That Stupid Hat Pt. 01
by StormyPatti

First time nude in public.

I'll get right to the point. My name is Emma and I am an exhibitionist. I'm 24 years old, 5'2" and a whopping 108 pounds. I have short jet-black hair; my breasts are barely a size 'B' yet, along the road we call life; I somehow became obsessed with the idea of being naked in public.

My parents were liberal minded people and felt you should have as many different experiences as possible, as long as they were in a safe environment.

It was during a trip to a clothing optional beach when my obsession began. My parents and twenty-year-old sister Amy, removed every article of clothing, placed them on our blanket, and casually started walking down the beach. I, having just turned eighteen, was invited of course but refrained. A decision that would haunt me for more than three years.

"Why didn't I take my bathing suit off? Why didn't I walk down the beach with my family? Why did I deprive myself of the opportunity to know how it feels to be naked in public?" I kept asking myself. The desire to know that feeling would only become more intense as time went by.

Now on my own but still living close to my childhood home, two hours north of San Francisco. California, the idea of being naked in public has been either forefront in my thoughts or buried in my psyche for over two years now. Thankfully I have found a way to turn my 'Naked in Public' fantasy into a safe reality.

I stumbled across the idea while in Minneapolis for business. I was on lunch break from a Saturday seminar when I came across a large crowd of people. Naturally I wondered why they were gathering around, so I made my way to a point where I could see what the excitement was about.

Right there in front of me, was a 'Body Painting Exhibition! Nude men and women of all adult ages and body types having their naked bodies painted by art students in front of this large crowd. I knew right then, I had found the perfect platform to experience my hidden desire to be naked in public. Best of all, it was a safe and legal environment.

What struck me first as I surveyed the area was the way the crowd of spectators were watching the event. They took photos and conversed with each other, along with the artists and the models, while remaining placid and laid-back.

Although the models and artists were enclosed within a fenced barrier, it seemed almost unnecessary since no one became unruly. I of course was fascinated with the models themselves. Some were covered head to toe with their artist's colorful expressions, while others were stark naked waiting their time to be turned into a work of art. I became enthralled.

I took some photos of my own making sure I included a clear picture of the large banner positioned above the event organizer's booth. It read,

"This event brought to you by"

"The Carlton College of Liberal Arts"

Below the main message on the banner was a web address. As I was taking my last photo before returning to my seminar, I remember thinking, "I am going to be naked in front of strangers like they are someday". Just then, the shadow of a tall woman came in from my right.

I looked up and saw a gentle smile on the face of a pleasant looking woman in her early forties. She was physically fit, about 5' 9" tall and dressed in blue jeans and a polo shirt that had the Carlton College logo on it.

"Hello", she said in a most welcoming tone. "My name is Angela Sheffield. I'm the public events coordinator for Carlton College. Are you enjoying the exhibit?" she asked.

I hesitated for a moment then stuttered as I uttered the words, "I'm just on break from a seminar around the corner".

She smiled again and said, "Well. If you're enjoying the exhibition, we would greatly appreciate you posting some favorable comments on our website" as she handed me her card. She started to make her way through the crowd of spectators, when she turned back towards me, and said, "We're here until 6:00. Good luck with your seminar".

I returned to the seminar by 1:00, hoping we would be let out earlier than the scheduled 4:00 dismissal time. Needless to say, I found it difficult to concentrate. The images of the naked models were etched into my mind.

The prowess and audacity needed to stand totally naked in front of so many clothed spectators were what I admired most. I couldn't wait to get back there.

The seminar was concluded at 3:45 and I had made my way back to the body painting exhibition by 4:00. A fresh group of models were being painted while some were waiting their turn. They were making their way around the inside of the barriers, taking selfies with some of the spectators.

Those who had already been painted were now circulating among the audience of observers outside the barriers. I was amazed! I wanted to take my clothes off right there and walk into that crowd.

As my mind was wondering, I heard a voice say, "Well hello again". It was Angela Sheffield. I felt a bit embarrassed having returned to the exhibition, but she made me feel welcome. "How was your seminar?" she asked.

"It was fine", I replied.

"Well, you know my name. How about telling me yours," she said.

"Emma", was my meek one-word reply.

"Are you from around here Emma?" she asked.

"No. I'm just in town for the seminar. I fly back to California tomorrow," I answered.

"California is a big state. Are you from northern, southern or somewhere in the middle of California?" she questioned.

"Two hours north of San Francisco", I replied.

What Angela would say next would open the door for me to experience my desire to be naked in public. "Well, Emma from California" she said, "If you should ever want to try modeling at an event like this, I happen to have a good friend who leads the art program at a San Francisco college. The climate there allows them to hold four body painting exhibitions a year. They hold them in Golden Gate Park, where they draw huge crowds."

I was stunned when she continued.

"However, if you do want to try it, there are some things you'll need to know". Thankfully she continued without me having to ask.

"When a model poses nude for an artist or an art class, they are the subject of the artwork. With body painting, it's the artists that is the focal point. Their talent, ideas and the way they express themselves become the center of attention. I'll try to say this next part delicately. The model is basically a blank canvas used by an individual artist to convey their visions."

"Once you come to terms with that reality, you'll understand why models and artists are rarely paired together if they know each other. Any relationship can distract the artist and cloud his or her creativity."

After hearing Angela, you might think the role of a body painting model may be a bit demeaning, but for me, it would be perfect! There would be no question as to why I was naked. That reason would be obvious. Nor would there be any philosophical or moral discussions about the motives behind my public nudity.

I was already fantasizing about engaging in some small talk with a few dressed spectators, while letting them take selfies with me. Angela's honesty may turn some potential models away from considering the activity, but it succeeded in making me even more determined to have the experience.

I spent the next two hours taking photos and short videos of artists, models and spectators around the exhibit, as my desire only increased. Around 5:45 Angela walked up to me and handed me another business card. "Here Emma. This is the contact information for my friend in San Franscico, should you decide to participate. They're having an exhibition in two weeks".

"Thank you", I replied, caught a bit off guard.

"Tell him I said hello if you see him", she said as she walked away. That would be the last time I would see her for two years.

My return flight home landed where my trip began, in San Franscico. It is the closest major airport to my hometown. The city seemed to hold a new sense of adventure for me and the possibility of experiencing my deepest desire now seemed attainable. I drove right to Golden Gate Park and spent two hours just walking around, imagining I was stark naked, waiting my turn to have my body painted into a work of art, surrounded by dozens, if not hundreds of clothed spectators.

I knew then I had to contact Angela Sheffield's friend and volunteer to be a model at the next body painting exhibition. I was soaking wet between my thighs just thinking about the prospect of being naked in public as I went to the college's website.

I was disappointed to find that the model enrollment for the next exhibition was closed. I would have to wait for six weeks to model, if I was accepted at all. I had been harboring this fantasy off and on for over a decade, so what's a few more weeks I thought to myself. I decided to attend as a spectator.

The next two weeks leading up to my first San Francisco body painting exhibition, were full of eagerness and anticipation. I was hoping some models might not show up and the organizers may need some last-minute fill-ins. Wishful thinking I know, but I truly needed to know what it felt like to be naked in public! I wanted to feel the exposure and vulnerability that only that sort of venture could provide. If only just once!

I arrived an hour before the official start time of the exhibition and walked around, just hoping for an opportunity. The staging area for the event was an enormous white tent with no sides or barriers. Just the top, poles and rigging.

I took photos of the artists as they prepared to showcase their talent and the group of models, evident by their nudity. They were gathered in one corner, under the tent.

I eventually surmised that no fill-ins were needed, so spent my time taking more photos, short videos and talking with some of the artists, models and other spectators. During one of my interactions with a young male model, I asked where I might find Angela's friend, Professor Max Zimmermann. The thin but well-toned, fully nude young man in his early twenties, pointed to an elderly man with a trimmed white beard and matching long white ponytail. I nodded, "Thank you", and made my way towards him.

I approached the man with some trepidation, having no idea how I might introduce myself. Only by coincidence, he turned towards me as I approached.

"Hello", he said with a warm smile. "Can I help you?"

In a tone barely above a whisper, I replied, "I was asked to tell you, Angela said hello."

Before I could take a much-needed breath, the man exclaimed in a heavy German accent, "You must be Emma!"

I was once again caught off guard as I nodded, and muttered, "Yes, I am".

Professor Zimmermann was an elderly man with the exuberance of someone half his age, while his smile and demeanor were nothing short of endearing. Until that moment, Max Zimmermann was a name on a business card. Now this sweet older man felt more like a dear friend, if not indicative of the 'fun grandpa' some of us have been privileged to know.

I would soon find out that even 'fun grandpas' have valuable old school lessons they want to share with us. You know. "The back in my day" sort of thing. It would take me an afternoon in Golden Gate Park to see the true wisdom of Professor Max, as he was known. He indicated with a head shake to join him and I eagerly went along.

"Angela knows how to spot talent", he said. "Are you an artist or a model?" he asked.

Not knowing how to respond, I quietly replied, "I'm not an artist".

"So, then you're interested in being a model I presume", he continued.

This was my chance, I thought to myself! All I had to do was say, "Yes!". Instead, I waited for him to continue.

"Emma. We look for models that appreciate all the arts, especially those that portray the naked human form. There is no better subject for true art. However, I will tell you this, we get a lot of crackpots", he continued. "It might just be fulfilling a dare or maybe some inner desire to experience being exposed in public. Who knows? But we do get all kinds applying to model here. We work to determine whether an applicant is serious or just curious. So, what's your interest in this type of art, Emma?", he asked.

It was obvious that Professor Max had been talking about me while talking to me. Yet somehow, I rebounded from the shame and indignity I felt, brought on by the knowledge of my true motives and blurted out, "I feel the only way to appreciate art, is to be part of it!".

He turned, gave me a look of approval then started strolling along with me in tow.

Professor Max took me on a tour that started with a large bulletin board covered with photos of previous events, while all those around us were making last-minute preparations for the start of the exhibition. He showed me the smoking / vaping area for the artists and models, saying, "In case you need to indulge". We made our way around and through the tent area and ended up at the organizer's booth, that was extremely busy.

The two women who were staffing the booth were somewhere in their mid-thirties. They were dressed in white sneakers and socks, tan khaki shorts and dark green polo shirts with the name 'Academy of the Arts' embroidered on them. They were well organized, friendly and had their fingers on the pulse of everything going on around them. Our introduction was brief yet pleasant.

With the grand tour now over, Professor Max looked at me and said, "If you're interested in modeling Emma, we can move on to the next step of the application. We can even do it today if you'd like, since you're a friend of Angela's."

"The next step?" I asked. His response would leave me anxious and a bit titillated at the same time.

"Emma, as I said earlier, we need to know if an applicant is serious or just curious. Too many times, models have gotten cold feet and left artists with no models to paint. These young people work hard and look forward to this opportunity to express themselves. If you are serious, you can get undressed and put your clothes over there," he said, as he pointed to an area lined with clothes from the already naked models.

"Ten years of fantasizing about this exact moment and now I find myself apprehensive?" I thought to myself.

"Take a moment to decide," Professor Max said, in his usual calming tone, stepping a few feet away from me.

I knew if I did not seize this opportunity, I would never get to experience my deepest fantasy and desire, but the task was truly daunting.

I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. I started breathing heavily as I removed my sneakers, socks and shorts. It was so surreal to be neatly folding my clothes as I stood there in public, wearing nothing but my bra and panties.

It was sheer emotional torture to continue but did. I looked down, afraid any eye contact would have me grabbing my clothes and running to my car. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, letting it fall down my arms and into my hands, revealing the breasts that were barely larger than they were when I was a twelve-year-old girl on Martha's Vinyard.

I folded the bra and placed it with my clothes, hoping I didn't have a noticeable wet spot on my white cotton panties. In a moment of uncertainty, I suddenly peeled the panties down past my thighs, stepped out of them and stood up.

I was naked in public; I vaguely remember thinking. Then reality set in. "OMG! I am naked in public!" came this tidal wave of condemning thoughts, as I stood there, trying to come to grips with my present circumstances.

Just then, one of the women who was working the information booth walked up to me and said, "A guided tour by Professor Max himself? Well, that's equal to a $20,000.00 education" as she motioned with her eyes for me to follow him.

I turned towards Professor Max then back to the woman and asked, in the most frightened of voices, "Have you ever?"

She smiled and replied in the most soothing of voices, "Go visit the bulletin board. You'll find me there." She then leaned in closer, and said in a deliberate tone, "Emma. You have a free pass! Enjoy it".

Without even knowing her name, I instantly felt a true bond. During the three short steps to rejoin Professor Max, I turned and mouthed the words, "Thank You".

Within the first ten steps of our journey, Professor Max glanced down at my well-trimmed but not completely bald pussy. He nonchalantly said, "It's not a requirement but we do recommend our models be clean-shaven. The smooth surface of the bare skin allows the paint to adhere much better. It's also not so messy for the artists".

I had no idea how to respond or if I should respond at all. And he said it in such a casual manner, you might have thought he was talking about my toe-nail polish!

It was at that moment, reality set in. My bare pussy, along with the rest of my naked body, was on full display for all to see. The sound of clicking cell phone cameras rang out louder than I had ever noticed before. The normal chatter of those around me seemed almost deafening.

The self-awareness of my public exposure intensified every aspect of my being. My first nude in public adventure left no middle ground for emotions. It was either the feelings of utter humiliation and vulnerability or extreme excitement and sexual arousal.

The idea that people would leave the park that day with naked photos of me had me feeling overwhelmed as I tried to keep in step with Professor Max. I listened to all he had to say, while making sure I continued to make no eye contact with anyone but him. I was still on the fence and felt any passing glance of disapproval would have me covering my tits and pussy in shame.

There was one thought that was foremost in my mind as the professor led me around. "There is no way any first timer would not be struggling with their emotions yet alone be able to feel in any way comfortable. No way!

There is no level of desire or need to fulfill some fantasy that can prepare anyone for the actual experience of being laid bare in front of so many onlookers for the first time. The senses of impropriety, vulnerability and even shame immediately take over. Trust me, I know.

The professor led me through the area where the models had started painting their fully nude human canvases. He stopped and visited with many of them while introducing me around.

Being around others who were also naked seem to take some of the sting out of my first naked outing, yet I was anything but relaxed. My heart was still pounding; my palms were sweaty and my voice cracked when I spoke, so I rarely spoke. I just nodded my head when I could get away with it.

The professor and I revisited the bulletin board. He told me he'd be back in a moment and left me there. I studied the board for no other reason than to keep my full-frontal nudity from being on display. Only my bare back and little butt cheeks could be seen from most vantage points. That's when I found several photos of the woman from the information booth, wearing nothing but some body paint.

I studied the faces of the artists, models and those in the crowd, but it was the expressions on the faces of the spectators that really caught my interest.

They could be described as everything from mildly curious to genuinely engrossed, as they focused their subject matter in their cell phone sights, going for just the right photo.

"Someone could be taking pictures of me right at this moment", I thought to myself, still studying the pictures, while keeping my back towards those surrounding me.

Just then I heard the familiar voice of a woman say, "Makes you wonder how an event like this, that seems to be designed to strip one of their self-esteem and dignity, can have the opposite effect and actually empowers those who participate".

I turned to see the kind face of the woman from the information booth. "Well Emma, my name is Sarah. How are you holding up", she asked in a reassuring tone.

"Not sure. It's really intense", I quietly replied.

"Let me ask you a question", she continued. "If I offered to retrieve your clothes right now, would you want to put them back on?"

I hesitated for a moment, and replied, "No".

"Good girl!" was her enthusiastic response. Sarah then said, "Professor Max had been called away for just a few minutes Emma, and I have to get back to the booth. Why don't circulate around in the artist's area for a while. Make some new friends", and with that, she headed back to the booth, leaving me with nothing but a small patch of well-trimmed black pubic hair to cover my otherwise naked physique. It was so surreal.

I took a deep breath, then made my way around the area outside the artist's section but remained beneath the large tent. I was feeling exposed, embarrassed but also safe.

It wasn't long before two women from the audience asked me to take a selfie with them. Without waiting for my reply, they stood on either side of me, while each of they held up their cell phones and started taking pictures.

I felt like I was trapped in one of those 'only one naked' dreams and I couldn't wake up. Somehow, I managed to put on a smile as they clicked away. The two women said, "Thank you", and walked away, looking at their phones and the images of my naked body that were on them. Is there another word for 'Surreal'?

I didn't realize that Professor Max's few minutes would turn into an hour as I made my way around, during my little solo excursion. With a nervous quiver still in my voice, I spoke as little as possible. When approached by artists, models and spectators, I tried to maintain an aura of calm. I managed to smile during selfies with spectators, while pretending to be uninhibited. The urge to cover my tits or pussy with my hands was a constant battle of the reflexes.

I noticed three adolescent boys whose cameras seem to be pointed at me continuously. I suppose my petite physique reminded them of the teenage girls they went to school with. I found myself allowing them full-frontal access to my naked body, imagining they would be jerking off to my photos later. To be honest, it turned me on. I tried not to let on that I knew what they were up to but found myself feeling flattered.

I had been totally naked for almost an hour. The nervous quiver in my voice subsided and I started to mentally move from feeling like I was observing myself from somewhere outside my body to being truly naked in public in real time. I was determined to enjoy my day in Golden Gate Park.

Just then Professor Max walked up to me and said, "You seem to be getting along nicely, Emma", in his heavy German accent. He then surprised me by reaching into his back pocket and pulling out my cell phone. "I thought you may want this", as he said as handed it to me. I was overcome with gratitude and emotion.

The sudden increased speed of clicking cell phones made it obvious, Professor Max Zimmermann was nearby. It wasn't some mad dash of crazy people chasing a pop star, just generations of local people who know him, many of whom he had taught.

I wasn't until later, after hundreds of photos were sent to the college, that it was brought to my attention what a prominent position I had that day. There I was in dozens of photos, standing next to an animated Professor Max Zimmermann, among the large crowd.

The first photos showed a nervous naked girl standing next to Professor Max. The images that followed showed a person who had evolved from that nervous naked girl to a woman who possessed the attributes of complete confidence, all withing a few minutes.

My facial expressions and body language had matured from a frightened young female to someone who seemed indifferent to her public nakedness in the later pictures. That short span of time was my 'Graduation'!

While the professor caught up with his neighbors, I stepped back and took my very first naked selfie outside my home. At first, I felt a bit naughty, but it didn't take long for me to become consumed by the eroticism of the moment.

It was also at that moment that I realized I had fulfilled my deepest desire. Ten years of fantasy had culminated under a white tent in Golden Gate Park.

Believe it or not, it was the activity around me that allowed me to feel unnoticed, as I continued taking selfies. I paid special attention to those in the background. I wanted to include as many as possible in my photos, validating my achievement.

Seeing myself in those pictures was intoxicating. I was hooked. I had abandoned any and all modesty I may have had and became more confident with every conversation and photo op.

Later that day, Professor Max asked, "So Emma, will we be seeing you here as a model in four weeks?"

My emphatic reply was, "Yes".

He told me to go online and fill out the application but assured me that was just a formality. We said goodbye and I headed for home, feeling triumphant in my quest to experience being naked in public. I was also soaking wet between my thighs. I would take care of that as soon as I got home.

Four weeks later, I made my debut as a model for a body painting exhibition, in the same location where I received my introduction to the artform. Golden Gate Park.

I was happy to find I was paired with a young male art student name Carl. The idea of a young man being in such close proximity to my naked body, as he used his paint brush to cover my tits, ass and bald pussy was exhilarating.

I found myself making eye contact with the spectators as Carl applied the first layer of paint to my body. Shivers ran up my spine when I felt the smooth brush strokes going across my clean-shaven pussy for the first time, but I managed to maintain my composure.

For me, the entire day was an affirmation. What was once my deepest, hidden fantasy had become a publicly accepted reality, at least in this venue.

Carl had masterfully covered my naked form in his version of sheet music. My entire body was covered with flowing lines and whimsical musical notes, from my neckline to my toes. He placed some notes on my pelvis area, leaving my pussy lips only covered with paint the color of parchment paper.

I couldn't have been happier for Professor Max, Sarah and those I had met that day and a month ago to see me like this. I was in a state of euphoria.

I spent the rest of the day posing for pictures, conversing with the participants and asking spectators to take photos of me with my cell phone.

It was everything I had hoped my fantasy would be and more. It was difficult to get dressed at the end of the day, but I decided I would apply to participate as a model for events like this all over the country.

During the next two years, I posed in San Francisco, Philadelphia, New York, Seattle, Las Vegas among others, and many of them more than once. My trips to Minneapolis were special to me, since that's where I met Angela for the first time. The one who helped start it all.

My routine included taking my vacation time to allow for three day weekends. I'd fly to a designated city on Fridays and meet the event's organizers. Later that day, I would get to know the area and take time to experience that particular city's culture. Saturdays were for modeling and my return trips home were scheduled for Sundays.

As you can imagine, I amassed hundreds of naked photos of myself and others. As time went on, I found it harder and harder to find enough host cities to feed my now full-blown addiction. I started to search the internet for smaller venues. That's when things took a dark turn.