nude pics, photos of nude woman and models

Well, here we are again, at the start of the greatest year ever, and DOMAI kicks it off with this bonanza newsletter and gallery. Hope you enjoy.

Oh: it's hard to pick favorites amongst such a picture bounty, but isn't this an amazing photo?

Eolake Stobblehouse

Letters To DOMAI


I graduated from college ten years ago, in the spring of 2000.  I entered school expecting to find myself constantly surrounded by beautiful, inhibition-free women; a constant cast-member of a Animal House style sex comedy.  I was disappointed when I found that the collegiate experience of the late 90s, at least at my heavily academic New England university, was nothing like the movies had prepared me for.  There were plenty of parties, and through the first few years I had a string of serious and not-so-serious girlfriends.  But for the most part, my weekend evenings were spent in small groups in the dorms, talking, joking and drinking--and everyone stayed fully dressed. 

However one night, late in my sophomore year I, along with two of my closest male friends, ended up at the off campus apartment of Julie, a girl we had all known since the year before.  She was a senior, and lived with two other senior girls.  The night we went to her apartment was the first real hot day of the summer that had just began to arrive, and we were all in shorts and t-shirts.  We arrived at around 9 o clock, not sure whether to expect a party or not.  Julie had called my friend Arthur that afternoon, and was not clear on the details.  When we got there, however, it was clear this would be a quiet evening.  Julie and one of her roommates, Gabby, had been watching TV.  They welcomed us in, and we spent the next few hours sitting in their living room talking and drinking wine and beer.  Around 11:30, the door opened and Rachel, their third roommate, whom we had never met, walked in.  She was very beautiful, tall and slender, with pixie-like brown hair and a very cute face.  She greeted us all, and then began complaining about how hot it was outside.  Before anyone could even begin to agree, Rachel pulled her T-shirt off, revealing her bra.  Gabby and Julie started laughing, while my friends and I were too shocked to join in. 

"Really Rachel?" Gabby asked, through her laughing, "Even with guests here?"

"I have a feeling they don't mind," Rachel replied, "do you?"

She had directed the question right at me, and I quickly composed myself.  Trying to think of something witty, all that came out was "Not at all."

Rachel nodded at Gabby as if to say "I told you so," and quickly snapped off her bra.  This I had not been expecting, but needless to say was very pleased by.  Her C cup breasts sat beautifully on her chest, larger than I would have predicted them to be after seeing her in the bra.  Chris, our third friend, breathed a barely audible "nice" that he clearly did not intend to be heard.  But Rachel giggled, and said "Thank you."

"So," I turned to Julie, "is Rachel topless a common sight in this house?"

As Julie began to speak, Rachel interrupted her, "Not just me, we all walk around here naked.  At least when its this hot out."

I looked to Julie and Gabby, and Julie blushed and nodded. 

"Well don't let us get in the way," Mike blurted out, in what I initially thought was a tactless move. 

There was a pause, Julie and Gabby looked at each other, and then looked back at us.  Finally Julie blurted out, "Well what the hell! It's too hot in here!" and she stood up, and slid down the skirt she was wearing, revealing that she wasn't wearing any panties.  And a moment later her cotton tee was also lying on the floor.  Julie was a petite redhead, and her neatly trimmed pubic hair was the same color, though a little darker.  Her chest was covered with freckles, and her breasts which would be classified A-cups if she ever wore a bra were perky, centered by tiny pink nipples.  I noticed that Rachel too taken her shortsoff, and was just sliding out of her panties.  But Gabby was still fully clothed.  Julie looked at her, and said "Well?"

Gabby smiled a sly little grin, and looked at me directly in the eyes.  We had been flirting all evening, and I knew what she was thinking.  She said to Julie, "I'll get naked if they do too."

Julie turned to us, and shrugged, "Well?"

My buddy Chris whipped his shirt off right away, and the girls all started laughing.  I followed suit, and soon we were all three naked, except for Mike who demanded that he be allowed to keep his boxers on.  Gabby found this to be acceptable, and stood up, suddenly seeming shyer than she had all evening.  Gabby had always been a modest girl, and none of us knew anything about her sex life.  When the rest of us were in shorts and t-shirts, Gabby still had on a sweater, albeit a very light one, and jeans.  She slowly took the sweater off, revealing the tight cotton tank top she had on underneath it.  I notice for the first time how large her breasts were, normally they were hidden under layers.  She pulled the tank off, revealing that she too wasn't wearing a bra.  Her perfectly formed breasts hung there, quivering as she laughed.  She then very slowly unbuttoned the jeans and slid them off.  All that was left were her black panties, which came down as well.  To my surprise she had her pubic hair waxed, the Brazilian style which was just coming into style.  After a few moments of not quite comfortable but not uncomfortable silence the gathering continued as it had before, and soon I forgot I was naked. 

There was nothing particularly sexual about the evening, and everyone went to sleep that night in their own bed.    Gabby and I dated over that summer, but we eventually grew apart as she went on to graduate school.  I still see each of those girls every few years, and we keep up on facebook.  We don't often talk about that night, but I am more comfortable around them than I am around almost anyone else.  And if I end up at Julie or Rachel or Gabby's house on a future hot night, we might just end up naked again.


Letter 2 by Erik S:

Robert A. Heinlein is one of the most well-known "Dirty Old Men" in recent history. He had the DOMAI attitude before many (most?) DOMAI readers were born, and kept them throughout his life.

Many people have enjoyed his books, for whatever reason. Most would agree that there is lots of nudity and/or sex in most of them not specifically written for teens, especially those that involve Lazarus Long and his family, but there is a passage from the 1963 book "Glory Road" that really seems to strike me as having the DOMAI style.

(In context, the narrator is at a nude beach, La Plage des Grottes on Īle du Levant, off the French Riveria.)


Woman, girl -- I couldn't be sure. At first glance I thought she was eighteen, maybe twenty; later when I was able to look her square in her face she still looked eighteen but could have been forty. Or a hundred and forty. She had the agelessness of perfect beauty. Like Helen of Troy, or Cleopatra. It seemed possible that she was Helen of Troy but I knew she wasn't Cleopatra because she was not a redhead; she was a natural blonde. She was a tawny toast color allover without a hint of bikini marks and her hair was the same shade two tones lighter. It flowed, unconfined, in graceful waves down her back and seemed never to have been cut.

She was tall, not much shorter than I am, and not too much lighter in weight. Not fat, not fat at all save for that graceful padding that smoothes the feminine form, shading the muscles underneath -- I was sure there were muscles underneath; she carried herself with the relaxed power of a lioness.

Her shoulders were broad for a woman, as broad as her very female hips; her waist might have seemed thick on a lesser woman, on her it was deliciously slender. Her belly did not sag at all but carried the lovely double-domed curve of perfect muscle tone. Her breasts -- only her big rib cage could carry such large ones without appearing too much of a good thing, they jutted firmly out and moved only a trifle when she moved, and they were crowned with rosy brown confections that were frankly nipples, womanly and not virginal.

Her navel was that jewel the Persian poets praised.

Her legs were long for her height; her hands and feet were not small but were slender, graceful. She was graceful in all ways; it was impossible to think of her in a pose ungraceful. Yet she was so lithe and limber that, like a cat, she could have twisted herself into any position.

Her face -- How do you describe perfect beauty except to say that when you see it you can't mistake it? Her lips were full and her mouth rather wide. It was faintly curved in the ghost of a smile even when her features were at rest. Her lips were red but if she was wearing makeup of any sort it had been applied so skillfully that I could not detect it -- and that alone would have made her stand out, for that was a year all other females were wearing "Continental" makeup, as artificial as a corset and as bold as a doxy's smile.

Her nose was straight and large enough for her face, no button. Her eyes --

She caught me staring at her. Certainly women expect to be locked at and expect it unclothed quite as much as when dressed for the ball. But it is rude to stare openly. I had given up the fight in the first ten seconds and was trying to memorize her, every line, every curve.

Her eyes locked with mine and she stared back and I began to blush but couldn't look away. Her eyes were so deep a blue that they were dark, darker than my own brown eyes.

I said huskily, "Pardonnez-moi, ma'm'selle," and managed to tear my eyes away.

She answered, in English, "Oh, I don't mind. Look all you please," and looked me up and down as carefully as I had inspected her. Her voice was a warm, fall contralto, surprisingly deep in its lowest register.

She took two steps toward me and almost stood over me. I started to get up and she motioned me to stay seated, with a gesture that assumed obedience as if she were very used to giving orders. "Rest where you are," she said. The breeze carried her fragrance to me and I got goose flesh all over. "You are American."

"Yes." I was certain she was not, yet I was equally certain she was not French. Not only did she have no trace of French accent but also -- well, French women are at least slightly provocative at all times; they can't help it, it's ingrained in the French culture. There was nothing provocative about this woman -- except that she was an incitement to riot just by existing.

But, without being provocative, she had that rare gift for immediate intimacy; she spoke to me as a very old friend might speak, friends who knew each other's smallest foibles and were utterly easy tete-a-tete. She asked me questions about myself, some of them quite personal, and I answered all of them, honestly, and it never occurred to me that she had no right to quiz me. She never asked my name, nor I hers -- nor any question of her.

At last she stopped and looked me over again, carefully and soberly. Then she said thoughtfully, "You are very beautiful," and added, "Au 'voir" -- turned and walked down the beach into the water and swam away.


In other parts of the book, Heinlein occasionally adds to this description in bits and pieces. (My favorite such line: "She knew she was female, she knew she looked good, she liked it that way.")

Immediately before the above passage, Heinlein says something that could have been straight off the DOMAI website:
 "Some people disparage the female form divine. Sex is too good for them; they should have been oysters. All gals are good to look at; the only difference is that some look better than others. Some were fat and some were skinny and some were old and some were young. Some looked as if they had stepped straight out of Les Folies Bergeres."

Note: - Glory Road by Robert A. Heinlein, copyright 1963

-- Erik S

Newsletter archive

"I am a member and I enjoy your past galleries and new ones as they become available. The reason I felt compelled to send this to you is I just subscribed to [adult site], which is way more expensive than, but I'm already regretting it. They claim to have many sites but most of the sites are one page each and the quality of the content is pathetic. They do have a wide variety of content but the quality is just lacking. I will soon unsubscribe from them and find a better site to spend money on.  I will maintain my membership with Domai though, you will keep me as a member for as long as I can afford it, which should be a long time. I'm on disability so I don't have a lot of money, but your site DOMAI is very reasonable in cost and your women, even though they vary, are better to look at than what I see elsewhere. So, in closing, I'd just like to thank you for your attention to quality of your galleries and the nice simplicity of the website navigation. I know I at least made a good investment in subscribing to your website." -- Sincerely, LB

[I had to remove the gallery from this page.]

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