During the mid-summer I moved from a very private house in the country to the suburbs of a big city two hours away to take advantage of a career opportunity. I had a bit of a problem finding a place as secluded as my former home. At my old house in the country I rarely wore clothes inside or out. The deck was private and the back yard was lined on all sides with big Arborvitae.
I enjoy reading Lit stories in the morning, nude on the deck with a cup of coffee and a smoke, weather permitting. On the weekends, any time of day, often with scotch replacing the coffee. Hell, I even picked up the morning paper nude. I get up early before it's light out so no one could see me walk down the dark driveway. Does all this make me a nudist? I guess so.
The country homes, with privacy, near the big city I was moving to were either very expensive or a 90-minute commute so I settled for the best thing I could find in a reasonable commuting distance: a rental three-bedroom house with a fairly private backyard.
Prior to renting, and again when I moved in, I looked carefully from all spots on the patio to determine if anyone could see. There was one window, two houses away, that I thought could see a few feet of the patio - where the back door was. I could see the window plainly from that spot and each time I looked the mini-blinds were closed; so I figured it was safe to sit naked on the patio away from the door. As insurance I kept a pair of old running shorts with me that had the liner cut out just in case I was wrong and had to cover-up quick. So here I am in a new neighborhood, with not quite, but almost privacy.
The summer weather was warm and I thoroughly enjoyed the rental house's back patio in the nude along with the triple stimulants of: coffee, caffeine and Lit stories on my iPad; with the occasional web foray to find images of women like those I was reading about. Even though I am very comfortable with nudity, there was a hint of danger resulting in stimulation, from sitting out naked not knowing for sure if I was being seen. After a few weeks, without any cops showing up to arrest me for Public Nudity, I figured either no one could see or no one cared. I was wrong on both counts.
There was more than one occasion, okay really almost daily, which the combination of those three stimulants caused my cock to swell to its full length and girth while reading a particularly juicy story. The hand not holding my iPad was usually engaged in self-enjoyment; stroking my cock, caressing my balls and touching my nipples. (Not all guys have sensitive nipples but mine are. I get as much enjoyment out of having them played with as the other parts.) A few times, things went a bit too far as I succumbed to the fantasy created by the story and shot a load of cum on my chest.
At the end of the first month I arrived home from work on a Friday evening looking forward to sitting out au naturel with a beer and cigar to unwind from a tough week at the new company. I was in the bedroom having just finished undressing and hanging up my suit and when the door bell rang. 'Uh oh', I thought; 'I'm not dressed, who could that be?' I threw on my "emergency running shorts", put my white shirt back on, tucked in the tails and rolled up the sleeves ignoring the front buttons. I really hadn't thought through that I might not make the best first impression if this was a neighbor, but I didn't know anyone here yet and the only people so far that rang my door bell were repair technicians. I figured it might be the sprinkler guy coming to check on its latest malfunction.
There at my door step stood a woman, holding a casserole in her oven-mitted hands. She was gorgeous! Brunette hair just past her ears with a few highlights, eyes you could get lost in with deep brown, lush eyebrows and long eye-lashes.
To her, I must have looked the epitome of the disheveled bachelor; which I was at the moment. Due to both my attire, or lack of it, and my mind racing back and forth faster than alternating electric current between - God she is beautiful ... and great first impression you idiot ... then wandering to ... what do I do now?
I was frozen like an ice sculpture as my mind raced and she looked down at my shorts and up to my face; giving me the once over. Then she smiled; melting me and brought me out of the AC loop. I was able to smile back and say, "Hello".
"Hi!" she said, "My name is Kim. I'm your neighbor two houses down" as she tilted her head in that direction and sort of pointed with the casserole towards where she lived. "This house was empty for a while after the Sharps moved out. I've seen you come and go and wanted to meet you so I made you lasagna."
"Hi Kim" I half-croaked, cleared my throat and continued, "I'm Trevor. How thoughtful! Thank you, please come in."
As she walked through the front door and entered the living room she said, "Let me just put this in the kitchen for now." She proceeded through the living room to the kitchen. She had either been here before (a good probability - maybe a friend of the Sharps) or noticed the kitchen through the living room.
"Great idea" I said following her. I was so discombobulated when I opened the door, and so stunned by the first impression her beauty made on me, that I hadn't really checked her out as she had me. Walking behind her I noticed a very fine figure. Her hips flared nicely from her waist, both of which had nearly perfect proportions and a really nice ass covered by a short, tan wrap-around skirt leading my eyes down to a pair of succulent thighs sitting on top of toned and shapely legs with sandals on her feet. I watched her sexy calf muscles as she moved and scanned up again to notice her top was a silky, very light, almost but not quite white, cream colored spaghetti strap top. All this happened in the time it took her to move just a few steps and in the remaining time it took her to reach the cook top I noticed there were no panty lines or indication of a bra. Call me naïve, but I just thought - it's Friday evening, it's hot and she's dressed comfortably.
"I'll just put it on top of the stove." She said placing the lasagna on the cook top and bent forward just a little, which probably wasn't necessary, pushing her gorgeous ass towards me.
Yup, no panty lines - my mind confirmed its earlier decision. "Oh that looks nice." I commented; letting her decide if I was talking about the casserole, her ass or both. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble. Let's put it in the oven so it stays warm. You can give your husband or boyfriend a call and have him come over and we can all enjoy it for dinner tonight while we all get to know each other."
"Is that an invitation to have dinner with you?" she said turning around and raising her voice and eyebrows at the end of her question in a coy sort of way.
"Yes, give him a call." I continued fishing to see if there was either one. "There's a phone here somewhere." With her back to the stove I was now able to get a better look at her front. WOW! It was all I could do not to stare. The no-bra call I made before was confirmed as I could just make out the dark circles of her areoles and prominent nipples straining under the thin silky top pushed out by a pair of nicely sized breasts.
"Then I accept." She answered. "And I won't need the phone as there is no boyfriend and my husband died three-years ago in a car accident."
Despondently I replied, "I am truly sorry for that Kim. My wife passed away five years ago, along with several co-workers, the result of a rare and dangerous virus strain that got loose in her lab at work. I can't say I know how you feel, but I know it's hard."
