About a conversation between an Exhibitionist and a Voyeur.
Of course, I had previously enjoyed a ray of sunshine naked in my garden. However, always in such a way that the neighbours cannot see me through the only window that would otherwise offer me complete privacy if it were not there.
It is the window of their bathroom, which apparently never has closed curtains. It is impossible to look in from my level, so I would have to place a ladder against my apple tree if I wanted to peek in on them. I estimated that there are about six to seven metres between the window and my lawn.
I had been invited to the neighbours' for tea when I first moved in to get to know each other. Then I saw that, like in many houses, the toilet was upstairs on the first floor, in the bathroom, with the toilet right under the window.
The neighbour and his wife are friendly people, but we do not seek contact, and apart from a sincere good morning or evening when we meet, we have little in common. Maybe because a man is rarely seen with me and they can't assess my private situation, looking more like a single mom and a son, but I don't care.
Sometimes, I run into the neighbor at the weekly vegetable market in the village. Due to our remote rural location, it is closer than the nearest large supermarket, and I am willing to go there once a week to get fresh organic vegetables. When we meet, the conversations are always short, without real depth, more out of politeness.
Their window did limit a few important hours of sun, directly south facing just above their roof. Limiting, only in the sense of being able to sunbathe naked unseen. If he had seen me sunbathing in that spot before, it was always in a bikini, but in such a way that the position was exactly as if I were displaying myself in front of that window.
That afternoon, I was busy weeding, without clothes, when the sun's rays on my body told me it was an ideal moment to get some extra vitamin D and a tan.
I sat on my garden chair, which I had strategically placed in the sun and covered with a few comfortable cushions. Against my will I had put on a bikini, because you never know, you don't want to shock people! It went against my character, I who loved to walk around naked at home and in my garden and who, in principle, did not care about being seen on a nudist beach or in the sauna, had to cover up now. Where I find it exciting to parade around naked, here I have to act like a conservative woman, in my own garden!
It did not take long before I put my magazine aside and dozed off into a short afternoon nap. When I woke up, my eye fell on the window and there he was.
I have no idea how long the minutes had passed while he was motionless but clearly looking at me. If he was standing up to pee like a man, there must have been gallons of piss flowing down the toilet by now!
Now that I was awake and had noticed him, I wondered if I should wave to say hello. Doing nothing when he knew I had noticed him was even crazier, I thought to myself, so I waved my hand accompanied by a friendly smile on my face. He waved back briefly and disappeared from view. I didn't care, found it funny, and quickly forgot about the incident.
A few days later it happened again: time to take advantage of the nice weather, because England is not always blessed with unlimited days of sunshine. I rummaged through my drawer to pick out a bikini and suddenly found myself with a micro version in my hands. Christian gave it to me as a present because he wanted me to show it off on a public beach in a sunny southern country. I never worn it because we always end up on nudist beaches. I tried on the little thing, which consisted more of strings than anything else. The micro royal blue triangles were just enough to cover my private parts. Two triangles went just right over my nipples and another "untraditional triangle", with the small base down and the point up, just covering my vagina lips. In the back, only a lace went between my buttocks. This was very daring and sexy. I was starting to get horny!
I decided to go for it. I convinced myself that people didn't spend all day in the bathroom and considered the chance of being seen in this provocative bikini nil.
Once on the couch in the sun, I checked the window now and then. No one in sight! Okay, read on. A little later, the window wasn't empty. There was the neighbor. He couldn't help but notice the difference between my previous bikini and this one, and I wondered what he was thinking. I waved again, out of politeness and actually because I didn't want to pretend to be different than before. Then something happened that I hadn't anticipated. I felt myself getting turned on because he was staring at me. It reminded me of a year ago when, after a long build-up of new behavior, I dared to be naked in my garden during a visit from my gardener, actually the first "acquaintance" with whom I dared to be open about my exhibitionist behavior.
Until now, I only played exhibitionist games in places where nobody knew me, mainly abroad or somewhere in a big city like London where I can blend in with the crowd and expose my pussy at well-chosen moments by creating a deliberately, but coincidentally-seeming upskirt situation for randomly chosen voyeurs, which many men are, when they can see something sexy or intimate about a woman. Sometimes briefly, like on the metro escalator, sometimes longer, like on the metro train during the entire ride, when my subtle body language invites one or more men to look between my legs at the place of missing or forgotten panties.
Depending on my mood, I would then pretend I didn't realise they were peeping between my legs, but equally, when I am horny, I can look them straight in the eye, making them feel caught. If I don't have any work-related appointments, I also regularly go out without a bra, preferably in a slightly transparent blouse or with a low-cut neckline. That day, I was not in a short skirt on the train or commando somewhere in the city. I was lying on display in my garden, basically seeking an exhibitionist challenge.
My gardener had changed in the meantime, and I didn't have the same connection with the new one, who now always came in pairs; nothing happened with that. But this staring neighbor, who was still standing at the window after a few minutes, intrigued me. He showed courage. Courage to keep looking, knowing I knew that he noticed me. Normally, you expect someone to immediately pull away from the window if they are caught peeping. Not him.
After a while, I turned face down, to offer my back some sun, knowing full well that he could see my bare ass. When I turned back around, he was standing at his window again! Well, he must have to pee a lot! It was now certain that he did not take offense at the view that I offered him. In the meantime, my exhibitionist bells started ringing, and I discovered an opportunity to feed them with a new experience, close to home.
In the meantime, I was used to being a nudist, not only at home but also on public beaches. But I did not seek to expose myself to acquaintances, although I do find it exciting to be seen.
Until now, I had succeeded in keeping my "double life" separate from everyone I consciously want to keep in the dark. I go to nudist beaches and nudist resorts abroad, have a lover abroad, go to public saunas abroad, and even to a swing club abroad. If I were to give a private performance for the neighbour now, my behavior would, after the gardener, once again be linked to me, my person, my name, my address. So, I wanted to be sure and confident before going any further.
Not long after that, I met him at the market. That day, I felt that he was looking at me differently. I decided to speak to him as usual, and after we had briefly talked about the new neighbours, I gathered the courage to mention what had happened.
"I saw that you had seen me that day when I was sunbathing in my garden," I said shyly.
"Eh, yes indeed, I saw you," the neighbour said.
"I hope that is not a problem because with the nice weather that is predicted, I would like to do that again - sorry that my best spot in my garden facing south is right under your window!" I laughed.
"Oh, no problem," said the neighbour, "You can do what you want in your garden, right?"
"Glad you think so!" I said and walked on to the next stallholder.
The next day, nice weather was announced, and I was there again. I had planned to sunbathe around the same time as the previous time and hoped he would be there. I had long been used to planning my work, which I do mainly from my office at home, so that I could enjoy my garden and pool for an hour in the afternoon. I had thought about it and wanted to show him I didn't mind him looking at me. When I installed the lounger in its usual place within sight of his window, it was still in the shade. If he was in his bathroom and saw the empty lounger, he could assume that if the sun's rays reached that place, I would use it.
And then it happened! I took a place in the sun, wearing my mini bikini again. I was reading my favorite magazine and occasionally looked up from behind my sunglasses to see if there was any movement. And yes, not long after, I saw him at the window. I waved and said hello, not loud enough for him to hear me through the glass of his window. He waved and saw his mouth move as if he was answering, and without knowing lipreading, I could see he said hello back. Then, he disappeared from view.
A little later, he was there again! So I had his attention, because if it was the first time he had to pee, he would have to have drunk a lot of water to go to the toilet again fifteen minutes later. This time, I looked him straight in the eye again but without gestures, just to let him feel that I knew he was there and looked at me. When he stood there for more than one pee, I wanted to seize the moment and put my magazine on the grass. I sat up, and while I continued to look at him, I untied the bow of my top on my back.
When I took the two small pieces of cloth from my breasts and let them fall next to the magazine on the lawn, I gave my neighbor the pleasure of seeing my naked tits. I lay down again on the backrest that was adjusted fairly upwards so we could keep an eye on each other as easily as possible. I smiled at him briefly, and he smiled back. The fact that I had waited for him to take it off must have been a message, I suspected, and his approving smile told me I was right. I wanted to test how long he would stay there and now felt the moment had come to show my backside again. While I kept eye contact for as long as possible, I turned around, only turning my head away at the very last moment.
