Years ago, when I was still living with Mom and Dad, while they were at work I used to strip naked and run around the house. By "around the house" I mean literally around the house. As in, outside. By "run", I guess I mean more of an alternating creep and mad dash.
I started and finished my circuit on the back porch. On the porch I was relatively sheltered, even though it was not enclosed. The carport (not a garage: covered, but not enclosed) felt equally protective. But then came the front and side of the house, an expanse of thirty or forty yards, half the house's circumference, in which the only cover was shrubbery at the front porch (about halfway across). I suppose for safety's sake I could have unlocked the front door to give myself an emergency entrance, but somehow that never occurred to me until I was in front of it. As it happened, this long stretch also faced the house's closest approach to a street. In crossing it, I was wholly exposed, irrevocably committed. Anybody could have driven by, could have easily come within line of sight before I could conceal myself. The feeling was... indescribable. Exhilarating.
By the time I reached the back porch again from the other side, the combination of relief and arousal was intense, and irresistible. I had to masturbate right that minute. Naked. Outdoors. In full view of not just a street, but the main highway.
I haven't been many places where I dared masturbate outside in the open air.
But the circumstances were right. We lived in a small town, and on the outskirts of it at that. Realistically, the chances of being seen were vanishingly small. Ours was one of the first houses in the subdivision: the neighborhood was very sparsely populated. The back porch faced a major state highway, but at a distance of a couple of hundred yards: Anybody driving by would have had to know what to look for, and stop to look, in order to see me.
I wish I dared do the same thing at my current home. I've never circled the house naked: It's far too risky. The north side of the house is barely passable, the fence is so close to the house. If the area is overgrown, it isn't navigable. And some of those vines at the back corner of the house have been poison ivy in the past, and may still be. We're only ten feet from the house next door, and less than twenty-five from the street, a very busy thoroughfare--much busier than the quiet country road my parents live on. I live in the heart of a major city.
But I've been talking about more than circling the house, what about...
There was this one time, on the front porch. It was very late at night. I was still clothed in the tee shirt and shorts I wore as pajamas (I actually prefer to be naked-but I couldn't justify the risk), on a warm summer night, with the lights out, behind the railing and hedges that have since been removed.
Now, in the back yard, with the lights out, at 2am (at which hour I am often awake), it is possible to be completely naked, unobserved. Not that I wouldn't prefer having fences on all three sides. I'm not stupid: I have no intention of getting caught.
I don't go outside often at night--as I said, I live in the heart of a major city--but at that hour, the shadows of the back yard are awfully inviting.
Typically, it'll be very late at night, 1 a.m. or later. I'll turn off the inside and outside lights, to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness and for better concealment. Otherwise, the opening door creates a twinkle of light more likely to attract attention.
I ease the door open and slip out, closing it behind me. I stand on the concrete pad behind the back door, in my pajamas. My night vision was never great, and it's gotten worse lately, so I wait to be sure. I listen to the wind through the trees.
I slip my shorts off and lay them on the door jamb. My nightshirts are so large that I'm still pretty well covered.
Minutes pass. There's no sound but the wind. Infrequently a car passes by on the street, on the other side of the house. A stray headlight flickers across the driveway. Sometimes, if I've timed it right, I hear a sound I never heard in my small hometown: the moan of a distant train whistle. It's very evocative. Not too distant: If I listen hard, I can hear (or I imagine I can hear) the clicking of wheels on the tracks.
Eventually, once I'm satisfied I'm safely alone, I slip my shirt off and it joins my shorts. I stand on the concrete pad completely naked. Nude in the midnight breeze. I never get tired of this. I want to leave the pad and walk out in the yard. It's probably safe enough to wander into the grass, but... If I stand by the house, I only have to keep watch in one direction. I sigh and stay put.
At this point I sometimes wonder if, one of these days, someone on the way to the bathroom might notice that the back door is unlocked. What if while I'm standing there naked as a jaybird in the breeze, I hear the door *click* behind me?
Well, startling as that sound would be, it wouldn't be catastrophic. I have a spare house key. And, remember, I didn't leave my clothes inside. (Do I look like an idiot? Well, I'm naked in my back yard at 2am, maybe I do.) But there is still an extremely small possibility that whoever is locking the door might open it and check the back yard before doing so.
I have no idea what I would say.
I take one step forward, so that when I come, it will fall on the grassy dirt and be absorbed. Is semen a good fertilizer?
And then I begin. Fear of discovery makes it take longer than it ever does indoors. Sporadically my eyes close for long seconds at a time as I am overcome with the sensation--before renewed awareness of my situation forces them reluctantly back open.
Indescribable.
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