The Night I Walked Naked All Over the City

My name is Valeria and I’m 26 years old. Almost a year ago I started going out alone at night, naked. I don’t remember exactly how it began; I think it was after a summer night when I leaned out into the back patio with nothing on and felt the darkness wrap around me in a way I’d never felt before. Since then, I repeat it whenever I can.

I’m one meter sixty-two tall and weigh around sixty kilos. I consider myself pretty sexy, though what I like most about my body is what others don’t expect to see when they run into me at three in the morning on an empty street. I have medium-sized, firm tits, with big, dark nipples that harden at the first touch of air. I keep my cunt almost entirely shaved, with a short strip above, and my inner lips protrude a little when I spread myself open. Details that matter when you’re walking around in the street in the nude.

This is the story of the night I went the farthest.

***

It was after two when I switched off the last light in my room. The city was already asleep, or at least pretending to be. I’d spent the previous hour mapping out the route in my head: this time I’d go farther, cross the neighborhood of the closed shops, reach the central park if everything went well.

I took my clothes off and put on only a black cotton jacket that reached halfway down my thigh. Nothing else. Not even shoes. Before leaving I ran two fingers through my cunt, almost out of habit, to check whether I was already wet just from thinking about it. I was: my fingers came away shiny, and I licked them slowly while looking at myself in the mirror. I climbed out through my bedroom window into the back patio, carefully pushed the gate open, and stepped into the street.

The cold asphalt under my feet is always the first thing I feel. That hard, cold texture is the signal that the game is starting.

I walked with the jacket open from the start, my shoulders exposed, the night air hardening my nipples almost immediately. At the end of my street I took it off and tied it around my waist. I was completely naked under the black sky, with empty streets opening up in front of me. I could feel the air slipping between my thighs, brushing my cunt lips with every step, and a warm drop beginning to run down the inside of my thigh.

There was nobody around. Just the distant hum of some transformer and the occasional bark of a dog on another block.

***

I turned onto a street I didn’t usually take. It was just as silent as the others, with the houses dark and the parked cars like sleeping lumps. I knew that if I kept going in that direction I’d end up on a busier avenue, but it was still too early for that. First I wanted to walk through this quiet neighborhood, feel like the city was mine for a few hours.

It was going well until, as I passed in front of a metal gate, a dog appeared out of nowhere and started barking its head off. I jumped back and pressed myself against the wall of the building across the street, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d been doing this for months and never been caught, but whenever a dog barked, my body reacted before my head did.

I crouched down, came closer, and offered my hand between the bars. It sniffed, hesitated, and stopped barking.

“Who’s there?” someone shouted from inside.

I flattened myself against the gate, not breathing. The cold metal dug into my tits and the scare squeezed my cunt all at once, in a spasm that almost made me groan out loud.

“The dog again,” a sleepy woman’s voice answered. “He always barks at the air.”

Silence. The house went dark again.

I waited thirty seconds before peeling myself off the wall and walking on. My legs were trembling a little, but not from cold. I slipped one hand between my thighs as I walked and was surprised by how soaked I was: my fingers sank into my cunt with no resistance, and I pulled them out dripping. I ran them over my nipples to feel the cold air multiplied by the wetness.

***

A few blocks later I heard voices. Not one or two: several, mixed with low music and the sound of chairs being dragged. One house had its patio lit up and through the gate I could see a group of men sitting around a table. I counted them: eight. They were drinking, chatting, paying no attention to the street.

I could go by without them seeing me.

But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted there to be a real chance someone would spot me. Eight cocks ten meters away, eight men who could turn their heads at any moment and see a naked woman crawling down their street.

I took the jacket off my waist, threw it to the other side of the gate so I’d have to pass through, and got down on all fours on the ground. I crawled slowly along the gate with my face turned toward them. My ass lifted, my tits hanging toward the asphalt, my cunt open and clearly visible from behind to anyone who bent down. Eight men less than ten meters away, lit by a yellow bulb, none of them looking toward the street.

When I reached the other side and picked the jacket up off the ground, I heard the voices cut off for a second. One of them said something I didn’t catch. Another answered, “Probably some animal.” They laughed and went back to talking.

I stood up and hurried away. My heart was pounding hard in my throat and my cunt was throbbing like it had a life of its own. I would have come right there if I’d had time. A stream of wetness was already running down to my knee.

***

The streets widened as I got closer to the center. I put the jacket on to cross a stretch with more streetlights, but without buttoning it. My legs were left bare and my bare feet on the asphalt were enough of a sign for anyone who cared to look.

When I reached the main avenue, I stopped in the shadow of a tall wall. There were cars. Few, but there were cars. I crossed running and settled on the sidewalk on the other side, beside the wall of an empty lot. I sat down on the ground, took off the jacket, and opened my thighs toward the street. Wide open, obscene, with my cunt gaping straight at the asphalt. I ran two fingers over my lips and spread them apart so everything could be seen, the swollen, shiny clit under the orange light of the streetlamp.

Three cars passed without stopping. They couldn’t see me clearly from that distance, but I could see them. There was something in that imbalance that excited me more than anything else. I started rubbing my clit in slow circles while I watched the headlights go by.

A motorcycle came closer, more slowly. The rider turned his head toward the wall. He accelerated and kept going. When he was already far away, I caught the words: “It was a woman.” Two words. Enough to make my stomach clench with excitement and to let out a moan that bounced off the wall.

***

I stayed leaning against that wall for a while. The asphalt was cold under my ass and the adrenaline made it hard to think clearly. I shoved three fingers into my cunt and pulled them out dripping with slick, while with my other hand I pinched one nipple until it hurt. I watched the headlights of cars passing now and then and imagined one of them braking, getting out, grabbing my hair, and fucking me right there against the wall.

When the avenue stayed silent for a full minute, I stood up and walked to the road. Then one step more. Then another. Until I was in the middle of the street, naked, squatting, with my knees wide open and three fingers going in and out of my cunt at full speed. The splashing could be heard in the empty street. I shoved my thumb into my ass too, tight, up to the knuckle, and let out a long pant beneath the streetlights.

I saw a light in the distance. I got up quickly and went back to the sidewalk, but I didn’t make it in time to put the jacket on. The motorcycle passed less than three meters away. There were two people on it. Both looked straight at me, both saw the shaved cunt and the tits with erect nipples, saw the fingers that were still shining.

One of them whistled. The other said something the night swallowed, something with the word “whore” in it.

My cunt tightened in a lash. I didn’t wait any longer. I put the jacket on and kept walking, my thighs slippery and the smell of sex rising up to my nose.

***

On the street of the closed shops, I ran into an older man pushing a cargo tricycle. He must have been one of those who collect bottles and cardboard before dawn. He saw me from far away and didn’t cross the street. When he passed by me, his eyes dropped to my bare legs and my bare feet on the pavement. He looked at me for a few seconds and kept pushing without saying anything. I could see the bulge outlined in his old pants.

Once I’d left him behind, I lifted the back of the jacket and showed him my ass and the cleft of my asshole. He didn’t turn around to look. It didn’t matter.

***

I found a wide doorway in a closed shop that cast enough shadow from the street. I took off my jacket, leaned back against the cold wall, and spread my legs. I sucked two fingers of my right hand until they were wet with saliva and brought them down to my cunt. I pushed them in hard, all the way, curling them upward to hit that soft spot that makes my jaw clench.

With my other hand I pinched my clit between my index finger and thumb and started rubbing it fast, mercilessly. The splashing of my fingers in my wet cunt echoed in the doorway as if someone were fucking me there with me. My thighs were shaking, my nipples getting harder with every squeeze. I imagined the old man on the tricycle showing up again, leaving the cart in the street and coming to take me against the wall, his wrinkled cock after so many years going into my soaked cunt in one thrust.

With that image in my head, I came. A long spasm, my back arched against the wall, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream. Wetness ran down my arm to my elbow. My legs gave out a little at the end. I stayed there for a moment, leaning, breathing, my ears alert for any noise, my fingers still inside my cunt.

Was that as far as the night went?

No. I could see the end of the street and, around the corner, the central park. I’d known it since I left home: that was the real goal from the start.

***

The park was well lit, which made it harder and more exciting at the same time. I walked through the food-stall area, which by day is full of people and by night is a corridor of stacked tables and tied-down tarps. A few cars passed slowly on the road circling the park.

I leaned against one of the metal poles and let the jacket fall to the ground. I wrapped myself around the pole with my tits pressed against the cold metal and rubbed my cunt against the hard, ridged surface. My clit scraped deliciously and I let out a gasp through clenched teeth.

A car braked a few meters away. Then it kept going.

I picked up the jacket and headed for the stage.

It was a permanent structure in the center of the park: a platform of wood and cement, with steps on the sides and a low roof. They used it for performances during neighborhood festivals. At night it was empty, lit only by a couple of low spotlights aimed at the ground.

I climbed up the back and crawled to the front edge of the platform. I stood up.

From up there, the park opened in every direction. The perimeter streetlights lit the gravel paths and, in the distance, I could see the headlights of cars on the avenue. Nobody was inside the park at that moment, but anyone passing along the edge could see me easily. That was exactly what I wanted.

I lay on my back on the platform floor with my thighs open to the sky. The cold cement against my back. The stillness of dawn above me. I started touching myself slowly, without any urgency, enjoying the open space and the possibility that at any moment someone might pass and see me from below.

I ran my palm over my whole cunt, from top to bottom, feeling the wetness stick to my fingers like glue. I spread my lips with two fingers of one hand and with the other started playing with my clit, first barely brushing it, then pressing it, then giving it little taps with my index finger. My thighs opened on their own, wider and wider, until the skin in my groin was stretched tight.

The fingers went in by themselves. Three, all the way. I arched against them, pulled them out, brought them to my mouth, and sucked my own taste while my other hand pinched my nipple. I lowered them back to my cunt, this time four fingers, my hand forming a wedge, pushing until I felt the bone’s resistance.

I arched again, this time with my mouth open in a silent gasp. I thought about the men in the lit house, about eight hard cocks taking turns fucking me on that very table where they’d been drinking. I thought about the motorcyclist who had seen me in the middle of the street, getting off the bike to shove his cock into my mouth right there. I thought about the old man on the tricycle, who’d looked at my legs without saying anything, laying me out on the cardboard and riding me slowly with that old but hard cock. I thought about being exactly where I was: on top of a stage in the central park of my city, at three-thirty in the morning, completely naked, with my hand buried to the knuckle in my cunt and my ass pressed to the cold cement.

With my other hand I brought a wet finger to my ass and pushed it in at once. The ring tightened around my finger, then gave way. I started moving, hand in my cunt and finger in my ass, in opposite directions, until I felt my walls clenching around everything on their own. A moan slipped out of me out loud. Then another. And another.

I came there. With my thighs open to the sky and my back resting on the cold cement. A long, shaking orgasm, with my cunt flooding the stage floor and my nipples so hard they hurt. I felt the wetness squirting out in little bursts, soaking my ass, forming a small puddle under my cunt.

As I caught my breath, still with my fingers inside, I heard footsteps below.

“Hello?” a man’s voice said from the floor of the stage. “Is someone up there?”

I froze. Then I grabbed the jacket, sat up suddenly, and jumped down the side steps two at a time. I crossed the park running with the jacket in my hand, not stopping to put it on, my tits bouncing and my cunt still dripping between my thighs. Only when I was two streets away did I stop to catch my breath and put it on. The fabric stuck to my soaked cunt immediately.

My legs were burning. I smiled in the dark.

***

The way back was calmer. I knew those streets by heart and at that hour there was nobody left. I took off the jacket several more times, just for the pleasure of walking naked without adrenaline, feeling the air on my skin without any urgency. Every now and then I ran my hand over my cunt, more to confirm that I was still wet than for anything else.

At some point I left the jacket hanging on the railing of a fence beside a vacant lot. I kept going the last stretch with nothing in my hands.

***

I came in through the window. It was four forty.

I got in the shower and stayed a long while under the hot water, cleaning the soles of my feet and the dust from my palms. Under the stream I touched myself again, softer this time, two fingers sliding over my swollen clit until I came one last time, braced against the tiles, my mouth open against my arm to muffle the moan. Then I dried off, lay down on the bed without putting anything on, and fell asleep almost at once, my legs still open and one hand resting on my cunt.

I woke up at eleven. Still naked, the sheet tangled around my legs. Sunlight came through the half-open blind and the street below already had daytime noise.

I went out mid-morning with a canvas bag, stopped by the fence of the vacant lot, and picked up the jacket, a little dusty but intact. I put it in the bag and kept heading downtown. I had errands to run.

I passed along the main avenue. I passed by the wall of the empty lot where I’d sat with my legs open toward the cars. I passed in front of the park.

It was noon. The park was full of people.

Children running along the paths, couples on the benches, street vendors with their carts. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked at the stage from far away. An elderly couple was sitting right on the edge of the platform where I’d been a few hours earlier, with the sun in their faces and their feet dangling, right above the dried stain of wetness I’d left on the cement.

If they only knew.

I kept walking toward the shops, with the jacket in the bag and the night still stuck to my skin, between my thighs, in my nipples that hardened every time I thought about the stage and the man’s voice that almost caught me.