CFNM Village Discussion Forum

As a young/mid teenager I would attend the local college for swimming lessons as it had a pool (I was in high school at this point). The building layout was quite strange, with numerous changing rooms. The changing room I used was quite unique in that it was one of two changing rooms you had to walk through in order to get to the viewing area to watch the pools. Because of this you would be in the process of getting changed after your swimming and all the parents would be walking past to go watch the lessons.

I was probably around 14/15 at this time, and to start with I would very much have the towel wrapped around me, facing the wall, trying to expose myself as little as possible. As time went by, I'd become slightly more adventurous, and eventually I got to the point where I wouldn't bother with the towel, but I'd stay facing the wall.

Well after one lesson I was slightly later than usual getting back to the changing rooms, and I vividly remember being a bit dissapointed that everyone would already be in the viewing gallery and not walking through the changing room. I proceeded to get changed, and because I was fairly confident I wouldn't be disturbed I lowered my usual inhibitions and just got changed normally. At this point I'm stood there completely naked, rummaging through my bag, and I heard the door bang shut. As I looked up there was a blonde woman, probably mid 30s, tall and fairly slim walking through the changing rooms. She was walking pretty fast because she'd been running late. As soon as she saw me stood there she immediately glanced downwards. I wasn't expecting this, so I was in a pretty natural state, but she looked back up and said how she didn't expect to see anyone in here as she was late, and how she hoped she'd still be able to get a seat upstairs. As you can imagine, within the ten seconds it took her to say that I went from 'soft' to 'rock hard'. I said that it was fairly quiet in the viewing section when I came in and that there was plenty of seating left. With this she said she'd best get up there, but she took another good glance down before she left.

I saw her a few times afterwards, but shortly afterwards I ended up having to move to a different pool.

My first cfnm experience was at age 17. I was at my aunt's house. She had an 8-year-old daughter and a 14-year-old son, who was autistic.
The school called asking her to go get her daughter who was feeling sick, with stomach pain. My aunt was bathing her son (actually, he bathed himself).
She said to me, desperate: “Can you look at “Miguel”? (that's not his name) He feels safer if someone is with him while he showers” and ran off to school.
The boy was very calm, washed every part of his body and asked “do you think it's ok, aunt?”. I'm his cousin, but he called me "aunt".
“Aunt, are arms and legs okay?” Yes, Miguel
“aunt, is belly and back good?” yes it's ok
He spent about 30 seconds washing his genitals. “Aunt is the junk good?” I thought it was funny that he used that word: “yes, you washed well Miguel”
He dried off, got dressed, and went to his room.
My aunt came back later, all distressed: “what happened, how are you? miguel behaved well?”
“yes, he's a great boy. Took a nice bath”
My aunt: “did he get hard, did he get an erection?”
“no, he behaved very well”
"Thank God! Don't tell your mom you saw him shower, she would kill me! He's a man already, have you seen how big his balls are?"
I laughed a lot and said: “ok aunt, I'm not going to tell mom...” Sometimes I think my aunt has one less screw in her head....

I grew up with CFNM in some ways. When I was a kid my sister would take me to swimming classes but there were no unisex change rooms at the time so she took me into the lady's room since I was only around 7 or 8 at the time and you could get away with that. I was constantly seen naked by fellow swim classmates and made fun of and I assume that that ingrained itself into my mind as I grew up and is partially responsible for why I love CFNM today. Back then I hated it and it was humiliating... now it's still humiliating sometimes but I love that.

nice story!

In fourth grade primary school, I went home with my friend Max on a hot day, to stay for the weekend, while my parents were away. I had not been to his place before.

I was surprised that when we got to his house, we went in through the back door to the verandah, where Max immediately took off all his clothes and hanged them up on a hook. He was tanned all over, and I could see the red stripes on back and front of his thighs, where our teacher Miss Woods had pulled up his short shorts and thrashed him in class with a wooden ruler for teasing the girls.

He looked at me, and said, "It's all right, Mum expects us boys to be naked at home.", as he idly rubbed his buttocks and still stinging thighs. He seemed perfectly relaxed about being naked, so I reluctantly followed suit.

In the kitchen, we met Max's mother, who greeted me in a friendly way, apparently not at all interested in my naked state. We stood around in the kitchen having red cordial and biscuits. I couldn't resist looking at my friend's smooth brown buttocks, dick and thighs, but Max and his mum didn't seem to be at all interested in looking at me.

It changed when Max's older sister and a friend appeared, dressed her school uniform. Sally immediately said "Hi Brian, you're looking pretty spunky today!", with a giggle. "Brian, this is my friend Jenny - Jenny, you know my bro Max, and Brian is in his class."

Sally and Jenny obviously knew Max, but they were clearly fascinated to see his naked mate enjoying hospitality. "Hmm, doesn't look like you get out into the sun much, Brian." said Jenny with a giggle, eyeing my white midriff, reaching out and stroking my bare buttock.

Max's mum intervened: "OK, everyone, how 'bout a swim before dinner? Girls, go and put on your togs." "Max, I got a phone call from your teacher Miss Woods today, that you had to be thrashed for disobedience. We'll attend to that before dinner." Max seemed rather crestfallen with this, and absently-mindedly stroked his bare thighs.

Max and I headed for the pool, and after a while, Sally and Jenny joined us, dressed in skimpy bikinis. I rather enjoyed the look of their bare brown legs, but Brian was not interested.

We lay around in the sun on the lawn, two naked boys and two bikini-clad girls. Sally and Jenny seemed to think that it was OK to have their hands all over us, stroking our legs, dick and rump. It seemed normal for Brian. Jenny admired the ruler-stripes on Brian's thighs, "stroking and patting them, and said "Looks like someone's been a naughty boy today". Sally replied "Yes, and he'll be properly punished before dinner."

Max's mum called us inside. I still felt self-conscious strutting naked in the presence of Mum and the tow girls, who continued to take a strong interest in my bare rump, and Max's stripes.

"Well Max, said Mum, you know what's next.", as she took down a leather strap hanging in the veranda. Max stood with hands on head, legs straight and feet apart. Mum stood next to Max, taking his left hand in her left hand. "Miss Woods said that she had to administer 20 strokes with the ruler" she said. "So that will be 6 x 20 with the strap. How many is that, Sally?"

"Hmm that must be 120 strokes Mum", said the grinning brat. With the two girls watching, Mum proceed to whip the naked boy around his buttocks and thighs, covering them with red stripes, as he pranced and yelped, still with hands on head. "He knows what will happen if he moves his hands" pronounced the giggling Sally.

The flogging complete, poor naked Max continued the spanking dance, hopping from foot to foot and desperately rubbing his stinging rump. We moved on to dinner, with Max at a standing table facing the corner, so his stripes remained visible to the other diners. I was sitting, still naked, next to Jenny, whose hand was busy stroking my thigh and genitals under the table, but she couldn't take her eyes of the naked, fidgeting boy in the corner.

"Oh, why can't you just behave - stop fidgeting?" snapped Mum, coming up to Max from behind, putting her hands on his two buttocks, and delivering a round of twenty of so stinging slaps to his buttocks and back of his thighs.

Well, we had a pretty interesting weekend, with trips to the river and bushwalking . No-one seemed concerned about the two naked boys, who apparently were not to be clad again before school on Monday. Max's stripes were fading, but still of great interest to onlookers!

I couldn't wait for the two-weeks school holidays, when it was arranged that I would stay at Max's place again ...

~0~

My first ever experience was when I first went to the gym at 20 years old. Not long after joining I was getting changed in the locker room when the female cleaner started cleaning. I was still fully clothed when me and another person was asked if it was okay to start cleaning now. Both didn't care. I get out the shower and cleaning is still being done and I was fully exposed when drying off. It was the first experience but it didn't introduce me to cfnm.

It was a few years later when something similar happened but the 50 year old cleaner this time just did not care and stared. You could tell she was enjoying seeing these 20 something year olds completely exposed and it was a rush to to be stared at like that. Ever since then cfnm has always been an interest.

my first experience was in the changing rooms by the pool, with the cleaning lady. I was waiting for their passage pretending to be surprised, I remember, after many years, how exciting it was to hear the sound of his footsteps ...

my first cfnm experience was at the hospital.. i was feeling dizzy and wasn't allowed to go down my bed to pee at the bathroom.. so they gave me this container to pee on the bed instead.. so i pulled down my pants and started peeing.. and then the nurse came back when i wasn't done, so she saw my dick... kinda embarrassed but could see the smirk on her face.

I am sure mine is tame compared to most. I was at a resort in Jamica with my then gf, now wife. Some guy was taking pics of his attractive (assume) gf in bikinis on the beach. She was definitely gifted.
Later that day, on a small island thatvwas part of the resort, we discovered a clothing optional beach. After working up to it, I took my suit off for the first time in the water, and my gf her top. Finally got up the courage to go back up to the beach - it was mostly nude older people at this point.
The next day we went back to that beach in the morning to soend the day. Then, the photo shoot girl and her bf showd up later that day. She kept her suit on, and I greatly enjoyed her company through the day.

It was probably when I was pantsed in front of girls during gym class. Needless to say it was embarrassing and I'm sort of a grower and not a shower so the girls were probably a little disappointed.

First CFNM experience was when I was 14. I went to cabin in the woods with my best friend's family, like I did every summer. One day, when he was off with his grandpa, and I was bored, I spent the day following his older sister around, who I was crazy about, and telling we should go skinny dipping. Finally, just around dark, she said yes.

She told me to go down to the lake and that she'd join me. So I went down, and started swimming.

She showed up a few minutes later...and then left with my clothes.

I think my plan was to wait in the water until everyone went to sleep. Or I died of embarrassment, whichever came first. Unfortunately, his sister must have gone back and told her mother, because Mrs. S soon showed up. With a flashlight, but not my clothes. Got marched back to the cabin in the nude, getting lectured the whole time and she kept shining the @#$%! flashlight on me to make her point (like I didn't know I didn't have clothes on!). Then when we got back to the cabin, she wouldn't even let me run to my room and hide, but made me stand there in the lighted family room with my hands trying to cover all of me while she finished telling me how disappointed she was in me. Only thing that saved the day at all was she had told my friends sister's to go into their room before I walked into the cabin, so only she saw me, but of course she told them why which was almost as bad (almost). Got a hard slap on my butt when I finally got to go.

Twenty years later, I still blushed when I saw that woman.

Just registered. Happy to have found this place.

I just wrote up this memory to share here. I have a few more, all just as vivid as this one. All of which made a profound impact on me when I went through puberty. I've thought about these memories nearly every month of my life since way back when.

I'd actually prefer sharing this kind of thing with (an actual) woman one-on-one, like via email. I don't know how messaging works here yet, but if you'd like to have a fun penpal and maybe even do some role-play, pls let me know. I can also be reached at evansonnen at the google email.

Ok, here goes...

In 4th grade I got a big part the area high school’s production of “Peter Pan.” They wanted to include kids from the surrounding elementary and middle school. My friend and I had been in the class talent show, so when the auditions were announced we decided to try out. They offered me the role of the lead pirate (after Captain Hook). While my friend wasn’t offered a part at all. I was the most shocked of anyone that they picked me.

We rehearsed at the high school’s big theater and it was really cool. A few times I even got to skip some of school because of it.

As it got closer to our first real performance, a 9th or 10th grader (who was also in the play) came up to me during a rehearsal and told me her name was Beth and that she was also in charge of wardrobe. She handed me a pass from the head of the theater dept with permission to come during the next school day to get fitted for my costume. I was told to be dropped off before lunch and where to go, etc. Cool, I thought. I got to miss more school! High schoolers ate lunch earlier so I’d be missing actual school, not lunch.

The next day my mom picked me up/dropped me off and I made my way into the theater (which was totally empty), went backstage and down to the dressing rooms. I had never been down there and it was really cool. Very much like I guessed a real theater would be. I waited and waited and then Beth showed up in a rush. She was complaining because somehow I was missed and I was the last one who still needed a costume.

She led me into the dressing room and I said, “Isn’t this the girls changing room?” She brushed it off with, “No one’s around,” and “This will be quick.”

In the empty dressing room and she started hunting through a few duffle bags and retrieved the pirate costume consisting of brown tights and blue top that was also the same kind of material. She kind of threw clothes near my feet and told me to try them on while she was still looking for things. I didn’t understand. She meant right there? In front of her? And she was confused back and was like, yes, so she can see if it fits. I hesitated. Couldn’t I could go to the boys’ side to put it on? She got very impatient and said all the other boys tried their costumes on in front of her, it’s her job. I asked if Kurt, the high school guy playing Captain Hook did that and she made a face like “of course.”

So I started to take off my clothes. First my t-shirt. Putting the costume top and then I turned around to start undoing my pants and she asked what I was doing? I said I was putting the pants on. She said about turning around. That Kurt didn’t do that. Well, if Kurt didn’t do that…so I turned about and continued. I took off my jeans and I stood there in my tightie whities and the snug pirate outfit top trying to look natural. Then I started to try on the bottom of the costume. I tugged and yanked and finally got them on and Beth took a look. “Well, that won’t work,” she said. I looked in the mirror (all the walls were mirrored) and I could see what she meant. You could see my white underwear through the tights. She told me to try them without the underwear. I stood there thinking, “Wait, what?” At which point she hooked her fingers around both the bottoms and my undies, whipped them both down together and told me to step out of them. It happened so fast. Now I was naked from the waist down and Beth’s face was right at the level of my privates and I was mortified. “Step out of them,” she demanded. And I tried to balance as she helped to wrestle them off. All while I’m twisting and bouncing around trying to help get them off and not fall over. My barley-there package on full display wiggling and jiggling about. After she/we got the pants off, I tried to pull down the top to cover myself up but it was too short, so I covered myself with my hands. As she’s trying to untangle my underwear from the tights she said, “I can still see your butt you know,” motioning to the mirror behind me. In a tone I had heard from women before she let me know she had seen it all before, but if I wanted to be ridiculous to go ahead. That none of the other guys did that. As she continued to separate the leggings from my underwear I slowly and nonchantantly as I could moved my hands away from crotch and stood there in front of her, naked from the waist down. My hairless, tiny penis jutting out, as it wasn’t even long enough to hang down.

Now she wanted me to try on just the tights without any underwear. The result was not an improvement. Just then another girl about Beth’s age came into the dressing room. I was told this was her sometimes assistant, Jessica. She asked Jessica what she thought. Jessica took a long look at me. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. The tip of my penis was clearly visible though the thin material. Then Jessica walked right up to me and squeezed my penis and made a “boop” sound. Beth let out a loud laugh. What just happened? Did a girl just touch my penis? Then Jessica announced that while this was fun she had to go to French Club or something, grabbed her things and proceeded to leave. “Fine, go,” Beth said, frustrated to have no help.

Then it was back to Beth, me and my indecent costume. She shook her head and told me take the tights off. I did as she asked now having more practice as dancing around trying to get them off. I handed her the pants and just sort of milled about bottomless. By then I had gotten more comfortable with the situation. She stared blankly at me, lost in thought.

“Ok, I’ve got an idea,” she said. She told me to stay put. That she was going to ask such and such teacher if there was a way to dye my underwear dark. She packed up all the clothing around into the duffle bag and told me to wait there, that she’ll be right back. And she dashed away. I was left there realizing she had not only taken the tights and my underwear but my t-shirt and my pants! I was in this dressing room alone with only the tight-fitting blue pirate top on. I sat my naked butt down on a bench. Then spotted my bookbag and grabbed it, putting it on my lap…in case any girls came in.

The blood pretty much left my face when I heard the running and the giggling of a bunch of girls in the outside hallway. Please don’t come in here, I thought. Then they burst through the entrance, barely noticing me. They were high school girls talking a mile a minute about I don’t know what. “There’s a little boy there,” one said. Another one said Beth was probably doing a fitting for the play. I don’t think they realized I didn’t have pants on. I just sat there, I think I waved. The girls were brushing their hair and checking themselves out in the mirror. “Does he have any pants on?” wondered one of them. “I don’t think so,” replied another. And as quickly as they came in, they left.

Not more than a minute later Beth returned. “Ok, we aren’t going to dye your underwear. Try these on.” She grabbed a garment from the duffle bag and threw it in my direction. I looked at it. They appeared to be like thick, black…girls underwear. “Put them on, let’s go.” I put the black are-these-panties on and then grabbed the brown tights from off the floor. I modelled for Beth. “Turn around,” she told me. “Great. That works. Perfect. Ok, you can take everything off and get dressed.” She approached me to help. “Here,” she grabbed at the top and pulled it off as she explained where all the costumes were kept, when to take it home to get it washed, and that I’m responsible for it. Then, taking me by surprise again like before, she pulled down the tights and undies together. Then, like before, we fought to get the clothing off my ankles and feet, with again me doing a twisty-stretchy dance completely naked in front of this teenage girl. I know she was watching me and totally checking out my private parts, but she never let on that she was getting a kick out of having me in this position. I grabbed my clothes from the floor started to feel naked again. I got shy about Beth seeing me nude again. Trying to be modest, I turned around and quickly got dressed.

It dawned on me that this was the first time a non-babysitter girl had ever seen me naked. And that had been years ago. As I bent over to put on my underwear, she made that “I see you nude” whistle, like “sex-y.” I instantly blushed. She kept staring at me from behind as I worked to untangle my jeans. I was starting to get a boner in my undies, and I think Beth noticed.

All dressed and done, we walked up and out of backstage together. Then she had to go put the wardrobe bags away and I was late for my mom who was picking me up. During the rest of my time on the play, whenever I would see Beth or Jessica, my face would instantly get warm. Beth especially would get this amused look on her face. Sometimes she would make eye contact with Jessica, or whisper something to a friend. We never really talked again. But, yeah, for the rest of the time doing the play, whenever she saw me I totally got the feeling she was imagining me naked.

###

Great story! Thanks for sharing it.



You can get to the messaging function by clicking the link immediately to the right of the Logout link, where it indicates # new messages.

@Todd Thank you!

Seems I don't have access to messages yet. It says, "We are sorry, but you are not authorised to use this feature. You may have just registered here and may need to participate more to be able to use this feature."

Hope I have time to post & reply some more. I'm in grad school so it could take a while.

All the more reason for a woman to write me an email! ☺️

Not necessarily my own first experience as it was second hand, but is my first true explicit exposure to CFNM as a 'thing' outside of casual childhood experiences. I hope it’s still alright to post here, but let me know if not.

When I was in my final year of high school (so 17-18 or so), I worked in a local leisure centre. This is like a sports centre with a swimming pool, gym, squash courts, etc. Many of the staff were of my age.

There was a pretty strict policy of not entering the changing rooms of the opposite gender unless necessary for safety. The rota was worked out so there would always be at least one member of each gender working each shift. If, for whatever reason, there was a staff shortage and you did need to go into the opposite changing room for something like cleaning, you were supposed to follow this big procedure to minimise any issues. I can’t remember it exactly what this was since it was pretty rare, but it was along the lines of turning off the music in the changing room, and shouting through the door that the changing room is to be cleaned by a male / female attendant shortly and that they should leave. We also had to rope off the entrance to stop anyone new from going in.

I was under the impression that this procedure was followed fairly well, with it was more being to do with the often high-school-aged staff’s protection more than the customers. This was until my leaving party when one of the female staff members (we’ll call her Ana), fairly drunk, openly boasted about how the girls would often walk into the men’s changing rooms to ‘clean’, even when I or another male member of staff was on the rota.

More than that though, this wasn’t a random thing, it was legitimately all coordinated via an exclusive WhatsApp group for select female staff. The receptionist on duty would see a guy either they liked or a guy they knew one of the other girls liked / knew. They would then message the group and someone else would cover their duties while the she went to the men's changing rooms to give it a ‘clean’.

Ana was in my year, but went to a different school. She was a slender Lithuanian girl who always, by her own admission, wore her uniform polo shirt and shorts a size too small to emphasise her quite nice breasts and very long legs. She and had these very distinctly graceful movements that I still remember to this day from when her parents forced her to take classical dance classes. I don't quite know how to describe it, she just carried herself very, very gracefully. Ana generally wore her exceptionally long brunette hair in a loose ponytail, all the while having one of those constant smiles on her face. Whether pony tail or not, she frankly made me diamonds.

At the party, Ana recalled so, so excitedly about how thrilled she was when she received a message from the receptionist on duty for the group that, not only was one of the guys from her class here to swim, but he was the only swimming entry for the past half hour, so the changing room would be empty except for him. While the school didn’t have a swim team, it was a guy who was very athletic, was very tall, and was considered by most of the girls to be very attractive.

Now the experience that she told me is naturally all second hand. I don’t know how much of it is really true. I can’t imagine why she’d lie though and it was all told in a fairly convincing way.

She recalled in great detail about how instead of going into the locker room straight after he’d arrived, she waited for him to finish swimming so he could be guaranteed he’d be showering at the time and, in her words, totally defenceless. She laughed about how she tried to come up with important looking tasks (like reviewing the viewing section) in the swimming pool area so she could keep an eye on him while he swam to make sure she caught him leaving. Eventually, he did finish up and left for the changing room. She followed.

She waited for him to enter and, as per policy, locked it off. Instead of waiting for 15 minutes though, gave it a good solid 2 minutes. Knock and announce her presence? Not a chance. She put her head up, took a deep breath, and strutted in with her cleaning trolley.

The shower room was in a separate area deeper into the changing room, but as she entered, she could hear the shower on. There was nobody else in the changing room, just as promised by the receptionist. Heart racing, she left the cleaning trolley and carefully walked over the entrance separating the changing room from the shower area. She peered round the corner and there she saw her classmate, totally naked, washing his hair in the shower, facing her with his cold-shrunken flaccid penis peeking out from under the soap suds.

Apparently, his eyes were closed and he didn’t even notice her standing there, giving her a nice few second to enjoy the view. In her words, of course said penis wasn't going to adjust to her being there when he didn't know she was there, but she was just mesmerised about how carefree his cock was as it just swung gently back and forth as he washed his hair, like it wasn't being intensely examined by one of his female classmates.

At this point, she took another deep breath and said, loudly, mop in one hand, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I knocked and nobody responded and I needed to clean otherwise my manager would get angr- Michael, is that you Michael? Oh my God.” (I can’t remember what his name was, I'm not even sure it was mentioned, so I’m going with Michael).

Michael, with shampoo still in his eyes, just hearing the young female voice calling his name turned his back to her and frantically tried to rinse his eyes out, before slowly turning his head with both hands covering his cock. She found this bit really funny, with him rapidly trying to blink the shampoo out of his eyes while trying to work out who was there. She spared him the effort.

“It’s me, Ana, from school”. She claimed to me that she desperately wanted to say this very nonchalantly, in a cool and collected manner. Unfortunately, it came out very, very excited - like a hahaha it’s MEEE, ANAAAAA, from your school, here watching yooooou. Naked.

He was just bewildered at this stage, totally confused and unsure what to do. Like this was not just a girl in the men's changing room, staring at him, but a classmate? How do you respond to that? The shower room was open so most, like him, just kept their towel with their stuff. It sure as hell wasn’t in reach at that moment. He managed to stutter out a question asking what she was doing here and, surprising to her, if he was in the wrong changing room. She responded, much cooler and more collected and, frankly, taken aback a bit by the question making her sound like the injured party and him the one at fault, “No, no, you’re in the right room…”

There was a pause.

She then snapped back to her breathless pre-rehearsed script “Sorry I just work here and needed to clean the men’s changing room because there wasn’t any male staff working today [this was a lie] and I knocked [this was a lie] and waited for a good while [this was a lie] but you didn’t respond [this is admittedly true] but I guess that’s because you were in the shower sorry again are you okay if I finish off quickly like I won’t be long [this was a lie, she would take her time] land won’t look or anything [this was definitely a lie] but-”

He interrupted her and waved her off saying something like “yeah yeah it’s fine sorry yeah it’s fin-”.

She then interrupted him herself “I’ll start with the locker room like you can finish off here, I’ll give you your privacy”. He sputtered an agreement. She apparently loved that little “I’ll give you your privacy” line, like a little jab reminder of his situation and the sheer power imbalance right now. She could grant him his privacy, and she could not - it was up to her. I can still remember the way she said that to me as well. Her accent was normally pretty native, but when she got excited you could hear little foreign intonations - this was one such occasion.

Now, I thought that the story was more or less done by now. Ana sees Michael naked – great. I was already pretty taken aback by how bold this all was – like we got along fairly well, but we were still just work colleagues, and here she was openly admitting her scheme to abuse her position, and all her female colleagues to abusing their position, all just to see boys naked. As is probably the classic line on this forum, if the situations were reversed it absolutely would not have been considered acceptable, but here she was laughing about it to me. In any case though, there was more. She gleefully look straight in my eyes, her perpetual smile morphed into a wide, mischievous grin. She leant in close and whispered “the best is yet to come” before recoiling back nodding excitedly as I expressed my surprise.

See, she left Michael confused in the shower and went back into the locker room area. That’s when she spotted his stuff sitting on the bench. As mentioned before, the open shower meant most would leave their stuff in the main locker room while they showered. She paused, thinking for a second, thinking whether she would actually push her luck to this extent. “Fuck it”, she thought, and grabbed it all together, stood on top of the bench, and placed it on top of the very tall lockers before climbing back down and getting on with cleaning the already very clean locker room. Very, very slowly, of course. This action itself wasn't all that uncommon, it wasn't unusual for us to pop stuff left behind on top of the lockers while we cleaned before grabbing it on the way out for the lost property box.

After about 15 minutes or so, the shower turned off. She thinks Michael was waiting for her to leave or mention that she needed to clean the shower room so they could swap, but it became apparent she would be there for a while and he decided to brave it.

He strutted out quickly, with his head down and one hand covering his cock, straight to where his stuff used to be. Emphasis, of course, on the 'used to be'. It was missing. She peeked out of the side of her eye while she mopped the floor as he frantically looked around for it. He started looking through some of the open lockers, thinking he just forgot his number and that his towel and clothes would just be waiting there for him. At this stage, Ana, still mopping and looks up at him, leaning on the mop.

“Sorry I had to clean the bench, if that was your stuff it’s just on top of the locker, don’t worry”.

He didn’t say anything but just turned himself away from her again and muttered a sigh of acknowledgement. She went back to mopping with her and, in her words again, absolutely loving just how easily she could make him feel so helpless one a mere flick of her eyes. She repeated her accented line from before to me "I could grant it him his privacy, and I could take it away". This time she decided to grant it and turned her back to him. After a few moments, his voice rung out.

“Uhhh how do I reach on top of the locker...?”

She turned round to him facing her, his hand still firmly placed over what was left of his dignity. She smiled, inside, but kept a straight face (although as she turned to face him, apparently couldn't help but take a quick almost unconscious glance check him out in his current state).

“Sorry, you have to stand on top of the bench”. She gestured with her hand, “I can grab it if you like?”

He declined immediately, but in her words, must’ve soon regretted that decision. He climbed on top of the bench but, even standing on top of the bench, it was still quite a reach. She had placed the stuff quite deep in and the bench was quite far from the locker. I'd done it myself when cleaning the changing rooms, mistakenly putting stuff too deep on top of the locker. You essentially had to lean across, supporting yourself with one hand on the locker, while grabbing what was on top with the other.

While he was working this out, she’d stopped mopping and walked over to cleaning trolley and ruffled about, all to get a good view of the forthcoming of course.

She started trying to make small talk.

“How are you for English Lit? All ready for the exam? I’m really struggling to learn the sonnets.”

At this stage, telling the story to me in the present day, she completely burst out laughing. She was in absolute stitches. This was, to her, the punchline of the story. Here she was, with one of the most attractive guys in her class standing precariously on stop of a bench, totally naked, on hand covering is penis, desperately trying to work out how to get his clothes without his female classmate ogling at his cock, all the while said classmate trying to discuss John fucking Donne and his metaphysical poetry. Other work staff had started to listen in at this stage and were giggling themselves, the girls clearly aware of the story. When they eventually calmed down, she continued.

He muttered out some polite meaningless words, “yeah those sonnets are really difficult”, or something to that effect, while he bobbed his head up and down like a chicken, trying to judge the distance, occasionally glancing across at her to check if there was any opening, one hand still thoroughly on his penis.

At this stage she deliberately squatted down to get something on the bottom level of the trolley, hoping to encourage him to bridge the gap when she wasn’t looking. He took the bait. She heard a grunting sound and immediately stood up, looking across at him stretched across the gap, one hand on the locker, one hand desperately reaching for his stuff, and all the while his cock and (she emphasised to me, strongly) balls wiggling helplessly back and forth with the motions.

She stared and smiled and stared some more, not even pretending to look for something in the trolley. Apparently at this stage her phone, which was sitting there on the tray, buzzed with a message and she just couldn’t help but wish and wish that she could grab it and take a video of what was going on to show to her girlfriends. Here was Michael, completely naked, a few feet in front of her, stretched full length with his feet on a bench and a hand on a locker, with his cock and balls dangling back and forth while he tried to retrieve his clothes which she, herself, had stashed away from him, all while she quizzed him about English Literature.

He looked across at her after hearing the phone buzz. He noticed her stare fixed on his penis and her, by this stage, her massive grin. His hand apparently recoiled for a second, instinctively going to cover himself before realising that it was much better to try to get his stuff as soon as possible.

With both hands she then leant on the trolley, arched herself forward with eyes still locked on the obvious, and she stated in a very matter of fact voice: “Yeah, I think I have Death Be Not Proud, but the others are a blur”.

He muttered out a breathless "Yeah" as she watched his struggle. Eventually, after what was probably only a few seconds but what felt like minutes, he dragged his bag his hand and jumped down, immediately turning his back to her as he frantically shuffled through the bag for his towel. He ripped it out and wrapped it round his waist.

“Yeah, Yeats is a pain too”, he eventually responded in a breathless voice trying desperately to act cool and disguise what had just happened.

At this stage he got dressed under his towel while she pretended to clean the rest of the locker room. They made some more small talk and she eventually left the changing room.

She never recounted how he or she reacted next time they met in class, but I’d imagine it would’ve been interesting.

At this stage a few other work staff piped in with stories of their experiences wandering into the male locker rooms, but none were quite as eventual. Just stuff like walking in and watching every guy one by one realise a young woman was watching them and enjoying their own unique reactions. Happy to recount them as best as I can if there’s any interest, but they’re not as (at least in my view) exceptional as the above.

@Seibytas
Magnificent first post.
DTR

@DaveTheRave
Thank you! I made this account a good while ago. Always intended to write up her story, glad I finally got round to it.

Honestly, it still surprises a bit how bold it all was - not only in the actions at the time, but how openly she was telling me about it. Maybe I'm just new to the whole CFNM thing, but if it had happened in the 70s or 80s it'd be one thing, but this was like 2015 or so.

In any case, hopefully you can all now enjoy it as much as I have over the years

My first experience with CFNM.
I was about 12 at the time. My father was a military worker. I spent my summer holidays at a camp organized by the military. The colonies were organized in one-story buildings of military barracks. There were rooms in the long buildings, 10 boys each. There were several groups of boys and girls of different ages in the colonies. The tutors are mainly young women aged 20-30, mostly students. Our guardian was a young woman, a 21-year-old student of pedagogy, very pretty.
There were no showers in apartment buildings. They were in a separate building. Whole groups had a bath twice a week on average. There was a table in the corridor where guardians waited while the groups took a shower. Then you walked into the locker room where everyone was undressing. There was an entrance to the shower from the changing room. The showers are mounted on one wall with small partitions between them. Our tutor did not go into the bathroom while we were showering.
That day, while I was taking a shower, she unexpectedly appeared in my room. She came up to me and told me to go with her. I wanted to wrap myself in a towel, but she told me to leave it because I'll be back soon. You had to listen to the tutors, for me she was an adult. So I followed her. We went through the locker room and into the corridor, where the tutor of the second group of boys was sitting at the table. It was an equally pretty woman of about 30 years of age. Behind her were two girls, one a little younger than me, the other maybe two years older. I stood completely naked in front of them and didn't know what to do. I didn't even cover my secret parts with my hands. My guide talked to the guide of the other group for a while, she was watching me all the time and nodding her head. Of course, both girls were also watching me with obvious interest. I stood still and was terribly ashamed. I haven't seen these girls in the colony before. After a few minutes, the teacher told me to go back to the shower and finish my bath. I did it and didn't think about it anymore.
I remembered this incident when, many years later, I came across stories about CFNM on the Internet. I think that two girls were sisters of our tutor and she led me to them to see what a naked boy looks like. The girls looked at me closely, paying particular attention to my penis and testicles. Fortunately, I did not see them later in the colony. I don't know how I would feel if I met them.

This is not my first CFNM experience. It was a first of its kind, though as I had never done it for a stranger before. This is a true story and it's the first time I've tried to write it down.


The Stranger.


I am an old man now and have the luxury of looking back and having fun with the memories. One of the groups of these memories is my career in what would later become known as CFNM. This would have to wait until the digital age when the platform and the means were ready for it, but it began long before that in what could be called the age of revolution. This was when the counterculture was going on against the status quo that had brought us the Vietnam War, the environmental and anti-nuclear movements were taking on the establishment’s non-action on pollution and the capitalism involved in the nuclear industry, and then Gloria Steinem and the women’s revolution were protesting how that society had condemned women into the role of being what amounted to a second class citizen, under dominance by males.

For me it was a matter of being in the right place at the right time with the right character to match it. The magazine, Playgirl, had come out in the early seventies. That had as much to do with women’s liberation as the protest signs. Playgirl equalized the sexism enjoyed by its sibling, Playboy, where being in a centerfold was considered a woman’s thing and, now, here were guys doing the same thing. This horrified and shocked the male establishment that considered women as inferior and, when I see CFNM today, I sometimes think back to those tempestuous days. I can remember going into the apartments or the dormitory rooms of female friends and seeing their walls wallpapered with Playgirl Centerfolds. I replied to one friend who asked me if I felt nervous or threatened by all the pictures of naked men around me. I replied that at least I knew she enjoyed guys.

My first experience with this thing that would have a name in a realm undreamed of them called CFNM was in 1975. I was twenty years old then. Several years later, I joined those guys on the wall in photographs, though only metaphorically as I was never a centerfold. One photographer wanted to send me into Playgirl’s “Guys Next Door” section, where women sent in pictures of their naked lovers to publish for all readers to see them. It was never empty. For months after that, I kept thumbing through to see if my picture was in there, but I never saw it. She may have sent it into another magazine, one that was a little more hardcore than Playgirl, as our pictures were not as tame as those in Playgirl.

In any case, I have had many delicious experiences before a woman’s camera. Not just a camera either, but camcorders as well. I am dating myself because these are largely obsolete in the digital age where it is mostly smartphones. One of the most fun was a time when I did it for an absolute stranger. We had never met before then; we did not talk to each other, and we never saw each other again afterward, but I still wonder now if my picture ever ended up on one of her walls. I like to think that it did, but there’s no way of ever finding out.

It happened right around the dawn of the cell phone and digital age. Smartphones were just in their infancy, but they had cameras in them. Without this device, it never would have happened at all. The reason being was that we were at a nude beach. Cameras are frowned upon at these places for obvious reasons. It is one of those unwritten laws. I had not gone there to be photographed, but to relax after a bicycle ride and I had only gone because it was near where I had parked the car. I just wanted to dive in, lay down, and relax for a little while.

Beach is not the right word. It had no sand. It was a swimming hole, concealed from the main road by a fence. A river ran through a small gorge and had made a series of swimming pools on different levels, with plenty of smooth rocks for sitting areas. I don’t generally frequent these places. The males usually outnumber the females and of the males a certain number of them are bi or gay. I’ve been obliged to fend them off a few times. With my CFNM training, I’ve often wondered why a woman just didn’t come in to a place like that and sweep it with her camera.

In any case, I found a nice spot to lay down on by a pool. The swimming hole was not particularly crowded that day. From what I could tell no one was near me, though I knew a gang of folks was nearby. Of the guests there, as usual, the guys were naked and most of the women were not. I had staked out a homestead on a ledge that happened to be underneath one of the entrances into the swimming hole. It was on a rock with a sort of natural staircase leading down the side of it. I had descended it to find my spot there. I improvised a certain degree of comfort from my bicycle helmet and backpack and, after that dip to cool off, I laid down for a while.

I must have gone into sleep. I had this feeling that someone was looking at me. When I opened my eyes there was this lady on top of the stairway look straight down at me. She was not being shy about it either, like looking out of the corner of her eye. She wore shorts and a tea shirt and had long brown hair, straight, flown over her shoulders. She had them zeroed in on me. I had my bicycle sunglasses on so she could not see my eye and that, naked, I was looking straight up at her as if I was waiting for her to aim a camera at me. I had been in that position many a time, with the dressed lady standing over me aiming the camera down at my nakedness, as I positioned it for her to get the best shot we could wring out of that moment. I thought of how Mona, a girlfriend, like to do this as she shot me from several angles. She liked to pose us in front of mirrors so it would reflect the image of her with the camera enjoying my nude self for her pleasure. It was as if to say, “this is how it should be.”

I figured to myself, why not have some fun. I was no stranger to posing, so why not do it for this lady. Yet, I had to do it while feigning sleep, and that would not be easy. I started to do subtle things, like spreading my legs a little wider across the rocks, so she could see between the legs. I knew how women enjoyed that view from having a camera aimed in those regions so many times. I remembered how Brenda liked to right between the legs and shoot me head on that way with nothing left to the imagination. I stayed that way for a minute and watched her through my sunglasses move ever so slightly down the stairs to get the vantage point for that view without looking obvious about it.

Then I saw her violate that unwritten law of these places. Out of a pocket in her shorts came a cell phone. I never did figure out what kind it was, but I was almost delirious myself about it. I saw her aim at that vantage and fire a shot and then reposition the camera. She must have been taking a huge risk. I do not know if anyone else was within visual range. The family near me had left. It was just us two. I was naked and she was dressed — the way it should be. I thought of the camcorder modeling I had done for Jean, and slowly slipped my hands down there. I put them near the apparatus and arched my back a little so she could see it more in prominence. It was difficult to restrain myself, to make it seem like it was unconscious. She was zooming with the cell phone, snapping away. I watched her eyes. They had the same expressions as the women who had filmed or photographed me — aggressive about taking my sexuality, as if they owned it, which I loved. This lady aimed and fired as I put a finger on it, trying to look like it was something done in sleep.

I decided to change views for her. I first rolled onto my side, facing the rock. I reached a hand down to make it look like I was adjusting it and I heard many snaps, even above the noise of the water. I rolled onto the torso to give her a backside view. I remembered Brenda and Mona, aiming at the backside and telling me to bend over so that the sensitive parts would drop down and they could preserve that view on film. I tried to duplicate it on that rock as much as I was able and imagined this unknown woman moving in for the close-up. I wanted her to come down the stairs and come in at me from that rock, but I by the reflection in the pool by the rock, that she was still on the stairs.

After a time in this position, I rolled over again to give her a full frontal. She was still there. I watched her through my sunglasses take full advantage of this position. She had the cell phone right on the target. Again, I reached a hand down as if to relieve an itch in the vicinity and positioned it right on the shaft. I saw her eyes behind the cell phone. I was in that place between being tame and at parade rest to where it was all the way up the mast. I was trying to keep it quiet so that she would still think I didn’t know she was breaking that code of honor at these places.

I wondered if I should do it. Should I go all the way? Strong in my memory was Susan asking me if I would show her what it looked like as she watched me from above the bed with the camcorder in her hand. She had never seen it before for real. She was clad in jeans and a sweatshirt as I took it off and lay on the bed for her. How could I make it seem like it was the thoughts in my supposed sleep making me do it? Was anyone else too near? I tried to turn my head to see, but could not tell if anyone was behind me. I thought back to the camcorder and Jean aiming right on that zone as the volcano erupted forth and splashed on top of me. The camera lights and the zoom finder were hovering right over it as I quivered and shook and then let go with a blast that landed right on top of me. I thought of the many other instances where I had pleased her camcorder that way. Jean was always dressed and I was always naked, as it should be. Should I give that to this female stranger with the cell phone in her hand aiming the phone in the camera down at me from the top of that stairway? It was so awfully tempting. I knew a way that I could do it without it seeming like it was deliberate.

I did it. My CFNM training couldn’t resist it. I pointed it straight at her lens, did that little trick, and the volcano blew off and fell to earth right on top of me as I had more or less aimed it. I saw her eyes go wide behind the lens as she relentless pressed the camera’s button to capture the after affects of this explosion that was now glistening on me in the sun and shade. I thought she was going to come down the ladder and make like she wanted to wake me up.

Suddenly, I heard a voice calling someone. She called back that she “had found it and was talking to someone.” She quickly shoved the phone back in her pocket. She blew me a kiss and disappeared over the horizon of the rock. The whole interlude probably lasted about ten of fifteen minutes. I have never seen her since then. I do wonder how many times she has seen me.