The joy of social nudity in your own home.
AKA: Transforming our home into a nudist haven and how we got there.
Sunday morning, too-early o’clock, or what my military father used to call O-Dark:30
The cats want to be fed. I’m tired and not really inclined to get up, but I don’t want them disturbing everyone else, so I get up and go downstairs to feed them. Unlike almost any other time we’ve had guests stay over, I walk down the stairs wearing my usual night-attire, which is nothing. From the kitchen I can see two of our guests sleeping on the sofa bed. I hear one of the children stirring upstairs, but am not sure which child is up. I feed the cats and return to my bedroom. One of the cats is a kitten, and she has decided that it is time for everyone to…
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