The weather here in the UK has been quite good overall for quite a while now.  The timing was good as I found myself off work during an absolute scorcher.  Strangely, I didn’t need much of an opportunity to get out there and sunbathe – something I haven’t done for quite a while, so having discarded the T-shirt, and wearing my favourite pair of short shorts (and nothing else), I took myself outside, and armed with a bottle of  spray on sun-protection liquid, I doused myself with the stuff and soaked up some rays, my body glinting with a somewhat sexy almost oily sheen of it.

Sitting in that patio chair easy chair, high up on a hill with no-one around and the balcony railings giving some cover, shades and hat on, reclined but not flat out, and wishing to get as many rays as possible across my body, I unbuttoned my shorts and slid the zip down a tad, folding the two upper flaps of the shorts back to expose more flesh and a glimpse of the upper part of my my mostly smooth nether regions, whilst rolling up the short legs of the shorts a little too, my cock and balls penned in as the fabric folded around.   The sun, and whatever Vitamin it had been giving me in the days previously was craved and soaked up and, not being one for sunbathing for as long as I can remember, this was quite an experience, the pleasant breeze complementing the searing heat.

Feeling somewhat euphoric, acknowledging the sheen of my body glistening in sun tan spray, and adding more every 20 minutes or so to be safe than sorry as well as being just plain old ruddy sexy, those parts that were already brown, went more brown, whilst those parts that had hardly connected with the sun since I was a child were allowed to revel, naked in the air.  I found myself headily aroused, something not lost on the other half who came outside eyeing me up and questioning my appearance, tantamount to being naked and, with those rolled up shorts, acknowleged the semi-hardness beneath, coming over to titter and have the briefest of touches, like a young girl exploring her sexuality, asking why ‘it’ was like ‘that’ then recoiling within, perhaps to ponder some more!   Naughty boy eh?

If you’re expecting this to become a ’50 Shades of Grey’ style story of seduction – in short, you’ll be disappointed.  Sorry – for very good reason – in that very moment, that sort of thing couldn’t happen.  Anyway, I excused myself from my evident state of arousal, attributing it to the lack of experience in soaking up the sun’s rays and that I found it somewhat invigorating, also excusing the unbuttoned shorts and unzipped fly, quite rationally, to wanting to maximise the tan.  Somehow, if my cock had reached full arousal and popped out of the top of shorts, whether the other half was around or not, I wouldn’t have been bothered – I am, as my previous web cam sessions will demonstrate – quite an exhibitionist, although this appears to be going from webcam to reality!  (Only the other night, in the dark, cool of the evening, I wandered out naked to lock the shed but lingered in the passageway and open twilight where a view might conceivably, but, to my knowledge, probably wasn’t taken.)

One night over the last week or so, unable to sleep, I got up, wandered out to the patio doors at what was probably around 1:30-1:45am, flung them open and daringly but slowly edged from the carpet onto the outdoor surface beyond the threshold, backing up in terror, then, firstly, the toes, then the foot of one leg, then the other leg, then out, just beyond the partially open doors.

Eyeing up the patio furniture on which I’d bathed that day, I contemplated the next daring move, to sit naked on the chair.  I mused on what my response would be if the other half stirred.  I reasoned that this was unlikely and that she’s usually out for the count and was, in any case, in bed in the other side of the building.  I reasoned that, nobody would be up and about to see the merest glimpse, darkness and twilight all around, an abundance of distance curtained windows, punctuated only by the odd street light in the distance.

However, having felt the breeze cascade across and around my naked body, I lingered only by the doorway before stepping back, sitting inside, yet allowing my legs to stretch outside, the acknowledgement of the daring nature of my exhibitionism, the arousal moving to self-foreplay and pre-cum, the heightened pleasure but not all out abandonment proving satisfactory as it did do on a number of occasions, craving the act and taste on an all too frequent basis, sexuality explored further.  I returned to bed to discover that the sexual journey had carried me to 3am.

Frequently going commando day after day in shorts but with a T-shirt too whilst out and about, I was enveloped in a general state of sexual excitement, testosterone perhaps creeping rather than pouring out around me, the other half sometimes reminded from time to time that there would be less clothes to wash this week, smiling wryly as if she had a cunning plan to hatch.   I allowed myself to ride the peak of heightened sexuality over the course of the week, taking myself off during a call of nature, but also hardening in private, allowing some pre-cum to ooze and be lapped up before cleaning up and returning from my privacy – dwelling a while to ensure that there would not be any residue to soak through the thin shorts.

I’d recently discovered an interest in a Fleshlight men’s toy, watching them being demonstrated, marketed and, even used to interesting and stimulating results on-line.    Rationalising that if the other half could have a vibrator to use when I wasn’t around, I could equally have a Fleshlight to use when she wasn’t around, (although I doubt she’d see it that way – I’ve got to work out where I’ll store it and allow it to (what is it they say?) air-dry) exploring the edges of sexual peaks and pushing new boundaries of staying power.  A Fleshlight, I concluded, was a must and a Crystal Ice version too for an extra boost of sexual energy.

Previous blogs had detailed how purchasing lingerie was once easy, the postman known to deliver when only I was home, to be able to intercept and stash, but for this purchase, having identified the recent positioning of one of those ‘Lockers’ near to but far enough away from home, I put the order in for the Fleshlight and looked forward eagerly to being notified of its availability for collection and the sexual exploration, nay, discovery that lay and lies ahead.   Only tell that to those ‘Rainforest’ website folk.  A quick delivery was thwarted by the ‘undeliverable’ message being received via e-mail and a check on the order.

I contacted customer services by e-mail and ranted that sheer incompetence must have applied. Surely they knew there was a locker at this mundane location outside a retail establishment.   How on earth could it have been ‘undeliverable’?   Rashly, I presumed that someone somewhere was intercepting my parcel, having learned that the sender users a particular set of lettering on the box, rather than the actual brand name, and that this had been acknowledged by the courier who’d ‘conveniently’ lost it.

To their credit, the ‘Rainforest’ rep apologised, distanced themself from the vague reasoning for the ‘undelivered’ status (surely they’d not gone into the retail establishment to ask for me to hand over the box in person?) and said that the item would be returned to them, then rectified the situation by telling me that another had been ordered – I’ll blog more about that very first moment of use soon – oh I have almost meticulously planned, learned more about how to use it, maintain it and benefit from it!

With that plan hatched over the course of the week, and the order awaited, ‘naughtiness’ continued on returning to work the other day, the mundane office countered by the office trousers with nothing beneath – commando once more.  Sure, I’d worn lingerie under my work clothes before, always covered by a pair of baggy shorts to cover any tell-tale suspender strap or stocking top lines, but this was another first – commando at work.

Trips to the toilet were, (and excuse me for the minutiae of detail here) tinged with a humourous smile as, doing one’s self up again, I reached for the usual men’s skimpy g-string to pull up or tuck away into only to find it wasn’t there and all of a sudden – that reminder that I’d gone commando to work!

The mundane journey to work was heightened by the sensation as rear of fly brushed gently against naked unhardened cock, step by step, casual brushes of the hand against material, fingers confirming the lack of a presence of another garment beneath, where, usually, the ‘v’ shaped pattern of a mens g-string would have been identifiable to touch.

Anyway, back to the secretly erotic week.  The week’s wanderings have taken me to markets and car boot sales, again in searing heat, clear blue skies and radiating sunshine.   Still in shorts, still commando, wandering up the lines of folk with this, that, the other and more besides, the muted crossdresser within instantly spotted basques, bras and other lingerie where it had been casually flung onto racks with other various items of clothes for everyone, but the lingerie in pride of place to catch a genuine buyer’s eye.

There were occasions where my footfall was not with my other half, so my gaze was allowed to linger longer than it would otherwise in those moments.   Within those briefest of glances, high speed calculations were whirring away in my mind, imagining situations where I’d be alone, able to browse and purchase, wash and wear before reality struck again as I swiftly returned to reality.

However long it has been since I last wore any lingerie whatsoever other than my own mens undergarments, the recovering crossdresser was still shackled, enveloped in a chastity belt of dedication to the cause – STILL not crossdressing – I could look but I couldn’t touch.

It has been quite a week, even though another private moment on the end of days of reaching but backing away from the peak, saw me reach and enjoy the taste of pre-cum once more, this time in the shower, but as the pulsations continued, moments later, almost semi-disappointingly passed the point of no return.  The heightened state of sexuality, including being draped naked on the top of the bed in the cool of the evening, has continued and is continuing.

As always, thanks for reading.

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