Amy_'s blog post - Part 5: Testing the Waters

(Mid 1980s) It was the summer before I left for college. I was at my parents’ house on Hilton Head Island, lying in bed, naked, revving myself up while waiting to hear my parents leave for work. Mornings like this were when the little voice in my head is most vocal with the naughtiest suggestions. She is always full of ideas for various wild escapades in which she thinks I should engage. Most of her ideas are far too wild for me, but on this morning she touched on something with which I had been fascinated for years.

We had an outdoor shower at the side of our house, next to the utility yard. It was uncovered because it was intended to be used by people in swimsuits rinsing off the sand when returning from the beach (common in resort communities like ours). For years I fantasized about having a proper shower outdoors. That morning my naughty little voice was insisting that I finally go for it.

By the time both my parents had gone, I was so worked up that I knew, unlike many of the suggestions from my naughty little voice, I was going to go through with this. I got out of bed, grabbed the soap and shampoo from the bathroom and boldly walked right out the back door. After rebounding from my experience at the hotel (Part 3), I was in a special mood, brimming with confidence. I did not bring a towel, or even peek out the windows first to be sure the coast was clear. Completely naked, I just bravely walked out with purpose.

As I turned the corner to the side of the house where the shower was located, I did look up to assess how well I could be seen from the street or neighbors. But not so much because I was afraid to be seen. I wanted to be seen. In that moment I fantasized about continuing out and doing cartwheels in my front yard. I so wanted to just go for it. But I knew I could not. My parents would surely be told if I were caught like that, and I could not possibly begin to tell them of my intense erotic desires to be so exposed. But having a shower at the side of the house would be easier to explain – or so I convinced myself. I imagined telling my mom that I had so much sand in my bathing suit that I had to take it off, and I thought I would be safe with the reasonably private shower.

The shower could not easily be seen by the neighbors for the trees, and was mostly blocked from the street because of the walls around our utility yard. That is where the trash cans were hidden behind little walls to keep the resort community looking nice. My being caught was unlikely, but enough of a possibility to keep me intensely aroused.

I started the shower and found the noise of the running water helped isolate me from my surroundings in a most relaxing way. Although I took great pleasure from the idea of being discovered, I was still quite nervous. Closing my eyes and stepping under the water, now unable to see or hear if anyone was coming, allowed me to completely surrender to the experience and release any remaining worry for the risks.

The shower was a strange combination - relaxing and exhilarating. I could have stayed out there all day if it wasn’t for the extremely cold water. I was soon shivering uncontrollably and had to cut my otherwise thrilling experience short.

Shortly after dripping my way back into the house, I heard the garbage truck. My heart raced. I had given no thought to that it was trash day. We were not allowed to put the cans out near the street. The garbage men had to retrieve the trash from everyone’s utility yard. If I had taken my shower a bit later, the garbage men would have walked right up beside me. I wondered if I would have heard the truck over the running water.

I debated if I could bring myself to run back out to the shower before they get to my house. The notion hit me physically. I felt lightheaded and tingly, having to drop to my knees at the front window as I watched for the truck and tried to build my courage to go for it. But I couldn’t do it. Although I had been so excited thinking that people could be watching me shower, my nerves were abated by my knowing it is unlikely I was seen. Leaving everything to chance adds to the thrill, and also makes committing to such risks easier. Knowing I would be caught for sure by running out now and having a naked outdoor shower just a few feet from the garbage men would take a level of daring I only wish I had.

I watched from our dining room, still on my knees, but with my upper half exposed through the window. As the garbage truck stopped out front, I bolstered my courage to remain there, unsure how well anyone could see in the window in the daylight. Two men came from the truck and went around the side of the house, never looking my way. By the time they brought out the cans and emptied them, I was feeling my disappointment growing. This was the kind of opportunity about which I endlessly fantasized, and I just knelt there watching them go by.

As the men returned the cans, I became determined to make something of it. I stood to now have my whole body completely exposed at the window. Their backs were to me as they returned to their truck, but my resolve for their attention woke my naughty little voice.

“Run out onto the front porch and wave goodbye.” She urged.

Her suggestions were always the most fun, but there was no way I could run naked out my front door and wave at the garbage men. But such thoughts dramatically increased my arousal, and I now desperately wanted the men to see me at the window. I began slapping my palm on the glass to get their attention, but they didn’t hear me over the sound of the truck. As they moved on to the neighbors, I collapsed on the carpet and lamented that it would be a full week before they returned.

Over the next days, I could not stop thinking about the shower, and the garbage men. As was common that summer, I spent most of my time at home finding sexy fun. My standards were naked chores, sunbathing, endless and varied pleasuring, and playing in the backyard. But now I was taking increasing risks and going more around the side and front of the house, in view of the street and neighbors, to satiate my urges for intensified thrills. I played in the outdoor shower a few more times, always imagining I’m being watched. It was there under the cold water, while looking at the utility yard entrance just a few feet away, that I heard my little voice again. This time I knew she was right. I just had to do it.

I was so impatient for the next trash collection day. My excitement was building every minute. This would be my first time completely nude in front of strangers while close enough to touch. I was titillated and terrified for all the possibilities. I wondered if the men would report me, but doubted that would happen. And if they did, I was convinced that the experience would be worth it, even if I had to tell my sandy bathing suit fib to my mother.

Knowing I would be just around the corner from the trash cans, right next to the men, while naked and soapy wet, got me dizzy with excitement. As brazen as this was, I knew I would go through with it. Not even the cold water would deter me. I planned to pretend I could not hear them because of the running water and would just keep showering. My fantasy was to be seen – watched. But I knew, and worried, that it was very possible they would quickly duck away with embarrassment when they discovered me.

The day finally arrived, and I ran outside the minute my parents had both left the house. I placed the shampoo bottle on the ground next to the shower, because I wanted to be soapy for the encounter. Then I went inside to the front window and waited nervously, sometimes dancing to shake off all my nervous energy.

After what seemed like forever, I heard the truck. As it made its way down our street, I ran out the back door and around the side of the house to the shower. Turning on the water, I began to work the shampoo up into lively suds while in such a state that I don’t even remember the water being cold. I showered for quite a while, waiting for the men to arrive at our house. I didn’t want to look, thinking it would be better if they thought I didn’t know they discovered me. So, I tried catching sly glimpses in the direction of the utility yard, but saw no sign of them.

After a while, I decided it had been too long. I feared they may have turned back when they heard the shower. So, I started to look up and caught sight of a pair of boots near the door to the utility yard. They were pointed right at me. He was so close. Quickly looking way, I was hit with a pounding pressure in my head and great tingling through my body. I thought I was going to burst. I kept showering but was so nervous I stopped breathing and had to focus just to catch my breath. It was incredibly intense. With no doubt he had seen me, I was overwhelmed with erotic stimulation. It was far more powerful than I had imagined. I felt close to orgasm, and truly feared I would pass out.

Soon I heard the cans being moved. The pressure slightly ebbed. They had caught me, and were just continuing with their job. I began to catch my breath, but my head was still pounding. I thought to peek up a bit more to see them taking the cans to their truck, but as I started to look, I could see he was still there watching me. Thrilling for sure, he was only a few feet away, but this was when I realized things could go much different than I had planned. What if he enjoyed my show too much and decided to do something about it? Is that what I wanted? I was filled with so many conflicting emotions.

I kept showering, pretending I had not seen him, while wondering what to do now. I began rinsing the shampoo from my hair, turning this way and that, hoping to appear sexy, but also to turn my head for another peek in his direction. As I did, I realized he was gone. I looked up more, thinking they were leaving, but saw no one. This was my chance to retreat… but I couldn’t. The overwhelming satisfaction overtook my fear. I could not end it.

I stood on my tippy toes to see over the little wall of the utility yard and saw one of them looking right at me. Locking eyes with him, I let out a little involuntary screech and covered my mouth. He looked off to the side and put both his hands up, as if I had a gun. Neither of us moved for a moment. He seemed more scared than I. His partner was coming up the walk toward us, returning the cans.

They could not see much of me now as I was tucked up tight to the little wall I was peeking over. Not knowing what to do next, I just smiled at them. The one in front of me smiled back with eyebrows raised, but kept his hands up. The partner just kept looking down and shook his head while replacing the cans. I could tell they were afraid. This is not exactly what I wanted, or imagined would happen, but it relaxed me. They seemed harmless, allowing me to feel empowered, yet wonderfully vulnerable, caught naked and wet by these strangers.

“Thank you.” I said in my most coquettish way, wanting them to know everything was okay.

They both backed away while waving their hands – not in the way of goodbye, but more as if to shoo me away. I think they were trying to gesture away any guilt on their part, or were perhaps suggesting I should not be out here naked. They said nothing, although their expressions told me that they found this a confusing but enlivening encounter.

After they turned and moved farther down the walk, I realized all had gone better than I hoped. I did not want it to end. Before they reached their truck, I stepped out from behind the wall, in case they looked back one more time. They did. I struck a cute pose and gave a little wave. The more engaging one raised his hand to his forehead and continued to his truck.

I jumped up and down with excitement, turned off the water and scurried around the corner into the house. From the front window I watched the truck continue down the street. Then I dropped to the floor and rolled around on my mother’s soft white carpet, overwhelmed with excitement and pleasure. It could not have gone better.

I immediately began plotting to do it again next week. That thought lasted for a few days, but I eventually decided not to push my luck. Probably best they thought it was an accident. Although, I knew there was plenty more teasing in my future. And when lying in bed each morning, I would still kick off the covers and fantasize about being discovered there by the boys I liked, or Tom Selleck – or now, sometimes, a couple of shy sanitation workers…

It is rare to have all go as well or better than planned. And even though I would go on to much more daring and intense adventures, this remains one of my most stimulating experiences ever.

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