Naked Authority: A Machiavellian Libertine in the Rough ⋆ Stefan Diamante

Not a cloud in the high western sky of Northern Colorado as the sun caressed my skin. Temperatures in the low nineties on that July afternoon in 2000. The elevation and absence of humidity kept me high and dry while I commanded the Natural Fort in all my butt-ass naked glory. The locale so named for being a natural sandstone fortification shaped by centuries of erosion via rain, snow, and wind. Its unique beauty scarred with graffiti and litter. An easy target for vandals and disgusting slobs because of its location alongside Interstate 25. Only a few miles south of Wyoming. On the otherwise flat eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains where the Great Plains begin. It was a weekday – I want to say Wednesday – so there was little risk of anyone else showing up. If someone had, it’s anyone’s guess how they would’ve reacted.

I was there with Kate. A real-life 1960s flower child now a middle-aged woman experimenting with photography. We’d recently met and she wasted no time asking me to pose for her. Upfront about wanting to see everything. Wanting to document me in action as I strutted my stuff with authority. Instantly recognizing my shameless big dick energy and love of performing. Shining through the dense clouds of perfectionism and compassion that have dogged me throughout my life. I agreed to pose for her. Thrilled by the opportunity to express myself as I wanted for an encouraging audience and collaborator. I should’ve always listened more to the Kates of the world rather than the haters who would never allow me to please them. Or, if you’ve read my memoir, I should always listen to the Toris and never ever the Beckys. I get that now.

Summer 2000 was the peak of a transitional period in my life that began the previous year and would wind down over the next several months. A frustrating period in my life. I’d exploded into adulthood with born self-discipline and ambition combined with a fun-loving almost bohemian spirit. Working and playing hard as I balanced day jobs with making rock and roll and running the streets of downtown Denver all night long. I was totally on the right track for me but took the advice of those haters and decided to “buckle down” (unnecessarily in hindsight) and take my day job seriously, Even committing the unforgivable sin of getting my long hair cut short. Only to pose a serious threat to said haters and losers who were lazy as fuck. People who never stopped to think and merely reacted. Always negatively. Getting myself run out of that company. Then another. And another. Before yet another.

And there was another after that. One I allowed to exploit my naked ambition and raw leadership abilities at age 21 to get it through its own transitional period before being canned for bullshit reasons, Had I stolen from the company, it surely would’ve pressed criminal charges. But I digress. My next job, which lasted nearly three years, was just around the corner. I was essentially on a three-week vacation when I posed for Kate. And this experience was the release I needed at that moment. Turned loose to unleash my talents as I saw fit. And for someone who appreciated them. Offering praise and occasional suggestions. But never criticism. Because there were no valid criticisms to be made. I led the charge from start to finish. Pointing out every step of the way with my big hard cock. Throbbing from the excitement of liberation from both clothes and walking on eggshells. Only watching out for broken glass as I made my way around the fort. Kate captured my raging manhood and firm round booty all the while. I began the shoot in clothes, but they didn’t stay on long.