The Closet Exhibitionist
First Exposure — The closet
I rolled out of bed and wandered through to the kitchen without stopping to get dressed.
I woke to the sound of my flatmate closing the door and smiled to myself. Much as I enjoyed his company I still preferred those rare moments where I had the apartment to myself. My bed was warm and comfortable and I was in no hurry to be anywhere in particular. I lay there, fading in and out of sleep as my imagination ran through an increasingly depraved series of fantasies involving my fellow students and one particularly inappropriate scene featuring a lecturer I really shouldn’t be contemplating. When I finally came to full consciousness I was aware of a dull throb coming from my groin and the certain knowledge that sooner or later I would need to satisfy that particular urge. I decided to practice delayed gratification and hold the thought for the shower later, that way I knew my climax would be considerably more intense. Instead I concentrated on the next pressing need, coffee.
Knowing the flat was empty, I rolled out of bed and wandered through to the kitchen without stopping to get dressed. The familiar routine of preparing the coffee machine helped to distract my subconscious enough to deflate the swelling and reduce the urgency of the ache. With the machine making its welcome burbling noises and beginning to emit the familiar aroma of fresh coffee I moved around the flat throwing the curtains open and feeling the warm rays on my skin. It was one of those spring mornings where the sun was hinting at future summer heat as it burned away the memory of a long, dark winter. I paused in the centre of the living room, eyes closed, revelling in the sunlight and riding the cold wave of goosebumps it raised on my arms.
The coffee machine drew me from my thoughts by emitting a final gurgling hiss as it drained the last of the water. Our flat wasn’t large but it had one outstanding feature, a south facing balcony that looked out onto the small garden we shared with the other 5 flats in the block. The balcony itself had a waist high wall around it and was theoretically large enough to hold a double mattress if it wasn’t for the small table and chairs that we had out there. I had discovered some time ago that is was possible to sit out there and be invisible to the rest of the world.
Grabbing a mug of the steaming, bitter brew and my book, I made my way to the door that opened onto the balcony. I was determined to enjoy the morning light for a while before showering and facing the rest of the day. The aluminium chair was cold against my back so I grabbed the first thing I could find, a small towel, from the kitchen and used it to insulate my back from the metal. I was soon lost in my book, sipping my drink sparingly and poring over the pages as the story unfolded. I hadn’t noticed the breeze that was slowly building until the door beside me slammed closed. The bang brought me crashing back to reality and I stood up to reopen the door. The handle wouldn’t move.
Through the glass I could see that the key was in the lock and had a sudden sinking realisation that I was now locked outside of the flat, on a first floor balcony, stark naked with only a hand towel and a paperback to protect my modesty.
Fear gripped me. How would I explain this to my flatmate and what would happen if he came home with company? Worse still, what would happen if I was seen out here? I’d never live it down. As the initial wave of panic subsided I began to think more clearly. The flat was equipped with a combination lock on the front door so I wouldn’t need a key. Having established that I would be able to get back into the flat through the front door I simply had to work out how to get there from my current position on a balcony the wrong side of the building without being seen.
Standing at the balcony I picked up the only thing available for some kind of cover, the towel. Pulling it around my waist I discovered there was just enough material to form a makeshift sarong, albeit with a gaping split that left one thigh exposed and only allowed a single knot. If I was really lucky it would hold and cover the most important region, albeit only just.
The next challenge was how to reach the ground. Looking over the edge of the balcony I worked out that if I climbed over the edge and let myself hang from the bottom rail I would only have to drop 5 feet or so onto grass. From my vantage point the ground looked a long way down. The thought of breaking an ankle whilst wearing nothing but a small towel caused my pulse to race and my balls to shrink to walnuts as they attempted to hide from danger.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves I climbed onto the first railing. It wobbled under my weight and I began to wonder if it would hold me at all. I held my breath, afraid to move but the railing held firm so I raised one foot over the top and froze, gripping the wood so tightly I thought I might leave finger impressions. Steadying my nerves I brought my other leg over the top and began to lower myself down the other side. Pulse pounding in my ears, I steeled myself to take my feet from the last support. I gripped the railing with sweaty palms, letting my feet dangle past the balcony floor and hang in free space. There was no going back now.
I lowered myself a little, gripping the next slat on the railing. My waist was now level with the balcony floor and a gentle breeze caused the towel to flap, straining the barely adequate knot. I breathed a sigh of relief as it held. Lowering myself another rail, the breeze tugged at the material again and this time I realised, with a sickening feeling, the knot wasn’t going to hold. The material slipped and fell, fluttering to the floor, leaving me dangling naked.
I hoped that no one was home in the flat below or they’d have a horrific sight filling their window. Hurriedly lowering myself past the last few rails my hands reached the lip of the balcony. I hung there just long enough to be sure of my footing before dropping to the grass and crouching while I looked for the towel.
The towel was snared on a rose bush between where I crouched and the nearest window. As I stood to retrieve it I glanced through the window and saw the backs of two heads poking above a sofa. If either of them had turned around or the sofa were facing the other way they’d have had a real eye full.
Fingers trembling I reached for the cloth, stretching for it as I eased forwards. I felt a sharp stab in my stomach when a thorn pressed against me Disaster! The towel was out of reach unless I was prepared to clamber into the middle of a thorny bush. I was now completely naked and stranded outside with no hope of covering my modesty. The colour drained from my cheeks as terror filled me and I sank to a crouch behind the rose bushes, trying to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
I scanned the garden, frantically looking for something I could use to cover myself. I’d always been proud of the uncluttered garden but right at this moment I would have been glad of a few random objects. About to give up on the hopes of finding anything, a flash of yellow stuck in the hedge caught my eye. It was a frisbee, left where it landed when the kids in the garden next door had thrown it over the fence: Hardly ideal but it would save me from pushing into the vicious spikes of the roses. I dashed across the garden and snatched it from the bush, wielding it like a tiny shield I used it to protect my modesty as much as possible.
In order to reach the front door I had to choose one of two routes. I could go out of the side gate, through the parking area and along the short road that connected it to the building, which risked bumping into someone in a very public area. Or I could walk past two ground floor flats, at least one of which I knew was occupied, and the laundry room. Knowing how close I’d come to being seen a moment ago, I decided the parking route would be the least risky.
The run to the rear gate was easy and I soon stood there, glancing furtively around the wall to see if the coast was clear. There was no one in sight so I slipped through the gate and started to make my way between the cars. I had made it halfway through when I heard a sound that made my heart sink and a fresh wave of terror wash over me. A car was approaching. I crouched low, hiding between a couple of parked cars and peeking through the windows. A battered van came slowly into sight and eased to a stop, parking just three bays from me.
I watched, holding my breath as I waited for the occupants to leave while hoping desperately that they wouldn’t pass me. To my surprise and considerable relief, no one emerged. I counted to ten silently, time crawling, each second stretching inexorably but still the doors didn’t open. I risked a closer look.
There was no one in the front seats but I realised the van was a design that meant the driver could go into the back without opening the doors. The sound of springs creaking caught my attention and as I watched the van started to rock rhythmically. I smiled to myself. Guessing what the occupants were up to, I didn’t waste any more time and dashed past the rocking vehicle towards my flat and safety.
The tarmac felt hot and rough under my feet as I ran, the frisbee clutched protectively providing confidence, despite the minimal cover it afforded. Adrenaline coursed through me and by the time I reached the entrance to the building I found myself grinning like a loon. Unbelievably I seemed to be actually enjoying my current predicament.
I punched the access code into the keypad and grabbed for the door which was stiff and it took both hands to open so I dropped the disc and yanked the door open. I stepped through, letting the door slam noisily behind me and leaving the frisbee outside. I shot up the short flight of shared stairs that led to the door of the flat without bothering to attempt any cover, more interested in recovering to the safety of the flat as quickly as possible and hoping that I wouldn’t meet my neighbours on the way.
I reached my door without bumping into anyone and was soon nestled in the sanctity of my flat once more. Letting out a huge sigh of relief I glanced down and was mortified to realise that I was fully aroused. When that had happened I had no idea but at some point during the adventure my subconscious had clearly become very turned on by my predicament and I now had a throbbing erection that demanded my attention.
I headed for the shower to ponder the implications of my reaction and to satisfy my body’s urgent need.
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