One Night on the Roof

Night had fallen over Cleveland an hour ago. Minutes ago my friend Barbara had left my Euclid Ave apartment. The week found her home alone and her husband Paul, a musician, spending a few days with longtime friends in California.

Her visits, though rather infrequent these days, are always a good time. We engage in girl talk, have a few laughs, consume a small pot of coffee and listen to jazz in the background.

Standing just 5' 3 she must tilt her head to meet my eyes a full 7 inches higher than hers. Her modest breasts are a B cup, two sizes smaller than mine. Even so, she is quite pretty, though I do at times wonder if she envies my boobs or is happy Not having them. At least she has never been asked if they'real. An uncouth male did once ask that. It's really none of his business.

At age 30 "Babs" teaches science to sophomores and Juniors in the Cleveland school system, a job which she has held for 5 years. That night she made a surprising revelation.

"I want to quit teaching. It dosen't pay enough to deal with the agrevation."

"Where would you work?"

"Anywhere, but I'll check out Ferro," she replied. "Maybe Paul can help get me in there."

"It's worth a try," I said.

That revelation came within the first five minutes of her visit. Just before leaving she made another revelation, this one a real shocker.

"I was preparing dinner in the nude the other day."

What could I say to that? My mouth went agape.

"That's nothng new for us. We enjoy not wearing clothing."

"Really," I exclaimed.

"My house, my rules," she replied, her tone matter of fact.

I immediately got a mental image of her inverted triangle shape.

"How long have you guys been nudists?"

"Since last summer," she replied. "On a lark we went to Drakes Ridge in Bennington, Indiana, a clothing free resort."

Why would she think I care where she stayed naked? It's not like I'll ever go to such a place.

"You seem to be very comfortable in the nude."

"We are," she replied.

I asked, "what about when company comes."

"At first we would put clothes on. After a while we said 'screw the clothes'."

"No one is shocked," I asked.

"They don't care."

On a deep level going skyclad appealed to me but I couldn't admit to that. I focused on work. At home I focused on staying fit, reading and keeping in touch with friends, anything to suppress the desire.

Barbara is one in a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, some of whom live in this building. Some are older than me. Some may be understanding, others judgemental. Some have had me as a guest and I have recriprocated. What would tenants reaction be if I decided to go skyclad, to do the unthinkable?

That visit was made o a Monday night, By Wednesday at 10m p.m I had made up my mind. In less than two minutes I climbed two flights of stairs and came out to the rooftop patio. Within seconds I slipped out of the black squareneck jumpsuit, bra and panties.

I couldn't resist swaying the hips and rising on my toes making the boobs jiggle. Call me an exhibitionist, but nudity feels good. I found myself enjoying it immensely.

My deed was a secret until it wasn't. Saturday night found me on the patio again, this time sitting at a table smoking a New Port 100. There was a mild easterly breeze and the sound of traffic on Euclid Ave.

Barely five minutes passed before I got company in the person of Zach Lawton. The youthful brunette stopped and stared from about five feet away. Neither of us spoke for several seconds. I took another long drag off my cigarette and exhaled the smoke downward to my left.

"Would you like company?"

"I don't mind," I replied.

He approached slowly and took the seat across from me.

We fell into easy conversation even though he was staring at my boobs.

Zach, it turns out, had been a tennant in the building for four years. Though we had crossed paths a few times, we had come to know each other only superficially. That is to say I knew nothing except that he works out.

He finally remarked that "seeing anyone up here naked is quite a surprise."

"I guess it is," I replied.

Several seconds passed in silence then I spoke "By the way, they're real."

He gave a silent nod then after a few seconds remarked that he "wasn't going to ask."

"You never took your eyes off them."

Again he met my remark with silence.

He pulled his shirt off uncovering a toned upper body. He stepped back from the table and pulled off his pants revealing the "tent" in his briefs.

Barely a second afterward he got out of his underpants revealing the biggest erection I ever saw.

"Masturbate for me," I commanded, my voice barely above a whisper.

The shaft protruded barely an inch above his hand. I locked my eyes onto his rapidly movng wrist. My tongue swiped my lip. He moaned sofly as he worked his organ.

The seconds ticked away as I waited patiently for him to ejaculate. He slowed his hand then quickened its pace. A minute later he slowed his hand again. Suddenly white goop spilled over the pink head and down along the shaft.

"So hot," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hand stopped moving but remained wrapped around the shaft as though squeezing out the last drops of his cum.

He finally spoke again, this time asking "do you masturbate."

"Sometimes," I replied, my mouth widening into a toothy grin.

"Do it for me," he commanded.

I pushed the chair back from the table and opened my legs. My fingers found my clitoris giving it a hard rub causing that organ to swell.

Zach's eyes locked onto my sex until a toe curling orgasm left me exhausted and huffing. While I slowly recuperated from the exertions my eyes held his eyes.

He still had a erection when I had fully recuperated so I went onto my knees putting my face in his lap. His shaft slid slowly across my lips almost to my throat.

In the nights the followed Zach and I came to the patio again and again. Sometimes we just talked. Other nights found us having sex. Little by little we were getting to know one another deeply.