Another risky story…but also narcissistic

[StripPoker]

One more story and then I think I’m done – I really don’t want to dominate this forum. This one still has an element of risk, but I admit from the outset that it’s a bit narcissistic.

So, this must be 30 years ago – don’t worry, I’m now old enough to vote. I was in a pub band – strictly amateur – and had borrowed an ancient video recorder and camera to record one of our gigs. The camera was so old that it needed a spotlight.  If you stood directly in front of it, you’d have burnt your corneas out!  After the gig, the video recorder kicked around my house where I was still living with my Dad.

I was lonely, in between girlfriends and horny as hell. As before where I’d stripped all my soaking-wet clothes off in the kitchen, and had ripped all my clothes off in my bedroom, I started to fantasise about stripping nude on camera?  One thing that always bothered me about photo spreads in magazines was that the luscious and pouting models would strip most of their clothes off, but their clothes would vanish from the floor or the bed or wherever they were stripping?  I always wanted to see their discarded clothes on the floor. I also got annoyed when they didn’t strip completely nude, more often than not keeping their shoes on.

One day, the house empty, I set the camera and spotlight at the top of the stairs, angled down to the hallway. I was turned on already! I dressed in my dark blue suit, white shirt, navy tie and Crombie coat. The scenario was that I’d just come home from an important meeting – I set the timer on the recorder to give me a 2-minute start, then went downstairs and waited outside the front-door. I heard the echoing click as the recorder started and entered the hall. I had rehearsed this a dozen times in my head – I loitered by the hallway window, making sure nobody was coming home…then proceeded to perform a slow-striptease…my coat slipped off, my tie slowly undone and dropped to the floor,  my suit jacket almost carelessly taken off, my shoes, my socks…then my shirt slowly unbuttoned, falling off my shoulders…sliding out my belt…holding it at arm’s length and letting that fall to the floor. Unzipping my suit trousers…oh, they fell to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear.  As ever, my erection pushed hard against the soft fabric and so I slowly slipped my underwear off, letting them pivot over my erection and slip down my legs where, delightfully nude and barefoot, I stepped out of them…my clothes all discarded around me.  One moment completely dressed…the next, after a 20-minute striptease…completely naked.

Also as before, what if someone had come home? How would I have gathered up all my clothes, and grabbed all the video-equipment at the top of the stairs and quickly stashed it in my bedroom?  What if I hadn’t been able to? How would I have explained what was going on?

But I was able to gather up all my clothes, dismantled the equipment and, still naked, watched the video back…like I say, narcissistic but great fun. I eventually had several tapes of similar stripteases. I wiped the tapes a few years later but I remember them very fondly, recalling the adrenalin rush and the genuine and very real risk of being caught.  Life now is completely predictable and boring.  That’s partly why I’m on this forum – to hear other peoples’ experiences (@enfDiana)!

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[Martin]

<p>Life is now predictable and boring … but would you do the same again if you had the location? </p>

[StripPoker]

Ah, probably not…it was a long time ago.  I was young thin and virile then.  Now? Not so much…

[John]

Keep going, most of us told a lot of stories when we joined and we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t find these stories interesting 🙂

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