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About now, several weeks. Being chronically ill in bed. It just takes too much energy to put on clothes. I have a bathrobe I can throw on in case I have to go to the toilet while guests are here.

In one go, never wearing any clothes at all, it would have been a week, plus or minus a few hours.

Went to stay with some like minded people for a vacation on private property at the beach. No need for clothes at all as the weather was lovely, the grounds were fenced for privacy, and plenty of supplies were laid in for everyone. Most people there didn’t bother to wear anything at all. Some wore a robe, though rarely tied, instead of carrying a towel or other cloth barrier.

It was definitely a getaway for sex in various forms, but even with the dozen odd couples and handful of singles invited, there were plenty of breaks for other activities. Some would make a trip outside the property to go down to the actual beach, and would slip into swimwear, but once I rid myself of the clothes, I found I didn’t want to put them back on, so never went down, except for one moonlight excursion.

Most of the non sexual time was quiet music, movies, games, and conversation.

16 hours.

Sleeping.

Spent a week and a half after a colorectal surgery, basically laying in the tub trying to sleep as much as I could while occasionally changing out the water to warm it or flush clear blood that had accumulated.

The US healthcare system is a fucking joke.

About a week. It was early in a relationship, having as much sex as we both could handle (which is a lot when you’re newly in love) and just exploring each other’s bodies.

Stuck in the batroom, waiting for water to heat up, so I can leave. I was shaking cold, trying to stay warm.

Back during the pandemic I was naked for a little over a week alone in my apartment until I finally had to get groceries. I was very horny and spent a lot of that time humping nearly every surface in the apartment.