I am not sure how this all started. It probably began when I was in my late sixties, and Wendy, our next-door neighbour, was in her early seventies. I have been an exhibitionist since my late teens. I love to be naked, and, except for cold days, would normally be without clothes about the house. I am tall and slim, have always exercised regularly, and delight in maintaining the body of a much younger man. 

Wendy and her husband live next door. He was, until recently, quite an active man, but his physical well-being has deteriorated over the last decade, to the point that he rarely ventures outdoors, except the periodic visits to hospital, needed to relieve pain in his back, limbs and joints. Wendy recently retired from her job in an aged-care facility, is quite healthy, and spends much of her time in the garden.

Their home is downhill from ours, by about the equivalent of one storey. Two-thirds of their backyard is, however, on a similar level to ours. Behind both our yards is a hill, covered by tall trees and vegetation, which is council-owned land, and which gives us total privacy from the homes along the ridge above. We have always been on friendly terms with these neighbours.

Our rear rooms have large windows, and a full-length glass back door. Two of the windows adjacent to their property have very low window sills, only a couple of feet above the floor. Therefore our living rooms are totally open to view from the fence line on the back two-thirds of their yard, as is the entirety of our backyard. The neighbour on the other side of our property has a total view over our yard, but being set more forward, has no view into our rear windows. The sole middle-aged occupant, not being a gardener, spends little or no time in her yard.

There is a fence between our properties. From the rear of our houses is a wooden fence, maybe five feet high, which overlooks the downhill part of her yard, to the house. We have a clothesline standing against this fence. When it reaches the flatter and quite level part of our yards, it gives way to a low (three feet or so) open wired fence, that continues up a slight incline, before turning at right-angle to mark the end of their property. Our yard and rear windows and door are all open to full view from this part of the fence, that begins only fifteen paces from our back door.

After her retirement, Wendy began to spend a lot of time in her garden, mostly at the front of her house. Occasionally, however, she attended to a vegetable garden, some fruit trees, and a chicken coup, in her backyard. At some time I became aware of her working in her yard, wondering if, since I could see her, she could see me.

And, assuming she could, had she seen my naked body inside our house, as I was often nude inside. I began to look to see if she was in sight, before placing myself at various positions where I would surely be visible. I was always careful to avoid eye-contact, so I was never sure that I had been spied, but was almost certain that I had been.

Adjacent to our back door was a cupboard that contains a washing machine, a microwave oven, and some household products. Beside the cupboard rested our refrigerator. Sometimes I would leave the back door open, and pretend to have business in the cupboard or refrigerator, without facing in her direction. Placing a small mirror strategically in the cupboard, I could see her clearly, and was now able to verify that, not only was I seen but that the vision was appreciated.

Upping the ante again, sometime later, I stood in the open doorway, front on, pretending to be having an animated discussion on the phone. Avoiding eye contact, but with an occasional glance from the corner of my eye, I could discern that my presence was being studied, for the entire five to ten minutes that I maintained the charade. She was only fifteen steps away the whole time. 

On another occasion, I was cleaning and oiling our outdoor furniture beside the timber fence, naked of course. The beginning of the open wire fence was next to me. I was not aware of Wendy's presence until I noticed a small rustling noise beside and behind me. From the corner of my eye, I could see Wendy's face, almost at ground level, only two or three feet away, looking up at me.

Pretending not to have seen her, I continued my work, adjusting my stance to facilitate a better view of my cock and balls, fully clean-shaven as usual. I do not know how long she stayed there, but when I glanced a few minutes later, she was gone. I can only assume she had been working on her vegetable garden, which was exactly where she had been.

Things were escalating. I really loved showing myself off naked. My other stories attest to this. To know you are seen is a step up. To know that you cause no concern, and that in fact, you are appreciated, is better yet again. Now I wanted to go further again - to demonstrate that I was aware of being naked, and watched. Although I would assume this had become fairly evident by this time.

I jogged two or three times weekly. Afterwards I showered, and washed my gear in the shower and, still naked, I hung them to dry on the clothes-line beside the timber fence. One morning, seeing Wendy close by, I wrapped a towel loosely around me and proceeded to hang my clothes to dry.

We exchanged pleasantries while I did this. I gathered up some clothes from the line, that had dried from the previous day, and stepped up to talk face-to-face with Wendy. During this discussion, I allowed the towel to fall, leaving me naked, within touching distance. My hands being occupied, I could not immediately recover, so I apologised,

I walked ten paces over to our outdoor table and deposited the dry clothes. I then walked back towards her, bent to recover my towel, and replaced it. I said that I hoped she had not been offended, to which she replied that she had seen many naked men before at the retirement village, but none so obviously fit and charming as I appeared to be. Another milestone reached!

This whole chapter might have taken place over two or three years. We have lived in this house ten years or so, and the "showings" did not start until she had retired - about five years ago. Having finally reached the stage that she knew I was an exhibitionist, and that I knew that she had no problems with that, there was no real reason not to be more open about it. 

More in Part 2.