Naked Summer


He stepped out of a cool shower on a hot day, opening the linen closet, he was left with no choice but a small towel. He laughed to himself that he'd passed up a folded and stacked pile on the dryer while strolling to the shower. He was visiting the Blue Ridge Mountains and was happy to vacation while house sitting a week for his aunt. His only responsibilities were checking the mail and occasionally watering indoor plants. He wanted to go swimming at a waterfall, maybe hear some local music, and people watch as this was his first time in the region.

Toweling himself down, he opened the bathroom window feeling the the thick humidity in the air. Licking his upper lip, he could taste the beads of sweat forming before he was completely dry. The towel was so small that he couldn't get it to stay around his hips, using it instead to wipe the condensation off the window then taking care of the bathroom mirror.

As he was savoring the idea of knowing that he could spend most of his inside time as nude as he wanted, a small rippling cloth structure caught his eye in the reflection of he mirror. He turned and saw from the window a 2 sided, white, topless tent in the next door neighbor's yard. There was forest behind most homes in the neighborhood and a wooden fence blocking any view on the other side of the white structure. From his protected view, he was excited to see a pair of sun-kissed bare legs stretched out beyond the tent. Was it a modest sun bather? Each knee lifted up one at a time staying parted, then slowly swinging legs together until knees touched. He saw a hand rest between the knees as they pressed together then the hand lifted back into the tent. For a minute, the legs were still but the feet and toes he could see flexing and wriggling. The knees then opened again and those legs looked wet and shiny. Could it be so hot in the sun that legs would drip sweat the way a chest or back might?

Initially, he couldn't tell if it was watching a woman or a man but saw strong legs, the kind that are shapely by genetics and sculpted by using them, regularly. Maybe there were shaved or perhaps, blond leg hair? He loved bodies, women's and men's. His mouth started to water when he thought of the scent of skin enhanced from soaking in the sun. He could practically taste the saltiness on a lover's skin when s/he was breathing heavy, moaning, and sucked in to the vortex of some sexual exploration while giving or receiving, or both.

Watching the legs glide together then apart reminded him of the good sex he'd had, knees spread open for his body to fit into, knees gripping on to him and pulling him closer, legs wrapped around his body, hands gently and roughly rubbing through his hair making their way to his neck and back, fingers touching and tugging at his chest and back hair. He loved having hands grab his muscular backside to pull him deeper into her..or him... remembering the barely touching, rubbing, and even scratching made his body hot for someone to touch and taste again. He never grew tired of the chemistry of 2 or more people together until all energy is lost and gained to each other. His left hand at his neck thinking back to a former lover who loved to suck and bite on his neck, pulling the skin of his neck between her teeth, screaming into his neck as she orgasmed. She'd also liked to tie him up and tease his body and mind until he begged her to fuck him. His other hand very consciously slid down to his balls while his thumb circled the tip of his uncut cock.

It had easily been a year since his last sexual encounter. He loved sex but had discovered in his 30+ years that some people were just turned on by the thrill of the chase, to fuck and be gone, even if they said otherwise. He'd much prefer an encounter with someone who knew and said upfront what they were looking for. In the last year, he had gotten practice asking since most people, women and men, were not taught to say what they really want. In fact, he'd been taught that the way you get what you want is to be as indirect as possible, as if adults couldn't handle the truth, his or their own. He wanted someone who he could have lots of sex with without having to navigate the intro, q and a time, and the std/i talk each time he felt like having some excellent sex. One night stands can be fun, but so can having someone who know the triggers and hot spots of your body. Also, being that he was uncircumcised he'd had to navigate men and women that had only been with someone who was circumcised. This was such an American problem. He made a mental note to find a way to teach a class on the satisfying stories of an uncut dick. His motivation was to increase his dating pool and network with guys and gals who were already interested in what he offered.

As he started to turn, thinking about getting under a fan and taking care of his hard on, the wind blew outside, and he could see the white fabric of the tent was only partially weighed down. At first he caught glimpses of a bare shoulder and a naked hip. Who ever was sun bathing was not just being modest, she or he was completely soaking up the sun, creating an opportunity to feel the sun every where. He smiled thinking about how he'd not yet seen a tan line on the body and understood why. He circled his fingers around the head of his penis sliding his hand to the base pulling the soft skin of his hard cock back, squeezing firmly, repeating. His balls getting tighter and closer to his body, he tried to replicate the feeling of vaginal walls pulsing around his cock. And he loved how it started, having just the tip of his cock in some one. Each second building the anticipation of what 2 people experience together, only knowing one side of it and reading the pleasures of the other, having his pleasures read by a willing and able participant.

What he wanted to do was walk out lean on the fence separating their yards and ask if he You just never knew what would happen...

When the next gust of wind played with the temporary tent, he saw her. Her jeweled hand on her own round breast, fingers creating a "v" that a hard nipple shown through. She squeezed her nipple between her fingers then saw her hand slide away, perhaps to the other another section of her hot body? The wind died down and put his spying on hold. He wondered if this had been 1,000 years ago, would he have sensed her 40 feet away? If she was in the same position, naked and baking in the sun, back flat against the earth, would social norms of some unspecified continent have allowed her that freedom of sensuality, of mobility? Would those same norms allow him to talk to her, to have her or court her or buy her...would he be expected to just take her, winning her like a decorative egg found on a Easter hunt? He was a free lance anthropologist, studying and researching the social science of cultures, past and present. Questions like these bubbled from his mind constantly. He would play with those scenarios later as consent is only necessary in reality.

Her legs made it appear as if she'd turned on her side.... He opened the curtains quietly, hoping to see more, wanting to slow down the sweat that was dripping down his lower back, feeling the same breeze that she did. For some reason she'd looked wet. Was it sweat from the time in the sun? But then her nipple wouldn't likely be hard., would being so hot out but she's touching herself.... Just then, her legs moved...

SHE was hot and wet...her skin was covered in a mix of sweat and ice cubes melted by the sun's will and her body's heat from the first round of soaking up sun. She wore a large straw gardening hat and nothing else. It made her smile to knowing that she was naked and touching herself in "public". Even though she was on private property, she was in a fairly urban neighborhood that denied her the privacy she craved for situations just like this. She was willing to take the chance justifying her behavior with the knowledge that it was mid afternoon and most of the people in the neighborhood were retired and hiding from the heat of the day inside. Even so, she'd put up a make shift tent so that she wouldn't draw attention, at least obvious attention.

She was ready to be iced down, again. She sat up and crossed her legs. She reached for a thermos of ice she'd been savvy enough to bring knowing how hot the sun would be. She'd used most of it already. Tipping the container back she poured two cubes in her mouth, transferring one to a hand and leaving the other in her mouth to suck on. Placing the container aside, she leaned back and propped her knees up to the sky, positioning the ice cube in between her knees to see how long she could keep it there. The ice transformed into drops of very cold water sliding to the back of her knees, to the back of her thighs, and finally, to her ass. It felt refreshing, and she thought the world could be much happier and significantly more peaceful place if the American masses spent their spare time testing out the simplicities of life instead of shopping, watching commercials, and fearing the unknown.

She held the position for as long as she could then took the ice cube and held it in her hand, letting it melt while drizzling cold droplets from her neck to her breasts and belly button then at last to her hips. As she moved the water that had settled on her body slid off along the sides of her, exciting her even further. She took the last of the now small piece of ice and slid it between her vaginal lips, holding it there to melt fully while the residual liquid glided to the crack of her ass and onto the beach blanket underneath her.

She really didn't like the word "vagina". It was so unsexy compared to what she had found to be so sexy about the abilities of her own body and that of other women. She was annoyed with the word's translation, meaning "sheath", as if it's only purpose and value was to hold a penis inside her. She was allergic to cats so the term "pussy" was funny to her, too. She probably used that term more often than not but always giggled when she said it. She thought the male terminology and slang just as silly, but it didn't stop her from appreciating the actuality of male sexuality.

The adamant desire to have pleasure where she could required her to move past the nonsense of the English language. Her career was not, yet, set in stone, but she'd compiled a series of work, volunteer, and extra-curricular activities that some folks who reach 100 years old will never have the joy of. She'd spent about 6 years working in some form of human services coaching other people about having their collective needs met while being undervalued economically to do so. She knew her experiences were of value to her and those she worked with but she'd acknowledged that her ultimate job is to sustain herself. She'd started working with florists and gardeners a couple of years ago. The money wasn't any better, but her body felt good from being worked out. She'd vowed to herself a life that she felt valued in, experimenting with plans the way some experiment with finger nail color. Her goal was to maximize her pleasure and joy in what ever form she was so inclined. This was another season for her world to shift again.

On the tips of her fingers she could feel the slickness of her own silky moisture mixed with water. If felt a lot like the liquid that gushed from her when she had intense orgasms or when she was riding a cock or strap-on that was rubbing and pushing against her g-spot.

She remembered the first time she used a strap-on with the last woman she'd fucked. The arrangement was casual sex only as this woman was already partnered up and in a open relationship. She wasn't accustomed to fucking women fast and hard from the beginning, but that is exactly what her lover wanted. She more she slammed into her lover the more her clit was stimulated by the strap-on. She'd lost count of the number of times she came while riding that lush beautiful woman. The next time she'd asked a man to give it to her harder, she was rewarded with the same treatment she'd given out.

She considered putting on her yearly wish list a threesome with a man and woman. The first threesome she'd had was in her early 20s, and now that she was in her early 30s it seemed far too long since the last. She really wanted to be fucked by a man from behind while she fucked a woman, as well. The thought made her so hot that she groaned out loud. She rolled over onto her stomach feeling the solid earth beneath her, pushing up toward her as much as she pressed down. In this moment, she was really a fan of gravity. By slightly swinging her hips side to side, she felt her swollen pussy lips squeeze her clitoris. There was a growing throbbing in her clit that matched her pulse. She wondered if she wanted to take on fully masturbating in the back yard or take it inside. She could be louder inside and move her body in all the ways she liked. Or she could live easy and enjoy herself where she was at. She decided to scope out her surroundings but was leaning very very heavily toward satisfying herself where she was at. She took off her hat and slid a finger under the tent cloth. As she peeked underneath, her eyes focused on the neighbor's house looking precisely in the direction of the man watching her and stroking himself.

HE had been thoroughly enjoying the teasing flashes of the woman's body lounged outside. She'd turned over and was moving in ways that made him wonder if she was wanting what he wanted. Suddenly, a finger lifted the cloth. He was confronted by sweet lips and bright eyes glancing up at him in the window. He'd been watching her upper thighs, how her muscles moved with her, imagining that she'd feel soft and strong in every position he put her in. He was on the verge of coming hard but was stunned catch the eye of such a cute face finding him in a very exposed situation.

He jumped back, finding his ass pressed up against the bathroom counter, cock still in his hand. He was too close to stop and even though society told him his behavior was very bad he couldn't help but feel very good about finishing. With that thought, he stroked himself hard and firm until hot come laced his chest and stomach. Panting as he recovered some of the senses he'd forgotten were important until now, he wondered what the woman who saw him would do. Would she call the police? Call his aunt? Yell at him through the open window? He stepped back into the shower to rinse off the sweat, and come that was running down his body. As he finished he heard the door bell ring. The police? A proselytizing representative of some religion? He didn't know but had an intuitive feeling he couldn't avoid it. He'd forgotten to grab a clean full sized towel for the 2nd time and ran past the dryer to retrieve one. He yelled, "I'm coming" and found a pair of shorts to toss on before opening the front door. The irony of what he'd just yelled was not lost on him. On the front step stood the woman he'd been watching next door. She was in a short sundress, skin glistening with a thermos in her hand and a smirk on her face. She said, "I live next door, and I seem to have run out of ice." He smiled back and said, "I would love to help you with that and...anything else you'd like".

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