The day was already shaping up to be hot and the air conditioner was a bit iffy. I'd had a shower but instead of getting dressed I was wandering around the house starkers. Well, why shouldn't I? It's my house and no-one else was home. Even if George, my husband, had been home you can be damn sure he wouldn't have complained.
Think about it. I was a twenty five year old blonde. I had a D cup and my breasts were firm and ripe with no noticeable sag, something I probably couldn't say in another five years. I was also fit and reasonable athletic, giving me a very nice figure.
So what was wrong with me being nude? Nothing. As a matter of fact I might even sneak out into the backyard later and catch a few rays. There weren't any obvious windows over-looking our yard.
I had the front and back doors open so a bit of a breeze could blow through the house. This helped keep the place cool and also blew away any mustiness that might be about. We had security wire doors both back and front, which meant I could see anyone who was outside the door but they couldn't see in. Or break in, for that matter, because they were pretty good doors.
The reason I mentioned being able to see through the doors was because a man was walking down the drive towards me. He was carrying a clipboard so I guessed he was probably a poll-taker, but he could just as easily be a salesman. Whatever, I'd just tell him I didn't want any, whatever it was.
The man came strolling up to the door, proving himself to be blind as a bat as he didn't notice the door-bell stuck on the wall and tried to open the security door to knock on the main door. Tried, hell. The security door opened just like that, leaving me to assume that my asshole husband had forgotten to lock it on the way out. It hadn't even occurred to me to check it because I always keep it locked.
So there I was, standing in front of this stranger stark staring naked, because no matter how you twist it a blush and some sunshine do not equal clothing. If anything the sunshine made it worse as it shone over the man's shoulder and left me highlighted.
He didn't try to come in, just stood at the doorstep looking me over. And I mean really looking me over. His eyes went from my head to my toes, stopping at all the interesting bits in between, and then reversed, going from my toes to my head, again stopping to admire all the interesting bits.
"Good morning," he said. "I'm here to, ah, to, oh, the hell with it."
He gave a sigh and blatantly looked me over again.
"Are you home alone?" he asked me.
That was my cue to say no and quickly close the door in his face. (He was still politely standing outside.) So did I say no and close the door?
"Um, yes," I admitted, just standing there.