Cover Up!

Today I went out to pick up fresh produce and stuff to make salads. It's going to be over 100° tomorrow and Thursday, so cool salad dinners are must. As we all do these days, I called a couple of friends asking if they needed anything. Trouble's mom needed something, so I made note.

Since I was going out in public, I tossed on a mini sundress, instead of just a t-shirt. In keeping with my "no pants" week rule, I skipped the panties.

I grabbed my purse, headed out, and hit the button open the garage door. As the door opened, there appeared two pretty bare legs, feet in flip-flops, a tiny pair of short shorts, and a belly-baring crop top, all attached to --- yeah, you guessed it -- Trouble. She wanted to go with me. She grinned and held the mask I made for her to her face: Wonder Woman. "Okay, hop in the car," I said, and ran back into my casita. Rummaging through my pantie drawer I found a pair to match my dress, and slipped them on.

Although Trouble has seen me skinny dipping, along with her mom and aunt, I am not ready for her to catch glimpses of my bare pussy at the supermarket.

Facebook's Stupid Censorship

Here is yet another example of Facebook's ridiculous censorship. My friend Roxxie Neville was banned from Facebook for a week for posting this photo that supposedly violates "community standards." I posted a video of Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively kissing from "A Simple Favor" with no problem.

Giving Away the Pink

     No, not me. I wish were that cute at 12! I did have the hair.

Sometimes the question comes up, “When did you lose your virginity?” As if virginity was an object, a thing that can be lost and not found. Or worse, it could be something that might be taken.

I gave mine away, happily, when I was 12 years old.

I was visiting an older cousin with whom I had been “playing doctor” since I was about 8 or 9. We started out hiding in a closet, showing each other our girl and boy bits and playing with each others’ butts. I  am not sure why butts fascinated us so, but we did spank each other and that still thrills me.

As we grew older, we graduated to a playhouse his father built for him in the back yard. It was there at the tender age of 10 I discovered my clit. And about the same time, I watched, for the first time, my cousin jerk off and squirt cum. That has stayed with me too. I love to watch, as I say, “stuff come out.”

On a warm California summer day, in the playhouse, my cousin and I found ourselves fondling each other. No, we weren’t like boyfriend/girlfriend or anything like that. We didn’t kiss. We didn’t crush on each other. As odd as it may seem, we were just cousins playing, as we always had, with each others’ bodies.

We knew about fucking and other things that teenagers and adults did. Well, we knew a little, not really much. But we did know enough to be intensely curious. And that is what it was – simple, childish curiosity. My cousin wanted to put his penis inside me. So, I let him.

It hurt like hell. But, yeah, you know, somehow it sorta felt okay. I was splayed out on a small table, my cousin was standing, so I could look down and see him penetrate me. That interested me as much as anything. It didn’t last long. After a couple of thrusts that went deeper than my tiny fingers had ever gone, my cousin pulled out and came all over my belly and t-shirt.  We looked at each other and started laughing, cracking up, feeling utterly silly. I did wonder why I didn’t get more than a sore vagina. It didn’t seem fair that my cousin got a “cookie” and I didn’t.

That single event changed my life. I never had to deal with middle school and high school angst of “losing it.” I already had. So it freed me to do it. And I did. You could say I was precocious and promiscuous from 8th grade on.

I stopped playing like that with my cousin a few months later. I got my period just before turning 13. That changed things somehow.

He’s happily married with kids, a successful entertainment attorney. We are still close. Occasionally, at family get-togethers, he’ll catch my eye and give me a little smile. I’ll smile back, knowing what he is thinking because I am too.

Saying Good-bye to Pants This Week

Those who know me are aware of my “Recycle Monday” tradition of rolling the recycle bin to the curb “bottomless.”

This week, I’m going to try a variation of “bottomless” by wearing nothing but a t-shirt, top or shirt, or anything that can pass for a micro mini dress every day through Saturday. Panties may or may not be worn, depending on what is going on any particular day.

This is my way of staying moderately sane while sheltering-at-home. I still get to satisfy my shy exhibitionism while walking or biking around the neighborhood. And, If I have to go to the market or somewhere “necessary,” I get the thrill of being out, dressed to tease.

Yes, I know this behavior is, at best, a little perverted. But I am careful and never impose my odd habits on anyone. My friends indulge me and know this is a part of who I am, and embrace me – well not since the virus, but you know what I mean.

I'll start out simply today with a t-shirt dress that is just long enough to cover me when I go outside.
Of course, if I go swimming I'll wear a swim suit.

The Panty Week

Tomorrow is my last day to wear only boyshort panties with a top no matter where I go or what I do. I'm going to miss selecting the panties to wear, wondering how people will react, deciding if they can pass for cute short shorts, and reveling in how naughty they make me feel. I've been relishing the rush, the adrenaline, the heart pounding as people notice the tiny boyshorts and the look on their faces as they seem to be wondering, "what is she wearing?" I still have time today for an afternoon walk or a short bike ride this evening in panties. Then tomorrow, I'll likely wear a swim suit most of the day. Spending the day in a suit suit is close to the panty experience, but different. Anyways, it's been a week of silly fun and exposure. I'll keep working on finding ways to amuse myself during sheltering-at-home. Suggestions?

The Pool is Open!

My neighborhood association pool committee (including me) met with our pool maintenance reps today gathering around our little oasis, 10 ft. apart, to ensure we all understood CDC guidelines for pool safety during the COVID-19 crisis. Good news! Everyone agreed that all chemical levels, including chlorine and bromine, would be checked morning, noon, and night (overkill we know) since the water is now 72° and the daily air temps will reach over 100° this weekend. Pools use more chemicals the higher the water temperature. We set the rules for social distancing at the pool - 10 ft. apart not just six for extra safety because of chaise loungers, umbrellas, tables. etc. Also, no more than 10 people can use the pool at a time.The entire neighborhood agreed later via a Zoom meeting, so the pool is open!

I did break my "panties only" rule of the week and slipped into a swim suit for the meeting and to take my first official dip of the season. Several neighbors joined in. A few of use are going to gather at sunset for a "not closer than 10 feet" tequila toast to swim season.

Sheltering in my little casita-on-the-desert. Be safe, be well.

Sheltering at Home and a Costco Story

I'm sheltering at home at home and grading papers. Not much news since my outing yesterday wearing only a pair of boyshort panties and a top.

I did get lucky at Costco. I stopped in the early morning, on my way to several errands, and the line to get in was around the building and snaked through the parking lot. A big sign read, "Out of toilet paper, paper towels, Clorox wipes ...." So I drove off, a little disgusted with the lines of hoarders. Then, later, I stopped back by. There was no line, no sign, so I went in. The entire back of the store was lined with toilet paper, paper towels and other paper products. Go figure. Those who would bull rush the store got nothing and those who waited, got what they needed.

Wishing I Could Get Out

I find myself longing to get out and have some public fun!

Boyshorts Bicycle Ride

I told my Facebook friends that I would wear a pair of boyshort panties as outerwear all week, starting today. The goal is to wear a different pair, along with a top of course, every day of the week, no matter if I stay at home or have to go out for a necessary errand.

This morning I didn't have a necessary errand, but I needed to get outside. I do this a few times a day for my sanity. Since it wasn't too warm yet -- a wonderful 74° -- a bicycle ride seemed the thing to do.

For my ride, I chose a pair of fully ruffled boyshorts (sometimes called tennis panties) and a cotton tank. I started off riding around the neighborhood and saw a few neighbors who waved as I rode by. Then I took off through a nearby park – yes, I am so lucky to have parkland all around my casita – and rode another three miles or so. There were quite a few people out getting their exercise. I didn’t get any stares, but I did get a few turnaround glances and smiles.

Heading home, I saw Trouble and her mom walking about a block from my casita. I waved from the distance, not really wanting to explain my outfit. I’m kind of wondering if either even noticed.

So, day one of “boyshorts week” is, so far, exhilarating.

Low-Rise Whims

This morning I posted a short note on Facebook about wearing “boyshorts” panties in public as cute, girly short shorts. I think I may have way too much time on my hands.

Anyway, for the blog today, I’ll advocate the ongoing return of low-rise jeans, pants, and shorts. I enjoy the low-rise look and exposure even with the little tummy I’ve developed. And showing a little butt cleavage is always fun – not too much, just a little. If a pretty pair of panties peek out, that can be adorable (or sleazy), it's tricky. I prefer lace or some such, not a nasty thong strap.

 One thing for sure, a girl has to keep in shape to wear the look.

A friend on Facebook likes ultra low-rise jeans as well. She reports that when the rise is minimal, there is not much to keep them from drifting too low. That’s true, a girl has to pay close attention to that drift.

I’m committed to wearing only “boyshorts” for the next week per my Facebook post, even if I have to go out for groceries or an important errand. Maybe in the following week, I’ll walk the neighborhood or run an errand wearing my naughtiest low-rise pants.

A shy exhibitionist has to keep herself amused, right?

Fourteen

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Easter and Trouble Free

The day after Easter is just another day. For that matter, Easter was just another day this year. I spent the day alone grading a few papers, cleaning house, puttering around the complex pool, and walking a few miles in the desert. Finally, I treated myself to pork chops (guilty pleasure) and Zoomed with family.

One day is so like another now.

My little friend Trouble ended her grounding from her mom this morning. She popped by not too long after I put my recycle bin out. I was still in my panties and top. Trouble didn’t seem to care as she had boy problems to discuss. We sipped orange juice on my patio and talked. Well, she talked and talked, I just listened, mostly.

So, another day. I sing the Beatles’ song "Ob la di, o-la-da" a lot lately.

Tracking Amazon Delivery

Did you know you can track the delivery of your Amazon packages and know almost to the minute when they will arrive? You can view a map and watch the progress of the delivery van on its way.

With stay-at-home directives in place, I find I look forward to Amazon deliveries. I appreciate the dedication of the Amazon drivers. As I was tracking a package today, I decided to have a little naughty fun. A couple of minutes before the delivery would arrive, I put on a teeny-tiny string bikini and waited in the driveway. Right on time the van pulled up and the driver hopped out. He grinned as he handed me a box and said, "This job is getting better and better."

He drove off happy, I think. And, you know, so was I.

Shopping Essentials

I had to run some shopping errands today for myself and a neighbor. Infection control suggests it is best to cover-up -- long sleeves, pants, and such, in addition to wearing a mask on your face. As I was dressing, my exhibitionist side screamed inside me, wanting to tease, needing to show something. So, out came a pair of my ultra low-rise jeans. In the four stores I visited -- which were not crowded at all -- only three people showed any sign of noticing. I still had fun displaying a little tush cleavage though.

Only about half of the people I saw wore face masks. I wanted to see more. Lucky me, I found two N95 masks in my cleaning closet that I had bought for gardening and and garage chores a couple of years ago.

Recycle Monday

I was feeling frisky this morning, so slipped on sheer little top to roll the recycle bin to the curb. It was fairly early, so the sun was just coming up. I didn't see anyone immediately, but I heard something in desert off to the side of my casita. Quietly, I moved slowly toward the sound. I couldn't believe what I saw -- a four point white tail buck with a doe. They both froze, looking straight at me the way deer do when they are not sure of what they see. I didn't move, or even breathe for a few moments. The deer spooked, as did I, when I heard a camera click behind me. Two neighbors had silently walked over to the see the deer too and one was clicking pictures on his phone as fast as he could. The deer ran off, leaving me standing there, all but naked in my flimsy top. I could feel myself blushing brightly and my pulse pounding. Moreover, I realized that my neighbor had been shooting pictures of more than the deer! I dropped my hands to cover my girl bits as best I could, said something like "goodness, I better get back inside," and dashed back into my casita. I hope my neighbor enjoys the wild life photos!

"Who can put, who can't take"

I have a dear friend, a lovely Italian woman who lives in Milan, Italy. We've been talking about her life under the pandemic lock down. This morning she shared this with me.

"A lot of people lose their jobs and can't even eat anymore. At a certain point, from a building in Via Santa Chiara in Naples (southern Italy is much less economically strong than the north) a "panaro" is dropped.  Yes, that woven basket that once served to trade, especially in the alleys.  Its name comes from the Latin panarum and indicates a basket in which to put the bread. It is from this word that the Italian noun "paniere" was born. We are talking about an atavistic Neapolitan tradition, which in the years of disposable, shopping centers and e-commerce has almost completely disappeared. Two guys dropped a panaro out the window with a paper with these words “chi può metta, chi non può prenda” (Who can put, who can’t take), reviving a famous phrase by Giuseppe Moscati, the holy doctor who had dedicated an entire existence to the poor of the Neapolitan historical centre: this phrase was written on Moscati's hat, left at the entrance of his house, where he often studied for the poor without charging them."

Thankfully, my friend and her parents are safe and well. They live apart for safety and only go out for groceries. Two things my friend says she really misses -- going to her hair stylist and going for scooter rides in the countryside.

I was supposed to go to Italy in May/June. Of course, the airline doesn't want to refund my ticket to Milan. My friend wrote this a couple of days ago when I told her.

"Stay aware from here please, the situation is serious and all this won't be over in two, three months... for sure."

Bikini Brunch

The "girls" of the neighborhood organized an impromptu "bring your own brunch" at our complex pool today -- keeping our social distance, of course. It was a bright and sunny 83° morning, so a few of us wore swim suits. Since there were only six girls -- all close friends -- it was easy to circle some chairs to chat and eat. As you might imagine, I was feeling a little naughty. I asked, "No guys are coming to this, right?" No, "just us" was the answer. "Cool," I said and took my bikini top off to get a little sun. My friends know me pretty well -- they laughed. Then four of them took their tops off too! I love where I live.

Be safe and be well.

"Hip Hugger" Short Shorts!

I love these!

Grand Canyon Closed!

Finally, Grand Canyon National Park is closed. It's about time. Tourists were crowding at the view points and trashing the park because the visitor's center, rest rooms and other facilities were closed. It took Trump's toadies in Washington far too long to take this action.

I love the Grand Canyon. And I want all the people who work there to be safe from stupid tourists, some of whom are likely carrying and spreading the corona virus.

I was punished by Facebook a couple of months ago for writing "Americans are stupid," remember? Facebook said that was "hate speech." Well, many Americans are dumber than a bag of hammers. At least now they won't be infecting my canyon friends.

Okay </rant>. I'd rather write about a tiny pair of low rise shorts a colleague at the college gave me today. She's retiring finally at 74 years old and had the shorts in a "memory box" she started in the 60s. Am I a lucky girl or what? More later.