Firsts Shorts 01: Garden

All my adventures are from when I was 18 and over.

My first ventures into exhibitionism began by wandering around the house in the nude, well before I discovered that my neighbour was spying on me. When I first became sexually active, I'd slid naked under the duvet to explore but eventually realised I found it more exciting to be standing exposed in my bedroom, watching myself in the mirror, imagining others were watching me. I'd stand in front of my full-length mirror and lightly touch my breasts, enjoying how my pale nipples became hard as soon as my fingers stroked them, then run my fingers over the hair covering my mons, which I'd trimmed close even though it was already sparse and light, slipping my hand down between my legs, enjoying the sensation of my fingers exploring over and inside my vagina.

I'd never found nudity embarrassing, perhaps because my aunt, whom I lived with, often walked around the house naked, especially when she had a gentleman friend over. Sometimes I'd risked the chance of one of her friends seeing me walking naked around my bedroom with the door wide open or in the hallway as I fetched clean towels for my bathroom. At first, I'd just wander bare-breasted, wearing my panties, my heart beating fast as I heard someone padding up the stairs. On one occasion, my aunt's friend stopped, shocked, as he almost bumped into me. My aunt found it funny but gave me a look that I knew would later bring up a discussion about my nudity.

She understood my desires, as she had the same inclinations, talked them through with me and encouraged me to explore how being discovered naked made me feel, never once making me think I was odd or weird. With her encouragement, I gained confidence and began walking about with nothing on, even if she had a guest, sensing it was the danger of being caught that was exciting to me as much as the nudity, often touching myself after an encounter, fascinated at how wet I was.

When left alone in the house, I'd strip and walk into the garden naked. At first, I only went as far as the patio, shielded from the detached properties on either side. I did not realise until later that my neighbour opposite was spying on me. I'd become aroused just standing there, feeling the breeze stiffen my nipples. I'd masturbate, legs apart, discovering how to bring myself close to orgasm without quite getting there, prolonging the enjoyment.

The fear that someone might discover me soon dissipated, and I took to answering the door to couriers in a loosely tied bathrobe, allowing it to slip open just as I closed the door, giving them the briefest of glimpses of my nakedness.

One evening it was really warm, my aunt was away, and I'd been naked most of the day. I don't know if it was the warm summer evening, but I found standing by the patio doors even more pleasurable than usual and began teasing myself with my fingers. It was dusk, and I wondered what it would be like to play naked at the bottom of our garden instead of the relatively secluded safety of the patio and decided to see how exposed I'd be on the lawn.

Slipping on a T-shirt and panties, I walked barefoot across the grass. I looked around, seeing no lights in the detached properties on either side, just one bedroom of the adjacent house illuminated by a lamp. Taking a deep breath, I took hold of the bottom of my T-shirt and, in one smooth movement, pulled it up over my head. I felt so excited. It was ridiculous. Biting my lip, I tucked my thumbs in my panties. I slowly pulled them down with the slightest of hesitations and stepped out of them, the feeling of total exposure so naughty but so good. I couldn't have known then that my neighbour was in his bedroom window masturbating as I explored.

Trembling a little with nervous excitement, I touched the neatly trimmed hairs between my legs, my nipples, the tight folds of my labia, and the moist pink inner flesh as I slipped a finger inside my vagina, breathing in sharply as I felt myself shiver, as with my other hand, I rubbed the tips of my fingers over my clitoris.

It didn't take long before I felt my orgasm starting to build. I worked my fingers quicker, holding my breath as I reached the point of no return, slowing, holding off as long as I could before it became too much. I gasped with the release, letting it overcome me, my body shuddering as my legs almost buckled, and my juices flooded over my fingers, wetting my thighs. As I controlled my breathing, I thought I saw a shape at the patio window.

Putting it down to my imagination, I picked up my T-shirt and panties and returned to the house. When I walked into the kitchen, I stopped dead. There was a man's jacket over the chair, my aunt's keys on the hook and a note on the table that just read. 'That was naughty.'

It was apparent that my aunt had come home early, bringing her friend home for the evening, and they had seen me 'perform' in the garden. It was a shock, but I was also instantly wet at the thought I'd had a secret audience (other than the neighbour I found about later). I probably masturbated more than usual in bed that night, thinking of my audience and wondering if they'd comment at breakfast the next day.