Espied Pt. 01

The first step was the hardest. It was not as if she had not been on her landing naked, but she was not sure she had ever put her bare foot on the top step of the staircase much less begun to descend it with not a stitch on.

Approaching the French windows was not easy. What if someone could see her through the glass? But no one could because her house was not overlooked - unless there was a chink in her fencing. Sal imagined her neighbours looking, finding chinks in the fence or hedge. All of them looking in at her. The new neighbour on one side and Mr and Mrs Cousins on the other side. All of them watching. Well, it was none of their business and it wasn't as if she had something inappropriate like her neighbour's erection showing. Sal was simply in her birthday suit. As if to belie the innocence of what she was doing Sal felt her nipples getting harder and becoming pointed. She stared out into the garden through the glass and turned the key.

One step, two steps and Sal was naked outside. Trying to hide a rising panic Sal slowly walked straight down the garden. She was determined to walk the whole way, calmly, carefully as if it was something she did every day. Sal felt the house looking at her, looking at her bottom as if the blank windows of the house were eyes.

At first, she was in shade, almost hidden in the shade of the house. It would only be later in the afternoon the sun would heat the patio and turn it into a haven of warmth for the evening. The sun, as she stepped out of shadow, was hot on her back and on her bottom cheeks. Already she could feel the grass cool under her feet, feel her breasts bouncing gently, unrestrained by a brassiere, her nipples hot and hard in the shade of her own body. In a way it was no different from wearing a skirt, her thighs brushed together the same way except there was nothing between them at the top - no panties. Her sex was unhidden, unclothed and she could feel its freedom - worse she could feel her clit stirring and poking out of its sheath trying to find the sunshine. She was finding the whole experience exciting. Yes, naughty and sexually stimulating.

Sal was aware she was no different from her neighbour. She too was having an erection in the open air; her reaction no different: if much more personal and hidden. She was out in the open and wet, very wet and she could feel her clitoris growing. It was not something a photographer could see unless she lay down and opened her thighs and that was hardly an appropriate thing to do. Between her legs all was hidden but her standing nipples were a visual clue to her state of arousal and whilst she did not have the visual indicator of the aroused male, at least unless you looked very closely between her legs, if the human sense of smell was as strong as say a dog then her arousal would be as obvious to a male as her neighbour's erection.

At the bottom of the garden was a door; a door out into the green lane between the backs of the houses. There would be no one there. There virtually never was. It was a place where some homeowners dumped grass cuttings or sticks until time for a bonfire. Sal felt a strong desire to open the door and step naked out of her garden; out of the safety and into the unknown. The potential embarrassment of being caught both excited and appalled her.

Sal turned and looked back at her house. The windows stared at her blankly. What was she doing so far from the refuge of her house completely exposed? Not completely, if she was honest. There was something else she knew she had to do.

It was only a little way back up the path before the lawn. Sal's bare feet walked noiselessly on the crazy paving. The sun full on her breasts now, full on the crazy tangle of her pubic hair. Would it be better if she went inside and shaved all that off and came back like a little girl? Would it feel less naughty if she looked pre-pubescent - but how could she with full hips and swinging boobs? Or would the denuding of her pubis mean she was the more exposed?

The sun poured down and her house looked at her. Sal eased herself down onto the grass and then slowly she drew up her knees and opened them; opened her thighs, exposing her sex to the sun and the blank windows of the house; opening them as if making herself ready for sexual intercourse; revealing her own erection. She could feel her lips opening with her legs, the heat of the sun striking her sex and clit, she could feel herself a fully aroused woman - a woman ready to be taken. Sal held herself ready, her arms going out until she was spread-eagled, exposed and completely vulnerable. Had she been standing at a bedroom window with her camera she could have seen everything and photographed it all.

She knew then what she would do next. She would go into the house and set her camera up to take time release photographs down the garden - of herself - she just had to see.

The reality was worse, and it was all recorded. She could see the evidence as she sat that evening looking at her computer monitor and the photographs. She had, indeed, gone back into the house and set up her camera but it was not just a steady stream of photographs at fifteen second intervals of her naked in her garden, perhaps just wandering and adopting the odd pose or even of her splaying herself in a lewd fashion to the sun; rather they were photographs of her masturbating and coming in her own garden in the sunshine. You could see her fingers playing, see how very wet they were - the sunshine revealed so much; she could see them pushed into herself as if she was being penetrated by a penis - it was lucky she did not possess a dildo. They were not photographs to show anyone else.

Sal was amazed at what she had done and cross with herself, but there in colour and detail was the evidence and, with the ability of digital zoom, the close-up pictures were surprising in their clarity. Her clit engorged was just so reminiscent of her neighbour's tumescence. Zoomed in, it filled her screen and the way the sun caught it and made it shine just so perfectly revealing feminine wetness - the very thing she had wondered how to capture in a photograph - a lovely droplet of moisture just catching the sun and shining atop the little organ, almost as if she was ejaculating like she had seen her neighbour do. She knew it was erotic - a screen saver for a man - or a woman who liked women. Wet, juicy and ripe, ready to be plucked or sucked. Sal shook her head - what was she thinking?