It was a warm late June night in Ovid Square in a seaside town. Although past midnight, the town was still very crowded.
The men presented themselves impeccably, in elegant suits with flowers at the buttonhole, women of Bonton flaunted their glamorous cleavage toilets, wearing hats and lace collars.
The townspeople were art lovers, and the sensation of the night was a beautifully lit theater scene, strategically placed in the middle of the square, where two young people with perfect silhouettes were making love, the perfect example of the high-class exhibitionism. There was nothing factitious in the whole representation, the bodies of the two had not been altered by any artificial modification, everything was of a perfect naturalism.
The square was surrounded by small stalls of small traveling merchants from where you could buy everything you wanted. The aromas that came from all directions represented a mixture of popcorn, hookah, bead, cotton wool on the stick, and refreshing spirits. The elderly smoked cigars and watched the performance sitting comfortably on the oak benches upholstered with great care by master craftsmen.
Dressed in a plaid harlequin costume, I then went on stage, raising a pearl scepter in my hand.
What could be more wonderful in this world than watching your wife making love to another man, I said then into the microphone, asking for attention for a few minutes.
Which can be a more generous and dignified path than total debauchery, devoid of any self-imposed restrictions following toxic indoctrinations that have burdened people for too long.
The true path to truth can only be followed by stripping yourself completely of modesty and abandoning yourself to both the pleasures of the spirit and those of the body.
Shame and jealousy darken our minds, preventing our access to enlightenment, pure love, and freedom.
My dear brothers and sisters, lovers and lovers, husbands and wives, men and women, undress right now in the bare skin as you were brought into this world by the good God and abandon each other without restrictions, in a true banquet of joy and carnal pleasures. Be free and happy!
And with these words I turned the speaker buttons to the maximum, the moans of pleasure of the two lovers on the stage sounded provocative, spreading throughout the square. The statue of Ovid looked approvingly from above, from the stone pedestal. After all, that’s what “Ars Amatoria” is all about!