Out of this "market test", a few longer term CFNM opportunities came my way. I will detail a few of them.

One lady approached me directly, with a suggestion that I entertain a group of ladies from a support group, that she had been attending. The ladies were involved in a group-counselling program, that aimed to support ladies undergoing divorce, or separation, from longer-term relationships. She herself, recently divorced, was embittered and distrustful of men in general. Seeing me naked, and submissive with fully-clothed women, reminded her that not all men dominated their relationships with women, such that they alone decided when and how to end relationships, or what extra-marital experiences the women might enjoy. She felt that their spirits might be lifted, as hers had been, by having a submissive man entertain them, where they had full control, and the man remained in an embarrassing, and vulnerable, naked state.

She invited members of her group to a lunch in her apartment, where table service was to be provided by an attentive, humble and attractive naked man, of similar age and social background to themselves. They ranged in age from the late forties, to the mid sixties, were all used to a reasonably affluent lifestyle, but were quite traumatised and angry at being abandoned for a younger women, worried about a new life on their own, and quite lacking in self-confidence. At that time, I was in my early fifties, still physically active, quite slim and tall, with a complete absence of body hair, tattoos, or scars. 

I arrived at the apartment a little before the female guests, was given a tour of the kitchen, and the dining room, and shown the dishes already prepared, the drinks, including coffee and tea-making facilities, and the desserts, also pre-prepared. My job was to be the table-waiter, bringing the food to the table, taking away the finished crockery, and attending to drinks. I was asked to remain in the kitchen, and when all ladies had arrived, I was to undress there, and come into the dining room to be introduced.

As I waited, I could hear the ladies enthusiastically greet each other, and then settle into animated conversation, until the next lady arrived, and the process would begin anew. Finally all seven of the guests had arrived, and had settled around on chairs, settees, and lounges. My host came to the kitchen and told me to join the others. I quickly undressed, and was led, by the hand, into the other room, to be introduced. A silence drowned out the chattering noise that had preceded it. I politely asked each lady for her drinks order. Eyes were diverted, responses barely audible, and a certain "coldness" permeated the room. 

Leaving the room, to get the drinks organised, I heard the chattering resume, but nowhere did I hear any comment relating to the naked apparition they had just witnessed. Re-entering the room, again the silence. Each drink was accepted without eye contact, quietly, and with little, or no, enthusiasm. I then delivered each meal to the table, at which the women were now seated. Again, a deafening silence. It now occurred to me that I was interrupting their conversation, for which I was intruding, as if I was an unwelcome eavesdropper. I was a man, interfering with private girls' talk. Each time I entered the room, to replenish drinks, the same cold silence descended, and I returned with no drink orders.

I was disappointed, and felt I should leave. However, I optimistically thought that things would settle down, so I remained in the kitchen, with only the occasional intrusion on the ladies. What else to do? I washed and dried the utensils that languished in the sink. I cleaned the stove, and then the oven. Noticing the refrigerator retained some spillages within, I emptied it, cleaned the shelves, and then returned the contents neatly. In between, I took back the dishes no longer in use, and washed and dried them.

I washed the window that overlooked the sink, and swept clean the floor. Noticing some sticky sections on the floor, I found a bucket, and a suitable cloth, and I was on my knees, cleaning the floor, when my hostess returned, to tell me that her guests were now leaving. What a compromising position! Telling me to remain where I was, she invited the ladies to the doorway, to show them what an efficient housemaid I had been. Of course, I was dreadfully embarrassed, but noticing the smiles light up the faces, that had previously been far less than welcoming, I felt that, at last, I had given them some pleasure. We bid each other goodbye.

The hostess saw the ladies out, then returned to the kitchen, where I was now standing. She thanked me for my forebearance, and apologised for her error in assessing how the other ladies would react to my nakedness, and subservience. She thanked me profusely for my work in the kitchen, and told me she would be in touch.

I was most surprised, when I heard from her again, three or four months later. The ladies were meeting again, at the home of another one of them, and I was invited to join them, in a similar capacity as before. This time, when I arrived, I was put under no illusions as to my purpose. I was to be more than the naked housemaid, than the naked waiter, although I was expected to attend to both chores. Things proceeded much as before, with the conversation noisy when I was not in the room, but which subsided patiently when I was. Eyes met occasionally, and from time to time, I could see that my nakedness attracted a little more attention. I again left the kitchen in immaculate condition, an achievement acknowledged before the ladies left.

A few months later, I was on the job again. This time the lunch was in a beach-side apartment. The windows, and the glass doors that led to the two balconies, were quite dirty from the salt spray coming off the ocean. My main job was to clean them, although I was also still the waiter. The doors were easy, and probably beyond the view of any outside eyes. We were quite high, so view from below was virtually impossible, and no other apartment blocks faced ours. The windows were far mor difficult, as I had to lean out to clean half the window at a time. This was a little scary, but I was very careful. The best were the doors to the main balcony, and the windows into the dining room, as I was in the full view of the guests. I made sure I did not censor any position I needed to adopt, in order to complete the task efficiently. I made sure that every bit of me was open for inspection.

It was now apparent that, even though converstion eased off in my presence, it did not do so completely. The things I did hear were not the intimacies they would share only with themselves, but the less private or personal ones. I even began to notice some commentary concerning myself, and my nakedness, mostly positive, but sometimes a little embarrassing. I was even beginning to feel somewhat welcome, even allowing for the fact that I was being used. I liked that, anyway.

Again, months later, I was invited to the home of another of the ladies, who had, by this time, decided to meet on a regular, revolving, basis. On arrival, I encountered a beautiful period home, surrounded by lavish gardens, and grand trees. Lunch was on a covered porch, that overlooked the backyard. The area was quite private, protected by a high fence, and statuesque trees. The ladies sat around a large table, out of the sun, but with full, uninterrupted view of the yard. I now became the naked gardener, as well as the waiter. I mowed the lawn with a push mower.

The day was warm, the lawn area large, and the mowing required considerable effort. I got up quite a sweat. I was invited to take a cold shower, under a hose set up in the garden for that purpose. Still dripping from the shower, I served the table, before returning to the yard, to clip the edges, and do some pruning. Being in full view of the audience, I became a little more daring in my exhibitionism. I bent to allow full view of my naked little hairless hole. In doing so, I began to become aroused for the first time ever in their presence. By the time I needed to return to my duties as a waiter, my arousal was complete, but ignoring this, I went about these duties politely, and nonchalantly. Whereas previously, before doing the edges, I was able to listen in on their conversation, even when waiting on them, this time the conversation disappeared, and I became the centre of attention.

The lady host commented that perhaps I needed another shower, a remark that elicited general laughter from her guests, including myself. Some of the ladies even suggested that a shower may spoil the entertainment. It was now over a year since our first meeting, and I now felt, at last, that the ice was broken. Smiling, I apologised for my dilemma, suggesting this was an unavoidable man thing, and should be ignored. 

Back in the yard, the conversation had receded into whispers, and laughter. Occasionally I sensed remarks on my manliness, my child-like hairless private parts, my overall athletic physique, etc. Making sure that I now faced my audience most of the time, my erection remained, even stiffening, with drops of pre-cum becoming increasingly evident. I did nothing to wipe these droplets away, as they became a slender, transparent stream hanging from my cock.

I took this exhibition back to the table, to clear away dishes, and take more drink orders. The ladies could not hide their fixation on my erection, and the juice emanating from it. I did nothing to relieve this fixation, but as I returned to the yard, I ensured that they could see me take the juice into my hand, and spread it around my cock. I began pruning various shrubs, ignoring my erection, but keeping it well within view. Eventually, the erection began to subside, and the day proceded without further excitement. People now spoke to me directly, pleasantly, but not provocatively. I went about my tasks, but I now felt I had become part of the group.

Those episodes took place more than twenty years ago. The women continued to meet every three or four months. I have witnessed them emerge from the frailty and anger, that dominated their behaviour and discussions, when we first started. One or two have moved away. One is now suffering the onset of dementia, but she still attends, accompanied, from her nursing home, by two of the group. A daughter of one has joined the group. Others have joined. Outside guests were sometimes invited. A long time ago, I was admitted, even to the most personal discussions. It pleased me to know that each lady had moved on, leaving their individual distress behind. Some have new relationships. Most have not, but enjoy their freedom none-the-less, particularly their new grand children. 

Over the years, I became, not only a regular, but also an active participant in the discussions. Each lady became comfortable including me in most of the intimate details of their lives, as they had previously done, only with the other women. Each became comfortable with my nudity, to the extent that they would comment on certain aspects, ask questions, and request that I adopt different poses. An erection became a vital part of my repertoire, and I was certainly reprimanded, if I did not achieve one. They were certainly captivated by my nonchalance, my hairlessness, and the smoothness of my skin. I would be asked to swing my cock from side to side, up and down, round and round, to their great amusement. I would be asked to pick things up from the floor, things that they had "accidentally" dropped, and which required me to bend down low to search for. In time I began to be rewarded for these displays, with gentle slaps across my backside. 

It took several years for any physical contact with my cock and balls. It was always done playfully, to feel the smoothness of the skin, around and on these items, or to set off some swinging or bouncing motion. On occasion, I received a gentle slap, or tug, on my cock, to the amusement of all. A few years back, I needed to have my prostate removed, and could no longer amuse them with an erection. This is when each one of them gave my cock a gentle caress, to comfort it for its loss of manliness..

I love these women, and I am proud of them. I do not want to exaggerate any focus on me, or my nudity. The meetings still focussed mostly on their own personal journeys, how they dealt with divorces, financial settlements, career changes, grandchildren, planned or unplanned meetings with their exes, the marriage of their children, new men in their lives, even lesbian experiences. This opening up to me, has been a large part of my reward.

I have always enjoyed the experience of being fully accepted as an exhibitionist, this being a significant part of my make-up. I wonder if it feels the same for gays to be accepted into general society. Being naked, surrounded by fully-clothed women, talking naturally to them in this state, discussing my feelings, being accepted and not offending, allowing my body to enjoy itself, and being complimented, as one would compliment another's coat, or hat, is a beautiful experience. The women have almost always called the shots, and this fact satisfies my need to be submissive. Obviously it has been a factor in their acceptance of me. If I had pushed myself onto them, I think I would have lost them. They have acknowledged that they enjoy bossing me around, trying to embarrass me, and taking advantage of my nakedness. 

I hope to remain a part of these gatherings, for many years to come.