It was obvious to Siobhan that Niall was only partly interested in the relative merits of Milton and Dante but the subject gave him something neutral to discuss as they walked away from the professor's study where they'd just been attending a seminar. She was amused to see Niall avert his gaze so studiously from her body to her face. This was one of the most fun aspects of being a naturist. Not that she was a naturist because she was in some sense an exhibitionist (although there must be an element of that in all naturists). It was her views and beliefs that had convinced her to eschew the tyranny of clothing. Textiles always had difficulty addressing naturists, but at least Niall was trying. And he was so sweet, too. In the seminars, she'd often observed him discreetly scrutinising her naked body. It especially amused her when she crossed and uncrossed her legs. That hilarious expression on his face!
Of course, there were other people in the seminars. And not all of them were as circumspect as Niall. The professor had initially been quite reluctant to allow Siobhan to attend her seminars in the nude, but as Siobhan reminded her, she didn't seem to have any problem with the male naturists, of which there were two in Seventeenth Century Literature.
"But it's different for a woman..." the professor had objected.
Siobhan was sure that if she'd been a lot less attractive or a man (particularly ones as scrawny as Seamus and Rory), there'd have been no problem. It was funny that the more attractive a person was, the more their nudity seemed to be a dilemma. Siobhan didn't care. She was a naturist. And always had been. Well. Since Sixth Form anyway.
"I'm sorry," Siobhan remarked to Niall as they stood outside the Junior Common Room where she could see some of her friends sitting around a table, "I just don't agree that Milton shared the same view of the cosmos as Dante at all. After all, he was some kind of protestant." She smiled. "Anyway! I have to be going! I'll see you at the next seminar."
"Or perhaps before?" asked Niall in a hopeful voice.
God! This textile was trying to hit on her. Siobhan was partly flattered, but she had to be sensible. Niall was at least as different in his lifestyle to her as a prod from an RC. What would her friends say if they saw her with a textile?
"Well, maybe at the lecture," replied Siobhan diplomatically, as she pushed open the door of the JCR and pointedly waved at her friends.
Niall was clearly put out by Siobhan's evasiveness. He hovered for a few moments at the door, clasping his folders and course-books to his chest, while Siobhan strode past the tables and chairs towards where her friends were sitting. As she walked by, wearing only sandals and carrying her satchel over her shoulder, she was sensitive to the eyes of all the textiles she passed by. They caressed her with their gaze, making her feel both self-conscious and proud. No doubt they were trying to spot a glimpse of labia in the bush of her pubic hairs or otherwise trying to satisfy their voyeurism. Why should she care? Everyone should be naked. Then nobody would ever feel ashamed of their bodies. Except fat people. Or old ones. Well, almost everyone anyway.
"Hiya Sian!" greeted Siobhan as she sat down next to her friend who was sitting opposite Patrick and Sean. All of them naturists, of course, and quite happy to be sitting apart from all the textiles in the room, who never seemed to take their eyes off them. Patrick glanced up at her and smiled, his puffy blue cheeks straining from the energy, and then returned his attention to Sean who was his usual tense and wiry self, unable to do more than nod his head at her before returning to his earnest conversation.
"Hiya Siobhan!" responded Sian, who Siobhan could see was heartily bored with her friends' conversation. "You heard about Eamonn?"
"Eamonn? Why should I care about him?" Eamonn was Siobhan's last boyfriend. He had been such a disappointment. Not that he wasn't that bad looking. Well, better looking than Sean, and his emaciated body, with his skin's tendency to erupt in boils and zits. And nowhere near as fat as Patrick. Why did fat people insist on becoming naturists? Was it because they couldn't find any clothes to fit? In bed, though, Eamonn was such a drag. Good the first few times, but then the sex got briefer and less frequent. And sometimes he couldn't get it up at all. That was no fucking good. And as the sex got worse, Siobhan couldn't really see what else she'd liked so much in him. Although he had attractive limpid blue eyes. And his teeth were remarkably regular.
"He's only gone and started going out with Sheila!" Sian explained, grinning in anticipation of Siobhan's response.
"Holy Mother of God! That English bitch!" exclaimed Siobhan angrily. Once upon a time, Sheila and Siobhan had been really close friends. At least, in the first couple of terms of the first year. They went everywhere together. In fact, Sheila had been Siobhan's first friend at university, when she had arrived there, far from home, lonely and anxious. It wasn't easy being a naturist amongst all these strange textiles, and she didn't feel like getting to know any men quite so soon. Even naturist ones. And then she met Sheila, sitting alone and uncomfortable in the corner of the JCR, with a copy of 'Crime and Punishment' to keep her attention off other people's attention. And from then on, she and Siobhan spent almost all their waking time together. That is, when they weren't studying or going to lectures and seminars. And she soon got used to Sheila's funny English accent, which she was sure was posher than it needed to have been coming from Sutton, in Greater London.
"And what's more, Siobhan," continued Sian, enjoying her friend's discomfort, but placing a reassuring hand on Siobhan's bare knee, "Sheila's persuaded Eamonn to go smooth."
"Smooth! Sweet Jesus! You're kidding me. Eamonn would never go smooth. He was so sound."
"I swear on the Holy Bible, Siobhan. Anyway, it's not something he can keep hidden is it? It's all shaved off. All round the pubes." Sian instinctively placed a hand on her own unshaven crotch, the reddish brown hair curling around her vagina, but succeeding rather less well than Siobhan's in disguising what was hidden beneath.
"And under his armpits too?"
Sian laughed. "Simon Peter wept! Siobhan! Not everyone's as purist as you. Smoothies don't shave everything off. Bejasus! It's not like a religion or anything. It's just how they want to be. Seems a lot of hassle to me shaving down there. But even amongst those of us who're not smoothies might want to shave their legs or under the armpits, you know."
"Naturism isn't just about not wearing clothes!" huffed Siobhan. "It's a whole natural philosophy. And that goes for shaving as much as anything else."
Sian stroked the hairs on Siobhan's thighs. "Well, you can get away with it, Siobhan. Your hair isn't all curly and wild. I shave my legs, as you know, and I don't think that makes me any less of a naturist than you!"
"Pooh!" responded Siobhan. "It's the principle that matters. Vanity shouldn't come into it at all! So. Sheila and Eamonn are an item. And Eamonn's gone smooth. Just like Sheila."
The cow! Siobhan remembered when she first saw Sheila's shaven pubes. It wasn't long after she'd started shaving under the arms and on her legs. Things she'd never have done when she and Siobhan were best friends. That was almost the last straw. It was like a betrayal of everything that was dear to Siobhan in their friendship. At least they were proper principled naturists. Not just people who didn't wear clothes. Siobhan had such dear memories of Sheila's pubes. She remembered when they pressed tight against each other: they were both much the same slim build and height, and the pubic hairs would tangle together, Siobhan's dark brown pubic hair, so much a part of her as the dark freckles on her face and shoulders and breasts, and Sheila's thick bush of light brown hair, ever so slightly darker than the hair on her head. And although she'd definitely not gone as far as shaving off her head, (That'd be too kinky by far!), she no longer had the waist length tresses that she'd loved running her fingers through. Now it was styled and cut level to her chin. In fact, if you'd put clothes on Sheila, you couldn't guess she was a naturist at all!
"I'm sorry it had to be me to tell you about Eamonn," remarked Sian, clasping Siobhan's hand in hers. "But I guess someone had to. You're not upset are you?"
It was obvious to Sian that she was, but Siobhan shook her head. She wasn't sure what upset her the most. That her old boyfriend was seeing someone else. That he was seeing her old best friend. Or that, like Sheila, he'd shaved off his pubic hair. Siobhan thought that shaved crotches were undignified at best on a woman, but on a man? Merciful Father! That hairless cock and balls. Christ in Heaven! And would he shave his chest as well or just down by his pubes? The whole idea was disgusting. Gross, in fact! Siobhan would never ever compromise her naturist beliefs in such unnatural ways!
However, it wasn't long until Siobhan got to meet Eamonn in his new smooth guise. She'd gone to the student bar, the Michael Collins, with Sian and Liam, Sian's boyfriend, and there was Eamonn sitting at the table the naturist students usually monopolised, all by himself, except for a pint of Stout and a newspaper. While Sian and Liam got the drinks, Siobhan went over to sit next to Eamonn.
"So, is it true, what I've been telt? You've gone all smooth?" She asked sitting right next to him and glancing down at his crotch.
.... There is more of this story ...