Of course, it was something that would happen: it was inevitable she would meet her new neighbour. They lived next door to each other, after all, admittedly in a part of suburbia where the houses were large and the gardens generous. They were not cheek by jowl. Perhaps he had knocked on her door when first moving in: only she had been out. Really, she should have gone around and introduced herself, but she has always been shy, painfully shy. Sal hid behind her glasses and rather too much clothing. Sal had always been like that to the infuriation, really, of her outgoing parents. They were, alas, departed which is why she had their big old house. The house she had always lived in, the house with its big private garden. She had been alarmed when the next-door house had been put up for sale. She did not like change, she had not liked the thought of new neighbours.
The photography club was almost her only real opportunity for meeting people. She found it safe because the same people were there -- the same people, mostly, who were there when she joined all those years ago whilst at school. Sal had been on her way to a club meeting with some new wildlife photographs to show -- not those photographs, not those of her neighbour or herself naked and aroused... or worse -- when she had met the new neighbour outside his house. She had to speak, had to introduce herself.
And, of course, she could not help having in her mind's eye the image of him unclothed, moreover with that large erection she had seen. She knew it was large. Sal might well have never experienced one in the flesh, so to speak, but she was not ignorant -- even of size.
As was her habit, she had trouble looking strangers in the eye, but her downcast eye found itself looking at the bulge at the front of his trousers, the bulge men have and is perhaps most obvious at the swimming pool. Sal did swim. It was a regular habit for fitness, again something dating back to when she was a young girl. She knew the routine. Did not have a problem with that, did not have a problem of walking in, paying her money, going into the ladies changing room, changing and swimming. Nor did she have a problem with looking obliquely at nice men's bulges in their trunks. They were particularly obvious there.
Sal was invited in for coffee by her new neighbour but, of course declined. She was on the way to her club meeting. He then asked about that and she could think of no easy reason, even for her, of declining his further invitation to join him for coffee the next morning. She could hardly say she was going shopping. Obviously she could do her shopping any time.
The photography meeting was a good one. She was a little surprised when Mr. Soames produced a folio of nudes. They were very well taken with excellent lighting and the girl had posed very well. Sal had, of course, been embarrassed by the subject but it was easier to hide her embarrassment by making objective comments. No one there, she thought, would have had any idea of her own nude photography. A much more candid photography of her neighbour and herself. There was nothing sexual about Mr Soames' nudes though Sal did wonder quite how he knew the model.
Mr Soames' work was certainly the main topic of discussion and several members expressed an interest in seeing how well they could tackle nude photography. Of course, the difficulty of finding suitable models was discussed. One or two members saying that they were not too sure their respective spouses would be too happy posing. It was a thought that for a club night they might perhaps hire a model, male or female -- it did not matter.
The appalling idea of the club members taking it in turns to be the model came to Sal's mind. It caused her to shiver. The idea of being naked in front of the other club members quite awful to her. In her swimsuit at the swimming baths one thing - and not actually naked - but nude at a club meeting quite another.
The next morning Sal awoke in quite a sweat. Dreams do seem to pick up on events and concerns of the day before and that had certainly been the case with Sal. She had dreamt of being at her photography club meeting, only, of course, in the way of dreams it had not been at their usual meeting place of the village hall but the swimming baths for no apparent reason, in the illogical way of dreams. They had all, the members of the club, been there in their swimming things and with cameras. They had taken pictures with the slanting light through the side windows of the pool, but the clamour had grown to take photographs of nudes and, in her dream, Sal had volunteered. Again, for no obvious reason.
The awful embarrassment of lowering her black swimsuit down past her chest still lingered in her mind as she lay there in her bed. And then, still worse, taking the swimsuit off completely. Sal could not remember the photographing, but she could remember the bulges in the men's trunks, not just the bulges she normally saw at the swimming baths but the full bulges of retained and contained fully grown penises. The dream had become sexual -- a wet dream. Sal remembered she had dreamt it was Mrs Riley, of all people saying they wanted to photograph copulation and there being a chorus of 'yes, yes, yes, what a challenge.' Sal's protestations were ignored, and she recalled dreaming of Mr Soames coming towards her with erection pointing -- she did not think the dream had bothered with him taking his trunks off. He had just been naked and exposed.
Sal had awoken just as Mr Soames had touched her. She had awoken in a sweat and with herself awash between her thighs. She reached for her glass of water and drank in gulps. Since she had photographed her neighbour and then herself in her garden naked she had been finding sexual thought more frequent. For a moment or two she thought of lying there thinking -- and playing with herself but the sun streaming through the curtains beckoned her outside.
Just descending the stairs naked was not something she would have done before. Certainly, standing and looking at her new and very private photography album with the best of her 'nude' photography (developed by herself in her own little dark room), one handed and with the other touching herself would have been unimaginable outside her bed -- or perhaps in the shower -- before. Her eyes dwelt on the photograph of the ejaculating penis -- her neighbour's penis. He could have no idea she had such an image. It was a large print and filled a whole page. It was very sexual to her. Her fingers played.
Sal stepped out from the French windows into the shade stark naked. The sun was bright, and she squinted. It was a wonderful feeling to be out and naked. Animal like. She thought how good it would be to be away from her garden, perhaps in the forest, on the moor or in the fields naked like that -- and importantly alone. The idea of anyone seeing her too awful to contemplate but the idea of leaving her clothes and just walking like that for a bit, perhaps to sit and... masturbate.
