The neighbor boy playing basket ball

That distinctive thud thud thud, smack and metallic shake of the neighbor boy shooting hoops in his backyard.

The backyard just one thin wooden fence between his eyes and my fingers buried in my furry little beaver...

I almost wanted to keep going, right there, at the thought of it. Of him. Maybe the ball bounces into our yard. Maybe he hops up on the fence to see if anyone is here. Maybe he sees...

What would he think of this?

I bite my lip, pulling my wet fingers away, and sit up.

That's... too much. I couldn't be okay with that. Some eighteen year old kid catching me in the act right in the backyard? No. I'd literally die.

"Strip to the world..." I mumble softly, breathing deep.

I do need help with the azaleas... This isn't going well. And he's a big, strong, young man, right?

I pull myself up and my gloves off, dropping them with the trowel beside the bush. I lean down to pick up my "clothes," then, in a moment of temporary insanity, think better of it, and step over to the fence.

Naked.

Thud thud thud, smack, shake. I'm right here and he's right there.

The fence is taller than either of us, but I can't help feeling like it's barely there at all. I can see hints of movements between the planks as he goes back and forth. Can he tell if I'm here? If he was naked, could I tell?

I steel my nerve, and pull up, popping my head over.

"Hey." I smile at him under the shade of the hat, almost shaking with nerves.

"Hey." He nods, then looks back at the hoop, shooting.

"Um, I was wondering if I could get a hand with something?" I say as he misses a layup.

"Um, sure, Ivy, what's up?" He steps over to the fence. If not for these thin wooden planks, he could reach out and touch my naked body.

I'm shivering... but this is not stripped. I have to go further than this.

"We've got this azalea bush that we want to move, and I'm, haha, just a tiny little woman and I suck at this?" He grins up at me, and before I realize what's happening he drops the ball under his foot and pulls up against the fence, popping his head over.

I panic, leaning in against the fence. He glances around the yard. "That one?" He points over at where I've been digging.

"Y-yup..." I stutter. Can he tell? He can't tell. Can he?

"Where does it need to go?" He looks at me. Directly at me. Naked me. Except my mother's hat.

Pressed into the fence, my chest is hidden beneath the cross plank. He... he can't tell. I'm completely naked and he's looking right at me and has no idea.

… this is not stripped...

"Just, um, *cough*, in the, uh, the corner of the yard there?" I point awkwardly behind me as best I can without pulling away from the fence. He doesn't even flash me a confused look or anything, he just looks across the yard and nods.

"Oh, sure, I see what you mean. Ya, no problem, I'd be happy to!" He pops back down and my heart finally starts beating again.

He didn't know.

Which means it doesn't count.

My pussy screams for attention. I ignore it.

"Just a sec, let me put on some jeans." He shouts across the fence, and I hear his door slam.

I look at my "clothes" on the lawn. It's one thing to invite a teenage boy over to help with yardwork while you're in a bikini. It's an entirely different thing to do it while you're naked. And, so far, I haven't been naked, as far as he knows.

I scoop up the scarf, wrapping it back around me. I frown, the bright mid-day sun shining through the thin fabric even better than my dim bedroom lamp, my dark fur an obvious triangle behind the awkwardly-wrapped scarf. I slip the tie clip on anyways, and hear his door open.

Shit, he's fast! I scoop up the belt, turning my back to the gate, hastily wrapping it around me as I hear him pad up our drive and swing in behind me. I bite my lip, my small breasts and their unreasonably sensitive pink tips bared to the side of the yard without any teenage boys in it. What would it be to just... turn around?

I look over my shoulder, trying to think fast. "Um, I, I'm not a bikini girl, but, I wanted to get some sun is all?" I say, nervously watching him from under my sun-blocking hat as he takes in my mostly-bare backside. The scarf already feels droopy. Does he imagine I have something under it? Or can he tell that I don't? Is that disappointment in his face?

Mockery? Disgust?

His humor is my humiliation...

But he just looks... confused. "So, um, would you mind helping me with this silly makeshift alternative?" I shrug, biting my lip as I hold the belt.

"Um... okay." He nods, stepping up behind me. I twist the belt around, sliding the smooth leather across my tender nipples with a shiver I beg he doesn't notice and he takes the ends of the belt, buckling it together behind my back.

"How's that?" He asks. My tug hands holding it against my breasts, I tug gently and it slips off.

"A little tighter?" I shrug, pushing it back onto my nipples with another hopefully unnoticed shiver.

"There." He says, my breasts compressed tightly, once more bulging a little flatteringly around the thin black strip.

"Thanks!" I turn, his eyes flickering noticeably as he spots the crest of my pink nipples peeking out at him.

And he doesn't laugh...

And now he's clearly looking at my very obvious brown bush very visible through this thin fabric...

And still not laughing...

At least he can't tell how wet it is right now...

I swallow, trying to flush that thought from my mind. "I mean, it covers, like, the same as a bikini, right?" I shrug as he stares. "I mean, mostly. You can kinda see my nipples?" I point at them, trying not to shake as I do.

He doesn't react. "So, I figured, I don't own a bikini, and I can hardly go outside in my underwear, but why not enjoy the sun?"

"No, right, that, uh..." He nods, finally looking up. "That makes sense?" He looks over at the other bush, the one in the ground. "So, um, what do you need?"

"Um, so..." I try desperately to keep the flutter out of my voice. "I've already dug some around it here..." I lean over, straight legged, feet wide, gesturing unnecessarily around the base of the azalea bush, but the scarf sits steadily in place on my backside. "I was gonna just use the shovel, but I seem to be too light to actually make it go..." I smile awkwardly. He clearly got quite the glimpse through the thin fabric, but maybe not quite enough to be sure of anything.

"I can do that." He grabs the shovel and nods, sinking it in easily in the very spot I couldn't get it to budge. I frown.

"Um, and then we want to dig a hole over there..." He shoves steadily into the ground around the bush, working in a circle as I cross the lawn. "Like here?"

He looks up. "Okay, ya, I can see that." He nods, tilting the shovel back and lifting up the bush.

I was digging at that with the trowel for, like, an hour. I huff.

"Some of these roots are really in there... we might want to dig them out, I don't know if it'd be bad for the bush or something?" He shrugs, looking down at the plant.

"Oh, sure... I can do that. Wanna take care of my hole?" I pick up my gloves and pull them on, smirking to myself much too much.

"Absolutely." He doesn't get it, crossing the yard and shoving the completely wrong very hard thing into the completely wrong hole.

I get down on my hands and knees and grab the trowel, back down just as I was earlier. In fact, reaching down for these roots, my chest is nearly at ground level, my ass pointed up at him.

But the scarf refuses to budge.

"Strip to the world..." I say softly, fighting my nerves.

"You say something?" I hear him pause. Now's the time.

"Nope!" I glance back, scratching innocently at my leg, the bottom loop of scarf sliding down my thighs, baring my round, firm ass right at the eighteen year old boy not fifteen feet away from me, my furry little lips almost certainly in view between my open thighs. I try to casually scan his face as he stares unhesitatingly and unashamedly at my exposure.

My heart stops as I wait to discern a reaction, any reaction. A snicker? An upturned nose? An eye roll? An angry glare at forcing him to look at something so...

He licks his lips, raising an eyebrow, catches me looking at him, and immediately looks away, furiously digging at his hole. I bite my lip as my blood starts pumping again, and then turn back to my own hole.

Not the one that's screaming for attention, mind you. That one I leave alone to catch some sunshine...

A minute or two later, he pauses. I can feel his eyes on me again. My pussy tightens in response to the realization of him looking at me like this, and there's no way he didn't just see that...

"So, uh, Ivy, you really mean it about not going out in your underwear?" He asks oh-so-casually. Smooth operator, this one.

"I wouldn't want young boys like you to get the wrong idea, seeing a 30-something lady like me prancing around in her underwear in the backyard..." I say, making it a point not to look up, just leaving myself bared to him, thankful that the terrified shiver pulsating up and down my spine is barely escaping in my voice.

I muster all the calm I possible can. "You can't see my furry little snatch from back there, can you?" I say as if I'm asking if I've got ketchup on my face.

Silence as my heart waits a few beats for a reply. "... because my scarf here keeps falling down, and, like I said, I don't have anything under it, so there is a real risk you might have to get a glimpse of some fuzzy little pussy lips peeking out at you, if that's alright?"

"Um, ya, no, that's, um, I understand?" The teenage boy stumbles over his words as I my heart shivers and I pretend to totally nonchalantly dig in the dirt, my bared butt and "fuzzy lips" staring right at him.

"Alrighty, just let me know!" I say, moving my knee a little wider to make sure he's getting a good look, my pussy aching for me to reach back and show him even more...

I resist both directions of my painful ambivalence, keeping my backside bare while still not reaching back and playing with myself right in front of the boy, and just stay there, digging at the roots for a while longer. They're mostly clear. As clear as I'm going to get them, at least. Is he done back there? I don't hear him digging... I don't want to look. I just want to stay like this for as long as I can, remembering that look on his face...

"So..." I jump as he speaks up right behind my bare backside. I can almost imagine him really being able to see how wet I am now... "Wanna try and move it?" He finishes, my heart pounding.

"Right." I nod, rolling back, pulling lots things out of his sight. "Let's do this?" I shrug, wobbling onto the balls of my feet and trying to pull up on the bush. I lift it slowly up from the hole as the roots make quiet little cracking noises. "Mmmngh!" I struggle to keep the awkward bundle of dirt and branches steady in front of me. "A little help?"

"Oh, shit, um, fuck, right, but your, um, fuck, you're..." He stumbles over his words behind me.

"Whoa, language! C'mon, dude, give me a hand here!" I laugh, and he presses into my back, his arms sliding down mine. "This, um, this isn't what I..."

I feel his hips press into my backside, an obvious stiffness pushing through his jeans and against my bare skin, and I suddenly can't breath.

"Here we go..." His arms wrapped around me, he steadies the azaleas, and we step awkwardly back from the hold.

"I, um, you could..." All I can think about is the stiffness pressing into me. "... get the..." My voice cracks and I cough. "Get the other side, maybe?"

"Oh, right." He says, pulling off me, his stiffness gone as quickly as it arrived. I glance down as he walks around the bush.

Definitely not gone.

And then I see that something else definitely is.

My scarf is laying on the ground by the hole we just pulled the bush out of. Lifting the bush must have finally shoved it lose. And I didn't even notice!

And now, here I am, wearing nothing but a belt around my boobs and a sun hat, carrying this bush with a young guy who has an obvious erection.

Practically pointed right at me.

Not a pile of jokes aimed at me. Or a look of disgust aimed at me. Or some dismissive boredom at me.

I feel my heart fluttering as we maneuver across the yard, my scarf getting further and further away.

Strip for the world.

It must have been the adrenaline. Or some other chemical rushing through my brain, probably originating somewhere between my thighs. But I was so close to it just being everything, and it wasn't, like, awful. It was... life affirming. I just wanted to affirm more life.

Really really really wanted to...

I tried to snake some branches up between my breasts and hook the belt. Azaleas aren't very good for that kind of thing, apparently, because I very pointedly tried to shove my belt off for a good ten feet of walking across that yard and got nowhere. And now we were lowering the bush into the new hole.

Fuck it.

As we bent down, in a terrifying, thrilling, intense moment, I tugged the belt off my breasts. It fell loosely around my waist.

And then I stood there. Just a girl, standing in front of a boy.

Naked. Pink nipples and tiny titties bared. Furry little triangle exposed. Heart unsure whether to race or stop entirely.

And he's not disappointed. Or laughing. Or disgusted. Or any of that.