It was a warm mid-morning as I jogged up the last hill before home. The road winds up the hill, affectionately known to joggers as "heartbreak hill". It has two lanes on either side, a footpath and a narrow nature strip between the footpath and the road. Tourist buses frequent the road to allow tourists splendid views across Sydney Harbour, taking in the Opera House, the Harbour Bridge, Shark Island, Fort Denison and the harbour itself. Once a year, joggers of all ages pound up the hill in the second half of the famous "City to Surf".

This time of the morning, the main traffic had subsided, and due to the steepness of the hill, there were, as always, very few, if any, pedestrians. I heard the noise of a vehicle behind me as it laboured up the hill. It was a tourist bus, in some mechanical difficulty, streaming a dark cloud of exhaust fumes behind it. It was in the lane nearer the kerb, and I slowed to watch it approach. It was full of Asians of both sexes, who were already lining the windows, cameras ready, as they must have been informed that the spectacular views were about to appear. 

It amazes me how quickly the mind analyses certain situations. The thought of running naked beside the bus flashed into my mind. The bus itself would give me cover from any traffic coming down the hill on the other side of the road, as would the bends in the road. Traffic coming up the hill would use the outside lane to overtake the bus, and to avoid the dark fumes emanating from it. There were no pedestrians in sight. Go for it!

As I jogged, I slipped off my t-shirt, leaving it on a small tree on the nature strip. I moved from the footpath to the edge of the nature strip, as close as I could to the bus. Then I accelerated to be level with the front of the bus, as I was able to notice that my presence had already sparked some interest on the bus. I stopped briefly to remove my jogging shorts, leaving me naked but for shoes and socks. I kept my shorts scrunched up in my hand. 

I had been fast enough to strip off the shorts, so that the bus had not fully passed before I was able to continue jogging again. I jogged a little faster than the bus was travelling, to ensure that all the kerbside passengers got a good view. Having become level with the front of the bus, I slowed a little for the return viewing. I could see that those passengers from the other side of the bus, were now standing in the aisle, looking over those on the kerbside of the bus.

I repeated the acceleration/deceleration once or twice. After a little while, the somewhat shocked faces of the passengers gave way to smiles and animated chatter, as I waved to them, and they began to wave back. There was even some animated fist pumping and applause. 

Now we had come to a side street that intersected with the main road going up the hill. As we approached it, a black Mercedes neared the intersection and stopped to allow the bus to pass. It was too late for me to cover up, so as I jogged in front of the car, I noticed the open-mouthed stare of the middle-aged lady driver. I waved to her too, but got no response.

I could feel my cock and balls swinging freely slapping me on the inner thighs. I knew what an unexpected sight this must have been for the tourists expecting an entirely different view. Not long after the intersection, I stopped, put my shorts back on, and watched as the bus continued up the hill toward those views that my audience had expected to see.

I wonder how many friends and families of the tourists were entertained by the images that the tourists had managed to achieve when they had their evening get-togethers to talk about their Australian tour. I'm sure some had even got some movie footage. As I now reflect, no-one on the bus appeared to be offended in the slightest. Nudity, by itself, should not be offensive. It becomes so only when is threatening, tawdry or leaves the onlooker devoid of options.

The entire episode was over in under a minute, even less. Sometimes I think I can see the faces of those eager to commit this experience to history on film. How many talk of this experience more often, or excitedly than they do of the fabulous sights of Sydney Harbour. I guess if nudity was more common, it would lose some of its appeal.

There was no sex involved, no fetish, no submission. It was, however, incredibly enjoyable for me, and most memorable.