(Mid 1980s) It was the summer before I left for college. I was at my parents’ house on Hilton Head Island, and had been looking for new adventures I could bring to life around the house. We had an outdoor shower next to the utility yard. It was uncovered because it was intended to be used by people in swimsuits rinsing off the sand when returning from the beach (common in resort communities like ours). But I fantasized about having a proper shower outdoors. This came together one morning after I spent some time lying in bed, naked, revving myself up while waiting to hear my parents leave for work. When I knew they had both gone, I got out of bed, grabbed the soap and shampoo from the bathroom and walked right out the back door and around the corner to the side of the house where the shower was located.

After rebounding from my experience at the hotel (part 3), I was in a special mood, brimming with confidence. I did not bring a towel, or even peek out the windows to be sure the coast was clear. I just bravely walked out with purpose. I knew the shower could not be seen by the neighbors for the trees, and was blocked from the street because of the walls around the utility yard. That is where the trash cans were hidden behind little walls to keep the resort looking nice. I took a short shower, half hoping and half afraid of being discovered. It was exciting, but it did not last as long as I wanted because the water was just too cold.

Shortly after dripping my way back into the house, I heard the garbage truck. My heart raced. I had given no thought to that it was trash day. We were not allowed to put the cans out near the street. The garbage men had to retrieve the trash from everyone’s utility yard. If I had taken my shower a bit later, they may have caught me. Although, I most likely would have heard the truck over the running water. But this started an idea that I knew right then I would make happen.

I was so impatient for the next collection day. My excitement was building the whole week. I did not think the men would report me. If they did, I would tell my mom that I had so much sand in my bathing suit that I had to take it off, and I thought I would be safe with the reasonably private shower.

Knowing I would be just around the corner from the trash cans, only a few feet from the men while naked and soapy wet, got me dizzy with excitement. And unlike some of my other ideas, I knew I would go through with it. Not even the cold water would deter me. I planned to pretend I could not hear them because of the water and would just keep showering. My fantasy was to be seen – watched. But I knew it was more likely they would duck away with embarrassment.

When the day finally arrived, I ran to the window the minute my parents had both left the house. I waited there nervously dancing until finally hearing the truck. As it made its way down our street, I ran to position. I don’t remember the water being as cold this time. I showered for what seemed like forever while waiting for them to arrive at our house. I didn’t want to look, thinking they would be more likely to watch if they thought I didn’t know. So, I tried catching sly glimpses in their direction, but saw no sign of them.

After a while, I decided it had been too long. They must have turned back when they heard the shower. I started to look up and caught sight of a pair of boots near the door to the utility yard. They were pointed right at me. He was so close. Quickly looking way, I was hit with a pounding pressure in my head. I thought I was going to burst. I kept showering, but was so nervous I stopped breathing and had to focus just to catch my breath. It was incredibly intense. With no doubt he had seen me, I was overwhelmed with erotic stimulation. It was far more powerful than I had imagined. I felt on the edge of an orgasm, and feared I would pass out.

Soon I heard the cans being moved. The pressure slightly ebbed. They had caught me, but they are just continuing with their job. I began to catch my breath, but my head was still pounding. I thought to peek up a bit more to see them taking the cans to their truck, but as I started to look, I could see he was still there watching me. Thrilling for sure, he was only a few feet away, but this was when I realized things could go much different than I had planned. What if he enjoyed my show too much and decided to do something about it? I was filled with so many conflicting emotions.

As I wondered what to do now, I peeked again to find him gone. I looked up farther to watch them leave but saw no one. This was my chance to retreat, but I couldn’t. The overwhelming satisfaction overtook my fear. I could not end it.  So, I stood on my tippy toes to look over the walls. He was farther away now but looking right at me. Locking eyes with him, I let out a little involuntary screech and covered my mouth. He looked off to the side and put both his hands up, as if I had pulled a gun on him. Neither of us moved for a moment. He seemed more scared than I. Then his partner came up the walk returning the cans. They could not see much of me now as I was tucked up tight to the little wall I was peeking over. Not knowing what to do next, I just smiled at them. The one smiled back with eyebrows raised, but kept his hands up. The partner just kept looking down and shook his head while replacing the cans. I wanted them to know it was okay. So, I said, “Thank you.” and they both backed away while waving their hands – not in the way of goodbye, but more as if to shoo me away. They said nothing.

By their expressions, I believe they found this a confusing but positive encounter. I think they were gesturing away any guilt on their part, or perhaps suggesting I should not be out here like this. After they turned and moved farther down the walk, I realized this went better than I had hoped. I was still not ready for it to end. Just before they reached their truck, I stepped out from behind the wall, in case they looked back one more time. They did. I struck a cute pose and gave a little wave. The more engaging one raised his hand to his forehead and went to his truck.

I turned off the water and scurried around the corner into the house. From the front window I watched the truck continue down the street. Then I dropped to the floor and rolled around on my mother’s soft white carpet, overwhelmed with excitement and pleasure. It could not have gone better.

I immediately began plotting to do it again next week. That thought lasted for a few days, but I eventually decided not to push my luck. Probably best they thought it was an accident. I was realizing my antics could give someone the wrong idea and get me in trouble. Although, when lying in bed each morning, I would still fantasize about Tom Selleck – or now, sometimes, a couple of sanitation workers…

It is rare to have all go as well or better than planned. And even though I would go on to much more daring and intense adventures, this remains one of my most stimulating experiences ever.