You walk your bike into the park and find yourself surround by dozens of people who have collected for the ride. Some of them are pumping up tires, some are talking and laughing, many of them are nude. Scanning the crowd as you unbutton your shirt, you see men stepping out of their jeans and underwear, exposing theselves as if doing so was the most natural of activities. You see breasts swaying freely when a girl bends over to tie her shoes while her friend stuffs their clothes into a backpack.
You look down at your bike laying on the grass as you slip your shirt off your shoulders, wondering how you look compared to the other men here. Sitting on the grass to take off your shoes, you notice your heart beating faster. People are taking pictures with cameras and cell phones all around. Across the way a girl is writing something on a naked guy’s chest in body paint. Back on your feet, you unbutton your jeans, sucking up your courage, determined to go through with it. You’ve never done anything like this before, you have butterflies in your stomach.
A giddiness passes through you when you feel your jeans slide down your legs. Just as you go for your underwear, you notice a girl nearby looking at you, smiling. Even though she averts her eyes, you suddenly feel light headed, fighting back second thoughts. But no, you’re going through with it. Naked, you pick up your clothes and put them in your backpack, stunned when you turn and see the girl snapping your picture.
The crowd begins to thin as the participants push their bikes toward the starting line, most of them naked, all of them having fun. Most of the guys are naked. For their own reasons, some of the girls have left their panties on. You’re surprised by how many have shaved their pubic hair, guys and girls both, and wonder how you would look if you shaved yours.
You see people that have shed their inhibitions, ready to peddle through urban streets lined with onlookers taking pictures. You see penises of every shape and size, feeling more comfortable about the shape and size of your own. You see fat people and thin and in between, some in fine shape, others in want of a good exercise program. You see a guy sporting an erection and hope that doesn’t happen to you, though no one seems to notice or care.
You lift your leg over the bike, feel your balls dangling freely, feel your bare skin resting on the saddle. Your balls are splayed on the seat between your legs, your penis has drawn into your body with just then end of it peeking out. Looking around, you notice that seems to be common.
Eventually the ride begins. There is a grin on every face, an expression of exhilaration. The throngs lining the sidewalks are grinning too, and taking their pictures. You notice you don’t feel quite as naked as you did in the park, just the opposite, this feels natural.
The girl next to you hasn’t shaved. She’s peddling gayly, her breasts and hairy vulva fully exposed, her legs set in a casual rhythm. She looks at you and smiles, then glances down below your navel before she returns her eyes to crowded road ahead.
Sure, it’s a protest against carbon based fuels, but is that what this ride is really about? Maybe it’s also a protest against closed minds and misguided moral codes. Maybe it’s a rally for body acceptance, a way for the enlightened participants to enjoy their bodies, the feel of fresh air on their skin, and the freedom to be naked. Maybe it’s simply accepting the euphoric freedom to be exposed, to look at human bodies and feel the eyes of others on your own.
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