Beginnings Ch. 01

Crispin's eyes widened, "You really mean it?"

I nodded, "Not that Gareth idiot, but yeah, okay. And you will owe me big time, yes?"

"Holy fuck, thank you! Tim then. Will you show Tim your tits for me?"

I laughed then, and that gorgeous cock deep inside me muddied the waters further, "Tim it is. And if we're going to pass this off as my 'new' nudism habit he might have to see me completely naked. You okay with that?"

"Oh my god! Yes!"

I laughed, starting to ride his happily engorged cock. This was going to be fun...

I'm not a complete idiot - honest - and at least I milked the next few days for all they were worth. I would mention my forthcoming exposure whenever I wanted Crispin to get hard, and no matter how many days passed, it seemed to be simplicity itself to make it happen. And of course, I considered it myself, deemed it not to be a real risk anyway, just a chance happening, and brief at that. Tim was a good enough kid anyway, the same age as my boy and one who'd been a close friend of his for many a year. In my slightly naughtier moments, I liked to be noticed anyway - although never before quite so exposed - so it wasn't too much of a big deal, all things considered.

Of course, the day had to come and Crispin and I had happily rehearsed the whole 'accident' thing - with many a 'fuck break' - until we were both sure we could make it look like a pure chance event. Our plan was much simpler than all the rehearsing called for really, but who can resist that sort of fun? Tim occasionally called around for my son and they would wander off together to do whatever teenage males find to do - something I never asked too much about - but we planned it so that the next time it happened, Crispin would 'forget' something like his keys and would come back to the house after fifteen minutes, where he and Tim would walk in to find me dusting the top shelf of the bookcase on a step ladder - naked. Panic would ensue, my discarded (and rarely worn) robe would be found by my son and I would slip it on in front of them if they were still both there. I would then sit them down and explain my 'new' hobby and ask for silence and respect...

Good enough plan, I thought.

Well the day arrived and I kept myself scarce while the guys were preparing to leave, suddenly rather nervous and equally suddenly rather averse to being in the same room as Tim despite - or maybe because of - what was to happen a quarter of an hour after they left. For a few minutes I was left wondering whether they would even go out at all and my mind was a maelstrom of confusion over whether an aborted plan was better or whether I really would prefer everything to go ahead. I know now that I had a chance right there and then to put an end to things before they started - I could have breezed in to the kitchen where they were chatting away and suggested a meal, or I could have just grabbed my car keys and ran out. But I didn't. And I rather think that part of me wanted it all to happen as planned.

At just past eleven o'clock on that Saturday morning all such opportunities disappeared with the slamming of the front door. My heart lurched as the true enormity of what I was about to do made itself felt, but somehow I made my way downstairs and into our large living room where the step ladder had already been leant against what was to become the 'offending' book case.

I drew a deep breath to steady my nerves and made myself remember just how well my Crispin had made me feel - and how often - especially when the subject of my exposure to Tim had been raised. The memory of countless orgasms worked wonderfully well, and within a couple of minutes I had shucked off the robe I was wearing and hung it on the back of the door. Another minute and the step ladder was in place with duster and polish perched on the top step.

It's worth mentioning that our house is an old Victorian thing - big rooms, high ceilings, heavy doors and windows, and bestrewn with furniture of the age. The book case was a perfect fit for the building but was, to coin a phrase (not), a bugger to keep clean. When I took my position near the top of the steps I would be seriously elevated - a ruse to make my descent slower and therefore the visibility longer and better.

It would be what my son so clearly wanted and I focused on that as the minutes ticked by. On twelve minutes past the slam I picked my way carefully up the steps hoping against hope that the dampness at my groin would not be visible.

I'm lithe enough still to be able to twist freely and I sat on the top of the steps facing the open door to the hall, the duster and polish now to my left on the top of the bookcase. My heart-rate was accelerating with every second that passed but it wasn't just my nervousness that was increasing. My nipples had hardened to the density of little bullets and wave after wave of ripples coursed through my belly as my mind kept drifting back to the feel of my Crispin inside me.

It was muffled voices that drew me back into reality and I had to grasp the top of the bookcase for balance as I heard the front doormat being lifted as Crispin searched for the spare key. With the living room door wide open I couldn't even see my robe on the back of it and my nervousness rose to something close to panic as I looked down at my naked body. For the briefest seconds I wondered if I dare take the plunge down the steps and sprint for the cover of the kitchen but all thoughts of escape flew from my head as the front door opened and the voices became suddenly much louder.

"I said I was sorry," Crispin was saying, "But mum said she was going out later and knowing her she'd have taken the spare key with her. We'd have been stuck out there."

"There won't be another bus for an hour, though," Tim was moaning.

"Look, I'll get my keys and make you a coffee before we leave, okay? Just go through to the living room and sit down and shut up with the moaning."

Through the haze of my nerves I remembered my cue just in time, "Crispin! What the hell are you doing back here? Christ, don't come in!"

For once in my life, the timing was perfect. My frantic plea for extended privacy was too late, of course - but it had been heard and my cover story would be sound. And I was going to need that as Tim hesitated at the doorway, but already with one foot in the room. His friendly 'Hi' died on his lips as he saw me perched at the summit of the step ladder. As he saw my bared breasts, my naked snatch.

As I squealed and tried to use the tiny duster to cover anything i could, he swore under his breath and called to my son. "Chris! I mean wow."

With one hand now covering my groin and the other holding the duster over one breast, I managed, "Tim! God I'm sorry. My robe's on the back of the door - get Crispin to fetch it for me?"

My son appeared at his friend's shoulder and peered up at me. For a second I thought he was going to forget his lines me he managed to swallow hard and whistled, "Shit, mum! Sorry! I forgot all about your nudist thing!"

"Didn't you just! I told you I was going to be practicing while you were out! Now just... get my frigging robe."

Crispin, grinning, pushed past the slack-jawed, gawping Tim and reached behind the door, taking his no-doubt deliberate time to free the garment. "I told you she was a cutie, didn't I?"

"Crispin! Tim's embarrassed enough as it is." Somehow I managed to face my son's friend, acutely aware of the very faint breeze caressing my one exposed breast, "I'm really, sorry, Tim. I obviously didn't expect you back here for ages."

"It's okay, Mrs. H, honest!"

"I'm not so sure about that, but thank you for being understanding. Now, Crispin, get that frigging robe here, now."

My son pulled the garment free and walked up to the step ladder, his face a mask of rolling-eyed delight and I almost whimpered when his eyes flashed a promise directly to my scarcely covered pussy. My nerves had vanished entirely and I was almost looking forward to the next and final stage of the act when I was to take the robe and clamber down the steps, failing to cover myself properly, until, at the bottom, I could shrug into the robe and turn to face my son and his friend. Something very dark and naughty grabbed at my libido and I decided without forethought to provide my son with a small bonus, a few seconds more exposure in front of his friend. Rather than wait for him to hold the robe up to me, I dropped the duster and, my breasts both bared now, I reached down to take it from his hand.

Excitement, not nerves, washed through me as Crispin choked back a gasp of delight, and behind him his friend whistled in appreciation. I fumbled the robe for a moment and then looked across at Tim, beginning to smile another - apparently embarrassed - apology.

And that's when the director tore up the script.

As my eyes alighted on my son's friend, the robe not yet covering my naked breasts, I caught site of something I really should have expected after Crispin's behaviour around me all those months ago. Despite Tim's relatively heavy attire, blue jeans to be exact, his excitement was evident in more than his flushed face. Tim was making no effort to hide the large tent he was forming as he looked at my nakedness and the thought crashed through my already overheated brain: It was me doing that, my nudity, my exposure.

My brain went numb and my fingers clearly followed. The robe slipped from my tenuous grip and I gasped as the reality of the situation started to hit home - hard. I reacted as anyone would, though, snatching at the thin air as the garment fell away from me. Snatched and stretched lower.

Too low.

With an all too real and very much unrehearsed yelp, I realised that I had reached down far too much and my balanced was lost. I grabbed at the sides of the ladder with both hands, even as I started to topple forward. Somewhere in the fraction of a second I had to think about anything, from deep in the depths of my active mind I realised that I was once more fully exposed to my son's friend, and my perverse libido felt a thrill even as the sofa rose to meet me,

Crispin later told me that my clattering fall was elegant despite everything - and he certainly appreciated how I bounced from the soft cushions directly onto my slightly less cushioned rear end. I came to rest with my legs splayed wide, my arms bearing my weight behind my back, and with a second loud yelp - this one of surprise - echoing from my wide-open, shocked mouth.

Excited or otherwise - and it was mainly the former - I was in no fit state to immediately cover up and I just sat there, naked, not four feet in front of my son's friend, my breasts still quivering from the tumble, my womanhood spread wide for his eager eyes.

There was stunned silence for a few seconds as we all came to terms with what had happened - and in two cases, at the very least, with what was now on show.

It was Crispin's genuinely worried words that brought me somewhere closer to my senses. "Mum! Shit, mum, are you okay?" He knelt beside me.

I turned my head to face him, otherwise not moving a muscle, "I think so," I said slowly, "But frig it, Cris, look at me! What must poor Tim think?"

We both looked back to where Tim was still gawping with apparent shocked happiness. Our attentions got through to him though and he tore his eyes reluctantly from my naked thighs to my face, pausing only to get another good look at my bare breasts. "I'm okay, Mrs H, but are you? That was quite a slip."

"I think so," I said again, "Just help me get sat back on the sofa for a minute, will you two?"

If I had thought for a moment that they might be too intimidated to dare help me stand or settle back onto the soft cushions I would have been kidding myself. Before I could even so much as hint once again I needed assistance, there were hand on both of my arms and my heart began to seriously pound once more as I realised just how close Tim was to me now - how close he was to my totally naked body. I gave my son a roll-eyed smile, still smarting from my tumble, and I tried to tell him with my look that he was on serious bonus time now. Somehow he let me know he understood as I was lowered onto the sofa.

"Shall I... shall I get that thing for bruises?" he managed.

"Witch-hazel," I told him, "Yes, please. And some cotton wool. They're both in the bathroom next to my room." Our eyes locked as he sought permission to leave me alone, naked, with his friend for a few moments, "Go on, hurry up - but don't do anything as stupid as me and lose balance, okay?"

He nodded something which would have been verbally along the lines of 'sjagasasakk' but was obviously intended as a massive 'thank you' and he started to dash from the room before slowing to something that, were he to keep it up, would leave me in that alone, naked state with Tim for a good few minutes. If 'good' was the right word.

As soon as he was out of sight, my mind started to settle into a less cartwheel-oriented state, but the latent excitement showed no signs of abating. From somewhere, and despite myself, I found a laugh, self-deprecating but not without a hint of the normally sure-footed woman I genuinely am. Tim was understandably nervous.

"Look, Tim," I started, trying to ignore the double-meaning that could be taken as, "I'm truly sorry you got to see all of that... all of this, even," I glanced down at my nakedness, "I really never had any intention of embarrassing you. Or me, come to that."

He managed a tight smile, his eyes seemingly magnetised by my nipples. Perhaps they really were hard as iron. "It's okay, Mrs H, and I guess it should be me apologising for staring."

"I can hardly blame a teenage male for that under the circumstances," I told him, meaning it and trying not to let my body thrill at this new naughtiness, "But I'm sure there are plenty of better sights out there for you to see."

"Yeah, right!"

I ignored the scornful tone as best I could, "Hey, that's very sweet of you but-"

The normal mouse-like Tim was suddenly pushed into the background, "I'm not being 'sweet' as you call it! I don't know what Chris has ever told you about me, but I don't exactly have much success with girls so seeing a ddg-woman like you is way off my scale of 'better sights'!"

My heart was trembling in my chest, "Are you serious? And what the hell is a ddg-woman?"

"Yes, unfortunately, and it's short for what you are - drop-dead gorgeous."

"Now that is sweet," he could probably hear my heart thumping away by then, and I was seriously starting to wonder just what my addled brain was beginning to think, "And, well, I guess I'm sorry for that thing about you and girls and maybe less - maybe less - sorry that you got to catch me like this, then." Which was, I realised, true.

"I'd better get your robe," he muttered, apparently ignoring my words. He started to rise.

"I think, under the circumstances, that it's a bit late for that, don't you?" And when he settled back beside me, I added, "On the condition that no one - no one at all - outside of this room ever hears about this. If they ever do and I find out, I promise you I will be wearing your balls for earrings inside a week, got it?"

The threat - clearly meant but somehow light enough to his ears - seemed to rock him out of his darkening mood, "Of course. And thank you. I mean thank you for letting me see you for a few more minutes because... well, because you really are the ddg-woman."

"Oh shush," I managed a smile, "I bet you say that to all the girls you catch naked up step ladders!"

He returned the grin for a few moments before he suddenly shook his head, "I really think I'd better get your robe, as much as I don't want to lose sight of you now."

"It's okay," I told him, sure that I knew his reasoning, "Things can be both attractive to your eye and sexually provocative at the same time. I don't mind if you're thinking that way." Which was also true if the dampness between my thighs was anything to go by.

"It's not that... well, it is that, but that's not what I was thinking about."

I put a hand on his shoulder as he made to stand up again, "Relax," I told him, "I genuinely don't mind you enjoying the view, if you really are."

He sat back and closed his eyes for a few seconds, "I adore the view," he said, despite his closed eyes, "Your tits... I mean your breasts-"

"'Tits' is an okay word under the circumstances."

"Your tits then, are a fantastic sight, truly... but...

"But? Why do you think I should cover them up then?"

He turned his head away and shook it.

I stared at the back of his neck for a few seconds, wondering why he wouldn't look at all I was showing, wondering even if I should tell him just how much I was suddenly loving his eyes on my nudity, but I just said simply, "So take the opportunity to look then. I really don't mind, even if that's not something I'd ever thought I'd hear myself say."

He turned quickly then just for a few seconds before turning back. "I can't.

"Tim, it's okay. Really."

"No it isn't! Don't you see? It was just a growing feeling at first but now I can't stop myself thinking it!"

"Tim! No, I don't see. I'm telling you I really, truly don't mind you looking. And if you're worried about a growing feeling of excitement that might result in... well, in you making a mess, I suppose, then... well, I understand, and it's fine." My heart was back to lurching about in my chest as the truth of my son's friend's emotions started to become clear - and my excitement at his words became even clearer. I let my mouth have free rein. "Truth to tell, I'm finding your enjoyment of my ... bare tits and my exposed pussy rather stimulating."

Tim shuddered visibly but at least he half turned and let his eyes drink in my bare flesh once more, "Fuck it, Mrs H, it's not that I don't find the sight of you a monster turn on... it's just... I'm... I'm sorry!"

"Look at me, Tim, I'm fine with this - enjoying your eyes on me, even. You have not one little thing to be sorry about. Crispin will be back soon so have a good look while you can."

"I'm not sorry about looking! But I really, really need to get your robe now."

"And I keep saying there's no-"

"If I don't," he interrupted, his words tumbling out now, "If I don't then I'm scared I'll try to touch you, okay? You see what I mean now?"

Oh you might laugh to yourselves, but I hadn't seen that coming at all, despite everything. But rather than shock me or horrify me, I understood immediately what he'd been going through - and it sent a wave of equally unexpected excitement shuddering through me. My mouth still functioned, though. "I dare say," I heard my voice forming in the air, "I could hardly blame you for that. I might even think it appropriate."

"You... mean..."

"I have the strongest feeling that I would find it just as much a compliment as your eager eyes."

That was as good as an invitation and his hands were on both of my breasts before I could draw in another breath. "God they're beautiful," he breathed.

"And your hands feel even more welcome than your eyes, Tim - but one little warning. No one outside this room must ever know, do you understand?"

"Oh I do, Mrs H, I do. Can I... can I-"

I eased my legs apart a little, my juices starting to really flow then, "You might as well touch all you can now, so yes, you can. Touch me there as well."

We both gasped as one of his hands slid between my thighs, cupping my exposed womanhood, my moist lips pressed against his hot sweaty palm. "Oh my god," he gasped, "I was only going to say can I kiss your tits but this is... wow."

I bit back a laugh and just said, "Do that too," the stifled laugh turning into a moan of delight as his lips closed over a rigid nipple.

He was clearly no expert in any department but it didn't matter one single iota to my suddenly eager body. I spread my legs a little wider and placed my hand over the one he had on my pussy, guiding his fingers to penetrate my eager folds, pressing my breast harder into his mouth, my free hand holding his head there. I was just about to tell him how good it was all starting to feel when he pulled back sharply.