The front door.
White. With a gold doorknob.
Wendy stood in her foyer for several minutes, facing her front door. She wore short white socks and walking shoes. Her house key was on a long string around her neck.
She was otherwise nude.
Wendy had dabbled in exhibitionism for weeks now. One day the urge just struck her. When this happened, she took off all her clothes and stood in front of her door, like she was doing now. She was still fairly young, thin, with decent-sized breasts, and long smooth legs. With her heart beating heavily, even though it was the middle of the night, she had opened her door and stood in the doorway, with the hall light on, bared to the world, or to her moderately busy street anyway.
The rush of excitement on that first night had been amazing. The cool night air on her crotch and nipples. She had shut the door again seconds later, but it was a start.
Now, Wendy felt conditions were perfect to finally venture out, away from the safety of her front door. She'd had a few drinks and was feeling comfortably crazy. It was late June. The temperature was good. It was 2AM. Now was the time. She decided that even if she were to run into someone, she would not flee, but rather allow things to unfold as they may. Never had she felt so mentally and physically liberated.
The door. Yes, it was all about the door.
She opened it, stepped out into the night, and locked the door behind her. Here we go, she thought.
There were streetlights on either side of her, dimly lighting up her bare skin, but no one in sight. Yet. Resisting the urge to cover herself, she strolled down her driveway, reached the sidewalk, and turned right. She tried to walk normally, her arms swinging at her sides. She could feel her keystring between her breasts, could feel the air on her bare butt. At this thought she turned around to see if anyone was behind her, but there was no one there.
She walked past her neighbor's house. She paused and faced it boldly, but no lights were on. She continued to the corner, her heart racing as she approached the bright streetlight, anxious at what was around the bend.
And sure enough, as soon as she turned right, she could see a young man coming toward her, about forty feet away. She stopped abruptly. She could feel sweat bursting out of her skin and her heart beating. The man stopped too. A boy almost, Wendy thought, he can't be more than 19.
Then, amazingly, her arms still at her sides, she continued walking toward him. He didn't make a move, but looked slightly embarrassed. She stopped a few feet in front of him. God, I really am crazy tonight, she thought, smiling.
"Hi," Wendy said.
"Hey," the boy said awkwardly, looking Wendy up and down, unable to help himself. "Uh, you need any help there?" he said with a half-grin. Wendy fought the urge to run. I can do this, she thought.
"No, I'm fine," she said, still sounding as if nothing were out of the ordinary. The boy was carrying a book and a notebook. College kid, Wendy thought. Late-night studying. Wendy watched him shuffle his books around uncomfortably, gaining confidence inside at the effect she was having on him.