiet well. On one particular Friday, when I was preparing myself for the usual lunch festive of pizza, cold beer and friendly, gorgeous, wearing next-to-nothing, company, the owner asked me if I would like to try a new arrangement that he had developed. Being a friendly sort, I said why not, as I always liked helping out a mate. It turns out that he had cleaned out a rear storeroom and furnished it as a private booth, complete with small bar, a few tables and chairs and a servery. One of the, in my opinion, more friendly and stunningly elegant of the girls, Ellen, led me into this room and took my order for the usual. I did notice that she had on more clothes than usual, being a short skirt and mini top. When I asked her about this, she said that I would see. She returned shortly and sat down and we talked for a few minutes. She asked my opinion of the improvements and I said that so far things didn't seem any different. The owner then pushed the pizza through the servery and Ellen told me to close my eyes and not to peek. I heard some shuffling about and then Ellen asked me to open my eyes. When I did, in front of me, with my cold beer in one hand, pizza in the other and wearing nothing but her smile and high heels, stood Ellen. "So, what do you think now?" she asked in a slightly nervous voice. I picked myself up of the floor and scrapped my chin up of my knees. "So how am I supposed to enjoy my pizza and beer now, with this sort of distraction?" I mumbled whilst trying to regain my composure. This of course, broke the ice and Ellen then pulled up a spare chair facing me and asked if she could share my pizza, as she could not leave this room dressed only in her shoes. After this, we settled down to a most enjoyable lunch and I could only manage to crawl back to work in time to clock off for the weekend. We had many more pleasurable lunches after that, although I confess that as word of this new lunch service spread, I often found it difficult to book the room.
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** I have read your newsletter for a while now, and one thing has always stuck me: You often claim to have a number of women subscribers. For a long time this puzzled me: Even though your images are simply beautiful women, enjoying themselves, their bodies, and being naked, why should other women want to look at them? It's men who like to look at women, and women who like to look at, well, not a lot really - the odd male picture but they don't seem to share the same fascination with looking at the opposite sex naked as us men do. This got me thinking as to why? The only way I could hope to answer this was to look at why I look at women, and why my fiancŽe doesn't really look at men. I realised that it's maybe a primitive urge that the man is in control and hence the man is more concerned over the choice of a woman than a woman is over a man. This has developed with the internet and magasines etc into the modern day, hugely money making pornography industry. So I then looked at myself. I am engaged - I have a partner for life, so surely that urge to look at women has no longer got a purpose? So why do I still do it? It was while I was pondering this that my fiancŽe walked into the room, naked. My instant thought was "Wow. She's beautiful. 3.5 years together and I still absolutely love the sight of her naked body." And thus it struck me - it's the love of the sight of such beauty. Of course, your site has been telling me that for a long time anyway, but it's never really sunk in. Until now. I asked her what she thought of me looking at naked women on the net. She said "You are a bloke - blokes do." This stuck me as an interesting viewpoint, as she had unthinkingly put me in the same class as all the other men who (mostly) just look at degrading xxx porn. And so I did something I thought I'd never be able to do: I brought up DOMAI on screen with her in the room, and showed her what "porn" I look up. She was pleasantly surprised, and, while she said she is still not too interested in looking herself, she is now totally happy with me looking and will allow me to do so with her in the room, as she knows I'm simply admiring the delightful sight of one of Gods most radiant creations: Women. Thank you DOMAI! Philip
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---*** Dear Eolake: I have been wandering around adult sites for awhile now not because I enjoy the grotesque caricature of human sexuality that we call pornography , but simply because I have a fondness for the aesthetic qualities of the female body and I had assumed that wandering through page after page of revolting porn was the only way to find nude women represented on the web. On some free daily pic site, I found a photograph of Aneli and it took my breath away--she was healthy, naturally pretty, and photographed as the enigmatic and powerful goddess that she, and all your other models, are. Not only did I follow a link back to domai.com, which is something I have never before done, I have also been seriously contemplating over the last few days joining domai.com, which is also something I have never done. As a woman myself, I had gotten terribly sick of seeing my kind represented as heavily made-up, silicon-pumped prostitutes whose only sense of self-satisfaction could come from getting a man off. I suppose what I appreciate about domai.com--aside, that is, from the beauty of the models themselves, though their breathtaking faces and healthy, natural bodies contribute to this--is the ethos behind it. The women on domai.com do not seem to be here to make men horny enough to lay down cash to see them in even more explicit photographs, and the women on domai.com's sense of happiness does not seem to hinge on how hard they make their male audience. I suppose, in a few words, what I appreciate about the women of domai.com is that their beauty simply is. It is not cheapened by artificial sexuality, nor is it hidden by breast implants or garish make up. Beauty for the sake of beauty. That is something there is not enough of in the world. Johanna, Oklahoma
***--- Letters from the Nude letter contest -- tell about your nude experiences with your nude friends and share with the world the joy of being nude and living nude ---***
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