Denudate

[Ruggahissy]

((Josh James continued from Day of Sagittarius))

Josh trudged up the path, sighing and scratching his head. He felt every step that he took and each echoed into the next. His legs hurt. The soles of his feet hurt. The inner part of his thighs were sore. Those were only some of his aches and pains, but it wasn’t altogether unbearable or unfamiliar.

He’d come to the hot springs because he needed a bath. Badly. That became even more evident as he dropped his bags by one of the pools, set his gun by them, and began disrobing.

Josh unwound Amy’s cream scarf from around his neck and placed it with the bags. He removed his shoes and socks and placed them neatly by the scarf. Next, he unbuttoned the coat he wore, folded it, and set it next to the scarf. He grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled the fabric over his head. It peeled away from him like a second skin and he was suddenly half exposed. His skin broke out into goosebumps in the frigid air. Blood and sweat and cum had dried down on his body. In theory, he didn’t care about that. In fact, it might have been kind of fun for someone to see the state of him and observe their reaction. However, it was uncomfortable on the skin, itchy, and smelled unpleasant.

He let out a sharp breath, unbuttoned his jeans, and then quickly removed his boxers. Now he was completely naked, and he observed that once again, he was observed. The cameras were here too. Josh put a hand on the center of his chest and looked down at his wavy reflection in the water.

He was handsome, he noted, even in his current state.

I’m handsome, he thought to himself passively, like saying that the sky was blue. Just like tons of other guys wandering around the mall or the park or school. In fact, some days he didn't even see that he was handsome. Some days he thought he looked good while some days he thought he looked weird or unattractive.

Josh slowly lowered himself into the warm water. He breathed deeply and eased down until he was submerged up to his neck.

Compliments about his physical appearance didn’t mean anything because it didn’t matter, and it wasn’t even a compliment for something he’d done. He hadn’t decided to make his face look like this or his hair blond. He exercised and so the way his body looked was somewhat his doing, but it was also part genetics, and it wasn’t like he played lacrosse so he could look good.

It didn’t really matter if he was handsome. Even if it was true, it hadn’t ever helped. People looked at him and would say that he was good looking, but that didn’t mean anyone wanted to talk to him. Girls still made fun of him for being too quiet, too boring, too shy, too religious. Guys tended more to just ignore him. His homecoming date still ditched him.

I could get dates, but I couldn’t get a girlfriend.

If people say I'm hot, then that's not the problem. It must mean my personality is really that lame that I can't find someone. he would think to himself.

People not liking him because he was ugly would have been more bearable.

So he stopped trying to connect with people.

Josh rubbed his hands against his skin until it was clear. The warm water relaxed his muscles. He dunked his entire head under the water and vigorously scrubbed his hair. At a certain point he decided he needed to get out now, or he never would.

Josh pushed against the rocks of the spring and lifted himself out, clean and baptized anew. He took out underwear and socks from his own bag — the only spare clothing he’d brought with him. He laid them out with his clothes and then stood up straight. Josh yawned, laced his hands together and lifted them above his head, stretching. As he brought his hands down, he touched the bandages. Wet. He’d need new ones. Then he touched his arms and chest.

He was fine with the camera seeing him.

Now everyone knew he was more than just the outer shell, so he didn’t mind being seen.

((Josh redressed and continued in Dance of the Matador))