While he greeted Greta, I stood two feet away with a clear view of his penis, eager for my first close up look. When I followed him through his yard, I watched his bare buttocks flexing as he walked in front of me, something even women with broader sexual experiences don’t witness.
We spent the next two hours sipping beverages, sweet tea for me and beer for him, while we talked sitting in chairs a foot apart. His nudity initiated or influenced most conversation topics. I mentioned my repressed sex life a few times to explain my lack of knowledge. Brett didn’t take advantage of my naïveté about sexual habits and attitudes; he was honest and informative without any hint of vulgarity or lewdness.
The first topic we explored began when I noticed his penis slapping against his thighs as he walked toward me bringing my sweet tea. I figured his length and lack of clothing to restrict movement made it an issue for him more than most men. I asked if it hurt. He said no; but the slapping sometimes felt stimulating, as did other things when he was naked.
In the process of describing what he felt, he used the word cock. I hadn’t heard that word in the company I formerly kept. I must have reacted in a way that he picked up on. He offered to use the word penis instead but I first countered by explaining how seldom I heard any sexual word spoken in my repressed past.
Then, after describing my husband’s small penis in comparison, I declared the word cock seemed worthy of his impressive member. Due to my desire to be more open about sexuality, cock wasn’t the only sexual term I began using in my speech that day.
I asked him to elaborate on the other things that aroused him when he was naked. He mentioned the warmth of the sun, the tickle of a breeze, and the flow of water over his cock when he swam. I tried to imagine similar sensations with my body.
When I pressed for more, he claimed those were mild stimulations and easily unnoticed. He admitted getting aroused the most when a woman obviously enjoys looking directly at his cock, even more so when she is willing to talk about it. I understood he hinted my direct interest in his cock aroused him.
Sitting alongside each other, I looked at his body and his cock more than his face, something I had no doubt he knew I was doing. I knew he was studying my body, too. Both actions were arousing me; my heart rate was up, my nipples were stiff, and my sex tingled.
At one point, I felt so emboldened by the sexual focus of our conversation that I questioned why talking about his cock hadn’t given him an erection. In response, he claimed he had started getting one twice already and might pop a boner at any moment.
I wanted him to develop an erection while I had a front row seat, so I blatantly stared and searched for the words about his exposed cock that would trigger one.
He acknowledged being more of an exhibitionist and I admitted discovering how much I enjoyed seeing his exposed cock. In his opinion, the human body is beautiful in its natural state and it is normal for like-minded people to enjoy nudity whether it’s casual or purposely sexual. That concept was contrary to my life-long beliefs; at the same time, I found his open nudity encouraging to my new interests.
From our discussion, I learned details about his past and his character that answered several of my questioning thoughts. He was from New York originally, which explained his hard, northern accent. Managing investments for himself and select others, he was able to live comfortably without working regular job hours. Without a specific figure mentioned, I gathered that his age was mid-thirties. He moved to Miami five years earlier for a climate more conducive to year-round nudist opportunities.
When I inquired about having a wife or girlfriend that condones his nudity, he chose to speak of a particular girlfriend, Mara, who started his life of exhibitionism. She initiated his pubic hair removal habit by shaving him one day and then showed off her handiwork at a party. Standing naked for a long period while women gathered to look and touch created sexual excitement that he has sought to repeat ever since. The encouraged exhibitions happened often; others joined the nudity, which sometimes led to group sex with Mara’s friends.
Brett admitted having numerous relationships after Mara left for Hollywood over a decade ago; a few became living together serious. All of the women knew of his nude habits, some of them from the first day like me, but none were as willing as Mara to share him sexually or even visually. Trying to end his public nudity led to conflicts that ended the relationships instead.
No current relationship had developed into cohabitation so that left the door open for me to experience whatever happens with him. My remaining concern was that my age would turn him off.
I was so intent on learning about his life that I failed to realize he might want to know as much about me for similar reasons. I had offered some life facts like my marriage, living in Atlanta, and my dance studio, but I led most conversations, keeping the focus on him without offering similar anecdotes about my social past. Because I mentioned a husband and admitted my sexual inexperience, he wanted to know my current marital status.
I found out later that since I no longer wore my wedding ring, he imagined I was either divorced or separated, and my relocation was to escape a bad marriage. He didn’t consider that I might be a widow because he so drastically under-estimated my age. Those assumptions were the driving factors in the discussion that shocked both of us with reality.
“Wouldn’t your husband be surprised to know you’re sitting casually with a naked man?”
“If he was alive, yeah. He died more than two years ago of a heart attack.”
Brett apologized for sounding insensitive because he didn’t know I lost my husband, in his words, “… at such a young age.”
His words startled me; then I surmised he didn’t know I was much older than I looked. I wasn’t going to let our conversation proceed on false pretenses. “Where did you get the idea he died young? He was fifty-eight, an obese diabetic with lots of health problems. We were married more than thirty years.”
Brett sat upright in surprise. “Thirty years? Then you must be in your fifties! That’s incredible! I thought you were twenty-something.” His eyes scanned my body from head to toe. “I still think you look like you’re thirty-five, tops.”
He studied my face, neck, and arms as I answered. “That’s very flattering. Yes, I’m fifty-six. Why did you think I look so young?”
“Well, everything about your appearance is youthful. Your skin has no wrinkles or age spots. Your muscle tone is that of a young athlete.”
I watched his eyes look at each body part as he described it, except he looked at my breasts and hips without comment. I wanted him to tell me more and was ready to discuss my sexuality with a man I just met.
“I’ve never had anyone comment about my appearance like that. I have old issues with how men look at me, and the lewd things they say. Your words make me feel admired and I really want to hear what you think of every part of me.”