One night, I dreamed that I was at a public market. I was wearing a loose, thin dress that left me rather exposed. The deep cleavage in front was cut almost to my navel. From the side, you could see clearly the form and shape of my breast. Only my areolas were covered, and sometime not even that. The flow of cloth down my backside presented the unmistakable outlines of my buttocks. The hemline was long enough to cover my private parts but flowed in a manner that did not always do so. I had no undergarments, and the thinness of the cloth allowed my darkness triangle to show through.

My acute sense of being on display caused me to seek cover before I realized that, even though I was in a crowded market area, no one seemed to care that I was showing more than I wanted. Indeed, as I looked around, I noticed that several women had their breast completely exposed and that, although their nether regions were covered, few made any effort to hide their treasures below. About were young men in various stage of nakedness, most without a stitch. The most amazing thing was that no one seemed to take notice.

As I gained courage and began to feel less on display, I walked about the market looking at the fruits and vegetables and also at the lovely naked bodies around me. As I turned a corner, I came upon a scene that struck me as quite unusual. A male artist was painting a woman sitting in a chair wearing an attractive off-white, flowing dress. She was the epitome of elegance. Her hair flowed down her neck and onto her shoulders. The mounts of her breasts were defined by a sensual show of cleavage. Her dress accentuated the curves of her hips and molded to her shapely legs. She was strikingly beautiful. The artist, however, was completely naked.

He had his own beauty on display. He shoulders were strong and muscular. His stomach was toned and flat. The mounts of his buttocks were well-defined and beckoned my eye. And, of course, his penis was long, actually quite long, and had a thick, large head covered by his uncircumcised foreskin.

To my mind, the scene was all backwards. She should have been naked and subject to the gaze of a clothed artist. Even more surprising was the fact that those around him were focused on the model and not the erotically charged naked man. I was the only one who positioned myself so that I could view the fullness of his glory. Before long, he noticed my interest in him and not her. I saw him become self-conscious of his nakedness, his exposure.

At first, he just continued to paint as he normally did. I became increasingly fascinated by how his penis swung from side to side as he walked back and forth to get the proper perspective. It was an erotic display that no one seemed to notice. Soon however, I began to have an effect on him. I noticed the first signs of arousal when his penis seemed to lengthen somewhat and his foreskin began to peel back. His shaft stiffened and lifted ever so slightly from its flaccid resting place. Soon, his penis was arching upward, and more of its tumescent head became visible. The glans was actually massive and appeared very sensitive.

Again, I was surprised that no one seemed to take notice. Here he was, sporting a fully revealed, rigid penis that was at least the length of my two hand put together. His girth would exceed by ability to grasp it with one hand. I know because, when he called a break, he walked over to me, and I reached down and took hold of his massive tool. I could not restrain myself. It grew even harder in my hand. I began to stroke it slowly. I felt my hand glide over the prominent ridge of his helmeted pole as I slid his foreskin back and forth. He gave a slight shutter as tightened my grip.

He moaned and whispered into my ear, "Tonight, tonight." I felt his first spasms just before his warm discharge coated my hands. I continued stroking his penis until he went flaccid. His member, still engorged and massive in appearance, glistened with a thin cover of semen. He, then, broke away and went back to his painting, his elongated, spent penis dangling between his thighs. I confess I wanted him inside me.

I desperately needed a change of scenery. As I left his street studio, I came face to face with two grown men with only a piece of cloth draped over their shoulders. No effort was made to conceal their sex as they walked about. One of the men came up to me and struck up a conversation, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He said that he was on his way to the forum and asked if I would be attending. I was still trying to pull myself together. I hadn't had much experience talking to a naked man in a public setting and had a hard time keeping my eyes off his exposed member and my mind on what I was saying. I blurted out that I was and asked if I could walk with him.

This confrontation with male nudity caused me to think about Freud, and how he thought that women believed they were missing a penis. I don't feel like I am missing anything, but I do think that the naked male has an added dimension of exposure. His vulnerability is more public because the penis is more visible. It has to do with the way the male body registers gender through the prominent display of the sexual appendage. I am not saying that I never feel exposed or vulnerable -- I felt both wear this skimpy dress -- but only that the core of my sexuality is not on center stage in the same, obvious way. I have always loved looking at the naked male body.

I should also add that I don't equate nudity with sexuality, but I do think that nudity unveils a sexual dimension of a person. Even when aroused, I don't flaunt my arousal the way a man must -- his physical attributes give him no choice. What an erection announces, a man cannot hush. But even when his member is flaccid, I get to see the instrument of his sexual intercourse. I see a sexual potential in his nakedness that I don't see in the naked female. His sexuality is more on display.

I am not sure exactly what there is about an erect penis that catches my eye and excites my imagination. There is something about the degree of exposure that comes with a public erection. When a penis is at its full length and size, it reveals its deepest secrets. It registers a desire to receive but also to give pleasure. Perhaps it is only that, while I don't equate nudity with sexuality, an erect penis is all about sex.

As we got closer to the forum, I began to notice that there were more and more young adult males about. Except for a rare few, they were all completely naked with only a cloth draped around their shoulders. Many were talking with young women wearing short skirts similar to mine. Most left their breasts completely bare. Believe me, it was an erotically charged scene.

The sly glances downward that the young women gave their male cohorts were rather obvious. Their flirtation was open and aggressive, and pushed the limited, but did not transgress, of my sense of decorum. Actually, I don't know the etiquette of public encounters between a semi-clothed women and completely nude men. It seemed that one could openly admire but could not touch.

This worked for several blocks until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a beautiful young woman caressing the very erect penis of a well developed young man. My male escort pretended not to notice, but I could tell that he too was attempted to cast his eye in this direction. The man's penis was quite large, and her grip could not completely encircle his girth. The length of his shaft allowed both of her hands to glide easily back and forth in long flowing strokes. I could feel my arousal heighten as I watched.

I slowed my pace so that I could linger before the scene that was playing out before me. She whispered in his ear while her hands worked furiously. I could see his pleasure mount. Putting both hands together, she began a circling motion that started at the tip and ended at the base of this hard appendage. I saw his back arch and heard a faint moan before I saw the spurts of his semen gush forth in several spasms. His cum covered her hands and glistened along the span of his shaft. I saw his body relax and the tension of his climax dissipate. Slowly, his penis went flaccid. She maintained her grip until he was completely soft. I had to move on.

As I walked further, the flirtatious atmosphere intensified. The contrast between the semi naked women and the completely naked men became starker. More and more, I saw young women engaging in conversation with young men with obvious erections. Every now and then, I came upon a woman with her hand grasping a hard, throbbing penis. I was stunned by how odd it was that everyone seemed to think this kind of public behavior was normal -- that somehow it was not extraordinary for nude men to be conversing with semi-nude women stroking their erection.

Finally, I arrived at the Forum. I was completely confused. As I have stated several time, I don't equate nudity with sexuality, but the same does not apply to publicly displayed erections. Nowhere did the boundaries hold. Even flaccid men seemed sexual, and men with erections seemed only nude. Everything was a blend of elegant and erotic nudity.

I entered the gallery and took a seat. On the floor were men wearing only the barest pieces of cloth draped over their shoulders, each seeming to make sure, however, that his manhood was clearly visible to everyone. One after another arose to make a speech. Although I heard their words, I paid no attention to what they were saying. My mind and eyes were on the displayed private parts. If I thought about anything, it was how the boundary between public and private had faded as had the boundary between nudity and sexuality. By allowing everyone to view the physical nature of their maleness, they were making themselves vulnerable to another judgment. The object of concern was their character, but the mode of assessment was the display of one's body in full measure.

These thoughts were interrupted when a slave was brought onto the floor. He was completely naked and had an enormous penis that hung to his lower thigh. The leader of the Assembly turned to the women in the gallery and asked for volunteers. A chorus responded with willing shouts and a flood of waving hands. Somehow the leader chose a stunningly beautiful young woman, and she enter the floor and immediate disrobed. She knelt before the naked slave and took his penis into her mouth. It grew and stiffened to almost unimaginable dimensions.

She struggled to take more than a fraction of massive manhood into her mouth. Using her hand, she vigorously stroked his shaft. Soon, I saw his body tense, his orgasm erupt into her open mouth. His cum ran down on to her chin. She held his penis in her mouth until it went limp. She stood, stepped aside, and another gorgeous woman took her place.

She also disrobed, knelt before naked slave, taking his flaccid penis into her mouth. It took a bit longer, but it again stiffened and filled her mouth. She stroke it furiously as she struggled to take as much of him as possible into her open lips. Once more, his body tensed, and his climax erupted. I saw her work her mouth up and down his shaft throughout his orgasm. His shaft glistened with semen. He was soft before she rose and stood to the side.

I am not sure how, but I was the third women to knelt before the well endowed slave. I could taste the cum from his previous orgasms on his penis. As soon as I took him into my mouth, I felt him begin to stiffen. I was amazed that someone could have such virility. I worked vigorously with my hand and mouth. At first, I could get little more the head of his penis into my mouth. Soon, I was able to take about half his shaft. It seemed to completely fill me.

I realized that, quite unconsciously, I was stroking my swollen clitoris. The pleasure I was receiving was fantastic and mounting. I could sense an earth-shaking orgasm coming. Suddenly, while my mind was on my wet, throbbing sex, I felt him exploded into my mouth. It awoke me, and I found myself with my husband's erect penis in my mouth and cum running down my chin. My hands were working my hard, sensitive clitoris.

As my husband's spasms subsided, wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over me. I could feel my sex contracting, my body shuddering. I gained control of myself only after I fell to his side, spent. He looked at me in amazement and asked what in the world I was dreaming. I only smiled and put my hand on his limp penis. Unlike the slave of my dreams, he stayed soft. I closed my eyes and drifted off to a magic market filled with naked men.