Through the Net Curtain

In my mid twenties I purchased my first house - a two up two down as this type of property is referred to over here, in the London suburb of Ruislip.  An area made somewhat famous by the author Leslie Thomas in his book ‘The Tropic of Ruislip’.

I moved in and started redecorating.  All the redecoration work I did was done in the raw (nude) having first put up cheap oversized old net curtains for privacy. I enjoyed the still empty unfurnished house and carrying out the work naked, mostly painting. It gave me an erotically vulnerable feeling; particularly climbing up the ladder into the attic to clear out the previous occupants discarded rubbish.  I enjoyed the musty smell and hot stale air up there. It aroused my senses till I no longer could resist the urge to masturbate.  In the semi dark, holding onto the wooden cross beams and taking care not to put my feet through the plasterboard I’d stand straddled over the loft entrance, slowly masturbating my cock with long casual strokes watching my cum dropping to the floor below.   

What thrilled me far more however was standing by the low bay window looking out onto the street, my stiff cock wrapped in the plentiful ticklish folds of the net curtain in one hand masturbating away, and a cup of tea in the other (The essential tea break!) whilst watching the occasional pedestrian pass by, (the public footpath being three meters from the window offering an un-obstructive view) and, rather hoping that one of them might observe the rapidly moving curtain as they passed.  Several did, whether or not any of them clearly saw the activity taking place, or simply pretended not to notice I was never quite sure. I was also unsure how visible I was stood pressed against that curtain.

One middle aged gentleman though did notice me!  He had stopped just past the gate and gazed directly towards me. Feeling suddenly nervous and conscientious of my act, I slowed down the pace of my rubbing and the curtain movement eased off.  I stared back at him. He just stood gazing directly at me, then, a smile spread across his face and he put his two hands together drawing them apart motioning me, I realised, to part the curtain. Emboldened by his gesture I quickly dropped my cup spilling the remaining tea over the floor and unfolded the curtain from around my cock; parting it and bringing my erect cock and me into full view. Leaning in closer over the window ledge I started masturbating furiously. Moments later my first shots of cum spurted out, splattering onto the bottom part of the window before slowly dribbling down.  I had not been looking at him during my frantic masturbation and climax but now I did.  His grin had broadened and he raised and arm and wagged his index finger at me whilst mouthing something that I read as, ‘You naughty boy’.  He then turned, still smiling and walked on.

Over the ensuing months I saw him pass by my house a few times and he would always glance towards the bay widow.   On the rare occasions that we passed one and other in the street neither of us engaged the other in conversation apart from a simple exchange of greetings, but always accompanied by a knowing nod and wink from him.

Whilst still redecorating I did enjoy another even more wildly imaginative experience (to my mind at least) involving my front door letterbox. But, I am in two minds whether to record it.