My Adventures Chapter – 1

Hey guys this is shubham back again with a new story. First of all thanks for the awesome feedback that you guys have been giving. I hope the responses and feedback keep pouring in at [email protected]Enjoy the story.

It is hard to identify the exact starting point of my peccadillo. It is also hard to put a precise label on it. Exhibitionism comes closest. But it isn’t exactly exhibitionism, at least not the way I generally see the word being used. I don’t think of myself as an exhibitionist because I have never really enjoyed exhibiting myself to others. At least I have never been aroused by the idea that someone is watching me and I am letting them watch me, by choice. I have never dressed too revealingly. And occasionally if my cleavage is visible through a slightly low cut top, I never go out of the way to flaunt it. If anything, I take extra efforts to avoid drawing attention to it. I have never enjoyed wearing short skirts, hot pants, backless cholis, wearing my sari low to expose my navel, and I have never liked bikinis. Most of my swimsuits are one piece.

I do like the feeling of being naked though. Always have, for as long as I can remember. Not just when I am showering or having sex, which is pretty much the only time most of us are naked. I liked being naked in other locations and occasions too. But not in front of others. At least not necessarily in front of others. Maybe close to others. But not in front of them. Which is why I can’t claim the label of exhibitionist with accuracy.

I was the only child of middle class Marwari parents growing up in a town 5 hours from Bombay. My family wasn’t exactly old school conservative but they weren’t super modern either. My parents always kept a watchful eye on me and at least growing up, I had to adhere to curfews. And although I had some male friends in school, it was made clear that I could not have a boyfriend. But that didn’t mean they just wanted to raise me to be a dutiful housewife and marry me off. I was expected to focus on my studies, build a great career, and then think about boys.

I suppose that if I really try, I could make some Freudian pop-psych excuses for my tendencies. That it was subconscious rebellion against controlling parents. Or it was my way of dealing with the rapid and occasionally shocking changes that all girls go through after hitting puberty. Or it was to compensate for not really having a sex life till much later than I wanted. Or my middle finger to a culture that enjoys exhibiting and objectifying women. But they would be just that – excuses. Over the years as I wrestled with my tendencies, indulged in them, tried to deprive myself of them. and dealt with the guilt and exhilaration that went hand in hand with them, I have realized that the excuses are not necessary. That’s just who I am. Or at least was, until that need just went away on its own.

I really love eating butterscotch ice cream, reading Camus, hiking, long distance running, mountains, 70s disco music, and among other things, I really like being naked. There were a lot of small steps leading up to my full scale embrace of the peccadillo. But the significant event with which this origin story truly starts occurred soon after I turned eighteen. In the summer of 1993.

It was a particularly scorching summer that year. Torrid! I had just taken my Class 12 board exams and was hoping to get into a good engineering college in Bombay or Pune. Now that I had turned 18, my mom insisted on finally teaching me the basics of cooking. I spent most of the day in the kitchen under her apprenticeship. Some of the time reading or listening to music. And in the evenings, I went out with my friends to movies or to the local park or cheap snacks stores that I could afford with my meager allowance.

In May, we had guests living us for about a week. My mother’s aunt and her two friends were visiting from Ahmedabad to attend some religious gathering in our town. We lived in a small apartment on the 2nd floor of a 4-floor (plus ground floor) apartment building in one of the newer neighborhoods of the town. It was a small apartment – about 600 square feet with just one bedroom. Obviously, I didn’t have a room of my own. When I was little, I used to sleep in the bedroom on the king bed with mom and dad. After I turned 10 or so, I started sleeping in the living room on a divan.

With three old ladies visiting, the apartment obviously got a little cramped. But my mom was very close to her aunt, so we had no choice but to accommodate them. My parents tried to get the ladies to take the bedroom. They politely and sternly refused saying they possibly couldn’t kick their gracious hosts out of their own bedroom. They were happy sharing the living room with me, and would sleep on “gaddis” (which are Indian style cotton stuffed thin mattresses, kinda like futon mattresses) on the floor. So that’s how the solidly middle class sleeping arrangements were finalized.

After the first night, when the ladies left for their thing, I confronted my parents.

“I cannot sleep out there again while they are here.”

“What? Who are you, Queen Elizabeth? They’re our guests. You only have to adjust for a few days.”

“But dad, they snore like train engines!”

“So? People snore, Urja. It’s a normal bodily function.”

“So is sleep, which I didn’t get any of last night.”

“Okay, you sleep inside in the bedroom with us. On a gaddi on the floor.” Mom said.

“Fine.”

But that didn’t improve things too much. The next day, my eyes red, I talked to my parents again.

“Dad, umm….don’t get mad but you snore just as bad as them.”

“What nonsense? I don’t snore!” my dad said defensively. “Not too loudly anyway. If I did snore that bad, your mother wouldn’t be able to sleep either. You are just acting like that princess from the story of the princess and the pea.”

“I have been telling you for 20 years that you snore. And snore bad.” my mom laughed and said. “Just because I have managed to adapt and ignore it doesn’t mean she will be able to do it in one night.”

“Whatever. Just deal with it, Urja. It’s only for a few more days.”

“But dad…”

“What do you want me to do? Book your highness into a hotel?”

“No….but I could spend the night at Neha’s place.”

“No way!” my dad said. “A sleepover at Neha’s? I don’t trust her. And I especially don’t trust her brother.”

Neha and her family had a bit of a reputation in our stolid middle class neighborhood. She had recently started smoking. Her mom used to smoke and drink too. And her brother who was in college was known to be a bit of a Casanova about town.

“Dad, it’s just for a few days.”

“No! Why don’t you sleep at Priti’s place instead?”

“She and her parents have gone to Nagpur for a month. There’s no one home.” my mom said.

“Kirti?”

“Her place is smaller than ours and they also have guests. Neha’s is the only option, dad.”

“You are NOT living with that family!” my dad raised his voice. Then he seemed to think of something. “Here’s an idea. Sleep on the roof.”

“On the roof?” my mom yelled. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Why, what’s wrong with that? We used to sleep on the roof of our house all the time in my family during summer. It’s nice. Looking at the stars.”

“I know. So did I. But our roof isn’t safe. It doesn’t have a parapet.”

“So? She isn’t 5 anymore to just roll off the roof and fall. And she doesn’t sleepwalk.”

“You are not forcing my only child to sleep on that parapet-less roof! You go sleep on the roof if you want! And terrorize the birds with your snoring!”

“Fine! I will sleep on the roof.”

“No wait!” I interjected.

I had been silent since they started talking about the roof because I had been thinking. Thinking naughty thoughts. On the roof. Completely alone. All night. Ah the possibilities! Of course I didn’t sleepwalk. Or roll enough to fall off the roof. This….this had potential. No, it had to be me. Not dad.

“Mom, it’s okay. I’ll sleep on the roof. It’s been so hot anyway. And dad refuses to buy an air conditioner.”

“Ohoho! Air conditioner? What else do you want, a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce? You need to start acting your age, Urja.”

“Forget the AC. I am saying I want to sleep on the roof.”

“But Urja…” mom stepped in.

“Relax mom. Dad is right. I am not a baby. And I will sleep several feet away from the edge.”

“I don’t know about this. Our building doesn’t even have a watchman. What if some vagabond sees her, comes up when she is sleeping and….”

“Mom!”

“We don’t live in Bihar! This is a safe neighborhood. And besides, she can just bolt the roof door shut when she sleeps.”

All day, I did my best to hide my excitement at the idea of sleeping on the roof. In my mind, I kept imagining different scenarios of nakedness. Until then, my boldest naked adventures had been when my parents went out for a couple of hours. I would strip naked, make sure the windows were closed, and walk around the house like that for a while. But my parents were homebodies so such opportunities were few.

At 11 PM that night, I walked up the stairs behind my dad as he carried a rolled up gaddi, bed sheet, pillow, and a blanket to the roof for me. I had with me just my walkman, a bottle of water, and a wind-up alarm clock. The roof was illuminated by two regular light bulbs on walls in opposite ends. Dad put down the bedding, made sure the bolt on the door worked and left.

“Be downstairs by 7! You have to make tea and breakfast for the guests tomorrow.”

“Yes dad.”

“Keep the door bolted. And only open it if it’s me or your mother.”

“Yes dad.”

“Only us. If one of the neighbors comes, well, they’re all generally nice people. But still, no taking chances. Refuse to open the door and ask them to talk to me.”

“Yes dad.”

“Okay. Be down by 7.” He said and left. I bolted the door behind him. And so it began.

After dad left, I waited for about 10 minutes to make sure he wasn’t coming back to give me more instructions. Meanwhile I walked around and conducted a detailed reconnaissance of my surroundings. We had lived in that neighborhood for many years so I knew it well, but I still needed to reacquaint myself with it, considering what I had in mind.

The biggest plus was that even at just four floors, our building was the tallest for about 300 meters in each direction. This was a relatively new part of town that had been just fields and barren land until 15 years ago and was still under development. So there was no one with a direct view of my roof at the same level as me for some distance. To the north of the building was open space which had only recently been approved for development by the town. That open space had some trees, some bushes, some hillocks – the typical Maharashtra countryside for about a kilometer and then there was a line of small hills. To the east was a grid of intermittent houses and empty plots. To the west were two rows of double storey houses, and then a small two-lane road which saw very little traffic at night. Beyond it were empty plots. And to the south was one big double storey house with a big garden, beyond it was another small road, and beyond it was an empty playground.

I walked around the roof to see how much of the surrounding houses and their roofs and windows I could see. I was glad to note that I could only see the adjoining houses from the absolute edge of the roof. So as long as I stayed away from the edge, I was hidden from their view. When I moved away from the edge and towards the middle, I could still see houses that were further away, so presumably I would be visible from there too. But I could hardly make out anything in too much detail in on the roofs of those houses or through their windows, which by the way, were mostly dark even then. It was the same with the tall buildings way in the distance. I couldn’t make out much about them so unless there was someone sitting in the window with binoculars, I was practically invisible to them.

I was concerned about the two light bulbs though. I was counting on the cover of darkness for my activities and although these bulbs weren’t super bright, they were still enough to illuminate anything on the roof for anyone looking in that direction. How could I turn those off? In fact who turned them off and on everyday? Were they always lit? I tried to remember.

I had been to the roof just twice before in all those years. Like my mom said, the roof didn’t have parapets, so families with kids, which was pretty much our entire building’s population, had no reason to go up there. In fact the roof used to be kept locked until a year before when there was a small comet in the sky (Swift Turtle was its name if memory serves). Once the comet started being discussed in the media, people started going up to the roof. And after the comet disappeared, I guess no one remembered to lock up the roof again. One of my visits was for watching the comet for a school assignment with a few friends, one of whom had brought her dad’s binoculars. The other time was several years ago when one of the neighbors who had a copy of the key took us kids there under the supervision of our parents to light some expensive fireworks he had won in a Diwali contest.

I tried to find switches for the light bulbs. Couldn’t see any switches. I followed the wiring as it went around the stucco wall to the edge of the building and then down. Great! Maybe the switches were in one of the top floor apartments. Even if I had planned on just sleeping and not doing anything else, having those bulbs on would have been a nuisance. I am a very light sleeper and it doesn’t take geriatric snores to rouse me. I mad a mental note to figure out how to turn the light bulbs off the next night. For that night, well, I’d just have to be extra careful and not try too much.

I walked around the roof again, to make sure I hadn’t missed anything else of note. I also noticed that the two roads near my house didn’t have much traffic at all this close to midnight. Maybe one vehicle every five minutes or so. In a couple of hours, I was sure the road would be almost completely empty. On the roof itself, there wasn’t much. There were some old discarded pipes in one corner next to an old steel trunk. Out of curiosity, I opened the trunk and saw it was half full of some old rusty tools like hammers and spanners. I remembered that the building had changed some piping a couple of years ago. Maybe the workers had left behind their old tools that no one bothered to discard.

Satisfied with the reconnaissance mission, I sat down on the bedding and looked around. Yup, from that angle, the closest thing I could see was about a kilometer away. I laid down, and all I could see was the dark sky, stars, and the top of the hills in the distance. I covered myself with the blanket. Then threw it off. Although it wasn’t very hot at night, it still was too warm for a blanket. And I lay there, contemplating the full extent of what I was planning to do. I was dressed in my usual sleeping clothes, which consisted of track pants and a cotton t-shirt.

As I replayed in my mind some of the naked fantasies I had had recently, my hand slipped into my track pants and inside my panties. Gently, I started teasing my clit. I had discovered masturbation relatively recently. Living in a tiny apartment with homebody parents meant I barely had any privacy for it. My only options were during shower or late at night in bed. Here, in the open, it felt even more thrilling. And the first time, I brought myself off pretty quickly.

I checked the clock. It was close to midnight. I mentally went over the broad plan I had formed for the night. I would sleep for a couple of hours. Set an alarm for 2:30 AM. By this time, I guessed almost everybody in my timezone would be fast asleep. At that point….well…I’d see what to do. I set the alarm, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep. Tried. very hard. Counted sheep, counted the stars in the sky, but to no avail. I was too excited about the night to sleep. So I just lay there, staring at the stars and making mental checklists.

Out of habit, my hand went behind my back to the clasp of my bra. I slept with the bra on at night, but usually unhooked it and then hooked it back again on waking up. I had only started doing this recently. My growth spurt had come relatively later than other girls. And in the last year or so, my boobs had grown about one size and started filling out too. I usually slept on my side, and the bra had started feeling very uncomfortable recently as gravity pushed the growing mass of my boobs against the cups and put strain on the straps. So I unhooked the bra.

Then I had a thought. Why not just take it off completely? Laying there, I was virtually invisible anyway. So I pulled the bra out of my t-shirt sleeves and put it under my pillow. My nipples rubbed against the shirt front and I realized they were hard. There. First step. When I came up, I was wearing four articles of clothing. Now it was just three. That turned me on again. So I slipped my hand into my panties again. But then stopped. I needed to pace myself. And I also needed some motivation to go through with what I wanted. So I made a resolution. I would not masturbate again until I was completely naked.

A while later, I sat up. The clock said it was almost 1 am. For almost an hour, all I had heard was the occasional sound of a passing vehicle. And that too, just a handful of times. No one had come or gone out of my building based on the total science. The world seemed completely asleep. And from where I saw sitting, I was nearly invisible to anyone in a viewable radius. Even with the dim light bulbs on. Okay…time for the next step.

In one swift motion I took my t-shirt off. And was completely topless. No bra, no shirt. I slowly reclined back. My boobs….oh to have that firmness back again….looked magnificent to me. Staring at the stars, I spelled out what had just happened. I was on the roof of my building, topless. In a society where, at least back then, even tank tops were considered too risque, I was topless. My boobs were out in the open.

I got used to that feeling and then considered moving around the roof. Where I was was so invisible, I might as well have been topless in a closed bathroom. But I couldn’t bring myself to just stand up. What if by chance, someone was on the roof of one of the houses and saw me? So I got on all fours and started crawling. My boobs swung back and forth as I crawled. I reached the eastern edge of the roof and peered over. All was quiet and dark. Except for the street lights in the distance and one porch light on a house a couple of blocks away, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

Slowly, I rose while still in my knees. There. Now I was in full view of anyone watching from the east. Which of course, no one was. I got down on all fours and crawled to the southern edge. Kneeled there for a minute. Then the Western edge. Kneeled there too. By the time I crawled to the northern edge, I was feeling a lot bolder. Plus, there were no houses or buildings to the north. It was just open space. I peered carefully and made sure no one was there either. And then, heart pounding loudly, I stood up. The light from the bulbs was the dimmest here so it was like I was in the dark.

I stood like that, continuously scanning the surroundings to make sure no one walked out of their house or drove up to my building or something. Nothing. A few minutes went by. I was getting really turned on. My nipples were harder than I had ever known them to be. I desperately needed release. But I had also promised myself something about that. But was it too early to take the next step?

That’s when I had a tiny epiphany. Let’s say someone did see me. How much of a difference would it make in terms of scandalousness whether I was topless or naked? Not much. So once I was showing something, what difference did it make if I was showing everything?

My hands went to my waist and started pushing my pants and panties down by themselves. I wasn’t telling them to, not consciously. They were doing it anyway. And soon, I was completely naked. I stepped out of my pants. And stood there, naked as the day I was born.

I was so horny that I didn’t have the patience to even return to the bedding. I just sprawled out near the southern age, feeling the harsh concrete floor rub against my ass and my back as I started fingering myself again. And I came really really hard. Harder than every before. Thankfully I am not a vocal cummer or it would have woken up the entire neighborhood. And after cumming once, I wasn’t done. I just stayed there, naked, and brought myself off once more. Wow, this had been easier and faster than I had expected, I thought to myself as I stared at the stars. Then I saw one of the stars moving. It was a satellite, I realized. Heh, technically whoever was operating that satellite could see me, naked and sprawled on the roof of my building. Only if they knew where to point their lens.

I got up to walk back to the bedding, my pants in my hand. That’s when there was the faint sound of an engine in the distance. Instantly, I dropped to hands and knees. It was a motorcycle on the road to the West. he kept driving straight. It’s not likely that he could have noticed me from that distance and in the dim light. As I crawled back to the bedding, the light from the bulbs got brighter. And I felt really conscious. I had to figure out how to turn them off soon. Once on the bed, I put my clothes back on. I was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. I put my head on the pillow, shut my eyes, and before I knew it I was dreaming.

I woke up in panic to a shrill sound. Shit! I had forgotten to turn the alarm off! I quickly reached for it and silenced it. In the utter silence of the night, the alarm had sounded cacophonous. It seemed loud enough to have woken up the entire building if not the neighborhood. I lay there listening for any signs of movement in the vicinity. But all was quiet. I walked around the roof and surveyed the surroundings again. Everything looked as calm and deserted as an hour ago.

Time for an encore. I stripped off my clothes, this time standing in the spot where the light from the bulbs was the brightest. It seemed like the natural next step. Looking back, I realized that I had the concepts of gradually taking slightly bigger and bigger risks down from the beginning. Baby steps. But while each step was small, I also seemed to be taking the steps in quick succession. In a couple of hours, I had gone from feeling proud of being bra-less while horizontal on the floor to being completely naked while standing with light bathing me.

I walked to the edges pretty rapidly again, this time confident that no one was around to see me. I strolled around the roof for ten minutes and another big milestone came when a car passed along the Western rode, but instead of panicking, I just stepped behind a wall. And when the car had receded into the distance, continued my walk. During this leisurely walk, I thought a lot more about what I was doing, how awesome it was, and also how dead I would be if caught. I played with my boobs, rubbing my nipples. I swayed my ass a little while walking, running my hands over it a few times.

After about four slow rounds of the roof, I stood near the door of the roof. It was bolted. Without really making a conscious decision or having a concrete plan about what to do next, I started opening the bolt. It was tight and rusty so made a short screeching sound. That made my heart jump out of my mouth and I looked around me again to make sure there were no spectators for my adventure. A minute later when there was no movement or action, I gradually opened the door.

What was I doing? What was the plan here? I asked myself. Just explore a little, I answered myself. I stepped into the tiny space at the top of stairs. From where I stood, there were just walls around me and one flight of stairs going down. After that flight, the stairs turned 180 degrees, and 15 steps down – humanity. Three doors. Neighbors. Moms and dads and grandpas and grandpas and kids. People I had known most of my life.

I sat down on the step at the top of the stairs, my breasts swaying as I did so. A minute later, still in the sitting position, I slid one step further down. Then another. Then another. Until I was at the end of my “safe silo” so to say, the zone from where I was completely invisible. Now to proceed further, I would have to turn around the concrete banister. I got on my hands and knees and poked my head around it first. The floor was illuminated with a white fluorescent tube light. The doors were shut. Another step and I could walk down the stairs. And if by chance if someone heard me and opened the door, they would catch me completely naked. What would my mom and dad say? Or do? They’d probably marry me off to the first match they could find.

Suddenly, I lost nerve, and sprinted back up the stairs to the safety of the roof. I bolted the door shut behind me. Got dressed and tried to fall asleep. Soon, I had succeeded.

Hope you guys enjoyed the first part. It was just the beginning. There is much more coming so stay tuned and don’t forget to drop a mail on [email protected] for any feedback and responses.