Chapter 1: Introduction
Scott looked out his back window. There was nobody in the garden next door. If he was quick his little dare for himself could be accomplished. He had dared himself to run to the bottom of his garden and back..... naked. He stepped out into his back garden but to his horror no sooner had he got outside
, he heard the sound of voices next door.
"Mrs. Thompson, this hydrangea is just not cooperating."
They were voices he recognized instantly, his old high school teacher, the infamous Mrs. Thompson, and her best friend, Jane. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized what they were likely to see if he dashed back inside. He was standing stark naked, not a stitch on, with only his tiny cock and hairy balls on display. He froze, terrified of what they might think if they caught a glimpse of him.
Mrs. Thompson's voice carried over the fence, stern and commanding as ever.
"Well, Jane, you know what they say about stubborn plants. Sometimes you just have to show them who's boss."
Scott's heart pounded in his chest. He was still frozen in place, stark naked and very much exposed. The last thing he needed was to be caught in this compromising position by his former teacher. He glanced around frantically, hoping for a hiding spot, but his garden was as bare as he was.
Jane's laughter filtered through the air, a warm, cackling sound that belied her age. "You're right, dear. But I think I'll leave that to you.
I'm more of a flowers and shrubs kind of woman," Jane replied, her voice drifting over towards Scott's side of the fence.
Scott's eyes darted around, desperately searching for some kind of cover. He spotted a small, weathered shed at the back of his garden. It was old and probably full of spiders, but it was his only hope. He quickly darted towards it, his bare feet padding silently across the grass. He could hear the women talking, their voices getting louder as they moved closer to the fence.
"Oh, I quite agree, Jane. Flowers are much more my style too.
How is that hydrangea coming along, by the way?" Mrs. Thompson's voice was so cool and collected, it was almost as if she didn't have a care in the world. Scott, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves, barely containing his panic.
Scott made it to the shed just as Mrs. Thompson rounded the corner of her house, giving him a clear view of her. She was every bit as commanding as she had been in his high school days, with her long, dyed blonde hair and her fantastic figure, accentuated by her garden clothes. Even from a distance, Scott could see the glint of her glasses in the sunlight.