My Nude Day Pledge Disaster

The water flowed into the tub as I adjusted the temp, kicked off my sandals, and stepped in. I usually shower, but with all the excitement today, I felt the need to soak a few minutes to be sure I removed all the evidence. The pizza was coming, so I didn't want to take too long. After 20 minutes, I began to get antsy, did a final vigorous scrub, stepped out of the tub and into the shower to rinse off and wash my hair. I grabbed a towel and dripping water, left wet footprints on the carpeted stairs going down to the living room.

"Like Venus rising from the pond." Doug looked at the dining room clock and continued. "Less than a half-hour, that's short for you but good for me. Moon Dog said 45 minutes to an hour when I ordered. You have your Nude Day pledge, but I'll have time for a quick shower and be back down to get the pizza. I love how you look dripping wet." And he dashed up the stairs.

I'd patted some of the water off, but took Doug's comment as a suggestion and tossed the towel on the sofa in front of the window. I looked out the windows to see how Jennifer could view our bedroom above and realized she merely had to stand anywhere in her parking lot and get an explicit show.

I stepped around the end of the sofa to see the angled view up our street to Dan's apartment. It wasn't as straightforward a view as Jennifer had, there were the palm trees in the way, but thinking how we'd placed our bed, yeah, he definitely had a chance. Jennifer could accidentally see into our bedroom, but Dan had to deliberately look. Then I remembered his binocular comment, the little pervert.

I looked around to find other viewing locations but was startled by the Moon Dog delivery van, a distinctively painted vehicle, turning onto Cabasa. Oh shit. I walked to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up to Doug, "Honey, the pizza's here."

He didn't hear me, and the van pulled to a stop in front of the house. I didn't have time to get Doug out of the shower anyway. I saw the driver get out. He looked barely old enough to drive to me, but their commercial insurance requires drivers to be at least 18, so he wasn't too young. I wanted the pizza and had no interest in scaring any youthful drivers. I was disappointed I'd have to break my nudity pledge and wear the towel, but I was hungry, famished. I picked the towel up, wrapped it around me, and went down the stairs. I had to be careful walking barefoot on the tiled hallway, my hair still dripped water, and I left some small puddles.

I turned the corner to head for the front door. I remembered I had to pay for the pizza, but the card was upstairs. I was going to turn around and get the card, but the doorbell rang, so I opened the door. The pizza aroma filled my nostrils and made my stomach growl.

"The pizza smells great. I'm sorry, it's been a rough day, and we weren't expecting you for another 15 or 20 minutes. I just got out of the shower and ran down here. The card's upstairs." I made a ditzy face and pointed both my index fingers straight up, trying to indicate, you know, upstairs. "Can you give me the pizza? I'll take it upstairs, get the card and get right back down to pay. It'll save me a lot of time and effort."

"Sorry, Ma'am, I can't do that. I'm new here and have clear instructions the pie isn't allowed out of my delivery bag until payment is received. I was told we've had problems with people taking the pies and running away and not paying." He was a couple of inches shorter than me and was staring at my towel-wrapped chest. He was cute, though, so I didn't mind, and I was hungry and wanted pizza.

"Okay, then. I don't see how I could escape anywhere with your pizza, but I understand, rules are rules. Come on in, and I'll go up and get the card." I held the door open and pushed back against the wall to give him space to walk past, which he did.

"Yes, ma'am. Rules are rules, the bedrock of our civilization." Okay, whatever. I was hungry and wanted pizza.

The hallway was a few inches wider than the front door, and the only place with enough space to let me pass by him and get to the stairs was the 90-degree corner where the hallway turns to the stairs. "I think you're going to have to stand right there in the corner so I can get by to go upstairs. Can you do that?"

"Yes, ma'am, stand in the corner here." He tried a few combinations of his body and the pizza bag to allow me room to easily pass, but his training must not have included rules for such things.

I think his attention on my breasts may have contributed to his increasingly futile efforts. Unusual for me, I wasn't interested in playing any teasing games. I was hungry and wanted to get the pizza upstairs. "Okay, then. What's your name? Mine's Ruby."

"Robert, ma'am, but everyone calls me Bob."

"Good to meet you, Bob. If I may offer a suggestion, please stand with your back in the corner and hold the pizza bag close-in, up at chest level. I should be able to get through underneath."

"Like this, ma'am?"

"That should get the job done, Bob. Thanks."

I should have faced the wall across from Bob, putting my back to him, and side-steped past him. I didn't want to seem rude and decided the only way to get past was to face him and raise my arms above the level of the pizza bag, like walking through a chest-deep stream and keeping your rifle dry. I'd never done it myself, only seen it in movies. Anyway. I started to slowly get by him, and I thought I was in the clear. Maybe I misjudged, or perhaps he moved, I don't know.

I'm a lefty and wrap a towel around my body with the loose end of the towel down my right side, and it caught on the edge of the pizza bag. When it started to slip, I knew with my arms raised, the only way to avoid exposure would be some frantic lowering of my arms and knocking the pizza bag to the floor in chaos. I had no choice but to calmly let the towel fall to the floor.

I hadn't considered Bob's focused attention to my breasts gave him warning of the impending disaster. Rather than calmly letting it drop and getting a view of my breasts and more, he tried to grab the towel with his right hand to pin it in place to keep it from falling. He wasn't quick enough to catch the towel, but I was stationary, and he grabbed me. Or, more precisely, my left boob.

I was surprised when he made contact but not as surprised as Bob. He probably didn't have much experience around breasts, and he'd packed some momentum behind his hand. He squeezed against my tit and pushed me back against the wall. The strap around Bob's neck kept the pizza bag from falling to the floor but kept it awkwardly in the space between us. Bob flailed in a vast, uncoordinated arc and, when he saw me falling back to the wall, tried to bring his left hand up to my right arm to steady me. He ended up pushing me off balance to my left, and I reactively moved my feet to regain balance.

I was successful for a few seconds and said, "Okay, Bob. Please, just stand up, keep the pizza safe and back up as far as you can." Since this was a rule-based instruction, he did it. If only he could have stopped there.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am. I don't understand what happened. Please, let me get the towel for you."

I could see what would happen but couldn't stop him. He held the pizza to his left and bent down to get the towel. There wasn't enough room, and before he'd lowered six inches, he pushed the pizza bag into my right hip and pushed me off balance again. I moved my feet to steady myself but hit one of the water puddles from my dripping hair, and my right foot slipped out on the tiles. My back was against the wall and provided some support, but I couldn't stand back up with one wobbly leg.

I brought my right foot back under me, but I couldn't get enough grip to push up because of the water. I was going down, and it was only a matter of where I'd land. First, I had to stop further efforts from Bob, and I must have sounded rude when I yelled, "Bob, stand the fuck up and don't move a fucking muscle." Clear instructions, immediate response, I needed to remember that.

As I spoke, my right foot slipped, and I fell to the left. All I could do was lift my right leg over my left, brace my sliding left shoulder against the wall as best I could, plant my right foot, and push up to slide my left foot under my body and closer to the stairs. I was still falling but close enough to the handrail by the stairs, and I reached out with my right hand, grabbed the lowest part of it, and tried to pull myself to the right. I landed square to the stairs with my feet close enough that my knees landed on the first stair tread. I didn't have enough arm strength to stop my fall and could only cushion the impact by bending my hips. My head landed softly on the third stair tread.

I was on my knees, my legs spread wide, my ass in the air, my head down, and my breasts hanging. I could see around my left thigh, and it looked like Bob wanted to come over and help me up. "I hear you moving, Bob, please don't move. Stand still. I'm fine, nothing's damaged. Don't move, don't say anything. I need to catch my breath."

My hair had fallen over my face. Although I could see into the well-lit hallway, from Bob's perspective my dark hair looked to cover my face and eyes. He acted as if I couldn't see him. It took a moment to focus and get used to the unusual view, but I could see his gaze was firmly on my spread-open crotch. I also saw where his straining cock pushed against the left side of his jeans. A couple of minutes ago, I only wanted pizza for lunch, but now, through no plan of mine, I found myself in a compromising, nude position and found it exciting.

I exaggerated my breathing, faster and shallower. "I'm sorry, Bob. I'm feeling a little lightheaded. It'll take longer to catch my breath. I don't want to stand up and pass out. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No, ma'am, I wouldn't. You sure there's nothing I can do?"

"Thank you so much, Bob, but no, nothing. Just let me be. You must have a busy schedule, so if you need to make other deliveries and come back, go ahead."

"No, ma'am, I was here early, ahead of schedule. If you don't mind, I'll wait to make sure you're alright."

"You're such a gentleman, Bob, thank you. I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. I'm never crude; I'm always prim and lady-like. I hope you can forgive me." I almost wet my pants, except I wasn't wearing any.

"That's alright, ma'am. It was a stressful situation."

His cock was forcefully straining at his pants, and he was trying to relieve the pressure by rocking his pelvis side to side. I didn't have pants to keep everything covered, and if Bob knew what he was looking at, he would see my clit enlarging and poking out between my labia. I felt a rivulet of moisture streaming down my lips and gathering on the tip of my clit.

"Why, yes, it was stressful. I'm glad you understand. And thank you so much for helping me when I started to fall. Your prompt attention averted a catastrophe, I'm sure."

"You're welcome. I was trying to be helpful, Ruby." The first time he addressed me by name. He was getting comfortable, and my nipples, harder.

"You were helpful, Bob, very helpful." He held the pizza bag with his left arm and started tentatively rubbing his bulge with his right. "I'm bashful to say this, but your firm touch when you tried to catch the towel was reassuring. Your actions show you to be a man with experience."

"That's kind of you to say. I thought I might have pushed you over."

"Oh fiddlesticks, Bob. My feet slipped, is all. I thought I was a goner and would have been without your gentle, reassuring touch. Your reassuring touch on my delicate... I'm too embarrassed to say it, Bob."

"Ruby, please feel comfortable to say anything you want. I'm sure I've heard it all before."

"I do feel so relaxed and comfortable around you, Bob. Thank you again. I was going to say I would have been a goner without your reassuring touch on my soft, delicate breast. It was reassuring and pleasant, delightful."

"I'm happy you were reassured, Ruby." His rubbing had progressed from tentative to intense.

He realized his predicament. His cock was tucked down in his pants. It was probably getting painful couldn't free it to enlarge or rub the proper place. He had to decide if he should correct the problem.

"May I ask you a most personal question, Bob?"

"I've already said you may say anything you wish. Please go ahead." His hand stopped for a moment, and I thought I needed to reassure him of his privacy.

"My breathing feels better, but I still feel lightheaded and will have to stay very still for some more minutes. Please tell me if you have to leave." He actually looked at his watch.

"I'm way ahead of schedule. Take your time." I achieved my desired effect, and he reached for the button at the top of his fly. Luckily, he wasn't wearing a belt.

"I'm so glad you can stay with me while I catch my breath. It feels good to have a strong man with me now. What I wanted to ask, Bob is intimate, but I have to know. When you accidentally touched my breast to provide needed reassurance, did you find it pleasant? I mean, was I too soft and saggy? I'm an older woman, and I'm sure I don't look and feel like all of your many girlfriends."

His hesitation was gone. He unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down all the way. "Your breast was wonderful to touch, perfect in fact."

"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad to hear you say so. I'm insecure, and you're so strong and reassuring. Thank you." He put his right hand flat against his stomach. Wiggling his fingertips past the elastic band of his boxers, he pulled his cock up and out of his pants.

I heard Doug upstairs and had to speak louder so he'd be quiet and not come down any further. "I have to ask you this, Bob. It's important to me. I know my breast felt pleasant to you. Did you see both of my breasts when you touched me before I fell down?"

A quiet, "Yes." I could see his cock, big and long enough to do the job, short enough not to hurt. My mother used to tell me a man's cock had to be long enough to reach his body. That's good advice.

"Were they attractive? Did you like looking at them?" He pushed his hand into his boxers, pressed the heel of his palm into the base of his cock.

"Yes, Ruby, I liked looking at them very much. They're beautiful."

"Oh, Bob. Thank you so much. I feel so much better. I would never say such a thing as I'm going to, Bob, but you make me feel comfortable, and I won't be embarrassed. Saying my breasts are beautiful and you like looking at them makes me excited. Do you know what I mean, Bob?" He was pushing against the lower shaft of his cock for all he was worth.

"I think so, Ruby."

"I want to be clear and honest with you, so we both understand what I'm saying. When I said you looking at my breasts makes me excited, I mean specifically, sexually excited. Do you understand, Bob?"

"Yes, I thought and hoped that's what you meant."

"You're such a gentleman, Bob, but so worldly too. You wouldn't embarrass me in this delicate position and being lightheaded and all, but it would be so important and special to me to know you might have looked at me since I fell here on the stairs. Have you?" I was surprised he hadn't come yet; he oozed stamina and would soon ooze something else.

"Yes, just for a second. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Bob, I don't mind you looking at me. It's reassuring you respect me as you have, but please look if you like. I said I was sexually excited by your touch, can you tell the signs of excitement with an older woman like me?"

"I'm not sure, exactly."

"Would you like me to show you those signs, using my body as an example?"

He whispered, "I'd like that."

"Wonderful, Bob. Please step closer so you can get a good look."

He took two small, tentative steps and was standing three feet from my cunt. I could still see his hand pushing on his cock and was amazed he hadn't blown yet.

I moved my right hand under my body and touched my cunt. "This is my pussy, Bob. Are you looking at it?"

"Yes."

"I have two ways to tell I'm sexually excited. One is fluid flows from my pussy like this." I pointed my finger at the little streams of moisture flowing along my labia and to my clit. "Can you see it?"

"Yes."

"The second is my clitoris, I call it my clit, gets hard and stands up like a tiny penis." I pointed to my clit. "Can you see it?"

"Yes."

"I'm so glad I could show you how excited you make me, Bob. I feel vulnerable and need more reassurance. Do you find my pussy and clit exciting, sexually exciting?"

"Yes, I do, very much."

"Bob, this would help me so much. If I show you what I do for my sexual excitement, would you tell me what you do? Don't be embarrassed. You're such a gentleman you couldn't possibly offend me."

"Yes, I'll try."

"Oh, Bob. That makes me feel so good. Are you looking at my pussy?"

"Yes."

"For me, it is straightforward. Talking with you has made me so excited all I have to do is put my finger in my pussy to get it lubricated, like this, and then I rub my finger on my clit like this." I rubbed my clit for Bob. It was exciting, but I'd had so many orgasms already today I'd need my magic wand to come. I was trying to make Bob come.

"Do you enjoy what you see, Bob?"

"Yes."

"When you are at home, Bob, alone in your bed at night, what do you do when you are sexually excited? Please tell me so I can dream of it when I do this."

"I like to push hard on the base of my penis with my thumb and use my fingers to push lightly on my testicles. Sometimes I stroke up and down too. A combination."

"What you do sounds exciting, Bob. I wish I could let you touch me, but I can't. I hope you understand. What I could do, though, is let you touch your cock and balls and stroke them if you like. I still feel lightheaded and don't want to risk moving yet, and I hope you don't find me too crude for talking about your cock and balls. I'm sure I would find them as wonderful as you say you find my pussy and breasts. Would you do it for me, touch yourself and tell me about it?"

"I don't think so. I'm too embarrassed."

"Oh, Bob. I understand. Are you still looking at my pussy, and do you like it?"

"Yes, I like looking at your pussy."

"I'm sure you do, Bob. You're a strong, virile young man, and you like looking at pussy, my pussy. I'll bet you can think of something for me to do that would make you feel more excited."

"Yes, Ruby, there is something I would like to see you do."

"Oh, Bob, you sound so sure, so strong. I'd love to do it for you, but first, you know what you have to do, don't you? It wasn't a question, Bob. Take your cock out and tell me what you're doing. Then you can make a request." He balanced the pizza bag with the strap around his neck and his stomach. He spread his legs further apart.

"Okay, Ruby. I've unzipped my jeans and pulled them down to my hips."

"Bob, that's so exciting to hear. Is your cock hard yet?"

"Yes, it's hard. I've put my right hand around the base of my cock, and I'm squeezing, pulling the skin of my penis tight. It feels terrific."

"I'm so proud of you, Bob. You've kept up your end of the deal. What do you want me to do?"

He whispered, "I want to see you put your finger in your asshole."

Oh my god, he picked one of my favorite things. "Oh, Bob. You're so nasty; never use a word like that. You're such a naughty boy, and I'm a delicate, proper woman, Bob. I've never done anything like that before. I don't think I can. I'm feeling more lightheaded and can't move."

"I'm sorry, Ruby. I do feel naughty and ashamed for asking. Please, forget I asked."

"Oh, Bob, you're so sweet, such a gentleman, so kind and strong, yet willing to admit to naughtiness. Sometimes I do think of naughty things, and maybe I could do it. I don't know, this would be the first time, and only for you, Bob. Are you still playing with yourself?"