Well, now β where do I start?
I'm not used to doing anything like this. By which I mean sitting down and writing down my thoughts and feelings. Or, come to that, sitting here naked writing down my thoughts and feelings.
Because that's what I am β naked β and that's why I'm trying to take some deep breaths and focus on the words. I'm experimenting, you see, trying something new and daring. It's 5.30 in the morning here and the rest of the house is asleep β pretty obviously given how I'm dressed and the fact that 'the rest of the house' comprises by husband and my eighteen year old son.
Other than experimenting with something new and daring, it does beg the question of why I would take such a risk and to be honest, I haven't a clue why I'm doing it. I thought it might give me a thrill, sitting here nude with my robe over there in the doorway, every creak of the floors upstairs sending a thrill coursing through my body. And it does β far more than I even dared hope for.
Mike, my husband, will no doubt be asleep until around nine, as this is his day off, but Adam, my son, will need to be up by around half-seven to get himself together enough to get off to college. Okay, so I should be safe enough for another hour or two, but it doesn't change the fact that I am totally naked here and the guys are just a few feet away β vertically β without a clue.
I know from the pillow talk that sometimes gets us purring that Mike would love what I'm doing, and get a real kick out of the risk I'm taking. But Adam? Well there you have it really. He is the risk in so many ways. He's been peeking β or trying to β for a few years now, but if he ever saw me like this, I think he'd explode. Not that I actually want him to. See me that is, or explode for that matter. But just knowing that if a small grenade went off under his bed and he charged downstairs he might just catch me... well, it gives me a little thrill if truth be told.
It's not just the risk, though, that makes this such a thrill. I don't know if you've ever walked around your house naked but it feels so weird and wild. I'm typing this in our living room at the rear of the house and it's dark outside β I can't see if there's anyone out there looking in at this naked lady, sitting typing. I know that the chances of that actually happening are next to zero β the back of the house looks out on a small copse of trees that border a local golf course, and keen or not, very few golfers ever play before it's light β but it still feels so daring, and I feel so exposed.
I have been seen before during daylight hours β twice in the seven years we've lived here, and only ever topless β by golfers whose drives must have been sliced horribly to end up so deep amongst the trees. Not that they were complaining after locating their missing balls and getting a very brief peek at a local half-naked housewife, I imagine β but neither occasion was deliberate. Even though I'm typing this completely naked, take it from me that I'm too shy to deliberately let any passing golfer see anything untoward. I will, however, admit to 'just happening' to be in the kitchen at the front of the house wearing just rather flimsy undies a couple of times when I was fairly sure that a young businessman β a former neighbour β might be wandering past on his way to work. A rough patch in an otherwise happy marriage, or possibly an early sign of latent horniness.
5.50 now and every minute that passes makes me feel ever more exposed and, I have to admit, rather more aroused than I imagined I might be after this amount of time. There's still ages to go before there's any real danger and I'm starting to think that's just as well. The urge to please β pleasure β myself is getting stronger by the second and let's face it, I can do it, can't I? Ooh, I can, it seems β that was a slight pause as I let my hands caress β the right word β my bare breasts and then slide down my belly to a very warm, very wet part of me. I can even call it my pussy out for you since this is now definitely 'me time'.
The typing is becoming a tad disjointed now as playing is taking on a more distinct role. I'm not really fantasising or anything β just being here, being naked and playing with myself is enough. I have sensitive breasts β tits (I do like that word no matter that it's not supposed to be a 'feminine' way of referring to them) β and just cupping their weight in my hands, my thumbs rubbing across my rigid nipples β oh it's such a delight. And leaning back in this little chair, my fingers probing my wetness and heat. That's a form of heaven.
Exposure like this is constantly thrilling me in new and wilder ways. I know my tits have been seen before by those who really shouldn't, but all of me? My pussy? Never. And it's not just that I have nothing on below my waist β any woman can sit with knees touching, naked, and shows nothing really β but I'm constantly leaning back and spreading my thighs, exposing the hot, pink centre of me. I don't want to be caught like this β but I do want to be in danger of being caught like it.
Still only 6.10 (my typing really is slowing down) and I'm just getting hotter and hotter. The floorboards upstairs keep creaking as they settle and warp with the temperature changes, and every noise sends my pulse sky-rocketing. I was tugging gently on a nipple when that last creak came and my fingers tightened involuntarily, and I gasped with the thrill it sent though my naked form. My belly muscles pulsed and brought me ever close to climax.
And here I am, fingering hard and frequently now, suddenly sure that I am going to do something I've never done before in this house: I'm going to bring myself to orgasm with both the guys here in the building, while I sit here naked, trying not to whimper too loudly. I'm having to leave a good thirty seconds or more between every sentence I type and the feeling of pure decadence is growing with every minute. Every nerve ending is tingling, even the breaths that I take are sending shivers of real pleasure through my veins.
I don't reach climax easily β never have β but sitting here in this dark, silent house (give or take a little creak), I just know that it's going to happen soon and it won't matter that I take an age to finish because there's no one to interrupt. It's luxury mixed with liberal doses of daring and thrills. My heart beat is pounding loud and fast, I'm sweating despite wearing absolutely nothing, I'm using a little cushion to muffle the increasingly loud moans that I can't help but make, and the first little bucks and twitches are fluttering deep in my belly.
A double first, this will be β because I know it must be now β the first time I've ever climaxed like this and the first time I've ever thought to write down my thoughts as I get closer and closer. Both of those things are hot on their own, but together... oh what a combination! I almost β almost wish...
Oh god that last creak was very loud...
[this section was edited later to make it legible]
I think I should stop β that wasn't just the house settling β that was a footstep up there.
Bit of a problem and hard to type. Started really shaking. Tried to get up to get robe but belly fluttering like mad...
Another creak and this is trouble...
Oh fuck...
Can I write that? And what the fuck does it matter? I'm too close...
That wasn't just a flutter, it's starting. And that was a definite creak caused by a foot...
Oh my god this can't be happening...
It's from the back of the house. It's Adam...
I thought I had so long. Got to get robe...
Oh dear patience! Can't get up. Can't stop it...
Stairs! Oh my fucking god... that was a spasm... deep...
Oh god he's going to... I can't... oh...