Dealbreaker: The Never Nude Dude
If you’re an Arrested Development fan (if you’re not, shame on you!) you’ve certainly had a good laugh or three at Tobias Funke, the never-nude. In sitcom humor, the idea of a grown man who refuses to be naked is funny but, let me tell you, in real life it is not. In fact, it’s near tragic.
My first boyfriend was, well, my first everything. He certainly wouldn’t have won a Brad Pitt lookalike contest, in fact, he probably wouldn’t have even been invited to compete, but he was funny and that’s how he hooked me. We were both in high school, but he had more bedroom experience than I did so I always let him take the lead, which is why I never questioned his insistence on leaving on his undershirt. That’s right, he’d take off his polo or his long-sleeve t-shirt but never that white Hanes V-neck. I always thought he kept it on just in case the parents returned home early. Now that I look back on it, I see how absurd that was. A few boyfriends and some actual chest-on-chest contact later, I met another great guy. Again, he wasn’t signing any modeling contracts, but, to me, he was sexy as hell. The first time we had sex the shirt stayed on, but I assumed it was because we were too passionate and there just hadn’t been time to remove the extra layer. It wasn’t until the next day when flashbacks of my ex began to creep in that I feared I had another never-nude on my hands. Immediately, it became my job to get those nipples exposed. I’d playfully tug at it and beg, “I want this to come off.” But my pleas always seemed to go unnoticed (though he’d always seem to hear me when I’d ask him to go faster — go figure.) I pushed the issue a few more times but was afraid bringing it up too much would make him even more self-conscious.
After a few weeks of shirted sex, I figured I should try something else: back rubs! He was super receptive — he even leaned into me and told me how great it felt. I took that as my cue to try for the undress. Failure. He pulled it back down before I even got it above his belly button. Then I hit a tense spot and he asked, “Do I have knots?!”
“I don’t know, I think I need to see it to find out. Let’s take this off.”
“Let’s go to the movies!” he fired back, yet again keeping himself hidden.
Now, at first glance this shouldn’t be labeled as a dealbreaker. After all, he was incredible in bed, funny, charismatic and all that cutesy crap. My issues set in when I realized something made me feel oddly vulnerable about being the only one who’s butt-naked. I’m no Gisele Bundchen, and my tummy looks more like a bundt cake than it does a pancake, but I buy into that romantic notion that if you really love someone, you love their flaws, too. My imperfections were out there for the whole world to see, but these guys wouldn’t undress because of a little belly pudge? Plus, perhaps even more unfortunate, it completely ruled out any possibility of shower sex.