Espied Pt. 06

She had got to do it, she knew she had.

Sal had a real wish to go beyond the end of the garden, not just creep into her neighbour's garden but go further afield. Indeed, into the fields and woods.

It had just so not been her plan to meet a group of ramblers. She had scouted her route out whilst clothed one morning: well clothed in a light cotton dress, though not actually anything else. She had stayed clothed most of the walk but had dared slip it off for one short stretch just 'to see what it felt like.' It had felt good. Her first attempt had gone like clockwork. She had been up with the lark slipping out of the door in her back wall dressed in just sandals and absolutely nothing else in the morning light and had made her whole two-mile circuit completely alone.

Her second outing was somewhat different. Again, an early rise, and again she had slipped from her garden door with the morning light only just appearing and even that seen through a film of vapour. There was a light mist that somewhat obscured everything and gave an other-worldly feel. And other worldly was a bit like Sal felt as she set off. As if it was another self, not really her, walking out naked. The sun had shone weakly, at least at first, through the obscuring mist with the trees down the path behind her house showing rather ghost like above her. Sal had stepped over the stile, loving the way it made her part her legs -- a feeling of exposure -- before walking across the field of standing wheat down the little path made by the few people who walked that way following a right of way.

In the midst of the field Sal felt wonderfully exposed. She could only go forwards or backwards and the path was so narrow meeting someone would have meant a real meeting, even a touching to pass. She could not even see the end of the field and, when she stopped and turned, could no longer see the stile. The photographer in her knew how wonderful the setting would be, preferably a shot taken a little distance from her, perhaps from the path or into the wheat: 'naked girl in the early morning mist.' It would have been admired at her photography club.

Sal knew if someone was coming towards her she could scamper back before really being seen: someone behind her would be more of a difficulty -- she would have to run on ahead in her sandals. But she had a feeling of being completely alone and she was. She walked on across the field and into the wood. There was less mist in the wood and the light a little stronger, but she could see the mist beyond the trees and it gave a certain enchantment to the scene as if the wood was a hidden secret place in a dream world. Sal walked on as happy as anything up the hill and out onto the high field. Crossing that she walked out above the mist and for a moment found herself with it around her ankles but herself above it as if she was walking on a cloud. Sal naked on a sea of white. A wonderful picture had she had her camera -- and a tripod to set it away from her. But even had she had a camera it was all too fleeting, and the mist flowed away leaving her exposed in the midst of the field -- but exposed to just a few cows watching her. Sal walked on and through the small wood beyond the field.

There were eight of them, five men, three women and there was nowhere for her to hide. Moments before she could have slipped into and under bracken, a couple of minutes earlier would have had advance warning by seeing them in the distance and could have disappeared into the wood: but at the point she met them she was hemmed in by brambles either side of the narrow path and, as the path turned, there they were -- and there she was.

As one they halted.

"It's a dare," Sal said. The words had not just come to her but had been what she had planned to say if she had come across someone. It had seemed unlikely, or so she had thought so early in the morning, but naturally she had thought about it. Of course, she had, because the risk of being seen had been part of the excitement of being out and about -- naked. It had been a risk but now it was reality. Sal felt a twinge, the same as she felt in her photography class when modelling, the same as when upon the beach, the same as when Paul and Chloe had looked at her. And the men, certainly, were looking at her.

She was engaged in conversation, perhaps more so by the men anxious to keep her with them so they could look at her closely -- and they did. She had to make up more about the dare. An imagined friend, waiting to see if she really did the deed.

"What is the bet -- how much?"

"I get to fuck her boyfriend." Sal said it to shock. It was so unlike her, not just the 'F' word but the whole idea -- Sal saying something to shock,

"Yes, well," said one of the women starting to move off but the others tarried. "Alone?" asked one of the women -- perhaps she found the idea arousing.

"Oh, no, I'm sure she will want to supervise. She is a terribly jealous sort and she tells me he's got an awfully big cock." Sal grinned. She was not just being exhibitionist with her body but her words. "And I'm looking forward to seeing that."

Sal pressed past the group trying to avoid scratching her buttocks on the brambles and walked on. She knew she was being watched but turned just for confirmation. She wondered if all the men were erect. It was rather nice thinking of the effect she could have.

To have a further person there on her trail seemed rather overdoing it. She had been completely on her own the other two times she had walked it. Not another soul had appeared. Perhaps it was not such a good choice of walk after all. The second time it was a horsewoman, high above her on a bay in jodhpurs and riding hat. They met as the path turned by another wood. The woman looked at Sal in surprise: the horse just looked at her.

"I rode my horse once naked as Lady Godiva around my circuit..." The woman said after a moment, "is this much the same?" There was an element of authority in her tone

Sal was looking up at the horsewoman. "Probably," she said, feeling so much under scrutiny "it rather depends why."

The woman smiled wryly, "It certainly left a wet patch on the saddle. Firm leather you know -- very firm."

Sal nodded, "The same reason then."

"Sexual. Makes one do odd things. You going back to someone special to... having warmed up a bit?"

"No."

"No? Hmmm seems a pity -- for you. My husband was waiting in the stable with something big for me! A fantasy of stable boys -- naked and erect!"

The thought gave Sal a pleasant tingle. She liked hearing what the woman said. "Sounds nice," she replied.

The contrast between the confident and properly dressed horsewoman and the idea of her leading her horse, naked, into its stable and finding a naked man there with 'something big' seemed surprising. Of course, how people appeared to their friends, colleagues or strangers and how they were with their sexual partners -- or indeed sexually on their own -- might well be a very different thing. What was Mr. Soames like in the bedroom or Mrs. Riley? She knew rather more about sweet little Chloe though she did not know what Chloe's friends knew about what she and Paul got up to. Was their naturism a secret, did they know Paul and she copulated in semi-public on the beach? Would this woman's friends imagine her doing such a thing in the stable?

"It was. You know, young lady, I might do the Lady Godiva again tomorrow. You have inspired me. I hope to see you walking then." She raised her eyebrows.

It was so much a command. Sal felt like saying, "Yes ma'am."

There was no one else on her morning walk. Sal slipped through her garden door and bolted it with a smile on her face. She wondered as she walked towards her house whether she was being captured by her neighbour's camera. Had it seen her slip out in the mist? A vague but clearly naked wraith?

Sal got back into her bed and had a pleasant time lying there playing with herself and thinking of her walk, recalling who she had met, the feel on her skin of clothes as she had brushed past those hikers and then meeting that woman on her horse.

The next morning found Sal again slipping outside in the dawn. Another naked escapade, another naked leaving of the safety of her garden, another walk through the wheat to the wood.

They met, horsewoman and naked walker almost at the place they had met before. This time Sal heard the horse. There was some risk it might be another person -- perhaps even the woman's husband but the likelihood was it was the woman again. It was, but whilst she still had the riding hat, the jodhpurs had certainly been dispensed with along with everything else and, unlike Lady Godiva her hair was not long enough to cover anything, indeed it was tucked up inside her hat.

A mature woman. Horse riding had no doubt helped to keep her stomach and thighs in trim. Men would no doubt have enjoyed the movement of her ample breasts as she rode towards Sal. They were certainly fine. Her thighs apart on the saddle and, of course rising and falling correctly as she rode. There was definitely something of the sexual in the way her sex left the leather saddle and then plumped down again. Sal could not see but wondered if the saddle was wet!

"Good morning, we meet on equal terms today!"

They did indeed. Sal had certainly made a point of being there, but she had not really expected the woman to be there and naked. The woman dismounted. As tall as Sal, fair haired and rather more substantial but clearly so in trim. They talked for a bit and then, "Do you ride?"

"I did ride as a little girl... a bit." Sal did not like to admit her shyness had caused her to stop. There had been too many people coming and going at the stables.

"Would you like...?"

The woman helped her up. No doubt in the process seeing rather more of Sal but that hardly mattered. They were both women, after all. They were soon quite intimate women when she joined Sal on the horse, sitting immediately behind her.

It gave such a different view. Being on a horse places you quite high up. They walked along, the woman's arms either side of Sal holding the reins. Sal could feel the woman's breasts pressed into her back. She could feel the woman's fur tickling her back, as well. They were seated, naturally, very close. Sal did not know if the woman was simply being friendly in giving her a ride or whether there was an ulterior motive in having Sal's body against her own.

"This would be a bit different if my husband was taking you for a ride."

"Why?" And no sooner had she said it than Sal realised it was pretty obvious what would be different.

"Because, my dear, you would feel something pretty hard and warm against your bottom."

"I suppose so."

"And if he set the horse to a trot probably something wet on your back don't you think."

"It's what men do." She had seen it with her neighbour and with Paul.

"Don't they! Would you like that?"

What was Sal letting herself in for -- if she was not careful. Would she like that -- almost certainly yes! The feel of the woman's body behind her was warm, the steady movement of the horse -- such a big animal -- was pleasing. The feel of a man's body, hard as men were both in body and...

"Have you... have you copulated on a horse?"

In her ear the woman breathed a 'yes.' Sal wondered about that as she was let down to continue her walk. Was the woman's husband going to meet her at the stable. Was he suitably dressed or undressed? Perhaps in boots but little else and his penis all hard.

What was the woman's husband like? Might the woman send him out another day to meet Sal? She imagined a tall and powerful man dressed in riding boots and hat but nothing else, trotting towards her with his muscular buttocks rising and falling from the saddle and his penis both raised and peeled. The photography could be exceptional. The thought of being pulled up onto the horse to ride to his front just a bit stimulating to Sal's increasingly fertile imagination.

"Morning Sal." It was her neighbour at the shops. "You are looking nice with your clothes on."

Sal swallowed and looked anxiously around. Nobody was close enough to have overheard, "And you," she said.

What a greeting, though, to be overheard by another shopper. What a thing to tell a friend: 'You can't guess what I overheard in the street.'

They talked for a bit and then her neighbour asked where she went in the early morning.

"What do you mean?"

"You go out of your garden and come back a lot later -- and you go naked."

He was certainly watching her. Perhaps there was a movement sensor which triggered his camera. It was intrusive but... but it excited her.

"I go for a walk. A morning stroll in the fields or woods."

"Can I come too?"

Sal shrugged her shoulders. "If you like, I suppose. Dawn tomorrow."

An assignation -- almost.

All was quiet as Sal stepped out of her house. Again, there was a mist with the sun only just making itself felt. She wondered whether her neighbour would be waiting for her or was it too early? Would he be clothed or naked like her? Sal liked the idea of being naked with someone clothed. She would quite like -- really -- to have joined the hiking group as a naked member. If she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that she would not have minded having her bottom patted as she walked or other liberties taking. The hikers taking advantage of her exposure.

He was there, not, as she had rather expected, naked, but fully clothed, not with light sandals but full brown brogues as if for serious walking; a rather nice green and yellow checked cotton shirt, fawn chinos neatly pressed and a green corduroy jacket. The contrast with Sal rather striking. It gave her one of her twinges. She had thought they would be walking naked together; perhaps his plan was to put his clothes into the bag he had with him later in the walk; she had rather been intending to photograph him with the camera slung over her shoulder, naked and hopefully erect in the middle of the corn field; if she could get the light right, coming over the stile with his genitalia hanging in silhouette; perhaps photograph him naked in the wood. Sal had rather thought there would be some form of sexual activity, perhaps just solo until they returned when he might again ask if he might eject his semen onto her body. She would agree.

"I thought," she said, "we were going for a walk together."

"Yes, yes. I have been looking forward to it. Shall we go?"

Sal stepped forward in the direction of the fields and the wood, the way that led past the back of a few houses before turning across the field. But the man reached out and took her hand.

"No, I thought we would go this way."

Sal's forehead wrinkled. She knew that was not the right way, it was a way past a lot of houses yet, yet there was something which made her turn and go with her neighbour. There was a certain clear decision in his voice, an impression of steely resolve closely sheathed in his apparently mild manner. Perhaps it was being out and about naked, perhaps it was being naked with a clothed man or else being told what to do but between her legs she could feel her sheath moistening and unfurling as he led her along the green lane in the opposite direction to the one she had intended to take. Sal looked at the backs of the gardens of the houses as they passed one and then several. All was quiet. This was a much more dangerous route -- the danger of being seen -- than the other way. The other way they would already be crossing the stile. Sal almost shivered at the thought of how exposed she would be to her neighbour had she climbed over. Perhaps he might have taken the liberty of touching her -- there, between her legs. He had not done that.

"Where are we going?" She knew, the lane eventually came out onto the main road leading into the town. She did not want to go this way - did she?

He smiled at her. "You'll see," he said gently. Again, his voice gentle but firm. She shivered, wordless.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"No, no, it's not really cold is it?" She smiled back at him and his concern. It was not, though, entirely true. The tops of her thighs were being slightly chilled by her sexual fluid cooling in the early morning as it trickled down. The extraordinary sensation caused her to walk unevenly, it was quite a feeling; he put his arm round her waist seemingly in case she stumbled or was it merely to touch her? The feeling of his corduroy jacket-sleeve as it slid across her naked back was strangely pleasing; bringing forth yet more moisture from her as faint early-morning traffic noises grew steadily louder.

Sal stopped. "It's the main road, "she whispered. It was unlikely -- so unlikely -- anyone would be out and about but the complete lack of air movement and the mist all around them made everything so quiet. Not even the birds seemed to be making a sound despite the developing light. "I can't, I won't walk along a road like this."

"You won't. Come on Sal, keep walking." His arm was around her waist urging her forward.

Ahead Sal could see a footpath sign in the mist pointing off the track. It became obvious to her they were going down that, it no doubt looping around in some way and back towards their houses. A new path, a new naked adventure. It was exciting. Would her neighbour now undress? Was this part of his own sexual excitement to hold off removing his clothes until really excited? Sal glanced down at his trousers. Was he already in possession of a hidden erection. She was looking forward to seeing that, it added to her wetness. She liked seeing penises -- her neighbour's, Paul's and the nude model at her club to say nothing of all those flaccid ones on the naturist beach. She had not realised how different they were. Would she hold it as they walked?

Her thoughts of penises -- erect and otherwise -- were broken by her neighbour completing ignoring the footpath turning. "I...I... what are we doing... I'm really not prepared to walk along a road. You can see the headlights..."

There were lorries and cars passing the end of the lane not one hundred yards away -- and closing as Sal was propelled forward.

"You are not walking along the road naked. Trust me."

Sal was shivering again but not from cold. The strange thought and anticipation of being caught naked in the headlights, exposed to big burly truckers and besuited business men on their way to work.

"Please..."

And then her neighbour removed his arm and began to undress. Surely not -- surely, they were not both going to stand at the side of the road and be seen. Her neighbour perhaps with an erection. It might cause an accident. Perhaps, perhaps they were just going to walk naked to the end of the lane, be seen by one or two lorries and cars and then come back and walk delightfully naked down the footpath in the mist. It was only his jacket he was taking off.

"Put this on."

It was the corduroy jacket and he took her camera and helped her into it.

"But I want to be naked -- naked with you." She said. He did not seem to be taking anything more off.

"I said you would not walk naked down the road and you won't be." A hand just under the back of her jacket patted and pushed her bottom cheeks. "Come on. Another fifty yards and we'll be there." He did not give her the camera back but put it in his bag.

Sal had to admit she was now 'clothed' -- after a fashion. The jacket was a three button 'straight' and she buttoned up all three. The hem of the garment was reasonably long on her, she felt, and she was pretty sure not even the curves at the bottom of her bottom cheeks would show -- unless she bent forward! She began to walk, doing what she was told.

"Oh -- ooh." It was a whisper but audible. The sudden feeling of the ribbed corduroy material rubbing over her nipples at the edges of her nipples, the material flicking against them as she walked was remarkably stimulating to an already excited girl.