Passing through a gap in a hedge, we walked up on a flat-topped, flood dike that looked like a grassy road separating our community from retention ponds and undeveloped land. He told me the raised berm was many blocks long, curving around the back edge of our subdivision. There weren’t formal access paths but it was public land and grassy for Greta, so he gave me permission to pass through his yard anytime I wanted.
Greta enjoyed being off leash and sniffing around bushes and Magnolia trees that dotted the berm’s slopes. Other than her scent interests, there was no visual evidence that anybody else walked on the berm, alone or with a dog. Despite apparent regular mowing, the grass in most places was ankle deep without trample indications.
I liked viewing the backside of homes and evaluating the functionality of the yards. I saw large patios setup for entertaining and children’s play structures. A large number of the homes had swimming pools enclosed by tall security fences but the raised berm allowed me to see over them.
I was surprised residents weren’t outside enjoying yard activities. It was a summer weekday morning so most adults were probably at work, but where were the kids, caretakers, or stay-at-home moms? Didn’t kids play outside anymore? If I had my own pool, I’d swim everyday instead of going to the health club or a crowded beach.
I was passing another backyard with a swimming pool when I saw a person lying on a lounge chair at the far end of the pool deck close to the house. Startled when I realized he was naked, I dashed behind a clump of bushes.
Uncertain about what I saw, I crept back to the edge of the bush where I could peek through the leaves. He hadn’t moved to cover himself; he was probably sleeping. I took advantage of his exposure to stare at his penis. It looked large despite the distance. Something else about him seemed unusual but I didn’t have time to think about it because I noticed Greta had wandered back into the open area we had just crossed. I slapped her leash against my thigh and she came to my side.
I led her away as I tried to collect my thoughts. What kind of person is comfortable being naked outdoors? Was he a nudist? Did I encroach on his privacy? He was outdoors and I was where I had a public right to be, but I felt I was improperly spying on him. I was afraid to pass his property again so a block away, I hurried between two houses back to the street and followed a roundabout path home.
That evening, I kept reliving in my mind the discovery of the naked man. My attitudes about the behavior of men had already begun to change. I wasn’t disgusted to have observed him unclothed outdoors; I was curious to learn why he chose to risk being seen in that state. When I went to bed, the image of his penis filled my head while I jammed my Wild Rabbit into me. My stubborn urges lead to powerful orgasms before I fell asleep.
I awoke the next morning uncertain if the day before had just been an erotic dream caused by my masturbation fantasies. I decided to walk the berm again to be sure. Would the naked man be there again? Would I get in trouble for looking over his privacy fence? Would my peeking discourage him from being naked in his own yard? If he wasn’t there, would I give up my crazy notion or keep walking past until I saw him again?
My heart was pounding as I approached the gap in shrubs behind his property, as if waiting for the curtain to open on a Broadway stage. I wasn’t disappointed. He was there again; lying on the chair like the day before; naked without a care. He didn’t react to me as I leisurely strolled by. I assumed he was sleeping, not that I could tell if his eyes were closed; to be honest, I only looked at his penis.
I realized what looked different; he had no pubic hair, making his penis stand out. His member appeared flaccid, pointed at his feet, yet already longer than my husband’s erection. Matthew’s penis was the only other penis I had ever seen both soft and hard. My husband more than doubled in length when erect; if this man grew proportionately that much, I imagined that such a monster would terrify me.
I was uncertain what I should do and forced myself to stay away for a few days as I wrestled with my conscience. Observing him naked caused strange excitement; but was looking at him the right thing to do? What might happen if the man or somebody else saw me? The widow back in my Atlanta neighborhood hid in her bathroom to watch yet she was found out; I had to stand out in the open to see this man.
Despite my worries about distasteful outcomes, irresistible desire to see his penis set my path for another look. As I walked by, my steps grew shorter and slower. Did I see his penis move? I stopped and watched for more movement. I jerked with surprise when his hand rose up and waved at me!
My second reaction was thinking I should run away and I looked to escape. Looking at him again, he wasn’t directing me to go away; his wave was friendly with a toothy smile. He wasn’t covering up either; I presumed he didn’t mind that I saw him naked. I could feel my face flush as I timidly waved back. Flustered and too embarrassed to stay, I left.
* * * * *
I called Molly, the only person I trusted to give me reasonable advice and not harsh judgment. “Molly, I need your advice about a man.”
“A man! Already? You’ve been down there, what, two months? You rock, Sweetie. What’s his name?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken with him yet. I’ve only seen him three times from a distance.”
“Well, what the hell do you need advice about?”
“He’s always naked.” I heard Molly shriek and cough violently.
“You made me choke on my wine! Naked three times? How did that happen? Where was he naked?”
“He was lying out by his backyard pool. Where I was walking Greta behind his property, I could see over his fence.”
“Oh, my God, Anna. Does he see you?”
“The first two times, he didn’t react. Today, he waved at me.”
“Waved? Like go away?”
“No, like … hello.”
“Well! … The man knows you’ve seen him and doesn’t mind. He is probably a nudist or maybe an exhibitionist. It’s hard to tell at this point. Either way, he seems friendly enough. What’s he look like? Are you attracted to him?”
“Well, I can’t tell much about him from that distance. He looks middle aged, quite a bit younger than me. He’s muscular, trim, and …” I paused, uncertain about saying it.
Molly demanded, “And what?”
“His penis looks bigger than my rabbit.” I heard her laugh then muffled speech. With whom was she sharing my experience? I guessed her husband, but I was shocked she divulged personal information about me to someone else.
“You certainly have changed your attitude toward men. The old you would have run away from him never to return. You went back; you must have wanted to see him naked again. This situation could go all kinds of ways. I believe you have discovered the excitement of voyeurism, which might lead to you becoming an exhibitionist yourself. They go hand-in-hand. This guy would be perfect for showing you the way. My advice is, play your cards right and you might end up being lovers, too.” She added with a giggle, “Just don’t blow it by calling the cops on him.”