Saturday night has finally arrived. I’ve been eagerly waiting for this night to come, not because I have anything planned, but because I don’t have anything planned. The last few months have been so busy with work and family and all sorts of shit that I haven’t had a moment’s peace. But tonight, I am home, and I am alone, so I can just sit around and do whatever the hell I want without anyone bothering me.
My name is Mike Thompson, I’m 32, live in a city called Horn Springs, and love my dog. I live alone in a house in the suburbs. I like it here. It’s quiet, beautiful, and clean. I got questions from the neighbors when I moved in as to why a single man would move out here. I’d have to tell them that I was engaged, and she left me not long after the ink dried on the mortgage papers. That’s about around the time life got so hectic, and I guess I’m glad it did because it distracted me from the pain. But that’s all in the past now, and I’m doing better. It's just me and my dog Sam.
This evening I think I’ll just watch some TV and maybe light a bowl. I’ll probably end up watching porn and beating off. But I don't really care, I’m just glad to be home and alone. But before all that, I need to take my dog for a walk. That should be a nice start to the evening. I just got home from work so I need to get cleaned up. I’m a plumber, so sometimes I can get a little messy. I made sure the house I bought had a mud room with a shower, so I could isolate everything from the rest of the house on really bad days. I know what you’re probably thinking, but I assure you it’s usually just mud, not shit. But it’s sometimes shit. Sometimes I get questions about why I would want to be a plumber and I just have to say hey, I’ve got a house, a truck, no debt, and I can easily pay all of my bills with plenty left over. Being a skilled laborer is not a bad way to go.
I pull up to my house and then send my buddy Roger a message to see if he can deliver some weed tonight as I'm almost out. I gather my things from my truck and get out. Roger messages me back and informs me that he can be by sometime later tonight. Nice.
I enter the house through the external mudroom door that is right next to where I park. I really couldn’t have picked a better house for myself. I’m not too dirty today, but still, I start my daily routine of stripping down to nothing, putting my clothes in the wash, and then taking a shower. The external door to the mudroom has a big window in it that I’ve been meaning to put a curtain up but haven’t gotten around to yet. The mudroom is large and tiled, has floor-to-ceiling cupboards and the door to the rest of the house to the left, a washing machine, dryer, utility sink, and windows on the right, and a bathroom with shower on the opposite side of the room from the external door. I kick off my shoes and start to undo my belt. I hear my dog come running down the hall. I reach for a dog treat I keep in one of the cupboards and toss her one after she greets me with a kiss. I pull off my jeans with my socks then take off my shirt. I then turn to the washing machine and put my work clothes in while standing there in nothing but my boxer briefs. I lean forward to turn the machine on and feel my bulge press against the cold metal of the machine. I press in a little harder, enjoying the feeling against my average-sized cock which makes me swell. I then pull off my underwear and throw it in too. I close the lid and move to head to the shower when I hear a knock at the door.
Without thinking, I turn to open the door, my junk completely exposed to the window in the door, and grab the doorknob. I realize my mistake as I look up and lock eyes with the person on the other side. Her eyes dart down at my relaxed and slightly swollen cock before looking back up at me and smiling. I look down to see that I’m exposed. I quickly grab my hat and cover myself before opening the door.
“Hi Mrs. Ferny,“ I say sheepishly, and I peek out from behind the door, which isn’t really hiding me at all as she can still see my ass from her vantage point, “how can I help you?”
Margret Ferny is an older woman, maybe in her mid-60s, who lives next door. She just chuckles at me and says, “Oh Mike, you don’t need to be so proper, please, call me Margret.”
I reposition a little, trying to remain covered and failing mostly. “Alright then, Margret, how can I help you?” I say politely.
Margret chuckles again before she says, “We really should get to know each other more.”
Unsure what she means by that, I inquire, “And why is that?”
“It might make you feel better to know that my husband and I are nudists. We have frequented nude resorts for years, so we are quite accustomed to nudity. Now, it might make you uncomfortable to be seen, and that’s quite alright, but please don't feel embarrassed on my account,” she explains.
I was not expecting that. After a pause, I say, “Oh, really? Well, that is an interesting thing to know. So, you guys are around naked people all the time, and it doesn’t bother you?”
“Perfectly normal and natural to be naked,” Margret reassures me.
“So, what you’re saying is that I don’t need to cover up for you?”
“Only if it makes you more comfortable dear,” she says with a warm smile.
Feeling a little bold and reassured, I lower my hat, open the door, and say “Would you like to come in?”
“Why thank you,” she says politely, then enters my mudroom, closing the door behind her.
I put my hat away as I say, “Excuse me, I’m a little dirty from work. I was just about to hop in the shower.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” she says flatly.
I hesitate, then walk over to the shower to turn it on. As I do so, I ask again, “So, Mrs. Fer… I mean, Margret, how can I help you today?”
“I wanted to ask two favors of you,” she says as she comes closer, the sound of the shower making it harder to hear.
As she gets closer, my mind registers the situation I’m in. I am about to get into the shower while the neighbor lady is standing right here, watching and having a pleasant conversation. I'm going to have to tell Roger about this. He'll never believe it. The idea of the situation makes my dick twitch. Feeling a surge of uncomfortableness, I turn toward the shower and get in, leaving the door open. “Are you sure this is OK with you?” I ask.
“Heavens yes, I have been watching men of all ages shower since my early twenties. You have nothing I have never seen before,” she reassures me as she watches me cover my body in the warm water.
“Well, alright then, how is it that I can help you,” I ask as I turn away from the shower head to wet my backside, which puts my cock in perfect view.
Margret, who is right at the shower door now, says “I was wondering if you could come over and take a look at our downstairs bathroom. There is an issue we've been having that no one seems to be able to fix. I’m hoping you can diagnose the problem. We will pay you, of course. We just wanted to see if I could schedule a time.”
“Sure thing,” I say as I begin to lather soap over my body, still finding the situation rather unreal and strangely arousing, “I wouldn’t charge you to check it out. If it ends up being something I can help with, I’ll just charge you for parts.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you. When could we expect you to come?”
I move my soapy hands down my abs heading towards my penis, which is still in full view. Margret maintains eye contact with me, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I'm spreading suds along my hardening shaft right in front of her. “Would this evening be good?”
“That would be lovely.”
There is no way she can't completely see my member as I continue cleaning it. “And the second?”
“I noticed that you take your dog for a walk every evening, and I was wondering, since our dogs seem to get along so well, if I could impose on you now and again to walk my dog, too.”
I turn around to rinse myself off and say, “That should be fine. Just ask when you need and I’ll let you know if it works for me that day.”
“Perfec. Well, I had best be off. Shall we expect to see you within the hour then?”
I turn off the shower, wipe the water from my eyes, and then turn to see Margret had grabbed my towel for me. I take it and begin to towel off and say, “Yeah, I’ll be right over. I was about to walk Sam though. Is it OK if I bring her along?” I get to my junk and see that I'm completely hard. Oh, well, she did say she's seen a lot of naked men, so she must be used to seeing boners because she seems completely unfazed
“Absolutely,” Margret says as she backs out of the bathroom into the mud room, “and don’t worry about my husband.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, following her into the mud room while drying my hair.
“Don’t feel like you need to keep this from him.”
“Keep what from him? I thought you said this was normal.” I say maybe sounding a little more irritated than I mean to.
“It is, Mike,” she says as she puts her hand on my damp shoulder, “I’m just saying, since you are new to the idea of open nudity, you might feel a little awkward around my husband after this is all. Happens all the time. Just know that you don’t need to feel awkward around him at all.”
Not really knowing how to act in this situation, I give her an awkward smile and say, “Let me get dressed, and I’ll be right over.”
Margret heads for the door and says, “See you soon!” then leaves.
Fuck that was weird. I did not expect to find nudists living in this neighborhood. I finish drying myself off and go to my room to get some clothes on. I put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. I forgo the underwear as I usually go without when spending time at home alone. Well, so much for having time all to myself the whole weekend, but going to the Ferny’s shouldn’t take too long. I put on some shoes, grab Sam, and head out the door.
