The Only Dressed Man in the World

Author's foreword:

In looking to change things up for this year's contest, I thought I'd dabble in an underrepresented category. The end result -- a story about Superman. My familiarity with the character is pretty much limited to a few movies, TV shows, and general cultural awareness. So, if anything is "off" or "not cannon," please don't hold it against me.

What you won't find in this story -- superhero vs villain battles or sex acts physically impossible without a pair of superheroes. What you will find -- a slow-burn, introspective, romantic tale...with nudity and superpowers.

-WC

#

The Only Dressed Man in the World

Superman puttered on his way back to Metropolis. He'd left that morning to help resolve a hostage situation in Calcutta and assist in the repair of a broken pipeline near Prudhoe Bay, a fairly typical Sunday, but then made a completely unnecessary side trip to deal with a small forest fire in an uninhabited corner of the Yukon rather than hurry home to spend weekend time with Lois. He didn't know which was worse, that he was avoiding her or that she probably wouldn't mind. Their dating relationship had clearly soured, yet neither seemed able to pinpoint why or what to do about it.

As he soared over the lush green forests of upstate New York, just below the commercial airline corridors, Superman was jarred from his distant thoughts by cries for help. He pulled up and scanned the area beneath him, his super vision allowing him to quickly spot a capsized boat in the middle of a modest-sized lake. Three people were in the water around the vessel and he could already see one boat turning to assist. It didn't look like anyone was in any real danger, but he seized the opportunity to further delay his return home.

Superman closed the miles in mere moments and came to a hovering stop twenty feet above the scene of the accident. Two women and one man, all well into their twenties, clung to the overturned hull of the sailboat. On seeing him, they waved and hailed him.

"Pretty sure that's not the proper way to sail one of those things," Superman said with a smile. "Want a lift to that boat heading over?"

"Absolutely," said one of the women, a brunette beauty. "But take those two first. They're the guests."

Superman usually stuck to the rules of chivalry, helping women and children first, but there was an earnestness in the woman's voice, something he recognized in himself, and she didn't seem to be in any distress. Nodding in acknowledgement, he dipped down into the water to wrap an arm around each of the other two. Both looked slightly embarrassed, a look he saw frequently in those he rescued, but the real reason became apparent when he lifted up out of the water--they were completely nude. Not the usual sort of rescue, then, he thought.

He gently deposited the nudists into the motorboat, which had slowed a couple dozen yards away from the capsized vessel. The driver and passenger of the boat, a couple pushing retirement age, were also nude. Must be a clothing free resort somewhere on the lake, Superman figured, politely nodding and careful to maintain eye contact. It wasn't the first time he'd rescued people in or from awkward situations.

"Thanks, Superman," the young woman said, blushing and batting her eyes a few times more than necessary.

"Yeah, thanks," the guy said. "And, uh, sorry about...you know."

"Not a problem," Superman said. "Best bathing suit money can buy, if you ask me."

"Ain't that the truth," the older woman said with a chuckle.

"Excuse me," Superman said and flew back to fetch the other woman.

"You know I feel awful about this," the woman said as he settled into the water beside her. "I'm sure there are a thousand things going on around the world right now that could use your attention more than me and my decrepit boat."

"Nonsense," Superman said. "I was just passing by. Would have been rude not to stop."

The woman disengaged from the capsized boat and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts into his chest. Her dazzling green eyes met his with a rare self-confidence.

"Didn't say I was complaining," she said. "And, as long as you're here, I don't suppose I could talk you into dragging my shipwreck back to shore?"

Superman chuckled. "Happy to. Where would you like it?"

The woman pointed toward the shore about half a mile away. "See the red life guard tower? That's the resort."

Superman found a secure hold on the edge of the boat and lifted both it and the woman out of the lake, going slowly enough to let most of the water drain out. He made a pass by the motorboat to let them know he would take his passenger back to shore with the sailboat. While he wasn't technically human, he was as human as the next guy in many regards, and felt himself blushing slightly at the circumstances.

"Rescue many nudists before?" the woman said conversationally.

"Uh, no, 'fraid not. Curiously, they rarely seem to get into trouble."

"Huh. Never thought about that before. Wonder if there are some statistics available. Maybe we should qualify for cheaper insurance. Anyway, might make an interesting angle for a story."

"Story? You're a writer?"

"Only part time," she said, shrugging in his arm. "Half the year I run this place, Bare Hollow, and the other half I do some freelance writing for newspapers and magazines. Most of what I've published is for the AANR. Sorry, the Association for Nude Recreation. Newsletter, website, that sort of thing. Hard as hell to break into the big time."

"So I've heard," he said, completely sympathetic after having struggled to maintain a cover job in the industry.

"I'm sure I can get a little mileage out of this story, though," she said, beaming. "'Superman Saves Nudists.' Meh. I'll have to work on the title."

"You'll have to let me know when it's published."

"Give me an interview and I'll even send you a free copy."

The woman clearly tried to make it sound like a joke, but Superman sensed a bit of underlying hope there. No doubt, an actual interview with him could give her career a nudge. It hadn't hurt with a certain someone else. He turned down most requests these days and he could only imagine how Lois would react.

"I might be able to do that," he said before he could talk himself out of it. "Where and when?"

He set the boat down on the resort's stretch of sandy beach as dozens of naked people of all ages gathered to see the spectacle. He landed a few feet away and let the woman disengage. She was beautiful--tanned and fit, with a sunny smile and completely at ease in her own skin. She only appeared a little flustered at his acceptance of her request.

"Seriously?"

"I can't promise anything," he said. "No telling when there'll be some crisis or other than needs my attention."

She tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips. "I'll take a maybe. You have no idea how hard it is to land a good interview."

Superman did, but he simply nodded.

"Like I said, I run this place, so I'm here all summer. I live in an apartment behind the main office. Evenings are probably best, after things settle down, but I'm flexible."

"Very well, miss," Superman said, slowly rising into the air.

"Chase. Anna Chase."

"Miss Chase." Grinning, he nodded at her, waved to the crowd and cheering kids, and took off faster than a speeding bullet.

#

"Clark, I think we need some time apart," Lois said. She stared at him long and hard across the table and over her glass of wine. "Call it what you want. A time-out, a break-up, a breather. I just need some time to figure things out."

Clark knew she meant it. He could read it in the subtle vibrations in her voice, the dilation of the pores in her skin, the pattering of the heart within her ribcage. Mostly, he knew it because he knew her. Lois had fallen for Superman, who was more icon and force of nature than a relatable human being. She'd settled for Clark, largely a fictional cover who was simply too nice, too small-town for the larger-than-life, world-stage reporter. Try as he might, there had been no solid footing between those two extremes on which to build their relationship.

On top of that, she'd explained that it was difficult to relate to him. With his super senses, he knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. Humans had a certain level of cushion between their inner self and the persona they put forth to the rest of the world, be it in the clothes they wore, the words they said, or the way they acted behind closed doors. With him, there could be no such barriers. It seemed such a simple problem at first, but over time the strain had begun to take its toll.

Clark felt some of the same frustrations. He wondered if he might be losing himself in trying so hard to be the person she needed. Being true to himself, however, might be impossible given the boundaries he'd established and the secrets he needed to maintain. Maybe some time apart was what they needed. How did the saying go? If you loved someone enough, let them go?

"I can save the entire human race, but somehow my relationship with you is outside of my grasp."

"Clark, don't..."

"You're right, Lois. I'm not trying to talk you out of it. Some things just aren't entirely within our control."

"You really think so, or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

"You know I can't lie. Especially to you."

Lois set her glass on the table and sighed. "No, you can't. That almost makes me feel worse."

They sat in silence for several minutes, both staring blankly at the cold, half-eaten dinner. Neither wanted to say goodbye, but there was nothing else to be said. Clark tilted his head at the sound of distant sirens. In Metropolis, there were always sirens, but like he'd told Lois, he never lied.

"Sounds like someone's in trouble," he said. He knew it sounded weak, but Lois nodded and forced a smile.

"Go fight the good fight," she said. "And take care."

"Yeah, you too."

Superman left through the window.

#

Superman went on a tear of super heroics, even by his own high standards, over the next couple days following his break-up Lois. His alter ego had cashed in on a week of vacation from the Daily Planet, and as Superman he tried to block out his emotional turmoil by keeping busy. The world benefitted and humanity's gratitude went a long way toward easing his conscience.

Three days on, however, even he was wearing down and needed to take a break. The idea of returning to a quiet, lonely apartment wasn't very appealing. Neither was the utter solitude of his Fortress. On the flipside, he wasn't feeling terribly sociable either. He remembered his promise to Anna Chase, however, and wondered if she might be free to do that interview. In their limited interaction, she struck him as a good conversationalist.

It was well after dark when Superman arrived at Bare Hollow, for which he was grateful as he didn't feel like drawing attention to his presence. He skimmed over the tree tops, hearing snippets of laughter and soft music from around the campfires and within the tents and RV's spread across the property. There was an infectious camaraderie to it and he felt himself more at ease than he'd been in weeks, even though he wasn't a part of it.

He found the resort's office and landed around back in a small yard with vegetable garden, made private by a thick wall of undergrowth and woods. Soft yellow light filtered through closed curtains in two windows flanking a door. He could hear the soft drone of a television coming from within.

Using his penetrating vision, he scouted out the apartment so he wouldn't risk catching Miss Chase at an inconvenient time. He knew it was something of an invasion of privacy, one he tried to refrain from taking advantage of too often, but it was so innate as to be difficult to avoid at times. As he'd explained once to Lois, could you stop seeing the color red?

The interior of the apartment was small--a single bedroom and bathroom, modest kitchen and living room. The décor was a mixture of styles, suggesting continuous habitation and addition of furnishings and knickknacks spanning at least three decades. Houseplants were perched throughout the clutter, yet it looked well-kept and clean. Anna was the sole occupant, sprawled out on the living room couch, her attention focused on the laptop perched on her bare stomach rather than the television across the room. As before, she was completely nude.

Figuring catching a nudist lounging around naked didn't fall into the category of catching someone at a bad time, Superman knocked at the door. Anna flinched, but quickly recovered and set her laptop on the coffee table. Superman appreciated her figure as she uncoiled from the couch -- the gentle swaying of her breasts as she crossed the room and the way her calves flexed as she glided on the balls of her feet. Could anyone fault him for spying just a little bit when it would be a shame for such beauty to otherwise go unappreciated?

Anna opened the door and her eyes went wide at the sight of him. Superman smiled, accustomed to the reaction, and did his best to project a humble and accessible posture.

"Oh my god! You came!"

"Sorry I didn't call ahead," Superman said. "Is this a bad time? Should I come back later?"

"Yes. I mean, no. This is fine. Good. Great, really." Anna, even in the dim lighting, flushed visibly. "Come in, please."

Superman entered, his cape brushing up against Anna as she held the door for him. She peered around outside, as if worried there might be a crowd, and then closed it firmly.

"Can I get you anything? Drink? I have water, iced tea. Beer?"

Ordinarily, Superman's instincts would have been to politely decline. He wanted this interview to be a relaxing experience, however, and he got the sense that she needed a few minutes to calm back down. Anything that might resemble normalcy should help.

"Iced tea sounds nice, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," she said, backpedaling to the adjacent kitchen. "Be just a moment. Grab a seat if you want."

He settled into a well-worn armchair opposite the couch. A tension he hadn't realized he was carrying seeped out of his bones, and he let out an involuntary sigh. He'd have to look into getting a chair like this for his place back in Metropolis.

"Lemon?" she called from the kitchen.

"Yes, please." He looked around, taking in more of the homey details of the apartment. "So you run this place? How long have you been here?"

"Since I was born, you could say," she said, returning to the room with two glasses already beading with sweat. She handed him one and then took a seat on the edge of the couch. "My parents started it a few years before I was born. I spent every summer of my life here and when they retired to Florida a few years ago, it felt like the right thing to do to keep it in the family. They still come up here for a couple weeks each year, but otherwise it's fallen to me to run. Keeps me busy."

"I can imagine. Seems like a really nice place. Friendly."

Anna nodded. "Some of the most down-to-earth people in the world."

Superman chuckled. "Sounds like where I grew up. Well, aside from the nudity part."

Anna smiled. "Don't be so certain. Nudists come from all walks of life, from all across the political and religious and geographic spectrum. It's just our society that keeps many of them from being open about it."

"Fair enough."

"And, on that note, I suppose I should get something out of the way. Would it make you more comfortable if I got dressed? I don't get opportunities like this very often. Well, never, really. I just don't want to blow it if you're..."

"It's fine," he said, holding up a hand before she started rambling too much. "This is your home and your rules. And, trust me, I've seen all manner of things in my travels around the world. I'm pretty open-minded."

"Despite of your upbringing?" Anna flicked off the television and snapped up a pad of paper and pen from an end table.

"Has the interview begun, then?" He chuckled as she shrugged innocently. "Yes, you could say I had my eyes opened a bit when I first donned the mantle as Superman. But my parents raised me well, to be non-judgmental."

Anna scribbled something on the paper. "I read the article by Ms. Lane when you first revealed yourself to the world. Re-read it a couple times, actually, just in case you might actually show up here. So I don't want to retread all that ground again. You said you grew up in the heartland of the US. Care to be more specific?"

"Not really. They don't need or deserve the sort of attention that interest in me would no doubt bring."

"Fair enough. I'll start on a different track, then. Now, understand that I don't really expect to publish anything from this interview in anything other than in a nudist newsletter or the like, so I do have to ask a couple questions along those lines."

Superman took a long pull on his tea and set it on a coaster on the coffee table. "Fire away, Miss Chase."

"Anna, please."

"Anna."

"Are you a nudist?"

Superman chuckled and shook his head. "No, sorry. Never tried it."

"Never fought crime in the buff, then? No skinny dipping?"

"No, and no comment."

Anna smiled and scribbled some notes. "Sorry, just had to ask. And what is your opinion on recreational nudity?"

Superman shrugged. "No opinion, really. As long as everyone has a healthy attitude about it, it seems fine to me. Haven't given it much thought."

"Okay. You said you've traveled all over the world and interacted with many different cultures. Do you find differences between those more open to public nudity versus those that are more, say, puritanical or repressive?"

"Sounds like you're asking if the U.S. would be better off if it loosened up a bit when it comes to how it views nudity and the human body."

"Sort of, yeah. Okay, leading question, but it's something on the minds of my readers."

"Understandable. I'm not going to play social psychologist, but I can say that where nudity is more accepted, I haven't seen any indication that it leads to more problems. I've heard that it might even lead to a lower incidence of sex crimes or unhealthy obsessions over the body and sex in general, but I couldn't say with any firsthand experience whether that's the case or not."

Anna scribbled more notes and then looked him in the eye. "Now, I understand that you have x-ray vision."

Superman held up a hand. "It's been called that, yes, but I don't actually see x-rays. It's more of a penetrating vision. I can still see colors in the regular spectrum, just through layers of other material."

"Okay, that makes my next question even more relevant, then. Do people look nude to you, regardless what they're wearing?"

"They could, sure," Superman said. "It's not something I can turn on or off. It's more like depth of focus. When I look at a person, I can see their clothes, skin, muscle, bones, and organs all at the same time. Only, it's confusing to see that much at once. I can focus on one layer and largely ignore the others."

"And what do you usually focus on, then?"

"Their clothes, I suppose," he said. "Clothing is how most people choose to express themselves to the rest of the world, so I try to respect that."

"You've heard the advice to nervous public speakers, to imagine the audience in front of them being naked?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, knowing where this was going.

"Ever try it before? Does it actually work?"

"Honestly, yeah, I've done it before. Can't say it helped much, though, since it's not really all that different from how I see everyone all the time anyway."

"So, in a sense, from your perspective, you're the only dressed man in the world. What's that like?"

Superman didn't know how to respond. It was like Lois has said, it was difficult for him to relate to ordinary humans and vice versa because he saw an entirely different world.