Date: Fri, 29 Jan 2021 17:09:21 +0000 From: Incarefree Subject: Caught naked (bisexual/adult-youth) Caught naked..Part 1 Jay F. Mugs The truth about my nudity habit from an early age, and how the neighbor found out... Thank you for reading my story...If you would like to comment to me directly, you can find me at incarefree on Wickr and incarefree at protonmail.com...as always, if you object to sex with minors, please go somewhere else. And as always, please support Nifty and all the fine work that this site publishes! * * * * "Sunshine on my shoulders, makes me happy" John Denver... I call it streaking, but really it only qualified as that because I was running scared. What I craved was to be naked in the sunshine. And when I first gave into the urge to be naked in the sunlight outside, I remember with aching detail my little ten year old boy self freaking out and running for the garage and then dashing back into the house. I touched the brick face of the garage as if I'd tagged 3rd base and now I was making for home plate with all I had. As a matter of fact, as a third grader, I never recall showing that much speed in Little League. But, strip me naked, and watch me go! It wasn't a bet or a dare. There wasn't another soul around that I knew of. I just really wanted to be naked outside. The sun on my skin felt better than warm bathwater. The breeze across my exposed genitals was more erotic than another person's touch. I wanted to be naked. I talked with another person recently who was sharing their difficulty in being around their pretty little granddaughter. She was 9 and she was at "that stage where you just can't keep clothes on them," he said with some exasperation. I sensed that he enjoyed the constant display, but that maybe grandma would be less approving of his arousal. So these memories I have may simply be when I entered developmental stage where I just didn't want clothes on. Nudism wasn't practiced in my 4th grade class in public school. Looking back, I'm fairly certain it was frowned upon. But I really did streak in my backyard. And I did it more than once. I am the youngest of a pile of boys, with some 5 years between me and the next brother. I'm sure I was unplanned, but such is life and I'm here anyway, so let's make the best of it... I'm really not sure how I got away with it, either. I mean I get how mom would leave me alone in the care of a brother, and I can see how that brother would just ignore me completely if at all possible. But how would I get from my bedroom on the second floor, down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, out the back door and across the yard? How could I have done that? Especially as often as I did? Naked as the day I was born? But I'll place my hand on the family bible that this happened. How? I can't speak to my ingenuity. The power of naked little boys, who knew? I say all of this because it reveals a lot about who I am as a person. It really tells you who I was as a kid. I thought of myself as truly weird. If I were honest at the time, I think I thought of myself as broken and bad. I mean, who wants to go around naked? Your mother will yell at you, your father will spank you, and if you get caught, your friends (if they even stay friends) will never let you live it down. Who would do such a thing? Well, me. The need to be naked and free was just stronger than all of those negative reactions. Nudity won the day...um, days. I was always alone. I could streak around the backyard freely, running from spot to spot. I felt the warm sun on my body and it made my little prick stand straight out. Such an enjoyable way to pass the day. Until the day I got caught. Mrs. Hamilton lived next door. She lived next door with her whole family: her husband, two daughters and a son, all of whom were older than me. She was always nice to me and said hi when she saw me playing in the yard. But she was the neighborly mom, of indeterminate age and sex as far as I was concerned. Until the day she caught me. "Jay!" came the sharp call from my right side. I had shed my clothes after getting off the school bus. It was bright and sunny and I knew that I'd have the house alone for at least a half hour until a brother or two got out of high school and came home. This was a perfect time for a quick jaunt in the yard. I had been watching the house closely, but that concentration kept me from looking at the neighbors on either side. Tactical error. "Jay!" a female voice yelled again, this time taking on the distinct tones of a mom. I froze. I turned my head slowly, not wanting to see what I knew was there: Mrs. Hamilton, standing in her driveway, not twenty feet away, looking directly at me. "What are you doing?" she said incredulously. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. The fear that had propelled me to great speeds now froze my muscles into complete and total inaction. "Is your mother home?" she asked, trying to garner some reaction from me. I shook my head. "Is anybody home?" she said, stressing the middle word. I shook my head again. "Why on earth are you naked?" she asked, her voice about half an octave higher than her normal tone. "I like it," I said slowly, coming to my senses and covering my penis, now deflated to a Vienna sausage. So there we stood: a ten year old boy, covering his dick like Adam facing God, and the next door neighbor, standing next to her car with grocery bags trying to figure out what she's actually seeing. In hindsight, I wish I had a photograph of this moment, the comedy is so good. Of course, I thought this was the end for me. It had been a good run, but life would cease when my parents found out what I'd been doing. At ten, you are pretty sure your parents can kill you if they want to. And I was confident that my dad held the power of life and death over me. So this is how it would go. Sigh. "Follow me," she said firmly, turning around and carrying the grocery bags into her back door. I did just that. I distinctly remember the feeling of her driveway on my bare feet. I had only planned on being in the grass, so I hadn't even worn sandals to go outside. I was really and truly naked for my little adventure. But now I was following Mrs. Hamilton into her house. Maybe she wasn't going to wait for my parents. Maybe she'd just call the police. That made sense to me. She held the door open for me and I went inside her kitchen. She put the groceries down and pulled out a chair. She disappeared for a moment and returned with a beach towel. "Put this around yourself, please," she said as she handed me the towel. I did and sat back down in the chair, prepared to meet my fate. "Why are you naked?" she asked again. I shrugged my shoulders, the eternal answer for life's mysteries from a kid. "I dunno," I said, "it just feels good when I do it." Pause. She just stood in front of me, looking down on me...silently. "How often do you do this?" she asked, her voice even. "Whenever I can," I answered truthfully, "but I can't get away from my brothers or my parents very often." "Does it feel good right now," she asked, an eyebrow raising. "No," I said. "Did I ruin it," she asked, a smile tugging at her face. "Oh no," I said quickly, not wanting her to feel bad by saying the truth. "I was going right back inside anyway," I finished. Pause. "To do what?" she asked. "Um," she had me there. I couldn't tell her the truth, that I liked to pull on my hard little dick after I'd been naked outside. All of it made me feel so good, but I couldn't say that out loud. "Do you touch yourself?" she prompted, "down there?" her eyes made it clear she was talking about my crotch. She had me. I hung my head in shame. "Yes," I nodded, "I do." I was sure she was going to tell all this to the police. But I deserved it, I'd been bad and I was properly ashamed of myself. Just then the tide turned. "Do you know," she started, "that I like to feel the sun on my skin, too?" What? I looked up, brightened in the thought that somebody else might like those feels like I did. "Yes," she continued, "I like to feel the sun on my skin and the breeze on my body just like you do." "Oh, that's great," I smiled. And I meant it, too. How great that somebody else felt that same way? "But when I go outside, I look carefully both ways and make sure that nobody's watching," she said, her eyebrows arching again. In hindsight, I realize she was trying to see if I understood her meaning. But, of course, I was ten so I didn't understand anything. "You do it, too?" I asked, incredulous that somebody else might like to be naked outside. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do," she answered. "Maybe some time," she went on, "you and I can be outside naked together?" Well, I got that. It had an immediate effect on my ten year old self. I started to get a stiffie under that towel. And Mrs. Hamilton noted my discomfort. "Well, now that we understand each other," she said, "why don't I just take my towel back?" She reached out her hand. I really didn't want to give it to her. I didn't want her to see how hard I was. It was as shameful as getting caught outside in the first place. But she wasn't relenting and kept her hand out for the towel. What to do? I could feel my face burn again in shame. If I took that towel down now, she would see my nakedness. More to the point, she would see that I had a stiff dick. And she would know that I got it from talking to her. I hadn't come in here with it. I surrendered. I stood up and gave it to her, the towel falling away. My dick stood at attention straight out from my midsection. I looked up and her and found her looking at my stiffness. I wanted to be embarrassed and cover up, but her eyes had the effect of making me stand a little straighter. Suddenly and surprisingly, I wanted her eyes on me. For the first time in my brief "nude boy" career, I longed another person to see me, really see me. "Hmmmm" she pursed her lips and made a noise. "How long until somebody comes home looking for you?" she asked. "I suppose soon," I said, telling her about my brothers and mom. "Ok," she said, "how about we try again and meet sometime when you don't get caught in the back yard...maybe you could come straight over here one day after school?" I nodded as she spoke. "Maybe," she paused, "tomorrow after school?" I nodded again. My hardness didn't go away. Even as she let me out her back door and I ran across to my own house and up to my room, my little cock bobbed in front of me, leading the way. It felt great when I pulled on it that afternoon. I could see Mrs. Hamilton's face as she saw me uncovered. I liked seeing Mrs. Hamilton's face as she looked at me. Whatever she wanted with me, I felt excitement gnawing at my stomach. I was sure it would feel so good...