In an effort to stimulate a bit of interaction or even reaction, here’s a revisit to a true story I posted on the old site.
Today, here is Surrey, we had snow – didn’t last long, didn’t settle but considering last week I was still in short sleeves, it just shows how variable the Great British Weather can be. Another extreme was the long hot summer of 1976 and this is where the following takes place.
In my previous posting, I told how my cousin Tam stripped me nude at a summer party – the details can be found here:
Without warning, he had stripped all my clothes off but we were interrupted. This is a few weeks later, as the searing heat of the summer continued with no sign of rain. I was in my late teens, slim and athletic (being an avid swimmer) and lived at home with my Mum & Dad and elder brother – Dad and my brother were always out at work and my Mum worked part-time for the local county council. One morning, she was heading off to work and knocked on my bedroom door before she left. “Tam is here! Don’t stay in that stinky bedroom all day! Get outside!”
Mum had no idea I was planning just that.
My cousin didn’t have a happy home-life so spent a lot of time at our house. As I heard the front-door slam shut, I bounded downstairs. Tam looked confused – I was wearing my old school rugby kit, old, long, hand-me-down football socks where the elastic had long-since perished, and trainers. “Mum said we should go outside so maybe we can play football in the garden?” Tam shrugged and agreed and we ventured out into the garden, not before Tam & I had had a swig of whisky from the booze cabinet. I hated the taste but wanted a bit of Dutch Courage for what I had planned.
Out in the morning sunshine, the garden spread before us. It was a long garden and we had an apple tree and a plum tree at the end which served as great goal-posts. Tam
In an effort to stimulate a bit of interaction or even reaction, here’s a revisit to a true story I posted on the old site.
Today, here is Surrey, we had snow – didn’t last long, didn’t settle but considering last week I was still in short sleeves, it just shows how variable the Great British Weather can be. Another extreme was the long hot summer of 1976 and this is where the following takes place.
In my previous posting, I told how my cousin Tam stripped me nude at a summer party – the details can be found here:
Without warning, he had stripped all my clothes off but we were interrupted. This is a few weeks later, as the searing heat of the summer continued with no sign of rain. I was in my late teens, slim and athletic (being an avid swimmer) and lived at home with my Mum & Dad and elder brother – Dad and my brother were always out at work and my Mum worked part-time for the local county council. One morning, she was heading off to work and knocked on my bedroom door before she left. “Tam is here! Don’t stay in that stinky bedroom all day! Get outside!”
Mum had no idea I was planning just that.
My cousin didn’t have a happy home-life so spent a lot of time at our house. As I heard the front-door slam shut, I bounded downstairs. Tam looked confused – I was wearing my old school rugby kit, old, long, hand-me-down football socks where the elastic had long-since perished, and trainers. “Mum said we should go outside so maybe we can play football in the garden?” Tam shrugged and agreed and we ventured out into the garden, not before Tam & I had had a swig of whisky from the booze cabinet. I hated the taste but wanted a bit of Dutch Courage for what I had planned.
Out in the morning sunshine, the garden spread before us. It was a long garden and we had an apple tree and a plum tree at the end which served as great goal-posts. Tam looked down at my trainers and said the laces were undone. “Don’t worry,” I teased, “they’re not staying on for long.” Tam looked even more confused as I kicked the ball down the garden. “I’ll go in goal,” I said, already getting turned on at what was going to happen next.
Looking back at the house as I took my place between the trees, we had two neighbours overlooking our garden – to the right were a young couple who never seemed to be home, and to the left were an old couple, with their cherry tree hanging over the fence. If either of the neighbours were inclined, they could see us playing what initially looked like an innocent game of football. It wasn’t going to be innocent for long.
So we started playing, Tam firing the ball past me as I dived to try and make dynamic saves, rolling in the dry, brown dirt that was our garden which hadn’t seen a drop of rain in months.
We played for about half an hour, laughing nosily, and, as I got hotter and sweatier, I started the slow striptease. As I stretched to stop the football, my loose trainer shot off and I made no effort to go an retrieve it. A few minutes later, the same thing happened and my other trainer shot off. I think maybe Tam was starting to get the idea. He kicked the ball again and again, making me stretch and inevitably my socks slowly started to slip off, down my to my ankles and then off – I kicked the socks away, now barefoot.
The neighbours still wouldn’t have been too concerned if they’d looked out and seen us but may have been a bit alarmed as I tugged my rugby shirt over my head, my hair plastered on my forehead, and tossed it high into the air. I was now just in my shorts but Tam had no idea I wasn’t wearing any underwear.
The game continued and I made more diving saves, resulting in the draw-string that held my shorts up becoming loose and undone. Eventually, after a couple of minutes, my shorts started to slip off. Tam had fired a ball which ended up in the bushes at the very end of the garden. I went to retrieve it, my back to Tam. I wiggled my hips as I went to collect the ball and my shorts were finally loose enough to fall off, slipping over my erection, and I wiggled some more so they slipped over my hips and down to the dirty floor. I was now joyfully and completely naked in sweet suburbia, the sun blazing down. I turned and faced Tam – his eyes were as big as saucers. We carried on the pretence of playing football for a few more minutes, with me making more diving saves but now totally nude. I was filthy dirty – dusty bare feet, dirty legs, muddy bare bottom and my torso streaked with sweaty smears of dirt. It felt so naughty and even primal.
“Let’s go indoors,” Tam said huskily and I sauntered down the garden, entering the backroom through the open patio doors, glancing back at all my clothes scattered around the garden which was even more arousing. Once inside, we “played” some more, but with no interruptions this time. As I’ve said, Tam never took his clothes off but relished stripping my clothes off, or seeing me take my clothes off until I was nude, the classic CMNM scenario.
As we sat on the sofa, twenty minutes later, not too many words were spoken, just my heavy-breathing as I recovered from our “playing”. Eventually Tam said that I needed to go and collect my discarded clothes from the garden, and I started to go upstairs to get some different clothes. Tam stopped me. “No. I want you to stay bare,” he commanded and so, willingly, I ventured out again into the garden, still nude, and made my way to the bottom of the garden where I crouched down and picked up my clothes, looking back to Tam as he stood watching me, a wide grin on his face. With my clothes in hand, I went back to the house, stepping into the backroom, not completely sure that I hadn’t seen the net-curtain twitch in the upstairs bedroom of our elderly neighbours.
Fun though this was, the real risk as ever was what if the neighbours had looked out of their windows and seen me stripping my clothes off? This kind of thing simply didn’t happen in Surrey. In 1976? It just didn’t. The repercussions would have been unimaginable, with punishments, being grounded, allowances being stopped and more. The shame and embarrassment the household would have been subject to would have been long-lasting, with rumours and gossip spreading round the neighbourhood. If the neighbours did see anything, they never mentioned it but I did catch merry hell from Mum when she got home and saw how much dirt was in the backroom, on the carpet and on the sofa, deposited as I’d writhed in orgasmic pleasure at Tam’s hands.
.