I'll get nostalgic as well. The eighties found me in my athletic and sexual prime. Had several very intense relationships, and had met the woman who would become my wife by 1984. Physically I was extremely fit. Dancer build, powerful legs, flat stomach and strong arms/chest. Trim and solid. Loved sex, and was open to just about anything. Posed nude for several of the college's art classes, and multiple times for one particular girlfriend who fancied herself an artist (poser). A number of those adventures are
described in my blog.
I agree that it seemed like people were far less hung up then, but that might be reflective of my being in college. I ran with a pretty open and sexual group, always very fashionably dressed and clubbing in trendy spots in Hollywood, West Hollywood and Westwood. My "crew" ran the gamut from effeminate gay guy to a sexually aggressive athletic straight couple. We were regulars at Club Lingerie and the recently-opened Hard Rock Cafe. We played strip poker together, with the first person completely nude required to satisfy the last person dressed. Regardless of gender. Was kind of amusing to note who tried the hardest to win when the first person was chosen.
Had a beautiful fuck buddy who loved oral sex. Described it as playing Skin Flute. Was also meticulous in her grooming which made going down on her a real pleasure. Stupid stuff like the time a woman I knew - good friend, but not a girlfriend - decided I needed blond highlights, which necessitated a very long evening with me in nothing more than a towel, and my roommate (male), his girlfriend, and this woman all sitting around talking and "helping" her do the highlighting. My roommate later came out as Bi...
The society was both more restrictive (still homophobic) and yet liberated at the same time. Fortunately we were in L.A., I'm sure the mileage in Peoria differed.
But the '80s also introduced AIDS, which I knew nothing about until I was visiting a friend at SDSU and went out with her and her gay roommate. I still remember the coffee can on the bar with a donation request and bright red arrow pointing down with a dollar sign.
We all get nostalgic for our youth, and I'm no exception.