Encounters of bare skin: First contact

Ever since I exposed myself – by loosing myself in the moment of lust – to my neighbour as he had once unwittingly exposed himself to me, I seem to have discovered a slight exhibitionist side in me. I say slight, because I am still conflicted about what it is. Please, allow me to explain. I have never been a prude, nor shy about showing my body. In the right social setting, that is. Like a sauna for instance. I take pleasure in a (willingly) nude body, and I see being naked as a natural state. I really don't mind being nude and I do not get the fuss some people make about seeing (or being) nude, nor why they are offended by nudity: it is a nature intended. That said, it also is none of your business if I happen to prefer being naked. Yes, as you may have noticed, I am a believer of the feminist idea that one's body is one's own and nobody else's. So, to return to the question I asked myself: was I an exhibitionist? Or simply a naturist? You decide. Summarized, I started walking around in skimpy outfits and these will be reduced even more the more we reach the present day, but we will come to that.

The weather forecast was sunny, sunny, sunny and I needed a new bikini. I remembered the thong bikinis I saw last year and the nice tanned buttocks of those that wear them. In a spur of the moment I bought a set. I admit – reflecting – that my feelings for (not not mention my recent actions towards) my nude neighbour were an important factor. So I bought a more revealing bikini, not so small as to be microscopic, but still smaller than my usual. I was thrilled when the parcel delivery guy rang, I hastily opened the door, he had put the parcel down and stepped back so I could take it (the Covid virus has changed a lot). He asked my name and I confirmed. With that I had my new bikini. I closed my door, and I tried it on: the top, bottom. I examined myself in the mirror: the sides of my boobs were exposed, all that was covered was a broad strip centred on my nipples. Don't laugh, I know there are much, much smaller, bikinis out there, but for me this was a huge step. The bikini bottom was a thong which met little resistance as it slid neatly between my buttocks. The front was a small triangle which covered the sensitive parts, but also asked for some trimming of my bush: my pubic hairs came out of the top and to the side. I admit, I did not tend to that area very well: having no prospect of someone actually seeing that area I had neglected it. So I took off my newly acquired bikini. I put shaving cream on the pubic hair. The hairs felt small and coarse under my hands. I applied it on my labia and was rewarded with a small pleasurable tingling. I sat on the toilet, spread my legs and brought my lady-shave down on the hairs. The razor blade slid over my body. I rinsed the blade and reapplied, and with each stroke there was less hair. I took extra care around my pussy, spreading my legs further by gently pulling with my other hand. Soon, my pussy was pink and glistering from the shaving and the water. I looked at it as the tingling continued and as my fingers gently spread my labia I saw that my clit was slightly enlarged. I dried, and put on my my new bikini.

I realize I have not yet given a description of myself, well here it is. I have no illusions about my beauty; I am no model, nor am I ashamed to admit it, just regular looking with moles, scars, freckles (due to my auburn hair) and all. But I am aware of my body and I exercise regularly. I mind my food, try to avoid stress (and mostly miserably fail at that), and I try to have sex (and fail at that too, thanks to Covid). I need to put in an effort, so whenever a model, who has been in labour, is on her feet a few weeks later looking as if she never has had a child and proclaims that it 'all settled naturally' and 'without effort' I go ballistic. Let me tell you one thing: you have to work for it, they have to work for it too. There really is no need to feel less than those lying wenches, they have to work for their looks too. I do jogging exercises and cycling just to stay in shape. I am not a large woman, and I think my b-cup breasts are in proportion to the rest of my body. My legs are tanned and toned, my arms equally so. Just to be clear: I have no overly athletic figure, so no abs. But here I stood, in my new daring bikini viewing myself in the bathroom mirror. I kept it on, determined to put my new outfit to good use, and catch some afternoon sun I walked onto the balcony when I saw him.

He stood on his balcony, looking up at my window. The timing on this man was impeccable, just now when I was wearing my new bikini. He had seen me and looked startled for a moment, as if he was daydreaming – hopefully of me – before he noticed me. I couldn't see if he was entirely nude, he stood to close to the opaque railing, leaning on the balustrade with both his arms. Hesitantly, he raised his hand in a greeting. His shoulders were a bit crouched, his smile shy: I liked him more that very moment. I returned the wave, but I also still felt that naughtiness I had had a few moments before. I smiled mischievously and twirled my finger round in a circle, indicating that he should turn round. His smiled grew wider and more open. He let go of the railing and turned round...but he still stood too close to that darn barrier that separated my line of sight from anything below his stomach. He raised his hands tot he height of his shoulders, in something I interpreted as a mock 'see, I can do tricks very well' gesture. I placed my hand in my sides, and looked cross at him, albeit with a smile. I pointed at him, and gestured with my hand that he should do a step backwards by making a small hop with my hand. He nodded, looked at me, lifted his hand to his chest and mimicked that I should grab something chest height and lift it up: He wanted me to remove my bikini top and see my tits. I could not blame him for trying, after all I wanted to see his entire body.

I smiled at him, and before I was fully conscious of it I felt my hands slide over my body. I hooked my hands under my new top, I breathed nervously for a moment, and in one movement undid myself from it, exposing my breasts to the sun, a soft, cool breeze, and his eyes. I looked at him, he was transfixed eyeing me. I waited briefly, bend over and pulled down my bottom, raised it towards him and waved it round. I placed my hands on my hips, I stood nude but since he was looking up to the fourth floor it was only suggestive since my abdomen and legs were behind the same opaque balustrade. I decided to tease him a bit, so before he had time to act I raised my hands rubbed them over my chest, landing on my tits, slowly stroking them, softly kneading them. I felt my nipples become erect once again. I raised my hands further, lifted my hair and let it drop again, smiling at him. Then, I nodded towards him with a smile. He signed with his hand 'hot' and blew at his hand as if to cool it. He stepped back, as I had requested earlier, and turned round slowly. I saw his glorious bum. Slowly he turned further, I saw his half stiff cock, and his smile. From the corner of my eye I also saw his neighbour looking up at me, his mouth slightly open. I smiled at my nudist friend, blew him a kiss, waved and laid down to get some sun, nice and naked wondering why I had bothered with a bikini in the first place.



 

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