Cruising Bare

This was back when it was cool, before all the OnlyFans girls started doing it for tips and notoriety.

I honestly don’t even know what sparked it. One minute I was lying in bed, bored out of my mind, and the next, this random idea popped into my head: What if I just went for a drive completely naked?

Not in underwear or wrapped in a blanket. I mean fully naked, with no backup plan.

So I did.

I stripped off everything and walked out to my truck. Totally bare. It was late enough that the neighborhood was quiet, and my truck sits high enough that no one in a regular car could really see inside unless they were trying.

The seat was cold, and for a second I questioned everything. But then I started driving, slow and steady, like I’d done it a hundred times before. And suddenly, it just felt right.

I didn’t even touch myself at first. Just being out there, naked, doing something I definitely wasn’t supposed to be doing, was thrilling enough.

Then I saw a cop car, pulling up to the traffic lights in the opposite lane.

We were just sitting there, facing each other, waiting for the light to change. Despite the fact that I could barely see them, I started panicking that maybe they could see everything.

The light turned green.

They drove past like I was just another car. No sirens. No second glance. Just… nothing.

And once the panic wore off, it hit me. I was insanely turned on. Like, out of nowhere. One second I thought I was about to get arrested, and the next I was just buzzing. I found a quiet spot, pulled over, parked up, and let it all sink in.

At first, I just touched myself gently, slowly, not in any rush. It wasn’t about getting off quickly. It was about the moment, about the strangeness and freedom of it all. The quiet. The solitude. The sense that I could do anything I wanted.

I came once. Then again. At some point I climbed over to the passenger seat for more space, then eventually ended up in the back, stretching out fully.

I stayed out for hours. I drove to a few different spots, just because I could. Took my time. Lost count of how many times I got off.

By the time I finally made my way home, my whole body felt warm and loose. My thighs were still shaking.

And of course, the moment I opened the front door, trying to slip in quietly, I ran right into my mom.

She was standing in the hallway in her pajamas, glass of water in hand, staring at me.

“Where are your clothes?”

I shrugged. “Didn’t put any on.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Where were you?”

“Just went for a drive.”

There was a pause, a look that said she was weighing her options, deciding how much she really wanted to know.

Then she just shook her head, muttered, “Oh my god, you girls are hard work,” and walked off.

And honestly, she wasn’t wrong. Between me and my sister, she’d seen it all. But believe it or not, I was always the less chaotic one. The softer brand of weird.

It still makes me laugh every time I think about it.